Max was in the middle of a submarine chase, swimming after Chloe like a shark after an otter – they had just found out they could hold their breath underwater for hella long and were having a blast with it – when suddenly she lost sight of her prey. Confused, she popped her head back to the surface and looked around. Chloe was nowhere to be seen.
"Gotcha!" the young punk squealed as she popped up behind her friend and pushed her head down. Max wiggled out of her grip and came back up to the surface, spitting water at her friend who was laughing her head off.
"Not fair!" she complained. "Yuck, I drank like a whole cup of chlorine!"
"Now your insides will be squeaky-clean!" Chloe commented, still heaving with laughter.
"My vengeance will be- wait!"
Chloe stopped laughing immediately at Max's sudden change of attitude. No longer in a playful mood, the brunette looked stiff and alert, her eyes wide and aimed toward the changing room.
"What?" she whispered, worried, but Max held out her hand to motion her to shut up and took a series of sniffs. Then her look of anxious expectation changed to a look of anger.
"Fuck!" she huffed. "Them again?"
"What? Who?"
"Warren and Brooke!" she snarled. "They're here! They're just outside and approaching!"
"Are you sure?"
But she didn't need Max's answer to be sure herself, for as soon as she asked, she heard the front door open, and though she wasn't as familiar as her friend with Warren and Brooke's scents, she clearly smelled two people. A boy and a girl.
"The fuck are they doing here?" she groaned.
"I told you!" Max snapped, getting jittery. "They're stalking me! How did they know I was here? How long have they been following me? Did they see you? Oh shit oh shit oh shit, we gotta get out of here fast! Come on!"
"Wait!" Chloe ordered, grabbing her friend before she could jump out of the pool. "Wait, wait, wait, and chill out. I don't think it's a good idea to run."
"What? What do you want, then, getting caught? Are you crazy?"
"Yep, fucking insane in the brain, but that's not the point here. Look, you can't run away from them forever! I dunno about you, but me, I don't wanna spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder every fucking night just because your dumbass geek friends decided to follow you around for some reason!"
"So… w-what do you suggest?"
"I say we stand our ground here and now, and we give'em the scare of their lives."
"The hell!" Max yelped in shock. "C-Chlo, we can't do that! They're my friends!"
"Friends don't follow their friends around! They've been stalking you to this pool tonight, and it's as far as they'll get."
"You can't be serious! I go to school with them! What will I tell them when I see them again on Monday morning?"
Chloe's sharky, teeth-out smirk as she replied made the brunette gulp: "They don't need to know it was you, Maximus. Think about it, we're faster than them, we're more agile, and we can see in the dark. Trust me, hippie, they'll never know what hit them."
Max frowned as she instantly saw the gap in her logic: "Then how is it gonna stop them from following me if they'll never know I'm the one who attacked them?"
Chloe shrugged: "Maybe it won't… or maybe it will, simply by teaching them to stay in their rooms at night like good little kids. Either way, that will be a good lesson for those two filthy stalkers! And a lot of fun for us! You're in? Make it quick, they're getting close!"
"I… I dunno…"
"Come on! Think about the snack, Max! We're still an hour away from Portland, are you gonna hold it till then? Cause I don't think I will!"
The brunette felt her stomach growl upon hearing those words. It was true she was starving, and she'd been since Victoria fangblocked her. Yet, assaulting assholes like Logan was one thing, assaulting her friends was another, they didn't do anything wrong… except stalk her and stress her out. Yeah, that probably counted as a wrong thing. A good scare could get them off her ass for a while, at least, and it wasn't like they would seriously hurt them, would they? And they'd never know it was her, as long as she managed to keep a poker face about it. And she might as well steal them a few sips of blood for the trouble.
"Have you got a plan?" she asked.
Chloe's smile grew wider and more devious as she winked at her and whispered: "Yeah, listen…"
"Can you believe it?" Brooke chirped as they entered the building, the light of their phones illuminating the way. "We got the whole pool to ourselves! Better make the most of it!"
She walked to the end of the hallway and turned around to face her boyfriend who looked equally excited and terrified.
"And you know what?" she continued. "I always wanted to see what the boys' room looks like. Come on!"
And using her magic lockpick, she opened the door to the changing room and walked in. She contemplated the rows of benches and painted steel lockers and took a deep breath.
"Aaaah, I love the smell of testosterone in the morning! Well, night, but you get the idea…"
"You serious?" Warren asked.
"Nah," she laughed, "it smells like ass. But I'm glad to see it's just as bad as I thought, my curiosity is sated…"
She then drifted to the showers where she stopped to admire a graffiti:
69 REASONS TO BANG RACHEL
She chuckled: "Male poetry at its best!"
"Not mine," Warren said, "I promise!"
"I hope so," she purred, "last thing I want is to bang a dumb jock."
He had such a violent start he almost dropped his phone, and remained frozen, incapable of doing or saying anything as Brooke giggled and continued her way to the pool proper.
Did… did she say "bang"?
She did say "bang".
Nah, she was just joking. Reference to the graffiti…
Shuddup, Sensible Warren, she did say "bang" for fuck sake!
"So, are you coming or are you gonna let me swim on my own?" she called, shaking him off his reverie.
That didn't keep him from wondering about his girlfriend's attitude as he joined her. She'd been acting strangely carefree and euphoric since they got in the building. As if she'd been really looking forward to this moment… nah, couldn't be…
As he entered the pool area, though, a new thought suddenly occupied his mind.
"That's weird," he commented. "The pool lights are still on. Don't they shut them off for the night?"
Brooke shrugged: "I dunno… maybe they forgot. Blackwell ain't known for their environmental consciousness anyway, I mean, have you seen how bad the insulation is? I'm not surprised at all they didn't even bother turning off the lights. Saves us the trouble!" she smiled, then stretched and announced: "Aaah, I've been so looking forward to this midnight hot tub!"
And without further ado, she took off her backpack, her camo vest, then her shirt, and Warren's jaw hit the floor drooling as he gazed upon her bare belly, her ribs, the tantalizing shape of her breasts hugged by her bikini top…
Wait, bikini top? Why was she wearing a swimsuit?
Holy shit, he realized, she's been planning this midnight swim all along!
"Are you gonna strip, or are you gonna keep staring all night?" she teased.
The boy didn't need more to comply, and soon he was standing before her in just his boxer shorts.
"Mmmh, not bad," she commented, looking at him as if she were assessing a particularly tasty-looking pizza. Then her eyes went down and she blushed, quickly putting a hand in front of her mouth to stifle a giggle.
Warren looked down and to his greatest horror, he noticed the huge bulge in his shorts. Mortified, he stooped and cupped his hands in front of his attributes.
"S-Sorry," he mumbled pathetically, turning red as a tomato.
She shrugged: "Don't worry. I take that as a compliment."
She punctuated her sentence with a wink that made him turn an even deeper shade of crimson, then finished stripping and, turning toward the pool, she shouted:
"Leeroooooy Jenkins!"
And jumped into the water, laughing. This warcry at least helped the boy loosen up a bit, and he shouted:
"Not in the faaaaaaace!"
And he jumped as well.
"Not in the face?" Brooke asked, her voice choked with heaves of laughter. "What kind of battlecry is that?"
"Simply the most accurate battlecry ever," he explained. "After all, isn't that what you're most likely to scream as you head into battle?"
"Accurate but pretty un-heroic, if you ask me. Here, in the face, warrior!"
And she splashed him in the face. For a little while, they both laughed and splashed each other playfully, enjoying the warmth of the water, until Warren ended up cornered against the pool border, with his girlfriend pressing herself against him, a hungry look in her eyes.
"Now, big boy," she purred as she gave him a kiss. "How about we pick up where we left off this afternoon?"
It didn't take much more to convince the boy, and they made out, eating each other's tongue greedily while their hands explored the other's body, Brooke starting by ruffling his hair before slowly going down to his neck, and his shoulders, in light, feathery caresses, while he gently drew circles down her back to her ribs. Feeling her soft, moist skin under his fingers, seeing her heave and gasp at his touch, feeling her fingers on his chest, now raking at it aggressively with her nails, made his heart pond so hard he thought it was going to explode, and with each beat came an intense, almost painful throb in his loins. He wanted more of her, more, more, more, he was starving for her! Coyly, he reached a tentative hand up, but stopped before her chest and started caressing the skin just below her bikini top. She grabbed his wrist with force, as if she wanted him to stop. He froze, worried. But then, she raised his hand to rest it frankly on her breast, and feeling it under his fingers put the boy in a bliss he'd never thought possible. He felt he could stay in this pool with her forever. It was paradise.
Then he shivered violently.
"Cold?" Brooke asked as she drew her head back to look at him, and judging by her trembling frame and the plume of mist that escaped from her mouth as she spoke, she was freaking cold too.
"Y-Yeah," he said. "F-Freezing."
"M-Me t-t-too… w-w-what is g-g-going on?"
Hugging each other for warmth, they looked up and around and gasped in bewilderment. Everything had changed around them. It was like they had slipped into an alternate reality during their make-out session.
The air was cold. Polar cold. So cold that the walls, the floor, the equipment racks and the benches were now covered with a thick layer of frost. There were even stalactites hanging from the flags above the pool! And the cold, thick steam rising from the still heated water was invading everything, plunging the whole place in a surreal, ice-blue haze.
"Is this the f-f-f-fucking D-d-day After Tomorrow?" Warren asked.
"I d-d-dunno… it's d-definitely not normal. We better get outta here."
She was immediately answered by a voice that made them jump out of their skins. It was an echoing, ethereal voice, that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same. A taunting, bubbly girlish voice that said:
"Why, look! An otter in my water…"
"The fuck was that?" Brooke shouted. "Did you hear that? Hello? Who's there?"
"I don't think I wanna know," Warren answered, feeling a lump of ice grow in the pit of his stomach. "It's too fucking creepy, let's bail!"
They both hurried out of the pool, wincing as their bare feet made contact with the frosted tiles, and quickly shook the ice out of their clothes, dried up as fast as they could and got dressed. They had just finished tying their shoes when the disembodied voice echoed once more, this time humming some sort of nerve-racking tune:
"Duuuuun dun, duuuuun dun! Dun dun dun…"
"Is that the Jaws theme?" Warren whispered.
"Sounds like it, and I don't like that at all! Hurry!"
And they rushed back in the darkened showers, holding their phones in their shaking hands in front of them for light.
Don't worry, Brooke told herself as she did some quick breathing exercises to keep herself from fainting. You just need to walk through the showers, then the changing room, and the exit's not that far after that. You'll make it out in one piece…
Odd. It looks like the showers are not frozen. How's that possible?
"Fuck!" Warren yelped, making her have a mini-heart attack as she turned to face him.
"What?"
"There was something," he panted, aiming his trembling light at a corner of the room, but the girl could only make out bare white tiles.
"And what was it?"
"I don't know, some kind of shadow, it… it fucking crawled on the wall and ceiling like a lizard, or a spider, a… a huge-ass spider, but when I looked with the light… there was nothing!"
Brooke's skin crawled at the prospect of being trapped in the dark with a giant goddamn spider. Not that she was particularly afraid of spiders, but still… anyone would shit their pants when faced with a giant spider! And after all the weird stuff they'd witnessed so far… the idea of such a monster haunting the pool at night didn't seem like too much of a stretch.
"Fuck me with a pickaxe, Ren, I'm not staying here a minute longer, we got to run, now!"
And on these words, she grabbed his sleeve and made a dash for the changing room, dragging him along. Once there, she turned to the door, and ran for it.
Then, turn to the left, and the exit's just a couple feet away, we can make it! I'm sure we'll have a good laugh at this once we're safe, but right now it's anything but funny!
The door slammed in her face as if pushed by a violent gust of wind just before she made it through and she had to slam the soles of her combat boots hard on the floor to keep from crashing head-on into it.
"Fuck!"
She tried the handle. And she tried again, stronger. And even more stronger. To no avail.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" she roared. "We're trapped!"
"Lemme try," Warren said as he grabbed the handle, with the same results. "Shit!"
"What are we gonna do?"
"Calm down, Bee, calm down… I know! There's a fire exit, on the other side of the pool! Let's just backtrack and-"
He was interrupted by the voice, again. This time it fucking giggled as it uttered:
"I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't let you do that."
Then, to the couple's uttermost confusion, another, different girl's voice echoed:
"Not exactly the right quote, but fifty points for the reference."
There's two of them? Brooke wondered as she struggled to control her wobbling legs and her irrepressible need to pee. Two girls… could it be?
Loud, hollow bangs, like footsteps on metal, interrupted her thoughts, and she caught a glimpse of a shadow running on all four on top of a row of lockers, like a huge cat. But as they aimed their lights at it, it was gone.
"Okay, let's go," Warren whispered as he grabbed her wrist and started striding back toward the showers.
With a deafening clatter, all the locker doors slammed open at once, pouring their contents out: clothes, books, bags, towels, it all flew out and into their faces. A real mini-tornado. Caught by surprise, Warren got knocked down by a shoe and fell to his knees, but he quickly recovered and stood up and kept walking, stooped and raising his arms to protect his face from the onslaught. He had reached the shower and was almost at the door leading to the pool when a cry stopped him:
"Ren!"
He froze and turned around: Brooke! He thought she was close on his heels, but to his utmost dread, he now saw her lying on her belly near the sinks, a good twenty feet behind him, and she wasn't alone. There was someone on her back, wrestling her down, and all the poor girl could do was reach out a pleading hand toward her boyfriend and cry for help.
"Bee!" he shouted as his legs tensed to rush back and jump on her attacker, but before he could make a move, a cold and incredibly strong hand grabbed him by the jaw, from behind, while a foot kicked his legs to make him fall on his knees. And before he could struggle or even begin to understand what had just happened to him, he wailed in pain and fright as he felt the sting of two sharp teeth piercing his neck.
Brooke saw everything, and seeing her boyfriend attacked only increased her desperation to get away from her own assailant, but the chick – for she was pretty sure it was a chick – was strong as hell, her grip was a like a vise and there was nothing she could do but wail and curse as she felt fingers grab her ponytail and pull at it to force her head up. Next, she felt cold, wet lips against the skin of her neck. And something hard, and sharp. Teeth. Who or whatever that was, it was going to rip her fucking throat off!
But that thing didn't know Brooke Scott. For anyone who actually spent time with her knew how much she really loved gadgets, electronic devices of all kinds. Some were her pride and joy, like her beautiful B4000 EVO drone. Others were more curiosities she'd bought on a whim and never thought she'd actually use one day, like her electronic lockpick. And one of those toys she called the Canary and always kept on herself, just in case. And that case was tonight.
So with her free hand, she reached into her pants pocket and was overwhelmed with a huge sense of relief when her fingers wrapped around the small plastic device and her thumb found the activation switch.
Now you're gonna suffer, bitch!
She braced herself for the shock and pushed the button. Immediately, a super-loud, shrill siren echoed in the bathroom, and though Brooke winced in pain and was rendered almost deaf by it, she still had the extreme satisfaction of hearing her attacker roar in obvious distress as she loosened her grip on the Asian girl.
As soon as she was freed, Brooke jumped back on her feet and rushed toward Warren, whose attacker had also let go of him and was staggering, covering her ears, obviously stunned by the alarm. Brooke grabbed her boyfriend, shoved him out of the way, and kicked his attacker in the stomach, pushing her back toward the pool. Then she raised her leg and kicked her again in the face. And again. And again, until they were both out of the showers and back by the pool, and then she finished by putting all her might in a roundhouse kick to the jaw her shifu back in San Francisco would have been proud of.
The attacker fell down on the tiles, but sat up as the siren died out, looking visibly unhurt by the flurry of kicks that should've knocked her out cold, much to Brooke's dismay. And to add to her distress, she now had a clear view of this assailant in the pale blue light from the pool.
"Max?" she gasped.
Max looked up at her, hissing like a snake, her eyes flaring with a fiery glow – quite literally – and her mouth… her mouth…
Dear God, Brooke thought, she looks like a-
Before she could form a proper thought, though, she yelped as she was caught by surprise by a pair of hands that grabbed her throat and lifted her off her feet like a rag doll.
"How dare you hurt my Max, you fucking bitch!" the second attacker snarled, her face distorted with murderous fury as she increased the pressure on her victim's throat. Another fiery-eyed girl, whose identity didn't surprise Brooke the slightest now she'd recognized Max, and in spite of her struggling for air, she managed to let out:
"C-C-Chloe… P-P-Price…"
Chloe's look changed all of a sudden upon hearing her name, going from blind rage to the look of a cat caught red-handed. This only lasted a second though, for immediately then, Warren rushed in, roaring:
"I gotcha, Bee!"
And tackled Chloe so hard the three of them fell into the pool.
The impact and the heat shock caused Brooke to lose consciousness, but the need for oxygen quickly brought her back to her senses. Panicking, her lungs on fire, she swam her way to the surface where she clung to the boarder and swallowed in large gulps of air. She gasped as a hand clung to her wrist, but to her greatest relief, it was only Warren who had swam up by her side, and they helped each other up and out.
"You okay?" he asked, solicitously rubbing her back as she fell on all four, panting, spitting water, her heart drumming to the point of near explosion.
Once she'd recovered a bit, they turned their attention to Max and Chloe who were standing a few feet from them. How had Chloe gotten out of the pool so goddamn quick? There was no more fiery glow in their eyes, but Max still looked mighty pissed, while Chloe was standing a little behind her, looking mad as well, but also mighty embarrassed.
"Why did you attack us?" Brooke asked accusingly.
"What?" Max yelped in outrage. "We should be the ones asking why you've been following us!"
"We weren't following you!"
"Oh, so now you're saying we all had the exact same idea at the exact same time?" Chloe sneered.
"What were you doing outside in the middle of the night anyway?" Max added.
"What about you?"
"None of your business!"
"Likewise!"
Both sides sighed in unison. This wasn't going to go anywhere this way…
"Look," Warren intervened with a softer tone in an attempt to ease off the tension, "we meant no harm, Max, we only want to help, okay?"
"By stalking me around?" she asked with venom in her voice. "Seriously, Warren, first the cemetery, then my room, and now, tonight… what the fuck do you want? You were a little creepy before, always being after me, but I thought you'd leave me alone now you're with Brooke! And now you're dragging her into that creepy stalking shit?"
"This is not about this!" he defended himself. "And I'm sorry if I was creepy to you before, I didn't mean to, I was just… misguided… look, I like you as a friend, and I want what's best for you, okay? Brooke and I think you're involved in some real weird shit, like you may be on drugs, and pardon me for saying this, but you're sure acting like it!"
Max opened her mouth to say something, but had second thoughts and shut it. No reason to challenge him on this, she thought. Better let him believe that.
"And now," he continued, "we see Chloe's alive? Like, what the fuck is going on?"
"I told you," she growled, "it's none of your business."
"We just want to help!"
"THEN LEAVE ME ALONE!" she roared out, her voice inhumanly deep like the roar of a lion and her eyes firing up again, and at her scream the ice began to crack loudly, frightening Warren who dropped down to his knees beside Brooke. "I don't need anything, and I sure don't need you to stick your noses into my stuff!"
"Who's there?" a male voice called out from the building entrance, startling them all. "Blackwell security, stay where you are!"
"Oh shit, David!" Chloe gasped.
"Can't let him see you, Chlo! Mist out!" Then Max turned toward Brooke and Warren again to give them the death glare and added: "Stay the fuck out of our business."
And in the blink of an eye, the two girls were gone, as if they'd never been here.
"W-W-What the hell was that?" Warren breathed out.
"We'll think about it later," Brooke said, now fully recovered. "Let's bail before David catches us!"
They managed to reach the fire exit just as they saw David's flashlight shine from the boys' showers. That was close! Outside, they paused just a second to catch their breaths before running back to the dorm, just long enough to see and hear Max's truck start, drift in the parking lot, and drive off into the night.
They made it safely back to Brooke's room and were now sitting side by side on her bed. Since they had both taken off their wet clothes to dry, Warren was sitting in just his shorts, while Brooke had put on an old, loose t-shirt. They both stared at the ground, in the darkness, none of us daring to be the first to speak, to talk about what they had just been through. The impossible things they'd seen. Finally, the girl broke the silence:
"You know," she muttered, "I think I'm starting to believe your black magic theory…"
"Really? I was just about to tell you I'm starting to believe your super psychic soldier one. I mean, they, like, froze the place over and opened the lockers-"
"Did you see their eyes?" Brooke interrupted him. "They had… glowing orange eyes!"
"Yeah, I saw them. It was… weird…"
She scoffed: "Understatement of the year! No, Ren, it wasn't weird, it was… demonic! And Max fucking roared!"
He nodded: "You think…"
"What?"
"You think she sold her soul to bring Chloe back? And now they're both, like… possessed?"
"Considering the look in their eyes, I'd say it's the most likely theory now…"
"So what do we do now?"
She shrugged: "You know how to conduct an exorcism?"
"No."
"Me neither. I guess we'll have to keep searching to try and find out. We need to stay focused on Lacroix, I still believe he's the key to all this… once we figure out exactly what he did to Max and Chloe, then we can find a way to save them. In the meantime…" she sighed. "In the meantime, I think we'll have to think of ways to protect ourselves and the school from them, or… whatever's controlling them at the moment."
"Yeah… damn, they were scary as fuck."
"They were, yeah…" She put a gentle hand on his thigh and added: "You know, it was very courageous what you did. Tackling Chloe like that, while screaming 'I gotcha Bee'…" she chuckled. "Now that was a battlecry, man it was epic!"
He chuckled as well and replied cheekily: "Speaking of which… when exactly were you planning to tell me I'm dating a goddamn Power Ranger?"
"What?" she asked, confused, then giggled as she understood: "Oh, you mean the kicks? That was nothing, really…"
"What do you mean, 'nothing'? Bee, it was… like in a movie! When did you learn those moves?"
"Well, I… okay, when I was a kid, I was a big Buffy fan. But, like, a real big fan. Basically, Sarah Michelle Gellar was my role model, I wanted to grow up to be like her. Well, that was before I learned she didn't do her own stunts and could barely fight at all in real life, but anyway, I was so fascinated I started practicing in my room, or in the living room, or basically anywhere I had enough space. And by 'practicing', I mean 'throwing wild kicks around like an idiot and breaking stuff'. A lot of stuff. In the end my folks got pissed off and said if I wanted to kick things that badly, I might as well do that in an appropriate place, so they enrolled me in my neighborhood Sanda school."
"Sunday school?" Warren frowned. "But aren't you, like, an atheist?"
"Not Sunday, silly!" she laughed. "Sanda. It's some kind of Chinese boxing. And I got pretty good at it, I ended up second in the 2008 Bay Area Junior Tournament and third in the 2009 edition. I haven't been training a lot since I got in Blackwell cause there's no school around here, but I haven't lost a lot…"
"Whoa," Warren whispered, totally bewildered by this revelation. "Chinese boxing… so it's like…"
"Yes," she nodded dramatically before muttering, in her best Keanu Reeves impression: "I know kung fu."
"Bee… you're so badass!"
She chuckled and blushed at the compliment, before replying: "Ren, you're so badass too! I told you, that tackle! I thought she was gonna choke me until I died! Thank you… for saving my life."
"Thank you for saving mine too. Max, she-"
Brooke didn't let him finish his sentence: suddenly, she grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her and his lips practically fell onto hers. Once again they made out rabidly, Brooke raking her boyfriend's back and chest with her nails as Warren was stroking her legs, struggling to contain his feverish excitement. Slowly, he reached up her thighs as they kissed, and soon his hands were under her t-shirt. She stopped him.
"Ren?" she asked, red and panting.
"Yeah?"
"It's, uh… it's gonna be my first time. Thought you should know."
"Me too," he murmured.
"Do you want it? Tonight?"
"Yes. And you?"
"Me too," she whispered excitedly as she bit her lower lip and backed off a little to have enough space to take off her t-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra.
Warren gasped. His mind was blank, his eyes bulging, spellbound by the gorgeous sight that lay before him. It was the first time in his life he saw a woman's bare chest. Outside of a computer screen, that is. And Brooke's breasts were… the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life.
"Touch me," she commanded, and the boy complied, reaching trembling hands to caress her soft, smooth breasts. She closed her eyes and began moaning when he touched her tits, and this was the best moment in Warren's life, the pleasure was burning him like a branding iron, an agony, and he felt he could die from bliss if this went on even a second longer…
Then he gasped, his mind blacked out for a couple seconds, and when he came back to his senses, his heart was still ponding and he was panting like a runner, but the burning bliss had passed. And there was an unpleasant sensation…
Oh no.
Oh no!
He looked down to contemplate the disaster, and instinctively covered it with his hands, looking at his girlfriend in utmost dread and confusion:
"Oh shit I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… oh shit oh shit oh shit!"
Brooke laughed at the sight, which raised the boy's mortification to inhumane levels.
That's not so bad, he thought. No, not so bad. You can survive that. All you need to do is drop out of school right now, and move to another country, ideally a place with no Internet. And no women. Like Tibet! Yeah, good plan! I'll shave my head and go spend the rest of my life in a monastery in Tibet where nobody will ever know about-
"I've been told boys were quick on their first time," Brooke kept giggling, "but I never thought you could be this quick!"
Then, as she realized he was almost crying from shame, she quickly added: "Hey, don't worry about it, it happens, okay? If anything, it's kinda flattering. Look, I got some towels here, you clean yourself up and then let's just get to bed, okay? We can try again in a few minutes. You gonna be okay?"
He nodded, and did just as she told him. Then, as they cuddled tenderly under the sheets, the embarrassment gradually passed and they eased up, until they felt in harmony again and went on for the second try.
This time, at least he managed to get in, but barely.
Luckily, he was as insatiable as he was inexperienced, and there was a third time.
The third time…
It was awesome.
Later that night, Brooke was laying in the dark, staring at her boyfriend who was sleeping soundly by her side.
So this was also true, she thought, amused. Boys fall asleep real, real fast after sex.
She envied him, cause she wasn't feeling sleepy at all. Her mind was racing madly, struggling to make sense of the events of the night.
What happened to Max and Chloe?
Demonic possession was the most likely explanation, even though the most logical part of her self still refused to admit it.
But even so, how could they fight a demon? Should they ask Kate? Wasn't her dad a minister? Maybe he could…
Nah. Can't fight a demon until you know exactly what demon you're fighting.
Listen to yourself, Brooke! A demon, seriously? Are you really gonna believe this? You're an adult now, and a scientist, you're no longer an impressionable Buffy fan…
Wait!
Something lit up suddenly in her mind, startling her. It was something about Buffy. Buffy who fought demons and werewolves and… and…
A memory came back to her, the memory of Chloe's lips against her neck. Her cold lips and her sharp teeth… and just before she activated the Canary, she'd seen Warren's figure, trapped in Max's clutches, and Max's head had appeared buried in the boy's neck like she was…
No fucking way!
With trembling hands, she reached for her glasses, put them back on, then found her phone, turned on its light, and aimed it at her sleeping boyfriend, careful to avoid his eyes so as not to wake him up. She eagerly studied his neck, gently brushing a lock of hair aside to have a better view, and she found what she was looking for. Two red bumps, like mosquito bites, the spacing between which appeared to match the average spacing of the two upper canine teeth in a human mouth.
And then it clicked. The sensation of all the pieces suddenly falling into place was as exhilarating as its implications were terrifying.
It can't be!
But all the signs are there!
But it doesn't exist! It can't exist!
I know. Yet it's the only explanation for tonight. And for every fucked-up shit we've seen so far. Chloe's return, the camera invisibility, the super speed and strength, the storm, the frost, the doors that move by themselves, the eyes, the voice, and now Warren's bite marks… there is no logical explanation. Except this one. I know how improbable it is, but remember what Doyle said? "When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Yes, I know. But if it is the truth, it means we're in deeper shit than we thought.
I need more info. I need to make sure.
The excitement and dread brought forth by her epiphany wouldn't allow her to sleep anyway. Might as well make the best of this time. So she settled herself comfortably on her pillow, opened the Web browser on her phone, and typed in a single keyword. Clicked on the Wikipedia article. Then she started reading:
A vampire is a creature from folklore that subsists by feeding on the vital essence (generally in the form of blood) of the living. In European folklore, vampires are undead creatures that often visited loved ones and caused mischief or deaths in the neighbourhoods they inhabited while they were alive...