Chapter 44: It Begins
Tweek stirs from his sleep, feeling very well-rested despite being rudely woken up. He doesn't even recall falling back asleep. The words being transmitted through a speaker sound distinctly clear in his ears. He tries to rub his eyes, but finds it a bit difficult to move his arms. And that's when he realizes, without having to open his eyes, that he's in Kyle's embrace, who is also waking up. But Kyle practically shoots upright in bed, confusing Tweek but he first rubs his eyes before blinking them open, now understanding why Kyle sat up so quickly. There are two presences in the room, and they're both familiar to Tweek. The Principal's announcement comes to an end.
"Hey..." He heard the awkwardness in Kenny's voice.
"...Hey..." Kyle greets back just as awkwardly.
Tweek sits up, and immediately wonders why Stan is here. Sapphire eyes look into blue-green ones, Tweek instantly detecting a swirl of emotions going about in the pair, then Stan briskly looks away.
"S-so, you two heard the announcement?" Kenny asks.
Kyle, who's sporting an embarrassed frown, answers, "Yeah, we did."
Kenny nods his head, then no more words are exchanged. The silence between the four becomes so uncomfortably tense that it visibly shows on all of their faces. A boom of thunder only makes the atmosphere worse.
"W-we're gonna get dressed," Kyle says removing the covers off himself and Tweek.
"We'll wait for you two out in the hall." Kenny gets up, and heads for the door with Stan following suit.
While Kyle gets out of bed, Tweek watches them leave before doing the same, both heading towards their respective dressers. He has a hunch as to why Stan was in their room, and it's thanks to the two main emotions he sensed from within the noirette: guilt and nervousness.
He came to apologize to him.
His expression neutral, Tweek grabs a set of casual clothes and underwear, then walks to his and Kenny's bathroom.
Out in the empty hallway, Kenny and Stan are leaning against the wall next to the bedroom door. All of a sudden, a foreboding draft brushes past Kenny, instantly putting his senses on high alert. The rumble of thunder worsens the feeling. He glances down both ends of the hallway, spotting no one nor nothing the sensation could've originated from.
"What the hell was that just now?" Stan asks dubiety. Kenny looks at him, thinking he felt the strange sensation as well, until he follows up with another question. "Why was it super awkward in there?" He locks eyes with Kenny. "Are you and Kyle not on good terms or somethin'?"
Kenny stares at the wall across from him with a frown. "No, it's...it's nothing. We're still friends."
Stan obviously doesn't believe him, but he doesn't push him to give him an honest reply. Rather, he wants an answer to his question before the sudden announcement. "Okay, well, are you gonna tell me what you three talked about in the infirmary last week? I don't know about you, but seeing Tweek and Kyle acting...more than just friends after what Kyle did to him twice is hella bizarre."
"That's because none of it was Kyle's fault." Bewildered by what he just said, Stan regards Kenny's facial expression, appearing as if he didn't mean to blurt that out loud. He opens his mouth to protest, but Kenny speaks again. "I thought you came here to apologize to Tweek."
Stan hates that he switched the subject. "I did, and I will, but..." Remembering the blank look Tweek gave him gives him goosebumps. His gaze alone told Stan that he hates him for what he tried to do.
"You still have a chance," Kenny assures, giving Stan a very forced smile. "Since we'll be going to the auditorium together."
Stan has noticed that Kenny hasn't been acting his usual-self as of late. His lips curl into a concerned frown. "Dude, you've been acting really depressed lately. Ever since me, Gary, and Ike found you that night on the rooftop." Kenny appears taken aback. "Something really did must've happen between you and Kyle, if it's affected you this much."
The door to the bedroom opens. Tweek and Kyle enter the hallway, Kyle closing the door behind them. His long hair is tied into its usual ponytail. They also sense the same apprehension Kenny felt, Kyle narrowing his eyes attentively while Tweek scans around in a panic for the cause.
"So you two just felt it as well," Kenny says pushing himself away from the wall.
"W-what even was that?" Tweek asks.
"Something we shouldn't ignore," Kyle responds. "Be on the lookout for anything suspicious while we're heading to the auditorium." Tweek nods his head nervously, but blushes a little when Kyle holds his hand.
They start walking down the hall. Stan is so confused, and a little bit on-edge as to what they were talking about, but doesn't question it. It's definitely a heightened senses thing he most likely wouldn't understand. As they walk in silence, Stan looks at Tweek and Kyle holding hands in front of him a meter away. He still can't believe that they're in a relationship...
"Remember, Stan."
Hearing Kenny's stern voice beside him prevents his mind from wandering. "R-right, gotta stay focused." He simply nods his understanding, takes a deep breath, and utters, "T-Tweek?" Still walking, Tweek turns his head back. "Can I talk to you?"
His visible eye narrows, then he looks away. "I already know you wanna apologize, but I won't forgive you no matter what you say."
Stan's face morphs into a pained frown. This is a whole new side of Tweek he's never seen before. "I know, but at least hear me out."
All four of them stop. Kyle advises Tweek to hear his apology, and he concedes with a sigh. He turns around letting go of Kyle's hand, who also turns around. "Fine."
Locking eyes with Kyle for a brief second, Stan looks to Kenny forcing up a small smile. "Shouldn't you take this chance to talk to Kyle?"
Kenny mimics his smile. "Yeah, you're right." Him and Tweek walk forward, and past each other. A flash of lightning is shown through some nearby windows, but no thunder sounds afterwards.
Once Tweek is beside Stan and Kenny is beside Kyle, they resume walking. "I'm really sorry," Stan starts off saying, his gaze to the floor. "The reason I thought of escaping was because I didn't want me or any of the others to suffer like you did. I know it was still selfish, and also fucked up of me not to tell you about it, but...you were suddenly turned into a vampire so I wasn't sure if I should've told you or not."
"It wouldn't have mattered since I'll never be able to go home anyway," Tweek points out emotionlessly.
"Plus, my plans failed so me and the others aren't going anywhere either," Stan says dryly, raising his head. "I still feel like an idiot, I let my fears get the best of me. But thanks to Kenny for setting me straight, I'll never think of pulling a dumb stunt like that again. Also don't be mad at Gregory, Ike, Gary, and Pip, they weren't really in on my idea of escaping without you in the first place. I also told them not to tell you about it. I deserve all of your hatred, not them."
Tweek knows that only Stan is at fault, he was just upset that the others didn't tell him about his escape plan sooner. But now he knows why. "Even though I don't forgive you, I do appreciate you for still apologizing."
Stan smiles a little. "I was in the wrong, it's only right that I acknowledge it." It becomes quiet between them for a few seconds. "Umm, can I ask about...you and Kyle? Like, I know you two aren't friends after seeing you both sleeping so close together earlier."
Tweek can't fight the blush rising within his cheeks. "We're...in a bond."
Stan blinks at him, that's a pretty deep way of describing their relationship. "Oh. Wait, so that means you like him?" Tweek's blush darkens in response. "Seriously?! Have you forgotten that he's the reason you had your blood sucked, and that he turned you into this?" He gestures at Tweek being a vampire.
Tweek frowns, slightly angry but Stan doesn't know who the real culprit is so his reaction is justifiable. "Being in a bond wasn't our choice, and you wouldn't believe me if I told you Kyle wasn't the one who did any of that."
"Damn right I wouldn't without any proof."
Tweek just sighs, his only source of proof isn't around right now. The topic is dropped, and neither say another word.
With Kenny and Kyle, all the while Stan was apologizing to Tweek, Kenny wasted no time reassuring Kyle that he didn't hate him nor Tweek, and had merely distanced himself from them so as to not succumb to his jealousy at they're intimacy. Kyle was naturally understanding, telling him that he already knew that was the case thanks to Luke, but was very glad that they're friendship remained intact.
"I see you and Tweek are gettin' used to being bonded," Kenny says.
Kyle's cheeks color a faint red, remembering being caught cuddling Tweek in his bed minutes ago. "Y-yeah."
"Have you developed any feelings for him yet?"
Kyle blinks, startled at the question, and his blush becomes redder. "I-I..."
Kenny chuckles at his abashed unsureness. "You two haven't been in the bond for too long so I'm not surprised you don't like him in that way yet."
Kyle frowns. His feelings for Tweek are steadily growing, that he knows. "I will eventually..."
"I know you will."
Just the rushing downpour fills the silence between the four teenagers.
*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, giving his blonde-haired boyfriend, who's walking beside him, a glare. "Since when did you start caring about not going to some meeting?"
"This is important!" 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 vampire hunter, there's no point now since he's going to be killed today. None of the three males are wearing their uniform blazers, just their dress shirt/undershirt, black pants, and dark dress shoes.
"Fine." Butters comes to a stop, Craig and Clyde doing the same after taking one more step. They turn to face him. "You two idiots can go on ahead. I'm done gettin' inta trouble cuz ya'll don't never wanna 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 in the opposite direction. "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-"
"If you wanna follow him, then go. I won't stop you either."
Clyde eyes him with a slightly concerned gaze. "Are you alright? You're kinda extra snappy today."
Craig tenses. That's a question he 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 fled from an administrator who'd taken down the chains to their room so they could also attend the meeting. After awhile, Craig had asked Clyde and Butters about the odd sensation since they seemed unaware of it, confused even, and their responses confirmed it. They felt nothing.
"Just what the hell is this? Am I goin' crazy?" Craig thinks to himself.
"Hehehe."
Craig goes into a standstill. Coming to a halt almost immediately afterwards, Clyde becomes increasingly worried at his alarmed expression. "What is it?"
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 clenched 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. "There's nobody else he-" He's unable to finish his statement when he catches a glimpse of a very fast approaching dark figure with vibrant blue eyes.
A deafening 'SPLURT' quickly follows, then all is partially silent.
Craig flinches at the stomach-churning sound before spinning around, becoming both horrified and enraged at the sight he sees. An immense amount of blood is splattered across the wall, and a large amount of it is on the floor, right underneath a headless body's feet that's constantly spraying out blood from its neck.
"Clyde!"
Craig's eyes swiftly change red and his pupils light blue. He lunges at the black clothed person that's standing near Clyde's body as one of his hands gets encased in an icy blue aura.
Narrowing his eyes that are changing into a neon green, the man shoves Clyde's corpse at Craig, then hops a good distance away. The instant the body comes into contact against Craig's palm, Craig watches hopelessly as his boyfriend's body starts freezing up right in the very spot he's touching, ceasing the blood flow that's been coming out of the gaping jugular.
"This is merely the beginning of your torment, Craig Tucker," the man warns before vanishing.
Craig is too scared to move, fearing that if he does, Clyde's body will fall and shatter into multiple pieces. His eyes that are tearing up and pupils revert back to their original colors, the magic in his hand diminishing as a result. With both hands, he lays the frozen body gently down on the floor, away from the puddle of blood. Off to the side, he spots a head of brown hair. He gets up and ambles over to it, sinking down onto his knees to scoop up the head into his arms. Clyde's widened and lifeless eyes are the last thing Craig sees before the tears blur his vision and stream down his cheeks. He hunches over letting out an anguished scream.
*In The Auditorium*
Boisterous chatter echoes throughout the massive auditorium, the adults occupying the first few rows of chairs while the rest are taken up by the students. Michael and Vincent are standing side by side on the stage. Just one or two minutes ago, Michael informed everybody here that the vampire hunter would be escorted down to their location shortly.
However, there's been no sign of Ingrum, Rosa, and Chris as of yet.
His arms crossed and his face showcasing his restlessness, Michael asks Vincent, "What's taking them so long? It's been five minutes."
Vincent's smile broadens a smidgen, his arms folded behind his back. "I do wonder what the holdup is." But then his lips curl into a frown. "As well as the current whereabouts of your two assistants." His tone was a little less cheerful, sounding suspecting even.
Michael looks away from Vincent with a startled blink of the eyes. He'd momentarily forgotten that Henrietta and Luther were going to devise some sort of plan for Vincent with Kurai, wherever they might be. He hasn't seen them again since this morning. "Ah, them. I have no idea where they are to be honest."
"Hmm, is that so?" The beautiful vampire hums, his lips straightening into an unreadable line. "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?"
"What is it?"
"Did you know," Vincent utters portentously just as thunder rumbles nearby. "That the chamber the vampire hunter was kept in is just below the auditorium?"
Michael looks to him raising an eyebrow. "How-" But all of a sudden, his eyes enlarge 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 in shock upon sensing a powerful presence of magic, all except one who's sat in the very back near the wall, a spot where the lights overhead fail to reach him.
Michael spins around to look at the 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 shouts and curses of panic and perplexity.
"Everyone, get outta here!" Michael exclaims.
While nearly all of the vampires and three humans bolt up from their seats and out of the doors, one of the teachers shouts, "Instead of running away, let's all take him down before-"
"No!" Michael says objecting the idea. "Just run, you all won't stand a chance against him!" The teacher smacks their lips before doing as told.
A man with his blonde-silver hair blowing wildly in the wind pushes his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, an unknown gleam flickering in the lenses. "Well, zhis is quite unexpected," says Sullivan, his big brown book resting on top of his lap.
Christophe and Damien are sitting behind him. "Hmph, I knew somezhin' wasn't right way before we came in 'ere," Christophe grumbles, scowling at Vincent.
"Yeah, same. Mr. Valentine is one sketchy guy," Damien says.
" 'e's not zhe only one zhat's sketchy." Christophe nudges his head back at a certain individual, neither Damien nor Sullivan needing to look behind them to see who he was referring to.
The student's luminous dark purple eyes glare smugly at the back of their heads, then disappears.
"Track," Sullivan utters quietly. A long trail of black gas starts seeping out from within the pages of his book, it swirls up into the air - unfazed by the strong gale - then darts out of the auditorium in pursuit of its unsaid target.
"And zhat's why 'e's zhe last of 'is kind," Christophe points out scornfully. "Zhey were nozhing but a bunch of fucking snakes."
"Seems he and Mr. Valentine are in cahoots wizh each ozher," Sullivan assumes.
"What the hell are you guys still doing here?!" Michael yells in their direction. He suddenly senses an oncoming strike aimed for his head, and he swiftly dodges it by hopping back, glaring coldly at his attacker.
The man's pale skin has been rid of all the blood, bruises, and burns that once marred his body, his teal-colored eyes are burning with intense anger at Michael. He's still in his stripped attire consisting of only his white dress shirt that has two buttons undone and black dress pants, 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 says, grinning cheekily. Christophe face-palms while Sullivan shakes his head, though he finds the noirette's comment humorous.
Vincent chuckles, his platinum-colored locks fluttering violently in the relentless wind. "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 of his arms from behind his back, and opens a 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.
Michael watches the two teachers and librarian disappear as if they were erased, leaving only tiny bright red particles in their place that quickly fades away. He returns his narrowing mint-green eyes back to Vincent. "You better explain what the fuck's going on."
"He doesn't have to explain anything to you."
"Christopher, stop." The man goes rigid at the stern order, who was about to lunge at Michael again for his rudeness. "This is between Michael and I. Do not interfere."
"Yes, boss." Chris shrinks back, but his scowl remains fixated on the other black-haired male.
"Now I believe you have matters of your own to attend to, don't you?
Chris' eyes widen for a brief moment in recollection, then he nods his head. "Where is that Japanese prick?" He demands from the Principal.
"Like I'd tell you," Michael sneers.
"Hmph, so be it," Chris says smirking. "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 stage in a cloud of black smoke. It gets effortlessly blown away.
"Son of a bitch," Michael mutters. He knows the adults can handle themselves, and maybe the students as well if they are Purebloods, and the Mixed Bloods are with them. The humans should be fine since the vampire hunter isn't after them.
"I'd focus more on yourself if I were you."
Michael hardens his glare at Vincent. "I don't need or want your concern." The man's smile falters at his harsh tone. "How're we gonna settle this?"
A peculiar grin develops on Vincent's face. "Hand to hand combat, just like the good ol' days."
Refusing to show the tiniest bit of nervousness, Michael cracks his knuckles. "Yeah, except this ain't sparring practice!" He charges at Vincent, a fist aimed right for his self-confident face.