Orange hues illuminated the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon for another finished cycle of daytime. The Empire Arms Hotel was the last building the light hit before it died away, bringing about the dark blue of night.
The inhabitants of Empire Arms slowly began residing within their nighttime comforts. Windows which were previously lit before, were now darkening with the curfew of these residents. Even the repair crew for the hotel had retired for the night, leaving their post-explosion project behind until the next morning. Several hours had passed, and only one room still emitted the glow of wakefulness, even in the small hours of midnight.
Henry stood by the bay window of his hotel room, losing himself in thought. Behind him, his compact yet easily maneuverable hotel room was dimly exposed to warm ambiance. Upon the dining room table, a wine bottle that had been uncorked looked to be about empty, and bore a label with the painting of a grapevine overlapping the coast of Tuscany.
A crystal wine glass sat within his palm, the stem extending beyond his middle and ring finger, crimson fluid twirling along the curved bottom. Henry lifted the rim to his lips, taking in the fermented extract with a satisfied hum escaping deep from his throat. It was hard for him not to tip the entire thing back, but he disciplined himself into savoring the flavor.
Once the mixture had been consumed, he placed his empty glass upon a shelving unit, one that contained an unusual variety of books for someone like Henry. Some of the books contained knowledge of his ancestry, several contained information about war, and few even went as far as to depict the natures of human sexuality in all forms. He was a reserved man, but his bookshelf displayed the wonders that he filled his mind with.
One book on the shelf stood out from the rest; it had a loose, leather binding with etchings of runes along the spine. This book was one that Henry had pilfered during the robbery of an antique store - something his boss had put him up to. No matter how many times a day he stared at it, he couldn't bring himself to pull open the pages and look at what was inside. Not out of disinterest. In fact, every book on his shelf had been read front to back, except this one. Palpable force could be felt when placing one's hand near it, a force that Henry did not want to reckon with.
Withdrawing his glare away from the mysterious book, he returned it back to the landscape visible from his large window. He pulled from his inner pocket a small box of cigarettes, took one out and placed it between his lips. Right as he brought his zippo to the end of it, he recalled a certain someone mentioning their distaste for the amount of smoke built up in the restaurant just hours ago. Henry remembered having a "get used to it" attitude towards the statement, but immediately felt some weird twinge of guilt in relation to that exchange.
He shut his lighter and took the slim unit of tobacco out of his mouth, ditching it and the rest of the pack into the trash.
Upon returning to the window just to stare at the darkening horizon, he noticed some strange movement in the parking lot. He squinted, trying to make out what it possibly could be, and with the passing moments finally realized it was Leon who had been traversing through the hotel parking lot.
"Of course." Henry chuckled to himself before taking another sip. He waited until he was sure Leon had entered the building before turning away from his window and nearing his front door. After a few minutes of waiting, he peered through the door's peephole to watch if Leon would arrive any second now.
He did, but there was something weird about his presence. Henry watched the young man walk down the hallway only to freeze at his door, ready to knock but not making any effort to actually do so. The mobster stared at Leon's facial expressions, seeing a look of hesitation before he dropped his hand and started to walk away.
"What…?" Henry was perplexed. "Where you goin'?" He had a feeling Leon was intimidated by him, but he didn't blame the young man. Coming from a land far away only to abruptly fall into the presence of the mafia was a trying event for anyone. Fixing his tie and clearing his throat, he gave himself a mental countdown before opening the front door to his apartment in an attempt to win back his anticipated visitor.
Far from Midtown, at the peak of Highbrook, storm clouds had circled overhead, devilishly opening up before the estates. With the desolate atmosphere of this neighborhood, there was no witness to the beam of blinding light which descended onto the earth. The beam disappeared without a single witness, leaving a bellowing darkness in its wake. The sky's cataclysmic portal closed up, dissipating among the faded stars.
In the wake of this demonic phenomena, emerged a disgruntled Dracula from the ring of grass scorched beneath him. His brow creased to the center over the bridge of his nose, his forehead dramatically crinkled with animosity. He evaluated his surroundings with blackened cornea and glowing embers, his hellish gaze finally setting on a mansion just under fifty feet in the distance. A typical human's eyesight wouldn't have been able to make out such an object with little presence of light, however Dracula's night vision allowed for him to navigate the land with ease.
As the vampire took his time traversing the grassy lands towards his destination, he paused a moment to avert his gaze towards the city in the distance. The center of Empire Bay was a fair distance from the estate, but their tallest buildings made the wakeful city look like a casual walk away. Dracula grew curious as to what life was like in the middle of this dense populace of humans, and how they went about spending their everyday lives. He knew it wasn't time, yet.
But one thought came to the vampire as he proceeded closer to the secluded mansion. Whether they had landed at the same time or at different intervals, Dracula knew Leon was not far.
"I know you're here, Belmont," Dracula muttered to himself, "and you had better stay out of my way." Regardless of his threats, Dracula bore no ill will towards Leon, albeit frustration and annoyance. He knew Leon had the power to destroy him if he could, which meant he would need an army. Who would make the greatest minions, if there were no monsters to conjure in this world?
Dracula had prior knowledge of this era, and knew not what would make the perfect monsters, but whom .
He stood before the tall oak doors that separated the inside inhabitants from the rest of the world. The vampire raised a fist to the door's surface, and began to rap slowly. Moments passed before they opened, revealing a woman of short-stature in a modest uniform with various stains on the apron. She peered up at Dracula with tired eyes, but did not ask him the reason for his appearance.
"Hello," Dracula greeted, being as friendly as he possibly could with the woman, "I'm a distant traveler, and I've found myself here with no direction. Might I come in and wash up, perhaps have a place to sleep for the night?"
The woman looked Dracula up and down, visibly intimidated by the towering vampire. She didn't stare in horror, but she seemed uncertain as to what choice she had to make next.
"I promise," Dracula inched a bit closer, "I won't be any trouble. Whatever your affairs are, I will steer clear. But if your domain is closed off to innocent travelers, I understand."
Before Dracula could finish his sentence, the woman opened the door wider to let him in, granting Dracula complete access to the domain. His instincts told him not to enter before receiving consent, so the gracious nature of this woman proved to be useful.
The vampire stared around with his red hues to make himself familiar with the home. The lobby was dimly lit, and the staircase ascended to a nearby ledge where they branched off and lined the walls to give way to the other rooms in the mansion. Dracula quickly took in as much information as he could before the woman looked at him again with concern.
"Mister?" she asked, her voice raspy.
Immediately, Dracula's attention was drawn back to the maid. "I'm sorry, madam. I've only seen interiors like this in museums and castles. Where I'm from, this taste is reserved for the elite." His eyes soften from his prior curiosity. "Does an elite figure here?"
Dracula noticed the slight panic that arose in the woman's features. He lifted an eyebrow with an observing nature before turning towards her completely to allow her to see him as whole.
"I don't mean to pry," Dracula stated dryly, "my apologies. What is your name?" He was quick to change the subject, just to bring the lady back from the brink of fear.
She brushed her apron, straightening herself out before answering, "Maria." The maid was short in her responses, seemingly trying not to offend the powerful vampire in front of her.
"Maria," Dracula smiled warmly, hiding his fangs successfully, "it's a pleasure to meet you. Is this your home as well?"
"No," Maria answered, before pointing up the staircase. From this gesture, Dracula made the assumption that the homeowner was just up those stairs and in one of the designated rooms. Dracula made a mental note to investigate later on.
"I see," Dracula replied, "are you a guest?"
"No," Maria answered blankly, "I clean the house…" Her voice trailed off, but she seemed more responsive to the vampire's questions.
"I can imagine why he would need your assistance," Dracula remarked, "this residence is rather spacious."
"He's a busy man," Maria added without Dracula's interference.
"What does he do?" Dracula asked, his eyes shining with contentment towards the woman's willingness to provide details.
"He has a family," she answered, "but, no kids. No wife."
Dracula was puzzled. "Come again?"
Maria continued. "These men. They come to the home. They talk. Drink. Smoke. I clean up after them."
"What is it that they talk about?" the vampire proceeded to effortlessly squeeze more information out of her.
Maria paused. "Murder."
Dracula's expression fell when he heard the word pass her lips. "Murder? My, what for?" he feigned surprise.
Maria gulped. "It's their empire. They murder people. Take their money. The whole family does this. All men. No wife or kids."
Dracula nodded, finally being able to piece together what this meant. With this passing moment of silence, Maria suddenly gasped and approached Dracula to cling herself onto his threads.
"Please," the panic rose in her voice, "do not tell anyone."
Dracula smiled again, showing as much of a polite nature as he could. "I appreciate your honesty, Maria. I'm sure the person who owns the home is pleased with the work you've done thus far. From the looks of it, you've done your job for the night. Why don't you go home? I'm sure your family would like to see you."
Maria peered up at Dracula with the intent to detect ill intent, but she saw nothing but a genuine nature in this man. She nodded, finally calming down before turning on her heel to collect her things. Dracula stood in the foyer while she made her way through the door, giving one last uncertain glance Dracula's way before completely disappearing past the oak doors.
Once the domain was secured again, Dracula's polite smile returned to its original devious scowl. He turned on his heel to scour the rest of the mansion. His eyes fell upon several indications of this man's wealth and power, not to mention the very abode he resided. Each clue allowed the vampire to become more familiar with this man before having spoken a single word to him yet.
After clearing the first floor, the vampire escalated towards the balcony overlooking the rest of the foyer. Normally, one would look through each of the several rooms to make a discovery, but Dracula found no such need. His cornea blackened around his red irises once again before he knelt to the ground, placing his palm flat against the floor. With eyes fixed to the floor, a red vein-like path travelled from his palm placement down the hall towards one of the doors.
"Third to the left." Dracula muttered to himself before standing to his feet. Not wanting to alert the owner, he levitated just inches from the ground before hovering to the bed chamber.
Behind the door, however, he could hear an agitated male grunting out orders to no one in the room. Dracula could hear him perfectly without pressing his ear to the door.
"Maria!" the man called out, but after moments of no response, his elevated voice turned hostile, "MARIA! GOD DAMN IT, MARIA! ANDELE! ANDELE! GET YOUR ASS UP HERE AND CHANGE MY PISS BAG! VAMOOSE! "
Dracula knew first impressions with this man would not be entirely positive. At this point, upon hearing this fool tastelessly mock Maria's regional accent, it became guaranteed that there would be no mercy from the vampire.
Raising his hand in the air, he used his telekinetic powers to make the door open on its own. He made sure it moved slowly, and for the hinges to creak. Once the door opened completely, and Dracula was in view as a tall, dark silhouette, the man stopped shouting and did nothing but stare.
"And who the FUCK are YOU!?" the man spat at Dracula, his face contorted with unnecessary rage.
Dracula did nothing but stare him down with red hues, his gaze travelling down the man's bed and to a strange object fasted to the frame. Upon closer inspection, it was a bag halfway full of urine with a tube that travelled from underneath the blanket to the fixture. The vampire could only assume where the other end was located.
Not allowing his fast to twist in disgust, he hovered forward, making sure the man was able to see his full face this time. "I'm here to make you an offer."
Before Dracula could express further details, the man started screaming again. "Hah! Lemme guess, an offer I can't refuse ?" He wheezed obnoxiously with laughter before returning to anger. "GO FUCK YOURSELF!"
"Precisely." Dracula answered.
The man was fully enraged this time. "DO YOU KNOW WHO THE HELL I AM, BOY? I'M CARMINE FUCKING CARUSO! GREATEST MOB BOSS WHO EVER LIVED! IF I HAD A GUN, I'D SHOOT YOU BETWEEN THE FUCKIN' EYES MYSELF!"
"There is no need for such language," Dracula tried to reason with him, "are these the last words you want to utter before meeting the Lord? Or perhaps, someone else? Besides… your bullets will have no effect on me."
"BULLSHIT!" the mob boss tried to lean over his bed towards the nightstand to reach for a possible weapon. "YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET MY PISTOL! YOU MOTHERFU-"
But before the man could reach into the bedside shelf, he stiffed and gasped, blood pouring out of his mouth. Dracula was right in front of him, with his hand plunged deep into the man's abdomen. With his talon-like claws, the vampire tore through muscles and multiple organs, including his bladder. The catheter bag on the side of the bed frame filled to the brim with dark, rancid blood before detaching from the tube and spilling onto the floorboards.
Even as Dracula's fangs had been fully visible, ready to feed at the sight of blood, he didn't bother getting a taste. "You're not worth a single bite." he growled, before tearing his hand out of the man, allowing his body to slump over in a pool of his own blood and excretions. Part of his intestines began to pour out of the new orifice put there by Dracula.
The vampire stood back a few feet to take in the sight of the blood mess he'd made of the disgraced mob boss. He looked down at his hand, which was caked in thick globules of blood. With blackened cornea, his hand became engulfed in a mystical flame, the kind that could only be imagined filling the entire kingdom of Hell.
With one swift motion, Dracula tossed the flame at the bed, causing it to engulf everything upon impact, including the boss's fresh corpse. These flames did not produce toxic smoke, embers, or even scorched matter in its wake. Instead, as the fire burned through these objects, everything it consumed had started to disappear from existence. Dracula watched in satisfaction as the dead mob boss withered away from the plane along with his bed, fluids, and medical equipment.
Once the astral flames died down, the room appeared clearer with the newfound emptiness. In the absence of the wretched larvae that called itself Carmine, Dracula was finally able to establish himself in the domain of his choice.
"Now where to begin…"
"Where exactly are we?" Leon tried to search for clues to gain knowledge of his whereabouts. The bar Henry had taken him to after this late hour had a different vibe than the Maltese Falcon. The bar from earlier was fit for a multitude of people who came in from the streets after a long day of work or other errands. This location was sequestered in a location that was more difficult for an average person to find.
"Only a handful of people know about this place," Henry began, "I don't visit very often."
"How come?" Leon was curious.
Henry paused as he placed his hand on the inside door handle. "I'm always busy. It's hard to take the time to come by and say hi to the fellas here. I should try harder anyway."
Leon accepted this answer, and exited the vehicle with the mobster. They both migrated to a door around the back of the alleyway, which was marked with bright blue paint. Henry raised his fist and gave a rhythmic knock. There was a distinct pattern to this knock, almost like a code. A slot on the door that was eye-level with the two men slid open, another person's eyes peering through to greet them.
"What's the password?" the stranger's spoke through the door.
"Red." Henry answered with confidence.
The slot shut before a series of different locks were adjusted to allow the door to open completely. A young woman with a masculine style greeted the two comrades, but gave them looks of warning.
"I say this to all newcomers," she began with a gruff tone, "it's three drinks per person. Keep your voice down. And no fucking in the bathroom. If you have a problem with the music or the prices, you know where the door is."
Leon blinked at these strange rules, but nodded as this taciturn woman walked around the bar to retrieve two clean glasses from underneath the shelving area. He found a stool and sat down, Henry doing the same shortly after.
Once the two glasses landed on two coasters upon the bar, the woman leaned over to stare intently at the two men. Leon stared at all the different bottles behind her, trying to figure out what drink stood out to him the most.
"Everything here is on tap," she started, "none of that bottled bullshit."
Leon, overwhelmed by his choices, stammered, "I'll take water, please."
The woman almost scowled at him until Henry placed his order, "Sex on the beach," he grinned, "hold the beach."
"Cut that shit out." the bartender frowned, even with a hint of jest in her voice. She began to mix his drink, pouring in all these different types of alcohol and juices in an orderly fashion to give it the distinct gradient of an orange sunset. She slid the drink in front of Henry, then proceeded to pour ice water into Leon's glass with a judging look in her features.
"Five bucks," she said, holding out her hand towards Henry. "I assume you're the one paying."
"You assumed right." Henry took some cash out of his pocket, putting a little extra on top to cover her tip.
Leon drank the water that was graciously given to him, the cold sensation cooling him down from the second-hand embarrassment from Henry's comment. He thought he'd be free from the shroud of perversion for the night, but he thought wrong.
"Refreshing?" Henry cocked an eyebrow with sarcasm.
"Good enough." Leon shrugged, concerned about more pressing matters than his choice of beverage.
Henry could read this. "You look like you have something on your mind. Wanna talk about it?" As he asked, his hand was placed diligently against his glass of Sex on the Beach. The hunter's gaze travelled down the other man's arm to meet the object he grasped, and felt flushed upon remembering its name. He took another swig of cold water.
Music played from a jukebox on the other side of the room, just three tables from the main bar area. A tune with a snazzy saxophone could be heard coming through the speakers, a raspy voice recorded over these distinct sounds. Other than the gruff woman behind the bar with eyes like a hawk, the grand majority of the patrons at this bar were men of differing ages. They carried themselves quietly, and some even congregated to a table of two or three. Their conversations were hushed, giving some sense of secrecy among the men. Leon found himself gazing around for far too long, as a table of men turned to glance at him vigilantly.
His eyes averted back to his glass of water to watch the ice cubes bob around with every gentle movement. He could see Henry partaking in his fruity drink from the corner of his eye.
The bottom of the curved glass landed on the coaster before he began to speak. "I'm interested to hear more about you, Leon. You don't see a lot of folks from Europe just casually drop into Empire Bay. This place isn't really a vacation spot, you know."
"Anything could be considered a vacation spot, given the traveler is relaxed." Leon didn't meet his eyes with Henry's yet.
"You don't seem relaxed." Henry tilted his head, his eyes skimming Leon's form intently. "There's gotta be a different reason you're here. You said your friend is in the city, right?"
Leon sucked on his teeth before answering. "I wouldn't exactly call him my friend." He stared ahead and drank his water.
Henry's face continued to stay neutral with his response, but his eyes widened with some level of surprise. He let a soft chuckle before taking his drink into his hands before leaning in closer to the young vampire hunter.
"Tell me more about this friend of yours," Henry's eyes shone with intense curiosity even as the rest of his face remained still in the midst of conversation.
Leon set his glass down, and gulped. "It's complicated - every time I get close to him, he runs. There's always something going on with him, and he feels the need to escape every time I confront him with our... issues ."
"I don't think he's worth the time," Henry added with a matter-of-fact attitude, "especially if he's the type to puss out like that. Why continue chasing this asshole around when you can be in the company of someone who actually gives a shit about what you think and feel?"
"It's not that easy." Leon's eyebrows furrowed, his mood darkening with the continuous talk about Dracula.
"Well," Henry leaned in closer, his voice dropped into what sounded like a purr, " I'm easy."
Leon had no idea what he meant, and just stared back at him with total confusion. His mind failed to piece together the meaning of this dialogue, but decided that it may have been time to just be straightforward.
"The man I'm speaking in regards to is my nemesis," Leon outwardly explained, "he's no actual friend of mine. I meant that in, I suppose, an ironic sense. In fact, he's dangerous."
Henry's attempted seduction wore off as he leaned back in his stool. "I'm sorry, nemesis ?"
Leon gave a nod to verify his statement. "At one point in our lives we were close acquaintances. That changed very recently when he made the decision to damn his own existence and become a monster."
The mobster was shocked to hear Leon speak of this other person in such a manner. "I can't exactly imagine it's easy for him." Henry spoke with slight disappointment in his tone.
"I hope it's not." Leon's brow furrowed. "He stabbed me in the back once - I can't let that happen again. I need to be ready for him before he can make his attack, before he can hurt another innocent."
Henry's face twisted with confusion at this point. "Jesus. What the fuck did this guy do to you?"
"Broke my heart," Leon explained, "and destroyed the lives of those closest to me. It's only a matter of time before he does it again. That's why I need to find him. He could be anywhere, plotting humanity's downfall with a bloodthirsty grin on his face."
"Those are some fighting words," Henry tried not to chuckle as Leon's animosity proved somewhat amusing to him, but he was led into another question, "Now, when you say he's plotting our downfall, what exactly are you talking about? Is he some kind of terrorist?"
"Something like that." Leon answered, startling the other man with his dry honesty. "Terror is definitely his strong suit. He leaves destruction and death in his wake. Who knows how many lives he may have taken by now?"
Henry sat back and stared at Leon with worry in his gaze, but was quick to hide it once more. "Shit… that's big news." One's first instinct would be to bring information about a terrorist to the attention of law enforcement. Given Henry's current lifestyle, that was out of the question. "What're you gonna say to this bastard when you see him again?"
Leon's eyes raised to the ceiling in a pensive gesture. "It won't be so much what I'll say , but rather what I'll do ." His voice dropped with malevolence.
Henry raised the mixed beverage to his lips to hide his smile. Hearing the steadfast, young vagabond with an all-around positive attitude talk about his plans for revenge was hilarious to him. Especially with a mess of bright, glamorous hair that added to the juxtaposition. It took everything in the mobster not to reach over and playfully tussle his locks between his fingers. It would have been an attempt to try and cheer him up, but that wouldn't go over real well, given the tense atmosphere he created around himself.
The vampire hunter returned his mind to the present moment. "I know you didn't bring me here to discuss him. I shouldn't allow him to occupy my mind, but I'd feel guilty if I do otherwise; so many lives are at stake. I can't avoid this. That's why I'm going to need your help to-"
As Leon spoke, a random patron from the bar came up from behind Henry and started to massage his shoulders. The vampire hunter's voice trailed off when he saw this exchange happen. The taller gentleman, who appeared to be wearing some sort of tacky Western outfit, seemed to enjoy himself. Henry tensed up rather than sink into the patron's grasp, which caused the man to withdraw his hands.
The mobster spun around in a hostile manner, before calling out the man behind him. "Keep your fuckin' hands off of me, man!"
This was when the bartender was alerted. She gnashed her teeth and glared down the man in the Western getup. "God damn it, Gabe, what did I tell you about doing that shit at my bar!?"
Teetering backwards with his hands up in defense, the man uttered, "What? I thought this was the kind'a place to do that sort of thing. Really messed up that you'd put a restriction on hooking up, Jen."
"Just get the fuck out," the bartender shot back with no hesitation, "before you get the rest of us in trouble. First and last warning."
As the drunken idiot meandered out of the bar towards the exit, Henry muttered under his breath. "Oh Madone, what an asshole."
Leon was stunned at the entire exchange, his widened eyes meeting Henry's. "What was the meaning of that?"
Henry felt his chest tighten. "You mean that guy? He comes around a lot just to mess with people here. I have a feeling he's sneaking in his own booze - the three drink maximum shouldn't get a man that size as wasted as he was."
"That," Jen added, "and you could smell it. I think his nose got bigger and redder since the last time he came around here."
"I thought I was the only one who noticed." Henry chuckled, trying to avoid giving an explanation.
"What is this place?" the vampire hunter pondered aloud, before trying to reevaluate his surroundings again. He turned around while still seated before the bar, his eyes darting around at the various different men who occupied the space.
Henry saw what he was doing, and placed his hand on his bicep. "Hey, look - I'm sorry. This clearly isn't your scene."
"Why have you brought me here?" Leon turned back to him with uncertainty in his features. "What kind of place would allow for this type of thing to happen?"
"Let's just get out of here," Henry began ushering him away from the bar before he came to any realizations. "Jen, thanks for everything. Give me a call if that dipshit comes back again."
"No need." Jen raised a metal baseball bat from beneath the bar. A chain coiled the elongated weapon. "I have Alice here to protect me."
Leon was the first to make it to the doorway, to which he exited with Henry close by him. The mobster tried hard not to stare him down, but he couldn't help but try and decipher what thoughts may have been going through the younger man's head. In actuality, the vampire hunter had just been concerned for the safety of his other friend.
"I don't think I want to go back in there again," he began, "I would rather go back to the other place. The smoke is rancid, but at least no one tries to grab you…"
"I held my own," Henry shrugged, "I'm not too messed up about it."
"If anyone approached me with the intent to cause discomfort" Leon attested in a scathing tone, "I wouldn't hesitate to use force. Let's hope I don't have to see that happen again."
Henry felt a cold rush creep up his spine, accompanied by a twist in his stomach. He swallowed the lump of disappointment that sat in his throat, all while maintaining his calm composure. "Again - not your scene. I'm completely fine with that." There was a twinge of pain to his tone, masking it with great difficulty.
The two finally made it to Henry's car and climbed inside. With the engine starting, the two traveled away from the secretive bar on the backside of the alleyway. For several painstaking minutes, the two rode in silence. Henry's grasp on the steering wheel was tense, only allowing his thumbs to stroke the slick chrome. He kept his eyes on the road, but he was very adamant in not glancing over towards Leon, who was staring through the passenger window. His gaze focused on the lights passing by as they sped up over the bridge.
Finally having to break the silence after those several unbearable minutes, Henry shyly stated, "My place is still open for you to crash for a few nights while you figure things out. No obligation, obviously."
Leon didn't take his eyes off the passing lights stretching by his vision. "I'll think about it for another night while I reside at Joe's place of residence."
"Okay," Henry replied with a dulled tone, his posture settling into dejection. Doubt filled his mind, causing him to feel sick.
The remainder of their path to Joe's was filled with silence. Once arriving, Leon stepped from the passenger side of the car, seemingly rushing to get back inside. Henry prepared himself for Leon to slam the door, but was surprised when the younger man turned around halfway to at least look at him.
"I suppose I should thank you for providing me company while I waited for Joe to finish out his affairs." Leon graciously mentioned.
"Anything. But, uh…" He shifted uncomfortably. "I would appreciate it if you didn't mention where we were tonight," He requested this with an air of desperation in his tone. "The guys can't know about that place. It's kind of a secret."
"I get it." the vampire hunter finished, before exiting the vehicle. "Stay safe, and watch out for vampires out there."
Henry chuckled weakly, appreciating the younger man's attempt at lightening the moment. "I'll wait out here with the engine running in case you walk in on an encore."
Rolling his eyes, Leon exited the vehicle and walked with confidence towards the doorway to Joe's apartment. Henry waited a few minutes, just in case his theory was correct. After some time, he figured everything was in the clear before pulling out of the driveway.
Meanwhile, Leon had successfully made it back into his other colleague's apartment, shutting the door behind himself quietly. With light footsteps, he found his place on the sofa. When he rolled onto his back, he winced as he felt a hard object prod into him.
"What the…?" he reached beneath his jacket and withdrew his whip. Sighing at his own carelessness, he placed the whip on the floor for added security and comfort. Not too long after, he snapped into a deep slumber, his worries fading away into the glowing darkness behind his eyelids.