XIV
Rushing on to the cemetery, the ghouls: Rochelle, Scarah and Ghoulia, enter the Catacombs where they easily spot the cave in which Keith and Devon had just tried to summon Veritas into Toralei's body, by the intense light that emanates from inside.
The ghouls had seen some crazy weird shit before in their unlives, so when they saw that eerie golden light coming out of the cave, only to die quickly leaving behind the white light from the lantern, they naturally knew this was one of those moments when things just get super freaky!
The ghouls head carefully into the cave, a cloud of dust filled the air. Scarah and Ghoulia cough unable to breathe, Rochelle on the other hand, only feels a minor discomfort in her rocky nose and throat. A mere itch that needs no scratching. And if not for the unnatural light in the cave, they wouldn't be able to distinguish the outlines of Keith, Devon and Toralei, all three of them lying on the floor.
Dust still floating gently down through the air onto them.
Scarah and Ghoulia make their way through the cave, and land a hand to Devon and Keith so they can stand up.
"No touching! I don't need your help! I can stand on by myself," says Keith to Ghoulia, pulling out his arm, sounding curtly and rude as he naturally is.
It seems he has finally returned to his old, unsociable manners. Although in all fairness, that's indeed the way he treats anyone outside the SST and the ghouls (more specifically the few ghouls with whom he's interacted), thus, Ghoulia is really surprised that he treats her this way.
"Well, if you put it that way." She grumbles.
"Thanks," says Devon to Scarah, showing his gratitude and usual warmth in utter contrast with his cold friend.
The dust is finally clearing.
"You're welcome, ah… what's with that outfit?" She asks, turning her head around, surprised by Keith's nerdish look.
"Hey, just because I usually wear awesome-looking leather jackets, doesn't mean that's all there is in my closet!" He blurts loudly.
"What just happened?" Rochelle asks, helping Toralei to get back on her feet.
"Why don't you ask them?" She says, but there was something odd with her voice now. Not only she didn't sound curtly and nasal as usual, but it was just different.
She didn't mind this much, though, and infers she sounds different because of the dust in the air.
"What have the two of you done?" She inquires sternly at them.
The dust finally settles down, more than enough to see she was mad in a way they have never seen her before.
"Sweetie, this is not what it looks like," Keith answers promptly with his trademarked sarcastic tone.
This sound of arrogance and absolute lack of concern for just everything in his voice only infuriates her even more.
"Oh really," spoke Toralei, in a soft whisper a second before Rochelle gets to talk. "'Cause it seems like…" she pauses for a second, to stretch her arms, shaking the old rusty iron chains placed on her wrists, and for a second they seemed to burn with a golden light of their own — and in shock they all notice not only the chains flashed, but also a thin, golden gleaming rope seemed to have formed around Toralei's body, wrapping itself tightly around her arms and legs: a bind translucent, bright and ethereal — and then at the next second it had just vanished into thin air as soon as it had appeared, and the chains had once again their same plain old black, rusty color "you've bind me."
"I — I assume we are not talking to Toralei anymore," Devon asks, mustering as much confidence as he could.
"What does the voice and hair tell you?" She inquires.
Is just when she mentions the hair, that they noticed it was no longer orange, but blonde. And it was not just the simple yellow hair you see on the streets and magazines, this was golden, an unnaturally iridescent and bright golden hair.
It was the most beautiful and enthralling blonde hair they have ever seen, so perfect, as if each of her hairs were made of a thin thread of the purest gold.
With a closer look, they notice that her eyes are no longer green emerald, they are glowing gold too.
"No way…" Keith and Devon say in utter shock.
"I don't understand… did you dye your hair?" Scarah asks, still not grasping on to the situation.
"Yes, that's why my eyes are gold, and I'm bonded by the most despicable of spells," she retorts sarcastically with a soft and silky voice.
It was evident that Toralei was no longer herself, someone else dwells in her body.
"I… summoned Veritas…" Keith says in shock.
"Yes, you did, boy." She confirms.
"I… summoned Veritas," he repeats, still unable to believe what just happened. "I just summoned a goddess and forced her into a vessel!" He continues, taking his hands to his head, trying to control his breathing; excitement rises uncontrollably up his neck like a tidal wave filling into his hollow cheeks, heart beating faster and faster. "I can't believe this! I thought for sure it wasn't going to work," he goes on, a brief moment of honesty flashing from his mouth; he looks fevered, fully possessed by a gleefulness like he hasn't felt in years if not ever.
The ghouls look at him surprised that he would, or rather that he could show and feel this level of excitement and emotion; Scarah takes a better look at his face: there is a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it does not make him better looking; but instead, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost demented, borderlining psychotic. And yet, somehow, the sight of this fills her with something, some kind of feeling… despite being more awkward to look at than usual (and for a reason totally different) she couldn't say it was unappealing.
"Ok, ok, that's about enough," he says, controlling himself again, taking in three deep breaths.
Rapidly, his handsome face turns back to its normal deadpan — the same expressionless, bored and almost irritated face he has during classes.
"Are you calm now?" Veritas asks patiently.
"I think so. Yes." He says with no hint of emotion in his voice.
Scarah thinks of it as remarkable how easily he could go from fully excited to simply… nothing.
"Well, in that case… what do you want from me?" Veritas' soft voice sounds serious and cold now.
"The truth," answers firmly.
Veritas sneers.
"The truth… Do you even know… quid est veritas?"
"Est vir qui adest."
"Ha! Nice joke… But seriously, why was I summoned?"
"Eh, well, we…" he stops in the middle of this sentence when he catches a glimpse of Devon and the look on his face that says Don't you dare saying is we, when it was your idea. "I need your blood for an unconcealment spell to reveal a house hidden by a trickster, or his avatar. Not sure yet." He explains, and as he finishes his sentence, he couldn't help to sound a little nervous in front of Veritas' presence.
"And what makes you think it would work?"
"Well, you are pretty much the embodiment of truth, there is no way your essence won't reveal such secrets. Hell, I even feel more like an honest man by standing in front of you," he explains, sounding slightly more nervous.
"Ok, then why should I give you my blood?"
"Because we're your bosses now! And we command it to you…" he says with a sudden air of defiance filling his lunges, then adds, getting a peeved look from her, "uh, respectfully…" sounding nervous again, even a little frightened.
"And then what?"
"And then we let you go." Devon says.
"You know you can't lie or keep secrets from me, don't you?"
"We are not lying, if that is what you mean. We fully intend to release you… after we make sure our schoolmates as the one you are possessing, are safe."
"What if I refuse?" She asks, calmly, even bored, as if this were another boring day at the office, or a DMV.
Prayer number 63, please come to the box. Good morning, what is your problem today?
"Well, I got a very long needle, and I don't really need your permission to take your blood. As long as you're bonded, we'll be your bosses, and you'll have to do as we say, and you can't hurt us."
Now her expression, which for all this time has remained blank and unchanged, became a resentful glare. It was clear she was angry, and at the same time she feels impressed for them and how they had the guts to do this
Her lips curve into a smile as she sneers.
"Ok, I'll give you my blood, and I guess I'll protect your friend for as long as I'm trapped inside her. Not like I had much choice, anyway." She agrees without resentment.
"No, not really." Keith says, approaching her with a hypodermic needle in hand; not with a grin, and surely not with that I just won air the ghouls expected from him. Instead he looks tired and restless, well… more than the usual.
And they were all surprised she agreed so easily, for they didn't know this little secret: if the vessel dies, the god within dies too. Thus, it is of her best interest to keep Toralei alive until all this madness is over, this was his secret plan to keep at least one of the Slut ghouls safe all along, and it would have worked all too well, if not for the unexpected recent events that just happened and they would soon learn.
The only flaw in his otherwise perfect plan that relied merely on Toralei being unlucky, but just like he's got pockets within pockets, he also has schemes within schemes, and this would not be the end of it, neither it would deter him.
03:16 PM
SST Headquarters.
"How am I going to explain any of this to Bloodgood?" Asks a frantically freaked out Rochelle walking around the room. "I — I cannot even begin to understand what the HELL just happened down there. I mean — what was that?"
"I told you I'd summon a goddess of truth to reveal Unknown's hideout. I thought I gave a clear explanation." Keith says with utmost indifference and calmness. As if this were just routine for him.
All the while, Veritas sits calmly on a spinning chair, with the chains still on her wrists.
"I — Bloodgood is going to be here at any moment, how am I supposed to explain to her that Toralei is now the… the…" she pauses for a moment trying to remember the word.
"The vessel of Veritas." He finishes the sentence for her.
"Right, the vessel. Thank you." Rochelle goes on, spinning madly on her heels. "You know what? You'll explain it to her, because I have nothing to do with it."
"I am here because you needed my help, and I gave it to you! Without me, you wouldn't even know with whom we're dealing," he continues with the same indifference.
"That doesn't justify this!" She points madly at Veritas with both claws. "When you said you would summon a goddess I never thought you meant putting her inside Toralei! I didn't even think you could do it, and even then, the understanding was that you would summon her, not force… whatever her name is into one of our classmates without her permission."
"Please, you can call me Verity." She interrupts calmly, with an indifference that matches Keith's, as though they weren't talking about her.
"Sure thing… Verity." Rochelle calls her out coldly and glaring.
"Hey, there is no need to be mad at me. I'm the victim here, I'm the one who was forced from her palace into this awkward feline body and now am held against my will by this… whatever the hell he is." She retorts, gesturing at Keith.
"And you, how could you let him do that? I can't believe you really allowed this to happen," she turns on Devon. It was like a malediction, and yet the guys could not care less; while Keith simply doesn't mind her ranting, he was transfixed with Unknown's video of his killing in the Black Room and the way he had evolved. "I thought you were supposed to be responsible one!?" Rochelle goes on, fuming, pointing at him in dire accusation, he who remains silent, ignoring her ranting, now watching Nefera's video, which I remind you, is a live broadcast!
And for this time only, you can vote to decide whether she lives or dies! So go ahead, hurry up and don't waste any time! Go into your computer, and enter .com and vote! Vote! VOTE!
Don't use .org or .net, those are for losers.
Rochelle shouts out him name, calling him back to reality. Yet, Devon, despite her yelling and dire tone, would not notice her. Instead, he remains silent, frowning and arm folded, staring at the screen in such way it almost seemed as if he thought he could reach out to her by just watching and focusing on the video long enough — using his sheer willpower to get her out. And it really got her attention how his brown, almond-shaped eyes look so cold and detached, in a way she has never seen before in any living being, with no trace of their usual warmth to be seen — I daresay they even look soulless; they were almost as disturbing as the video, and it scares her; the simple glimpse of them kills the momentum of her anger cold.
Still oblivious to her, he changes to the news channel in which an FBI agent makes a bold statement concerning the video: …on, both human and RAD FBI's will form a joint forces unit to capture this terrorist. With that being said, anyone who watches and/or spreads this video, as well as those who enter this web site or spreads the link in anyway, will be automatically considered accessory of murder, and an enemy of the state. Those who enter this site, and even worse, give any vote thinking they got the right to decide the fate of this person, will face sentence for life, unlife or even dead penalty.
This was Special Agent Darkholme, direct from DC…
"Was that… your father?" Scarah sounds.
"Yes…" says in a soft, cold whisper that couldn't hide his exasperation and anger.
There was a brief moment of silence, that really awkward silence that makes you feel like leaving the room, pushed and willingly.
"Is he aware that you—"
"Never really told I am working this case." He cuts her off. "Does Ms. Bloodgood know about this?" Inquires with the same coldness.
"It's on every news channel, no way she doesn't." she replies, for a moment she forgets sounding mad and fierce. "She said she wanted to talk to you and she's not going to be glad with this stunt you guys pulled off," continues, sounding stern again.
"I thought so." Devon reckons. "I am sure this will end in—" and just in the middle of his sentence, an ominous groaning-like melody interrupts him, followed by a chorus that sings: O' death… oooh… O' death… My name is death and the end is near…
"Sorry, that's my phone. New ringtone. You like it?" Keith expresses with a faint smile, searching for his phone all over his body, checking his pants, then his vest, and then his pants again, searching into his butt pockets, which he reckons is stupid since he never puts his things in those pockets. He better than anyone, knows how easy it is that a wallet gets stolen from them.
"I think the sound comes from your purse." She grumbled.
"Is not a purse, it's a manpurse, in which I keep my manly man stuff!" He corrects Ghoulia.
Immediately he searches his phone in his manpurse in which he keeps his manly man stuff, and answers the call. He takes it with certain enthusiasm, saying things for which the ghouls couldn't place a context, except for one, the most confusing one being "You got the herbs now? Thank Goddess. I'll see you right now."
"What was that?" Scarah asks.
"My dealer. Says he's got the ingredient I need for my spell." Explains, picking up his stuff. "You coming?" He turns to Dev.
"Sure," he says, taking his jacket. "We better get this over with, and soon."
"Wait, you're leaving again? You can't just go like that, and leave us here to deal with Bloodgood!" Rochelle roars.
"Well, you're all welcome to tag along if you want," Keith replies.
"I admit I feel tempted to say yes," Scarah says partly excited. Rochelle growls at the girl. "I don't know about you, but at this point, I'm curious to see how this will end."
"What!? I cannot even — Ok let's pretend for a second this crazy plan works and he finds his house, what's next? Are… are you actually gonna try to arrest him, or are you calling the cops to tell them where to find him?"
"I'm a P.I. I cannot arrest, but the bright side is I do not need to warn before shooting, if I have to, of course."
"Don't worry, we talked about this, remember? We're gonna set him up, wrap him for present, and then unmask him in front of the police. All I need is something, something else and another thing." Keith announces.
This may be by far the most vague answer she has heard, she doesn't like vague; and much to Scarah's annoyance, she couldn't peep into their minds to know what their plan is.
…I'll always do whatever is necessary…
"At least tell me you're telling your father you know where he is. And what about her?" She points at Verity without even looking at her.
"Oh, she'll be fine. She's a goddess. Besides I painted some protection sigils around the office," reasons Keith as he pulls down the curtains.
With the room in near darkness, he takes out from one of his shoulder bags his limited edition Black Lantern lantern, which emitted a powerful and intense black light (and yes, I know what you're wondering, did these White and Black Lantern Batteries came as a set? Yes they did!), under which the sigils he painted in invisible ink all over the room when nobody was looking come to life, glowing with a violent violet color.
…Violent Violet. Sounds like the perfect name for a rock band, or a super heroine, don't you think?
"Hey dudes, check this out," he puts the lantern on his face making his teeth glow violet too. "It is a crime scene in my mouth! If you turn this in my room, it'd look like a Jackson Pollock paint."
"He's not lying," Verity says from behind.
"Explain this," the gargoyle orders.
"I placed these sigils when we thought Unknown would use one of the students as the next sacrifice. Assuming they work, he shouldn't be able to get inside the room without permission, in which case we could expand this protection all around the school. Of course, he used Nefera, so they're still untested, but if they do work, then in theory they should also keep pagans inside, thus, she can't leave the room. But then again, she's bonded to me and must obey when I say she stays here doing nothing."
"If only I could do that with you." Goyle remarks bitterly. "So the ghouls were just part of some kind of experiment?" She asks, with a mix of shock and disbelief.
"Kinda."
"You are a horrible person, do you have any moral code?"
"I learned at the age of ten that morality is relative." He retorts.
"Right… When did you get the time to do all this anyway?" Asks the angry gargoyle.
"I made most of them yesterday before bringing the ghouls up here, then I finished the rest in the morning while you two were sleeping. I reckon I was very tempted to paint an invisible dick on both your faces," admits with a faint smile.
"Wait, you telling me you painted a penis on my face?" She snarls.
"No… that would be disrespectful," Keith says, opening the door (what he really drew was a monocle, a stupid hipster mustache, and a devil's goatee all over her face. He also wrote three things on her body: I hate hipsters, I luv Dev with little hearts around it, and his signature Morningstar was here, using an actual nine-point star instead of his surname).
Logically, she couldn't see any of it, and the ghouls wouldn't say anything, really, partially because it was just too funny, but also because time was of the essence, so they just giggled a little.
"Now, I got a schedule to keep, so can we please get moving?" He opens the door.
"Moving where, Mr. Morningstar?" Questions Headmistress Bloodgood on the door.
The following events were just too boring and uninteresting to even bother narrating, so I'll just fastforward this, well, technically I can't fastforward this 'cause it is written, so I'll just sum it up, but you can visualize it as a speed up video: the SST goes to her office where they tell the principal everything that she doesn't know, omitting of course some parts that she really doesn't need to know such as what happened last night with Gory and the others, or that Toralei is now possessed by Verity. Naturally, now she has seen what Unknown is capable of, she was not very pleased with the idea of her students investigating him — even less now that both FBI's (Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Fearsome Body of Intelligence, currently deciding whether to change the Intelligence for Investigation or Inquiry, I know it sound made up, but is totally not, and is a good thing they didn't use Boo-reau) are on the case. But mostly, what he did in the Black Room was more than enough to prove her what a stupid idea this was. She knew this was dangerous since the beginning, but now — do you really think she'll keep this circus going on? Nah-ah. No way she would send or allows her students to walk towards a certain death, specially not the new normie students — that would just fuck up all the point of the exchange program! Hell!, she regretted hiring Devon the second he left the door, like what the Hell kind of Headmistress are you by telling your students to act like literal Student Police?! She couldn't sleep for weeks thinking what would happen if they die because of her.
What were they going to do anyway? P.I.'s can't arrest people, can they?
I'll tell you what her plans were, she would draw her good old family sword, and she would harvest his head, put it in a bag, and then shove on a stick in her room!
Or maybe I'm just imagining things.
Whatever the case, there is just no way any of it happens now, this man is just too dangerous to allow Devon and Rochelle going forward with this investigation.
Thus, she does what she should've done since the beginning, and orders the SST to shut down this operation and dismantle this Unknown Task force…
The guys did not take it well. Specially Dev.
Walking fast down to the parking lot, behind the rarely seen angry Devon, Keith poses one simple question "So… are you walking out of this?"
"No!" Says sharply.
"Oooh… Does that mean what I think it means?"
"Yes. We're going to get him, whether she likes it, or not." A red spark of undeterrence momentarily blazes in his eyes.
"Oooh! We're going dark, I love it when you play a bad boy. Is so sexy," he expresses. "Riding in the dark with a friend is so much better than riding alone. I'll get the ingredients, see you in the backwoods."
06:18 PM
After a quick trip to the Flea Sack, where Keith buys most of his magic herbs, and… everything he needs for his magic tricks and such, and of course a quick change of outfit, because this is a Monster High fanfic, come on! New characters means new clothes whenever we get the chance, just for the Hell of it (it should be the same for the ghouls, but they got too much in cannon), and in this occasion he's sporting a navy blue, furlined, hooded puffer jacket with black trousers and dark purple shoes and his always present yellow shield sunglasses which he rarely takes off.
He rides into the forest behind Monster High, where he easily spots Devon's silvery pick-up truck, a Ford in case you ask. He also had a change of outfit, dressed fully in black: black shirt, black pants, black shoes and a long jacket that looks like it costed a few thousand dollars.
"Did you get everything?"
"Yep." Says he, getting off his race bike with a shoulder bag stuffed with magical ingredients.
"Ok. I'll drive."
"Woa, hold on! Not leaving my baby out here alone," he says.
"Fine, put it on the truck." Devon hisses exasperated.
Getting the bike on the pick-up would turn out to be the easiest part of the night.
They drive in the Slim Shady Oaks area, seemingly aimlessly for almost an hour until Keith tells him to stop in a clearing that, in fact, seems large enough to build a house. A house that should be invisible if placed under a concealment spell.
A quick glimpse at the sky tells them the twilight is near.
As soon as they get out of the truck, Keith begins to touch the air as if looking for a wall in a pitch dark room; of course, the house is untouchable as well as invisible, but he has his own ways. In a few seconds he stops, grinning, thinking I gotcha.
Quickly he pulls out of his shoulder bag all he needs to cast the unconcealment spell and begins with the complicated preparations; Devon walks around him and all around the clearing, vigilantly, holding the heavy automatic pistol he got from his father's office (Colt Government Model .45) with both hands, pulling back the tight hammer with his right thumb. He cautiously checks the premises. There was no one in the clearing in any direction, but still he wouldn't put the gun back into the holster, au contraire, he holds the gun tighter as he stands by his friend who was most exposed and vulnerable while kneed on the ground. Luckily Keith is nothing but a quick worker, and is already half the way through with the spell, placing a gold goblet on a shroud with an odd symbol, which includes a wide nonagram, painted in red; without former ado he begins to smash the herbs he just bought. From one of the many inner pockets in his puffed jacket, he pulls out a long thin bottle, which contains Verity's blood. The substance wasn't red, though, but instead it was the color of molten gold, shining — glowing actually, wild and brightly with a light of its own, fully illuminating his face, as a golden glow-stick from a Hufflepuff House party.
Without hesitation, he pours the thick blood into the goblet, not a single drop of blood got wasted, then the strange herbs begin to melt as they come in contact with the blood; silvery blue steam rises from the surface. With his silver dagger, he mixes the ingredients, murmuring an incantation in a chant-like manner (it really sounds almost like a song), his voice was so low only a werewolf like Clawdeen could hear him, but even then, she couldn't possibly be able to understand what he says for it was Latin.
And now the final piece, the blood of the caster.
Since Devon has already used his, it was only logical and fair he would use his own this time. And just as Dev did, Keith cuts his palm (his left hand to be precise) with his kris dagger, mixing his dark red blood with the golden glowing blood, and the moment both substances make contact, such opposites forced together, pure and divine mixed with unholy and mundane, the potion begins to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it bursts out a large dark red flame with, savage golden and scarlet sparks swirling around it. Then as sudden as the flame came to life, it dies, leaving behind a clear, bright gold cloud of steam that lifts above their heads; Keith stands up staring at it mesmerized as it sifts serenely upon them, steady and purposeless.
Slowly, he sheathes his dagger and puts it back inside his jacket, then raises his wounded, still bleeding hand and commands in a mystical tone "In the name of The Dawning One, reveal to me the secrets that hide before me."
A soft breeze blows from behind them pushing the golden steam forward, and as if it had a mind of its own, it begins to swirl around the clearing in all directions, splitting into a dozen thin threads of golden steam arcing high over them — crisscrossing all around that empty spot in which, Keith knows for sure, should be a house, taking the form of a dome cage. Then the dome begins to twirl as it grew thicker, morphing into a tornado of pure golden smoke.
Suddenly the smoke fades away in a puff, revealing the concealed two store house in which Richard "Dick" Wayne, also known as Unknown, held as prisoner Deuce Gorgon in order to rip his eyes with a spoon as the later saw everything through the mirror on the ceiling, composed the song that killed D.J. Holt, gelling out his not-so-used brain, and currently holds Nefera, who is soon to be his third victim and sacrifice as part of his ritual. I would say innocent victim, but not even a trickster can tell such a lie.
"No freaking way…" says a soft and sweet voice in a gasp, shock mixed with amazement.
Fearing they got caught by Dick, they turn their heads in a state of alert, looking at the threes behind which the ghouls hide.
"What the Hell are you doing here?!" Roars Keith. His right hand already grasping tightly the hilt of his lucky combat knife which he hides inside his boots all the time, even at school; Devon's thumb already cocking the hammer of his gun, his finger almost ready to pull the trigger.
If not for all the concentration needed for the spell, he would have realized sooner they're not alone, Clawdeen, Rochelle, Draculaura, Scarah and Frankie were with them. Not even Devon noticed them when they arrived after his first and only check of the premises, he was too focused on what Keith was doing. It was indeed, the first time in years, that somebody gets the jump on them like this. What's wrong with you guys? You're better than this!
Oh, give them a break! They're teens, they're already going through a lot of shit: school work, secretly capturing a serial killer with magic, and doing it without help. Have you ever tried to juggle that many balls? Sooner or later you would drop or almost drop one, specially if you're human.
"Oh… hi," Frankie says awkwardly and frightened, with a nervous smile, her miss-matching eyes fixed on their weapons.
"Please don't stab us, it's just us, your lovely classmates!" Draculaura says in her squeaky voice.
"Ah, could you… put the gun and the knife away?" Frankie pleads.
"No," answers Keith… sharply.
"What are you girls doing here?" Dev inquires as all the ghouls come out of the threes.
"Ah, well… I kinda overheard you at school earlier by accident," Clawdeen begins, "we were there to see Operetta, and well, I wasn't sure what you were talking about until Rochelle told us what happened, so we got Ghoulia tracking your phones and… we thought you could use some help."
"Well, is more like we were sent to help you… going back to school… Orders from Bloodgood," Lala adds.
Devon frowns, giving a stern look at Rochelle, as if this were her fault.
Coldly, he asks "What exactly did you do?"
"I didn't do anything…" Goyle replies. "Except maybe telling the Headmistress that you were still going after him and then calling the police to give them an anonymous tip." She shrugs.
"That's when she told us we had go after you," Clawdeen retorts.
The guys remain silent for a few moments.
Frustrated, Keith asks "Why would you go and do that? Are you nuts?"
"What? We? You're the ones who came alone to the house of a serial killer." She reasons. "How can you even think of doing such thing?"
"You just ruined everything we worked for, everything I worked for!" Keith expresses in a low shouting.
"So this is about getting the credit for his capture?" Rochelle asks.
"It is for me!" Keith reckons.
"Of course it is. Don't worry, they wouldn't believe me anyway," Rochelle announces. "Those idiots."
"They probably thought it was a phony and didn't want to look incompetent for following a fake lead. Whatever the case, you're coming with us," Clawdeen says, unaware of how right she is, for more than once Richard called the police giving them this exact location in which they'd find only threes, never imagining he was standing in his front door laughing at them, protected by a most powerful concealment spell.
"No, we are not. We are ending this tonight, and you will not get in our way!" Devon states firmly.
Rochelle was impressed by this answer. It is evident by the tone of his voice he's being deadly serious about it! Devon always seemed the most wise and rational of the two, but this was unlike the Devon she knew. But then again, did she ever get to truly know him?
Sure, they have become close by all the work they've done, and got the chance to bond even more into buddies last night, talking over movies, music and simply being normal teenagers, but she never really got the chance to know what lurks inside his mind, let alone discuss what were they supposed to do once they get Richard, …and he's got all this secrets he hides, and they feel like the kind of secret he'd kill you if he tells you about… could it be possible that all this time he was planning on — no! He couldn't do that, he wouldn't! But then again, he's carrying a gun. Of course, Unknown is armed too, so it only makes sense he brings one too in case he needs it, but was he really expecting to use it?
…I'm a P.I. I cannot arrest, but the bright side is I do not need to warn before shooting, if I have to, of course…
"You can't do that," the gargoyle states with the same firmness, "how are you even going to—"
"I am going into that house, and I do not care if you like the idea, or not!" He declares, and this time there was a powerful determination blazing in his eyes like she has never seen before, for a second she even thinks to have seen a red gleam in them — no, surely it's just an effect of the light, the crimson light of the twilight reflected on his eyes.
Oblivious to it, the sundown has started and the sky burns red above their heads.
That aside, she couldn't help to feel admiration for him and the way he dares to stand before that man, and even, she would admit to herself, more attracted to him.
"I—" she pauses for a moment, then says "if this is really how you want it to end, then let me help you."
"No way, it is too dangerous for you."
"Why? Because I'm a ghoul?"
"I don't know, does he like to kill monsters?" Keith points out, getting a glare from Clawdeen and Rochelle. "Look, I'm not saying we're safe from getting shot for being humans, but he is more likely to shoot you first. He wants to use one of you as final sacrifice, and I don't reckon it wise to let you ghouls into that house."
"Well, you are not getting into that house without backup." Rochelle insists. "Besides, I'm made of stone. I can take whatever he has."
There's a brief silence. "You fell for a tough one. …Now I see why you like her," Keith throws a grin, patting Devon's shoulder.
"Am with her," Clawdeen declares, stepping next to her. "Listen, we're not leaving without you. Now, we can either leave now, call the police again and tell them were to find this house (which to me is the best and most reasonable option), or we can leave after we have rescued Nefera and put an end to that man ourselves," expresses with the fierce determination of a werewolf.
"I wanna help too. I owe it to D.J. and Holt. Besides… we got powers that could help." Frankie remarks, small green bolts of lightning crackle from her neck screws, green electricity pulsing, arcing up between her fingertips.
"So did the many monsters he has slaughtered with a single hand, but that wasn't a problem. Yet, it seem I am not talking you out of this any more than you are talking us out, am I right?" Devon says.
"Yep, you're right," all the ghouls agree.
"Actually I do like the idea of calling the cops again," declares Lala. "Sounds the most reasonable thing to do… but we all know cops in this town, both sides, are deeply stupid."
"Ha! Don't I know that." Keith laughs.
"And let's be real for a second, when have we taken the rational option?" Lala points out.
"Fine," Dev agrees, reluctantly. "Good thing I brought some extra vests," remarks as he picks up the box full of bulletproof vests he got from his father's office.
"Put these on, quickly," he orders opening the box.
"I still don't understand why did you come here?" Keith asks Clawdeen in a low voice as Devon hands the ghouls their vests.
"For the same reason you came to my place last night, to make sure you'll be ok. I guess you can say I owe it to you."
"That was different, and you don't owe me anything."
"How come?"
They were talking almost in whispers.
"We didn't know if he could actually show up in your house. It was only probable, but unlikely that he would target you… that soon anyway."
"You almost make it sound like it was just an excuse to see me even with a Biblical storm raging out there."
"Maybe you're losing the point here, this is his home. If there is a place he'd be, is here," explains he, looking around the place.
So far, as it would appear, luck is on their side for there's no trace of Dick.
"Hey, the way I see it, one of my friends is about to do something really stupid and dangerous, the best and only thing I can do is make sure he'll be fine while doing it."
"You always put up your neck like this for your friends, don't you?" Inquires after mulling for a few seconds.
"Yes… no matter what the circumstances are, I'll always be there for my friends. And that includes you now." Clawdeen states with that same determination from before. "Are you not doing the same for Devon right now?"
"I guess I always do," says looking at his old friend tightening the best on Draculaura.
"Not arguing fashion sense… but don't you got these on a smaller size?" She asks.
"No," sates trying to fit the vest around her petite body the best he could. "Maybe you should think of growing up a little."
Frankie giggles at his remark.
Keith leans close against Clawdeen, their faces at mere inches away, his lips curve into a smile, not one of his usually creepy smiles, but a really… normal, even happy-looking smile.
"You really are a great ghoul, thanks for saying we're friends."
Clawdeen looks down with a coy smile, her beautiful wavy hair hiding her blushed face. She would later notice that was a very odd thing to say from him.
"You don't need to thank me." The wolf girl says.
"Sorry guys, looks like one of you will not get a vest." says Devon; only Clawdeen and Keith were left.
"You take it," Keith says handing her the vest with his wounded hand. "I don't need it."
"Are you sure?" She asks.
"Don't worry baby, I'll let you know a little secret: I'm bulletproof." He winks his right eye. "Besides, you're the one with parents who'd mourn you if you died."
"Right…" says pensively, putting on the vest.
Devon orders Scarah to stablish a psychich link with on them as he begins to explain the plan: they would split into three with Rochelle and Lala flying up to the attic where they would sneak in, Scarah and Keith get in through the back door, and Frankie, Clawdeen and him would get in through the front door. As she hears this plan, a not-so-small part of Clawdeen begins to have second thoughts about this whole idea, but quickly she pushes those thoughts aside before they fully form in her head. She is angry — she wants vengeance for her friends and most important, she wants to protect those she still has left.
"All right, you ghouls are dressed to impress." Keith says. "So… andale!"