(A/n: Please enjoy)


Chapter 45: It Begins

Voices speaking in unison are the very first thing to greet Tweek's ears, one being louder than the other yet both are incomprehensible. He disregards them and tries to fall back asleep, presuming that it's just Kyle and Kenny talking to each other. He feels the redhead suddenly start squirming, seemingly trying to sit up without disturbing him. It can't be morning already, can it?

The voice that was actually amplified by a microphone didn't have too much to say, and a 'CLICK' that follows indicates as such.

Kenny mumbles a bemused complaint, then silence engulfs the room. Shortly after the announcement, every single door - except theirs - along the hallway begins to open one by one, reluctantly; a flood of bewildered mutters and griping dissipating the brief awkwardness.

Tweek scrunches up his face at the commotion, a small groan leaving his lips. He doesn't want to get up, even though he feels well-rested. He never would've thought that sleeping in someone's arms would be so comforting, it felt weird at first but quickly changed. He felt safe and relaxed. Unfortunately such a tranquil slumber didn't abate a tight pinch wallowing inside his stomach, and he nearly whines. He's hungry, however it isn't food that he wants, and surprisingly not coffee either. It's blood. He doesn't know why the craving is stronger than it's ever been before, feeling as though he's been turned all over again. Perhaps if it weren't for the third presence in the room, he wouldn't have the overwhelming urge to pounce on him and drink him dry...

"Wa- -p Twee-." Weakly clutching the bed sheets, Tweek tries to restrain himself the best he can while still being in a drowsy daze, his ears failing to interpret what was said to him completely. A sudden ticklish touch combs through his wild blonde locks, making him flinch. "Waaake uuup." This time he heard the redhead more clearly, only because he whispered directly in his ear.

Blushing, Tweek still feels disinclined to move let alone crack an eye open, but since there was an announcement - although he doesn't know the reason for it - he does as sweetly commanded. He sits up rubbing his eyes, feeling his cheeks heating up even more when he sees Kenny and...Stan sitting on the bed across from him and Kyle. Despite his flushed face, Tweek instinctively narrows his eyes into a scowl full of intense resentment. Wincing, Stan bites his bottom lip and looks away. Kenny notices with a frown, but says nothing.

"We have to head down to the auditorium," Kyle informs, placing a palm over Tweek's fist. Blinking away the anger, Tweek looks over at his boyfriend, feeling the lingering enmity melt away at the small smile on his alluring face. Forget blood, Tweek has a new urge now. "Let's go get dressed."

Fighting not to express the resurfacing envy, Kenny closes his eyes and stands up uncrossing his arms, not wanting to see another affectionate moment shared between the couple for a third time. "We'll be waiting out in the hall." Opening his eyes halfway, he ambles towards the door. Grabbing his water bottle, Stan trails after him.

Still holding hands, Kyle gets out of bed first then gently pulls Tweek out afterwards. Both smiling at each other with a light blush.

Pulling the door back, Kenny and Stan step out into the empty hallway, and lean against the wall next to the room. After only a mere second, for some odd reason a foreboding draft brushes past Kenny, instantly putting his senses on high alert. The vibrating rumble of thunder worsens the feeling. He glimpses down both ends of the corridor, spotting no one nor nothing the sensation could be originating from.

"It's just like I thought," Stan utters in a soft dejected tone, slumping his posture. "He hates me. There's no way he'll accept my apology."

Pushing the uneasiness aside despite it doubling, Kenny shoves his hands into his pants pockets as he looks at the evidently pale noirette throughout the corner of his eye. "But it's still better than not giving him one right?"

Stan thins his lips into a line. "Yeah, but...did you not see the way he glared at me?" He clenches his water bottle with a shudder. "If you or Kyle hadn't of been in there, he probably would've killed me on the spot."

Feeling his frown deepening slightly, Kenny pushes himself off the wall to face him. "You don't wanna let this opportunity go to waste do you? This just might be the only chance you'll have to being this close to apologizing to him." Stan grimaces at the truth in his statement. "Just tell him all that you told me yesterday. It'll probably take some time for him to forgive you, but if he doesn't, well, at least you told him. And that's all that matters." After a passing moment, Stan looks at him with an uncertain expression on his face. Kenny musters up a small encouraging smile.

It doesn't take long for Stan to perceive the lingering jealousy clouding the blonde's eyes, or did it perhaps increase? Stan feels twice as troubled and selfish now after reacknowledging it. He's honestly amazed, yet also confused at how selfless the vampire is - trying to help him solve his problem before his own. "Kyle would be an idiot for not cherishing an honest guy like Kenny more." Stan gives the vampire teen a grateful smile in return, no longer anxious. "You're right, thanks Kenny."

An abrupt look of bewilderment shows on Kenny's face, taking Stan aback. "W-what's the matter?" Blinking his eyes back to normal with a few flutters, Kenny tightens his fists, willing for the all too familiar warmth inside his chest to recede before he replies. But it doesn't- or rather it refuses to, and he presses his lips together with furrowed eyebrows. Stan observes him in concern and returning confusion, wondering what caused him to appear startled all of a sudden.

Approaching footsteps sound from within the room, soon revealing Tweek and Kyle wearing casual clothes, the redhead closing the door behind them as they walk out. They also sense the same apprehension in the same point in time Kenny did not even five minutes ago, Kyle narrowing his eyes attentively while Tweek scans around in a panic for the source.

Softening his expression, Kyle grabs the paranoid teen's hand, and gives it a reassuring squeeze, calming Tweek down slowly but surely. Kyle looks at Stan and Kenny, getting the suspicion that something else entirely is bothering his childhood friend when he sees his features. His face changes into a frown of wonder. "What's wrong?"

Kenny shakes his head, and dips his chin down to hide his eyes behind blonde fringes of hair. "It's nothing. Let's go." He saunters past them, the three following after him with a bit of a delay. As the group of four wander towards the auditorium, their footfalls and the rain sounding over the tense silence surrounding them, Stan ponders voicing out his apology to the vampire he's staring at a few steps away. It has to be done before they reach their destination. He drops his gaze to the floor.

"C'mon, man up!" Stan takes in a deep breath, clutching his beverage and curling his other hand into a shaky fist. He exhales. "..Tweek...I'm sorry." A strike of lightning and thunder came in just as he spoke, but he's sure he was heard. He forces himself to continue talking, hoping Tweek is listening to him. "I'm sorry for...not telling you about my escape plan, and for..also coming up with it before you had even turned. I honestly didn't think it would come to that so soon, but I didn't want me or anyone else to end up in the same situation as you did...or maybe even worse...I was scared." He pauses, raising his arms to hug himself in a self-comforting embrace. "And I know now that it was very self-centered of me, despite me being worried about my friends also. I just wanted to get outta here, more than anything." Stan stops walking, lifting his head to look at Tweek, his sapphire eyes appearing glossy under the high ceiling lights. "You have every right to be mad at me, and as for the others..I wanna apologize on their behalf. It's not that they didn't wanna tell you about it, hell they weren't even that keen on the idea like I was. Pip even got pissed off at me when I thought of using the vampire hunter to help us." He sees Tweek stop after taking one more step, forcing Kyle to do the same. Kenny had long since stopped when he heard Tweek's name being said, currently facing Stan's direction with a very faint upward curl on his lips. Even from a slight distance it looks strained. Stan clenches arms lightly. "I don't expect you to forgive me..or care really about my apology. Just know...that I am deeply sorry for my selfish behavior, and if there's any way I can make it up to you..." He nips his bottom lip, finding Tweek's lack of a reaction highly nerve-racking. Guess he really doesn't care...

Once again, only the rushing downpour and the moderately frequent thunderclaps outside fill the unnerving silence.

Frowning, Kyle observes Tweek's face, just now noticing the trembling in his hand. "Tweek..." He says softly. Then he comes to the realization that Stan did not once mention his fault in Tweek getting bitten in the first place, which he still feels greatly regretful for. In fact, he doesn't think he even apologized to Tweek properly after that. Instead, he expressed his guilt in an inconsiderate and shy fashion. He looks away with a self-berating scowl. Kenny frowns at his castigating countenance, but then regards Tweek's own.

The other blonde appears to be struggling on what to do, his eyes wide and quivering as they gape at the floor. He wasn't prepared for an earnest apology from Stan, and now his emotions are all jumbled up. He doesn't know how or what to feel..but one thing is certain: Stan was determined to leave this school, with or without him.

Tweek grits his teeth letting out a low growl, his pointed canines clamping down hard enough to draw blood from both sides of his mouth. He balls his free hand into a tight fist, itching to punch a certain someone.

Sensing his bubbling rage, Kyle keeps a firm grip on their interlocked hands and Kenny narrows his eyes, ready to intervene if things get ugly. "Tweek, calm down." Kyle's words fell upon deaf ears. He never thought the always overly-suspicious blonde could make such an angry face like this, and it's actually pretty scary. He steps in front of Tweek to grasp his other hand, gripping it just as securely so he doesn't try to harm Stan. He stares into ire-filled blue-green orbs, a stream of tears trailing down the teen's cheeks. It seems he doesn't even see Kyle standing this close to him.

As the redhead tries to calm his boyfriend down with more pacifying words, Kenny approaches Stan. He looks at Tweek for the brief second it takes until he passes by him, his frown deepening sympathetically. Once he's near the noirette, he latches an arm across his shoulder. "Let's get away from here while Kyle tries to keep him under control."

Nodding stiffly, Stan lets Kenny usher them further down the hallway, paling and nearly agitating his arms under the intensifying pressure once he feels the fierce aura radiating from Tweek the second their shoulders align. "Just keep walking," he hears Kenny advise in a whisper, not daring to look back although he wants to. He clenches his eyes shut to steer himself from looking, welcoming Kenny's protective hold. He suddenly gets the strangest feeling of snuggling closer to Kenny, but quickly pushes the notion away, however not the sprouting blush.

*In A Separate Hallway*

"W-we shouldn't be doin' this," says a timid Southern accented voice. "Seriously guys-"

"Will you relax?" Exasperates another voice, shooting the tuft of blonde haired boy, who's walking beside him a light glare. "Jeez, since when did you start caring about not breaking the rules?"

"This is an important meetin'!" The blonde nearly shouts, annoyed.

"Yeah, to those who gives a shit," scoffs a deep monotoned voice, the teen's hands in his pants pockets. He no longer cares about getting revenge on the bastard vampire hunter, there's no point now since he's going to be killed today.

"Fine." Narrowing his sky blue eyes, Butters comes to a stop. Craig and Clyde do the same when they notice, turning to look at him. "You two idiots can go on ahead. I'm done gettin' into trouble cuz ya'll don't listen!" And with that he turns and stomps away grumbling under his breath, too upset to teleport to the auditorium.

"Butters!" Clyde calls out, rolling his eyes.

"Let 'em go." Craig resumes his walk. "He'll come crawling back once he cools down."

Matching his pace beside the noirette again, Clyde scratches the back of his head, doubtful. "I dunno man, he legit looked pissed off at us this time. Maybe we should at least see-"

"If you wanna follow him, then go. I won't stop you either."

Clyde eyes him with knitted eyebrows. "Are you alright? You're kinda extra snappy today."

Craig makes a face, his fists noticeably curling a little bit tighter in his pockets. That's a question Craig himself wants to know the answer to, perhaps this unrelenting chill is the cause? It hasn't been sitting well with him the moment he felt it upon entering the hallway some minutes ago, well technically after they'd fled from an administrator who'd taken down the chains to their room. After awhile Craig had asked Clyde and Butters about it since they seemed unaware, confused even, and their response confirmed it. They felt nothing.

Craig hardens his glare nervously. "Just what the hell is it? Am I goin' crazy?"

"Hehehe."

Craig goes into a standstill, eyes growing in shock. Coming to a halt almost immediately afterwards, Clyde becomes increasingly worried at his nonplussed expression. "What is it?"

Blinking, Craig directs his wide amber eyes at the brunette. "You didn't hear that?"

Clyde lifts an eyebrow. "Hear what?"

"Hehehehehe."

"That!" Craig starts glancing around frantically, his hands darting out of his pockets. "Someone- a little girl's giggling!"

"Dude I don't hear anything, you're startin' to freak me out." Clyde inspects their surroundings calmly, though equally on edge. "There's nobody else he-" His eyes widen at a fast approaching shadowy figure, a pair of glowing white eyes trained on him.

A deafening 'SPLURT' quickly follows, then all is semi-silent. A thunderous boom sounds overhead.

Craig becomes as stiff as a statue, only able to gather up some courage to move as a recognizable scent begins to flood the frigid air. "Clyde..?" The first thing he sees is blood splattered across the wall, the large amount of the fluid propels him to hurriedly turn toward the source, his eyes shaking and dulling in color.

"C-Clyde...?"

All he sees is a sprayful of red shooting upward from the area where Clyde's head is supposed to be, his body eerily standing upright and completely motionless. He's so focused on one of his boyfriend's headless corpse that he overlooks a dark being stood near the body, their vibrant white eyes shifting to the color of neon green and staring intently at Craig from within their hood.

"This is merely the beginning of your torment, Craig Tucker."

With a masculine evil chuckle, they vanish, and Clyde's body takes his departure as it's cue to fall to the floor. Landing with a hard thud in a vast, thick puddle of blood.

"..." Craig is frozen in place, not believing the horrid scene before him. Through his blurring peripheral, something lays unmoving on the floor by the other side of the wall. Another pool of blood forming although small underneath it.

The tears set themselves free. One of Craig's legs twitches as if it's coming out from it's comatose state, then manages to take a baby step forward, his other leg repeating the process. It feels like an hour has elapsed by the time he lessens the distance between him and the obscured object.

But the one thing he can detect, even if it's very bleary...is brown.

Craig sinks down onto his knees, unfocused eyes reaching out to grab what was once attached to a body. His fingers jolt after a mere momentary touch, but he still seizes it, his hands shaking. The feeling of icy cold blood doesn't prevent Craig from holding Clyde's head close. Gritting his teeth, he shuts his eyes and hunches over releasing an anguished scream.

*In The Auditorium*

Boisterous chatter echos throughout the massive theater room, the adults occupying the first few rows of chairs while the rest are taken by the students. Micheal and Vincent stand side by side on the stage. Just one or two minutes ago Micheal informed 'everybody' that the vampire hunter would be escorted down to their location shortly.

However there's been no sign of them as of yet.

His arms crossed and his face showcasing restlessness, Micheal looks over at Vincent. "What's taking them so long? It's been five minutes!" He shouts, hushed.

Vincent's smile broadens a smidgen, his arms folded behind his back and his closed eyes facing the expansive crowd. "I do wonder what the holdup is." The brightness on his face dims. "As well as the current whereabouts of your two assistants." His tone was a little less cheerful, sounding suspecting even.

A flash of shock crosses over on Micheal's face, and he looks away. He'd forgotten that Henrietta and Luther were going to devise a plan with Kurai, wherever they might be. He hasn't seen them again since this morning. "Ah them, to be honest I have no idea where they are."

"Hmm," Vincent hums, his lips straightening into an unreadable line. There's a pause of silence between them. "Things might not go accordingly, but oh well. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to change things up a bit." "Mind if I ask you a quick question?"

Micheal gives him a raised eyebrow. "What is it?"

Vincent turns his head to meet his gaze. "Did you know," thunder sounds nearby, making the present spreading grin on Vincent's face portentous. "That the chamber the vampire hunter was kept in is just below the auditorium?"

Micheal blinks his eyes dubiously at both his smile and question. "How-" His eyes expand with a start.

A purple pentagram springs forth from behind them in the middle of the partly opened curtains, brightening at an alarming rate.

Everyone gasps upon sensing a powerful presence of magic, all except one who's sat in the very back near the wall, a spot where the light fails to reach him.

Micheal spins around to witness the unforeseen symbol. "This spell, it can only be summoned by-" He shields his eyes with an arm when it emits a burst of air.

Vincent goes into a fit of laughter, relishing in the screams and curses of panic and perplexity.

"Everyone get outta here!" Micheal exclaims. Not one person wastes time doing as told, pushing people aside so they can make it out safely. Not caring about no one but themselves at the moment. However three administrators, as well as one student remain seated.

A man with his blonde-silver hair blowing wildly in the breeze pushes his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, an unknown gleam flickering in the lenses. "Well zhis is quite unexpected," mutters Sullivan, his big brown book resting on top of his lap.

Christophe, who's sitting behind him a seat away with Damien next to him takes out a cigarette from his pants pocket, and sticks it in between his lips. He faces it's butt towards Damien, and with a huff he holds up one finger to light it with a small blue flame. It withstands the strong wind around them. "Tch, I knew somezhin' wasn't right way before we came in 'ere," Christophe grumbles, scowling at the long haired vampire on the stage.

"Hey at least you can be included in on the action," Damien tries to encourage, which puts a pleased smirk on the Frenchman's face.

"And I take it you're interested too?" Christophe calls out, looking over at the individual he's addressing. Damien and Sullivan follow his gaze.

The instant they spot him, the teen's luminous purple eyes narrow in a smug manner then they disappear from sight.

Sullivan's grey-blue eyes darken, and he looks away. "Track," he utters quietly. A black gas starts seeping out from the pages of his book, it swirls up into the air - unfazed by the gale - then darts out of the room in pursuit of it's unsaid target.

"And zhat's why 'e's zhe last of 'is kind," Christophe points out scornfully, he diverts his attention back to the stage as does Damien. "Zhey were nozhing but a bunch of fucking snakes." He shakes his head.

"Seems he and Mr. Valentine have some sort of history togezher," Sullivan speculates.

"What the hell are you guys still doing here?!" Micheal yells in their direction. He suddenly feels an oncoming strike aiming for the back of his head from his right, and he swiftly dodges by hopping back, glaring coldly at his attacker. "So that pentagram must be some sort of a transporting spell. But how did it heal all of his wounds?"

The man's colorless skin has been rid of all the blood, bruises, and burns, his teal colored eyes appear practically lifeless. He's still in his stripped attire consisting of only his white dress shirt and pants, a button or two undone on his shirt. However he somehow has his gloves and black dress shoes back on his hands and feet.

"Oh don't mind us, we're just enjoying the show," Damien grins cheekily, waving. Christophe face-palms while Sullivan shakes his head, though he finds the noirette's wisecrack humorous.

Vincent chuckles, his platinum colored locks fluttering violently in the relentless gale. "Sorry, but I'm afraid it's time for a very long commercial break." Without facing their way as Damien makes another comical remark, he removes one arm from behind his back, and opens his palm out towards the three men. A reddish-pink aura emanates around his hand, then he slowly moves it to the side as if he's wiping something off on an imaginary window. Micheal watches the two teachers and librarian disappear as if they were transported to a different dimension, leaving only tiny bright red particles in their place that quickly fades away.

He returns his narrowing mint-green eyes back to Vincent. "You'd better explain what the fuck's going on."

"He doesn't have explain anything to you."

"Christopher stop." The man goes rigid at the curt order, who was about to lunge at Micheal again for his rudeness. "This is between Micheal and I, do not interfere."

Chris shrinks back, but his scowl remains fixated on the other black haired male. "Y-yes boss."

"Good boy. Now I believe you have matters of your own to attend to don't you?"

Chris' eyes widen for a short moment in recollection, he nods. "Where is he?" He demands from the Principal.

"Like I'd tell you," Micheal sneers.

Chris bares his fangs angrily, his fists visibly trembling. But then he suddenly smirks. "Hmph that's fine, I still have a job to finish so I'll just save that bastard for last." He turns to Vincent and bows. "Excuse me." Standing up straight, Chris leaves the area in a black cloud of smoke. It gets effortlessly blown away.

"Son of a bitch," Micheal execrates. "I know the adults can handle themselves, and maybe some of the students too. But as for the humans..." An uneasy drop of sweat rolls down his cheek.

Vincent smiles in amusement. "I'd focus more on yourself if I were you."

Micheal sharpens his glare. "I don't need or want your concern." The beautiful man's smile falters at his harsh tone. "How're we gonna settle this?"

A peculiar grin develops on Vincent's face at his query. "Hand to hand combat, just like the good ol' days."

Refusing to show the tiniest bit of the accumulating nervousness, Micheal cracks his knuckles. "Yeah, except this ain't sparring practice!" He charges at Vincent, a fist aimed right for his self-assured face.

(A/n: I hope you enjoyed and next chapter will be up soonish)