"What do you think, Doctor?"
"Very strange," Doctor John Casey admitted.
Together with Dr. Woodcomb, they stood upon the balcony in Devon's office and gazed down into the small courtyard where patients were allowed to roam. For ten minutes they watched as Morgan Grimes picked insects out of the grass and popped them into his mouth. After being stymied by the patient's condition for nearly a week, Devon called in his friend and former colleague for assistance.
"Has Mr. Grimes indicated why he prefers bugs to the hospital's beef and mac?" Casey inquired.
"He says their life gives him life," Devon sadly answered. Once more, Casey felt for his old friend who so recently suffered a family tragedy.
"With your permission," he said, "I'd like to run a full physical examination of Mr. Grimes as well as a psychological exam."
"Of course," Devon said. "Anything you need done, so it shall be."
-----------------
"I don't like you being in that apartment alone," Carina said over the phone. "I wish you'd let me stay with you."
"I just…need some time alone with her," Chuck said. With a heavy sigh, he continued, "I know that probably doesn't make sense…"
"Babe, you don't need to explain anything to me. I understand. It's just…" Carina couldn't continue. He didn't need to hear it. Not now.
"Just what?" Chuck asked.
"Nothing, babe. Try to get some sleep, okay? I love you."
"I love you, too."
They disconnected the call. I don't want to be alone right now—Carina finished her earlier thought.
She slipped the phone back into its cradle. Looking about the large, spacious bedroom of her father's estate – the only bedroom she'd ever known – she wasn't comforted in the least by its familiarity. There was only one thing that might comfort her, but he had his own issues to deal with.
She went over to her dresser and stripped away her sweater and blue jeans. She slipped on a pair of comfortable pink cotton panties and a black baby-t Chuck bought for her last birthday that declared in block letters "Frak You".
With nothing else to do, shortly after nine pm, Carina crawled into bed, clutched a pillow like a teddy bear, and tried to sleep.
-------------
Carina awoke to a chill in the air. She could see her breath in the moonlight. She flipped over from her stomach onto her back, eyes instinctively turning to the windows, seeing which she left open.
But her eyes found a dark form in the center of the floor. Large, it's exact shape indefinable in the shadows. But Carina found a pair of bright yellow eyes staring back at her and knew she was in danger.
"Help!" she tried to scream. But the word came out little more than a choked whisper, her vocal chords – like the rest of her – paralyzed with fear.
The form moved forward silently, gracefully. As it stepped into the moonlight just before her bed, Carina could finally make out its form. A cat. Or rather, a panther. A large, black, scary panther.
Carina felt the foot of the bed dip under the weight of the panther's two front paws. Then, the beast slowly made its way up the length of her body. Carina quivered in fear as she felt its hot breath move up her legs, to her stomach, and finally to her face.
"Oh God…" she whimpered.
The cat reacted to the exclamation, baring its sharp fangs. Before Carina could react…
--------------
Professor Casey poured over the test results of Mr. Morgan Grimes. He could understand why others might be puzzled by the findings. The condition Mr. Grimes was afflicted with was hardly a common one. In fact, Mr. Grimes condition was an incredibly unnatural one.
But while Mr. Grimes' condition was troubling, Professor Casey was more disturbed by the reports of Ellie Bartowski's death. Over recent days, his friend and colleague Devon Woodcomb had slipped with a few details of the demise of his only daughter's friend. It was enough to pique Casey's interest – and fill his heart with dread.
For Professor Casey – after reviewing the autopsy reports of Ellie Bartowski and the lab results of Morgan Grimes – could come to only one horrifying conclusion: somewhere, lurking in the City of Angels, was a vampire.
--------------
Like her fiancé the night before, Carina felt a compulsion. That compulsion drew her to the Bartowski apartment.
"It's okay," she soothingly assured her future husband. "We both need time to think. I just…I need to be here, too, okay? You lost a sister, but I lost a best friend."
So, for only the second time since assuming a romantic relationship, Chuck and Carina didn't share a bedroom. Shortly after ten pm, Carina entered Ellie's bedroom, alone, and prepared for bed.
Carina slipped from her jeans and sweater and donned her sleepwear. She sat at Ellie's small vanity table and brushed her hair. She then moved to the rocking chair in the corner and clutched Ellie's childhood teddy bear, Baloo. And then, when she could stand no more, seeking escape from her thoughts, she turned out the lights and prepared for sleep.
But before she climbed into bed, Carina did a curious thing. Without even thinking about it, without even realizing it, she unlocked the window.
---------------
"Oh God. Please no," Carina whimpered.
The black beast slowly crawled upon the bed, its hot breath against her skin. Carina was immobilized, helpless to move. At the mercy of this terrible creature that could rip her apart in moments.
As she felt it above her face – for by now, Carina squeezed closed her eyes and turned away – she braced herself for death. To never again know the embrace of her lover, but to once more laugh with her best friend. But curiously…
"Carina…" a breathy voice echoed.
Cautiously, Carina chanced opening her eyes. To her surprise, she found a gorgeous blonde lingering above.
"Hello Lips, Hips, Tits, and Ass," Carina unconsciously murmured.
Sarah smiled at the greeting. Though she went with a simpler, "Hello Carina."
The other woman lay beside her, head propped up on an elbow, gazing down at the brunette. She smiled softly, the fingers of her free right hand gently trailing along Carina's bare leg, her wavy blonde locks spilling down, the tips lightly tickling Carina's shoulder and arm.
"How are you?" Sarah softly inquired.
Mesmerized as she was by Sarah's presence, Carina couldn't help but glance away in sorrow. "Not good," she admitted.
"Your friend?"
Carina's eyes snapped back. "How do you…?"
Sarah reached up and delicately swept her fingers through Carina's hair. "The pain…it's written on your face and in your eyes."
Carina choked back a sob. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "She was my best friend and I lost her."
Sarah's fingertips trailed down Carina's forehead, over her eyes, gently closing them. Those fingertips then dabbed away the tears.
"Ssh," Sarah soothed. "It's okay, Carina. Because I'm here now. And I solemnly swear…I will never leave you."
Carina's lips quivered. "Promise?"
"Promise."
------------------
"Dude, she's never going out with you."
"What do you know about it?"
"I know you got no money, no clothes, and this crap ride."
Shortly after midnight, the two teenagers, Kyle and Greg, cruised the LA streets in Kyle's 1992 Toyota Corolla.
"I think I have a shot," Kyle defended.
"I think she would become a lesbian before she dated you," Greg said. "And that's only after every other man alive, including myself, kicked the bucket."
Kyle was silent a moment. "You suck."
Greg hummed agreement. "Wanna score some weed?"
"Okay."
As they turned down a quiet road near a neighborhood park, Kyle's attention was drawn to a park bench on the sidewalk.
"Dude, look at that."
Both boys stared at the young woman sitting on the bench. Her dark brown obscured her face, but she was clad in a black formal dress.
"Looks like she just came back from a funeral," Greg observed. "Something about this isn't right."
Kyle nodded in agreement. He pulled the car close to the curb and rolled down his window. The woman didn't react to the car's presence. "Miss? Are you okay?"
The woman slowly lifted her head, brunette hair falling aside enough to reveal a beautiful – but pain etched – face. "Help me?" her voice rang out, like a siren's call.
The boys shared a concerned look, exited the car, and went to help the woman. "Are you hurt, Miss?" Kyle asked. "We can drop you at a hospital."
Once more the woman's face was obscured by her hair. She looked down at her feet and sat completely still, her hands tightly gripping the bench edge.
"Miss, is there anything we can do?" Greg asked.
"I'm hungry," the woman pitifully said.
Both boys reacted to the strange declaration. "Okay," Kyle drawled. "There's a diner a couple blocks down. We can take you."
The woman cocked her head slightly, turning up towards the boys. They only caught a glimpse of her left eye, but it was enough to send waves of fear down their spines.
"I'm…hungry…" the woman stated again.
-------------
"She's so pale," Chuck worried. Leaning over the bed, he gently pressed his lips to Carina's forehead. "She's not feverish."
"And she was fine last night?" Devon asked, sounding like the concerned father he was.
"Yes. She went to bed in Ellie's old room. When I checked on her this morning…" Chuck indicated the sleeping beauty, now resting comfortably in her own bed. "God, she needs to be okay. I can't…"
Devon patted the young man's shoulder. "I know, son. I know."
At that moment, the Woodcomb family maid, Lucy, entered the room. "Sir? There's a Doctor Casey here to see you."
Devon appeared confused. "Strange. I'm not expecting John today. But please, send him in. Perhaps he has some insight on our girl's condition."
Only moments later, the maid returned, escorting Casey into the room. His eyes immediately set upon the ill girl resting in bed. "Devon, I came as soon as I heard."
"Heard?" Devon asked, still confused.
"About your daughter's condition."
"Ah! How kind of you to show such concern." The baffled expression was still present. "Though I'm not sure how you heard of her illness."
"Would you object to a request to examine Carina?" Casey asked. But he was already moving past the concerned father and fiancé on his way to the bed.
"Of course," Devon easily agreed. "You're far more experienced in matters of diagnostics."
Casey gently sat beside the sickly girl. He first pressed a hand to her forehead, checking for fever. After which he examined Carina's eyes and the lymph nodes of her neck. But these examinations seemed perfunctory, almost as though he didn't expect to find anything.
"Hold on, sweetheart," he gently whispered. "I just need to see something."
His fingers lightly tugged at the collar of Carina's t-shirt. Chuck stepped forward, ready to object at the veiled attempt to disrobe his fiancée.
"What are those?" Devon asked, interrupting Chuck's action.
Like Dr. Casey, Devon noticed the two tiny blemishes above Carina's breasts. They weren't anything that would be found unless one was purposely looking for them. Each blemish was only a couple millimeters in diameter. Slightly pinkish and inflamed, like a recently suffered wound.
"Have you seen these marks before?" Devon again asked his friend.
Gravely, Casey stared at the marks. "Yes, I have. Quite recently in fact. On another lovely young girl approximately your daughter's age."
Before either of the other men could make the connection, Lucy again returned with news. "A Miss Sarah Walker to see you, Sir."
"Did I send out invitations?" Devon asked of himself. Then, aloud, "We'll greet her in the parlor."
--------------
"Miss Walker!" Devon greeted with as much warmth as he could muster. Not that Miss Walker's presence was unwelcome, but when one's child is sick… "What brings you to my home this evening?"
"I was hoping to discuss the condition of my assistant, Mr. Grimes."
"Oh! Of course. As luck would have it an associate of mine is here, checking on my daughter. You remember Carina, yes? She's come down with a sudden illness."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Sarah sympathized. To Chuck she said, "And I was terribly sorry to hear of your sister. Please, accept my sincerest condolences."
Chuck nodded graciously.
"As I was saying," Devon continued, "I've consulted an associate to look into your Mr. Grimes' condition." As Casey entered the parlor, Devon made introductions. "Miss Walker, allow me to introduce Dr. John Casey. He's quite renowned, making a name for himself in such areas as blood disorders."
For a brief moment, Sarah's cool façade slipped, replaced by a frown as she sized up the large man before her. But she quickly masked it, taking the hand Casey offered.
"How do you do?" Sarah inquired.
"I should ask the same," Casey said with thinly veiled fake concern. "Are you feeling well, Miss?"
"Of course. Why do you ask?"
"Your skin has a pallor to it," Casey explained. He then made a show of clutching Sarah's hand between both of his own. "It's also quite cool to the touch. The lady wouldn't be falling ill, would she?"
Sarah hastily withdrew her hand from Casey's grasp. "I feel quite well, thank you."
"Are you certain? Because an illness appears to be going around. As a precaution, why don't you allow me to obtain a blood sample for testing? I can find out…"
"Absolutely not!" Sarah vehemently interrupted.
Casey smiled condescendingly. "Are you certain you're well, Miss Walker?"
"I'm a picture of health."
"Really?" There was a long pause. Casey's eyes briefly flittered to a spot on the wall just behind Sarah. "Because it's rarely a good thing when one's image doesn't reflect in a mirror."
Everyone's eyes turned to the large mirror on the wall. True to Casey's words, the only image not reflected within was Sarah's.
Sarah screeched, a terrible, inhuman howl. The sound so shrill the mirror shattered into pieces and the men fell to the floor, clutching their ears. When they suitably recovered – albeit with a ringing in their ears – the men found that Sarah was nowhere in sight.
"What was that?" Chuck asked.
"That," Casey explained, "is the source of your dearly betrothed's affliction."