Poacher
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
If you prefer to have some context of things before reading, there is a small glossary of lore-related terms used in this chapter on the BOTTOM NOTES.
In the next chapter I won't add those, since things will start to be explained through the scenes and dialogues, including some of these exact terms. So lemme know if you'd preffer them in all chapters, and feel free to skip that glosary if you prefer the mystery to brew for longer about those things. :)
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When the sun rose over Los Angeles, people in the city woke up, and went to work. They took care of their children, sent them to school. Did their shopping, drove places. Met for lunch, had dinner... But the kindred, of course, did none of those things. While the sun was in the sky, they were comatose. Their lungs were empty, eyes closed. Their hearts didn't beat... Because they are dead. But when the sun sinks below the horizon; their eyelids flutter open, and awaken into the night. Some to hunt, some to venture down to private affairs.
Three Kindred in particular started their night heading down the halls of Griffith college, their domain, where they have been informed of a particularly upsetting issue: a poacher.
While Nelli was focused on adoring her ruby colored manicure, legs crossed elegantly in her usual seat beside Victor, Jasper leaned his boney elbows against the table and let out a long sigh.
"So, what do we do?"
"Well, Jasper darling, it's not you is it?" Nelli arched an eyebrow, uninterested.
"I don't think it qualifies as poaching if I'm the one doing it." Took some effort for the Nosferatu not to grimace at her disdain, but at least that finally managed to draw Victor's attention out of his smartphone.
"And," Victor added matter-of-factly in a long sigh. "I think we know that he would cover his tracks much better than... this. There's missing blood, there's-- what, six students? What do we even know so far?"
"There is a rash of anemic students. Flu-like symptoms, people missing... " The Nosferatu complied.
Nelli set her unused glasses on the table, lost in thought.
"That explains a couple of my fashion students missing classes."
"Have you heard anything? Anyone on your 'blog' or whatever?" Victor asked, making quotation marks with his fingers to the word blog. "What is it even that you--?"
"Oh don't worry about it, I have a ton of things that I do." Nelli waved her hand before Victor could finish, rolling her eyes. "Right now we need to focus on how many students are missing. There are six of them, Victor. Focus!"
And it wasn't just students. According to Victor's contacts, they knew so far that there were several blood plasma bags missing from the infirmary in this last week; coincidentally at the same time of the anemia and flu-like cases, which were growing in number by the hour. So, either someone was very careless and very hungry... Or they had multiple poachers roaming around.
"Well, time is money." Victor claps his hands, getting up from his chair. Nelli stared at him when Victor looked down at both her and Jasper expectantly. "Let's go take a look. That's why we're here, after all."
"But, where do we even start?" She frowned.
Jasper arched an eyebrow back at the Toreador when she stared between him and Victor, expecting a volunteer. When Victor shrugged and also looked back at Jasper for the same, the Nosferatu leaned forward and motioned to his face.
"Well, I'm not the one going on to walk around campus, now am I?" He scoffed, claws lifting his comfortable black hoodie just enough to make a small bit of his distorted, horrifying self visible to them.
Nelli continued to stare at him, deadpanned, but Victor let out a heavy sigh.
"I'll go. I mean, I always like to spend some time with the people." He adjusted his expensive suit and tie over his tall frame, leaning back and sighing as he went with a confident smirk. As if it had been his plan all along, rather than him picking the short straw. "See what's going on. Make sure that, you know, record sales are up."
Nelli turned around on her chair to look at him, measuring her partner's expensive outfit with her eyes with a small smile. Under her gaze, Victor turned to her again and smiled back.
"Would you like to accompany me, my darling?" He extended his hand to Nelli theatrically.
She looked at it for a moment, before letting out a heavy sigh.
"Oh, I suppose I have to." she groaned, gracefully putting her glasses back on and getting up with Victor's gentlemanly, needless help.
Jasper got himself up soon after and put his hands on his pockets. "I will keep an eye on you from elsewhere."
"As you normally do."
"As always."
Victor and Nelli sighed at the same time, one with polite understanding and the other with dismissive sarcasm. Jasper grinned humorlessly as he followed the pompous couple out the door. Before he was fully out the wooden archway, his deformed figure was no longer visible to the untrained eye.
Unlike Victor and Nelli, who were both extraordinarily beautiful human beings and rejoiced in such good-looks also through their unlife, outdoor expeditions were not Jasper's forte. Going around the general populous was never an incursion that didn't require some preparation beforehand for a Nosferatu: the clan whose supernatural talents came together with a corpse-y, veiny and gross outwards appearance. One of his clan's abilities though was being able to cloak such a monstrous appearance, making him invisible so long he was careful about making physical contact with his surroundings.
So, to be on the safe side, despite his supernatural cover Jasper made his way outside through the sanctum's emergency exit, following along through the rooftops while his colleagues walked across the campus' quad.
Griffith college is a familiar sight to them - a small, private university that takes up several city blocks of East Hollywood. The buildings have an unusual architectural style, a cacophony of old and new melded together. Around 1930's, the main blocks used to be a movie studio during the silent movie era, then it was converted into a more modern facility in the 40's when the talkies came along. It fell in disrepair during the World War, but it has been slowly renovated with modern glass and steel since the college settled in.
The campus is always crowded with a diversity of young people, even at night; students going from dorms to the student union building, cafes and pubs... Even the library, or simply walking around the quad. Asphalt paths wind up their way through the manicured trees, all lit up by the pale light of streetlamps every now and then. And that night was no different.
In a dreadfully slow pace below, a couple yards behind him, Nelli and Victor casually make their way through the mass of sleepless students. Some eyes follow them, others gossip and click pictures - even while the duo clearly squabbles and bickers in hushed tones. Probably about their outfits or some other vain bulshit like that, Jasper guesses. He groans and rolls his eyes as he slows down his pace, not wanting to lose track of the two slowpokes.
The infirmary was located inside the student union building, a quick walk across the quad from their sanctum - a spacious meeting room secretly set on top of the college's music building, who took Victor's name in homage. Jasper sat down by the border of the adjacent roof on the other side of the quad when Nelli and Victor finally arrived at the infirmary, and occupied himself with observing their students in the area.
There was nothing particularly flashy going on, aside from a small group of students setting up mics and some instruments; guitar, keyboard and a saxophone not too far from his roof of choice. An odd time for an impromptu street performance, but then again, students that age had made weirder decisions; both through his own time as one, so long ago now, and in the last couple years he observed that place.
When the group finally starts playing though, Jasper immediately cursed having supernatural senses. Their sound was terrible, absolutely awful - an incongruent mashup of Simon and Garfunkel and Chelsea wolfe, and who knows what else. Unlike Victor Jasper was no music producer, but it didn't take a genius to recognize what an atrocity sounded like.
"Oh, man..." he grunted, grimacing as the grating sound pierced his ears. As if he needed that level of a distraction in a hunting incursion. "Alright. Great."
The students surrounding the group though, to the Nosferatu's disbelief, seemed to be loving it. A crow quickly formed around them, right outside the infirmary. To hold on to his sanity, Jasper focused on the people rather than their noise, looking for any sign of anyone paying more on the crowd than the musical anomaly echoing through the quad... But, beyond a mildly amused security guard on the building next door to the student union, no one seemed particularly suspicious.
"So disappointing..." Jasper grunted, blocking one of his long ears as the concert escalated from bad to worse, as the band replaced Chelsea Wolfe with REM in their mix.
Shaking his head, he decided to try again. This time perching closer to the edge of the building for a better angle; almost mimicking a gothic gargoyle, if he was visible to any of the mortals down below.
This time, he did see someone.
Down an alleyway slightly behind the bored security guard, a young man with short black hair and a Griffith College hoodie stared intently at the small crowd. He looked... Pissed off, angry. As if the bystanders themselves were some kind of affront to musical propriety, more so than the band.
Before he could pay more attention to the man though, Jasper's phone buzzed in his pocket. He leaped back to the safer area of the roof, sitting down before opening the stupid flip phone Victor had set him up with for their missions. Unsurprisingly, the texts were from the ventrue himself - they had made it.
The text contained three pictures of a computer screen, showing medical records of three students: A young red headed woman in a green leather jacket, who worked at the campus cafe. A freshman named Chen, who works at the library media center. And lastly, the third picture was of a guy named Juan. He was a nerdy type, very thin with short black hair, wearing a hoodie. He looked familiar...
Jasper looked up at the guy down the alley, and smiled. Quickly he typed up a reply to the group chat before putting his phone away again: 'I have eyes on Juan'.
In the timespan of typing and getting back to his former position though, 'Juan' vanished into the college landscape. "Fuck," Jasper clicked his tongue, annoyed. He adds the follow-up text of '...No I don't' before sighing and making his way down the building's firescape.
When he reaches the quad and strides closer to its middle, being mindful not to bump into any students, Jasper easily spots the black haired young man entering the library building.
"Ah. Gotcha." he snickers to himself.
On cue, Victor and Nelli emerge out of the infirmary. Speeding swiftly towards the building in question, Jasper swoops up behind them midway and whispers 'library'. Nelli immediately stiffened and squirmed in place, and Victor froze and stretched his neck uncomfortably.
"I hate it when he does that." Nelli spits quietly.
"I'll never get used to it..." Victor breathes out in agreement, clearing his throat. "But, yeah. The library. Uh, yes. Quickly..."
Jasper chuckles from the Library's entrance a few yards away, shaking his head. In the years they had been working together, that repeated reaction of theirs never ceased to amuse him.
"Wait. He's got the library taken care of, let's go to the coffee shop." Nelly halted midway, pulling Victor's arm.
"No. He can't exactly go into the library." Victor reminds her with a long sigh.
Nelli rolls her eyes in frustration. The combination of her disdain and Victor's thoughtfulness makes Jasper click his tongue, competitiveness spiked.
"Who. Says?" He scoffs.
When both halt their step and look around for him, Jasper unsheads the veil that kept him unseen so far, making his hideous features visible under the sickly orange glow of the sodium street lamps. Nelly scrunches her nose and frowns when she spots him, and Victor gulps down an expression of shock.
"Oh. It's. Uh, ugh." she groans under her breath, trying to compose herself.
Victor forces a smile. "Uh. Glad to see that--"
"I know what I look like."
"You know, the ointment's working. It is." The Ventrue cheers with a nonchalant chuckle, gesturing to his own face then pointing at Jasper's. His expression though is not as positive as he likely meant it to be.
"Thanks." Jasper mocks, rolling his eyes. Nelli laughs. "You sure you're not gonna mess up your suit or your shoes in there?"
"No, I'm not sure. No."
"My shoes got ruined last time because of you." Nelli huffs, crossing her arms.
Jasper ignores her tantrum, getting straight to business.
"Juan, one of the men you sent me a picture of," Jasper started, pointing at Victor who nodded. "Is inside the Library. Just thought you'd wanna know."
"Shall we go speak with him?" Victor turned back to Nelli.
"He looks..." Jasper added, frowning to the memory as both turned back to him and waited. "Upset. At least he was when the music was playing."
"Hm." Nelli scoffed, thoughtful.
Silence settled between the three Kindred for a moment.
"Never hire that band to your label." Jasper groaned as he leaned back against the wall.
Victor chuckled at him, nodding and pointedly shaking a finger. Clearly, from his stiff expression, he had heard at least some of the repertoire as well. As the ventrue agreed though, Nelli clung to his arm.
"No, no. Hire them to annoy him." she whispered.
"That's a good point." Victor's eyes sparkled to the idea.
Jasper rolled his eyes and allowed the shadows to swallow him once more as Nelli cheerfully chuckled to her small victory. She took Victor's arm as he offered it to her and motioned for the wide library doors. He could still hear Nelli's bored complaints about the place as they stepped inside the building.
"Libraries are such a yawn..."
"Knowledge is power." He could hear Victor shrugging back at her, then changing his mind. "Well, no. Money is power. But second to money, yeah, knowledge is power."
Jasper was relieved as the conversation got away from his direct range, the duo's disdain for their luck getting to Jasper's nerves almost more than the usual disposition of his Toreador and Ventrue colleagues. What wouldn't he give to be able to visit libraries freely again...
Unfortunately though, the silence on their side gave space to other things. Almost immediately Jasper was reminded that he wasn't far enough from the quad to be spared from the band's musical agony. The Simon and Garfunkel mashups continued to evolve into even more atrocious results; Along with the REM, they had now added something more to the mix... Maybe it was The Police, Jasper wasn't sure.
"Wha-- Who thought that was a good idea?" he growled to himself, puzzled. Jasper buried his face down his hands, groaning in despair. "Ugh, this is torture..."
He pulled back his phone and looked through the remaining pictures. According to the victim's information, two of them should be now in the library. Determined to create some space between himself and that auditory atrocity, Jasper texted the coterie's group chat his plan and started making his way to the cafe where the third victim should be working.
He is halfway there when his phone buzzes with a reply.
'Look for an Annabelle'.
Jasper smiles as the coffee shop comes into view.
Grounds for Coffee is the only cafe located on campus. There are others in the neighboring area, but of course, they're not as convenient. Because of this the place stays open until late and us always busy; and that night is no exception. The place is filled with youngsters, and finally the guitar and saxophone cacophony have fully faded into the distance.
Jasper sneaks close to the place, placing himself under the shadow of an empty alleyway across the street where he has a mostly clear view of the cafe's interior through their wide windows. He scans the mortals inside, attentive to anyone that seems remotely secluded or not as chatty and distracted as most clients. Overall, all the people inside seemed busy. Some of them were in small groups, chatting, eating and flirting, as most humans in their early twenties do. Others were too busy buried around piles of books and notebooks, clinging to highlighters and post-it notes as they studied. Or, well, tried to.
But no one was alone. No one was watching around.
No one resembled the disguised predators he knew all too well.
"Shit..." he sighed after a couple of minutes, giving up. Even eavesdropping to the mess of parallel conversations going around in there, he couldn't hear anyone call to 'Annabelle' or any shortened variant of it.
Soon after, Nelli and Victor caught up. Jasper leaned back against the coffee's brick wall as the couple walked into the carefree environment, letting out a wave of generic muzak seep into the street through the glass doors. Not great, but definitely not as dreadful as whatever that was in the quad.
He watched the couple whisper, looking around. When the murmurs stopped and, in an offended scoff, Nelli looked up and down Victor's outfit and blurted something out, the couple's murmur quickly turned into a squabble. Groaning in frustration, Jasper stepped forward and made his way into the cafe as the couple's attention got - once again - sidetracked into themselves.
He waited for a bit, not risking to have any mortals see a door opening on it's own or accidentally becoming visible, then shimmed through into the place once a young couple walked in. Immediately Jasper overhears Nelli scoff a condescending "you wish." through a smile, swiping a wave of her long navy blue hair to the side. Victor, beside her, is glaring indignant at whatever had just been said.
"Excuse me, I paid an excessive amount for this suit." He scoffs at her, adjusting his suit matter-of-factly. "This is Egyptian Cotton, thank you very much."
Nelli gazes him up and down again and snorts.
"Well you're paying the wrong tailor, then."
"Would you two get your shit together, please?" the nosferatu hisses, standing right by their necks. The duo freezes immediately, Nelli's nails digging down her palm in her surprise. Victor chokes.
"You-- It-- Fi-- wha--" he sputters, but then breathes in deep and clears his throat. "He's right. Business first."
Nelli sighs, unwillingly. "Fine."
Jasper steps out of the way before anyone else comes in, and positions himself closeby in the vacant space between the entrance and one of the first row of seats, crossing his arms.
"Apparently she works here." Victor mumbles.
Still unseen, Jasper nods, and starts looking around along with the others now through the few staff members walking around between the tables. The first person to catch his eye - and luckily Victor's too - is Louann, the red headed sophomore also described in the medical reports. Nelli soon spots her too, standing behind the counter.
The social couple walks up to her.
"Excuse me," Victor starts, smiling cordially. "Uh, is 'Annabelle' working tonight?"
The young woman looks up at him, at first surprised but then guarded.
"Ah, she-- Yeah, wha-- No, maybe?" she mumbled, offering them a stiff smile.
As she did, Louann discreetly peeked over Victor and Nelli's shoulders; Well, or tried to. Her attempt to grab someone's attention was embarrassingly obvious. Nelli and Victor exchanged a look, and Jasper tried following Louann's eyes across the cafe. Victor swiveled himself around and pointed his thumb back at no one in particular.
"Is that her?" he asks the startled clerk, who has now gone terribly pale.
Nelli immediately stepped forward, a friendly smile carefully crafted into her expression. She reached a hand to the panicking girl, holding her arm.
"Look, we're here to give her a scholarship for the university." she smiled, and Victor nodded with equally professional composure. "We just want to give her a couple questions and see her place of work. To decide if she qualifies."
Louann's shoulders visibly laxed in relief, her pupils dilating as her mind fell prey to Nelli's supernatural persuasion.
"Oh, okay." She smiles vacantly. "Scholarship, wow. She will be really thrilled. She has been having some issues lately, so she could really, really use the money."
Nelli nodded as she spoke, encouraging her. Victor too.
"It's her lucky day." he smiled.
"I didn't know they gave out scholarships like that, out here in coffee shops..."
"Well, we're still working on it." Nelli admitted, leaning back. "We wanna get to know her a bit more first."
"Okay. Well, she doesn't exactly work here anymore, but sure. Whatever." Louann frowned, before shrugging and pointing back to the spot she had previously tried to peek towards. "She is over there, in the red jacket."
Jasper spots her quite easily once the receptionist gives the descriptor. In one of the last tables by the bathroom doors, an asian woman with long black hair partially shaved in one side is sitting by a window with another student. She has a red leather jacket on, dark jeans and snickers. The guy with her is a tall, muscular type with a blonde crew cut, wearing a lacrosse sweatshirt.
He made his way quietly through the establishment and positioned himself close by, listening in while Victor and Nelli finished their social maneuver. Annabelle was clearly in her early twenties, wearing a delicate gold necklace with a small heart pendant that seemed out of place in her punk-ish outfit and hairstyle.
The two students were smiling at each other awkwardly, chatting in a hushed tone.
"Are you... sure that's what you want?" the young man asks, hesitantly.
"Yeah." The girl in the leather jacket nods, biting her lip. She looks just as stiff as the guy, whatever the topic might be, but her gentle expression and delicate facial features make the stiffness on her end seem more charming than cringey.
"Uh, well, okay. But we can't do that here."
"N-No, of course not." Annabelle quickly shakes her head, laughing and fiddling with the cord hanging from her jacket's cotton gray hoodie. "Just, like... In a couple hours?" she looks up back at him, hopeful.
"Do you wanna go back, like, to my place?" The guy offers, pointing out the window.
Annabelle's eyes widen and she considers it for a moment, before smiling and nodding. She has a wide smile, genuine and earnest. Almost naive looking, which again - seem almost out of place in her strong and edgy style.
"Yeah. Sure." She sighs. "That'd be great."
Lacrosse dude grins back to her and claps his hands, and gleefully stands up.
"Great. Yeah, let's go."
"Okay."
"Okay." he repeats, still smiling awkwardly.
"Okay, alright." Annabelle chuckles nervously and rubs her hands through her pants, getting herself out the table and slipping her hoodie on. "No use to brood further about it, I guess."
Her escort nodded as he waited for her, shifting from a foot to the other. He pulls out a wallet and throws some bills on the table once she is up, then both follow side by side towards the door. As Jasper tails the duo with a couple steps between them, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Groaning, he glares at Victor before checking the message. 'They're heading out. We'll take her outside'.
The nosferatu holds back a heavy, snarling sigh. No shit, sherlock. Jasper doesn't bother to reply as the buff blond walks by Nelli and Victor and opens the door and stiffly offers the leather jacket woman his arm.
She halted when he did so, putting a hand dramatically over her chest.
"What a gentleman. Look at you." she gapes, laughing shyly and snaking her arm in his. The guy chuckles in response, proud.
"Yeah." he scratches his neck. "Should we go?"
"Yeah," she nods, smiling. Her tone hushed when she continued. "Thanks."
Jasper slips outside with them when the blond holds the door open. They walked quietly for a moment, arm in arm and exchanged glances, before the woman cleared her throat.
"Thanks though, for this. Honestly."
"Yea, no, no problem." the guy smiled.
"But, uh, yeah. Let's just, you know, keep this on the down low." she grimaces uneasily as she asks, looking around. "I mean, I know your team and your teammates and everything aren't gonna talk, but..."
"Oh. Oh, yeah. No," the guy nods in agreement calmly. "I don't think they'd understand."
"Yeah..."
"But I do." He quickly assured her, putting his free hand over his in his arm. "I understand."
Annabelle smiled.
"I know. I know you do." she nodded, softly. "You're different."
"I totally get it, I sympathise with the position you're in... I'm, I'm happy to help."
" 'cause you're awesome." Annabelle smiled wider. "Did you know that?"
Lover boy blushed lightly, but nodded as he chuckled to her compliments. Jasper cringed and had to hold himself not to barf at the awkward, obviously half-meant compliment show. Charming or not, 'Annabelle's' acting was definitely not her strong suit... Even though the blond seemed to be buying it.
"Yeah, You know, I heard it before." He chuckled proudly.
"Can never hear it often enough though." Annabelle pointed, smiling. "Right?"
"Yeah." They both laughed.
Jasper halted when, a few moments later, the woman frowned and tensed up, looking around uneasily around his direction. She didn't seem to have actually seen him, but the reaction made him smirk with suspicion. Surely enough, she had sensed something. And no mortal could actually do so, not with the level of his abilities... It could also explain that dude's blind willingness to her. She had her charm, sure, but it did feel somewhat forced.
They strode ahead a little more quickly after that, loverboy telling her excitedly about the lacrosse team and the local championships they were participating in. The woman nodded and hyped him up, though her attention didn't seem to be all there. Both headed down across campus, in the direction of a modest apartment building a couple blocks away from the college dorms. When they got closer to one of the buildings in particular, silence settled itself between them once more.
"So, uh..." the guy started uneasily, clearing his throat. She waited. "How, how we... How do you... Uh, I mean... It's, It's..."
He sighed uncomfortably, still trying to pick the right words. The woman gaped and cleared her throat as she caught on though, all of a sudden once again seeming stiff and awkward.
"Oh, no worries. It's okay, uh." she shook her head quickly, gripping to the boy's arm nervously. "It's all hygienic and safe and everything. I got, uh, I got a needle and a bag..."
Jasper chuckled under his breath to the accidental confession. Bingo.
"Whoa, I-I see. uh..." the dude laughed.
The anxiousness in the guy's demeanor clearly deflated Annabelle's nervousness into a sulked, pale tension. But she carefully masked it up under a sighed, shy laughter.
"I mean, If you're still... Still into that..." She offered, examining her pair's eyes warily.
Noticing so though, the lacrosse boy chuckled once more and patted her hand gently.
"I'm, I'm up for anything." he assured her, calmly. Then looked away. "Just, you know. Never done this before."
Relief washed over the woman's features almost immediately.
"That's ok, I really get it. No need to be nervous."
When the duo stops in the building's front door and the boy starts to pat his pockets, then fumbles with his keys, Jasper halts and looks around for any sign of his colleagues. But there is no sign of either Nelli or Victor. His phone buzzes almost on cue, and he sighs at the messages; it's Neli, warning they had been - unsurprisingly - slowed down by students asking for selfies with Victor. Jasper simply gives them the building's address, then hurried through the front door once the lover boy finally got it open.
"You're so sweet." Annabelle gapes once more at him when the boy holds the door open for her. Teenage-y, flirty calm fully back to her demeanor. She got through soon after Jasper, waiting as her date closed it behind him. "You know, I never really got how lacrosse works and stuff. Maybe... you could teach me some of it?"
"Sure!" the guy beamed, shoving his keys back to his pocket. "It's totally cool. It's awesome."
He goes into a really unnecessarily detailed explanation of the finer points of lacrosse and its general history as they make their way up the stairs. They turn left on the second floor and a few doors after it, lacrosse dude gets out his keys again and opens an apartment door.
Standing by the corner, Jasper sneaks his phone out and texts down the group chat the apartment number. When he looks back, the door is open but Annabelle is now a couple steps behind her companion.
"So, you really are cool with this. Right?" she asks, worried.
The blond man stops and turns to her.
"This is where we make sure, then?"
"Yes." she nodded, stepping closer. "I'll be discreet, and I know that you'll definitely be discreet. I just wanna make sure that you're still fully ok with everything."
He nodded, seeming appreciative.
"I am totally into it. Yeah." he assured her. "I wanna help."
"Okay, awesome." she smiles again, relieved. It's only then she starts walking again, heading inside. "It really, really means a lot to me. Thank you so much."
"No problem." he smiles, then shuts the door.
Jasper can hear the sound of a bolt being clicked shut in the silence of the empty hallway, and their muffled conversation fading down the interior of the apartment. A few minutes of waiting later, steps echo through up the stairs. Nelli and Victor emerge slowly up the hallway, checking their phones and conspicuously stopping by the corner.
Jasper heads closer to them, just in time to hear Victor sighing to him and Nelli under his breath. "So, how do you wanna go in?"
Nelli shrugs, looking at the seemingly nothing around them.
"Jasper is the concealed one."
"I mean..." Victor scratches his short, neatly trimmed beard worriedly. "We can't let her hurt this kid. Not on our watch."
He and Nelli exchange a long, serious look, and the Toreador frowns at him.
"Why would you think she's--" Nelli starts, but lets the words die out midway when Victor's eyes widen indignantly at her half-question. She is not too pleased, but can't exactly argue either. "Oh, okay."
With such blatant inexperience, it was obvious how letting her feed with no consequences could end up. They all knew what those first nights felt like. And even without listening to her miserable attempt at a conversation like Jasper just had, seeing all the tracks she had left behind made all too clear for anyone looking. She was green, too green.
The three of them stood there in silence for a moment, before Victor cleared his throat.
"Jasper?" Nelli mumbles.
"Do you happen to have, uh, any lockpicking skills?" Victor whispers.
Jasper sighed to the enquiry, groaning and fumbling with his pockets as he approached the door. The sound gave Victor and Nelli finally a direction to look at, and they followed him suit from a short distance. Jasper was decently skilled at these, usually... Though he wasn't sure how they'd go through the deadbolt.
Once his lockpick touched the lock his body became visible to the others, who nearly bumped straight into him in their surprise. The apartment lock was an old, simple model... But somehow he couldn't find his way through it. Something in its mechanism was bent out of shape, maybe? There was no way to be sure with those old things. Jasper grunted in frustration when his lockpick snapped broken, getting up and grimacing at the duo watching him. Nelli especially had one of her eyebrows risen in shock.
"You're supposed to be good at this!" she hissed in disbelief.
"Yes. It doesn't always work." He forced a sarcastic grin, before scoffing and leaning back against the wall.
Victor walked in between them, patting the Nosferatu's shoulder. "We'll do this the old fashioned way." he nodded, pointing towards the corner behind them and then knocking on the door. Jasper sighed but complied, getting himself hidden out in the adjacent hallway.
There was muffled talk inside the apartment, but no actual movement. Victor knocked once more and yelled "Landlord," when silence fell on the other side in his best authoritarian tone.
A couple seconds later steps approach and the bolt clicks open. The buff - and now shirtless - guy Annabelle had lured down appeared out the door, hurriedly trying to snake himself into a shirt. Jasper could see Nelli smirking and drinking in the young man's physique, though she remained silent.
"I'm a little busy, wha-- wait. You're not the landlord!" the dude gapes, and more steps echo. "Hey, stop!"
He peeks over the corner just in time to see Victor being shoved out the doorway.
"Run, Annabelle! Run!" the lacrosse player yells into his apartment.
"Chris?" the woman's voice echoes from afar, startled.
Great... Jasper sighs.
He considers to rush out so he can see where the girl will be attempting her escape from; But, as he is turning to get out... Jasper sees Victor rushing back inside with a dark glimmer in his eyes. Blood coils in the pit of his stomach, as Nelli also noticed and quickly tried to hold Victor back - but too late.
The Beast was out.
"Fuck!" Jasper curses, running out his hideout.
A couple feet into the apartment, lacrosse boy - Chris - is pressed against the wall with Victor's tall frame bent over him, pinning him down. There is screams and moans mixed with growls, that likely have been heard through most the neighbouring apartments. The young man is bigger than Victor when it comes to muscle, but nowhere as tall - or strong as a famished supernatural creature. As much as he tries, his arms are unable to move the frenzied Ventrue's sharp fangs out of his neck.
Jasper dives into the apartment and grabs Victor's shoulders, trying to untangle the vampire from his prey without slashing the human's neck open. Nelli stays behind them in the doorway, trying to spot their target's escape route without being hit by the two squabbling men or staining her dress.
It doesn't take much effort to pull Victor back. The ventrue seems to be coming to his senses when Jasper reaches him, but still, the Jasper pushes him away from the limp human for safe measure. He is a weak, moaning mess as the ecstasy from The Kiss slowly fades into dizziness and pain, clutching to the open gash in the nape of his neck.
"What is wrong with you?!" Jasper growls as Victor still stares at the young man menacingly, his suit and beard washed down with fresh blood.
The ventrue glared at him with ragged breaths, then looked away, wiping some of the blood of his mouth. Jasper sighed in exasperation, snarling to the annoyance.
This was gonna be a long night...
------
Chris' apartment was modest, made out of a wide common living room and kitchen, then two doors; which Annabelle guessed were a bathroom and a bedroom. There were trophies and sports posters decorating the hallway and living room, and some unwashed dishes by the sink.
"Come on in. Uh, make yourself comfortable." Chris hurried after locking up the door.
Annabelle chuckled to his courtesy and nerves, following him down the hallway. She wished this felt less awkward after a week, but the guilt bubbling down inside her felt almost as uncomfortable as the hunger.
The door he led her to opened to his bedroom. It was filled with clothes all over, lacrosse and workout gear, and a computer. She looked around, setting her purse on the bed.
"So, how do we..." Chris cleared his throat.
"Right, yes." Annabelle chuckled, zipping her purse open. "Uh, I'll just need you to show me your arm, and..."
Turning around she was met with Chris taking his whole shirt off. As she presumed, the sight was impressive; the jock had toned muscles and abs like Mark could only dream of. And she'd needed to be blind not to linger for a moment, before her nerves got back at her.
"Well, that works too." She laughed.
He flashed her a smug smirk and extended his left arm. Before she could compose herself and properly hook the bag in though, there was a knock on the door. Chris froze.
"Uh, hang on. I'll sort it out, maybe it's the landlord or something." he grimaced apologetically.
Annabelle felt a dry, burning wave of anger soar through her chest. She had to physically shut her eyes and swallow it down, biting her lip not to snap at the poor dude. It wasn't his fault, but the thirst stabbing her didn't care.
"C-Can't it wait?" she chuckled, trying to seem nonchalant.
Chris offered a small smile, but seemed unsure. Then a couple more knocks echoed in the hallway.
"Landlord." a man shouted.
Annabelle grimaced, rolling her eyes. "Ugh..."
"Oh, man..." he huffed, grabbing a random shirt. "Hold up, I'll be right back. Uhm, make yourself at home."
"Alright, alright. It's cool." Annabelle sighed and nodded, sitting down in the bed as he strode out.
She looked around oddly for a while, playing with the needle she still had in one hand and Elle's locket with the other idly. She could hear Chris clicking the lock open and snapping impatiently at the visitor, which made her smile a bit. Chris was no Elle or Mark, but he was nice in his own way. She was lucky to have met him... it felt wrong to keep asking her other friends. They looked so sick now from helping her so often...
Suddenly though, the conversation outside exploded into a mess of yells, growls and clashing sounds. Annabelle stiffened, letting go of the locket and the needle.
"Chris?" She called out, hesitant.
"Run, Annabelle! Run!" Chris shouted out to her, and more crashing sounds exploded down the hallway, followed by a mess of other voices.
Annabelle shot up out the bed, impulse kicking in. "Chris?!" She yelled.
When the only answer was more screams and a savage, growling sound, Annabelle grabbed a lacrosse stick from the corner of the bedroom and yanked the door open.
She wasn't sure what she expected, but it definitely wasn't the mess she found.
Chris was slumped against the wall by the front door, pale and limp, clutching to his neck. There was a pool of blood oozing down his shoulder, its scent making Annabelle shudder and her mouth water... though the notion of her hunger acting up even in a moment like that made her disgusted with herself. On the floor a few feet away from him, a tall black man in his mid thirties growled and huffed like a wild animal, wiping out a mess of blood out his mouth with the back of his hand. The savage, beastial expression in his face didn't match the elegant black suit and social blue shirt he was wearing.
The sight was scary enough on its own, but it was nothing compared to the horrifying... thing looming over him.
Annabelle had never seen something so horrendous, and she could barely even see much of it from the bedroom door. Despite being humanoid, the creature's body was weirdly disproportional; overall it was tall and lanky, with wide shoulders and a prominent hunchback, but skinny limbs that were noticeably too long. It had it's back to her and was dressed in black from head to toe, but Annabelle could still see it's boney, protruding shoulder blades and hip bones through the fabric. Its thin arms ended in long skinny hands, of ash gray skin and claw-like fingernails that were gripping the blood soaked man's shoulders tightly.
"What is wrong with you?!" the thing snarled in a deep, hoarse male voice, that thundered animalistically across the apartment.
Annabell gripped the lacrosse stick tighter. The bloodied man said nothing to the creature's accusation, simply looked away. He got up - which made him nearly a foot taller than the very tall hooded figure - the man simply cleared his throat, taking a long deep breath and adjusted his tie.
But doing so, his eyes fell on Annabelle, and the rage from before was back in his features. "We need to talk!" he barked at her, pointing.
She braced herself for a fight when the man stepped forward, but the hooded creature blocked his way. It gripped the man's shoulders again, shoving him back a few steps.
"Well, first off..."
A sultry female voice rose from the hallway, accompanied by market stiletto steps. It's owner was a beautiful, dark blue haired woman, dressed in an elegant form-fitting black dress and blood red jewelry. She walked with the grace and elegance of a modern, fashion diva version of Morticia Addams.
"You need to calm down." She sighed, pointing at the dark skinned man with disdain, then closing the door.
"Yes. Please." The hooded creature sighed, though it sounded more like a snarl.
Annabelle took the chance to rush down to Chris' side, the lacrosse stick still in hand. He was paler than a paper sheet, barely conscious. "Oh, god, Chris." she lightly shook his shoulder, trying to get a reaction. "We, we have to help him! He--"
Before she could even finish, the hooded figure stepped closer to the black man.
"Fix him." He growled, pointing down at Chris. "NOW."
The tall man didn't appreciate the order. His jaw locked and he huffed, glaring at the creature fiercely. Annabelle tensed at the weight of their exchange, though the creepy whatever-it-was didn't seem as phased.
"Argh! Fine." The dark-skinned stranger scoffed.
He kneeled down beside Chris and grabbed the boy's wrist, yanking it away and revealing two arching wounds made by sharp fangs in his neck. Annabelle felt her stomach clench with both the smell of it and the confirmation of what had transpired, though the latter was far more terrifying. Because this meant she could finally get some answers. Those strangers clearly were... Like her... Even though they didn't seem to be there on friendly terms.
When the man pulled Chris' closer by the back of his neck and started to languidly lick the wound, Annabelle snapped out of her shock.
"Oh my god, what are you doing?!" she screams, "Get away from him!"
Anabelle pushes the stranger away and swings the lacrosse stick towards him. Despite the close distance, the black man backed away just as the bat swapped in front of him, barely scraping his nose.
"We're cleaning up YOUR mess!" he growls indignant and wide eyed.
Anabelle's eyes widened.
"Excu--mine?!"
"Na. Shh." The diva clicked her heel on the floor, pointing her sharp blood red fingernail at Annabelle like a mother shushing their child... Well, or a dog considering the condescending tone of her voice. "Calm. Down."
Before she could begin to protest, the pale deformed creature bent down closer to her, its eyes fierce in menace as it pointed one long boney finger to her face. Annabelle's eyes widened when she looked over; the creature's face was twice as terrifying than its silhouette. It had big, glowing silver eyes glaring down at her from the darkness of its huge, baggy hood. All she could see of its face was a long nose, thin lips and shallow cheeks of the same impossible corpsy skintone of his hands.
"Sit. Down." he growled.
"No!" She yelled, swinging the lacrosse stick against its hand.
What had been inpatient anger before now bubbling into self-righteous, bewildered rage. She positioned herself better in front of Chris, who was now completely down on the floor looking half comatose. As she turned back to their attackers, though... something caught her attention. Right before her eyes, the puncture wounds in Chris' neck that the man had just licked started closing down. Annabelle stared dumbfounded, unable to believe it. But there was no denying it; in a couple moments, Chris' skin was whole as if nothing had ever happened. The strangers stood around her, observing in silence.
"A-Ann-Annabelle?" Chris moans out, bringing her eyes back to him. "Annabelle?"
"Chris? Yes, here, I'm here. It's ok." she hurriedly scooched closer, helping him sit down. His eyes are half open, eyebrows frowned in confusion. "God, I'm so sorry..."
"Are, are you alright?"
"Y-Yeah, yeah. I'm okay." she gulps, worry and guilt consuming her like oil thrown over flame. "Are you ok?"
"Well, I felt better..." he groans vaguely, rubbing his neck.
"Uh. Well, you're making jokes so... That's, that's a good sign." Annabelle breathes out a small nervous laugh. "Just s-stay conscious, okay? Stay awake. It'll be alright."
He nods to her dizzily, not looking fully awake. Annabelle makes sure he is safely against the wall before flinging herself up and turning around, jaw locked and breath fuming. She grips the stick tighter than ever and pulls closer, ready to yell the bastard's out of there...
But chokes when she turns around to a gray, boney finger a millimeter away from her.
"Shh. Just--"
The creature demands before she can even start, and the surprise of nearly poking her own eye into his claw silences Annabelle long enough for him to gather his words.
"Contrary to... what present events imply," He glares at the couple behind himself, before turning back to her. His voice is calmer now, though it still kinda sounds like Batman. "We're not here immediately to hurt you."
While Annabelle is trying to decide how to take those words, a frustrated click of tongue makes the creature turn around.
"Oh, don't frighten the poor child." the elegant diva sighs as she approaches Annabelle with open arms. "Come, dear. Let's sit down."
The hooded figure frowns at the woman when she walks straight past him, confused and noticeably offended. "I was just trying to be nice." he mumbles to no one in particular, leaning against the door. The pout in his voice catches Annabelle off guard.
Meanwhile, the lady casually snakes her arms around Annabelle's shoulder and pushes her unceremoniously to the living room. The two other strangers follow a couple steps behind them. Chris gets on all fours and shuffles away from them, slumping himself on the floor by the opposite side of the room.
"Pst. You. Stay. Just- go, go away." The diva shushes towards Chris with a disgusted frown. Annabelle's eyes widen at the outrageous gesture; she waves him away as if he is a stray dog trying to lick her fancy dress.
"Chris, J-Just lie still for a moment." she cooes to him apologetically. "Everything is gonna be ok."
He nods to her with eyes closed, trying not to fall asleep. Then, shaking the woman's hand away from herself, Annabelle glares down at the intruders. "You guys. Better. Start. Talking." she growls, pointing her armed hand at them. "Now."
"Are you going to hit me with that stick?" The pale creature mocks tediously. He's leaning against the archway dividing the living room from the hallway, hands crossed over his chest.
"Depends on what you tell me and what you're gonna do next." Annabelle glares at him but the creature simply grins, wickedly amused.
He slowly holds his hands up in a mocked surrender, long slim fingers sprawled on each side of his jagged, sharp-fanged grin and laughs. The sound is dry and hushed, weird in his guttural voice. Annabelle feels a shiver go down her spine to the sound and his expression, but the frustration of not having been taken seriously burns heavier than her fear.
"Don't move!"
"You know, I wouldn't speak to him as such." The lady casually advised, bringing Annabelle's attention back to her. She had her legs crossed and one arm draped over the back of the couch, in a way that accentuated her silhouette. Her other land was extended in front of Annabelle's lap. "Now, put the stick down."
Annabelle scoffed at her condescending, bored stare. When she didn't move, the diva peered at her with a sharper look, nodding to her still open hand.
"Come on." She cooed. Annabelle frowned at her presumptuous motherly tone, still not moving. But the woman simply rolled her eyes and breathed out a giggle. "What? I'm not gonna hurt you. Do you really think I can actually hurt you?"
She gestured widely to herself... And it wasn't an unfounded point. Despite shorter, Annabelle was clearly way more well built and athletic than the delicate, voluptuous woman in front of her. BUT. Considering what she had just seen and the obnoxious amount of reading she had been doing about... well, anything even remotely similar to her condition, paranoia had already settled in about trusting looks when deciding what was or wasn't a threat.
"I, I mean," she started, shifting in her seat. "I assume you're, like..."
The woman raised an eyebrow at her to continue, smiling. The two figures behind her had their eyes on Annabelle as well.
"Like..." the hooded creature trailed off.
"...What?" the dark skinned man hissed.
Annabelle gulped under the thick, heavy tension the room was suddenly filled with. Her eyes wavered between the three in a feeble, ridiculous search for a hint that could spare her of making a fool out of herself. Sure, it seemed fairly obvious. But that didn't make the words any less embarrassing and off-putting to use.
"L-Like..." she tried once more, but her confidence and anger were now wavering into self-consciousness.
"Oh, come on! Out with it already." The lady snapped. "What do you think?"
Annabelle flinched. But before she could try once more, the tall bloodied man stepped forward and raised his hand.
"Actually," he pointed at Chris on the floor. "Let's not have this conversation here."
The woman and the creature look down at Chris simultaneously, seeming to only then remember that he was still in the room. And, well, that this was his house.
"Oh."
"Fair point." The creature steps away from the wall and does a vague, wavy gesture towards Chris. "Why don't you do your thing?"
Annabelle tenses when the other man nods and kneels down by Chris' side. When his eyes fluttered open, the man gazes into them with a stern expression.
"Is he going to be okay?" Annabelle asks the woman.
"He'll be fine." The creature answered instead, unbothered.
"Now, Chris?" The black man asked, and Chris' expression suddenly turned even hazier, his pupils blown wide. "I will need you to forget all about this."
Annabelle feels weird as she hears the words. It's like they echo in an odd way, almost... Like there is power in them. And, surely enough, once the man finishes Chris shuts his eyes back and shakes his head. The creature pulls his hood further over his face and turns around, his long, claw-filled hands diving to his pockets when Chris opens his eyes back and starts to look around. Leaning by the archway like that, it almost looks like any random dude.
"Wha-- uh, what is going on," Chris mumbles, sitting a little straighter. He frowns and rubs his neck uncomfortably, stunned when his hand smears over the blood then confused when he sees the strangers. "Who are you people?"
But there's no panic, or worry. Right before Annabelle's eyes, Chris simply shrugs and stretches down lazily, then turns towards her after his eyes focus a little better.
Had he... really just wiped out Chris' memory? With simply one look?
"Annabelle, are you okay?" Chris puts his hand to her knee, worried, but then sighs. "Ah. Hey, that's my lacrosse stick. Please don't break that."
"Huh? Ah, oh." She shakes herself out of her stupor, forcing out a stiff chuckle. "Uh. Sorry?"
The black man looks back to Annabelle, the rage in his expression now subsided into a mild, lingering discomfort.
"What happens now depends on you," he mutters, hands in his pockets. "We need to leave, and we need to do so now. Without him."
He stares at her seriously, but Annabelle shifts in her seat, unsure. Without answering, she held Chris' arm, turning fully to her.
"You okay?" She mutters, worried. Chris still looked pale, but his expression didn't seem so filled with pain anymore.
"Uh, sure." he frowned at his bloodied hand. "Was this really what you meant though? Cuz I thought it'd be different."
The lady beside her frowns.
"What would be different?"
Annabelle grimaced, scratching her cheek lamely as she handed him the lacrosse stick.
"Sorry... Here is your lacrosse stick."
"Thanks." Chris smiles.
Part of her felt tempted to just wait and see what happened, but her gut feeling craved answers far more than safety or blood at this point. She was pretty sure trying to evade those people would be a fool's errand, especially as she still felt their eyes trained heavily on her.
"We can have coffee some other time and chat."
"Sure. So, I'll call ya?" He asked, hopeful.
Annabelle nodded as she made her way out.
"Yeah. See you in Socio."
Meanwhile the black man chivalrously offers his hand to the diva, helping her up. She smiles and slips on a large pair of red sunglasses that had been hanging by her cleavage, then strides calmly out the apartment.
"Bye, darling." she waves at Chris on the way.
"Bye, Chris." the pale creature muttered.
He waved back at Annabelle and the stranger, then flopped onto the couch with a long, strained sigh. Annabelle turned to get her bag in his room, but nearly slammed onto the hooded figure, who was just coming out of said room with her bag hooked over one of it's wide lumpy shoulders.
"Uh, thanks?" She reached for the bag tentatively, but it simply stood there, unmoving.
When it was clear she'd have to move first, Annabelle hesitantly gulped her panic away and started walking. When they crossed the front door, the creature closed it behind them. The lady was waiting beside the black man out in the hallway, adjusting her hair while he typed in an expensive looking smartphone. When Annabelle got a few steps away, he stuffed the golden phone inside his suit.
"Annabelle, right?" The man asked, now definitely calmer. She closed her hands in fists, wary, but nodded. "Look. We're going to answer all of your questions, we just cannot do it here. Do you understand?"
She nodded, but remained stiff. Stuck in place. Annabelle wanted to run off or say her mind as confidently and self-assured as always, but... she couldn't. Be it for the man's imposing size difference to herself, his weird companions, the fact he was still covered in blood or all the weird things she had just witnessed and didn't understand... Annabelle knew that he was no regular businessman, shady senator, or gangster. No one like the usual types Mark, Ellenore and herself were used to handle and put in their place during the protests and movements.
No... There was something about this man that demanded respect as much as her fear, on a primal level. Something dangerous.
"Are... are you..." she started, her voice barely above a mumble despite her firm glare at the man. "... are you going to hurt me?"
"That depends."
The hooded creature's raspy voice mumbled, reminding Annabelle his presence behind her. The black man frowns when he does, but gives up whatever he was about to say when the creature's eyes meet his.
"What?" the thing frowns, puzzled. Then, it slouched one of his arms and let her bag slide out of his shoulder, offering it back to her.
Hesitantly Annabelle picks it up and hooks it across her shoulder, just as the blue haired diva's arm snaked itself around her again.
"Come now, darling. There are... better ways to meet lacrosse players if you want." The lady cheered with a smug, almost snobbish sort of warmth. "Let's go. We'll teach you. Well, I'll teach you." she murmurs, winking. "I'm better at it than they are."
Annabelle wasn't sure what part of her mind to believe as she let herself be led forward by them. The mixed signals from all of them were starting to make her head spin... it was all happening way too fast.
Then, as if on cue to that thought... The bloodied man halted and turned around when they reached the staircase.
"Annabelle..." He muttered, staring at her thoughtfully. "Sociology student Annabelle?"
The question caught her off guard, it almost sounded like an accusation.
"Uh... Yeah...?" she trailed off, hesitant.
The frown in the tall man's expression deepened into a stare of terror, and he suddenly turned sickly pale. His jaw locked, his eyes widened. Annabelle wasn't sure what to expect, but the lady and the hooded figure at least seemed just as confused.
"Are you dating a guy named Mark?"
And then her mind exploded.
Maybe it was all the blood, or the adrenaline rush. But, as soon as Mark's name rolled out of that man's lips, a spark flashed in her memory. She knew him. She had seen him, multiple times, in a particular photograph. He was the man standing beside her boyfriend's graduation picture, down in his dorm room. The man she had heard so many heartfelt venting sessions about, but had never actually met. That they both kept up with in the news and social media, and argued and ranted about for hours every time his name came up.
"Mr. Temple...?" She gaped in absolute disbelief.
Mr. Temple muffles down a long, exasperated sigh with his hand. If it was possible to look any more shocked, Annabelle was sure her eyes would have rolled out of their sockets.
"Great. It is her." He groans.
The sentence made the silence in the hallway shatter. Behind her the creature scoffed out a quiet chuckle, and the woman let her arm fall out of Annabelle's shoulders.
"She knows you?" she demands, an arched eyebrow raising above her sunglasses.
"She is dating my son." Mrs. Temple breathes out as if the words weight a ton, pinching tightly the bridge of his nose. At least he seemed to be having just as much of a mental breakdown as Annabelle was... And so did his companion.
"Ah." The blue haired woman froze.
"What?" the hooded guy gaped.
When Mr. Temple didn't evade or glared down at his question, the creature's raspy low snickers evolved into a loud, growling laughter. The sound was gleeful just as much as animalistic; still creepy, though in a mischievous way.
"Wait so, who's the-- Lemme get this straight, there's a--" The blue haired woman started, snapping her glasses off to reveal a confused, shocked and kinda hurtful frown.
"Oh, I'm sorry." The creature muttered at Annabelle, still in its laughing fit.
She had no brain power left to react though, too caught up on the fact that her father-in-law was in front of her covered in blood. And that she had just half-witnessed him attack one of her classmates for no reason, and magically wiped down his memory of it.
"Wait-- Does he know about...?" Annabelle trailed off, almost choking.
"NO." Mr. Temple hissed urgently, then looked around and lowered his voice. " And he will never know. I -- In the car, we'll talk in the car."
The blue haired woman though was still lost in her own shock.
"But... Lacrosse player--"
"In the car. In the car, in the car. We'll talk-- We will talk IN the car." Mr. Temple snapped when the woman started talking, glaring at her pleadingly and severely. "We're not gonna hurt you. We're not-- We're NOT-- going to hurt her."
He assured Annabelle anxiously, then turned to the others with a deadly, commanding glare. Especially to the hooded figure, who immediately tensed up to it.
"I didn't do anything!" The hooded creature barked, indignant.
"Yeah!" Annabelle swung Mr. Temple's hand off her shoulders. "You're the one with blood on your suit."
"Exactly."
He seemed to only then remember the mess he was dressed in. He sighed with disgust at the splatters of blood still all over his shirt and suit, but took a deep breath and shrugged it off.
"That's why we're leaving." Mr. Temple paraphrased.
"I don't have blood on my suit."
Mr. Temple frowned and glared impatiently at the hooded creature mumble. "You're not wearing a suit."
"It's a type of suit." The thing shrugged, unconvinced. Annabelle couldn't hold back a chuckle.
Despite its creepy physique, she had to admit the dude had style. He was wearing a well fitted black hoodie that went down over his hips and had the hem stylishly thorn, dark jeans and heavy duty black boots. It was very simple, but badass looking too in its own way; especially in contrast with his odd gray skin.
"Oh, dear Lord. Okay!" The woman sighed, gesturing to the front door. "Let's just--"
"Yes, please." Mr. Temple begged.
"Alright! Alright. Let's go." Annabelle finally surrenders.
Mr. Temple groans in relief when they finally start moving. They all descend the stairs in silence, the blue haired woman adjusting her hair and putting her glasses back on when they reach the front door. Mr. Temple opened it for them, waiting for his companion and Annabelle to cross by before walking out himself. The hooded figure, pulling his baggy hood even further over his face, hides his long hands again in his pockets as he crosses, shutting the door behind himself.
Barely a second later, a large luxury black SUV parks in front of them. The windows were tinted dark enough that Annabelle was barely sure where the painting ended and the windows started. The driver side has the window down, revealing a very attractive young woman with long black hair by the wheel. She was dressed in mechanical clothes, some oil and grease visible in the fabric and hands as if she had just been messing with an engine.
"Mr. Temple," the woman gives a short nod, "Where do you want to go?"
"Just drive for now, Ib." He sighs, then opening the car's door to Annabelle and the other two. "Uh, in the car. Please."
The lady got inside the car without a second, and despite some hesitation, Annabelle joined her in a seat behind her. The hooded figure is seated beside Annabelle, and Mr. Temple sits beside the diva. Once all doors are closed, the car slowly moves away from the college.