It's the story of my life. Once again, I woke up in a strange place. I would like to say that there were strange people around me, but I was alone…
In the pitch black…
I couldn't hear anything, I couldn't see anything and all I could feel was my precious ribbon threading itself through my neck, sewing my cut back together.
But, believe it or not, those were not my biggest issues with the whole situation, my biggest issue arose when I reached my hand up and came into contact with a hard, fabric-lined lid, centimeters from my face.
I don't know if you have ever been put in a coffin, but it is not the most… comfortable… thing in the world.
Trust me when I said that neither Vlad nor none of his army had ever slept in one of these things voluntarily.
Now there is a little-known piece of history where so many people were being buried alive, thanks to them being mistaken for dead, that a rope at the end of a bell was tied to a finger. That way, if anyone woke up buried, they could ring this bell and have someone come to save them.
It's how the expression 'saved by the bell' came about.
I wiggled my fingers, hoping that I might have a bell attached to one of them, but to my utter disappointment, not a single sound rang.
Guess I was stuck here for a while.
Now, if you are wondering why I wasn't absolutely freaking out in this situation, it's because my brain goes to weird places; like thinking about the expression 'saved by the bell'. I could say even weirder facts, like how ducks have corkscrew *cough*, or that rats and mice can survive being thrown out of a five-story building and swim nonstop for over a kilometer, but I thought that would be a bit strange.
I just wanted it known that as much as my head was sewed on straight, how I dealt with issues that terrify me was… well… weird.
Did I mention that I am claustrophobic and, besides being in a large body of water, my second greatest fear is being buried alive?
It really was not one of those things that you ever got over, no matter how many times it happened.
But, I digress, stupid brain.
I took a deep breath and felt around the coffin. Maybe I should thank them for spending the money and getting me a nice one… but the problem with these ones was that they are so heavy and thick that I have no way to get out of it.
Once again, the story of my life.
I moved my fingers down the side of my body and into my pockets. I gave myself a 50/50 chance of having my cell phone in it. I did not put much stalk into the intelligence of the wolves, no matter what their form.
Apparently, these ones had more brains than I gave them credit for. No cell.
I could tell that my stress levels were raising as my ribbons were rubbing themselves around me, trying to offer me comfort.
'Van Helsing,' I thought to myself. 'If there is any chance, in any way, that you can read my mind, could you find me?'
I guess having a Van Helsing dagger wouldn't really help if there was no one to stab… or if you were taken by surprise… or… well, a lot of things.
I closed my eyes again, knowing that there was no point in having them open. I could see the same amount either way.
"Viktor," I whispered out loud. "Now would be a good time to be a knight in shining armor."
But in the end, I was going to have to figure this all out on my own. Again…
Now, how did I do that?
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It was 7 pm and Viktor turned to his computer and the video feed on it. He was expecting the Little Cub to return to his house, but as it got later and later, he began to think that maybe, she wouldn't be there when he got home.
He froze at the thought.
Was he upset that she wouldn't be there when he got home? Was he not happy to have his house back to himself?
He hated people in his territory, of course, he was happier this way.
Sasha stood in the corner of his office, waiting like the good sentry he was, his face blank.
Viktor's attention went back to the papers in front of him. He was working on a sale worth billions of dollars to supply weapons to an overseas government.
What they were using it for was none of his concern.
As he stared at the details, not thinking of Nads, he felt a small brush against the back of his neck. He calmly readjusted his collar, knowing that his shirt would not have anything attached to it. And it was too high of a quality for it to be fraying.
The movement stopped and Viktor went back to his work.
A few seconds later, there was another brush.
Getting upset, he called Sasha over.
"Whatever is sticking out from the collar of my shirt, get rid of it," he grumbled, annoyed that he would even have to ask his Beta to do something like that.
Sasha came over, peered at his Boss' collar, and saw a tiny black thread poking out of an otherwise meticulous shirt.
"A string has come loose," he said, not sure how he was supposed to get rid of it. He was pretty sure that putting a sharp object, be it scissors or a knife, near Van Helsings' neck was a good way of dying.
Viktor simply handed him a pair of scissors and within a second, Sasha had removed the offending thread.
As he held this thing, ready to put it in the garbage, the thread started to wriggle as if it were alive.
Sasha yelped and dropped it on Viktor's desk.
Surprised at what was going on behind him, Viktor looked at Sasha.
"The frigging thing is alive," the Beta said, trying to get some sense of authority into his voice. He pointed to the thread and Viktor's eyes followed his finger to the offending piece of cloth.
The thread was alive and trying to get closer to Van Helsing. Never having seen something like this before, Viktor stared at it, wanting and needing to figure out this latest mystery.
The thread started to wiggle back and forth, part of it in the air and the other part on the desk, like it was a worm and not an inanimate object. It seemed to be trying to get Viktor's attention.
Viktor shook his head at the thought. There was no way that a string would try to get his attention. But, on the flip side, there would be no way a string could move on its own without wind.
Waving a few more times, the thread pointed to the door. Then it went back to waving and then pointing again.
This mystery was starting to give Viktor a tick and his left eye started to twitch. There was nothing that he hated more than a mystery.
He placed the thread in his hand and it seemed to give him a hug in thanks. Then it pointed back to the door again.
Getting up from behind his desk, Viktor followed the directions of the possessed string.
"Sir?" Asked Sasha confused.
"Apparently, we are going on a hunt. Inform the Knights," came the reply as Viktor exited the office and continued to follow the thread.
Where on earth was it trying to take him?