The dogs went into a frenzy as I closed the door behind me. Their barks ranged from high pitched squawks to the deep woofs I could feel resonate in my stomach. Making the spaghetti I had eaten earlier for dinner swish around in protest. It was a common occurrence; they were all in a foreign place, locked up in kennels that kept them from following me as they desperately wanted to do. At least this kennel offered a little more space for them than most. We had a pair of siblings sharing the same pod and they still had plenty of room for play. Yet, even after three years of hearing their barks and whines, I still felt like an asshole abandoning dogs that have already experienced it at least once before.
At this time of night, they would usually have been dead to the world but I had to tend to Jasper, a Springer Spaniel. The poor boy had come in the day before with a fractured joint in his rear back leg. He was too weak to eat or drink by himself so I've been spoon feeding him small amounts of boiled chicken and water periodically. His pathetic whimpering reminded me that I had to confirm when his surgery would be.
I covered my mouth as I yawned.
I couldn't remember the last time I didn't have the graveyard shift. When I first got the job, I accepted that I'd have to do the more unsociable hours since I was the newbie. Especially since I was just so grateful to get the job in the first place. Before the shelter, I had been going through a string of unemployed months brought on by my last retail job making me redundant. I had been the newest member of that job too, so when it had been hit by a lacklustre economy, I had been the first to go. But surely three years of working in the shelter no longer made me a newbie. I wasn't exactly sure since this was the longest job I've ever had.
I went to the employee's lounge to wash my hands. 'Lounge' may have been too generous a term since all it had was a table, some lockers -it took a year for me to earn my own-, a small fridge and of course, a sink. After drying my hands, I pulled my long dark hair out from its ponytail. I generally liked to keep it down as much as possible since it was thick enough to make my scalp ache from its weight if I left it up for too long. I combed my fingers through it, trying to calm the tempest. It was in a strange place between wavy and curly. With a little too much frizz for my liking. I glanced at the mirror to see my weary dark eyes stare back at me. The artificial lighting above my head added a sickly yellow tinge to my already wan complexion. I tore my eyes away before I looked too much at the perpetual bags hanging from my eyes.
It was almost eleven, a good time as any to take the trash out. Before doing so, I decided to give the shelter one more sweep of the broom so I could throw out as much dog hair as I could. The shelter was supposed to employ a cleaner to do all this but my boss Jake said that it would cost too much to employ one. So of course, the task was given to me since I had 'so much more time at night'. At least I didn't have to clean the toilets every shift.
With the shelter swept and the full trash bags tied, I made my way out the back of the shelter, patting the front pocket of my hoodie to make sure my keys were in there. The night air was still on the warm side despite how long the sun had been down. We were located in the industrial side of Dallas so our dumpsters were in a carpark we shared with a small candle making factory. Of course, at this time, the factory was closed so the car park was virtually empty. I gave a long, unattractive yawn as I approached the dumpster, hoping to get inside as soon as possible. For whatever reason, random guys loved to stop and piss on our dumpsters. Where they came from, I had no idea, because the nearest bar was a few blocks away. Touching the lid of the dumpster as little as possible, I quickly opened it and shoved the two bags in.
An intense sense of foreboding hit me. Made my breath catch in my throat for a few beats. Something was wrong. Did I forget to secure one of the dogs? Could they be escaping as I stood out there in the barely lit carpark? No, the backdoor was closed, I could see it from where I was standing. And I always kept the front door closed and locked after hours. The dogs were fine.
But the feeling of complete dread did not go away. It was an unpleasant mix of thinking I'd forgotten something important and being nervous about something about to happen. What that something was, I had no idea. I looked around, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. There were no new cars, the usual litter decorated the carpark and the dumpsters stank as much as they always did. Everything was as it should be.
Then I heard something that wasn't. Voices coming from the alley adjacent to the candle-making factory. It wasn't so much that they were there, but how they sounded. Sort of frenzied. Except for one commanding voice. I couldn't tell what they were saying but from their pitch, they were definitely all men.
I took a few steps to my right so that I could see into the alley without actually nearing it. What I saw only confused me further.
There were five men standing in a semi-circle formation wearing matching bright yellow t-shirts and cargo pants. They looked like camp counsellors that had been on the job for a little too long. Except for the one in the middle who was bald and visibly older than the rest by at least a decade. He was dressed entirely in black tactical gear, and holding up a crossbow. An actual crossbow. Its arrowhead sparkled in the streetlight. Baldman was clearly the leader of the group and the owner of the commanding voice. He gave another order, something about not "bein' pussies'' which barely seemed to work on the counsellors at his side.
In front of them, facing me, was a boy. Not a young boy, a teen really, but he looked like a child compared to the taller men around him. Standing beneath a streetlight, his pale complexion and light, monochromatic clothing almost made him glow. His serene expression at having a crossbow pointed at him was the most baffling thing of all.
"Don't move!" shouted Baldman, loud enough for me to hear clearly.
A couple of the counsellors were holding metal nets (nets!) and appeared to be attempting to throw them onto the boy. I took a step forward instinctively, wanting to stop the abduction that was clearly taking place. The boy's eyes flickered to me. He did not react to seeing me, as if he had already known I was there.
Phone. Where was my phone? I had to call the police. I fished into the pocket of my hoodie but all I found were the shelter's keys. Of course. Because my phone was in my locker. Like it always was during a shift.
I looked back at the abductors as they neared the boy. I was not delusional enough to believe I stood a chance against a group of armed men, even if they really were camp counsellors. I locked eyes with the boy again while pointing behind me with one hand and mimicking a phone against my ear with the other. I then made a 'wait' motion with my hands, silently imploring him to stall them for as long as he could for the calvary to shop up. If he understood what I was saying, he gave no indication. Then again, with how dark it was on my side of the carpark, he might not have been able to see me.
I took a step backwards. Then another. Then another. One of the counsellors said something to Baldman which I couldn't hear. Another step. I refused to take my eyes off of them. Baldman gave another order. If this was a horror movie, this would have been the part where I snapped a twig or tripped over my own feet, making a noise to alert the bad guys of my presence. Luckily this wasn't a horror movie and I was able to continue moving backwards unnoticed. Even the boy seemed to have lost interest in me.
Unluckily for me, I forgot about one of the most important parts of every cliche abduction scene. The getaway car.
An unmarked van came careening from my left. It was using the shelter's entrance to the carpark, likely trying to take the boy unawares. Instead, it was me who was taken unawares as it nearly clipped me. Would have if I hadn't jumped back in time, falling on my rear. I quickly sprang up, ignoring the ache that bloomed from my hip. Under no circumstances was I going to allow myself to lie prostrate for these men. Not even for a second.
I sprinted back to the shelter since I had already lost my invisibility. I wasn't the fastest runner by any means, but I managed to collide with the backdoor in record time. Hope soared only for it to plummet back down when I realised that it had locked itself behind me. The reason I had taken my keys with me in the first place.
Hands flailing, I fished out the keys from my sweater, the numerous keychains jingled against each other. With so little light, it was impossible to see which one was the key for my apartment, the shelter's front door or the one for the backdoor. Taking one at random, I stabbed at the keyhole. I missed on my first try but it went in on my second. Only for it to jam into the lock.
A large body slammed into me. Pressing me into the door that separated me from safety. They squeezed the air out of me. The only sound I could make in protest was a garbled gasp.
"Don't move! Don't you fuckin' move!" a voice seethed into my ear.
I clawed at the door, trying to find leverage to push against but rough hands grabbed my wrists and yanked them to my lower back, forcing me to arch awkwardly against the door.
"Is it another fanger?", someone shouted from behind us.
"No", grunted the one holding me, "It's a woman". I was pulled away from the door and turned to face the men.
During my mad dash for the door, they had managed to throw the metal net over the boy who, for the first time, actually looked mildly put out by what was going on. What appeared to be steam -but couldn't possibly be- was rising from where the netting met his skin. Baldman kept his crossbow trained on the boy, but he moved so that he could see me as well. "One of them fangbangers?" he questioned.
"Don't know", replied my captor, "Sure don't look like one". He gave a shove, forcing me to move closer to the group. We passed the van on our way, the driver's door wide open and the indicator still flashing. My escort must have been the getaway driver.
When we were close enough, Baldman regarded me, "You a fangbanger, girlie?"
I was too stunned to answer him. What an insane thing to ask someone you just met during an ongoing abduction. Why should it matter who I slept with? Or in this case, did not sleep with.
"He asked you a question", my captor said, squeezing my wrists tighter and giving me a jerk.
"Dear Lord in Heaven, Gabe, I think she works in that dog shelter". One of the counsellors muttered.
"What did I say about using names? Why don't you give them my address too?" questioned the one I now knew as Gabe. He reminded me of every physical ed. teacher I'd ever had. Perpetually angry and unimpressed by my inability to move around like an athlete. He took a step closer to see me better "Is he right? You work at that shelter?"
"Let the girl go. It is me that you want", the captured boy said softly.
From this distance I could see that Gabe was even older than I first thought. More likely in his 50s than his 40s. I could see how old he was. Because I was staring right at his bare face. Because he wasn't wearing a mask. None of them were. I could have drowned in the hopelessness that hit me like a wave.
Gabe seemed to come to the same realisation because he said, "No, I don't think we'll do that".
Which is how I ended up lying on my side on the floor of a van, gagged, blindfolded and with my hands tied behind my back. My shoulder blades had already begun to ache terribly at the unnatural angle they were in. I could feel eyes on me, but I wasn't sure if they were from the counsellors sitting at either side of me, or from the boy whose skin I could hear sizzling in the enclosed smell of burning flesh was uncomfortably reminiscent of passing by a neighbourhood barbecue. I knew at this point that I should probably stop thinking of him as a boy since he was clearly not, but I didn't have it in me just yet to acknowledge what he really was.
I pressed my forehead against the cold metal of the van's floor and breathed deeply through my nose. My rapid inhales and exhales were all I could hear for a time. I had to think, had to focus on getting out of this situation I had literally stumbled into. I was a big fan of murder mysteries. My mother got me into the genre when I was a child, with some of my scant memories of her involving us watching reruns of Columbo. It's how I knew that even the most prolific of serial killers often had at least one of their victims escape. And from the way some of the counsellors acted, it was as if this was their first time abducting someone (they had spent a startling amount of time arguing about what kind of knot to tie my hands with).
So, as we drove, I went through my mental catalogue of thrillers to create my own 'How to Survive an Abduction: For Idiots' guide.. First, I had to calm the hell down. Everytime panic began to rise within me, I could practically feel my synapses getting fried up, stopping me from thinking clearly. Made me do stupid things like stand still and try to unlock a door I had no chance of opening in time. The fact that I saw their faces was bad, really bad, but they still blindfolded me which must have meant they weren't entirely of the mind to murder me horribly. The van took a sharp turn but I ignored it. Even if I counted how many rights and lefts we took, there was no point. I couldn't drive so I was awful at navigating the streets of Dallas.
I'd have to remain quiet, so no loud crying or screaming no matter what they did to me. If I didn't annoy them too much, they might be willing to take off my gag and let me talk to them, tell them my name. As long as they saw me as an actual person, they might be more inclined to keep me alive. Pretty sure I saw that happen in the Silence of the Lambs.
"Hey, she isn't moving. Do ya think she fainted?" questioned one of the counsellors sitting closest to me.
"Who cares?" Gabe from somewhere at the front of the van called back, "She can piss herself if she wants, as long as she doesn't cause any trouble".
For the rest of the journey, I continued to think of all the things I should and should not do. Then I recited them over and over again so I wouldn't have to acknowledge that this was actually happening to me. We drove for less than an hour. Maybe forty minutes? It was hard to keep track of time when every second pulled and stretched themselves so that I could marinate longer in my fear. We were still somewhere in or around Dallas in any case. Something else to give me hope. I had no idea what I would have done if we crossed the border into another State.
The van drove over gravel for a few minutes. Their crunching against the wheels vibrated into the ear pressed against the van's floor. It finally came to a standstill.
"Don't take your eyes off of 'em" came Gabe's rough order. Then the sound of the driver door opening and closing.
In the newfound silence, I began to shiver.
Years later, I heard both of the van's back doors swing open then the scurried shuffling of a couple of the counsellors exiting.
"Alright, fanger, come on out. Nice and slow".
I heard what must have been the boy standing up and taking a step, the silver net scratching against the van's surfaces.
"I said slow, fanger!" shouted Gabe unfairly since it sounded like the boy was already moving as slow as possible.
After the boy left the van as well, I heard Gabe shout orders to keep the "fanger surrounded" and have all "weapons on the target". There was a great deal of movement, more than the original number of abductors could have made.
Someone grabbed my elbow and yanked me out of the van. I hadn't heard them approach and they seemed disinclined to move me carefully, so I fell out, landing on my knees. I would have smacked my face into the gravel if the invisible hand had not kept a firm grip. Wherever we were was lit up in bright lights because some of it bled through my blindfold. The hand jerked me up straighter but kept me keeling. It was the same man who tackled me into the shelter door. I would recognise that over abundance of body spray anywhere.
The crunching of footsteps approached me, "Now what in God's name is this?" asked a nasally voice I did not recognise.
"Caught her watching us when we were capturing the vampire", explained Gabe, "She made a run for it so I figured I should bring her too so you could decide what to do with her".
"A Race Traitor?" Nasal asked. I could feel his judgemental eyes travelling over me, "The Creatures of Darkness will lust after anything won't they?"
"She might not be a fangbanger, looked like she was just working at a nearby dog shelter".
"At this time of night? Unlikely. You!" he said louder, presumably to me, "Have you lain with this Creature of Darkness?" I tentatively shook my head. "Have you ever lain with a Creature of Darkness?" I shook my head again with more certainty. Apart from the fact that it was the truth, it also appeared to be the answer they wanted to hear. "We shall see about that. Throw her in with the Creature".
Throw me in they did. Bodyspray didn't bother to remove my gag or blindfold. Just shoved me into a room with an amused "Have fun" as his only form of farewell.
I stood shivering in the silent room. I couldn't tell if I was alone or if there was a faceless killer waiting for me in the dark. Panic rose within me again, furious that I had not let it overcome me before. It pushed against my mind's ability to reason, and attempted to wash me of it. To stop me from thinking. But I had to think. Had to focus on what I needed to do next.
First order of business, take the damn blindfold off.
I squatted down and angled my arms so that they were now dangling underneath my thighs. Rocking back so I landed on my rear, I pulled my arms up and over my bent legs, ignoring the pain it inflicted on my abused shoulder blades. I yanked the blindfold and gag off.
The room was dark but with a little light coming through the windows. I didn't like that I still couldn't see the boy even though he must have been in the room with me. Who else could the 'Creature' be? "Uhm…Do you mind if I turn on the lights?" I whispered into the room.
"I do not", he said from somewhere in front of me, slightly to the right. He definitely did not have the voice of a boy.
I flicked a switch next to the door we came through to flood the room with artificial light. I blinked against it as my eyes adjusted. We were in a classroom of all places. One fit for a small number of people with only about ten or so desks facing a whiteboard, their chairs stacked upside down on top of them. There were posters decorating the walls that did not appear to depict the usual school slogans but I passed over them. I could investigate them more later. Behind the desks, space had been made for blue training mats to lie on the floor. In the centre of them stood a training dummy that someone had glued cheap looking fangs where the mouth would have been. A large bullseye was drawn onto its left upper chest.
The boy was sitting against the wall adjacent to the dummy, looking for all the world like he was waiting for a bus. The net was still on him, tied into place with the same rope that was on my wrists. Rivulets of blood streamed down his face and arms.
"Doesn't that hurt?" I asked lamely.
He looked at me with what might have been curiosity, "No more than I can handle".
I cleared my throat, "Do you want me to take it off you?"
"I do not think that would be very wise. You are locked in a room with an injured vampire after all".
He said it. He said the word that had been dancing at the back of my mind since I first saw the silver net. I thought I would feel fear when I finally acknowledged what he was, what I had been left alone with, and I did to an extent. But I felt hope too. Vampires were supposed to be fast and stupidly strong. Having him as an ally would up my chances to the extreme. If I was able to convince him that I'd be more useful as a fellow escapee and not a midnight snack.
I squatted down next to him slowly so as not to startle him. "It doesn't seem fair. They gave you a shiny silver net while all I got was this lousy rope", I commented as I lifted my bound hands to pull at the knot that kept said net in place. I took quick glances at his face as I tried to untie it, looking for any sign that he was about to lunge. But he remained perfectly still, his stare unmoving. I don't think he even blinked. Perhaps vampires didn't need to.
"You are not reacting as you should", he said as my numb fingers pulled uselessly at the rope.
"Sorry, I've never been abducted before. How should I be reacting?" I fancied that I could see amusement in his eyes. But that was probably wishful thinking. I dropped down to my knees as I tugged harder at the knot. It must have been the most convoluted mass I had ever seen.
"Humans tend to scream and cry when placed in a situation such as this".
I nodded in agreement, "I guess I'm saving that for later. Can you hold on for a second? I'm gonna look for something to cut this".
As I went to stand, the vampire suddenly pushed his arms out, snapping the rope right off. He didn't even have to strain himself. He could have done that the entire time. I blinked at him, perplexed, wondering if this behaviour was the norm for vampires. Did they enjoy being tied up?
"I doubt they would keep a blade within access of their prisoners", he commented simply.
I kneeled back down and took hold of one end of the net, "I'm gonna take the net off now okay? Do you want me to do it slow or fast? "
"It matters not. In either case there will be pain".
Hopefully not too much pain that he would attack me for it, "Alright. I'll do it quickly then to get it over with".
I took a deep breath to prepare myself. I couldn't believe that this was happening. My life was not one made for so much excitement. It was made for quiet, solitary nights of reading or watching TV. Yet, in the space of two hours, I had been tackled, abducted, locked up, had my first conversation with a vampire and was now about to free said vampire. Who would likely eat me the second I did so.
He must have noticed me hesitating because he said, "You do not have to. Your instinct to keep a predator weakened is natural. It would be best for you to follow it".
I looked him in the eye, unable to tell what colour it was. Something light, like blue or grey. Neither of which were darkened by judgement. It seemed he was genuinely speaking on my behalf. That only strengthened my resolve rather than break it; besides, I was never one for doing what people thought was 'natural'.
I yanked the net up and over him in one fluid motion then threw it to the ground next to us. Pieces of his skin went with it. The skin of his upper right cheek bone being one of the largest pieces he lost. He hissed loudly. Bared fangs that couldn't have possibly been there before. They were so long, he had to open his mouth slightly lest he pierce right into his gums and jaw. I stopped breathing. Stopped moving. Hands up in defence. He closed his eyes for a moment and we both seemed to wait to see what he would do next.
His fangs clicked away, "Excuse me. You took me by surprise".
"It's alright", I quickly said, "I thought it would be better if you didn't see it coming. Are you okay? I didn't mean to take so much off of you".
"I am well. The wounds are already healing".
He wasn't lying. I gaped like an idiot as I watched his skin literally stitch itself back together in real time. There wasn't even a scar when it was done. That was a trick I would not mind having right about now.
Then he did the oddest thing and used his fingers to scoop up some of the blood on his skin before popping them into his mouth. "I cannot risk going into bloodlust", he explained.
Nodding, I said, "Yes of course", as if I understood, "I bet I'd do the same if I bled chocolate". He gave me another curious study. How I was able to tell when he didn't change his expression, I did not know.
Thinking it would be better to give him some time and space to finish doing whatever he needed to do, I decided my time was better spent learning about the room we were in and finding anything that might help us escape. The walls were made of cheap white metal, like the kind for temporary buildings some schools put up on their grounds if they need to quickly produce more classrooms. I went to one of the windows and pulled aside its heavy blackout curtains. Only enough for one eye to peek through without (hopefully) anyone outside being able to tell. Because there were indeed people outside. From the window, I could not see if there was anyone standing on the other side of the door, but I did see silhouettes carrying some variation of firearm or crossbow walking around the building. I couldn't see their features because of the bright floodlights pointed directly at the building we were in. There was no way we would be able to sneak out unnoticed. I didn't bother checking if the door was locked.
I passed the posters on the wall on my way to the teacher's desk. They were all in shades of yellow and blue, proudly portraying quotations such as 'We are the Light' and 'Band together for a safer, Sanctified World'. I found the one saying 'A good fanger is a dead fanger' to be a bit on the nose. On the whiteboard behind the teacher's desk, someone had written the phrase: 'Above all, there is one purpose to my life, and that is to honour God by protecting and uplifting my brothers and sisters in Christ - Regardless of the sacrifice'. For some reason, that was the one that sent a chill through me.
The desk ended up being a wasted effort. As was the closet adjacent to it. I didn't find much besides a little stationary. Not even an apple or a 'World's Best Teacher' mug. There was a spare black rain jacket in the closet which I could use as a makeshift blanket to sleep under at least. I doubted my captors were planning on moving us to somewhere more comfortable any time soon. I returned to the vampire.
"Feeling better?" I asked. He was back to waiting for the bus only now covered in a little less blood.
He gave me one nod, "Did you find anything of use?"
"Apart from this jacket, no not really. They must have cleared the room before putting us in here". I rifled through the jacket's pockets just in case. They too were empty.
"May I ask for your name, child?"
"I'm older than I look", I said automatically before realising that it may come off as a rude thing to say.
He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he actually smiled a little, "As am I". There was something very endearing about his formal turn of phrase. A bit like how some elderly men spoke to me when they were in the kind of good mood that even a bit of sunshine could make their day. But with a lot less 'sweethearts' thrown in. I wondered at his age again. Perhaps he was old enough to be my grandfather. "I am called Godric".
I repeated his name back to him, enjoying the sound and feel of it, "That's a great name. I'm Eleanor Phillips, but I go by Leanor. Nice to meet you".
"I doubt it is that nice. I apologise that you were forced to come here as well. It is a wonder that they did not believe that you were an innocent bystander when you smell so strongly of dog". I flushed and resisted the urge to sniff myself. Did I smell that bad? "But then, I no longer recall how strong human senses are", Godric finished. A moment later, he added, "Bring your hands closer".
I did so, slowly, leaning forward instead of simply moving closer to him. I wanted him to believe I trusted him even if that wasn't entirely true. Without touching me, he pinched both sides of the rope still binding my wrists and with a flick, tore the rope in half. It was frightening how strong he was, "Thank you".
"Thank you", he said, nodding to the silver net next to us. The blood on it had already started to turn maroon as it dried in the open air.
"Why did-" I began, searching for the right way to ask my question as I rubbed absently on my sore wrists, "Why were you there in the first place?"
He did not answer straight away. In fact, he did not answer for so long that I had accepted he wasn't going to at all, but then Godric said, "There was recently an attack on one of my acquaintances. There is a warehouse in the area that has recently gone up for sale". I knew which one he was talking about. A street over from the candle making factory had a warehouse that used to belong to a phone company. One of the android ones if I remembered right. It was where they stored some of their products until a few months back when they had to cut expenses and put it up for sale. I only noticed it because there used to be a guard that worked outside it that gave me the biggest stink eye everytime I walked past. Never did find out why.
"I had been asked to determine whether or not it would be a good facility for our purposes, thus I told her to go check in my place. She is quite young and was not paying attention to her surroundings. She was ultimately shot".
"Oh God, is she okay?"
Another curious look, "Of course. She is vampire".
I picked up the jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, feeling myself begin to shiver again, "I'm pretty sure getting shot is unpleasant for anyone. Human or vampire".
I couldn't tell if he agreed but he did clarify that "She has fully healed. However, I was still duty bound to inspect the area of the attack".
Pulling my legs up, I rested my chin on them and let my eyes wander as I processed what he said, "Thank God they didn't shoot you too".
"They had no reason. I did not resist".
"Why not? Do you know them?"
"I have not made contact with them before this night". I noticed that he neglected to answer my first question, but I wasn't going to push him. I was happy with any scraps of information he was willing to give me.
Going for another approach, I asked instead, "Did you tell anyone that you'd be going there tonight?"
"Only a few of my acquaintances".
This vampire had a lot of acquaintances. "So either the counsellors have been going to the same spot every night waiting for another vampire to pass by or…
"Or there is a spy in the nest" he finished, and this time he did not bother to hide what he was feeling. Godric's face turned to stone. Even more so than the white marble his complexion usually was. He stared off to the side and I could tell that he was going through every person who might have known where he would be tonight. If a rat had infiltrated his 'nest' I doubted they would be staying hidden for much longer. "It would explain the perplexing way in which they are both organised and unorganised".
At my questioning look, he surprisingly elaborated, sounding a lot like a lecturer I had once upon a time, "They are organised in that they had silver-tipped arrows, silver nets and guards already stationed to keep us in here. They are unorganised in that they were also carrying guns with standard bullets, brought too few men to apprehend me and did not lock me in a silver cage. The only thing silver in here is the door handle".
I glanced at said door handle but couldn't tell it apart from any other one. Perhaps he could just sense it. "Meaning, they probably just heard that you were going to be there and decided that it was too good a chance to miss even though they weren't completely ready".
He gave me a short nod, "I did not inform anyone of my plans until 2 hours before sundown".
We fell into silence for a while as I mulled over what this could mean. I was never much of a talker so my exhaustion had eaten up pretty much all of my social skills. A couple of times I caught myself dozing even though I stubbornly refused to lie down. There was always the chance that the counsellors would come back and I wasn't going to be caught sleeping. Especially if one of them was Bodyspray. At some point in the night, I got up and gave the room another peruse, looking for anything that I might have missed the first time. There was a broom in the closet with a rather hefty handle. Worst comes to worst, I could maybe use it to hit someone.
It was while I was attempting to sharpen a metal ruler against the edge of a desk that Godric suddenly announced, "The sun will rise soon". He had been so still for so long that I jumped at the sound of his voice even though he had not raised it.
I glanced at the blackout curtains on the windows, "Will they be enough to keep the sun out?"
He did not even bother to look at them, "No".
I stared at him wide eyed "So sunlight might hit you at dawn?"
"From the direction that the room is facing, it is more likely to reach me when it sets".
I did not think the time of day was what Godric should have been focusing on. Vampires were secretive by nature (no matter what that woman on TV said) but there wasn't a person on the planet who didn't know how detrimental sunlight was to them. "What should we do? Should we try and ask them to take you somewhere else?" I suggested even though I really did not want to talk to the counsellors any time soon.
"It may be safer if I die for the day in the closet".
Yes, of course! I quickly went to the closet and opened it. I felt its interior, looking for any gaps in the construction to find none. On the bright side, the counsellors had already cleared it out for us. On the down side, "There isn't much room in here for you".
"You need not worry", Godric said from right behind me. I hadn't even heard him stand up. "I will not be sleeping after all".
"Hold on a sec", I murmured as another idea came to me. I went to the teachers desk where I retrieved masking tape -which they used to put up their posters- and a black whiteboard pen. "After you go in, I'll tape the seams of the door then colour the tape with the whiteboard marker. That should hopefully block out the sunlight completely".
Godric stood at the mouth of the closet, but instead of entering, he turned and gave me a long look. He was about an inch or two shorter than me so I hoped he wasn't one of those men who disliked looking up at a woman. "You are putting a lot of effort in allowing me to safely go to ground".
I didn't know what that meant or how to respond so I simply nodded. That must have been enough for him, because he entered the closet without any further ado. The door closed behind me with a loud click.
I quickly went to work sealing the seams of the closet door. I had no idea when exactly the sun would rise so I wanted to get Godric secured away as fast as possible. I applied two layers of masking tape onto the seams of the door. I was tempted to add a couple more but our supply was limited and I didn't know how long we would be staying in that classroom. It was disheartening that I was already thinking about rationing what little I had. Colouring the tape with black ink did not take as long as I thought it would so I finished with about ten or so minutes to spare.
While I waited for daybreak, I pushed one of the mats flush against the door for added protection and a second one on the floor adjacent to it. With my work done. I sat heavily against the mat-covered door.
Godric was right about the blackout curtains not being enough to keep the sunlight out. I was able to watch the change of the cold floodlights turn into the warm sunlight through the little that peaked around the curtains. I couldn't hear any movement from the closet despite leaning my head on it, so he must have already gone to sleep. Or died. Whatever it was they did.
I was so tired. Late night hours may be the norm for me, but not for so long. Not like this. Not with so much stress and fear and new experiences I never asked for. And poor Jasper. He was likely lying in the shelter whimpering for water, wondering why I wasn't there to help him. The tears that had been vying for release came out in thick streams. I let them. No one would know that I had done it. No one had since I was a child.