She could still hear his screams bouncing in the back of her skull, and images of her brother tearing into his victim remained in her mind's eye to torture her each passing day Alice spent in the 'isolation room', all because she didn't want to do it. Couldn't do it. Couldn't drink. Couldn't kill.
Ryan's choice was to do it or they'd both die. So he did. And now she was alone, and she couldn't keep count of the days or nights stuck in her cold little cell, pleading with the phantom hands that would push food through the bottom of her door every morning (or evening, she didn't know.) Telling them she'd do it this time, she'd do what they wanted, what the 'family' wanted, if they'd just let her out...let her have even the tiniest glimpse of light in the dark.
Nobody listened, nobody heard her, and not for the first time she wished she'd told that lady at the grocery store all about these monsters parading as friends to runaways, inducting them into murder and torture, for reasons she still couldn't begin to understand. They were evil...and now her brother was just like them.
"Please!" She scratched at the door, "I'll do it, please just let me out…"
She wept, then finally...saw light.
Alan and Edgar sat huddled around a piece of paper. Crosses and strings of garlic covered their room, sure the smell sucked but they'd rather be alive than dead. In front of them was a crude map of Santa Carla. A few places were already checked off in their search for the vampires that haunted the town.
"Boys," their mother swanned into the living room, carrying a string of garlic at a distance with slightly less-dazed expression than usual, "like, I don't want to harsh your vibes...but garlic with the laundry is waaaaaaay harsh," she vaguely scolded them, tossing the string of garlic to the ground. "I'm all for earth-friendly solutions, man, but, like...not cool."
They looked up at her but it was Edgar who spoke, "We're trying to save the town from the evil undead! Sacrifices must be made!"
She stared at her slightly older son for a very long and very silent moment, "Eddie...you know those brownies were for, like, your dad's headaches…" Then she seemed to take in the living room for the first time, as if she'd never seen it before, "did you redecorate?" She glanced over at the boards nailed to the living room windows. Her thoughts, ever flighty, didn't seem to linger very long.
Alan nodded, "Yeah, like it?" It was better to go along with it sometimes.
She smiled and began to hum a Grateful Dead tune, then swanned out of the room without an answer.
Ed looked over at his brother, and then back at the doorway, "probably better to barricade their room when the vamps come to get us…" he glanced back down at their notes, and then over at the rolled-up comics Sam had brought over earlier. Mom hadn't mentioned it, but they couldn't have just appeared on the couch out of thin air. "You think Sam figured it out? Wants our help?"
Alan shrugged, "I dunno, maybe, he's just...it's not fair."
They both remembered all too well the promise that crazy blonde freak had made when he caught them keeping guard on Sam's house. He wasn't going to kill them yet. He was going to 'bat them around until they stopped squeaking'...whatever the hell that even meant...then said something about head games and Ed was beginning to seriously doubt it had anything to do with Foreigner.
"...You wanna call him?" Edgar grunted, staring down at their plans and picking up a pencil to draw an extra cross in the corner. "Let's check that bikini shop, too…"
He nodded in response, "Yeah, good place to start tonight." Alan agreed softly.
Ed cleared his throat, "maybe you should do the talking…" he looked over at the phone propped up on the side of the couch, dangling from the cradle so they couldn't get any incoming calls while their dad was sleeping. "Old man might still be sore at me if he's the one who picks up first."
Alan scowled, shaking his head, "I don't wanna call, you call, just hope he doesn't answer, if he does I'll take the phone, how's that?"
"Wait…" Ed rolled up the paper, "maybe it'll be better if we talk to him at school...out in the open. In the daylight…" They'd have to be smart about it, though. Get Sam somewhere nobody could hear them talk. The bathroom could work again, but he wasn't too sure Sam would be hot on the idea after last time.
He nodded, "Yeah, I like that better. Let's just go check out the bikini store, that's better."
Half past midnight, and no sign of the sandman. So grandpa decided to get a bit of work in and down a root beer instead of trying to catch the sleep that wouldn't come. The house was about as dead and quiet as it had been before the family moved in. Plenty of time to find himself stuck in his head while he strung wired body parts in natural and unnatural poses. Plenty of time to think about Michael.
He wanted to be wrong about the boy. Hell, he'd be happy to find out he just had some kind of bug in his brain if it explained all the weird things he did when he came over, and that eerily empty look in his eyes, like he was just waiting for something nasty to happen, could very well be the cause of it in the near future, too. That wasn't a look the old man was unfamiliar with.
God, how he wanted to be wrong. He'd seen that look before, seen the calculating intelligence that all predators seemed to have, the look in their eye that said, 'I can and likely will eat you'. If Michael was something else, if something had happened, what was it? Who was responsible? He had seemed depressed, off, but now, well, a change like that didn't just happen, it was done to you.
Combine that with those boys who'd snuck into the house the other day, and he wondered if maybe there was some kind of missing puzzle piece there, or they just happened to be stumbling close to the facts without really knowing them. He also wondered if he'd even have the heart to do what needed to be done to make sure Sam and Lucy were kept safe.
He sighed, setting a piece of pliers aside and taking a gulp of root beer. Maybe he was wrong. He could be wrong. Not likely, but...well...maybe. He still hadn't really proved to himself what Michael was, vampire, or just a human boy who'd seen too much and started to crack. He hadn't been around enough for the old man to figure it out for sure.
Kinda hard to do when you know calling someone out like that could very well get you killed. After all, if Michael was one, and just playing some kinda funny game...you never knew with those things...the second he made it plain...what reason would the kid have not to eat them anymore? The game would be over. There'd be nothing left for him to find amusing.
Plus...staking your own grandson...soulless little bastard or not...that was a lot easier said than done. He would have to be very careful. He took another drink. If he wasn't, it wouldn't just be him that paid, Lucy and Sam would too.
If there was one thing about living in Santa Carla he never could stomach…
Paul stared at his joint, glaring at the smoke slowly wafting out from the end. Clearly it wasn't doing anything for his mood tonight. He glanced over at Marko as he tucked it between his lips, "you're kinda jumpy," he remarked, noticing the way the smaller vampire seemed to be unable to decide where he wanted to sit or stand. They were the first two up tonight. Dwayne went out to grab some tail. Or a meal. Probably both. He didn't tend to cope with this time of the year very well.
"Huh? I'm good." Marko's eyes darted around, looking for something, or someone.
"I think this shit is oregano…" Paul frowned, taking another pull. He wasn't feeling anything. Not even a little. "Gonna kill that guy…"
"Food sounds good, could eat, let's go eat, alright Paulie?"
He jerked up, lowering the joint and staring at Marko as if he'd just noticed him there for the first time, even though they'd just been talking, "you're already hungry?" He paused, "oooooooh, 'cause you didn't eat last night?"
"Right! I didn't eat, I'm hungry, come on, let's go."
He leered at Marko, "how bout a quick f-"
That, of course, was when Michael finally made his appearance, only slightly rumpled and looking very relaxed as he floated into the lobby and flopped down at the opposite end of the couch from Paul. David followed, not long after.
"Evening, starshine," Paul smirked, flicking his half-finished joint to the ground and glancing over at David, "you're up late." Not that they hadn't heard what happened halfway across the damn hotel the previous night.
"Mmm, was a good night." David responded, "Very relaxing."
Michael remained silent, leaning over the arm of the couch with his chin propped up on his hand, watching Marko with a subtle smirk on his face. He was planning something. Paul raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Marko as well, curious as to what was about to go down. They hadn't had a good fight in a while...that was always fun.
Marko glanced at Michael, "Good sleep, Mikey?" He was trying to be as normal as possible, not let anyone know he was a little scared.
"I slept okay," he replied coolly, letting his hand drop to the side, "how about you?" Was there a subtle threat in the question? A promise? Paul couldn't really tell...he hadn't known Michael long enough to know for certain. He glanced over at David to gauge their leader's reaction.
David raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, Marko, how'd you sleep?"
Marko rubbed the back of his neck, "Fine, fine, little hungry...was gonna go grab a bite…" He cocked his thumb towards the exit.
"Have fun with that," Michael remarked dryly, looking away from him and towards a few of the pigeons hopping about on the ground as if they were suddenly the most fascinating creatures in the world. "Maybe you'll find a bit more fun out there, huh? I know you're pretty hard up, Marko...after you made a pass at me the other night."
Marko froze and David's eyes flashed, "Oh, Marko," his voice was like ice, "what made you think that was a good idea?" He shook his head, getting to his feet, "Really, Marko." He slowly approached him. He glanced at Michael, "How, exactly, did he proposition you, Michael?
"That's a good question," Michael glanced back over at him. "What was it you said? You found a couple of things you wanted...something you still want?" He scratched at his cheek idly, "yeah...I think that's what he said, isn't it, Paul?" He glanced over at Paul, who suddenly realized those pigeons over there really were super fucking interesting.
Paul looked away, "Hey, not getting into this, you guys can just keep talkin', I don't know nothin'."
Michael stood up from the couch, "hey, Paul...I saw some pretty cool rooms back there. Anything worth checking out?" He didn't look like he planned on sticking around for this, which wasn't a bad idea.
He nodded, "Yeah, yeah, want me to show you?" He questioned, quickly getting to his feet, skirting the outside of the room as David stalked toward Marko. Michael was soon at his heels. The smaller vampire, who had been trying to edge towards the exit, was not going to get away very easily.
Marko winced, pressing himself back against the wall and tilting his head to the side, "it was just a joke, man."
He raised an eyebrow, crowding him closer to the wall, "Oh? A joke?" He let out a snarl, his claws going into the wall on either side of his head, "I've been too lenient with you. Haven't shown you the consequences, haven't laid down the rules. Well, that changes now."
Closing his eyes, Marko tried to sink down a little and shrink away from David, "I didn't do anything...was just kidding around…"
"Michael is mine." He growled, pushing back and looking down at him, "Stay." He ordered, turning and going to get the bullwhip, "I picked something up from Max." He pulled it out from behind his chair before turning and moving back toward Marko.
Cracking open an eye, Marko paled considerably when his eyes settled on it. Fuck, he remembered that thing...had been acquainted with it on more than one occasion when he or Paul pushed a joke a little too far and ruined some stupid fucking plan Max had for his business or potential toys…
"C'mon, Davey…" he pleaded, "I get it, I get it...he's yours, I'm sorry, okay?" He appealed to his pack leader's human-...well, shit, he knew he wasn't getting out of this one.
He let it uncoil, dragging it across the ground, "Might want to get your jacket off, don't wanna ruin it, do you?"
"...No," he kept his head tilted submissively, peeling off his jacket. Better to just get it over with. Damn it, how was he going to get Michael back for this one?
"Oh, and Marko?" He paused, swishing the whip back and forth, "This little prank war, ends now."
"So, what was with those crazy dudes at lunch today?" Jake asked over the phone, and Sam could hear Motley Crue blaring out of his bedroom radio over the receiver.
Sam shrugged before remembering he was on the phone, "No idea, trying to avoid them, they just won't leave me alone." He paused for a moment, "Maybe I could get my brother to scare them."
"Kinda funny, them thinking your brother's a vampire...how old are they? Seriously?" Jake laughed. "They're a joke, dude."
He laughed with him, "I know, right?" Sure, he knew they were real but being normal...he wanted that. He couldn't help Ed and Alan. They had serious issues that went beyond anything any normal teenage boy could handle, whether they'd fended off a pack of blood-thirsty monsters over the summer or not. Plus, calling Mike a vampire again just because he was acting like a royal douche...that was just going too far.
"So, you going to go with us this weekend?" Jake went on, changing the subject.
"Going where?" He scowled slightly, "You still haven't told me what it's about."
"It's this youth group thing...I don't know, man, they were passing out fliers by the carousel last Friday. There's gonna be free pizza, plenty of chicks...better than spending Saturday night at the library. C'mon...let's do something fun."
"Alright, sure, I'm in."
"Cool! Alex is gonna be there too, man…" He urged, snickering. Not that anyone had probably missed all the meaningful looks she kept sending Sam across the table whenever they hung out. She wasn't subtle.
Good thing his friend couldn't see him, he was blushing, "Shut up, man." He grumbled.