The Day of Choice. (Shadow; Cika)

The room was quiet, and the wind was blowing violently outside. It curved the naked branches of the trees, bending them all to one side like grass on a meadow. It whistled acutely through the leaves, before plunging towards the ground and slapping people's faces with faint drizzle.
In the room, a boy with dark blond hair rested. A computer, having been placed in a corner of the room gently started to whir. The fans gasped, and the machine bleeped quietly as it turned on. It loaded the system, before suddenly turning black. One would've thought that there was a hardware problem, that it had crashed. Yet the fans were still gently purring. This immense, deep darkness in which the screen was swallowed into, was nothing other than a mere normal function. 'Normal', that is, for the computer itself.
A monochrome picture digitalized itself onto the screen, shaping a computer-made face. The eyes were side, black orbits which stared straight forwards. The background behind the figure slowly changed hues of gray with time, and in a random order of light to dark. But the face didn't look like anything human. At least, didn't look like anything on the outside of a human. It was a skull, with highly defined sides. The fangs seemed to be overgrown in the jaw, which, itself, looked exaggeratively stretched, making it have a much more intimidating look. The fans growled now. The attachable webcam twitched and twisted on itself, turning around and setting its gaze onto the boy.
After a few seconds, the alarm clock went off. The screen of the radio-alarm showed 'G:ET' and 'U:P.' alternatively. The beeping of the radio only became louder as seconds grew.

The boy pulled his blankets over his head, but after a few short moments, he growled quietly in frustration. He thumped his fist down on the alarm clock, shutting the annoying noise off. He pulled himself out of bed, hair in disarray, pulling a shirt on as he went to sit in front of the computer. He didn't react to the image, nor to the weather outside. He was only half awake after all.

The incorporated speakers of the computer cracked and snapped. A small moment went by before the screen on the alarm clock went back to normal. The webcam followed Cika's shape, and then held still as he sat in front. Words first murmured out of the speakers, before the volume instantly turned up.
"Good morning, Cika Mercian," the machine spoke. The voice was gentle, yet had a tone of sternness in it. It wasn't painful to listen to, as it slipped as slickly as oil into one's ears. "Excuse me for the rude awakening. You do tend to sleep more these days. Before you speak, I would like you to know that these speakers only let information out. Thus, I will not be able to understand anything you are saying if you speak to me directly. You'll have to type, or plug in a microphone if you have one at your disposition."

Cika rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He looked at his desktop, first clicking on a photo editing program, setting it up in a small window in the corner of the screen, and then a word processor that took up the rest of the space.
Sorry Pencil Sketch, but Raven's sword training sessions are killing me, of course I gotta sleep more. He typed, having to correct his spelling several times until he got his brain back into gear. He leant back from the computer, stretching, feeling his vertebrae clicking together, painfully in some cases where Raven had whacked him with a dulled metal sword the day before.

The small skull screen shrunk to one of the top corners of the screen, appearing to be sighing. It then moved to the middle of the screen, staring strictly at Cika. The skull's jaw opened, revealing the glistening fangs as it imitated the mouth movements used for speaking in coordination with the voice which spoke through the speakers.
"Fine, but I also had another reason to wake you up this early," the voice explained, "today is the celebration of a limit of time which you humans have baptized 'The Day of Choice' for me. The Day of Choice is the 24 hours the user has to choose between keeping me or letting me be. But you must choose wisely. Keeping me would be accepting what I am. I am, after all, a virus. A perversion of technology. A destroyer. I have the ability to take lives and to save them, I have the possibility to change near and far future. But I am at someone's service. Keeping me would be agreeing the contract that you use me for your purpose. I am an object like any other. An intelligent one, yes, but merely an object. If you choose to let me be, I shall depart, and travel again until I find a new user."

Cika had to think for a few moments as the Pencil Sketch's words had time to sink into his sleepfogged brain. When they had rearranged the words into something cohearant with his half awake mind, he seemed to wake up.
"I... er..." He started to say. It was strange having the virus on his computer, yes, but he also enjoyed having the little person there for company. Another being that didn't have active demonic blood in their veins.

"You can still think about it, young one," the voice suggested softly, "you still have 23 hours and 58 minutes to answer. If you cannot answer in the time lapse, it is by default a negative answer, thus I shall depart." The computer explained it in a very simplistic and straightforward manner, enabling easy understanding. The virus had been programmed to do so to be able to get its words into the thickest and most foggy brains. The system seemed so simple, yet it was very complex to program.

Cika nodded, sitting back in his chair. He ran a hand through his hair again before starting to type once more.
I'm gonna go an visit Shiraku downstairs, ok? Do you want me to bring the webcam? He stood up, grabbing his cloak, pulling it around his shoulders before dragging a brush through his unruly, shoulder length hair.

"Sure, if you wish," the computer spoke, "although I will not be able to communicate like I do now, I'll still be able to visualize Shiraku." The skull shrunk back to the top right corner of the screen, the webcam following the boy precisely in every of his movements. It seemed as if the machine were alive, which wasn't completely false in this certain case.

Cika nodded, grabbing the camera as he headed out of the door. For the first few moments of the short journey, all Pencil Sketch would have been able to see was the folds of the boy's red cloak rippling as he ran. He pushed open the door to the hospital like room, greeting the girl warmly. He discreetly placed the wireless webcam on the table so Pencil Sketch could see his sister. The dark-blue haired girl certainly looked like Cika, apart from a few traits that had come with her demonic blood. She looked tired, as if she had been through a lot. When she smiled fully at Cika, her long, unusual even amongst the demons, canines were on view.

The webcam stood still a few seconds, before slowly turning to the girl and locking its stare on her. The webcam took a shot of the girl, to be stored in the long-term memory of the virus. It already had a few images, and it already knew about Shiraku's unusual body structure for a female of the human race. Fortunately, Pencil Sketch had been able to learn many things from Cika, and everything had been added to his memory. This information, though, was supposed to be classified by the government, and Pencil Sketch needed special authorization from the user to show what he had got.

Cika chatted quietly to his twin for a few moments until the girl slowly fell asleep. The boy gently pulled the blankets over her shoulders and leaving the room as silently as possible. He ran back up to his room and set the webcam back in its original place on his desk, sitting in front of his computer.
That's my twin, He typed to Pencil Sketch.

The skull stretched back to the center of the screen, before the speakers snapped and sound started to flow from them. The webcam changed angle and locked its gaze onto Cika as the computer spoke with the boy. "Yeah, I noticed that," the voice spoke in its normal tone, "you don't look alike at all. I managed to pinpoint a few shared facial features, but otherwise nothing at all. It's almost impossible to notice you as twins, really."

Well, not all twins resemble each other, it's just that she's able to use magic and... well... her cure that's made her different to me... Cika said, rubbing his eyes again. Hr couldn't help but remember that Vrael had had to bite the girl to save her, but turning her into a vampire. He sighed. It meant that one day, she could be separated from him forever again because of the danger between a human and a vampire.

"Ah, yes," the voice replied quietly, "supernatural creatures. I am not quite coded to be able to understand the knowledge of said creatures and races, so I may not comprehend what is wrong. Though, I have found many stories about vampires, demons, werewolves and such, so I learned how they lived. Or, at least, a little. My 'thoughts' were kind of messed up when I came upon a popular book where these fanged creatures were supposed to reflect a shiny substance when exposed to light." The computer hummed quietly, as though it were thinking. "But those tomes were only a few out of millions, and I have been coded with emotions, thus I prefer the old vampiric legends than to what seems the modern ones. People seemed to have originality in the old days, or so I believe."