Scenic Route
Once the car is safely in motion, the creature sitting beside Annabelle sighs and stretches against the seat, and the way he seems a lot taller now makes her look his way. Although his spine is still clearly twisted forward, the hunchback from before had considerably subsided.
He was forcing it… She notes to herself, curiosity spiking.
Then, when he slid the hood off, Annabelle understood why.
The creature’s ash-gray skin is covered in dark, protruding veins webbed all across his bald scalp, that cover all except his ears and face, and continue down his neck. The back of his head is misshapen, covered in lumps and cavities; as if someone used it as a punching bag. His ears are long and slightly pointy, and his big eyes were sunken deep into his head. They have an odd, darkened layer of dry skin around them that keeps his iris with a faint sort of luminescence even now that they’re not in the dark.
Though… Looking now so close - and with less growling involved -, Annabelle notices he looks… Well, pretty much like any dude in his mid twenties. Severely beaten up and malnourished, sure, but surely not that monstrous as the hood and batman voice made him seem to be back in the apartment. That thought makes Annabelle very uncomfortable with the stereotypical way her brain immediately entitled him a thing so far, even though he had been the only one not really doing anything creepy or offensive.
It’s not until he turns his face fully towards her, one thin eyebrow arched up, that she realizes she had been staring.. Annabelle turns her eyes to the floor quickly, guilt overflowing into her.
“Sorry.” she mumbles.
“What?”
There is a long pause, and she sees through the corner of her eyes that he is staring at her with a confused frown, rather than any offense.
“I, just--” she stutters, before peeking once more at his corpse-like skin and his big clear eyes, then turning her eyes back down. “It’s rude. Sorry.”
On either side of her both the lady and the pale man himself choke down.
“No. It’s really not.” He snickers, and there is almost… an amused endearment on his tone. And indeed - when Annabelle looks back at him, all she sees is him observing with odd curiosity. Still holding back a laugh.
“Ugh! Come on,” the blue haired lady snaps their attention back towards herself. “Out with it.”
And just like that, all the eyes in the car are over her again. Annabelle stares at them, at first in a blank, before recalling what they mean for her to say… But the word is still stuck in her throat.
“UGH!” she groans, dropping her face in her hands. “This is really stupid. It’s really, really stupid!”
The strangers watch her mental meltdown in silence.
“Is, uh, there a name…?” She tries, biting her lip. “For, uh... what’s happening?”
It looks like they all are going to continue waiting for a moment, but then the pale man raises a finger. Annabelle turns to him, relieved.
“One thing, before we get to that question.” he clears his throat. “I was following you, for a little while. And I think ‘what have you been telling other people?’ is a better question.”
“Uh, I-- Just that I have this… Genetic disorder that is starting to manifest. And, that... I need... blood?” The lady and Mr. Temple exchange a skeptical look. Hoodie guy, too, seems utterly underwhelmed. Annabelle cringes, self-conscious. “T-There is a lot you can get away with if you know how to e-edit Wikipedia properly, okay.”
“Alright, as long as there are--” the pale man sighs, tilting his head. “You didn’t use any… word? You know, maybe related to books?”
“Or movies…?” Mr. Temple squints his eyes meaningfully..
“I can’t say ‘Vampire’ !” Annabelle finally manages to yell out.
The lady groans.
“Oh, god.” the pale man sighs in both relief and exhaustion. “Yes.”
“Of course I didn’t! That’s not-- Not--” Annabelle stuttered through her embarrassment and anxiousness, gritting her teeth to the bare thought.
Mr. Temple takes his focus out of the conversation and starts to shuffle out of his suit, so she turns her eyes back to the pale man. Seeing her boyfriend’s father changing clothes was not something she was eager to add to the list of uncomfortable things she had gone through on that damn night.
“Oh, god. My god.”
Annabelle buried her face down on her hands again, trying to hold back a fit of nervous laughter. When there’s no more sound of fabric shuffling, she looks up and tries to steady her breathing.
“Okay. So. Does Mark--” She starts on impulse, but halts. There was no way he did know… She had tried talking to him about it not even two nights ago, and he had not really believed her. “How long have you been hiding this from him?”
Mr. Temple, now fully dressed in a clean black shirt and a tie, looks back at her and lets out a long sigh. He turns around in his seat, facing her despite the position being clearly uncomfortable for his stature.
“No. Listen, we’re going to talk about Mark later. But I need--” He raised his hand, but then his expression stiffened. “Wait, have you--”
“I think he just thinks you don’t-- You haven’t seen him in like, a year, and--” Annabelle continues talking over him, unable to stop herself. “And, and, why did you do that to Chris? I--”
All the tears of her boyfriend’s vulnerable, heartfelt talks about his father and their broken relationship come into her mind and mingle with the mess she just witnessed. Despite her still present hesitation and fear around him, more than anything now Annabelle really really wanted to get up and slap the hell out of that man’s face. But there was more here than Mark’s side, and her mind held on to it before lashing all her pent up anger out.
The question seems to stir something inside Mr. Temple, whose frown deepened into an accusing, menacing scowl. He bends forward in his seat closer to her.
“Have you done-- Have you done this to Mark? Have you fed on Mark?”
“No!” Annabelle jolts forward, outraged.
“Okay! All of you!” The lady yells, pushing him back towards his seat. Beside Annabelle, the pale man does the same to her.
“Yes, before we get into that...” He glares at Mr. Temple, then to her.
She looks between him and Mr. Temple, who does the same before sitting back, breathing out and adjusting his tie. Annabelle hesitantly does her best to school herself down as well.
“Thank you.” the blue lady nods, then waves her hand to the pale man. “Jasper, go ahead.”
“So, that word--”
“Yes, Jasper! You have the conch!” Annabelle yelps, slapping the pale man’s arm.
There is a long, heavy, uncomfortable pause as they all stare in shock at nothing then back at her as if she just swallowed a frog. Stupid nerves, she curses to herself.
“What?” the diva frowns.
“Its, uh, a literary reference.”
“Right, don’t worry about it. Anyway,” the dude who diva called ‘Jasper’ quickly reassures her before continuing. He seems to be holding back a laugh though, which comforts some of Annabelle’s embarrassment; at least he got the joke. “Yes, so that word that you used? Don’t use that word. It doesn’t-- We don’t use it either.”
“Vampire?” Annabelle spelled it out.
“Yes, don’t do that. We don’t-- It’s not a thing.” he clarifies. “I mean, yeah, it’s a thing; it’s a word. But it’s not a thing.”
“...What?” Annabelle chokes in another nervous laughter fit, unable to make any sense of his awkward mess of an explanation. Good intentions aside, apparently talking was definitely not his thing.
Jasper sighs, annoyed.
“Look--”
“It’s not our word.” Mr. Temple comes to the rescue.
Though the blue lady frowns thoughtfully at that.
“Isn’t it?” She ponders. “You sure?”
“Oh, my god… My God! Okay!”
Annabelle rubs her eyes, trying to juggle all those nos, yeses and maybes in her head. All she wanted by now was just to wake up from this messed up drug trip. Yes, sure, She was a vampire, and was riding an SUV with three other vampires - one of which happens to be her boyfriend’s dad - who she may or not have just offended for using the wrong supernatural pronoun - or whatever the hell it was called. Right. Great. Yup, perfectly sane. Just what she needed.
“Look at me.” Jasper calls out patiently. “Look--”
“Okay. No, no, Okay. I understand.” Annabelle breathes in and out, managing to school herself again after a long sigh. “Uhm. So, what is the preferred term? That, that you-- I mean, that… w-we--”
“There are a couple, but the one we usually use is ‘Kindred’.”
“Kindred?”
Jasper nods.
“Kindred.” Annabelle repeats to herself. It did sound less cringey than ‘Vampire’, at least. “Okay.”
“I mean, we don’t go around saying it, but that’s what we call each other.” Jasper explains further while she tested the word, which makes sense. People didn't usually go around introducing themselves as humans in every conversation, either. “Or ‘Licks’, if you’re not feeling particularly nice.”
“Okay. Alright.”
“Yea. Now, look--” Jasper continues again, but then frowns at the other two. “...Why am I doing this?”
The blue haired lady shrugs with a soft chuckle, but does nothing; clearly too amused with the scene to interfere. Mr. Temple, beside her, just readjusts himself on his seat.
“Who is your sire?” he asks thoughtfully.
“My what?”
They all wait a while longer, despite her blank stare. After the silence finally became uncomfortable enough for them, Jasper groans out a heavy sigh and jumps to the rescue again.
“Your, um- How do I put this...”
“Your maker.” Mr. Temple offers, more determined. “Who did this?”
“Who Embraced you?” the lady suggests.
“Your vampire daddy.”
The SUV freezes with Jasper’s chosen suggestion, then erupts in a mix of annoyed chokes and hysterical laughter. Annabelle can even see the driver woman - Ib - peeking back through the mirror with a judgemental frown.
“My vampire daddy--”Annabelle is sprawled against her seat, laughing both out of surprise and humor as much as annoyance for this horrible timing. She can hear the lady choking in outrage in the seat ahead of her. “I thought I can’t use that word!”
“WHY!?” the lady croaks through a disgusted mumble.
“You literally just told her not to use that word!” Mr. Temple thunders in agreement, laughing loudly.
“I am using words she can understand!” Jasper protests, his hands up in exasperation. “Do you think she knows what ‘Sire’ means?”
“Great! great! Great, great!” Annabelle tries to control her cackles, pushing in another deep, almost hurtful breath. “No, I don’t! Actually.” she shrieks in a mix of leftover nerves and laughter. “Thank you!”
“Well then.” the lady facepalms.
They all take a second to breathe down and recollect themselves. When Annabelle turns back to them, all expressions are stern... Almost worried. She can feel herself shifting under those stares, uncomfortable. Vulnerable. Under the mess of hunger and weirdness that last week was like, Annabelle had been admittedly trying her best to avoid thinking back on it. She is not sure she can keep her poker face up if she gets too much into this, let alone if it’s safe to go revealing what really happened to strangers… Even worse, actually - to Mr. Temple.
“Uhm. I-- I don’t, I don’t know.” she manages to mumble out. “I don’t know.”
There is a brief silence again, but there is no tension this time. The three strangers stare at her quietly, understanding. They believe her. Annabelle feels herself relax under those looks, though the prospect seems somewhat odd… All things considered.
“So, I’m going to go on a limb and say that,” Jasper starts a few moments after, “The reasons that there have been these flu-like symptoms that we’ve heard so much about on campus is because you’ve been feeding.”
Annabelle shifted uncomfortably to the word ‘feeding’, but nodded. “Yes.”
“But, this-- This is fine. You didn’t say ‘vampire’, you got permission.” Mr. Temple quickly started listing, hopeful. “You haven’t killed anybody?”
Annabelle’s eyes widened.
“No!”
“Okay, good.” Mr. Temple smiled, his eyes switching to his two companions as he nodded. “No no, this is good. we can work with this.”
Jasper also seemed more at ease. “Yeah.”
“But, wait. What do you mean this is--”
“We have to take her to the Baron though.” Mr. Temple spoke above her.
Annabelle frowned, her previous thought gone. He was talking to his companions, and there was a worried frown now back over his eyes, and both Jasper and the Lady seemed uncomfortable as well.
“We have to.” Mr. Temple shrugged, his hands gesturing it’s not my call.
“Not yet.” the lady protested, wide-eyed.
“Wait. The who?” Annabelle frowns. “The Baron?”
“Uh, um.” Mr. Temple raised his hand to get her attention. “He’s--”
“You’re putting me on!” Annabelle cried, indignant.
Then Jasper patted her shoulder, his boney fingers cold to the touch.
“Our boss.” he explains, with a small humorless - almost sarcastic smile.
“Well, your boss too.” Mr. Temple adds with an arched eyebrow.
Jasper chuckled as he let go of her, cocking his head to the side. But while they all nod emphatically to that statement, Annabelle throws them a disbelieving, skeptical glare.
“I don’t have a Boss.” She scoffed.
“Oh, you do now.” the lady turned on her seat to peek at her.
“Yup, you do.”
“You’ve got a boss now.”
They all repeated as if that was a piece of common knowledge and not up for discussion, which made Annabelle’s frown deepen. But, before she could press further - ‘Will I Find My Home’ echoes out of her pocket. Her stomach twists, and all eyes turn back to her again.
"Who's that?" The lady frowns as Annabelle picks up her ringing phone.
"Um, its..." Annabelle clears her throat. "Sorry, I need to, just-- All of you, be quiet! I need to take this."
They all frown indignant with her request, but she accepts the call before they can argue. Immediately, Ellenore’s voice is there, and Annabelle is on the verge of crying.
“Hey!”
“Hey babe,” She smiles.
“Hey, are you done? Are you coming back?”
“Uhm...No,” Annabelle mumbles, biting her emotions off. “I, Uh.. There wer--”
She can hear the frown in Elle’s voice as she fumbles stupidly with her words. Around her, the strangers frown and mutter amongst themselves, clearly tense and uncomfortable all over again.
“Belle, are you ok?” Elle's worry is palpable.
Annabelle can’t help but sigh.
“No, I am not.”
“What is going on?”
“I’m… In a car with some people tha-- I met Mark’s dad--”
A loud forced cough echoes inside the car, snapping Annabelle out of her sentence. On the other side of the SUV, Mr. Temple is glaring at her severely and shaking his head, the lady in blue beside him face palming with exasperation. Jasper, beside her, is staring wide-eyed at nothing as if someone just punched him.
Annabelle clears her throat, uneasy all over again.
“Wha-- Mark’s dad? Mr. Temple?!”
Something cold grips her and, before Annabelle can react, the phone is yanked out of her hand. “Hey!” She yells, but Jasper’s long arm is holding the call too far away from her. When she leans forward and gets close to it, he pushes her back and clicks out of the call.
“What the hell?!”
Annabelle glares at him, then the others; but the severe expression in their stares bring a chill down her spine. Mr. Temple leans forward in his seat slightly, pointing at her.
“One of the first things that you need to understand,” He paraphrases, then gestures to all of them and the car. “Is that we don’t talk to people about any of this.”
“We don’t tell anybody?”
“No!” Mr. Temple repeats.
Annabelle frowns, outraged. “Wha--You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Oh, I think we can.” Mr. Temple and the lady beside him chuckle acidly.
There is a long, heavy silence as Annabelle stares down at Mr. Temple. Her chest heaves and her jaw clenches. This - this was the kind of arrogant, bulshit attitude they had been fighting for so long now. And, supernatural threat or not, there was no way Annabelle was simply gonna sit down and swallow that. Not when it came to Ellenore.
“No. You. Can’t.” she growls at him, fists closed. “I am a grown ass woman and you’re a deadbeat father!”
“Wow, Ouch.” the blue haired lady laughs, eyes wide. “Shots fired!”
Mr. Temple sighs and turns to give instructions to the driver again. The car continues to drive smoothly through Hollywood as they talk, avoiding traffic through side streets. Annabelle doesn’t really recognize this area, and a sliver of panic strikes her when she realizes she is not sure how long they have been chatting, or where they’re leading her.
“Can I handle this?” The blue haired lady bends around her seat again, looking at the two men while Annabelle is distracted with the view outside. “Are you all done?”
Jasper bends closer and looks like he is about to say something, but cocks his head aside and gives up, getting back to his seat and signals a wide be my guest with his hands.
“Wonderful. Now, darling - woman to woman. Talk to me.”
Annabelle breathes in and out slowly, glad that the woman - now at least - seemed a lot less bossy than the two - or her previous demeanor, actuall.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiles, and this time the arrogance and over-the-top poshness from before are not there. “Listen. What you’re experiencing is quite the tragedy, and I understand. We all went through it.”
There is a heavy silence inside the car, as the view outside slowly shifts from the quiet side streets to the busier city center. Mr. Temple, now done with his directions, is sitting sideways back on his seat; but his expression is brooding, half his face buried in his hand. Jasper still has his eyes on the window, expressionless, but his attention is not really there. Though Annabelle doesn’t regret it, part of her anger cools down with the realization she clearly struck a nerve with all of them, somehow.
“It fucking sucks.” She chokes.
“Yeah, feel that. It’s rough.” The lady nods. “Everything you’ve ever known is gone.”
“Great.” Annabelle sniffles and looks away with a dry, sarcastic chuckle. The tears from before again trying their hardest to make an entrance.
“It’s the truth, you have to accept it. But, the good side is,” the lady cooes to her in a slightly cheered tone, though it somewhat feels forced. Unlike the last two sentences, it doesn’t seem her heart is all in it. “You get to keep your face. You can still go out, and do what you like to do under the moonlight… So long that you don’t tell anyone our secret.”
Annabelle breathes in deep, before turning back to the woman and observing her eyes carefully. Then, to the other two who are still oddly silent and thoughtful. And the message in their eyes is as sad and serious as in the blue haired woman’s eyes.
“You don’t… have people that you trust this with?” Annabelle frowns. “I mean… What is the point of living if you don’t have somebody to share it with?”
This time Jasper blurts out a low, quiet chuckle and turns back to her. The lady, too.
“We’re talking about it now,” Mr. Temple arches an eyebrow. “Do you feel any better?”
“Um. I am getting a couple of answers, so… A little bit. But also things are very confusing so, no. I don’t know, it evens out I guess.”
“Let's try to put this in a way that you - as a student - would understand.” Jasper starts, but the smile on his face puts Annabelle off. It’s sarcastic, dry… Very different from the amused yet calm, helpful demeanor he had a while ago. “Think about it this way. You, being what you are, have people you love in your life. Right?”
She feels reluctant to encourage him, but nods.
“Then people - other ‘people’ like us -, who may not like you as much, find out that you have other people in your life. That you love.” She frowns to the way his voice escalates as he goes on, angry and almost hurtful. Before she realizes, her mind is already painting a picture of what he is getting to - and her hand is on Ellenore’s locket. “What do you think happens to them?”
Still bent over the seat in front of her, as if there was even need to confirm it, the blue haired lady slides one of her long, beautifully manicured red nails across her throat. Annabelle gapes, dumbstruck at the grim message he was leading her to.
“You wouldn’t.” her voice was barely above a whisper. She stares at him, then at Mr. Temple and the woman; shocked, scared… but also defiantly. “You wouldn’t.”
Jasper growled in frustration, rolling his eyes.
“I wouldn’t, I don’t care.” he spats. “But other people might.”
The silence was thick enough to be cut with a knife, once more. Annabelle’s hand tightened around the locket as she measured their expressions attentively, still filled in cold dread - but there was no threat in their eyes. No power play or second intentions. Just… A sad, actually heartbreaking sort of warning. The way harsh, unfair truth and reality checks feel.
“Now you know why you haven’t seen me around my son.” Mr. Temple says, and the way his voice is low and honestly raw, in both sadness and offense, sounds weird in comparison to the confident businessman persona he had up until now. “Because the last thing I need is someone trying to get to me through him. Trust me, none of us wants to not be with our loved ones, either. But we have to - for THEIR sake even more than for ours.”
“Why...” she relaxes a bit, but worry shifts focus. “Why would somebody...”
“Because we, as in Kindred,” Jasper says slowly,and despite still sounding a bit wicked and creepy, he sounds a bit calmer and indifferent again. “Most of the time don’t tend to like each other very much. Regardless of who you are.”
The lady and Mr. Temple nod to his reasoning matter-of-factly.
“This level of cooperation is unusual.”
Mr. Temple gestures to the three of them.
“When you work for the Black Baron, it happens.” The lady sighs.
Annabelle feels rocks inside her chest, and she needs a moment to process it. It was hard to keep up with the emotional roller coaster that night had turned itself into, going from gothic horror fantasy all the way down to sly, deadly mafia bullshit. The kind that the movies make no one survives in, and everyone loses.
Sure, Bram Stoker and Underworld had given her a good amount of nightmares about the danger of personal connections and the consequences of revealing the wicked nature of Vampires to regular people, along with many other pop culture sources Elle and Mark had helped her look into. But, somehow, the ridiculousness of it all actually being reality - despite the undeniable proof - had managed to keep Annabelle still hopeful that, deep down… Maybe this was some bad dream she would be waking up of at any moment. Or some sort of disease or scientific misunderstanding she was reading too much into.
There was no way she had randomly been turned into this fantasy dark, evil leech like… Monster, who in stories always had such dark realities around them. Always surrounded by so much loneliness. So much death.
This… This had to be a joke…
Right?
“I mean, hey. Plus side,” Jasper mumbles after a long, heavy couple of minutes, his voice back to the friendliest tone a gloomy, batman-like voice like his could possibly reach. “As long as you don’t do anything stupid, you get to live forever. Yay...”
He widens his eyes and waves his hands to the last bit, pushing his voice up a notch in a very awkward and forced attempt to make it sound cheerful. Though the entire gesture only lasts a moment. Mr. Temple joins in on the little cheering sounds, though his attempt is a little less uncomfortable to hear than Jasper’s, and lasts longer.
“I’m almost 70.” Mr. Temple adds proudly, puffing his chest.
And this does make some of her stupor fade, eyes wide in awe. Unknowingly her eyes trail to the blue haired woman, curious. She seems to be around her 30’s, but it's hard to tell how far. Definitely close to Mr. Temple’s - well, apparent - age, but for sure a bit younger.
“A lady doesn’t speak her age.” she declares with a wave of her hair when she feels Annabelle’s eyes on her.
“They’re older than me.” Jasper mumbles soon after.
Annabelle doesn’t manage to fully make herself smile, still too horror-struck with this crazy reality check, but does appreciate their effort… Regardless of the obvious underlying mockery tone it had. Then, out of Jasper's hoodie, Will I Find my Home echoes once more. He carefully digs it out and extends her phone within view, but still out of reach.
"Now, smooth things over and don't tell her. Please?" He requests with an exaggerated, cringing smile in the last word, still not handing her the device. Annabelle breathes in to hold her temper, before nodding. Jasper evaluated her expression for a long moment, then finally handed it to her.
"And it wasn't Mark's dad." Mr. Temple demanded, seriously.
“I’m not gonna lie to my girlfriend!” Annabelle hissed.
Mr. Temple and the blue lady’s eyes went wide as saucers, then frowned almost as quickly. “GIRLFRIEND?!” they both gasped in utter confusion.
Annabelle growled in frustration at the judgmental stare and shook her head; so typical… An entire year dating and surely only a fucked up family like the Temple’s not to know of his own son’s life to that extent. Great, not only she was a vampire, but also thought of as a cheater by her stupid in-law now. Perfect first impressions.
Annabelle shrugs it off and recolects herself as she looks down to Ellenore’s picture in the caller's ID, then gulps down and accepts it. On the other side of the line, Ellenore’s sigh of relief is immediately against her ear. “Hey," Ellenore’s voice smiles, still worried. “I love you."
And there they were; the tears were right around the corner.
“I love you too…” Annabelle chuckled, sniffling to keep them at bay. “I need you."
"Oh, I am so yours."
“Forever?” Annabelle breathed.
“Forever.” she doesn’t even hesitate, and Annabelle feels her face getting wet. No one around her comments, and she quickly wipes it out in her sleeve. “Now, what’s going on? Are you okay? You sound awful...”
“I-- Yeah,” Annabelle mumbles, sighing. God, where to even start? “It’s… been a rough night.”
“Well, come home and talk to me about it.”
“I-- I can’t, I, I’m gonna be out for...” Annabelle gestures questioningly to Mr. Temple, who shrugs and waves his hand with a wide gesture. A long time, overnight. Annabelle’s heart sinks to the prospect, but she nods. “Like, a couple more hours maybe? I don’t know.”
“Hours?” Elle’s scoffs, disappointed. “What are you doing?”
“I, I just...”
But there is nothing Annabelle can think of an excuse. No real reasoning she believes enough to say without being obvious. With all the emotional and information overload she is already under, there is really nothing Annabelle wants more than just to go back home and sink into Elle’s arms.
“...Fine. Don’t tell me.” The hurt in her tone stabs Annabelle.
“No! no, no, no, no. It’s okay. It’s okay.” she hurries, giving up. “Look, just trust me. I, uh… I may be getting some answers about, you know, the thing. Okay?”
Mr. Temple and Jasper groan and facepalm loud enough that Annabelle is sure Ellenore was able to hear, and beside them the blue haired lady stares at Annabelle with an ice cold, disbelieving glare. She gestures for Jasper to snap the phone out of her hand again, but this time, the man doesn’t move.
“Oh… Oh wow.” Ellenore gasps, though in awestruck understanding. Despite the glares around herself, Annabelle can’t help but to smile, imagining her girlfriend’s expression. God she misses her already. “Wait, really? REALLY?”
“Yeah… I know.” she chuckles, exhausted. “So...”
“Okay, I get it. I get it. Sorry,” Ellenore quickly cooes to her, sighing in relief. “You do what you have to, babe. I’ll be here, call me if you need anything. I’ll keep my phone on. Ok?”
“Okay.” Annabelle smiles. “I love you.”
“Just, be careful ok?” She can hear Elle’s smile as she mutters. “I need you.”
“I, I will. I am yours.”
“Forever, babe.”
Annabelle makes kissing sounds then finally hangs up, closing her eyes with at least a little bit of relief for the first time in hours. The other three wait for her to look back before howling their disapprovement, and she appreciates so. When Annabelle does though, as expected, they explode.
“Seriously?!” The lady gapes. “Did you hear anything we’ve JUST said?!”
“Have you told Mark about ‘the thing’?” Mr. Temple questions with a pointed finger in her face.
Annabelle tenses, then shakes her head. Mark didn’t exactly believe her when she told him anyway, so for the moment it was probably safer for her and him if they didn’t know about that. Mr. Temple sighs and frowns, unsure but - thankfully - not pressing it further.
“I NEED you to understand something very, very clearly. I am not joking around here, and whatever you think of me doesn’t matter. You need to take this very, VERY seriously.” He looked at Annabelle straight in her eyes as he spoke “The place we're going - if you repeat in front of them that she knows about ‘a thing,’ she's dead. Everyone she knows is dead. Anyone she might have texted IS DEAD. So if you care for her at all, you're going to have to learn from this exact second how to keep a secret.”
Annabelle shivered under the words and the pleading severity of his stare. Not because he looked intimidating, but because of the worry she could see lingering behind his frustration and anger. The palpable, begging worry he was trying to convey. That was not being said as a threat… It was a warning, and he meant it fully. Every single word.
Well, that or he was a phenomenal liar… Which wouldn’t be surprising for someone that was widely believed to be part of criminal business behind his popstar facade. But… The serious eyes of the other two as he proclaimed the whole thing threw that particular belief slightly off.
“There's a little show we have to put on - you might call it a sort of ‘masquerade’ that we have to live into, that means: None of this is real.” He gestures to themselves and the city, huffing. Annabelle shifted in her seat, butting her phone back into her pocket.“Never in your former life did you think this is real, and it has been the entire time. So, from now on, learn to lie to your girlfriend if you want her to LIVE.”
“Or if you want to live.” The blue haired lady added somberly.
“That too.”
Jasper chuckled. But, again, there was no real humor. When he realized Annabelle lingered staring at him, stunned, he cleared his throat and shrugged.
“I mean, want a bonus? You at least get to go out in front of people. Just saying.”
“Ha! Exactly, at least you don’t look like that.” Mr. Temple laughs and nods, pointing at Jasper’s face. “There's a bright side."
“I didn’t always look like this.” Jasper gestures matter-of-factly to his face, baring his wide and creepy fanged grin to make his point. Annabelle frowns, looking between him and the other two uncomfortably as much as curious.
“Why do you let them speak like that to you?” she asks in a mumble, just to him.
Jasper simply frowns confusedly, seemingly caught too off guard by the question to respond… Which, admittedly, bothered Annabelle even further about the whole thing. Where those two always like that towards him? Enough that this was somewhat an expected reaction?
“I always looked like this.” The blue lady smiles, adjusting her hair proudly without the slightest remorse or recognition to Annabelle’s discomfort. Mr. Temple laughs approvingly, admiring her.
“And you always will, too.” he winks. The woman rolls her eyes, but her smile widened.
As they laugh and continue flirting, Annabelle sighs heavily and leans back on the seat, looking out the window. The car was moving slowly, stuck in traffic on a highway she finally recognized; they were heading towards the busiest center of hollywood.
“I’m glad you can all joke about this...” she groans, burned out.
“We've been like this for a while.” Jasper shrugs.
“Yeah, you get used to it.” Mr. Temple nods, then clears his throat. “So. We’re on the way to meet some very important people, that will literally decide your fate. Do you have any questions you’d like to put to us before we get there?”
Annabelle gaped at him, too exhausted and dumbstruck to even start to formulate a sentence, even though she had a dictionary’s worth of questions and doubts brewing wildly in her mind to the offer. Far too many for a single night, let alone a brief car ride.
“I know it’s a lot, sorry.” Mr. Temple chuckled. “But here we are, and better us than them.”
“Okay. Uh…" Annabelle blinks a couple times, then sighs and just let's the sea of questions flood out. “Why am I always hungry? And why- I mean... Where do I start? Like what happened? Who are these people and why do they think that they can be my boss? What-- How did you find me and--”
“So you don't know who-” Mr. Temple made a vague gesture of claws close to his neck, then sighed. “We call it Embrace, but you don't know who your Sire is? Your creator, your maker?”
“Sire means the person who made you what you are.” Jasper repeats quietly.
“Yes. You really don't know who it was? What do you remember?”
“What did they look like? What were you doing...?” The lady encourages her.
Annabelle gulped down her nerves, letting her mind go back down the lane she had been avoiding. That night by the Senator’s office, the day she, Mark and Ellenore had finally decided to take a step ahead. She wasn’t sure how much of that part it would be ok to actually reveal, so she cleared her throat and decided to stick to all the events around it.
“There’s… Not much. I was- I was closing up at the coffee shop and there was- I think it was a man. I can't be sure, I just heard a voice. And then I felt- It felt so good. But then the rest of the night is like a kaleidoscope and I just remember little snatches of things.” Annabelle’s voice shook as she forced herself down the events, her eyes watering against her will. “I, I remember his voice, and-and the smell of- Was it citrus, or pine, or something? I'd know it if I'd smell it.”
She sniffled and buried her face down her hands, trying to focus all her senses into her mind… But there was a frustratingly vague amount of memories there, regardless. Only flashes of the house. The fire. Ellenore and Mark’s voice screaming for her. The darkness, the pain. Long, dark streets. And...
“And then, there was a room and there was a young man in the corner. He was young. Young...” Her hands gripped each other tightly in her lap, as her eyes swam into the memory haunting every sleeping hour she had throughout that entire week. That room. That fucking, damned room. It’s raw brick walls, the stench of mold and dust, the darkness and filtered neon lights coming from some sign out the window. The excruciating hunger. “And the voice through the door said... that…” She gasped, scared to bring it out into reality. Her eyes fell back down her lap, and the tears finally broke out. “...it was a snack.”
Around her all of them remained silent, simply staring as she broke down and sobbed into her hands. Her voice shrieked and heaved with every breath, unwilling to steady enough to let her keep talking. But no one rushed her though, they simply waited in silence. Observing her, taking it in.
“And so I-- I don't remember if anything happened or what- I just remember there was a high window and I got out of it. And I just ran.” She wailed after a long while, hands shaking through her almost controlled sobs, back in her face. Annabelle could feel that her face, neck and shirt were already soaked in tears, but she didn’t bother to wipe it down anymore. “And all I thought of was home. So I went home, and Elle was there. And then she- She said I was cold…”
Annabelle cried and cried for what felt like forever, until she felt a hard, boney hand land on her shoulder. “I... I don't remember anything else!” She bawled through her tears.
When she looked up, a long moment after, Jasper had already let go of her. He was simply observing, waiting as the others. The blue haired lady had an arm extended towards her, a beautifully laced handkerchief in her hand. Annabelle sniffled, suddenly a bit embarrassed, but… as she reached out to get the small fabric… She realized with dawning horror that her hand was covered in vibrant red blood. Her eyes widened in shock, and grew even wider as she looked down and realized the blood was not only in her hands but also her shirt and lap, too.
“Oh- Oh my god! My god!” She shrieked, terrified as she reached for her face and confirmed that indeed, the blood was coming - despite not feeling any pain or wound that could produce that much bleeding - out of her eyes. “What is-- what is happening?!”
“No, no. Don’t worry, shh.” Jasper hurriedly cooed, his hand awkwardly going back on her shoulder when her arms started shivering all over again. “That… That happens.”
“It’s ok. You're ok. Here, use this.” The lady urged the handkerchief further towards her, gently.
Annabelle felt dazed though as the warm, inebriating scent of her horrifying blood tears invaded her nostrils, reminding her of the unfinished business she had left behind a couple minutes before now… She was famished. Without even thinking, she was sniffing her bloodsoaked hands and licking them clean, sighing in relief as the familiar taste got back into her.
“... Or that.” The lady and Jasper chuckled in surprise.
“Now, look. I guess… in the most basic way I can put this…" Jasper started once she was done, slowly and carefully, clearing his throat. Annabelle awkwardly got the woman's handkerchief with a mumbled thank you, and started cleaning up her face and shirt. “...You're dead."
She stared at him vacantly, handkerchief still in hand hovering over her cheek. Annabelle frowned for barely a second, but the expression faded as quickly as it appeared… be it for shock, or maybe because, deep down… she knew it was true. She could feel it. Even though she had been trying very hard to ignore it.
When she didn't cry, screamed or reacted further, he continued.
“You died. That's why you're cold, that's why she felt you being cold." He explained. “It's also why you're crying blood right now, because there are no other fluids left in your body."
They all gave her a moment, still quiet, before Mr. Temple now took over with a stern and understanding tone. “What we are, what all of us are, is hunger." He sighed.
“Yeah."
“Sweetheart. As a grown ass woman you need to cry us a river, build a bridge, and get over it now." The lady advised with equally serious eyes, but again no judgement or arrogance. “Otherwise you'll have to face the baron like this. You don't want to do that."
Mr. Temple sighed through a nod, and a tight apologetic smile. “This is not a safe place."
“Five minutes to the baron, sir." Ib warned from the driver seat.
Annabelle stiffened, but the numbness of having cried out the emotional flood she had been holding back all that week helped her feel less defensive to all their warnings. She sniffled the last of her tears out, took in a deep breath and nodded.
“Yeah. Okay." She muttered, wiping the last of the blood around her and then awkwardly giving the laced handkerchief back. “Uh… thanks."
“For what it's worth, I personally think we're the essence of humanity.” Mr. Temple smiled with pride, his eyes shining as he spoke. Beside Annabelle, Jasper rolled his eyes and groaned. “We're the essence of the passion--”
“Oh, this again.” the pale man sighed, looking out the window.
“And the strength and the beauty and the power that makes humans, humans. Personally.”
“Sure. Yeah. That's the way--”
They spoke one over the other, Mr. Temple ignored Jasper’s mockery completely through his passionate declamation. Especially after the last few minutes though, Annabelle couldn’t believe so. But then again, coming from someone like Victor Temple, she supposed she should’ve expected as much.
“Let me ask you something.” Annabelle starts, gathering her thoughts. They all turn their eyes back to her, expectant.“Do you- Do you kill people?”
Mr. Temple smiles softly. “Did we kill that boy in his apartment?”
“...No.” Annabelle agrees, thoughtful. Peeking at the woman she shook her head with an indifferent expression, then turned to Jasper with an odd look. Annabelle turned as well to him, wary. He stared at her for a long, silent moment, before deciding himself.
“I'm going to say... No. I don't. I don’t kill people.” he mutters, though the cryptic expression in his eyes weights uneasily over that answer. “Doesn’t mean others of us don’t.”
Annabelle looked down at her hands, thoughtfully. She nodded in acknowledgement, but then Jasper patted her arm again and she turned to him.
“Look. You, from what you told us, your sire was nicer than mine. He left you something to eat. Mine didn't. So, again, bonus.” He explained as some sort of comfort, she knew, but the notion made her stomach twist with disgust.
Then again… To be even more lost than she currently was, through something this terrifying… Annabelle couldn’t even imagine just how terrifying it must have been. Especially if his looks had indeed changed from a regular person into his current one also through it, instead of just his… diet.
“But you can go your whole life - or well, unlife - without killing a single person. If you're good at it. But you will have to live with always being hungry.” He looked her in the eyes as he spoke, and for once, that notion gave her some hope. She could live with anger, hunger, a life with no sunlight… But, if she HAD to kill… Annabelle wasn’t sure she could really stomach that kind of existence. It wouldn’t be worth it. “The only way to not be hungry, at least for a little while, is to kill somebody. It's the only time you're not hungry.”
“The final, final beat of the heart.” Mr. Temple nodded, somber. And again, there it was - that raw, apologetic look that didn’t fit the unfair, heartless image Annabelle had of him. “It’s the only thing that fills us for long.”
“We're there, sir.” The driver announces. “Shall I park?”
“Yes, please.” Mr. Temple nods to her, then turns back to Annabelle. “So let me tell you the basics as quickly as possible. We have our own government. We have our own rulers. The person we're going to meet is the person that rules this area of Los Angeles. Be as respectful as possible because if you offend them you will die and we cannot stop it.”
“How am I supposed to know what offends them?”
Jasper shrugged. “Just be polite.”
“Just keep your mouth shut.” The blue haired woman scoffed in contrast, putting back her big fancy glasses.
“Yeah.” Mr. Temple nodded. “Talk to them like they're a loaded weapon... Because they are.”
“And just, if they ask you a question: answer it, but don't talk back to them.” Jasper paraphrased with emphasis, cautiously. Annabelle nodded, focused. “Just let them do the talking.”
“Yes. Short as possible. Yes and no. Respect.”
“Don't look them in the eye.” The lady added.
“Respect.” Mr. Temple repeated.
“Okay.” Annabelle nodded and breathed deep, taking it in. “Respect. Don't look them in the eye.”
“You might want to do a little bit of a bow, as well, when you see them.” The lady mimicked an old fashioned theater greeting.
Annabelle’s eyes rolled in annoyance. What was this, the middle ages?
“Are you serious?” she scoffed.
Mr. Temple immediately perched up from his seat, pointing at her.
“Just- Just- That! Don't do that!” He demanded with a glare. “Don't do that! Follow our leads.”
Annabelle held her face and did her best to swallow down her annoyance with the ridiculous ammount of pomp and bulshit this was starting to pile up to, but nodded regardless. This was a new species, a new type of environment… It was weird to think of an entire type of government existing beyond the known world, but then again, it kinda made sense in a Harry Potter-ish kinda way. Plus, there was no use arguing further with these people about something she didn’t really know of anyway... For now, at least.
“Okay. Alright. Okay. Okay.”
“She's going to die.” Jasper laughed to himself wickedly, facepalming.
Mr. Temple groaned with a knowing look and a nod to him, chuckling too.
“She's so going to die and I'm not-” he started through an exasperated, amused laugh, but then cleared his throat and let out a long sigh. “Okay, no, Mark's not going to forgive me if you die. That's- I want you to know I'm vouching for you for the sake of my son. He’s told me good things about you.” Mr. Temple pointed again at Annabelle meaningfully, and she bit her lip with a soft warmth filling her to the notion that Mark, despite his relationship with this man, had talked of her to him. “Please do not get yourself killed.”
“Did you tell me you had a kid, by the way?” Jasper jumped forward with a deep frown, pointing at Mr. Temple.
He glared down at the pale man with an outraged, annoyed look.
“No!”
“Okay.” Jasper sat back, still frowning but more relieved. “At least I didn't just forget it.”
“Oh, wow.” Annabelle couldn’t help but laugh as Mr. Temple sighed in exasperation at the fact being brought up again. “I guess you guys keep secrets.”
Then the car halted with a loud break sound against a busy sidewalk. Immediately, all of them tensed up and exchanged a restless look. “Okay. Right. Yes, we're ready. We're ready.” Mr. Temple repeated as a mantra as he groaned and tried schooling his frustration back down inside him, almost more to himself than them, then turned to Annabelle again. “Respect.”
“Yeah.”
“Head down.” the lady pointed. “And bow.”
“Okay. Uh-huh.” Annabelle sighed, nerves kicking back in all over again.
Jasper chuckled, pulling his hoodie’s hood back up. Then, one by one, they all left the SUV down into the busy streets right next to the big, fancy Hollywood and Highland.