Charlotte accidentally kicked over a glass bottle in a dark alleyway when she jumped to try and get a better view of the window that was strategically positioned behind the large green dumpster that smelled strongly of an odor she couldn't put a finger on. It went along the lines of sour and bitter with no escape.
She cringed when the glass shattered into clear shards by her feet and echoed through the small cavern which in turn would draw more attention to them than their goal of being quiet like the shadows. Vincent's head swiveled over to her like an alerted cat, and she shook her head to signal that it was nothing.
Charlotte continued to check most doors to see if they were unlocked or any traces of suspicious openings whether it be a crack in the building or a small gap in the ground that may open up to something bigger like what someone might find in novels or movies. Anything was possible, and she was reminded of that daily by Vincent.
She wandered around for a while, weaving through the interconnected streets that were hidden away from sight, meticulously searching since she actually wanted to be a help to Vincent, but it was hard to do so when she didn't have the same ways of distinguishing vigilantes from other people like Vincent had.
Charlotte ended up back at the road, making a huge loop, and crossed the road, sprinting to the other side to try and switch things up. Vincent was right about how it was tedious since they have trying to trace the vigilantes whereabouts for hours now. Charlotte wasn't that naive to think that finding vigilantes was an easy task, but at that rate, it would take days.
Cars were honking in the nearby alleyway along with shouting and cursing, and she made her way over, concealed in the shadows with her arms crossed across her chest.
Vincent was still back down the other side of the street, but she made sure to know his location before turning around the corner to see what the predicament could be.
One man was out of his car knocking on the window of the car that was right behind him with his knuckles in a rhythmic tapping that fill the other person's body with dread, clutching the steering wheel for dear life. From what Charlotte could see there was no dent or any signs of collision that could have caused such an angry reaction.
The man inside the car locked his doors and was planning on making his escape, his eyes darting back and forth, but the man on the outside was causing such a ruckus and standing too close which would only end up worse if the man inside the vehicle tried to leave with the little room he had pressed tightly against the curb and another car behind.
Charlotte was about to step in and intervene since the man pointing fingers kept on saying derogatory terms that were irritating her for his unabashed rudeness when someone yanked her back into the shadows.
There was a damp cloth that came over her nose, but she ripped her head to the side to bite the aggressor in an instinctual move since her arms were pressed tightly to her body with no room to grab her weapons.
"This is it!" one of them called.
There was a muffled curse, and Charlotte elbowed him in the gut making him jerk back a few steps. She couldn't yell for Vincent when there were onlookers just a few feet away. It would cause more of a problem there. Charlotte was about to pull out the knife from her arm sleeve but was wretched back by her hair.
She cried out in pain and swung blindly with her blade, nicking the other person's cheek and spilling blood. Two people were trying to abduct or rather kill her. Charlotte sprinted off in Vincent's direction, taking the dark connecting alleyways to hide her trail, but she knew that they probably knew these streets better than she did. This was their turf after all.
Her breaths came out fast, as adrenaline poured into her bloodstream. She was going on autopilot and hoping that she wouldn't meet a dead end that most would typically find around here.
They were hot on her heels, and Charlotte wove in between wooden crates that were piled up heads taller than her to try and lose her.
"Goddamn, she's fast," one of them muttered.
"We can't lose her!" the sharp bellow sent shivers down Charlotte's spine.
"You said she was a vampire!"
"She's not. She needs to die."
"Why is she armed?"
"That's a good question to ask her when we strip her."
Charlotte came across low-hanging laundry clothing lines which were slowing her lead. It was a flurry of all-white linen sheets and random clothing items that were strung sporadically throughout.
She ripped the clothes that were hanging low in a rush and tried to swallow their disgusting words. They were definitely vigilantes speaking about vampires so candidly. They were close, she could feel their breaths.
Fear made her fingers shake uncontrollably, and she could barely manage to shove the sheets out of her away. She screamed when one of the vigilante's grabbed her cloak, but she immediately pulled at the knot at the throat. The man was pulling her cloak so strongly, he ended up taking the cloak with him and falling backward.