The small group of photography students were chilling and chatting in their classroom, waiting for their teacher to show up, when the door opened and Wells entered.

"No need to stand up," he said as some of them were starting to lift from their chairs or get down from their tables. "I'll be quick."

He took a quick look around, wet his lips, rubbed his hands, and said: "I… have received an email from Mr. Lacroix last night, informing me that he had to take the first flight to Paris to deal with a family emergency. Unfortunately, since he has no idea how long he will have to stay in France he went on prolonged leave, which means photography classes are cancelled until we can find a suitable replacement. I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience, but rest assured we will do everything it takes to keep this situation from impacting your grades. Thank you for your understanding."

Then he walked out, leaving a group of puzzled students in the room.

"Do you know what happened?" Kate asked Max.

Max shook her head: "No idea, I didn't see him last night, and he didn't send me a text or anything."

The Christian girl nodded, but couldn't shake off the odd feeling she'd had in her gut all day. Max seemed… wrong, somehow. She didn't know how else to put it. Apart from the fact that she'd showed up late this morning and looking very tired – "Looking like shit" as Courtney put it – she'd been acting quite like her kind normal self, asking her and Stella how they were doing, hanging out with her, and they'd also had lunch together, but still… something felt off to Kate. Something had felt off for quite a while…

And what was that odd, shifty look she'd exchanged with Victoria when Wells had announced Lacroix's leave? It wasn't a look of surprise, more like a look of… embarrassment? Guilt?

As she looked around the room, lost in these thoughts, her gaze met Taylor's, and the other girl gave her a funny look, just before she grabbed her phone and typed a quick text. A second later, Kate's own phone buzzed.

Taylor Christensen: wtf?

Taylor Christensen: dd u see that look on Vic & Max's faces?

Kate Marsh: I did

Kate Marsh: do you know what it means?

Taylor Christensen: not a clue, but funny shit is going on atm, meetup 2 talk about it l8er?

Kate Marsh: sure

After a while, the students started leaving the classroom to go enjoy their unexpected free time. After telling Kate and Taylor that they were going to check out on Joyce, Max and Victoria went to the parking lot.

"Well," Victoria said as she sat with her girlfriend in the truck, "that day didn't go too badly, I guess."

"Hu-hu," Max replied absent-mindedly, kneading her elbow.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little stressed out I guess. Finding out that Brooke and Warren know and see me as a monster is pretty tough you know, and I still haven't processed all the shit from last night."

"I get that. Me neither, kept having nightmares of being chased down the street by a crawling flaming skeleton that kept calling 'Mademoiselle Chase! I promise I'm not enjoying this!'. I was so scared!"

"Oh, Tori, I'm so sorry I put you through all this…"

"Don't be. I chose not to bail, remember?"

"Thing is… I still can't make sense of it. It all went so frickin' fast! One moment Rachel was back and everything was fine, and the next moment, shit hit the fan at the speed of light! I mean, I understand Lacroix was stressed out finding out we told Joyce and David, but the second he saw Rachel, it was like he'd turned into a completely different person. Like there was nothing left of the Lacroix I knew, just this… drive to kill her like… a Terminator."

"Can't be bargained with, can't be reasoned with?"

Max snorted: "Something like that, yeah. Dork."

"I told you."

They giggled together, but Max's apparent lightheartedness faded quickly and she shuddered.

"Tori, I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" Victoria asked, sitting closer to take her in her arms. "It was terrifying, yeah, and we'll probably have nightmares about it for the rest of our lives, but he's gone. Whatever happened to him, it can't happen again."

"What if it can?"

"What do you mean?"

Max shrugged: "Remember what David said, last night? What happens if one of you guys gets angry? Well we saw what happens. We saw him turn into a murder machine, and we don't even know why. What if… what if it's something that we all can do? I mean vampires. What if it's in all of us?"

"Are you afraid of turning up just like him? But Max, you can't! Look, I don't know what got through him for him to snap like that, but we don't really know him. For all we know, he might have been deranged from the start and pretending to be a nice guy. Just like Jefferson, remember how he made us all swoon before we found out the truth about him? But you… you're you, Max Caulfield, the sweetest, kindest girl I've ever met."

"You're forgetting Kate."

"Kate is so out of our league in terms of kindness she doesn't even count. Seriously though, you, turning into a monster? Not a fucking chance."

"I'm not too sure, to be honest. I don't really know who I am anymore… not since yesterday."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want it to end this way! I didn't want Lacroix to die! When I grabbed this gun, it was to slow him down so we could tackle him or… whatever to calm him down. And it was the scariest thing I'd ever done up to that point, pulling a gun on someone. But then… then I saw him tear Chloe to shreds, and something snapped. All I was thinking then was that he'd kill her for stepping in, and I had to help her, and the beast came out."

"The beast?"

"That's how I call it. You see, ever since I became a vampire, I've felt this… thing, inside of me. It's like I have two personalities, one is the Max you know, the other is that kind of fearless predator, and I can feel it screaming to come out. First time it did come out was when I pushed Logan in the hallway. It wasn't intentional, I was so mad I lost control. Then I learned to let it out in a more controlled way, like… uh…"

"Like when you outdrank Logan and then kissed me and took pills with me?"

"Yeah, the whole party I was on beast mode and it was so awesome! But there were also times I failed to control it properly and did some real stupid shit. Yet, I never allowed it to take over completely, I didn't know what it could do if I did, and I felt I wouldn't like it. Until…"

"Last night?"

She nodded: "I called the beast so I could save Chloe, and I let it control me entirely. I grew claws and I was… like a wild dog, in my head nothing mattered anymore, I was dead set on killing Lacroix, suddenly it was my only goal in life! And… it makes me sick to consider it, but he knew more about vampires and stuff than we do, for all we know, he might've had a good reason to be scared of Rachel, least I could do was listen, give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe we could've resolved this without killing anyone, cause seriously, you've seen Rachel, haven't you? She's fine, I mean, I never met her before but the way she talked and all, looked like she was herself, so I don't see any reason to want her dead. But the second I saw Chloe fight him, peace just stopped being an option in my mind, and… I really wanted him dead, I wanted to rip his head off with my teeth! That's why I… I'm scared. I'm scared of myself, of what I've become."

Victoria remained silent, meditating somberly on those words. Save Chloe… Chloe… it's always about Chloe, isn't it?

Eventually, she murmured:

"Before Lacroix showed up, when I looked at Rachel's face, I had an intense urge to kill Jefferson. I'm not a physical person. I've always been taught that physical violence was beneath me. And no matter how much of a bitch I could be to people… I never seriously wanted anyone's death. Yet… when I saw the damage on Rachel, when I saw how miserable she looked, how far she was from the Rachel I knew and… didn't love… and when I thought this was all Jefferson's fault… I could actually see myself rip his heart out of his chest. I could almost feel the warm blood stick to my fingers, and hear his screams of agony..."

"Wowser!" Max murmured, her mouth agap. "That… sounds intense!"

"It was, yes. Really scary. But this is to make you realize… that beast you're talking about, I think I have it too. I don't think it's something specific to vampires, everyone has it. If anything, it's more spectacular for you guys because you have all those… powers and stuff, but the feeling behind it? I can relate. You freaked out because people you cared about were in danger, you haven't become a monster, Max. Your powers may be scary, but your feelings are as human as they get. As for Lacroix? Too bad for him. You're afraid you lost control? He lost control first. You've been a vampire for less than a week, he was two centuries old, you'd think he had enough brains to talk about his concerns like a fucking civilized person before going straight for the kill. Seriously, I had respect for him before last night, but seeing him freak out the way he did? His death is his own doing."

"I… guess you're probably right. Thanks, Tori."

"Anytime, little hipster waif."

Max chuckled: "Little hipster waif who's after your blood."

"Ooo, I'm scared."

"Don't challenge me."

"Or what?"

Smirking at each other, the girls moved closer.

"Or this," Max purred, and their lips met. Their kiss was long and passionate, until Victoria pulled out suddenly, surprised to feel her girlfriend's fangs come out.

"Sorry," Max mumbled sheepishly.

"Don't be." Victoria chuckled. "I guess I should take it as a compliment?"

"You should."

"Well, then…"

Victoria looked around swiftly, and once she was sure the parking lot was empty, she blushed, bit her lip, and to Max's flustered delight, took off her necklace and opened the first two buttons of her blouse to expose her neck.

"Wowser!" Max murmured, blushing hard. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, silly. Come on, I'm sure you're hungry."

Max drew closer, her heart drumming in her chest. She was literally starving, and the scent of Victoria, expensive perfume over soft, flawless skin, was truly intoxicating. Focusing on her tender neck, she could almost see the vein throb through it, dark red and full of sweet, sweet blood. Her fangs tickled with anticipation, her breath short. Unable to hold back a moment longer, she penetrated her vigorously. Victoria gasped, and her hands clung to the brunette's back, her fingers digging deep into her shoulderblades, as Max suckled at her life fluid with relish. Each time Victoria felt the full force of her blood being drained from her, she clung harder and moaned louder, her thighs throbbing, her eyes shut, her mind blank, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. She could feel she was getting weaker and dizzier, but it didn't matter, feeling the fangs through her skin, feeling her blood being sucked, knowing Max wanted her, wanted her so completely, wanted to feed on every last drop of her being was so intensely intoxicating that she…

"Wait!" she called, suddenly opening her eyes. "Stop, please!"

"Something wrong?" Max asked with concern after letting go of her. Victoria was panting and sweating, her face a deep crimson. "Oh crap, did I take too much?"

Weak, Victoria shook her head and took a moment to catch her breath: "No, you didn't. Just…" she looked away, brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead and, with an sheepish smile, said: "Just, if you keep going like that we're gonna need, uh, more privacy, so… my room or yours?"

Max looked confused for a second, then her eyes lit up and her bloodied lips parted in a ravenous smile as she understood.

"How about… we try doing it in a coffin?" she offered.

"At the lair? But… what about Chloe and Rachel?"

"Chlo sent me a text a couple minutes ago, they're heading off to Joyce's. We'll have the lair all to ourselves."

Victoria's cheeks burned at the prospect of doing it in a coffin. Now that was a new experience that definitely tickled her fancy. Dating Max was opening her to a whole new world of kinks, and she was enjoying that.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?"

"Why are we waiting here?" Kate asked.

As they'd agreed, Kate and Taylor had met up, and Taylor had also asked Courtney to come along, and the three of them were now standing in the dorm hallway just outside of Brooke's room.

"Cause there's something fishy going on with Max, Victoria and Lacroix, and I believe Brooke and Warren are involved somehow."

"What the hell have those two losers got to do with it?" Courtney asked.

"Those two losers are my friends!" Kate snapped back at the brunette.

"Yeah, whatever…"

"Look, girls," Taylor said, "it's gonna be hard for you to understand, cause myself I don't get shit, but… this morning, before we left for breakfast-"

"Without me," Courtney grumbled.

"Court, this is not what it is about, can we stay focused please? I'm talking major shit here. Okay, so before we left, Warren came to ask me a favor. A really weird favor."

"A threesome with Brooke?" Courtney sneered.

"Court, for fuck's sake!"

"What's a threesome?" Kate asked.

Taylor's mind literally glitched at this question.

For real, Kate? Oh God, you're way too innocent for this world…

"It's, uh… we'll talk about that later, okay? So here's what he wanted me to do…"

On these words, the blonde took a stack of papers out of her bag and showed these to her friends. Kate studied the papers with interest: these were all portraits of men in their late thirties/early forties, all looking serious like for an ID picture. Some were black and white, some were grainy with washed-out colors, while others looked modern. All in all, there were six portraits that looked like they'd been taken at different periods between the 19th century and now. Kate instantly recognized the most recent one.

"That's Lacroix!" she said. "But… what are the other pictures? Who are these men?"

"That's the thing," Taylor explained. "What Warren wanted me to do was take a good look at these pictures and tell him if, in my humble opinion as a Photoshop wiz – his words, not mine – it was possible for all these photos to be edited. More specifically, if these photos could be produced by editing a single original portrait…" she searched the pile and produced the one she was looking for. "This one," she said. "Looks familiar, Kate?"

The young woman studied the portrait. It was a black-and-white picture that had the familiar aspect of a daguerreotype, depicting a gentleman with bushy sideburns, a high collar and a large tie, in pure 19th century fashion. She frowned. "Yes, he does look familiar, but… wait, that's a portrait Lacroix had in his house. Isn't that Louis Daguerre's first apprentice? Belfort or…"

"Pierre-Marie de Beaufort," Taylor corrected, feeling thankful Victoria wasn't here to comment on her pronunciation. "Yes, that's him."

"Wait wait wait," Courtney intervened, rubbing her temples. "So, Warren asked you if it was possible to make all the other pictures in your stack out of this portrait of this Beaufort guy?"

"Weird, right?" Taylor confirmed. "But that's not the fishiest part of all. You see, I found out that-"

"Are you guys sure Max and Victoria aren't around?" Brooke asked, startling the three girls. They hadn't heard her and Warren walk in on them.

"Brooke! Warren!" Taylor said. "I was just about to tell them-"

"Yeah, what you found, but before you do, where are Max and Victoria?"

"Uh, I think they're gone. Kate?"

"I saw them leave, Max said they were going to see Joyce."

"Positive you saw them leave?" the Asian girl asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Not a good place to talk here, let's get inside."

Brooke unlocked her door and got into her room along with Warren, followed by the three increasingly perplexed girls.

The three guests gasped in awe as they stepped inside and Warren locked the door behind them. That bedroom… it looked just like a serial killer's dungeon! Knowing Brooke's hobbies, it was no surprise to see the Star Wars-themed rug and bedsheets, her precious drone sitting on her desk with a wide array of tiny tools and electronics around it, the collection of Funko Pop figures and other collectibles, the shelf crammed with sci-fi novels and manga, or the power metal posters on the wall… but why in the world were there so many crucifixes and holy medals and kabbalistic symbols and church candles scattered on virtually every inch of free space on the furniture? And books on the occult, and vials of holy water? And what was this big board on the wall opposite the bed, covered in a white sheet? And… was that garlic they smelled? The girls looked around the room to locate the source of the smell and finally spotted the wreath of garlic nailed to the wall just above the door.

What the holy…

"Have a seat," Brooke said as she waved toward the bed and sat down on her chair, Warren leaning on the desk next to her.

A little wary, the girls complied.

"So, Taylor," Warren said after a moment of uneasy silence, "you were about to tell them what you found? By the way, thank you again for that."

"N-No problem," Taylor stuttered. Then she cleared her throat and went on: "So, uh, yeah, I compared the pictures as you asked me to do and… I found several oddities. Look."

She slid off the bed to kneel on the floor and laid out the papers in front of her for them all to see.

"First thing that struck me," she explained, "is how alike all these guys look. I don't recall Lacroix telling us he was actually related to de Beaufort, and I don't know who are the other guys, but even if they were all family, that's pretty strange. So I analyzed these portraits more in depth and what I found was that, if you remove the superficial differences, like hairstyles, facial hair and stuff like that, these six guys have the exact same face structure."

There was a moment of silence during which they could see Brooke and Warren's eyes sparkle with excitement. Eventually, Courtney asked:

"Meaning?"

"Meaning it's the same face in all these pictures," Taylor said. "Just slightly modified so it wouldn't look too obvious at first sight."

"So you confirm five of them were Photoshopped from the de Beaufort portrait?" Warren asked.

"I can't really confirm anything, but I took a closer look and, if this is a Photoshop job, it's really, really well done. Especially Lacroix's picture, it's almost perfect. The other ones are a little rougher, which is understandable if they've been edited before Photoshop, or even… before computers. Editing tools were a little more primitive back then, and the results can't be perfect."

"So there are flaws?"

"Yes. For example, if you look closely at this one," she pointed to one of the older colored ones, "and compare it to a black-and-white one, you notice that the play of light and shadow isn't quite right, and that could be a defect left from the coloring process. Another example, if you zoom in like hell on the jawline – or zoom in as much as possible at least, those paper copies ain't exactly high-def – you can notice a slight fuzz that can be a leftover from when the facial hair was erased from the original pic. All in all, there's a number of little defects like this that lead me to think that, yes, it is possible that five of these portraits were produced by editing the de Beaufort one. Though I can't really understand why someone would bust their ass doing that."

Brooke looked at Warren: "I knew it," she said with barely contained excitement. "I fucking knew I was right!"

"Okay, now, care to explain?" Taylor asked.

"I don't think you need to know that," Brooke said. "Thank you very much for your help, Taylor, and if you need anything, like help for a science paper, you can-"

"Fuck that!" Taylor shouted. "You're not getting rid of me with a thank you and promises for help with my homework, it doesn't work this way! I feel like there's something super fishy going on. Victoria's acting weird, Max is acting weird, there was this freak power surge yesterday with Kate's panic attack and her statue that fucking cried blood, and just the day Warren asks me this weird as fuck thing with those pictures, Lacroix is gone! And I got a feeling it's all related somehow, so I want to know what you guys are up to!"

"I agree," Kate intervened. "After lunch, I saw Max and Victoria share a cigarette. Max always hated smoking! I don't recognize her anymore, it's like she's a completely different person. And when Wells came to tell us Lacroix was gone, the way she and Victoria looked at each other… like they had some kind of secret. And I saw how you guys acted, I mean Warren, you're one of Max's closest friends here and you haven't even looked at her all day, are you mad at her for something?"

"I thought we were close friends," Warren said somberly. "but… she's not the Max I thought I knew…"

Silence. Everyone turned to the only person who hadn't spoken up yet, Courtney.

"What?" she said. "Don't mind me, I'm just here for the drama."

Brooke sighed: "You're not giving up, are you?"

The three girls in front of her shook their heads as one.

"Alright," she said, throwing her hands in the air as she stood up. "Kate, you're Max's closest friend here, and you two are Victoria's friends, so I guess you deserve to know. But before we get further into this, wait a sec."

She opened a drawer from her desk and produced two small crucifixes on silver chains, which she presented to Taylor and Courtney.

"Kate, you got one already," Brooke said, "but you two are gonna need that. Be sure to keep these on you at all times from now on."

"Oookaaay," Taylor said as she took the gift with a hesitant hand and examined it.

"Courtney?" Brooke insisted, as the brunette didn't touch hers.

"Fuck no," Courtney said, "I'm not taking that."

"Fuck's sake," Brooke groaned, "I'm an atheist and I'm wearing one, it's not gonna kill you!"

"Oh it can do worse than that," Courtney protested. "If my grandparents find out I have one of those, I'll never see the end of that shonda!"

"Shonda?" Kate asked, confused.

"It means 'scandal' for you goys," Warren explained. Then the boy, chuckling, gave Courtney a wink and took his necklace out from under his shirt so she could see the Star of David pendant. "Looks like we got the same grandparents."

Courtney was lost for words. Taylor laughed.

"There," she said, "and you thought you were the only one at Blackwell!"

"How come you didn't know?" Brooke asked.

"Contrary to what some idiots say on the Internet," Courtney explained with slight exasperation, "we're not a secret society hell-bent on world domination, so we don't all know each other. And we don't keep a small bag of gold on ourselves either."

"Though I sure wish that part was true," Warren mumbled, which made Courtney giggle and soon the boy was laughing with her.

"Okay, Mazel tov to you guys," Brooke said, "but can we get back on topic, please? Courtney, if you have a Star of David or something of the sort, please be sure to keep it with you at all times."

"But why do you insist on that?" Kate asked. "Are you setting us up to fight a demon or something like that?"

"Something like that, yeah." She took a deep breath as she grabbed the white sheet covering the wall. "Okay, showtime."

And she drew it, and the three girls gawked in disbelief at a large corkboard filled with various photographs, drawings, engravings and notes, all linked together by meters of thread that formed an intricate pattern.

Oh my God, Courtney thought, so they really are paranoid maniacs!

"And this is how we've come to the conclusion that Max was turned into a vampire, and she used her powers to resurrect Chloe, thereby turning her into a vampire as well," Brooke concluded.

Having finished her exposé, recounting everything from her first sight of Max and Lacroix together to their fight in the swimming pool and the epiphany she'd had afterward, Brooke turned to her audience and was met with three pale faces and three sets of wide, incredulous eyes. The silence was getting heavy.

"Vampires?" Taylor finally said. "Vampires as in, drink blood, immortal, stakes through the heart and all that shit?"

"Yes."

"I found it hard to believe at first," Warren intervened. "But… we had several theories, and this is the only one that checks out. It explains everything, Max's changes, Chloe's return, the weird-ass weather we've had for the past week, including that super creepy stuff last night, and dang, Stella got fucking bitten in the neck and drained of her blood! I know how crazy it sounds, but I gotta admit… it stands."

"And you believe Lacroix is the one who turned Max in the first place because… you saw her drink his blood, or at least you think she did, cause she might as well have kissed his arm for some weird reason, and he doesn't show up on your camera?"

"Right. Of course this ain't much, that's why we broke into Wells's office in the first place, to look into his record for evidence. And here's how our final piece of evidence ties everything together! Look."

She pointed to a page from his record pinned on the corkboard and said: "This says he was born in Nogent-le-Rotrou, in France, on April 14th 1972. Alright, so far so good. So I woke up mad early this morning and actually called the Nogent-le-Rotrou city hall, pretending to be a private eye working on an inheritance case, basically Lacroix's old American uncle had died and made him the sole heir so I had to look for him. It was a nightmare, trust me. First, it's crazy expensive to call France, and second, it took them ages to find a single motherfucker who actually spoke more than two words of English, and these frogs are so suspicious it's-"

"To the point, Bee," Warren interrupted her.

"Right. So I finally got my answer, and this is where it gets interesting: they do have a Sébastien Lacroix on record: Sébastien Hubert Félix Lacroix, born on April 14th 1972, parents Marcel and Marie-Angélique Lacroix."

"So it checks out?" Kate asked.

"It looks like. Except that the Lacroix family died in a car crash in 1975, and little Sébastien didn't make it. He was three years old."

"Could be a coincidence," Taylor suggested. "Maybe that's a pretty common name in France?"

"Not in this town, and not with this birthdate, I asked them to check."

"So… you're saying he lied on his birthdate and hometown? What does that have to do with those pictures you asked me to check?"

"Taylor, Taylor, Taylor, I'm sure there's a working brain somewhere under that glorious golden mane, use it! Look."

The Asian girl pointed to the portraits still sprawled on the floor. "This one is Lacroix alright. This one belongs to his mentor, a guy named Claude Doumergue. He got lowkey famous in the 1980s, producing portraits of stars in the daguerreotype tradition. Actually, I found an interview of him boasting about being taught by a guy who was taught by a guy and so on all the way to the very first disciple of Louis Daguerre himself. This guy." She pointed to the picture. "Pierre-Marie Octave de Beaufort, born in Berziers, France, in 1812, died in London in 1864."

Kate nodded: "That's the speech Lacroix gave us alright."

"Right. The other portraits here are some of the other photographers of this lineage, those I managed to get some info on. It should be noted that there's hardly any picture of Lacroix available anywhere online but this portrait. No candid shot, no casual selfie with a celeb, nothing like that. And this shot, this posture, the eyes, it looks oddly similar to all these other pictures, as Taylor noted. Now, considering Taylor just confirmed it was possible for all these pics to be Photoshopped, the conclusion is…"

She paused, expecting, but all she got for an answer was three pairs of wide eyes.

"Come on, girls, make an effort!" she groaned. "It's so fucking obvious he pulled a Highlander here!"

The three girls frowned as one. "A Highlander?" Courtney asked.

"Yeah, Highlander. Christophe Lambert, gratuitous lightning, completely anachronic use of a katana just because it looks cool, soundtrack by Queen?"

"Is this a movie?" Kate asked, a question which earned her a set of puzzled looks.

"Don't tell me you've never seen this movie?" Brooke asked.

Kate blushed. "No," she admitted coyly. "But it sounds intriguing, I mean the soundtrack was made by a real queen?"

This time, her question was met with a collective gasp.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Queen the band? Radio Ga Ga, Bohemian Rhapsody? Freddie Fucking Mercury?" Taylor yelped in utter bewilderment.

"No," Kate replied weakly as she shrank, blushing even harder. "Is this a rock band? Because my mom didn't allow us to listen to rock. And she kept a close look on what kind of pop we would listen to. I only got to listen to Katy Perry because my mom knew her from back when she was Katy Hudson the Christian singer, and she thought it should be okay, but yeah, I don't know a lot about rock bands."

Taylor sighed. "Nevermind, come to my room after dinner, I'll take care of your music education. Jesus H. Christ, what kind of mom bans her kids from listening to Queen?"

"And," Warren added as he took out his phone and typed something in, "I'm adding Highlander to Kate's must-watch list. You know, it's starting to get long."

"We should have a movie night," Brooke suggested. "Cross some items off that list."

"Would you bunch of dorks please get back to the point?" Courtney groaned. "This whole shitshow was mildly entertaining so far, but it's gonna get old fast if you keep drifting off topic."

Taylor gently but firmly tapped her leg. Brooke's eyes shot daggers at her: "Courtney, I'm not holding you here, you know. If you're bored, you're free to make some room."

"Nah, I wanna see how far you're going to go to convince us there really are vampires roaming around Arcadia Bay."

"Okay," the Asian girl said, shooting her a look that could kill an entire army, "then let's get back to it. I mentioned Highlander because in the movie, the character played by Christophe Lambert hides his immortality by faking his own death once in a while and bequeathing his fortune to a dead baby whose identity he then steals. The real Sébastien Lacroix died when he was a kid, but a guy named Claude Doumergue stole his name and took it as his own."

Saying this, she grabbed Lacroix's picture and theatrically ripped it.

"And he did that before," she resumed before taking Doumergue's picture and ripping it.

"And before, and before…"

Slowly, methodically, she ripped each portrait but one which she held in triumph in front of her audience. "The long line of masters and apprentices? It's an illusion. None of these guys ever existed, all along, there was only this one guy: Pierre-Marie Octave de Beaufort."

She paused, enjoying the effect of her words on her captivated audience.

"A-are you saying our photography teacher really is… two hundred years old?" Kate asked.

"You're goddamn right."

"But," Taylor intervened. "If that is right, and I insist on the if, why bother Photoshopping his own old portrait over and over and changing it? It would be easier just to take new pictures once in a while."

"Taylor, have you been paying attention? He can't take pictures of himself, vampires don't show on film, and I'm willing to bet they don't show in mirrors either! His only way to make himself a new ID is to create a new portrait by editing the last picture of him when he was a human: this old daguerreotype!"

Taylor frowned: "Wait, if that's true, how come nobody noticed before?"

Brooke shrugged: "Easy, you want to live in America, you're white and rich enough, do you think someone will bother checking if your European papers are truly legit?"

"Yeah, right," Courtney scoffed as she got up. "I think I've heard enough. Look, you two dorks should really go easy on that roleplaying crap. This is the craziest shit I've heard in my life, and believe me, as a member of the Vortex Club I hung out with Nathan Prescott so I know crazy."

Brooke sighed: "Well, I kind of expected a reaction like that from you girls. Look, you don't have to believe us, of course, but-"

"Brooke?" Kate asked, her voice coy and anxious.

"Yes?"

"That thing you told me about how plaster can look like it bleeds… that wasn't true, was it?"

"Nah. Sorry, Katie, I lied to protect you, but your angel really did cry blood last night. And no, it's not a natural phenomenon, it's like ten different levels of Gothic weird-fuckery."

Kate nodded. "Okay," she said. "I believe you."

"You what?" Taylor erupted in disbelief.

"I believe them. Look, I know it sounds insane, but as a believer, I know that there are things out there that science cannot explain, so I'm open to… shall we say otherworldly things. And their exposé was really convincing. I've known something was wrong with Max for quite some time, and their explanation is the only one that stands."

"Kate, this is ridiculous," Courtney said, "their exposé is delusional as hell! You can't believe Max is a fucking vampire just because she developed a taste for leather jackets, smoking and bad attitudes!"

"No, of course not. I've been thinking a lot about the way she changed and had several ideas, some happier and some… scarier. I thought she was getting more confident since she came out of the closet and started dating Victoria. Then I thought it was her depression making her do things that were so unlike her, like when she yelled at me because of my mom. Then I noticed how she was always so pale and tired, and how she barely ate anything, when she did actually swallow something it was just miso soup, and I started fearing she might be on drugs or something."

"This is actually a pretty logical conclusion," Courtney said.

"But that does not explain this other thing I've noticed, about her. Something scary and… and impossible, and… I saw it twice and I just couldn't wrap my head around it… until now."

"What is it?" Warren asked.

"First time I saw it was just before she yelled at me, we were having tea and the sun shone bright through my windows. The second time, that was on the bleachers, after I took that ball in the nose, she was next to me, and…"

"Kate, what is it?" Brooke insisted, burning with impatience.

"Max, she… she has no shadow."

Silence.

"She what?" Taylor asked.

"She has no shadow," Kate repeated. "And by that I mean nothing, it's like… like the light shines right through her, like she's not even there." She let out a nervous snicker before she continued: "To be honest, I thought I was going crazy. But now Brooke told us about how she doesn't show up on her drone's camera and it makes sense… I'm willing to believe them."

"Bullshit!" Courtney spat out.

"Courtney, I know how it sounds, but if you'd seen what I've seen, I'm sure you-"

"Look, Kate, you have your beliefs and stuff, but don't be so gullible, please! They're nuts! Just listen to yourself, you just said you believe in vampires! Vampires, for fuck's sake!"

"I'm sure you have a better explanation," Brooke sneered, "and I'd love to hear your theory."

"You do? Okay, genius, we've all seen Max walk around in broad fucking daylight! Now how do you explain that? If she were a vampire, she'd be long turned to dust!"

Brooke shrugged: "Unless vampires are not really affected by sunlight."

"Uh, ding dong! This is, like, the second main feature of vampires, next to the blood drinking!"

"No, it's not. Fun fact: vampires are not harmed by sunlight. It's never been one of their features."

Courtney snorted: "What do you make of, like a century's worth of movies and books?"

"A century's worth of bullshit. Listen, girls, what do you know about Nosferatu?"

"The movie?" Taylor asked.

"Yes. The original, from 1922."

"Well, we've seen it, in Media Studies."

Kate shuddered: "I remember, it gave me nightmares!"

Taylor gave her a funny look: "Nightmares, really? Wow, you don't watch a lot of horror films, do you Kate?"

"No! Never, I hate horror films!"

"Warren," Brooke said, "please note that when we have a moment, we'll add a couple horror classics to Kate's must-watch list."

"I'd rather not, thank you very much."

"Don't worry," Warren reassured her, "your must-watch list is already so long, you'll have ample time before you get to the horror films!"

"Yeah, and we can start with the softer stuff, Poltergeist, The Woman in Black…"

"As interesting as this horror movie talk sounds," Courtney interrupted, "what's the deal with Nosferatu?"

"I'll tell you a bit of trivia about the origins of this movie. Originally, Friedrich Murnau wanted to make a straight-up adaptation of Dracula, but he couldn't secure the rights. Remember, it was 1922, Stoker had been dead for just ten years, so good ol' Drake was still far away from public domain. Anyway, he went on with his adaptation anyway, but to avoid any lawsuit, he made a number of changes to the story: the action is set in Germany instead of England, Dracula was renamed Orlok, he used a rat motif instead of a bat one, and – and this is where it gets interesting – he changed a couple things to Stoker's vampire lore, the most important one being the vulnerability to sunlight, which is revealed in the climax. An awesome climax that still works today, damn this guy was good! It was so good, in fact, that when Todd Browning made his own official adaptation of Dracula in 1931, he kept the vulnerability to sunlight, although his own climax was so fucking retarded. I mean, Drake just gives up in the middle of a chase because it's bedtime, so of course he gets staked, whoever thought this would make a good, suspenseful-"

"To the point, Bee," Warren gently interrupted her again.

"Yeah, so to sum up, those two movies got so popular, the idea that vampires can be killed by sunlight made its way into pop culture and now everyone see that as a fact."

"But it's not?" Kate asked.

"No! If you look at before Nosferatu, all the OG vampires – Dracula, Clarimonde, Ruthven, Varney – they could walk out in the sun alright! And the folk tales these characters are based on do not mention sunlight as a deadly weakness at all! If anything, it weakens them : Stoker mentions that vampires can't use most of their powers during the day, and in general they don't like sunlight so they prefer to sleep and come out at night. Hence the sunglasses Max has been wearing all week!"

"So that's why you want us to keep crosses on us?" Taylor asked. "To repel them?"

"Yes."

"But, wait, you're talking about fictional characters here. How can you be sure this will work in reality?"

"We can't," Warren answered. "Every writer and filmmaker has taken his own spin on the vampire mythos, some can be killed only by a wooden stake, others by silver, some are afraid of religious symbols, others aren't… even trying to go back to the original vampire lore is tricky, because there are so many different sources, virtually every country has its own vampire, and our European-style vampires have nothing in common with the Chinese jiangshi, or the blood-drinking evil spirits of Inuit legends, for example. Even the Chupacabra could be seen as a kind of vampire. But we found out that a lot of Lacroix and Max and Chloe's features conform to the description given by Stoker: they're pale, they have fangs they use to drink blood, they're physically very strong, they can disappear, and they have some sort of power over their environment, which would explain the weird storms we've seen this week, and how the swimming pool turned to a freezer in a couple of minutes. From then on, we can safely assume they share the other characteristics as well."

"Meaning," Brooke took from here, "that they should be vulnerable to religious symbols and garlic and a stake through the heart, decapitation or fire should kill them."

"You're not really thinking of killing Max, are you?" Kate asked with dread.

"No! Of course not, but I like to think of all the possible outcomes. Better be prepared."

Courtney rolled her eyes and scoffed: "Oh God, you guys really are into this. What's the next step, tell Victoria her girlfriend is a vampire? I'd love to see how she reacts to that!"

"No need," Brooke said, "I had a talk with her this morning. She knows."

"What?" all three girls yelped as one.

"Victoria knows?" Courtney asked. "And you really expect me to believe that?"

"Ask her," Brooke challenged her.

Courtney scoffed, but when she saw Brooke was staring at her, unflinching, she started growing uneasy. Is she really fucking serious?

"Okay, I got enough of this bullshit. We'll leave you guys at your little fantasy games, but damn you really should see a professional before you end up hurting someone! And Kate, I'm disappointed, I thought you were smarter than that! Just stay away from us from now on, you bunch of psychos! You coming, Sweet T?"

Courtney was heading toward the door, but stopped and turned around when she realized her friend hadn't moved from the bed. She paled.

"Tay-Tay, why aren't you getting up?"

"Well, uh," Taylor mumbled sheepishly.

Courtney gasped: "Don't tell me you believe them too?"

"No I don't!" the blond replied hastily. "I mean… not entirely, but they kind of have a point. Things have been really weird around lately, and there's definitely something fishy with Lacroix. I, uh… I kind of want to see where this is heading."

"Fine. I see you chose to take a ride to Looneytown too. I so didn't expect that from you."

"Wait, Court!" Taylor screamed as she sprang up and ran after her. "You gotta admit there's been weird stuff going on, don't you want to find out what's the meaning of this?"

"Um, no. Definitely not if it means having to sit around this serial killer's lair listening to that crap for a minute longer."

"But what about Victoria? She's our friend, what if she's in danger?"

"Fuck Victoria!" Courtney roared. "She's not my friend! I saw how she changed ever since she dated Max! I saw how everything changed! The Vortex Club used to be elite, we were so above everyone else, people whould beg us to be let in! See what it's become? Now we're mingling with the losers and our president doesn't see a problem with that! And now she's into this... vampire fetish thing too? If that is true, then she's lost all my respect. It's time for me to do what I must do: I'm calling an exceptional meeting of the Vortex Club to elect a new president, and once elected - because of course I'll be elected - I'm kicking her out. You got one last chance, Tay: you come with me, back to the right side, among the sane crowd, or you stay and play with Mulder and Scully there, and I'm kicking you out too!"

Taylor didn't answer, she just stared at the girl she thought was her friend, in silence, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Courtney opened the door and slowly stepped outside, then turned around, challenging Taylor to follow.

Taylor didn't.

Courtney nodded. "Okay," she said. "Have fun making tinfoil hats."

And on these words, she slammed the door shut and they could hear her angry footsteps echo down the hallway.

"Bitch," Brooke muttered.

Without a word, Taylor returned to her seat next to Kate and wiped her tears.

"I'm okay," she murmured to Kate as the girl started consoling her. "Thanks."

Then she turned toward Brooke and Warren, an intense look in her eyes:

"Brooke, I just want to make this clear: I don't like you."

Brooke nodded: "Feeling's mutual, Blondie."

"Yeah, I thought so. Anyway, I said that just so you understand that, normally, I'd just laugh in your face for all this. But… I-I don't believe you… not yet, anyway. But you have some good points. And Victoria's my friend. My real friend," she added with a scornful look toward the door. "So if she's in danger as you think she is, then I got to do something to help her. But I really hope you guys are serious, otherwise you have no idea what kind of hell I'll put you through."

"Duly noted," Brooke said.

"And I swear," Warren said, "this is not a joke. We're not playing. There's real serious shit going on, and Victoria's right in the middle of it."

"So you were saying Victoria knows?" Kate said. "But… isn't she afraid or anything?"

"Victoria's hopeless," Brooke said. "She's a blood doll now."

"A what?"

"A blood doll. You know, a vamp tramp? A sucker slut?"

Kate winced: "Is there a way for you to explain what you mean without the bad words?"

"Basically, she's willingly offering herself to them. They keep her around as their own walking and breathing pantry, and she's so spellbound she doesn't even realize what a bad place she's in."

"How come?"

"I dunno. Maybe she truly believes Max loves her. Maybe she gets some sort of sexual kick out of it. Either way, she's pretty much fucked."

"What do you mean, fucked?" Taylor asked.

"In all the stories where this kind of stuff happens, and believe me there's plenty, there are three outcomes for the blood doll: one, they keep feeding on her until she dies of exhaustion; two, they grow tired of her eventually and get rid of her; three, they decide she deserves a promotion and turn her."

"Turn her, you mean, into a vampire?"

"No, I mean anal. Of course into a vampire! Which would probably be the best outcome for her, but not for us, cause it would mean one more vampire out there."

"Wait a second," Kate said, "are you sure it would be a bad thing? I mean, Max has changed okay, but she still acts mostly like herself, how can we be sure they are malicious?"

"Yeah," Taylor added, "did Victoria tell you anything about them? Like, what they want or something?"

"According to her, Max and Chloe's goal is to prove that Wells and Sean Prescott knew about Jefferson and the Dark Room and actually helped him."

"What?" Kate yelped.

"Seriously?" Taylor asked.

"Seriously. Here," she said as she picked up a stack of papers on her desk to show them, "is what we found in Wells's computer when we broke into his office. I printed those but didn't have time to put them on the board yet. It's not hard evidence, but there's definitely something here, they may be right."

"Wait, if they're right, then… I mean, this is huge! Don't you think we should focus on that instead?"

"Well, Jefferson is behind bars, Wells and Prescott don't pose an immediate threat on us. Max and Chloe, however… I don't think they'll stop after taking them down, as most of their known attacks have nothing to do with them. They attacked us. If we take into account Logan's mad ramblings about a demon that looked like Max, we can safely assume they attacked him – although I'm willing to admit the bastard had it coming – and we don't know what happened to Stella last night except she lost a lot of blood, so we can assume they attacked Stella as well."

"Oh!" Kate gasped all of a sudden, startling them all.

"What is it, Kate?" Warren asked.

"I just remembered something… Taylor, you remember what Alyssa said this morning? About what Stella told her?"

Taylor frowned: "No, I don't, wait, was it about…"

Then she paled as her eyes grew wide and she let out a whisper of "Holy shit…"

"What?" Brooke asked.

"Stella, she said… she said she must have suffered some kind of hallucination because her attacker looked like a zombie Rachel Amber."

"No fucking way!" Brooke roared.

"They brought Rachel back too?" Warren asked.

"Wait, you think this was true? That they also turned Rachel into a vampire?"

"It's possible. Holy crap, that means they're multiplying already!"

"What do you mean, 'already'? You expected them to make more vampires eventually?"

Brooke went to her bookshelf and produced a copy of Salem's Lot.

"We've been considering this possibility," she explained as she showed them the book. "In this book, King describes a town under a vampire invasion. I know it's fiction, but the setting is strangely similar to what's happening here: a European vampire moves to a hick American town and turns its inhabitants into vampires, one person at a time. Lacroix shows up, few days later Max becomes a vampire, then Chloe, and now Rachel, and maybe Victoria next. Four vampires already, maybe five soon! At this rate, how many will there be in a month?"

She pointed at Kate and said: "What if Max goes after you next?"

Then she pointed at Taylor: "What if Victoria goes after you after she gets turned? Look, I don't know what's really going on with them, but I know it's not good news. They attack people, and there's the weird weather, and the… thing, from last night. Kate had a panic attack, but she wasn't the only one to feel bad. I felt something too, like a knot in my guts, a deep feeling that something terrible is going to happen. Question is, can I count on you girls?"

Kate took a moment to meditate, fingering her golden cross, and finally said, softly but sternly: "Yes. I will help you. Max and Victoria are my friends, and if they got themselves involved in something sinister, I want to be here for them."

Taylor hesitated. This whole thing still seemed so insane! Vampires, for real? Yet… their arguments were pretty convincing. And that feeling Brooke was talking about? Yeah, she felt it too. It had started just like her description, a cold knot in the pit of her stomach, and Victoria's cryptic phone call telling her to make sure her door was locked didn't help her to get rid of the feeling. Actually, it had never left her, she still felt like when she had too much coffee, all jittery and with twice her normal amount of bathroom breaks, coupled with an odd mood, like a lingering sense of impending doom. Knowing that Brooke felt the same way only made her more anxious. It is said that animals can sense several days ahead when an earthquake or a storm is going to strike, and get increasingly nervous as the catastrophe gets nearer. What if… it was how they were feeling now?

She took a deep breath and said: "Count me in."

Brooke nodded: "Thanks, Taylor. Thanks, Kate. I appreciate. Just the two of us, I was afraid we wouldn't be up for the task, but now there's four of us, maybe we can truly make a difference."

"So what's next?" Kate asked. "Have you got a plan or something?"

"Yup." She turned back to her board and pointed at the picture of Lacroix in the middle of it. "I told Victoria we'd stay off their backs as long as they don't hurt anyone, but that doesn't mean we can't investigate on Lacroix. I think he is the key to understanding what's going on. He's the one who turned Max, and right after that psychic blast or something sweeps all over town, he disappears claiming he has to go back to France, odd coincidence, don't you think? My best bet is, he's hiding, what for, I don't know, and that's what we've got to find out. Our best chance is to strike by day, when he's most likely to be sleeping, or at least at his weakest. This way, we capture him, find out everything we can about vampires, and then… destroy him."

"Destroy him?" Kate gasped. "Are seriously ready to kill him? You would kill a man in cold blood?"

"Well, he's not really a man anymore, is he?"

"I can't believe you're so... callous about this," Taylor said.

"He's a monster, we have to do what's right!"

"What if his intentions are not harmful?"

"After everything that happened already? I'd bet my eye they are."

"There's something else," Warren said. "There's... another point we haven't mentioned yet about vampire lore. In many stories, if the sire, the original vampire dies, all the vampires he's sired go back to normal. They become human again."

"You mean..."

"Maybe we can get the old Max back if we kill Lacroix."

"But you can't be sure?"

"No. Not yet."

"And what happens to Chloe then? And Rachel? Will they be dead again?"

"We don't know."

Kate shook her head: "Then I'm not okay with that plan. There's got to be another way to bring Max back to normal without killing anyone, including Chloe and Rachel! Or if there isn't any, we've got to try and understand them, we don't know for sure they're evil! They didn't kill anyone! But you, Brooke, you're so sure they're dangerous that you're ready to kill to stop them! Don't you see the problem here?"

Abashed by the intense look of dread and disappointment in Kate's eyes, Brooke gave in. She sighed and said: "You're right, I'm sorry. Look, I just want it to be clear, I'm not a cold-blooded killer! Hell, I never hurt anyone or anything outside of a video game! But I'm scared! There, I said it, I'm fucking terrified, shitting in my pants knowing there are real vampires roaming around this school at night! I just want to feel safe, and I feel like we're the only ones who can do something about it, because we know, and we believe! So... okay, we'll have it your way. We keep a close watch on Victoria, make sure she's not in danger. Taylor, I'm counting on you for that."

Taylor nodded.

"And we go after Lacroix, find out everything we need to know, and then we'll decide on the best course of action. If we run into him and he really is not evil, he will understand our concern, right? And if he goes after us, we'll only be defending ourselves. Does that seem okay to you, Kate? First, info, then, act."

"You promise there will be no unnecessary violence?" the Christian girl asked.

"I promise."

"Me too," Warren said. "To be honest, I'd rather not hurt anyone if we don't have to."

Kate nodded, satisfied: "Then I'm in. To understand what is happening to Max, and see what we can do."

"So what's the plan," Taylor asked, "break into his house?"

Her lips parted in a triumphant grin as she said: "Exactly. So gear up, girls: tomorrow morning, we're skipping school and commencing Operation Portrait of Ruin."