I took a deep breath and looked up at the towering building. "It's at the very top?"

"Yeah, that's what the letter said," replied Gerard, though he sounded uncertain.

Gerard, Mikey and I made our way up the building. There was an atrium on the first floor that extended about five stories up. The whole place was huge, and we searched through a sea of cubicles before we finally found the elevator.

A couple of other people were in the elevator, all going to different floors. Another man got in with us. "Where are you going?" he asked us, reaching for the buttons.

Gerard scanned the different floors. There was a button at the very top that was red and read, "111".

"Floor 111."

He looked at Gerard like he was crazy. "There is no 111th floor."

"What are you talking abo-" Gerard began, stunned, but Mikey nudged his arm and whispered something in his ear.

"Sorry, my mistake. 110, please."

The man looked at him for a couple more seconds before shrugging and pushing the button.

He got off before us, and soon the elevator was cleared except for an old lady, who looked rather nervous.

"Can you take me to floor 111?" she quavered.

Gerard stared at her. "You know about it?"

She nodded. "I heard you mention it, too. The SBC wants to see me."

Mikey grabbed her shoulders and looked her square in the face. "What do they want to see you for?"

Her eyes widened. "M-my grandson was…bitten by a deranged maniac a few weeks ago. He hasn't been the same since, disappearing at the full moon and eating his meat raw. I received a letter in the mail, saying they request my presence here at two. Do you know anything?" she finished, her sorrowed eyes pleading for help. I instantly felt horrible- she really loved her grandson.

Mikey put a hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly at her. "It's fine. Your grandson has been turned into a werewolf."

She gasped at him. "How do you know?"

"I'm one myself. Don't worry," he laughed, "I won't bite. Neither will Frank," he pointed at each of us in turn, "and Gerard. They're vampires."

She stood, staring at us all with now disbelieving eyes, mouth agape. "You…you c-can't be serious."

I sighed and bared my fangs at her. Gerard followed suit, and her face paled as she shrank back against the wall.

"Okay, I believe you! Just please d-don't eat me," she whimpered.

"Don't worry," Mikey laughed. "They won't hurt you. They're both pansies."

"We're right here, you know," I pointed out.

"I know. Just stating the obvious."

I smacked the back of his head. "You hardly know me, you little fu-, oh, sorry," I apologized to the old woman.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm just worried about my grandson, and I want to know who the son of a bitch is that hurt him."

Gerard grinned. "Dude, you're awesome."

"Thank you, dear."

"Who's your grandson, by the way?" I asked.

"Well, his name is Raymond Toro. He tells me to call him Ray, but I think Raymond is a lovely name."

Mikey smiled. "I like that name."

"Alright, let's go," I interrupted, though I tried to do it nicely. "I don't want anyone else getting in."

Gerard reached over and pushed the button for the 111th floor. Ray's grandma looked confused. "But that was just a spot of wall-"

She looked aghast as the elevator began to move.

"I figured it was only visible to supernatural beings," Mikey explained. "That's why you couldn't see it."

The lift clattered to a halt, and we got out, to reveal a place that looked nothing like the rest of the building.

It was still strictly business-like, but everything seemed…grander. More important. As if it was on a higher level than the rest of the floors, no pun intended.

"Wow," Gerard murmured.

I nodded.

"Wow indeed."

We made our way to what looked like the receptionist's desk.

She looked up and our eyes met. Hers were a startling electric blue, and they kind of intimidated me.

"Do you have an appointment?"

That's why she was the receptionist. Of course. Her voice was so smooth, so welcoming, like something you only hear on an advertisement, but ten times better.

"Uh, yeah. I'm Frank Iero, this is Gerard Way and Mikey Way; we all have an appointment together. And, uh, this is…" I gestured vacantly to the old woman.

"Elizabeth Ortiz," she finished for me.

"Yeah."

The receptionist nodded. "Frank, you three are going to," she checked her book, "room 247. Elizabeth, you are going to room 213."

We thanked her and parted ways.

"238…241…ah, here." I knocked on the door.

"Enter," said a voice.

Okay, three things. First, if this seems like a messed-up version of Twilight, I was not intending it to be like that. At all. Seriously.

Second, this is short, and I hate to end it here, but I'm lazy. Next chapter will be longer, I promise.

Third, I just want to thank everyone who reads my stuff. I love you guys, and I dedicate it all to you. Because who else would I dedicate it to?