The bar is ready, and your car is broken down on the side of the road. You were on your way to work when it happened, the car began stuttering, or what felt like stuttering. When you pushed the gas pedal, it lurched forward and then slowed down, before repeating the process again and again. You had no idea what was going on, you weren't much of a car person and you would probably never be. And without a cell phone, you had no way of alerting anyone. Maybe if you made yourself panic, Eric would show up, but that didn't seem fair. Not to him, or your mental state. You heard some scary stories about hitchhikers, so you stayed in your car with the doors locked. Not wanting to drain the battery, you turn the car off. Praying it would turn on again if you needed it to. The car didn't stop suddenly in the middle of the road, it moved, it just seemed unsure of its movements.
You climb over the console in between the driver's seat and the passenger seat, dropping into the backseat with your bags of clothes. Mindlessly, you begin changing, pulling out the first outfit you find, trying not to be too picky with what you have. You peel off your underwear and replace them with fresh ones, along with your socks, already black. After you're done changing, you're wearing tight black jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt, simple enough. You'd save the flashy clothes, like dresses and skirts for when you got more comfortable.
Because you made this trip a few times, you recognize where you are. Not too far away from the new bar, you get out of the car and lock behind you, a little paranoid. You hold the keys between your fingers, like Freddy Krueger, as you walk down the dark road. The child murderer. Not a good comparison, but an accurate one. You're walking along the side of the road, and there are some lamps to light your way, but they're far from each other. And some of them aren't working, or they're flickering. If you were ever in a horror movie, this is how it would start.
But as you make your way to your new job, you don't run into any problems. Except for your worries about Sarah. That helped you not think about getting kidnapped or murdered. Or going missing without a trace. You thought in the past that meant sex trafficking, but it must mean vampires. But sex trafficking happened too. Your mom would never let you walk anywhere alone, all because of stuff she heard on the news. And you understood, you watched the news sometimes too. But you tried not to, it was always negative and disturbing, and you could never sleep right afterward. That's why you stuck to MTV, mindless entertainment. You watched movies though too, you preferred it over MTV.
A few cars pass you on your way, and it makes you paranoid, but it doesn't deter you from your route. And soon enough, you can see the shopping center in the distance, neon lights where the Blockbuster sign once was. You can't make out what it says yet, but you'll see soon enough. And you do, Fangtasia is scrawled on one of the doors of the building in cursive, a red neon light. The stores next to the bar were gone, except for a nail salon down at the far end. Maybe you'd go there and get your nails done or something.
Soon, you're standing on the curb in front of the building. The bar must be open already because the parking lot is full and a line of people is wrapped around the building. You notice Pam, she's standing near the front, next to the line of people waiting to enter the bar. Poor Pam, she notices you and widens her eyes at you, silently pleading for you to go over there. And you do, and the line of people stare at you, envious because they can't seem to get inside, Pam is standing behind a black velvet rope next to the people, "Hey Pam," You greet her, and she unclips the rope, moving it aside so you can go inside.
"You're lucky you didn't get this fuckin' job," She says irritably, crossing her arms, "You should hear what these breathers are saying, they're disgusting." She curls her lip in disgust, glaring at a few people as she lets them inside and puts the rope back in its place. She's wearing a very tight black dress that makes you question your sexuality, and her hair is tied back in a tight ponytail at the very top of her head, dirty blonde and long. She looks great, and less casual than you've ever seen her.
You don't know what to say, you shrug, "Sorry Pam." And you head inside, stopping to take everything in. When you and Sarah came up with the idea, you didn't think it would be brought to life. Immediately, you remember Sarah's idea about the stage in the back and you look over at Eric, he's sitting on a large chair that resembles a throne. Around him, women are crowded near the stage, trying to catch his attention. Some of them are dancing, others are just staring at him, and the most daring of all are climbing the stage, only to be deterred by his fierce glare. You stop staring at him and look around, all the girls near him are wearing black and purple, like every other human in the bar. The vampires are wearing black, and only black. Some of them had red on too.
Taking a glance over at the bar, you see the bartender, a tan man with long dark hair and a dark sleeveless shirt. He looks up at you curiously, before going back to serving his customers. Another vampire is next to him, a woman this time. Her cheekbones are high and her hair is a light blonde color, she looks sort of like Tinkerbell if she had fangs instead of wings. She's using her vampire speed to shake the cocktail shaker, not once catching your gaze. A Nine Inch Nails song is playing from the speakers, it didn't seem easy to dance to, but it was happening anyway.
Making your way through the crowd, you ignore the vampires that are looking your way in favor of starting ahead at the office door. After what seems like hours, but is only minutes, you finally enter the office, closing the door behind you without turning around. You let out a deep sigh, pressing your back against the door. That felt weird like you were a piece of meat or something. You wanted someone to look at you, but it wasn't them, you didn't know what or who you wanted, but you wanted something. For the life of you, you couldn't figure out your feelings and what they were doing to you. You should've been thinking about Sarah and whoever had Jenna's ashes, but you were thinking about Eric.
You walk over to the desk, thinking about Eric. The room is bigger than it was before, and the desk is bigger and grander, and the chairs across from it are as well, along with his char. Thinking of him, you sit down in his chair. The office smells like him, rich and sweet, it comforts you, and in turn, confuses you. A scoff leaves your lips and you stand, hurrying around the desk to sit at the chairs closer to the door. You cross your legs and uncross them, not knowing how to sit. This felt so weird. You couldn't stop thinking about Eric after all those dreams, or maybe nightmares was a better word to describe them. The fact that he was attractive didn't help with your quest to stop thinking about him, you knew the moment you met him that he was beautiful. Maybe he was beautiful on the inside too, but you didn't know, and you knew you probably wouldn't ever know.
You're wrapped up in your thoughts when the door opens and you can suddenly hear the music. The room must be soundproofed, you look over your shoulder at the man who plagued your thoughts and dreams. He closes the door behind him and nods at you, acknowledging your existence before passing you and sitting at his desk, "I need you to call some of our distributors and order more liquor, as well as blood bags for our vampire customers," He explains, passing a piece of paper over to you that you take with shaky hands, still reeling over your thoughts of him. It's a sticky note with two phone numbers scrawled in neat handwriting. Blood: and Alcohol: are alongside the phone numbers, so you know exactly who you're talking to. It didn't surprise you that they already needed more alcohol and stuff, it was the first night and the place was already packed with people buying all their products.
"Alright," You nod, folding the sticky note and holding it in one of your sweaty hands, "Oh um," You start, and he leans forward curiously, "Someone took Sarah's dead cousin's ashes and she's looking for them with Henry." You explain flippantly, shrugging. He furrows his brows but says nothing, running out of the room, a gust of wind passes and you roll your eyes as the door closes behind him. The song changed this time, now David Bowie was playing. You didn't know what song it was but you heard his music enough times to recognize his voice.
After you're sure he's gone, from your view and your mind, you stand and walk around his desk, sitting down in his chair. You pick the phone up from his desk, it's cordless and you unfold the sticky note clenched in your first, reading the numbers as you dial them, holding the phone up against your ear. First, you dial the alcohol distributor, you'd save the harder conversation for last. It rings a few times before you hear the sound of the phone being picked up, "Hello?" A voice calls into the phone, and you snap out of your thoughts of Eric once again.
"Hello, this is Eric Northman's assistant," You state formally, looking down at the desk, where a list of alcohol is, "He has an order for—" and you begin to list off all the different alcohol you see on the list. Various brands of vodka, beer, whiskey, rum, tequila, seltzers, and more. The list is very long, and it takes you a while to get through it. You have to repeat yourself a few times so the person on the other end can catch what you're saying.
And after you finish, you tell them thank you and hang up the phone, leaning back against the comfortable office chair with a heavy sigh. You still have to order blood for Eric, Pam and all the other vampire patrons.
After all of that talking you were a little out of breath, and unprepared for what would come next. The office door creaks open and the music floods into the room, making you want to groan. You don't, instead, you lazily glance up at whoever has entered the office. It's a man dressed in all black, he closes the door behind him after taking a peek out of it, looking around to see if anyone saw him enter the room. Nobody did, Eric had returned to the warehouse to assist with Henry and Sarah's side mission, while Pam was outside, too far away to hear, and the noise from inside the bar drowned everything out. She wouldn't be able to help you at the moment. And if Eric felt you panicking, he might not make it in time to save you.
Not recognizing him, you cautiously stand up from your seat and grope around on the desk for something sharp. You don't find anything, and you clench your teeth, halting your movements and watching the man, he tilts his head up, like he's listening for something, "Nobody can hear you in here," He concludes, rounding the desk and backing you into a corner. He's referencing the soundproofing in the room, when he closed the door, the music wasn't just muffled, it was silent, "Not with all the noise." He bares his long, sharp fangs at you, eyes hard and angry.
You shove him away from you and he flies into the wall and slumps over, a dent is left behind and you flinch at the damage and the sound of his body connecting with the wall. Eric wouldn't be too happy about that. The vampire stands, looking at you with even more anger in his eyes. He makes a sound resembling a growl and wipes some blood from the corner of his mouth.
He hisses at you, crouching low and lunging toward you, tackling you to the floor. You thrash in his hold and he strengthens his grip, pinning you to the floor with his hand on your neck, using his knees to keep your legs from thrashing about. You cry out, struggling against him, he leans down, sticking his nose into the pulse point on your neck. He sniffs deeply, stroking your hair with the hand he isn't using to hold your neck, "You smell good, I can see why he keeps you to himself." The strange vampire groans, opening his mouth and biting into your neck, his fangs pierce your warm flesh and you scream, but he doesn't let you scream for long. He pulls his hand away from your hair and presses it against your mouth so you can't alert anyone. He takes a few mouthfuls of your blood, tightening his grip on your neck as he does.
First you try licking his palm, and when that doesn't deter him, you bite him. Obviously it doesn't work, you can feel his skin mending itself together over your lips. He has no reaction, just his satisfied sighs and groans as he gulps down mouthfuls of your warm blood. Still, you don't stop fighting him, you use one of your hands to scratch at the hand on your neck. He loosens his hold but otherwise doesn't react.
Soon, you feel weaker and weaker, the tips of your toes are starting to feel cold and you're lightheaded. You barely register the door bursting open and the weight of the man being lifted off you, a different song is playing now, one you don't recognize on account of your barely conscious state. You hear a woman let out a war cry and a spray of some warm liquid coats your body, along with some gunk that makes you want to vomit. When the woman bends down to take a look at you and your wounds, you fall unconscious from blood loss and she sighs heavily, shaking her head.
"What happened?" The door flies open again, Pam is standing there, closing the door behind her without turning around. She's crossing her arms, looking at the pile of blood and guts on the floor, or what was left of the vampire that attacked you. She had an idea of what happened, she looked over at you, passed out on the floor with blood covering your body, looking pale. She notices the bite marks on your neck, not even bite marks. The way he bit you was savage, tearing into your flesh sloppily. He must've been young. First day on the job and she almost fuckin' dies, Pam thinks somberly, kneeling down beside the woman who saved you.
The bartender saved you, not Longshadow. Her name is Margot and she's one of Pam's old whores from her time at the brothel. One of her customers almost murdered her, and Pam saved her life, turning her into a vampire just a few hours after discovering her dead body. When Margot rose, she was less angry than Eric was when Pam rose. And Pam didn't mind turning a human, Margot was always her favorite anyway, "I heard a scream and I came in and he was feeding on her." Margot explains, glaring over at the puddle of blood and guts on the floor. She pulls you up by your shoulders with the help of Pam, who's pulling most of the weight.
"Any idea why?" Pam asks, kneeling down slightly so she can lift you into her arms and carry you like a baby. Margot looks over at you curiously, eyes a little narrowed. She doesn't get to answer, as Pam pulls the office door open and lugs you outside, catching the attention of most of the vampires in the bar. They're all looking at you, licking their lips as they watch blood dribble out of the wound in your neck. Margot looks at them and hisses, causing them to go back to whatever they were doing before.
The two vampire make their way over to the back of the bar, to the basement door, where they could heal you and let you rest. When Pam lays you down into her coffin, Eric returns, entering the basement with his vampire speed and kneeling down to look at you and your wound, "What happened?" He asks and Margot rolls her eyes, she already had to explain it to Pam once, now it was the same old question.
"A vampire attacked her, I heard her scream, and I murdered him, end of story." Margot shrugs from her spot on Pam's soft velvet couch, across from her beautiful pink coffin. Pam looks at the bartender, a fierce glare in her eyes and clenched teeth. Eric looks furious yet content, satisfied even. He watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, at least you're still breathing. That was all he cared about. You have a job to do, that's all. That's all he needs you for, nothing more and nothing less.
"I will heal her when she wakes, if she allows it." Eric declares, sitting on the couch, far away from his new bartender. Margot is like a niece to him, an annoying niece, but still a niece. Pam nods, sitting on the lid of the coffin, looking down at your peaceful face.
