… Kylian's abode …
With his red enhanced eyes activated, Heald walked down the basement.
He had searched the entire building but he found nothing. The library, the rooms. He found nothing useful.
Cocoon draped around the corners and the ceilings. The darkness was so thick that with his enhanced vision, he could barely see a meter around him.
He scaled the stairs.
He sighed as his feet touched the floor of the basement.
His eyes wandered around. Stale air. Cold walls. A dusty table and a walnut wood chair. On the walls were maps, routes dotted and lined on it.
Then on the floor were old and rusty iron boxes.
His jaws clenched then he moved to continue his search.
The lock fell. The metal cover removed. Then his hands ransacked the boxes.
Just tools. Cartography tools. Tools of a tentmaker. Tools of a sketcher. Tools of a survivor. Nothing more.
Heald grew agitated.
Will all this search go for nothing? Never.
He gritted his dentition hard. His eyes flashed with resilience as he thrust his hands into the boxes, continuing his search.
His hand touched something big. He stopped. His eyes moved there. The thing is deep under the tools.
He dipped his hand deep and pulled it out.
His eyes dilated.
It's the old diary Kylian scribbles on almost every time in his library.
Finding this diary might be his breakthrough.
He subconsciously clenched his hands on the diary.
****************
Hours later.
Shadows casted as the sun went below buildings.
The busy highway was all filled with cops. And the street roads complained of the constant cops vehicles that patrolled.
Heald made his way passing the glowing billboard of the bar.
His face was down as he went. His cloak was nowhere to be found. His visible shoulders were slumped.
He slipped into a stool before the bartender.
The bar had resumed. The things that happened days ago are now history.
Dan was declared missing along with the rest of the others that were bitten that day. Every connection all the victims had with the bar was erased. That's the power of the sweepers. They clean up the ass of the supernaturals.
The town is restless just as the cops.
Close to fifty people are missing, yet no clue about their whereabouts was found. The petty kidnappers and gangs that the cops busted daily were the scapegoats.
Heald sighed. His friend, Kylian isn't lost, yet Heald feels like he's lost.
He found things in the diary.
Things. Many things.
He couldn't contain it. He felt compromised. He had to come to this bar to drink away part of his misery. Even though vampires don't get drunk.
"Two shots of vodka."
The tender went into work.
A body slid into the seat beside Heald.
Warm and pleasant scent of Jasmine.
He turned his head.
A ponytailed Auburn hair glared at his eyes.
His dead cold heart thudded.
He quickly looks away.
"Uncountable shots of whiskey," her pleasant voice requested.
Heald sighed. "He wouldn't want that."
"Uh?!" Her surprised gaze turned to him.
"Kylian. He wouldn't want you drunk out here without any protection." Heald found himself saying.
"I know." Her gaze turned back to the shot glass. She grabbed it and with a gulp swallowed the contents. "He's my knight after all."
Heald gave her a sidelong look.
Christa continued. "My vampire knight."
"Uh?!" Heald's eyes widened. His jaw dropped as he stated with shock.
"You know, I feel somehow fulfilled now that I'm convinced that creatures such as vampires truly exist." She breathed heavily. Her eyes were calm. "I wish they're here."
"Who?"
"Kylian. My dad. My friends who all left me because of it. And everyone else." Her head turns to Heald. "But why do they hid? Oh, sorry. You're his friend and you know who he's. Definitely, you are like him. You look almost like him. Eyes ringed with red. Body so white like a bloodless one."
Heald stared speechless.
"So tell me, why do you guys hid your existence?"
Heald lowered his gaze. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched the colorless liquid in his shot glass.
Christa waited. She took gulps after gulps of shots like they were nothing. But in her heart she awaited Heald's reply.
The reply came.
"It's because we'll be endangered if our existence is known," Heald said, his voice low and hesitant.
"Why?" Christa's brows pulled in confusion. "I know we humans are nonsensical sometimes but you guys will just live your lives like you are doing now."
"It's not that simple. The unveiling of our existence will bring nothing but destruction. Both to us and to you humans."
"But you and Kylian are good. If all others are like you, then we should all be safe." She faced him squarely.
"You shouldn't say that!" Heald slapped the counter hard. Christa flinched. "I shouldn't be having this conversation with you. I thought I compelled you?!"
Christa gazed, not knowing what to say.
"You shouldn't know this. Your knowledge about us will do you no good. It'll only bring death. You're only alive because of Kylian. So if you want to help yourself, keep your head down and speak of this no more." Heald sprang up.
Christa couldn't even say a thing as she watched Heald melt away from sight.
She gritted and turned to the tender. "More shots."
*************
Heald treaded the dark alleyways and haunting passageways. It was all empty, with a few bodies passing by momentarily.
Not humans though. Mostly supernatural beings. Bodies wrapped in cloaks and faces hidden under hoods.
A creature not confident of his strength wouldn't dare walk this area by this time of the day.
It's Heald's street. Deep in the suburbs of New York City.
Faulty streetlights. Empty roads. Well arranged yet unlit buildings. Most of the inhabitants are supernatural beings though. So it could be said that they keeps their heads down.
Heald's head was down. Numerous thoughts running through it.
A figure appeared before him as he advanced.
He didn't want to pay any attention. But when the aura from the body reached his cores, he stopped on his track.
The body was wrapped in a scarlet cloak.
The face lifted and gazed at Heald.
His eyes widened. "Young leader."
"Your day has been colorful I see." Adrian smiled, humourlessly.
"I went to have a drink." Heald lowered his head.
"Not just any drink. You seem troubled, downcasted." Adrian cocked his head.
"Yes, I'm." Heald admitted.
"Your friend, he went rogue," Adrian said as a matter of factly.
Heald's eyes widened. "How did you know?"
Adrian grinned. "I have my ways."
"He's bothered by something," Heald said.
"Like I care. I know he has a secret. You said he hasn't fed for months. You covered him that day. Then you must know something." Adrian took a step closer to Heald. Large bees with black stings appeared from thin air and hovered in front of him.
Heald moved backwards. The fear in his eyes was visible.
"Tell me something. And you'll see the light of another day," Adrian whispered, his red eyes glittering as he kept taking steps closer to Heald.
Heald took steps back. His back soon touched a wall. No where else to run.
"Please."
A bee hovered right before his eyes and the dark sting bared at his forehead. A sting goes through his head and that is the end. The poison will work faster in such a vital point.
"Tell me what I need to hear." Adrian's words sounded like a preacher's word. Believe and be saved.
Heald shivered under the poisonous sting bared at his head. A single second delay might be his end. He knew. Yet the hesitation in his eyes could be seen clearly.
Adrian's lips twitched. Anger flashed in his eyes. "Tell me something. Don't be a FOOL!"
"H- he doesn't see his fang glow. He doesn't see it. It's…. unusual, isn't it? Even he doesn't know why." Heald's body trembled as he rushed it out. "Please, spare me."
Adrian smiled wickedly, his eyes glittered with satisfaction as he said, "Good fang. That should do."
Heald haven't even blinked when Adrian's figure blurred before him together with his bees.
He fell on his butt as he cried out.
Remorse was etched in his voice as he roared with rage, into the night dark.
******************