Sam scratched his back, yanking at his over-sized nightshirt as he knocked gently on Star's bedroom door. It was mid-afternoon, Saturday, and she still hadn't gotten up to leave for work.
"Hey, Star, are you getting up anytime soon?" He called, yawning. It wasn't easy living with someone who reminded him on a daily basis that his brother was pretty much as good as dead, for all he knew. But he liked Star. And he was getting really worried about her, since she'd been acting so strange lately.
Not that she ever acted...normal. It was like mopeyness was bred into her or something. Sure, they were all sad about Michael, but even he'd learned searching for his brother every single night on the boardwalk was fruitless.
"Star?" Sam repeated, cracking her door open slightly. He was always a little nervous to check on her, after a certain incident in which he'd forgotten to knock. As sad as she generally was, she could be a wildcat when she was upset.
"Hey, where'd you go?" Sam glanced around the room. She was already gone? Funny, gramps hadn't mentioned her leaving early that morning. And her bike was still outside.
He frowned, walking towards the closet and pulling it open just to see if maybe she'd fallen asleep in there or something. Who knew what girls did when they were alone? They were like a different species.
Still no Star. He frowned, swallowing back a whimper. This was beginning to feel way too familiar.
"Mom! Did you see Star leave the house this morning?!" Sam called out, dashing from the room.
"What?" Lucy Emerson shouted back from downstairs, fastening an earring into her left ear and crossing towards the foot of them to catch the sight of her youngest son tearing through the upstairs hall like the devil was on his tail.
"She's gone, mom! Star's gone! She's probably dead!" Sam shouted, rushing into his mother's arms and squeezing her tightly.
"Oh, Sam, honey. That's silly. Why would you think something like that? She probably just went out for a walk," Lucy rubbed her son's back and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Hmph," came the gruff sound of Grandpa Emmerson clearing his throat as he walked behind Lucy taking a swig of root beer.
"That girl probably finally lost it," he shrugged, heading towards his workshop. Tact was not a skill he was known nearly so well for as carving up rabbit carcasses. He didn't dislike Star, but he viewed her as a guest. Frankly, at times, he viewed his daughter and grandson as guests too. The man had just spent too much time living alone to think of his home as a place to share with other people.
At first, Sam hadn't really understood his grandpa's behavior. He thought he was a little crazy. Maybe a little off-balance. They hadn't really gotten to know each other much as he was growing up, thanks to the fact that there was just too much distance between them for any visits beyond the occasional Christmas surprise. But recently, Sam had gotten just a little bit fonder of him. Maybe even understood him a little bit better. So he didn't take his grandfather's reaction to the news about Star too harshly.
"Listen, honey, Star will be home at some...point today. You had plans anyway, didn't you?" Lucy suddenly asked, pulling away from her youngest. She was heading down to her new job, and didn't want Sam to think she didn't care how distressed he clearly was. After all, Sam was really the only child she had now. Maybe...there was an off chance...that Michael might call her out of the blue some day, explain that he'd just decided to run off and get a job somewhere, make a fresh start after the trauma they'd been through. After all, he had mentioned once that he didn't really want to go back to school anyway. But for now, Lucy had simply learned to accept...that he was gone.
Careful to keep her face straight, to maintain the semblance of concern and strength she often mustered in front of her youngest son, Lucy smoothed his hair back and met his eyes.
"You were going to meet up with those friends of yours? They're dropping by Santa Carla for a visit, right?"
Sam nodded, smiling weakly at his mom.
Where was that sweet little boy she'd raised? The one who always had a snappy remark, a bit of attitude or a joke to throw at her? He'd disappeared the same day as Michael had. Now, she didn't even recognize him anymore. He was simply too calm for his own good.
"Maybe I...I was thinking of just staying home. I'll catch up with them next time they come down," Sam said, glancing back upstairs towards Star's room. He wanted to make sure she came back.
"No, you're going out today. Sam, you need to start living your life again," Lucy stated firmly, placing a hand under his chin and forcing him to make eye contact with her. In the past year, he'd grown a little bit taller. Enough to stand an inch or so above her...but she was still his mom, so she was still intimidating enough for her word to be final.
"I guess so," Sam replied, putting a hand on hers and pushing it away gently.
"Edgar said something about moving back. Maybe. I guess I should meet them both in person to see what that's all about," Sam added, shrugging.
He didn't know when he'd started to really care about Star, like she was an extension of his lost brother...but he did. And even when he did meet up with the Frogs, Sam was confident he'd spend the whole day worrying if she didn't show up...
The following night, Michael was still nursing his wounds, even after getting a good day's sleep. Marko and David had been so damned mad at him when they'd been forced to wrestle Star and fly her back to the cave with her arms and legs restrained, that they'd hardly said a word to him. Somehow, David was so mad, he'd forgotten his nightly 'bedtime punishment'. Which really didn't bother Michael too much...but the deep gauges and bite-marks from an insane Star-creature did.
He didn't understand what had happened to her. She woke up, and...she wasn't the same. She'd gone mad, tried to kill him on the spot, and very nearly managed to tear his throat out before David leaped into the room and tackled her to the ground.
They all had battle scars from the scuffle. It was a miracle nobody in the house had been woken. And now Star was hidden deep within one of the many caverns nestled below the sunken hotel, for her own protection and theirs. She was delirious...unable to even speak or recognize them. She was like...an empty shell. There was nothing inside her besides the bestial hunger, and the urge to lash out and consume anything living (or half-living) around her.
Sitting in the main lobby, leaning against the bed, Michael flinched when he pulled his shirt up to dab at a particularly large gauge in his stomach. It looked better than it had the previous night...but he still resembled a car crash victim on the verge of death. If any normal person saw him, they'd probably think he was some kind of zombie.
Michael had born the real brunt of the fight. David and Marko glared at him from across the lobby with their own battle scars, though, and still didn't speak. David was reclining in his wheelchair/throne and Marko was pacing. Neither had their shirts on, as they were too scratched up and sore to handle the fabric brushing up against their skin.
"Do you even know what you've done?" David hissed from across the room at Michael, grabbing a nearby bottle of blood and downing a good swig of it. So what if it was his own blood? He was hungry!
"I brought Star back..." Michael trailed off, looking up at the ceiling. "I think..."
"Fucking idiot..." Marko mumbled. For the first time, he didn't have even a slight hint of humor in his tone. He was too infuriated to even throw out a more thinly veiled sarcastic vibe at Michael's intelligence.
"That thing..." David gestured wildly with one arm, flinching when he lifted it as the healing wound on his shoulder sent a slight twinge of pain down his back.
"...Is not Star, you dip-shit! You can't turn someone when they're fully fucking dead, Michael! What you made was a god damned ghoul!"
"She's still a hell of a lot better company than you!" Michael snapped back, growing agitated at their agitation. He didn't like when other people were mad at him, it only made his own temper much worse. Like he was trying to out-do them.
"This is going to set us back by a couple of days," Marko added in, crossing his arms.
"I'm never going to be the one getting a good fuck around here at this rate..." He grumped, kicking the wall.
"...What?" Michael raised an eyebrow at the odd statement.
"Clearly you're off-limits, Mikey. And Star...well, I don't really want it bad enough to have my dick ripped off in the middle, frankly. And David's a lousy-"
"MARKO!" David shouted, standing up and giving him a warning glare. Marko rolled his eyes in response.
"...I just miss Dwayne. And Paul..." Marko trailed off. "And we're going to need as much blood as we can get tonight to deal with the bullshit you just created. There's no way we're going to be able to bring enough people back to the cave tonight to bring them back!"
Michael winced at the thought. Just how many people were they going to have to kill?!
"As many as it takes," David replied to his thought, ominously.
Marko crossed towards Michael and knelt with his hands on his knees, grinning wickedly.
"By the way...you're on feeding duty. So, congratulations Mikey! You got what you want! Enjoy the new fucking psycho pet you made, because she's immortal now!"