(A/n: Trigger warning: mention of child kidnapping and experimentation)

Chapter 35: Aftermath

*Two Days Later*

The sound of multiple footsteps echo down a flight of stone steps, the glow from lit sconces on both sides of the stone walls vaguely highlighting five vampires' silhouettes in their dull amber lighting.

"When did you know there was something like this in the building?" Damien asks Michael, who is leading them all downwards.

"It was something I discovered one day," Michael answers, briefly recalling inspecting the black bookshelf in his office. It didn't belong to him. It was hard not to notice the red book out of all the brown and black books on the bottom shelf. Perhaps he knew what hid behind the bookshelf, which was why he kept it in the room. Wanting Michael's curiosity to get the better of him, which didn't take long to happen.

"Oh, okay. So, who's gonna force him to talk?" Damien asks. "Can I do it?" He volunteers eagerly. The group step off of the last step and then walk down a long corridor, more sconces are stationed directly across from each other along the walls though there are very few, and are separated a meter apart from the ones on the same side of the wall. At the very end of the hall is a lone, maroon-colored wooden door, embedded in its middle is a pristine 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 and Christophe's disliking.

"You've already had your fun, it's my turn now." Both noirettes glare at each other. Henrietta, who's stuck in between them, rolls her eyes with a sigh.

"Stop acting like children you two. It's obviously going to be me who does it."

"What do you plan to do? Nag 'im?" Christophe teases.

"Maaaybe," Henrietta simply says.

They soon reach the door. Michael knew he was going to regret bringing these four down here with him, but he only did so they'd know where the vampire hunter is being detained. He turns to face them. "I didn't say any of you were going to interrogate him."

Damien, Kurai, and Christophe appear disappointed. "Aw c'mon, don't be like that," Damien says. "At least let us hit him once, except Kurai." The Asian vampire glares at him again.

Michael shakes his head. "We won't get anywhere if you guys actually end up killing him. I'll get him to talk."

Damien is about to protest again, but Henrietta beats him by speaking first. "Fine, but you're telling me everything that he tells you if you manage to get him to spill anything," she demands before walking away.

Damien starts walking backwards. "But if you fail to get him to talk..." He cracks his knuckles on each hand with a grin, then turns around stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. Christophe and Kurai, who are both looking displeased, make their out as well.

Michael watches them go until they're gone up the stairs. He returns his attention to the door, frowning at the cross. Red suddenly replaces mint-green in his irises, prompting the silver cross to glow. It becomes bright to the point of Michael having to close and shield his eyes. Once the light dims completely, he opens his eyes which have returned to their original color whilst lowering his arm, watching the door open by itself. The cross is gone.

It stops after opening halfway, it's absolutely dark inside, plus it smells God-awful, like burnt skin.

Grimacing at the smell, he advances into the chamber, pushing the door open all of the way, his eyes instantly adjusting to the darkness. He smirks upon seeing a figure planted against the wall slightly high in the air, the man had been stripped from his trench coat, fedora, gloves, socks, and dress shoes. He's only wearing his white dress shirt and pants. Both his arms and legs are spread apart, and bounded by silver shackles clamped around his wrists and ankles, which are the sources of the rancid stench.

Michael approaches the vampire hunter, who doesn't acknowledge him until he forces him to look at him by gently lifting his chin. His smirk broadens at his lifeless teal eyes.

"Alright, Chris, it's been two days now. It's time for you to start talkin'." When he doesn't get any sort of a reaction, he snaps his fingers with his other hand directly in Chris' face. However, the man still remains silent, he doesn't even blink. Michael narrows his eyes. "Oi! I know you hear me. You're going to talk, and I have no problems forcing you to." Michael releases Chris' chin, his patience beginning to wear thin. "Maybe I should've let Kurai stay since he's this guy's initial tormentor." He still wonders what Kurai did to shatter the vampire hunter's arrogance. He shakes his head with a sigh. "It's not a good idea to be a stubborn bastard in this situation." In one swift motion, he thrusts his fist straight into Chris' stomach. The man's eyes widen as he is unable to prevent himself from coughing up a mouthful of blood. It splatters onto Michael's arm and to the floor, but he doesn't care that his turtleneck sweater is dirtied. He expected this would happen. "You either comply or I beat you half-dead until you do," he threatens coldly.

Chris wheezes weakly through clenched teeth, blood trickling down both sides of his chin. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him and it's thanks to reliving a part of his dreadful past. "Heh, this isn't all that different from how it was at home." The main difference is that it wasn't his mot-that monster that struck him this time. Despite being greatly weakened, he curls his lips into a grin, numbing out the intense pain in his abdomen as he cranes his head to look up. "M-my mom...hits harder than you," he rasps out, chuckling though forced when he sees Michael's expression darken. "I won't tell you shit...even if you beat me to death."

Michael took that insult to heart. Yesterday in a meeting for only the faculty, Kurai told everyone that the vampire hunter was born a human. For this man to compare his strength to that of a human woman...

"Alright, then..." Michael utters dauntingly.

The faint lights within the hall seemingly become dimmer, casting the small chamber in even more darkness. Chris feels a bead of sweat slowly trailing down the side of his face and his grin wavering, looks like he struck a nerve.

"Stan, stop!"

Stan kept running, the sudden burst of adrenaline coursing throughout his body kept him going. He didn't even feel all that cold anymore, just nauseous.

Kenny didn't know why the noirette suddenly ran off, he was sensing a whirlwind of emotions going about inside of him. But there was one emotion that stood out strongly over the others, it was desperation. "He was that desperate to go home," Kenny thought sympathetically, the gap between him and Stan shortening 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 hand as he couldn't get the timing right. Once he did, Kenny seized Stan's hand, his skin concerningly warm.

Stan instantly tried to jerk his hand away, resulting in him slowing down to a halt. "L-let...go," he panted. Then he started coughing.

Kenny, not at all breathless, walked past Stan to block his path. As much as he wanted to take him to the infirmary, Dr. Kero wasn't there, and it wouldn't do Stan any good to rest in the gym. "I'm taking you to your room, you're sick."

"N-no! Let go of me!" Stan shouted, borderline hysterical as he tried even harder to free himself. Kenny didn't need to tighten his grip, he wasn't letting Stan go no matter how much he cried or begged. Not even the tears rising within his weary sapphire eyes made him want to release him, but it did cause a pang in his heart. Stan soon exhausted himself out, dropping down to his knees hanging his head low. "I don't wanna be here anymore..." Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

Kenny didn't know what to say to him, how to comfort him. Usually, he knew how or what to say to someone who was down, but in Stan's case, he didn't want to sound insensitive towards his feelings. Silently, Kenny transported the both of them to Stan's shared bedroom. The sudden transition made Stan queasy, the complete darkness of the room agitating his stomach. But instead of bile rising up to his throat, it's another bout of coughs. Gently, Kenny pulled him up on his feet and brought him over to the isolated bed, sitting him down on it, then went to turn on the ceiling light. Afterwards, he hurried into the nearest bathroom, rummaging around inside the two small drawers of the sink. He paused almost instantly, and face-palmed. "Shit, humans can't take these kinds of medicine," he realized. It's very rare for vampires to get sick, and when they do they take a special kind of medicine called blood pills.

He walked out approaching a dazed Stan. He got down on one knee, and began taking Stan's shoes off. "Get under the covers," Kenny softly ordered once he's done, setting his shoes off to the side.

Stan didn't budge. "...Why? Why's it so wrong...for us to go back home? Why are we really even here?"

Kenny didn't know how to answer any of those questions, he stood up. "I don't know." He left for the bathroom again, returning with a white towel. Kenny raised Stan's head by the chin, carefully wiping away the tear smears. Both were silent during the process.

Kenny finished drying his face. As he went to put the towel back in the bathroom, he heard Stan murmur, "Were we sent here...to become vampires?"

Kenny paused in the doorway. "That's not why at all."

"How can you be so sure? We were lied to before...Maybe we aren't here to coexist with you guys."

Kenny pressed his lips into a line, he too wanted to know the real reason as to why humans were suddenly brought here. However, there's one thing he felt certain of. "Neither of you were sent here to become vampires." He proceeded into the bathroom, first checking himself in the mirror. He really wanted to dry off and change into a new set of clothes. Pushing his blonde bangs back, he slung the towel back over the towel rack, then headed over towards the sink. He took the toothbrush and toothpaste from out of the cup, laying them down on the countertop. He turned one of the knobs for hot water, rinsed the cup out, then changed the water's temperature to cold. He filled up the cup halfway with water, then shut the faucet off.

When he came back into the room, he was glad to see Stan underneath the sheets, though he's still sitting up. He handed Stan the cup, who took it without much thought, but didn't drink from it. He stared blankly down at his reflection through the clear liquid. "There isn't any medicine you can take so tomorrow you're gonna have to go see Dr. Kero to get rid of your fever," Kenny told him. "But there is another thing I can help you with. You're gonna have to lay down."

"So, you're gonna turn me into a vampire after all," Stan claimed emotionlessly.

"I am not," Kenny said, calmly denying his crazy statement. "Just trust me, and lie down."

Still not bothering to take a sip of the water, Stan set the cup down on the nightstand and did as told. Instantly, he felt compelled to fall asleep, but the glow in Kenny's eyes kept him from doing so. He recalled seeing his eyes glowing golden-brown before, but this time they're a sunset orange. The light gleaming through his shirt was the same color as his eyes. Kenny hovered a palm radiating in a soft reddish-orange aura over Stan's forehead. In that instant, he felt his face warming up, and soon his whole body. Stan couldn't help but bask in the pleasant heat. After awhile, a question popped up in his head.

"Do you have any siblings?"

Kenny blinked at the question, he didn't expect to suddenly be asked that. "I do, a little sister and an older brother who goes here." Stan just hummed, no wonder he's taking care of him to this extent. "Do you have any?"

Stan frowned. "Just an older sister." Even though he'll never see her again, he won't ever miss her bullying.

"You can go to sleep. I won't keep this up for much longer."

Stan shook his head. He'll fight to stay awake. He's scared to dream of his home, of his parents. He didn't want to see the good moments he shared with them, even the rare ones with Shelly. It would only make him miss his home more. Before he even realized it, the tears had resurfaced within his eyes, and spilled within seconds. With a pained frown, Stan covered his face with both hands, not wanting to be seen crying again. "S-sorry," he sniffled. He felt like such a child.

"You don't need to apologize. I understand how it feels to miss home and your loved ones."

Wiping his eyes, Stan removed his hands from his face. He looked at him in confusion. "But...wait, what do you mean by that?"

Kenny's lips formed into a frown. "When I was a kid, I was kidnapped." Stan eyed him in absolute shock. "I was, I think 5 years old when two vampires suddenly ambushed me and my family one night. Those bastards were strong, they almost killed my parents and baby sister...while my older brother was gravely injured. I was taken away easily, they apparently wanted me alive and unharmed. I don't remember where they took me..." Kenny grimaced at a memory that came with his next set of words. "But I do remember being strapped to a metal table, seeing a big bright light right above my head, and...needles..." He shuddered, the glow from his eyes, torso, and palm dimming away. He was no longer focused on keeping his magic active. He lowered his hand back to his side.

"K-Kenny?"

The blonde looked at Stan, he was staring sadly into his eyes. "You don't have to tell me anymore if it's too painful for you."

Kenny felt the corners of lips curl into a small smile. "Thanks, but it's okay. Sure, I had a pretty messed up past, but...I gained something from it, and I became stronger thanks to it." He raised his hand slightly, and balled it into a fist. "Both mentally and physically. But yeah, the moral of my little story is that you'll see your family again one day, though it was a very dark way of building it up." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Sucks he didn't know how to dry himself off with own magic, he'll figure it out someday.

"I...I see," Stan demurred. "But can I ask you something?" Kenny nodded his head as he dropped his arm down. "At what age were you able to go back home?"

Kenny's expression turned dismal. "I escaped when I was eight, that's when I awakened my magic." Due to the many injections he had received at the time.

Stan frowned remorsefully at his reply. "I-I'm so sorry...I shouldn't have asked." So, he reunited with his family after three years. Stan hoped he wouldn't have to wait that long to return home. He's very glad Kenny managed to escape, but for that to happen to him in the first place...Who would've even thought...? He wondered if Kyle knew, since they're best friends. He would ask Kenny, but he didn't want to damper his mood even more.

"It's okay," Kenny said, a hollow look in his eyes. "You get some rest, and don't forget to go to the nurses office in the morning." He walked to the door.

"W-wait a sec."

Kenny stopped before the closed door, turning around to look at Stan. He sat up with a contrite frown on his face.

"I'm...sorry for running off earlier, but thanks for taking care of me."

Kenny smiled faintly. "No worries, now get some sleep." He flicked down the light switch, opened the door, and walked out closing the door behind him. He lightly pressed his back against it with a long sigh. After a few seconds, he teleported to Markus' room.

.

.

.

"Oi! Earth to Keeenny!"

Kenny blinks his eyes rapidly, being brought back to present time by the sound of Markus' voice. He's in the brunette's room, and they're both sitting next to each other on a bed. "Sorry, I was thinking about that night the vampire hunter appeared," Kenny says with a frown.

"Oh. From the way you were looking, I thought you were moping again," Markus presumes.

Kenny forces up a small smile. "Nah...I'm over that now."

Markus pats his shoulder. "Good, cuz I was running out of ideas to cheer you up." Kenny rolls his eyes. "But...when are you gonna return to your room? Don't get me wrong, I don't mind you coming here, it's just...Kyle might be worried about you."

Kenny forms his lips into a line. Markus is undoubtedly right. Kyle, at first, was being understanding and giving him his much-needed space, but the longer Kenny avoids him, it might lead to a misunderstanding. He's just not ready to talk to him again yet. "I'll go back eventually."

Markus pats his shoulder again comfortingly. "You don't need to rush. If Kyle is really worried, then he'll come to you instead."

"...Yeah..." Kenny says impassively.

Markus lowers his hand down to the bed. "Alright, since I ruined the mood, let's do somethin' to cheer you up."

Kenny looks to him with a raised eyebrow. "Like what?"

Markus blinks. "...I have no idea."

Kenny laughs.

It's two hours later when a blood coated Michael steps foot back into his office, looking immensely peeved. The prime reason he's feeling this way is because he lost control of himself. He feels so pathetic for letting a meager insult at his strength get under his skin.

He sighs as he turns around and squats down, sealing the secret passageway back up by pushing the red book back in place on the bottom shelf. "Good thing I sent Henrietta and the others away. They'd poke fun at me for getting pissed off like that." Once the bookshelf completely hides the corridor that only goes down, he notices he's not alone in his office. He turns towards his desk, sitting in his chair is Henrietta. "Why didn't you say anything?" He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't sense her presence.

"You looked like you were in a bad mood," she says observantly. "Did you kill him?"

He nears his desk shaking his head. "No, I was close to though. He refused to say anything." There's no way he's telling her that he beat the vampire hunter to the brink of death all because he insulted him.

"So, what's the next step?" Henrietta asks.

Michael's face becomes serious. "I'm gonna contact him about this, he has to have information on the vampire hunter by now. But before I do that, I need a shower and a change of clothes."

Henrietta nods in agreement. "That you do."