Chapter
2- American Vampire
Disclaimer- I don't own Underworld, any resemblance in the name of the characters is purely coincidental. (Lol)
Octavian rested his bow on the table in front of him as he waited intently for the sales assistant to reach him. He knocked his hands impatiently against the wooden counter, trying to get his attention.
"I'll be right over, sir!" The sale's assistant called. He approached, and seemed to be sizing Octavian up. "Can I help you?" He asked.
"Show me your best arrows." Octavian said bluntly.
"Well we have these carbon arrows just in from..."
"I mean your best arrows." Octavian interrupted impatiently. The store clerk looked up, obviously agitated by the interruption. He then sighed and went into the back room and brought to the counter a metal case. He struggled and barely managed to lift the box onto the counter. He unlatched the box and opened it up. There were only two arrows contained inside. Huffing triumphantly he pointed to the two arrows.
"These came in last month. Best arrows in existence on this here earth." He bragged.
"Best in the world? What do they do?" Octavian asked.
"Watch." The stores assistant said. He pressed a small release on the side of the arrow. The arrow sprang into action. The shiny metal head opened up, blades on four sides of the arrow released from the arrow tip and swung quickly from the arrows body. Small metal plates extended from the blades. "A pressure on this arrowhead springs the device. It's made to activate after it has penetrated the flesh. The metal blades shoot upwards, cutting through the flesh of the said animal. When they are fully extended these small plates extend from the blades, locking the arrow into the flesh. Full extension is four inches for each blade."
"So it can't be pulled out easily." Octavian said appreciatively. Interesting weapons these humans make, Octavian thought to himself.
"Animals aren't necessarily going to try to remove the arrow. The point is to cause maximum bleeding for a faster kill." He corrected matter-of-factly. Not too smart though.
"Who said I was hunting animals." Octavian said with a bemused smile." The Assistants face turned from cocky confidence to shock. "I was kidding. How much for the arrows?" Octavian asked.
"Uh... 300 dollars." The salesman stuttered.
"I'll take ten of them." Octavian said bluntly, putting three-thousand dollars in hundreds on the table.
"It's not safe to carry that much money around you in these parts." The assistant said, eying the countless other bills in his wallet.
"I don't like banks. I hope it won't be a problem." Octavian said, noticing the assistants gaze.
"Of course it won't." The assistant said quickly, greedily seizing the bills from the table and pocketing them. He came quickly and gave Octavian a case filled with ten arrows. Octavian smiled broadly at him, accidentally revealing his fangs for a split second. The man looked up, noticing them. Octavian quickly narrowed his smile to hide the elongated teeth.
"Here you are. Please come again."
"Uh-huh." Octavian replied dismissively, already exiting the store.
"Do you want a receipt?" The clerk called. Octavian ignored the question and made his way to the exit. Two burly hunters entered, blocking his way out. One caught sight of his bow.
"I've never seen you here before. Are you new to hunting?" one of the hunters asked.
"No." Octavian answered gruffly.
"I love your bow! Can I give it a pull?" The man asked. Octavian turned to face him, his face reflecting his lack of patience.
"Go for it." Octavian said with a smile. The man picked up the bow and began to pull back the string. The bow's limbs wouldn't bend, however. He tried again, this time he growled with exertion.
"It's locked." The hunter exclaimed, handing it back to Octavian. Octavian placed the bow in his grip and pulled back the string with ease, without changing any of its calibrations.
"Seems fine to me." He said laughingly, as he turned to the exit. Octavian walked briskly away from the store back into his small black sedan. Although day was still many hours away, Octavian was weary of the sunlight.
"I hate summer." He growled to himself.
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Sergeant George Johnson was driving towards the station when his cell phone rang. He picked up the small phone, flipped it open and placed it up to his mouth.
"Who is it?" He asked.
"It's your wife, George!" A hysterical voice cried over the phone. He jumped from the explosion of the shrill voice, and quickly thrusted his phone back into position.
"Please... not now." George pleaded, desperately.
"I swear if you don't listen to me. I'm taking the kids!" She threatened.
"I'm sorry, I have an incoming call." George replied. He hung up on his wife and shut off the phone. "God damn it!" he yelled angrily, pounding his hands on the wheel.
George bashed open the door to the police station and walked stiffly through the open hallway.
"Sir, we have a call from a store clerk." Another officer stated.
"So?" George asked bitterly.
"He said that a man wearing a black trench coat entered his store and bought three-thousand dollars worth of very lethal weaponry." The officer continued.
"Is that against the law?" George asked.
"No, sir; but the man bought it with cash. The clerk said that he had at least ten times that in his wallet." The officer said.
"You think he's a drug dealer?" George asked.
"Possibly... or engaged in another type of illegal transaction." The officer finished.
"Ok. I'll check him out." George said.
"He's driving in a black sedan, with this license plate." The officer said, handing him a slip of paper with the license plate identification on it.
"We got a name?" George asked
"None, so far."
"Any way for me to find this guy?"
"We tracked the car; there is no record of anyone purchasing it."
"Stolen?"
"It hasn't been reported stolen."
"Description?"
"He is a medium sized, white male. He has medium length black hair, green eyes, and two fanglike canine teeth." George finally reached his office and turned into it, leaving the other officer outside. He picked up a phone and began dialing.
"It's late." A voice said behind him. Joe turned to identify the speaker. It was Fred, a buddy on the force.
"You can say that again." George replied.
"What are you doing?" Fred asked.
"I'm checking out a shady character." George answered.
"Another shady character? Sometimes I wish we could have some real crime around here." Fred said jokingly. "How are you going to find him?" Fred inquired.
"I'm calling all the motels and hotels right now. If he's going to stay here he has to rest somewhere."
"How do you know that he's not just passing through?" Fred asked.
"I really don't. You're right; we don't have much to do around here." George admitted. Fred laughed and then returned to seriousness.
"Do you have a description?" Fred asked.
"Mostly an average guy, except he's got some fangs. Probably a Goth or something." George answered. At this Fred seemed to grow even more interested.
"He has pale skin?" Fred asked intently.
"Yes... why do you ask?" George inquired, looking back, only to see that Fred had already left. George shook his head and continued to call lodging after lodging. Fred was a strange character himself. He joined the department only a few years ago, and no one knew anything about him. George had been working with Fred for almost all of this time, and he knew no more than anyone else.
George was growing impatient as he neared the end of his list of lodgings. Most of the calls weren't even being answered, the others were busy. He almost gave up; but decided to call the last one on the list.
"Hello?" A man answered on the other side.
"Hello, I am Sergeant Johnson from the local police. Did you have a small black sedan pull up to your parking lot recently?" George asked.
"Wait... yes. We have." The man replied.
"Any new people check in tonight?" George pressed.
"Yes... one." The man answered.
"Was he a pale guy with a black jacket?" George asked.
"I think so." The man said after a long pause. "He isn't dangerous or anything, is he?" The man asked nervously.
"I don't think it will be a problem, I'll be right over." George said, hanging up the phone
