(A/n: Please enjoy)
Chapter 36: Settling Down
*A Few Days Later*
Multiple clacking of footsteps resound one after another down a flight of stairs made of stone, the glow from the lit sconces on both the left and right side walls color them and the descending group in a dull amber hue.
"When'd you know there was something like this in the school?" Damien asks Micheal, his voice low as to not sound awkward amid the only sounds belonging to their feet.
"It was more of a discovery if anything," Micheal answers. He briefly recalls inspecting a black bookshelf filled with books, though one of them conspicuously stood out right at the bottom shelf. It was red. He still can't shake the feeling that someone wanted him notice that book as well as the passageway that it hid, and his questions are whom and why.
"Oh okay. So, who's gonna force him to talk?" Damien asks once again, changing the subject. "Can I do it?" He volunteers eagerly before Micheal can say who. The group of five step off the last step and walk down a long corridor, similar sconces stationed one by one directly across from each other along the walls. At the very end of the hallway stands a lone maroon colored wooden door, embedded in it's middle is a shiny silver cross.
"I need to finish up where I left off, so please allow me to do so Principal," Kurai says, much to Damien's disliking.
"You've already had your fun, it's my turn now." Both noirette's glare at each other, past Henrietta who's walking in between them.
Said woman shakes her head with a sigh. "I hope you came with us to keep your boy toy in check."
Christophe scowls at the back of her head, knowing very well that the remark was directed at him. "Please refrain from talking to me ever again so I don't rip my fucking ears off."
"Shouldn't have tagged along knowing damn well I was gonna say something," Henrietta rolls her eyes. "And you didn't deny it either."
Before Christophe can retort back, Micheal stops raising one hand to silence the adults behind him, eyes narrowed with a stern gleam at the door in front of him. He's been waiting for this moment, and doing this after school is the appropriate chance. He just wishes he'd come here alone, the others are taking this too lightly.
Actually, it's not too late to make it happen right now.
"You four go back, I'll do this by myself," he lowers his hand down.
There is silence until it is shortly broken by Damien.
"Why?" He asks, voicing Kurai's, Henrietta's, and Christophe's (not)exact thoughts. "We're already here so we might as well-" He stops himself abruptly when Micheal turns to face them, the sheer look of seriousness on his face has the quartet frowning and a bit taken aback.
"Just do as your told," mint green eyes harden their glare. "I won't say it again."
No one speaks for a tense moment, witnessing a seldom expression on the calm and easygoing Principal's face.
Henrietta sighs a second time. "Fine, but you're telling me all that you've discussed when you're done," she says assertively, turning and going back the way they came.
Kurai, Damien, and Christophe are reluctant to follow her, but Kurai blurts out that he wants to be informed as well before doing as ordered. Damien says the same thing with a small grin then walks away, Christophe right behind him. He can care less about what they were going to talk about really, he only wanted to see how fucked up the vampire hunter was. Serves him right for being more of an idiot than a 'tough guy'.
Micheal watches them go until they're gone up the stairs, relaxing his glare a little as he returns his attention to the door. He gazes at the cross, red taking over his original eye color. The action causes the silver cross to glow, brightening half of the hallway. Micheal closes and shields his eyes, not taking his arm away until he feels the radiance dim down. Once it does, he looks at the door to see it bare and leisurely creaking partly ajar.
Absolute darkness is the first thing he makes out inside the room, next comes a foul stench akin to burning flesh.
Grimacing at the smell, he advances forward, pushing the door open all of the way as his eyes instantly adjust to the darkness all around. He smirks upon seeing a figure planted against the wall in the very center of the small room, the hunter finding the cervices of the stones more acknowledging than his captor's arrival. Ever since he was put in here, the floor has been the only thing he'd look at. He was stripped from his trench coat, fedora, gloves, socks, and shoes, and is only wearing his white dress shirt and pants. Both his arms and legs are spread apart and bounded by silver chains settled within the wall behind him, the odor originating from his scorched wrists and ankles.
Micheal approaches the man, lips going into a straight line. Not even the sound of his footfalls alerts a reaction out of Chris, Micheal assumes he's either asleep or simply ignoring him. He stops when the distance is reduced, he outstretches a hand and repeatedly snaps his fingers for Chris' awareness.
"Time to wake up Mr. Chris King, whether you're sleep, dazed, or whatever. I have some questions I want you to answer." He ceases his finger snapping when it fails to get Chris' attention. Micheal narrows his eyes slightly. "You're going to talk, and I have no problems forcing you to do so," he threatens in a austere tone.
"..F-fuck you..." Chris rasps out, not making eye contact with the Principal.
Micheal frowns, anger gradually building up. "Perhaps I should've let Kurai stay, since he's this guy's initial tormentor after all." He shakes his head with a sigh. "Being a stubborn bastard even in this situation, how foolish." In one swift motion, he thrusts his fist straight into Chris' stomach, force strong enough to make him cough up blood. It splatters onto the tips of Micheal's black dress shoes, but he doesn't pay it no heed. "You gonna comply or do I have to beat you half-dead until you do?"
Wheezing and gasping, tears sting the corners of Chris' shut tight eyes, blood trickling down his chin from the very thin gaps of his gritted teeth. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. "Heh...this isn't all that different from how it was at home." The only, main, difference is that it isn't his mother that's going to be harming him this time. He's nervous, really nervous in fact, however as long as he bears in mind who is in front of him, then that gives him the courage needed to hold his ground. Something he wish he was able to do back then. Pushing the thought away, his blood leaking lips curl into a smirk, compelling himself to disregard the intense pain in his abdomen. "H-hit me all you want." He hacks up a bit more blood before straining to raise his head, finally looking up at Micheal. "I ain't tellin' you shit'."
Very slowly and mysteriously, the unobtrusive lights from within the hallway seem to have lessened their already feeble lighting inside the dark room, darkening the entirety of the area dauntingly. Micheal gives Chris a very annoyed scowl, his balled fist shaking faintly before going to strike the smug looking man again.
"Stan stop!"
Stan kept running, the burst of adrenaline coursing throughout his body numbing the coldness in his legs to keep him going. He ran with his head down and his eyes closed, not trusting his eyes at the moment. Both his body and head felt heavy with dizziness, if it weren't for the adrenaline he would've already collapsed the instant he'd moved his legs.
Kenny tsk'd at the noirette's stubbornness, or should he even refer to it as such? He sensed a whirlwind of emotions going about inside the human teenager, and he actually felt somewhat sympathetic for him. Since Kenny knew of Stan's intentions, for him to suddenly be told that he basically either had to come up with a new plan or accept the fact that they had to stay here really struck the noriette deep in his very being. The look of utter despair on his pale face was saddening.
"He was that desperate to go home," Kenny thought, frowning as the gap between him and Stan shortened at a quick rate. It wasn't that Kenny was getting faster, Stan was becoming slower. Noticing this, Kenny stretched out a hand, struggling at first to grab Stan's own as he couldn't get the timing right. Once one of Stan's arms went back, Kenny seized this opportunity and managed to grasp Stan's fist. It was warm.
Stan instantly tried to jerk his hand away with a start, resulting in him slowing down to a halt. He turned his body around half-way. "L-lemme go," he panted, coughing and turning away soon after.
Kenny, not at all breathless, calmly inched himself closer to Stan to block his path. Keeping their hands locked. As much as he wanted to take him to Dr. Kero, the male nurse wasn't in his office and it wouldn't do Stan any good to rest in the gymnasium. He deepened his frown. "I'm taking you to your room, you're sick."
"N-no!" Stan shouted, borderline hysterical. It was also clear in his weary wide eyes when he shot his head upward to look at the blonde. "I-I don't wanna be here, lemme go!" Tears began to rise in sapphire eyes, Stan resuming his attempt to free himself though to no avail. Kenny was not going to release him no matter how much he begged or struggled.
Before Kenny could transport them to Stan's room, said teen dropped onto his knees, startling Kenny enough to almost let him go. Through his tears, Stan glared at the floor and curled his free hand that's on the floor into a slack fist. He began to question, with a heavy mind, why or what he did to deserve this. Just what did he do throughout his lifetime to go through this hell?
As far he knew, not a damn thing.
But he did regret one thing as his other arm lowered forlornly, and that was coming to this damned academy in the first place. That day when he received the cursed letter, he knew already that this school wasn't going to be an ordinary one after reading the letter's contents. He knew right then and there that this place harbored vampires, and what he should've done, regardless of the ridicule he was probably going to receive from his parents, was informed them about the creatures' existence.
But he realized this too late. He won't ever see his parents or South Park ever again.
Kenny was at a lost for comforting words, having freed Stan's hand moments ago. He didn't know what was going on inside Stan's head, but whatever he was thinking about appeared to had left him unable to run anymore, let alone stand. He sat there in a hopeless posture, silently crying.
"Oi!"
Feeling a spark of panic, Kenny looked up, relieved to see no one down the hallway. It was a male's voice that sounded like it came from the hall they just left from. Seemed Gregory and the others were spotted. Without a word, Kenny got down on one knee gently clasping Stan's shoulder, teleporting them inside the noriette's shared room.
The sudden transition made Stan's head all the more dizzier, the complete darkness in his field of view agitating his stomach. Kenny sat him down on the lone bed isolated from the other two on the other side of the room, then went to flick on the ceiling light. Afterwards, he stared at Stan's stiff figure for a short second then walked into the nearest bathroom. He came out a few moments later with a medicine bottle and a towel in his hands, he approached Stan.
"Take off your shoes and get under the covers," Kenny ordered as tenderly as he could, setting the items down on the nightstand. He was about to go back into the bathroom, but noticed Stan not moving. He sighed, rounding the front of the bed and getting back down on one knee to remove Stan's shoes. While doing so, he glanced up at his face through the corners of his eyes, Stan's own orbs were glazed over and his cheeks were damp and pink.
"..Why..?" Kenny set his last shoe next the other on the floor. "Why's it so wrong...for us to go back home? Why are we even here?"
Kenny didn't know how to answer any of those questions right off the bat. He got up to grab the towel, returning to his position but standing this time before the seated noirette. "Lift your head," he said, not changing in his warm tone.
Stan once again refused to do as told. Kenny raised his head for him with gentle care, carefully wiping the tear trails away with the large towel. Both were silent during the process. It's soon broken by Stan when Kenny was finished drying his face.
"Would it be better...to become a vampire?" Kenny paused, standing in the doorway of the bathroom with the towel. Stan gazed at the wall across from him with blank interest. "That way, I can give up going home."
Kenny pressed his lips into a line. "Stop talkin' crazy." He winced, he sounded a tad bit too harsh there. He returned the towel to where it was at previously, then took out the toothbrush and toothpaste from the cup, laying them down on top of the sink. He turned one of the knobs for cold water, and held the cup underneath the pouring liquid. He allowed the cup to be filled about even length from it's base, it wasn't too much or too little. He shut the faucet off and reentered the room, widening his eyes slightly in shock and relief when he saw Stan sitting up under the sheets.
He handed Stan the cup, who took it without much thought, then opened the medicine bottle. He beckoned for Stan to hold out his other hand, doing so after a momentary sense of hesitation. Kenny poured two pills onto his palm and fastened the lid back over the small container, placing it back on the nightstand's surface.
Stan stared down at the cup and pills hovering over his lap, a short memory of his childhood came flashing through his mind. His mother did this to him whenever he was sick, except he was given liquid medicine and a kiss on his forehead as a reward for being a big boy.
Tears resurfaced within his eyes, on the verge of spilling. "I wanna go home..." He sniffled, gritting his teeth. "Fuck!" He then swore, both out of sadness and anger, body trembling from the intensity of his emotions.
"I..told you before, that I know how it feels to be outta place," Kenny spoke awkwardly, looking off to the side. He didn't want to make it sound like he was switching this onto himself, he just wanted express how he went through a similar rough time. Stan said nothing, and he continued. "When I was a kid, I went to an all humans school, and just like you I felt on edge being there. But since there weren't any vampire schools at the time, I had to make do there the best I could. Somethin' you're gonna have to do as well." By this point, Stan was looking at him, his glossy eyes eying him curiously. "All I'm basically tryin' to say," hazel locked with sapphire, Kenny giving Stan a small smile. "Is that not everything will always start off with a good impression. Give this school, and some of the people here a chance. You'll soon find out that's it not so bad being in the same building as bloodsuckers," he ended on humorous note.
Stan blinked at him, frowning slightly. He somehow acquired this feeling that Kenny didn't tell him everything, but he had no reason to force him to do so, even though his curiosity spiked a little. Perhaps he'll ask him more about his days at the human school one day. Looking away, Stan shoved the pills into his mouth, then gulped down some of the water.
"I'll leave the medicine here, just in case you don't get better sooner."
Stan nodded, depositing the partially empty cup next to the medicine bottle. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Thank you, and sorry. I was acting like a little kid throwing a fit." His warm cheeks heated up in embarrassment.
"No worries," Kenny's smile shifted down into a frown. "I need to apologize too, I went too far with what I said to you earlier up on the roof. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, we were both caught up in the heat of the moment, I don't really blame you." He smiled warmly at the vampire. "I never doubted that you were a good guy."
Kenny couldn't stop his cheeks from coloring a light pink at the compliment, he cleared his throat. "Alright, get some rest. That cold of yours ain't gonna go away with you talkin' the night away." Speaking of which, he looked toward the alarm clock, the time was 2:57 a.m.
Stan rolled his eyes playfully, but lied down on his back. He slid his eyes closed, sleep creeping in.
His blush fading away, Kenny walked towards the light switch and turned it off, coating the room in pitch black darkness once more. He opened the door, closing it behind him with a very faint 'click'. As he walked the halls to Mark's room, his mind couldn't help but recall the one particular question Stan had asked in his daze.
"Would it be better...to become a vampire?"
It bothered him greatly.
...
"Kenny!"
Kenny blinks his eyes rapidly, being brought back to current time. He finds himself in his shared room, Kyle sitting on the same bed as him giving him a concerned frown. "You were zoned out for so long I had to call you five times."
Kenny trails his eyes down to his lap. "Sorry, was thinking how to go about this," he mutters.
Kyle copies him, appearing dejected. "I thought..you finally decided to come back. Is that not the reason you're here?"
Kenny forms his lips into a sad line, undergoing that flashback threw him off of his purpose for being in this room for a minute. "It is..but there's something else."
"Like what?" Kyle prompts softly, having an inkling on what it could be.
Kenny is quiet for some time. Just when Kyle is ready to snap him out his reverie once again, the anticipation for the awaited query killing him, Kenny shakes his head then opens his mouth to speak. "No never mind."
Kyle fights back the relief, masking it with confusion. "Kenny-"
"You can come out now Tweek," Kenny calls out.
After a couple of seconds, the bathroom door on the right opens with hesitant force, first revealing pale blonde spikes then Tweek himself. Kenny looks to him with a small grin. "Were you really gonna stay in there throughout the whole time we talked? What if it had of taken over an hour or somethin'?"
Tweek regards Kyle's facial expression before responding. "Would it have really lasted that long?" He steps out of the bathroom, going to his bed.
"Nah not really."
Kenny feels that he'd made the right choice by not to bringing up Kyle's and Tweek's relationship. His feelings for the redhead had long started to diminish anyway, ever since Kyle made it clear that he only saw him as his best friend and nothing else. Whether he and Tweek are actually together no longer troubled Kenny, to some degree. But either way he will be very supportive of their relationship.
He gets up, walking towards the door. "I'll be back, gonna go tell Mark that he can have his room back." And he opens it, wandering out into the hallway.
It's two hours later when Micheal steps foot back into his office, looking immensely displeased. The prime reason is that he was unable to get a single answer out of the vampire hunter, resulting in the man being beaten close to death. That's how uncooperative he was. Micheal had to stop himself from killing the hunter on his own accord since Chris was so willing to let it happen, he wasn't that serious to follow through with his threat. Chris is either extremely loyal to his boss (There's no way he's been working rouge, otherwise he wouldn't have been so obstinate with answering), or a masochist.
And he thought the students, as well as some of the staff, here were intolerable.
Micheal closes the bookshelf by pushing the red book back into alignment with the other books. He really wants to change the color of that book, every time someone enters his office he can't help but get antsy that they would notice the vibrant object. It stands out too well since this room is doused in purple and black decor, excluding his brown desk, even if a person isn't intentionally looking at it the book can still be seen upon a glance. Unfortunately, he can't do anything about it, the book is practically a part of the bookshelf.
Micheal then grimaces strongly at his bloodstained clothes, the blood looking like mud splotched onto his dark clothing. These are his work clothes, not fighting clothes. He doesn't mind the scarce red spots on his face, but his clothes are another matter. "Should've changed beforehand," he thinks, shaking his head at his thoughtlessness. He did know that it wasn't going to be easy getting Chris to talk, however rendering the man's face into a bloody pulp didn't cross his mind.
As he ambles towards his desk, he comes to a startled stop when he sees someone sitting in his chair. He frowns at them tiredly. "How long have you been in here?"
Henrietta, who was messing around on a cell phone on top of her lap, looks up from it upon hearing Micheal's voice. "I dunno, probably half an hour," she shrugs. She was distracted by all the contents, AKA apps and other things the small device contained. She's seriously considering getting herself one now, to stave off the boredom. "You didn't kill him did you?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at the noirette's bloody attire.
"No, was about to though. He refused to give me any answers." The reminder angers Micheal, but he keeps a calm, worn-out face. He walks behind his desk, giving the woman a curious stare. "Who'd you steal this phone from?"
Henrietta looks to him with the roll of her eyes. "I didn't steal it, I asked Damien if I could borrow it. My perception of these things have changed, they're actually pretty handy."
Micheal smiles at her in amusement. "Considering getting yourself one?"
Henrietta copies his smile. "I just might, it has some interesting apps that can keep me company whenever I'm bored, which is almost all the time. I'll be borrowing Damien's phone frequently from now on, just have to ignore the million texts and pictures of his stick up the ass boyfriend. I doubt even a girl would be this love-struck." She shudders.
Micheal gives a short laugh, it's not surprising to him anymore to hear that Damien's phone is literally loaded with things regarding Christophe. "It's Damien, his love for Christophe has no limits." Henrietta mumbles, "It's more like an obsession," as she shakes her head. Sudden seriousness develops on Micheal's face. "I need to hurry and contact him of this situation with the hunter. He should have some information by now."
Henrietta forms her lips into a line. "Hopefully he has something useful this time." She pauses. "I still think you two are related."
Micheal sighs. "We look nothing alike Henrietta, and I know when to take things seriously. But before that I need a shower and a fresh change of clothes."
"That you do." Henrietta gets up from the chair, looking at the time on the cell phone. "I'm gonna keep this for a little while-" She's interrupted by the phone's vibration, frowning at a notification. Christophe sent a message demanding her to return Damien's phone to him, putting emphasis on right now. "Never mind, keeping it till dinner." Micheal laughs.
(A/n: I hope you enjoyed and the next chapter will be up soon)