Claire had been awake for an hour, lounging in her bed in a blissful state. Life was carrying on in Morganville; the calm seas after the catastrophe. The town was rebuilding itself; structurally, at least. Claire wondered if the same went for its residents.
Four people had disappeared over that course of the past week, and the vampires were always lurking in the shadows; contracts and restrictions of the peculiarities of the town seemingly nullified. Amelie looked over the reconstruction of the dismal decay the town had undergone, Oliver lurking close by her, keen on raising the vampire species alone. She no longer saw to the people, and the plans of the future town suddenly became a mystery unbeknownst to its occupants. Even Claire, the one who had before been so involved in the towns' secrets, seemed obsolete.
Even after the trauma of the draug, the citizens of Morganville did the only thing they could; wait and endure. Claire could not recall ever having to go through such an anxious stagnation, and her mind rebelled, finding jobs around the house.
Yesterday, she had cleaned the whole house, head to toe.
The day before, she and her roommates had given the house a new coat of pale yellow paint.
And today would pass just the same, slow and tranquil, but so overly covert. Claire thought of Myrnin, all the while. He hadn't called her, and she eventually gave up trying to reach him. She stopped asking Oliver where he was, and she stopped studying the work they had been fervently captured in the time they had worked together.
Have been working together, Claire silently corrected herself. He was there in the lab she could no longer bring herself to enter, hiding from the town. So why did she talk about him like he was dead?
Because she missed him. Her very insides yearned to be taught by him, the intriguing vampire that had so often betrayed her trust. She was constantly pulled towards him, bound in a gravity she had never before let herself know existed.
She didn't love him. He was far too complicated for her to simply comply romantic feelings with, and she knew she never would truly understand him, as hard as she had tried. His absence had created an unexpected void, lowering down on her until she couldn't go a second without wishing to hear his voice, just once.
And yet, after all that, she couldn't hate him. He had vanished from sight, and taken her worries with him. He had ceased to exist in Morganville, lurking in the dark crevices of the town that Claire had feared in times like these. Myrnin was far beyond her reach, no matter what resources Claire could use to find him. The town had shut the humans out, hiding its secrets once again in times of utter confusion.
She sat up in her room, one that no longer felt familiar to her. The house had changed in more ways than Claire cared to dive into, but it was something to do with Miranda, the newly-bestowed phantom of the Glass house. Combing fingers through her hair, Claire pulled herself out of the tangle of her sheets, stepping into the jeans she had worn yesterday. Rounding to face the mirror, she saw how… old she looked. Morganville had aged her, crept into her youth and terrorized her into growing up. The town, in all truth, had changed Claire Danvers in more ways she could ever know.
Halfway down the stairs, she was met with the vibrant aroma of breakfast. Eve seemed to be trying to brighten up the run-down house with new foods, and it almost worked. Almost.
She heard the voices of her friends just down the hall in the kitchen, joking about the scrambled eggs and laughing half-heartedly. Just steps before she turned into the dining room, Miranda materialized from thin air in front of her, and Claire gasped with a sharp intake of surprise.
"God, Miranda! Don't do that! Ever!" She was upset by how unstable she sounded, and the smug look visible on the ghost's face as she became more and more solid. She had more color in her non-existent flesh, Claire realized; she seemed livelier in death than she had in life. Almost… more pleasant.
Miranda gave a small, not quite apologetic smile. "I just had to tell you not to try and run from him. It never works, you know. It will always either be his fondness for you," she paused, concern pulling at her mouth, "or his sickness. But don't try to run."
Claire could feel her forehead crease in questioning frustration, and she hardly had time to open her mouth before Miranda was gone, like a strand of dust in the morning breeze.
And then she felt it. The pull from the wall behind her, energy flowing through the whole house. The walls gave a shudder that seemed to bring them back to life, and Claire couldn't even manage a scream before the portal grabbed her and dragged her through the dark.
….
One moment, she was being pulled through the dark abyss, and the next she was face down on the cold floor of the lab, pinned by a stiff, unbreakable grasp on her shoulders. She froze, feeling a cold breath on the back of her neck, two pinpricks poised lightly but threateningly on her trembling skin. It took a moment to manage a small, trembling voice.
"Myrnin?"
The world was a blur again, as she was turned over so quickly she didn't have time to catch her breath. She gave a pained gasp as her back was slammed against a lab table, the crazed, tinted eyes of Myrnin looking brazenly into hers. He backed away a bit when he recognized her, concern teeming his somber face.
"My dear child. You should have known better than to come here."
"I don't-"
He rounded on her suddenly, knocking her down with one lunge and delivering a swift blow into her ribs. Black splotches ate away at Claire's vision as she struggled to scream, but his cold hands were clamped over her throat.
Playing with his food.
She struggled for air, coming down unsuccessful. She realized how very torn and desperate he looked, and how very heart broken, as her eyes drifted shut and her head hit the hard floor, confusion colliding with the black void.
