The ice in my veins turns to blood in your hands

by pondsrosessongs

Summary:

Thankful it was over, but not thankful for the creature who ended it, they stared as the bourreau left the village with rage. Their rage was as red as the eyes of the vampire who’d slain the other. As they watched their loved ones' houses grow over with vines, belongings collecting dust in bedrooms they’d never enter, the hunger for revenge grew in its place as time passed on.

So when an opportunity arose to help rid any passing vampire through the town they took it. They congregated in the town hall, a meeting called, stating that they would act together and deliver any bloodsucker to the hands of their savior. "Leave it to me", he said, "I’ll make sure they’re taken care of."

And he had. He’d made sure every single vampire that had the audacity to trample on the grounds their loved ones once graced, never saw the light of day again.

OR: Vanitas and Noe go to a small town to investigate vampire disappearances and get a little more than they bargained for.

Chapter 1: Prologue

A hundred miles outside of Paris stood a small village nestled into the woods. The trees cleared to make room for the settlement, which had a single dirt road that ran through the town. A series of houses littered the sides of the streets along with the few stores they had needed. A bakery, repair shop, town hall, and a small restaurant were a few of the structures that brought liveliness to the town folks lives on a daily basis. There was peace and serenity in the expected, the redundancy of life a comfort. 

But when a vampire attack had broken the mundanity of the town a few decades ago, killing several of the residents, the survivors had since been starved by their need for revenge. Long gone were the days of idle play and pleasantries toward the strangers that passed through. These people were their classmates, lovers, friends, parents, children - and they had been ripped away so unjustly by a vampire with voids for eyes. 

So when its head rolled from its body after a light haired bourreau’s blade sliced through its neck, the villagers just watched it roll across the ground. Further destruction meant nothing, the damage had been done.

Thankful it was over, but not thankful for the creature who ended it, they stared as the bourreau left the village with rage. Their rage was as red as the eyes of the vampire who’d slain the other. As they watched their loved ones' houses grow over with vines, belongings collecting dust in bedrooms they’d never enter, the hunger for revenge grew in its place as time passed on. 

So when an opportunity arose to help rid any passing vampire through the town they took it. They congregated in the town hall, a meeting called, stating that they would act together and deliver any bloodsucker to the hands of their savior. Leave it to me, he said, I’ll make sure they’re taken care of. 

And he had. He’d made sure every single vampire that had the audacity to trample on the grounds their loved ones once graced, never saw the light of day again.

Chapter 2: Chapter 1

Summary:

This is a lot of setup for the next chapters, but it does set up some good stuff so I think it's still worth the read! I'm probably biased though, but I hope you like it anyways!

- N

Vanitas grunted as they threw him back onto the concrete floor of their cell. His hands and knees hitting the rough pavement as he coughed up a small amount of blood from the blows they had landed to his stomach, over and over again. 

He knew it was dangerous coming here, even more so for Noe than himself. This village had been ravaged by a vampire attack a few decades ago and the townsfolk were not kind to any who even slightly fit the mold of it. So when they tried to land a punch onto Vanitas after he had been running his mouth, Noe’s eyes flashed red just for a moment before catching the offender's arm. 

That’s what landed them in jail.

They had been taking turns the last day and a half being beaten around, Vanitas largely being questioned why he was traveling with a bloodsucker. When they examined his neck and found the mark that had blossomed on his collarbone they called him a whore - a blood whore. Vanitas supposed they were right in some way about that. 

“Vanitas,” Noe ran over, placing a hand against the small of his back. He rubbed circles there as the human caught his breath. “Are you alright?” 

“They took my gloves, Noe.” He spit out some blood to the wall beside him before flipping over and laying down onto his back. Noe sat on his knees, pulling Vanitas’ head onto his legs. “I’ll have to get new ones.” 

Noe looked down at the man’s hand. The blue lines weaved across his skin, giving it a tint of the same hue. It had completely encased his fingertips at this point and continued to spread up his arm until his sleeve cut off the rest of it. 

“It looks worse,” Noe murmured, grabbing Vanitas’ hand in his. He undid the buttons on the cuffed parts of his sleeve, pulling back the white fabric to reveal that it was now running almost all the way up his forearm. The vampire unbuttoned a few of the top buttons on his shirt after loosening his blue bow and placing it on the floor next to them. His shoulder was still clear from what Noe had seen so he pushed up Vanitas’ sleeve further, determined to find the pattern's ending. Just above the elbow, the blue spikes stopped. Half of his arm was now encompassed by the mark. Noe’s face morphed into a frown.

“You should have told me. When did this happen? After the last fight?” He pressed and Vanitas sighed in his lap in response, staring at the wall. Drops of water ran down, leaking from the small window above.

“You’re not allowed to interrogate me when I’m injured, Noe, it’s simply unjust.” 

“Vanitas,” Noe warned him. 

“I’m just saying, mon cheri, shouldn’t you be looking after me instead of bombarding me with questions?” Vanitas looked up at him, the innocent sparkle in his eyes betrayed by the smirk on his lips. “It seems you haven’t even noticed I’m bleeding yet.”

“We both know that’s not true,” Noe said, annoyed. Noe could smell the blood thick in the air. He often smelled it before Vanitas even noticed he had been injured. His hand was on Vanitas’ stomach, putting pressure on a shallow slash he had earned from one of the people questioning him - Gabriel, Vanitas believed the man’s name was. “How long did you plan on avoiding telling me?” 

Vanitas sighed, looking back down at his hand before holding it up in front of him. It had gotten quite bad. His skin was adorned with crystalized spears that climbed out from a middle point, the fragmented branches of a spring off like a tree. It worried them both something was growing inside of him. A life he could not contain inside him forever. A life that would one day burst out of his chest or take over his mind, leaving this Vanitas a distant memory.

“It upsets you,” He said, nonchalantly. Using his other hand, he ran his finger over the knuckles that lay pressed against his stomach. “So truthfully, as long as I could.” 

“I appreciate the honesty, try not to hide it from me next time.”

Noe breathed out in frustration throwing his head back, water droplets dripping from the ceiling. He watched them collect together, furrowing together in warped sections of the concrete. There were small cracks that ran throughout it, water leaking in from there. It hadn’t rained though, Noe realized, so where was the water coming from?

Everytime they were brought out and brought back down here they had bags over their heads. Noe suspected that his time to be gathered was quickly approaching based on their relentless approach to barely let them spend time together, probably afraid they’d plot against them and escape. The Book of Vanitas would have helped, but they snagged it from Vanitas’ waist and flung it on a nearby table before throwing them behind the bars. He could see it, partially obscured by a wall, on the small wooden table in the hallway. 

They heard voices talking, the shadow of footsteps passing by the small window that kissed the top of the ceiling. Vanitas immediately jumped up, throwing himself between Noe and the assailants who would be entering at any moment. A hand rested on his shoulder and the raven haired man looked up at his partner. 

“It’s okay, there’s no need to do that. You’re tired and it won’t matter if you put up a fight.” He tried to sooth him and it almost worked, his soft voice sounding convincing. It was both logical and illogical at the same time because he had stepped in front of Vanitas every single time they had come down for him, but the cuts and blows that Noe had received from it all were already healed. Vanitas’ wasn’t. 

How do you let someone you love get willingly dragged away though? Knowing you’d be able to hear them scream minutes later, for sometimes hours on end? Vanitas was beaten for sure, but mainly he was repeatedly questioned, sometimes he was just left in the dark alone, but Noe they tortured.

The white suit the tall man wore was covered in dirt and blood. Slashes in fabric where a knife sliced against his skin, red crimson still staining the hole as evidence it happened even if nothing showed on his skin. He could hear him screaming from there as if he was in the room with him, sometimes even yelling his name. Noe either wouldn’t say or couldn’t recall what happened when they brought him back, but he shuddered each time Vanitas went to touch him for the first time after his return. 

Before he knew it Vanitas was being pushed aside, Noe stepping in front of him and being willingly let away. A piece of bread and soup were left on the floor for him to eat in the vampire’s place. 

He grabbed it, the soup already losing its warmth as he poured it into his mouth. It was some sort of meat and vegetable soup, not that he really cared all too much. Vanitas likely would have eaten anything presented to him, hell he even almost asked Noe if he could take a bite from him instead this time and was happy to have anything at all in front of him.

His naked hands ripped off pieces of the stale bread stuffing it into his mouth. But the loud shriek that echoed throughout the night made him drop it. It fell to the floor, half eaten, into a puddle of dirty water. 

What were they doing to him?

It repeated, again and again, worse and worse each time. Vanitas covered his ears, curled into a ball trying desperately to tune it out. It made him think of his own screams, his own pleas that fell onto deaf ears so many years ago, how the feeling of the inevitable had almost felt like home the entire time he was down here. He wasn’t even sure how long it had lasted until the door opened up and they threw Noe back onto the ground with him. 

Vanitas crawled over to him. He hadn’t moved yet, still slumped over on his side. The human went to grab his side, trying to flip him over onto his back towards him, but he hissed out in pain. He stopped, opting to gently lift up the back of Noe’s untucked shirt instead and was horrified.

They had branded him, again and again, all across his back. Some of them had already healed, some of it still in the process. The most recent one stuck slightly to his shirt, Noe wincing as Vanitas had lifted it up before to see what was hiding under the fabric. It was the same thing over and over. 

The number 69. 

He would kill him. Reach into his head and pluck out one of his eyeballs himself but leave the other. He wanted to make sure Moreau would be able to see whatever experiment he was working on now be burned to the ground. Vanitas would hold the match himself, pour the gasoline over his laboratory and his research, as he made the so-called scientist watch his papers burst into flames. 

Vanitas wondered how many of the people they had met here were actual people and not just human puppets Moreau had created. He couldn’t recall seeing anyone quite as empty inside as the figures they had encountered in the tunnels of the catacombs. But maybe he simply used the townspeople’s history fueled rage as leverage - collect the vampires and Moreau would take it from there. 

A moan from Noe shook Vanitas back from his thoughts. He looked down at him before moving slowly to the other side. “Noe,” He pushed a few strands of the vampire’s hair behind his ears. Vanitas needed to see it for himself to make sure they were still there. “Noe, can you look at me?” 

Noe glanced up at him, two purple irises fully intact, though full of discomfort. Thank god.

“Don’t worry, they’re still there.” Noe pushed himself off of the floor, sitting upright. He winced as he moved, pausing a moment, before being able to position himself the way he wanted. “He wasn’t in the room either.” 

Ah, Noe must have seen the bright red rod before it stamped him and pieced it together. The message was, afterall, not meant for him, but just served as a reminder to whom Vanitas very much still belonged to. It didn’t matter if he saw or what he thought, it was for the human to see and to think about. 

Vanitas wondered if their captors even knew of the significance or if they were just doing what they had been told. Torture seemed far stretched, but he did recall an older gentleman saying he’ll enjoy getting his revenge on the people who killed his daughter before he threw them into the cell. For these people, it must be personal. He was starting to wish he had insisted on Noe staying home instead of giving in so easily to his insistence. 

They had the advantage last time, people behind their back alongside themselves. New friends, a common enemy, it wasn’t tremendously difficult (except diving into the mouth of a malnomen and being forced into complimenting Moreau’s monstrous work to gain information). This time they were alone, hopefully not for long, but alone for the time being. 

“I saw where they’re keeping us.” Noe started, capturing Vanitas’ attention. He turned and looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “They didn’t bag my head like usual, they thought I had passed out. But there’s a water tower above us.” 

Vanitas glanced up, a drop of watering falling onto his head as he did. He squeezed his eyes instinctively. It made sense, now - the cracked ceiling, the liquid running down the walls, the general dampness of the cell. Maybe there was a leak in the tower itself causing the water to drip down slowly and pool above the floor that laid above the ceiling, or perhaps the foundation wasn’t built great to begin with and this was just a result of time and being underground. 

Vanitas surveyed the room. It’s unlikely the entire water tower was stabilized on top of this small cell. They had passed it coming in and he recalled it being much larger than the width of the room they were in now. It’s likely they were only partially under the structure, the backend of the cell being the only portion completely obscured by the brick and concrete above. There was a small window placed at the top of the wall afterall, though it was barred off. He scanned the ceiling for something, a big enough crack, anything and then he saw it. 

Right in the back corner of the room was what looked like a small vent on top of the ceiling. 

From what he could tell it was fairly rusted, the metal oxidizing from the water. The dim light in the cellar made it difficult to see it upon first inspection. It didn’t help that it had been carefully placed in the corner, probably secured in by bolts or screws, to hopefully be invisible to those imprisoned. Noe might be able to pry it off if he could find something to leverage the grate from the ceiling. A crow bar would work, but it was doubtful that there was one just lying around in here. 

Vanitas looked at the bed frame containing a thin mattress with even thinner sheets. Two small poles came off the bottom of it. 

“There’s a vent up in the corner.” Vanitas pointed in the direction of the object in question. “Do you think you could use the bedframe to pry it off the ceiling?” 

Noe looked around Vanitas at the metal and nodded. He got up and walked over to one of the walls, picking something off the ground. “I can flatten out the end with this.” 

A chunk of brick was in his hand, having crumbled off from the edge of the window. You could see the missing piece of the windows ledge, Noe holding the hardened clay in his hand as if a key. 

It wasn’t long after that Noe had successfully snapped off the metal piece of the frame and had successfully shaped it into a point. They shifted the bed over to under the vent, Noe standing atop of the very uncomfortable mattress, and shimmed the metal in between the crack of the ceiling and grate. After working with it for a few minutes, the first few bolts snapped off from the oxidation and dropped to the floor. 

Noe was able to grab the vent and rip the rest of it from the ceiling, lending out a hand to Vanitas when he was done to help him up. The human grabbed it, taking the boost that sent him up through the floor. 

It was a tight squeeze, even for Vanitas. He was glad Noe was skinny, even if he was tall. Any bigger and one of them would have had to have been left there.

Vanitas helped lift Noe from the hole after that, the vampire awkwardly shoving his limbs through the hole and pushing himself up once he was able to get a solid foundation of his palms against the floor. The pair looked down, the vent had been left on the bed. 

It’s quite obvious that they had escaped, but really where else could they have gone but up? They looked around the dimly lit room. Another small window on the side served as its only source of light right now. The room was pretty much barren, a staircase against the wall that spiraled up the above them. The floor was damp, water leaking down the sides of the walls the way it had in the cellar below. It couldn’t have been very structurally sound if there were microcracks somewhere, waiting to give way to the pressure of the water. 

“Vanitas,” Noe whispered, pointing to the door. “Let’s go before they notice.” 

He nodded and the pair left. 

Chapter 3: Chapter 2

Summary:

We're getting into some of the good stuff now, it's only up from here!

- N

“Vanitas” Noe hissed at him. His mind had been wandering somewhere else, trying to figure out the best solution to their predicament. 

They had escaped the cell, which was always a win, but the original reason they had come here was to find what happened to the missing vampires. Upon learning that Moreau had been responsible for the majority, if not all, of the disappearances just made the pair come to the conclusion that those souls had been lost. The only solution was to find Moreau now, but it was proving difficult. 

The village was not very large. Noe had estimated that only a few hundred people populated the area. Their houses were mainly condensed right around the town, but a few had been scattered off in the woods. They had searched the perimeter, scanning for any secret hide out or passageway, but hadn’t found anything. Even around the water tower their efforts proved futile. 

“Vanitas,” Noe continued before pointing at something in the distance. “Look.” 

Following his finger, Vanitas laid eyes on a small cabin just off the edge of the tree line. It was difficult to spot, a dense patch of trees littered around the small clearing. The sheer size of it too made it something easy to miss. It was maybe the size of a large shed, the inside couldn’t be larger than a singular room. The grass outside of it was splotchy, patches of dirt littered throughout the green. It was growing over, Vanitas realized, meaning something had been dug under there. 

Vanitas turned to look at him, his purple eyes already on the human. The pair nodded at each other before inching their way towards the tree line. 

The icy blue hand reached down and ran his fingers over the cover of the grimoire that was attached to his hip. They had run back to grab it before continuing on their way. Noe and him had been practicing, trying out their hand at different techniques they could use in conjunction with the book if they needed to. The curse bearers seemed to be getting stronger, more of their minds consumed each time they met. It had been upsetting to Noe to learn many of them were no longer able to be saved, their bodies crumbling to dust upon finding their true names in the text. 

They scanned the woods one last time before walking up to the door and gently pushing it in. Surprisingly, it easily opened and the duo stepped inside. 

Vanitas was right, it was a single room. A small oven stood against one of the walls. A square table placed underneath the one window with a singular chair pushed under it. On the opposite side of the room was a twin bed with a similar metal frame to the one they had in the cellar. Besides that the room was fairly barren, a single dresser that doubled as a night stand and a cabinet were the only other pieces of furniture. 

The table was quite ugly and old. Actually, the majority of the furniture was. Everything looked as if it was on it's way out, staged together to look like a place a person, in theory, could live. But in actuality the bed would scream when you laid down, the drawers would be hard to open or fall out completely, the table's legs would wobble when you put down a plate. It looked stage and Vanitas was fairly sure it was. 

There was also a healthy amount of dust. The counter of the cabinet had a thin layer of it on top of it, as did the dresser and table. Vanitas swiped his finger against the counter, the dust sticking to his finger tip as it left a shiny trail in it's wake. He stepped forward, his black boot creaking over the floor boards. Looking down towards the sound Vanitas realized there was a rug. 

“How original,” he muttered, picking up the tasseled end of the rug and flipping it over. On par with his expectations, he discovered a trap door.

This was too easy.

“It’s like they wanted us to find it,” Noe remarked. Bending down next to Vanitas and looking at him. He reached out his hand, pulling up the metal handle that laid flush with the door’s surface. “Ready?” 

“Let’s go.” 

 

-- 

The hallways were dark once they had dropped down inside them. Every 25 feet or so there was a lantern of sorts affixed to the wall, providing a dim lit dirt path for them to travel down. They were silent walking down the hall, placing each foot down gingerly on the dirt path. Vanitas could feel the big rocks underneath his shoes, sticking out and up from the earth as if it was trying to leave. But It wasn’t long until to a clearing. 

Vanitas felt physically ill. The chamber bore a similar resemblance to that of the ones in the catacombs, the large tiled floors and steel walls taunted him. The ceiling was shorter though, only being able to dig and build underground like this must have been proven a difficult task in the short period of time since they had last seen the doctor. Still, the floor to ceiling was about ten feet tall. 

Though the dirt path cleared into the tiled floor quite suddenly, there were still off shoots of rooms attached to this one. Several doors littered the walls, all with the same square glass pane allowing you to look inside each of them. There were floor to ceiling cabinets and shelves as well that clung to the walls, welded into place. Various machines were scattered throughout the room, a metal table sitting at the center, four metal cuffs hanging down from the sides. Not far away from it were small drops of blood. 

There were some places curtained off to try to give the illusion of privacy in the make shift room. The metal walls that made up them didn't reach all the way to the top, so any sort of confidential conversation taking place in one was anything but. Vanitas imagined it was easier to gain trust and information if people thought they were alone, but in reality Moreau would likely be sitting just on the other side taking it all in. Using people's words against them, taking their fears and injecting them with something to make them "conquer" it, Moreau could turn even the most innocent of conversations into an experiment.  

Noe’s touch to his arm instinctively caused him to jerk his fist around to punch the offender, but the vampire caught his wrist before anything made contact. Vanitas realized he had been holding his breath, his entire body stiff and rigid.

“Are you alright?” Noe asked before releasing his wrist and dropping his arm back to his side. His purple eyes were full of concern, head tilted to the side and brows furrowed slightly as he gazed at him. 

A small pang of guilt shot through him for almost hitting the taller man. But Vanitas couldn’t seem to find the words to form an apology, a simple nod being the only thing he could manage before walking off, leaving Noe just as concerned as before. 

He couldn’t blame him. If the situation was reversed, Vanitas would be worried as well. The lack of speak didn’t put Noe at any ease either. But Vanitas didn’t have time to think about the past, so he swallowed it down into his stomach and kept it there, the vomit leaving a bad aftertaste in his mouth as he did.

After walking closer to one of the shelves, Vanitas realized it had been all but filled with various different liquids. They were all slightly translucent, a moderately different sheen coming off of them all. Some of them were tinted purple, others green or blue. It was almost pretty to look at, the jars had been organized into a rainbow pattern. The taller shelves had the lighter colors, while the lower ones contained the darker, cooler hues. Upon one of the shelves in immediate arms reach, were vials also filled with the same liquids. The small rubber caps and box of needles next to them all, but confirmed they were being tested out on people, the most likely suspect being vampires. 

Vanitas had made his way around to the first door as well. He could feel Noe standing feet from him, almost silent as he followed around the human. He glanced in the window and immediately ducked from view.

Lining the room inside he saw reinforced humans, as Moreau had called them. They were unconscious and hooked up by IV’s he assumed gave them whatever nutrients they needed to survive. Upon seeing his reaction, Noe stepped out of the window’s line of sight. 

“They’re unconscious,” Vanitas whispered before pointing one of his fingers to the glass pane on the door. “It should be okay to glance inside, but I wouldn’t linger too long.” 

Noe nodded, peaking his eyes over the metal frame and bowing it back down. 

Vanitas remembered the feeling of being outnumbered again, the same way he had in the cellar before. They had help last time, but he was beginning to worry they may be biting off more than they can chew. There had to be at least twenty bodies in there, all waiting to be commanded. There was no reasoning with them, their soulless frames would do whatever they were told just as good toys do. They’d bend to every whim just like good toys do. Bark when told to bark, run when told to run, kill when told to kill, just like good toys do. 

At least, Vanitas reasoned, they never had to live with what they did.

No soul meant no feeling. No aching emptiness when your loved ones are killed, no grief after losing someone, no pain after pouring salt into oozing wounds. Wounds that were healing, ever so slowly, that no longer bled profusely when you moved, but would open up every once in a while when you bent the wrong way. Wounds Vanitas desperately tried to bandage and stitch, but with each step he took on the tiled floor he could feel the blood seeping through the bandages and the stitches coming undone.  

But he moved onto the next door anyways, shoving all of it down. 

Almost as soon as he peered into the next pane, a body jumped up and ran against it, clawing at the door. The handle riddled and Vanitas stumbled back, Noe catching him before he fell. He saw the person’s mouth unhinge, but didn’t hear a noise. 

Soundproof, Vanitas thought, that made sense. 

Suddenly another one appeared, pushing the other out of the way for a chance to try to barge their way out of the metal room. The door shook again, but nothing happened. They were simply looking at open mouths and empty, black eyes. 

A room full of curse bearers. 

Was that what happened to the vampires who crossed paths with this town? Naenia stole their names and gave them to Moreau to do experiments on? It had happened before, no reason it wouldn’t happen again. The man was vile and disgusting, but the dedication to his research was beyond him. 

It made Vanitas wonder if he had prisoners. 

He took one last look inside the room, each curse bearer pushing others out of the way to get a look at the fresh blood they could consume had the piece of metal not been stopping them. The one that stood in front now was a woman, no older than 30, whose mouth seemed to almost unhinge from its socket when she screamed. Her shoulder length, light brown hair, swayed with her as she pounded in the glass. Vanitas could even admit she was quite pretty, even with the black eyes that had consumed her soul. 

The pair continued around the room, a curtain in their path. Vanitas brushed it aside and moved behind it, revealing yet another steel table with ties on it. This one was thinner and instead of cuffs there were padded straps hanging from the side. There was a desk here, various tools laid across it along with more of the vials of liquid. 

The desk was pressed against the wall, another make-shift wall providing a corner. The main light source from the other room didn’t reach as well in here due to the space being more enclosed, so Vanitas almost missed the small black safe hidden in the corner. 

Between the short edge of the desk and the makeshift metal barrier used as a wall, there was about a foot and a half of space. A place you might place a garbage can to throw out anything you’d need, but instead a safe sat on the floor. 

It was quite small, maybe only two feet or so high, with a golden handle and number dial. Noe bent down and pulled the handle, a metal clank being let out as the object did its job. Noe shook his head and proceeded to stick his head closer to the door. 

Vanitas wasn’t exactly sure why or how Noe had learned safe manipulation, but it also wasn’t a topic of everyday discussion. He did live with two children from the House de Sade in his childhood, so perhaps their mischievous nature rubbed off on the goody two shoes vampire. It wasn’t like Noe was the type to do something unjust, but Noe was also one to be easily persuaded.

Vanitas could almost picture Noe breaking open a safe under a dare from Domi and Louis. The siblings would be standing there, his Teacher somewhere else or no where at all, as they egged Noe on to break into the safe likely filled with money or weapons. Domi had mentioned the countless weapons the House de Sade possessed and hid away until needed. Knowing something like that as a child only makes you more curious. 

After a few minutes, the door was able to be popped open. Noe reached inside and grabbed something. Vanitas couldn’t see, his body obscuring the object from view, but he was positive Noe was running his hands over whatever it was, flipping it around, before handing it up to Vanitas. 

It was another book. 

Vanitas had known there were multiple grimoires, himself and Misha were only in possession of two, but he wasn’t sure where Luna had kept the rest if they even knew where they were. So to be holding a third in his hand seemed surreal. 

While Vanitas’ book had the Divine Tear Stone next to the spine of the text, this one was on the opposite side about an inch away from the edge of the cover. It was three quarters of the way up to the top, serving as what would be the center to a gear. A curved metal line was set about two inches away from there, outlining the shape of the gear. From there the cover was a dark blue, a pattern similar to Mikhail's. As it got closer to the spine, an intricately designed edge similar to Vanitas’ book took the blues place. 

Vanitas ran his fingers across the cover, feeling the texture of the metal and leather combined together. So similar yet foreign at the same time. He placed the item into his coat. There was no reason Moreau needed to hold onto something like this. 

Noe had gotten up and walked around him, passing him between the metal table and the desk. Back toward the curtain they entered was another door. Noe peered into it and frowned, but attempted to pull on the handle. When it didn’t move, he moved back to Vanitas, searching the desk drawer for a key before heading over to the safe to do the same thing. Finally fishing something out of the black metal box, Noe entered the key into the lock and pulled open the door. 

The sound of soft sobs hit Vanitas’ ears and his heart sank further down into his stomach. He swallowed it again, keeping his composure and cool. Vanitas didn’t even get a chance to let out any words before Noe had walked through the door frame into the room. 

Vanitas walked to the entrance and took in the scene in front of him. Noe was bent down talking to a child. The boy couldn’t be any older than 10 years old. His long black hair was tied back into a messy braid, a few short strands in front fell down and framed his pale face. His attention was solely on Noe as the vampire grabbed his hands and soothed him. 

“Bonjour, monsieur” Noe sat down, cross legged on the floor in front of him. He hadn’t let go of the boys hand, drawing comforting circles on the inside of his palms. “My name’s Noe, what’s yours?” 

“Um,” He hiccupped, trying to control his tears. Breathing in roughly, he attempted to keep his nose from running more than it had been, check stained with tears as he continued on. “Charnell, but my sister calls me Nellie.” 

“Where’s your sister now, Nellie?” Noe asked softly. To this the boy broke into tears, grabbing back his hands and sobbing into them. He curled into himself, knees up against his chest before wrapping his arms around them. 

“She’s - She’s over there.” He choked out, vaguely moving his head in the direction toward the back of the room. 

There was just a pile of clothes in the left hand corner. A girl's blue dress with lace detailing laid there. There were holes in it, as well as dirt and even blood on it, but it was easy to tell it once had been a beautiful garment fit for a summer stroll through the gardens. A pair of mary janes laid not too far from it, a small pile of dust spilling out from both the shoes and the dress. 

“Hey Nellie?” Noe asked, shifting his frame to put himself between the boy’s line of sight and the garment that laid flat on the floor. “Would you like to come with us? We can get you out of here.” 

“I can’t, I can’t leave her.” Nellie cried into his arms, tucking himself into his body further. “She’s my little sister.” 

Vanitas watched as Noe’s heart broke in his eyes from the words. If the vampire hadn’t already been touched by the loss of the other, he certainly was now. 

“Do you know where my mom is?” Nellie looked up at Noe, tears in his eyes. “I hope she’s not mad at me. She told me to keep Celine safe, but I- I couldn’t stop him from taking her. I tried, monsieur, I really tried, do you think she’d be upset with me?” 

“Of course not, she knows you tried your hardest, that's all you can do." Noe rubbed circles on Nellie's back. "If you come with us though, we can find her and we can tell her together.” 

The boy nodded before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded picture. He pointed to a woman with a smile so wide it threatened to tear her face. Her head was cocked to the side, as she held both of her children in either arm. The dimples on her cheeks matched the children's, the same smile across their features. A tall, dark haired man stood next to the woman, arms wrapped around her as he smiled down at her, ignoring the camera. 

“That’s my mom, and that’s Celine.” Nellie pointed to the woman and the girl in the opposite arm of the boy himself before skimming his finger up the print to the man. “That’s my dad.” 

Vanitas gazed down at the photograph as the boy showed Noe, immediately recognizing the young woman from the curse bearer room before. If she was in there, that meant her husband likely was as well and he could save them both once released. 

Vanitas knew he had to play his cards right though. He couldn’t handle the amount of feral vampires stowed away in the room just feet from them. They’d have to wait until they could contact the others who’d be able to restrain them as he worked. It simply wasn’t possible to fight and cure 15 to 20 people at once, he and Noe would be mauled within minutes. 

“We’ll find her, we’ll get her back.” Noe said, looking up at Vanitas. 

Vanitas nodded at the pair before reaching out a hand to help both of them up. Before leaving the room, the boy ran over to where the remains of the girl laid. He grabbed something from his pocket before gingerly placing it down on top of her dress. 

It was a small figurine of a dog. It had been carved of wood and then painted. Its ears and nose were black with splotches of the color also over the body. The rest of it was white, with a red bandana painted on around its neck. 

“Now you can play with Benji again.” Nellie said, placing the piece down on the chest piece of the dress. “I know you miss him.”
Vanitas was pretty sure if this was any normal circumstance, Noe would have broken down in tears. Even looking up at the vampire now, water threatened to spill out over his cheeks watching the child. Those purple iris’ couldn’t tear away from him as he ran back to the duo, before grabbing onto Noe’s arm. 

The three of them left the room, locking the door behind them in an attempt to cover their tracks. Noe relocked the safe as well before they exited out. 

They pulled back the curtain and stepped back out into the light, just to see Moreau standing there smiling at them.