A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the initial interest in my story. I'll admit this is going to be a slow build, but I promise it'll be well worth the ride with a little bit of everything! Mystery, crime, romance, angst! And of course some blood and gore because, come on, there's vampires and lovely, destructive Credence involved. I think he deserves a happy ending or happy start in this case. I love reviews and critiques; please indulge me.
He woke with a start that morning, and practically leaped out of the narrow bed he'd been placed on. The sun had risen, warming the left side of his fair cheek. His dark eyes darted around, recognizing nothing while his heart danced wildly in his chest. Credence took a deep breath quickly calming himself once he realized their wasn't immediate danger. His mind was in pieces as he tried to remember what happened over the last few days.
The blanket that had covered him, fell away from his body and looking down he realized he was still dressed in his own dark clothing, though now it was shredded and torn in certain spots. The pain he remembered wasn't thrumming through his being, and while stiff, he felt alright...
The subway came to mind. He remembered the feeling of the darkness caressing him. Telling him it was ok to let go, that people deserved pain. Pain that he had lived with on a daily basis for as long as he could recall. But there had also been voices, kind ones. Telling him they'd help him. Tina... The woman with the short brown bob. She'd been there when mother had... Credence shuddered as the memory of his mother came up. His fingers clenched in the downy bedding, the heavy scarring on his palm felt thick and callous in his fist, but at least that wasn't currently hurting. Mother was dead now. He let go of his control, and he drained her dry...
Credence shook his head, realized that was a bad move, and let out a stifled whimper. His head gave a throb, and he realized that while he felt better, he was far from alright. And he still didn't have a clue where he was. The man with the wavy ginger hair... He had fought for Credence. He said he would help him too... But Mr. Graves had said the same thing, and that had been a lie. Mr. Graves had just wanted to use him by letting his rage and hurt fester. That betrayal still burned in Credence's gut, but that could very well also be hunger.
He needed to figure out where he was. He might need to figure how to get out. With a little effort, he got off the small but comfortable enough bed. On his feet, he swayed; there was a tiredness that ached all the way down to his bones. It made his first few steps rather clumsy, unusual for a man who was use to gracefully moving through alleys and keeping a low profile. He shuffled to the door, trying the handle and finding relief in the fact that it wasn't locked. He wasn't trapped, and pushing the wooden door opened revealed a long hallway. Doors stood on either side, but all of them were closed. There was an eerie silence that prevailed, heavy like the blanket he pushed off himself. It was as if he were in this home alone... A home that looked like it could easily hold a large family. Credence stepped out, noting that every few feet a fist size orb of bluish-white light hung in midair.
Magic. Despite his fear and fatigue, he was instantly curious and amazed. His mother had been so sure magic was evil and wrong. That it was the devil's work and that those who practiced it were Satan's whores. But Credence was never sure he fully believed that. After all, look what lurked in him...
Making it down the hall, his hand every so often brushing the wall, Credence came to a stairwell. Still there wasn't a sound or soul about. So down he went, taking it slowly as he came to what he assumed was the first floor of the house. To his left he saw a fairly normal looking living room. A few mismatched couches, bookshelves straining with books, a massive fireplace... A very old, but well loved piano. Still no one though, and the longer he remained in silence, the more his nerves seemed to jump. He walked on, finding another hallway with more doors, but this one had a door cracked at the end of it. A sliver of light was falling through it. It was the same bluish-white light like from the floating orbs, but much more intense. If he didn't know any better he would have thought it was moonlight.
Shuffling still, he went down the hall, drawn towards the light, his curiosity sharp and analytical. Not even making it half way down the hall, the door suddenly opened wider. More light spilled through and a breeze wafted passed him. Grass, earth...Something wild caught on his nose, but he couldn't see further for a moment later a silhouette blocked his view. A girl came into view and she was quickly pulling the door closed behind her. Credence had froze, his darkly clad form holding onto the wall for a little extra support. Instantly their eyes had locked, both looking almost startled. Her eyes were a bright hazel, starring in what could be shock and a hint of fear? She had short black hair, barely long enough to tuck behind her ears. Her face was round with soft cheeks but rather sharp and high cheekbones, and he guessed she was his age or maybe a year or two younger. Her skin was a warm sepia, but Credence found himself drawing in a sharp, ragged breath. Said skin had rich crimson splotches against it. Her lips were practically wine in color. It smeared across her cheeks and down her chin. There were even splotches soaked into the plain cream colored shift she was wearing. Blood. The girl was covered in blood.
"You're up," she breathed, stating the obvious in her own shock at seeing her patient. Frankie looked over the strange man, noticing that beside looking dead on his feet, his cuts had all but healed. That had been quick. She hadn't expected him up considered she thought he was practically dead last night! He blinked at her and seemed to hunch in on himself, his features becoming clouded and fearful. And that's when Frankie covered her mouth, remembering exactly what was smeared over her. "Oh!" She bit her lip, unwittingly baring her fangs. Her tongue licked quickly, but it didn't help much. Dinner tonight had been messy and she had indulged a little.
Credence was backing up now, knowing what his eyes were seeing but not understanding. The girl was starting to come towards him, and he shook his head. "D-don't!" Credence rasped, his voice rough from lack of use and a thirst for water. It didn't stop the bloody woman as she continued to come forward. "Look I'm not going to hurt you! You just caught me at a really bad time. I didn't think you'd be up already!" Like that really explained everything; Credence just looked at her like she was mad.
"You shouldn't be up; you can barely hold yourself together. Come on, I promise you no harm, yea? You need to be sitting..." Despite the fear she could smell rolling off him, he didn't fight her as she gently took his elbow and turned him to head back down the hall. Going to the right through an archway, they entered a large kitchen. "I'm sorry I scared you, honestly," Frankie was easy on him, despite pushing him towards a old wooden chair. "I know I look a sight, but I found you last night and I forgot to eat. I didn't know if you were going to wake up, so I thought I had some time... You didn't move one bit last night. I thought you were dead at first. Frozen stiff, you were. Some of your color came back though," she rambled as she went over to large sink, which instantly started pouring water from its tap. She used it to quickly wipe her mouth off, rinsing the blood away. Credence was watching her, instantly overwhelmed and even shocked by her nervous stream of chatter. He had not expected that and confusion was starting to overtake the underlying fear. He watched the woman brush at her clothes as if that alone would get the red stains off, but to his surprise the blood on her shift faded away. He never saw magic like that. He remembered Mr. Graves had a wand and so did all those people in the subway. This girl just... Made things happen.
Frankie couldn't help the jumble of emotions going through her. Anger at herself for being so careless and forgetting she had a house guest. Surprise that he was even up on his feet and the constant biting fear that he'd be disgusting and run off. With barely a twitch of her wrist, a porcelain cup filled itself with water and started floating towards Credence in offering. He took it, dehydration more of a threat than this woman.
"What are you?" He finally blurted, still fascinated as much as he was horrified. The woman finally turned and looked at him, her almond shaped eyes locking on him. "What? You ain't never seen a vampire, mister?" Sarcasm always made things so much easier to deal with. Besides what else could she say? You can't sugarcoat stuff like that, and she saw the man sputter once he realized what she said. Any other time that might have been amusing, but at the moment she felt that annoying inkling of shame. "Vampires are real?" He raised his brows until they almost met with those god awful bangs of his.
"Just as real as... Whatever you are." She quirked a brow. Behind her, fire aggressively sprang to life in the large wood burning stove, causing the metal plate to almost pop into the air from the intensity. Being a bitten witch had its perks. Wandless magic came almost effortlessly with enough practice, but it also could get out of hand easily when emotions started to run high.
Credence's features seem to darken at the mention of his obscurus. The source of his own guilt and anger. "It's call an obscurus, but... I don't fully know what that means." Now Frankie let out a gasp, her full lips forming an 'O' as if she wanted to say something. She'd heard of those; something that was only rumored about. Something that people said didn't exist anymore. A time or two she remembered reading small blurbs about them in her books. But it made sense; his off scent, the darkness she could feel rolling off him, the way he's practically healed after being at death's door. "Witch's tit," she hissed, causing Credence to flinch and look down almost in shame. "That explains some things," she finally said, softening her gaze as he looked up. Something in him reminded her of how she once was. How she felt when she was first changed and didn't have a clue as to what was going on. It was written all over him that he had a rough life. From the hunch in his shoulders, to his lack of eye contact. Not to mention she could smell all the wordless messages he gave off.
"Listen, you got a name?" Frankie came over to him, sitting opposite him at the small table she'd put in the kitchen. "I'm Francesca, but Frankie will do," she said, keeping things informal and hopefully more comfortable, "Do you want some coffee or tea? I think I can even get you some hot chocolate if you like that?" Credence looked up, realizing the girl was offering an olive branch the best way she could. He didn't scare or disgust her like he did his mother or his siblings. He wasn't sure he could trust her, for she could be another liar like Graves, but she didn't seem to want anything. And he found that her being a vampire didn't disgust or frighten him as much as it probably should.
"Credence," he said, still unable to fully look at her as he tapped the edge of the now empty cup. Frankie gave a nod. She had a small icebox that opened and eggs along with slabs of bacon started to do a dance through the air, sailing towards a cast iron skillet that had laid itself on the hot stove. The eggs cracked themselves, bacon fell into the pan. It was simple, but no doubt would do the trick. Over the years, Frankie didn't amount to the best of cooks. While she still enjoyed food, it was rare she ate it and even rarer that she really cooked. Although she still had strong soft spot for coffee and even hot chocolate. "Um... Coffee," Credence finally said, having watching the food with more keen interest. Something in him still wanted to learn magic badly. To find a place where he belonged because he knew there was no way he could fit in with regular humans and never had. "Coffee it is, but after this I think you need a little more rest. I'm surprised you made it down all those stairs without tumbling over. I'm sorry I don't have any potions, but you've healed up wonderfully. Never felt a live person as cold as you were last night." Frankie had the urge to lean over and feel his cheek, but held off and focused on not burning anything, while also conjuring coffee through the air.
"Thank you, Miss Frankie," Credence offered quietly, watching the witchy vampire work from her seated position.
"Don't mention it; and like I said, just Frankie will do."
"Miss Goldstein, a word, please."
"Absolutely, Madame President." It had been only a matter of days since the incident down in the subway in which Credence was killed, and Gellert Gridelwald was captured by MACUSA. Since then they've managed to find the true Percival Graves who everyone hadn't even realized was missing. Luckily the auror had still been alive, stashed away in a pill box kept in the apartment that Gridelwald had taken over in his stead. Needless to say everyone was up to their eyeballs in paperwork and investigation while Graves was spending the next few days in a hospital no doubt giving the healers hell for insisting he rest and stay put.
That being said Seraphina Picquery admitted that there were some things she had been blind to. Naturally not aloud, for the woman had a country to run and would not admit weakness, but she knew she had to make some amends and restore faith in her team of aurors and staff. Starting with a Miss Porpentina Goldstein. She'd caught the woman on her way into headquarters and ushered her into the presidential office. Tina was always a bright, headstrong witch with an insistent nature that often went against popular consensus. A woman with her own mind, and Seraphina quite liked that. She should have put such power to proper use, finding the previous punishment of putting Tina on desk duty, harsh.
"Madame President?" Tina was standing by her desk, having not sat since she was not offered. Seraphina, regal and often foreboding offered a small smile and waved her hand at the chair, pulling it out in indication that Tina should sit. Seraphina took her own chair on the other side of a large, perfectly polished solid oak desk.
"Miss Goldstein, due to recent events, I've come to realize that you'd do better back among the aurors more than behind a desk processing paperwork," Seraphina said flat out, never one to beat around the bush. "That being said, I need your help with a new issue that's popping up among the no-majs." Tina found her cheeks going a bit pink, keenly aware that the president gave her as much of a compliment as she ever would. Though she didn't speak, she found herself leaning forward, very invested in what she was being told.
Seraphina continued her voice steady and all business as she reached over and pulled out a file. "There's a new drug that has found its way onto the streets and into no-majs fingers. It's being called Pixie Dust of all things." There was a hint of annoyance in her voice, the name so cartoonishly dumb and cliché. Yet it clearly was posing a great threat.
"Pixie Dust, Madame?" Even Tina had to grimace at that, and the president gave a solemn nod. "I'm afraid so. It's hardly appropriate for wizard and witches to use, but it doesn't seem to affect them as badly as it has been the no-majs. The effects while at first euphoric have been leading to seizures and more often than not a painful death characterized by green skin and... Well take a look at the pictures if you will." Seraphina waved her hand at the file she pushed Tina's way.
Opening it, Tina knew why Madame President didn't want to go into the details. Tina looked at picture after picture of no-majs dead, their skin green, their lifeless eyes open in wide shock and... "Their faces!" Tina gasped, unable to turn away from the gruesome sight. All the victims noses down to their lips seemed to have melted. Dissolved and caved in on themselves. It left their mouths gaping open with warped teeth and missing bones. Despite the stupid name, this drug was no joke.
"It's a mix of chupacabra venom and ground up cockatrice scales. I know that whoever is dealing this has also been cutting it with the no-maj drug called cocaine. We need to find who it is and shut it down. No-maj police are always asking too many questions as usual and we don't need this. So far none of the victims have been magical, but I feel it's only a matter of time before whoever is making this kills one of our own. Can you handle this, Miss Goldstein?"
"Yes, ma'am. I won't let you down on this." Tina closed the file and schooled her features back to calm even though the images of the victim would not leave her mind for a good while. The familiar burn of determination washed over her. She would no doubt get to the bottom on this. This city has already been through enough the last few weeks and now this. But in the city that never sleeps, what can you expect?