Chapter 3
Brittany sat at her kitchen counter, fiddling absentmindedly with Lord Tubbington, her large, fluffy cat. The apartment was quiet, the usual hum of her online show, Fondue for Two, just a backdrop to her calm afternoon routine. But something felt... different. There was a pull, something she couldn’t explain, like an invisible thread tugging at her chest.
She frowned, pausing as she gave Lord Tubbington a gentle scratch behind the ears. The feeling was almost like a whisper in her mind, soft at first, but growing clearer with every second.
Go to New Orleans.
It wasn’t her thought, not exactly. It wasn’t an idea that had formed organically in her mind. It was more like a directive, something that had simply arrived without warning. Brittany didn’t know why or how, but she knew she had to go. There was an urgency behind it, a need she couldn’t ignore.
Confused but not panicked, she grabbed her phone, distractedly glancing at the screen. It buzzed in her hand.
It was a text from Sam, one of the glee club members from school.
"Hey, B, you still good for this weekend?" Sam’s message read, followed by, "I’ll be looking after Lord Tubbington, right?"
Brittany stared at the message for a moment, before her fingers began to type.
“Out of town,” she sent back without much thought, her mind still caught on the pull toward New Orleans. “I’ll be gone for a little while. Can you take care of Lord Tubbington?”
She hit send, before blinking as if the reality of her words just hit her. Out of town? She wasn’t even sure why she felt that way, but it didn’t feel wrong.
Sam replied almost immediately. “Uh, out of town? You don’t usually just go places without any notice. You good?”
Brittany didn’t hesitate. Something in her told her that this was the right choice. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll be in New Orleans. Just look after the cat. I’ll be back soon.”
Sam’s reply was hesitant, like he knew something was off but wasn’t going to press her further. “Okay, okay. Just be safe, alright?”
Brittany let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and with that, she was already heading toward her room to pack. Her mind was still cloudy with the strange feeling, but it wasn’t something that scared her. If anything, it felt like she was being drawn somewhere she was supposed to be, like an adventure waiting for her.
She quickly gathered a few things; some clothes, toiletries, and her favorite scarf, a bright red one she always wore. As she zipped up her bag, she paused, glancing at Lord Tubbington, who had sprawled himself out lazily on the couch.
“I’m going,” she whispered to the cat, as if it needed to be said aloud to make it real. “I’ll be back soon. You’ll be in good hands with Sam.”
Lord Tubbington meowed in response, as if understanding. Brittany smiled and walked out of the apartment, knowing that something big was waiting for her in New Orleans, though she had no idea what it was. She only knew she had to go.
Santana stood in her New York apartment, her arms crossed as she gazed out the window, watching the cars drive by and the occasional pedestrian hurry along the sidewalk. It was a typical afternoon, but for her, everything felt anything but typical.
Since the breakup with Brittany, Santana had found herself in a constant state of unease. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the whole thing; the love they’d shared, the sudden end to it. But more than that, there was the new reality she had to contend with.
Her transformation into a vampire.
It had happened so fast, so unexpectedly. One night, she was out with friends, just being Santana, and the next, she was bitten by a cute guy with abs for days and stabbed. When she awoke, there was a dead girl in front of her. Bloodlust had just overcome her as she sunk her teeth into the body, and suddenly she turned into something she never thought she’d be. A vampire. She still wasn’t used to it. The strange cravings for blood, the heightened senses, and most of all, the fact that she could never walk into the sun again without the daylight ring he had given her.
The idea of being a vampire was... complicated. Santana wasn’t disgusted by it; she didn’t hate it. But it was hard to adjust. She still lived with Kurt and Rachel, who had no idea about her new... condition. They still thought she was the same old Santana, the cheerleader with a sharp tongue and a sassy attitude, but deep down, everything had changed. And she was beginning to realise that she wasn’t the same person anymore.
Santana sighed and ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the windowsill. It wasn’t like she could talk to Kurt and Rachel about this. They’d never understand, and she didn’t want to burden them with her struggles.
Then, her phone buzzed.
She grabbed it quickly, glancing at the screen. There was a message. It was odd, simple even, but it made her pause.
It was from an unknown number.
Come to New Orleans.
Santana furrowed her brow, reading the message again. That was it. Just those words. She couldn’t explain it, but something about it seemed to reach deep inside of her. It was like the feeling she had when she first realized she was a vampire. Like a sudden shift in reality.
She didn’t know who had sent it or why, but she couldn’t ignore it. Something was pulling at her, urging her to go.
She stared at the screen, chewing on her lip for a moment. She was in no rush to deal with her new life, but maybe New Orleans was the change she needed. Maybe getting away from her life in New York, away from the same old routine and the people who didn’t know what she was, was exactly what she needed.
After all, New Orleans had been rumored to be crawling with vampires. If she was going to figure out how to live with this new version of herself, maybe someone down there could help her.
With a sigh, Santana pocketed her phone and grabbed her jacket. Screw it. Maybe a change of environment would do her some good.
She didn’t have much else to lose anyway.
As she grabbed a few things; her wallet, a change of clothes, and her ever-present daylight ring, she couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of anticipation. Maybe New Orleans would offer her the answers she didn’t even know she was searching for.
With a final glance around her apartment, Santana left. She didn’t know what awaited her, but she knew one thing for sure: she had to go.
And maybe, just maybe, this would be the start of something new.