Warning: Somewhat violent chapter ahead. May be pleasant to certain viewers... in a way… (;

Thanks to: The Vampire Avatar, Darth Vyper, the a person, timeandcirque, BeautifulNoMatterWhat, and Kberry for reviewing last chapter :D


Chapter Two:

"It Cannot be Seen"

"DARREN! DARREN! WAKE UP!" a voice said, shoving my shoulder roughly.

I shot up in my hammock and rubbed my eyes. Debbie Hemlock was standing over me, looking worried and slightly scared.

"Was I screaming again?" I asked with a yawn.

"No… you were laughing," she said nervously, still staring at me. "I thought you were going insane…"

That woke me up. I got out of my hammock and stretched. Somehow I knew it was still night time… but I wasn't sure of the exact time…

"I had come to see if you were hungry –You were asleep for a few hours, and I know that hospital food couldn't have been any good," she said, giving me a very forced-looking smile.

I nodded and followed her out of the tent. Something was up with Debbie, and I was going to find out. We ate breakfast in silence, until Evra joined us.

"I just met with a few of the older cirque members, to discuss who should run it now, since Hibernus died…"

"Did you decide on someone," I inquired curiously.

"Well, we couldn't decide on just one person, so we divided it up between some of the oldest members," said Evra. "Truska, Hans, Cormac, and I are now the unofficial owners of the Cirque."

"It'll be weird…" I commented. "The Cirque without Mr. Tall –I can't imagine it."

"Neither can I," Evra admitted, "but we'll pull it together somehow."

"I guess…"

He left, sensing my solemn mood. I noticed Debbie had left too. Strange… I'd have to confront her after I made a quick trip to Truska's van. I left my half eaten meal and walked across the campgrounds to Truska's tent. Hoping that she was still awake, I knocked on the door.

"Darren?" said Truska as she opened the door. "Do they need me in Hibernus'–"

"No," I interrupted. "I came to see if you had any clothes for me. The ones I have now are a little tight…"

"Oh yes," she said in her strange accent. "I think I have just the thing."

I followed her into her van, glancing around. There were strange novelties around the room, some which looked like they were taken from a shipwreck –they were water worn and weathered with age. She led me to the back where she sat me on a stool.

"When you went through you first purge early, I decided to make these for you," she explained. "I know much of the vampire ways. So when you reached your first purge, I knew the second had to follow soon. I was going to make you an outfit like your mentors… But something made my mind change tracks. "

She told me to strip down and close my eyes. I did as she said and tried not to peek as she dressed me. She gave my hair a quick trim, evening it out a bit.

"You can look now," she said softly.

I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror. My new outfit seemed to be a sort of battle suit. It felt heavy –not uncomfortably heavy– and looked tough. It was a gleaming black, with red accents here and there. I tried to identify the material it was made of, but I couldn't tell. What caught my eye was the blood red cape flowing behind me. It reminded me of Mr. Crepsley's cloak in color and style, but the material was thicker, more durable.

"Wow," I said, admiring my changed appearance. "This is even better than the pirate costume. I don't know what to say…"

"You are welcome," Truska said, smiling. "Something told me you would need something sturdy. You look so grown up now."

"Tell me about it," I replied, stepping closer to the mirror.

I took in the changes to my features. I was tall, nearly as tall as Mr. Crepsley had been. My jaw and face had hardened, and rough stubble was growing on my chin. But what surprised me the most were my eyes. They didn't look empty, like the last time I visited Truska, but they looked aged. Like I had lived a hundred years in the past two days.

"Your eyes remind me of man I once met," Truska stated. "He too lived through war. Many of them. His name was Larten. Larten Crepsley."

I looked at her and an understanding passed between us. We'll have to spare her when the world burns… said the growing voice in the back of my head. I shook my head and smiled.

"Thank you Truska," I said. "But I've got to go see Debbie."

"Darren…"

"Yes?"

"Your eyes… they…" Truska said softly.

"They what?" I asked.

"Nothing…"


Debbie and Alice were staying in Gertha Teeth's old van so that they could help with the injured people from the fight. I walked silently through the camp, enjoying the feeling of new strength that was running through my muscles. I reached their van and knocked quietly. Alice answered the door, watching me wearily.

"Hello Darren. Did you need something?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Can I talk to Debbie for a bit? I need to ask her something…"

"Um…" Alice said nervously. "Hold on a second. She might not be dressed."

"Alright," I said.

Something was definitely up.

"Hey Darren," Debbie said, walking down the stairs of the van. "Alice said you needed somethi–"

She froze at the last step, her eyes widening, sentence trailing. Then she immediately changed her expression into a smile. My eyes narrowed.

"Yeah," I said suspiciously. "I wanted to ask you a few questions."

"Alright," she said shakily.


We sat down on the couch that was in my tent. I noticed that Debbie was deliberately not touching me.

"So," I began, startling her. "The other night you said that when I was done with the purge… that I would be a man… and that –well um, you wouldn't feel so weird –about being with me."

"That wasn't a question," she pointed out. "But yeah… I did say that."

"Why do I feel like you don't mean that anymore?"

She sighed.

"I just –I just don't know anymore, Darren. I feel like we're too different… like everything has changed."

"That's not everything," I said, feeling anger and loneliness grow in the pit of my stomach. "This morning and just a few minutes ago –outside the van– you looked at me funny. You seemed scared…"

She looked nervous, like she hadn't expected me to bring that up.

"Well, to be honest, you do scare me sometimes. The other day, I really thought you were going to kill Darius… You looked so –so... frightening. I really thought you were going to kill him, Darren. And I won't pretend I'm okay with that."

"You were fine later on, at my –at Annie's house," I said, noticing that she wasn't looking at me still. "There's something else... Something you're not telling me…"

"Well," she said, turning to meet my gaze. "This morning when I woke you up, your eyes were red. And in front of the van too. It's really unnerving Darren. And I don't even want to think of what it could possibly mean..."

"My eyes turned red?" I asked casually, as if we were discussing the weather. "You think I'm scary because my eyes turned red? You won't date me because my eyes turned red? Do you think I can help it? It's not my bloody fault they do that!"

My voice had risen as our conversation grew, and Debbie shrunk back with fear. I could see my reflection in her dilated pupils. My eyes were glowing with a deep crimson, pupils almost non-existent. I was grinning now. My smile seemed almost too sharp, glinting in the weak light of the tent.

"Darren you're scaring me," Debbie said with wide, petrified eyes. "Listen… I can't do this anymore.. I've got to go."

"No. You listen," I growled. "I've been waiting for you. Waiting so long. You wouldn't date be because of my appearance two years ago, and you won't date me for my appearance now? And better yet, for my eye color?"

And then she hit me. The force from her slap sent my head reeling to the side.

"I don't know what's gotten into you Darren," she said softly, tears streaming down her face. "But you're not the Darren I met fifteen years ago. I can't see you anymore…"

She tried to leave, but I moved in front of the door, stopping her. She tried to push me away, but a human female's strength is nowhere near the range of a full grown vampire's.

"Darren… Move.. Please move," she pleaded. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" I chuckled.

She looked at me with tear filled eyes and seemed to make a decision. She opened her mouth wide, with the intention of screaming. I covered her mouth with a hand, successfully muffling her scream.

"Shh.." I said in a mock whisper. "You'll wake the neighbors."

She bit down on my hand. I hissed and threw her to the floor. I looked at my injured hand. Only a small trickle of blood came out. I licked the wound, testing out one of my new abilities. I smiled when it healed and turned back to Debbie. She was holding a knife in her hand.

"Are you going to stab me, Debbie?" I asked.

"Only if you don't let me leave."

"Ya know," I said thoughtfully. "The warrior woman thing was kinda cute to begin with, but now you're taking it way to seriously."

"Darren. Let me out."

"No," I said bluntly. "I wasn't finished talking to you. I decide when you leave."

She made a move to scream again. I stopped her this time by holding her jaw closed, so she couldn't bite me. But I had forgotten about the knife. But I definitely remembered it when I felt it go deep into my arm. It hurt –a lot– but not nearly as much as getting an arrow in your chest. Mostly it just pissed me off.

"Did you just stab me?" I whispered.

She was struggling against my grasp on her face. My grip had tightened when the knife hit me (out of shock) and my nails broke through her skin. I froze when I saw the blood running down my hand. Debbie stopped struggling and looked at me. Her expression became horrified when she saw what had stopped me. I removed my hand (the one without a knife in its arm) and licked the liquid off of my fingers. It tasted wonderful. Warm and so full of fear…

"Darren… you can't do this… this isn't like you, Darren," Debbie protested.

"You just stabbed me," I pointed out, still focused on the blood on her face.

She whimpered and closed her eyes. I glanced at her beautiful face, and for once didn't feel love. Anger and resentment poured out of me. One of the few people I had left had turned on me. Hurt me. And I couldn't stand to look at her anymore.

"Get out of here before I kill you," I said, shoving her away. "If I find out you told anybody about this…"

I left my sentence hanging. She began to leave the room, but I remembered something important.

"Wait."

She turned around, looking hopeful. I grabbed her face and licked her wounds, healing them.

"Get out."

I paced around my tent, muttering angrily. The knife, still imbedded in my skin, was keeping me from bleeding. When I pulled it out, a torrent of blood was sure to come with it. The wound was deep, nearly nicking my bone, and wouldn't heal easily. I didn't want to ask for help; that would bring up too many questions.

Instead, I pulled out a first aid kit from my bag and managed to take out the equipment for stitching. I stuck a cloth in my mouth and braced myself for the pain I was about to experience. I pulled the blade out and screamed as quietly as I could into the folded cloth. I acted fast and put some gauze, covered in peroxide, over the wound. I screamed louder as the cleansing fluid burned into my wound. After a minute I removed the cloth and replaced it with a new one. I repeated this action –applying pressure onto the wound as well– until I noticed that the bleeding had stemmed into a lesser flow. I used a pre-threaded needle to stitch the gash.

I didn't have much experience in the medical area, but I knew my stitch work left a lot to be desired. I would now have a wide, jagged scar along my upper arm. I rubbed a bit of saliva on the wound and watched it heal a bit.

After a minute I grew bored and went to relax in my hammock. But when I sat on it, a loud crinkle caught my attention. I stood back up and reached under my blanket. I pulled out a slightly crumpled envelope.

Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to open it. A short message was written on it, printed on a piece of elegant parchment.


Ever feel like visiting an old friend?

-Des


Underneath the message an address was written. Along with a name.

Alan Morris.

Poor Darren. Every time he finally seems to find love, he loses it. So… can anyone guess what lay at Alan's?