Til the Last Drop

by ItzJamiehere

Summary:

Vincent made his way over, crawling on the edge of the bed with an arm over the human’s body to brace against the soft mattress, pushing the girl down on the bed and effectively caging her below him. He held the girl’s arm with the palm facing up and nearly in front of the girl’s face.

Vincent pressed the arm against his closed mouth and calmly took a sniff, his body responding to the sweetness of the girl’s scent. The same sweetness reminded him of the white mask’s blood that he encountered. Annoyed, Vincent clicked his tongue before biting the girl’s forearm, pissed that he was reminded of those pain-in-the-asses that he couldn’t kill.

Or;

Creepypasta with a rich, Vampire prince CEO(Wattpad inspired)

Chapter 1: Dead Driver

The room was dark with the only lights sourced from a computer screen and the surroundings outside the floor-to-ceiling tall windows. The subtle twinkling lights outside during the ungodly hour can be ignored, unlike the glaring, blue light coming from a computer screen. Impatient, rhythmic tapping of keys can be heard and there was minimal light highlighting the swept back blond hair and unimpressed green eyes. The same electronic light also reflected off of the glass display case hosting ineligible trophies and awards behind the blond hair and green eyes.

This guy paused, his hand sliding past a shiny golden plaque that was carved “Vincent D. Hensley” and grabbed an overly technical-looking phone. He grumbled and briefly tapped on his phone, displeased when he had to work overtime when his secretary didn’t.

“Make a reminder to tell Sandra to make copies of the shareholder agreements and have them ready for the 12pm meeting tomorrow,” Vincent spoke to his phone and paused, “And schedule a 5pm dinner in two days at some fancy restaurant with the Head of Marketing and Head of Finance. Be sure to send an email reminding both of them. Be mindful of their allergies and restrictions.”

He pulled out an overstuffed binder from under his desk and started filing through the organizer before finding a specific stack of papers. He took it from its confines and held it in front of him, somehow having no trouble reading it in the dark. He leaned back in his plush rolling chair and started tapping his thigh with his free hand in thought. Right, he just remembered he had to make a public announcement addressing fraud allegations against a suspended executive which led to product recalls and angry customers. He rolled his eyes.

He knew humans were stupid, but he didn’t think they were this incapable of doing their job.

In front of him were the legal documents analyzing and breaking down the idiot's crimes, including the suspected time length and associated evidence. At the bottom of each page was a stamp indicating the order they were supposed to be in. And goodie, ‘Page 1 out of 376’.

Thank goodness he didn’t have trouble pulling all nighters. People might be worried about his health or wonder where he gets his energy, but it doesn’t matter as long as he manages his responsibilities just fine. He would normally keep working in his comfortable office —and it’s not like anyone would kick the CEO out of the corporate building— but the sun was going to rise within this hour and nothing was stopping the light from burning right through these windows.

He doesn’t die from sunlight. It just really pisses him off.

Vincent drops the literal brick of papers on his desk to call his chauffeur to pick him up. He was in the middle of packing until the sun was peeking in between other skyscrapers and successfully blinding Vincent like it was time for his death and for heaven’s gates to let him in.

How funny.

Irritated and impatiently waiting for the approval to install remote controlled blinds for his office, he quickly grabbed his prepped briefcase while shielding his eyes with one of his hands— promptly forgetting his 376 pages of vulnerable information that he'll need to read by tomorrow.

He makes his way out of the building and meets the only car waiting by the entrance. There’s a man in an ironed black uniform standing patiently by the car doors, noticeably trying to swallow a yawn. He was only there because Vincent pays premium to make sure he’s available at all hours of the night and early morning. Anytime after noon is another driver’s problem.

“Mr. Hensley,” the chauffeur greets and elegantly opens the backseat door for Vincent. Vincent nods before sitting, appreciating the black tinted windows when the chauffeur closes the door. Soon enough, the car moves and they start driving.

During the drive, Vincent starts going through his agenda in his head. Shareholder meeting? 50 different scenarios prepared and loaded. Dinner meeting? Negotiation to hype prototype ready. Speech for broadcasting? Needed material almost slipping past Vincent’s fingertips.

“Wait,” Vincent calls out, not embarrassed how he still doesn’t know his chauffeur’s name after 5 years, “I left something back at my office.”

If the driver sitting in the front was annoyed, he was smart enough to not show it, “No problem, Mr. Hensley.”

“Use the back entrance”

“Yes, sir.”

The car is parked next to a more secluded, less welcoming area and Vincent leaves the chauffeur who’s obediently waiting by the car again. Vincent left his briefcase in the car simply for convenience and it’s not like he’ll need to show his badge to the sleeping security guard positioned out front when he’s the CEO who just left a few minutes ago.

By the time he gets into his office, the sun had risen a bit higher meaning it wasn’t painfully at eye level anymore. He could almost ignore it if he gave it the cold shoulder and walked in an odd way that’ll position him away from the sun. But he won’t. Because that would look stupid.

He grabs the stack of papers and promptly leaves the office. By the time he exits past the building’s door, he’s hit with a gentle sweet aromatic that makes him both alert and eager. His eyes landed on the limp body of the chauffeur, his uniform sliced through with blood pooling out from his wounds. The blood is staining his black uniform red before making a little puddle underneath the body. There’s even blood splatter on the bashed in car doors and tires, marking them like finishing touches a painter would. Vincent strains his ears for a heartbeat, but there isn’t any. But there was an added scent that was mixed with the chauffeur’s blood and it wasn’t there before. Vincent hums, thinking the newly introduced scent was probably from his murderer and it was still fairly pungent.

Vincent approaches the body, leisurely letting his eyes glow red since there wasn’t anyone around. He bends down and pokes one of his fingers into a deep wound, watching more blood gush out the more he spreads the cut. It looks like it was done with a precise wide slashing motion and a thick blade. He admires the art as pulls his hand back and brings his blood covered fingers to his mouth and takes a small taste.

Nothing too extraordinary, it’s blood that’ll sustain a vampire but it won’t make him excited for another bite. The blood was still warm but it was starting to taste stale since it’s making contact with open air. Vincent would almost be disappointed if he didn’t already know how boring the driver smelled when he was alive.

Vincent was about to stand to both wash his hand and then pretend to panic while calling for security. But he saw a glint in the air of something metal before it was thrown at him. He dodged, hearing an hatchet lodge itself in a ruined car door. He quickly stuffed the papers in his jacket as he looked up.

VIncent saw two guys. One was wearing a dull, yellow jacket that was zipped up and had long sleeves. He wore uninteresting jeans, shoes, and had brown hair. But what was eerie was the white mask covering his face that had black feminine characteristics drawn. The other one wore something gray with striped long sleeves. The same thing as the other with the jeans, shoes, and hair. But this one had orange goggles and some sort of cloth covering his mouth that was designed to mimic a toothy grin.

The one in the orange goggles held another bloody hatchet in his other hand, making Vincent hope he was stupid enough to try his luck in throwing and end up weaponless. But Vincent wasn’t given the chance to pray since the one with the white mask started to run at him with a simple knife raised in the air.

Vincent assumed that they both saw him act suspicious in human standard, maybe starting with the fact he probably should’ve screamed bloody murder at the sight of an actual murder. He didn’t even care enough about the chauffeur to even consider taking revenge but he’ll need to find a way to silence them before they could start to make rumors. So he’ll need to find a solution(a dead man tells no tales). And figuratively speaking, it should be easy to get rid of them since Vincent can both hear their heartbeats and smell their blood.

It’s just the matter of preventing evidence. There are cameras angled to monitor the entrance, so they’re most likely still recording. Vincent can keep the footage of the murder but he’ll need to delete his own reappearance. Damn, and he’ll need to do it before someone else comes around and starts making a scene. His main objective is basically to keep the place looking the same right after the murder happened and the two criminals left the body.

He took off his tailored navy suit jacket, internally mourning it but it’s not like he can’t buy a replacement. He idly humored the idea of planting the soon-to-be dead murderers up on the very top of his own corporate building, which would be above his own office on the 275th floor. It’s not like there’s a way to get up there, something about the altitude and the winds not being suitable for humans.

When the guy with the white mask ran at him, Vincent quickly kicked the knife out of his hands before wrapping his own jacket around the guy’s head. He grabbed both ends of the jacket before slamming it to the ground, having the guy’s head crack against the pavement. Vincent did this a few more times, having the blood make little speckles through the thick and expensive fabric of the jacket but not letting a single drop fall. Vincent almost regretted his actions when the damaged head spilled a sweet scent; 10 times sweeter than that dead chauffeur. But he needed him dead even though his eyes glowed red in thirst.

Vincent saw the orange goggles as he continued to make his partner’s brain into mush and almost waited for him to come at him, too. He intended to use the expected dead body of the white mask as a meat shield against an incoming hatchet, but guessed his surprise when the dead man’s arms latched out trying to grab him. Of course, Vincent dodged but he had let go of his jacket in the process of dealing with orange goggles.

One of Vincent’s hands went to the hatchet trying to play tug-of-war while the other went for the owner’s throat. He would have instinctively curled his fingers and lengthen his nails to rip the throat from his shoulders, but that would have created an unexplained splatter of blood that would be a few feet away from the only established victim. So instead, he needed to strangle this guy and he really doesn’t like the feeling of sweaty, hot, and pulsing skin in his hand especially since this one struggles way too much and somewhat twitches. He felt the bones in the guy’s neck shatter before his skin started to contour to Vincent’s grip.

When the orange goggle’s grip started to weaken, and dying noises escaped him, and oh, he started to turn blue, Vincent glanced over to the white mask. By now, the jacket has fallen and laid discarded on the ground. The white mask had fallen to show his newly ruined face. Side of his face was caved in to the point that inner gaps for sinuses, mouth, and brain were visible. The muscles of his face were covered in blood with excess dripping from his neck. Brain matter was also visible and crumbling near the edges, sticking together with the shattered bone, strands of hair, and flaking skin. His left eye was almost falling from its socket since it looks like Vincent accidentally tore away his eyelids and parts of his socket and so it was only being held by tendons. His knees and shoulders also suffered some bruising in the process because it’s hard to swing someone’s head without dragging the rest of their body like a rag doll.

“Of course you’re still alive,” Vincent grumbled as he heard the frantic beating of the (former) white mask’s heart, which shouldn’t be possible. He glared at how the body was still visibly breathing and just collapsed on the ground while Vincent watched like he was personally offended. Now that he thought about it, he also heard the orange goggles still gargling for air even though it should’ve stopped ages ago.

So Vincent could confidently guess that those two aren’t human. But their heartbeats and breathing make good disguises to make them seem harmless. Vincent himself doesn't have a heartbeat but he sometimes has a little attachable device that he can press onto his chest to make little(annoying) ba-dump’s and vibration when needed. But the heartbeats with those two guys seem a little too real to be fake and he can actively feel some guy’s pulse literally in his hands. And they certainly smelled like human(food).

This human-but-not-human characteristic doesn’t match with any species of supernatural that Vincent knows. And factoring in how long he’s been alive for and how many lifetimes he’s lived through, that’s saying something. His mind had wandered towards the classification of a zombie, a former human that still breathes on Earth. But those aren't commonly known to intertwine with humans, since both have defined characteristics(decaying flesh) that makes it identifiable for each species.

It’s almost like they’re just humans with immortality. Vincent hummed, thinking maybe he should bury them alive and just be done with it. But obviously he didn’t have time for that. Maybe there was somewhere he could place them before he could get to them.

Ah.

In one swell swoop, he grabbed his bloodied jacket and the physically faceless guy with his free hand before teleporting up to the roof of his building(along with orange goggles who he was still strangling). He also had to make a second trip to collect the stuck hatchet from the car door, the forgotten knife that he kicked earlier, and the broken white mask. While he held all of the weapons in hand, he stared at the little droplets of blood the white mask left. Vincent sighed before pulling the folded silk handkerchief from his vest pocket to wipe it off before teleporting back up to the roof. He unceremoniously dumped all of the murderer’s belongings back at them, including the soiled handkerchief.

The white mask guy was still unresponsive. The orange goggles was coherent enough to glare at him while violently twitching, his neck squeezed down to a fraction of its original size making his head look comically swollen. Vincent grabbed his jacket from earlier to wipe his hand that had dried up bloody snot, sweat, and drool on it(guess from who) and started to approach the white mask guy with it, which started to make the orange goggles even more enraged. He tried to get up and that resulted in him puking up blood that flooded his mouthpiece. Vincent rolled his eyes at the pathetic display as he draped his jacket over the white mask’s body, successfully covering that ugly, trampled-on disgrace.

Looks like everything is still following his initial plan minus a few steps. Even though they weren’t dead, it wasn't like they were going anywhere. He was willing to bet they couldn’t fly. And even if they were immortal, if they had enough willpower to jump down some hundreds of thousands of feet, Vincent would think they deserved to escape his punishment. And honestly, he didn’t care too much.

He teleported inside the building, more specifically next to that sleeping security guard(remember him?) to use his computer. As CEO, of course Vincent knows all the passwords, including the ones to access the camera footage. He watched how the crime took place at 3x speed, not surprised when the chauffeur was bludgeoned by the hatchet guy. He quickly deleted all the footage after that and then rebooted the computer to erase any technological footprint of him fiddling with anything.

Vincent did a once over looking for any blood that got onto him or any scratches on his hands. Nope, all clear. He wondered if it’ll be too suspicious if he said he sent his suit jacket to get dry cleaned or something if he’s suddenly seen without it on. Oh whatever, it’s not like he’ll be suspected for murder anyways. Though, he will admit it’ll probably help his image if he remembered the dead guy’s name. Oh well, you can’t win them all.

He walked out to the entrance again, acting a role like he first discovered the body by notably stiffening his shoulder and recoiling so the cameras could capture his shocked and horrified reaction. He made a show of scrambling for his phone with a look of panicked as he dialed a number.

“Hello, do you need medical, police, or fire—-“,

“Please! Please get an ambulance here!,” Vincent cried, knowing that this call was being recorded. He flexed his throat so his voice would come out higher and had his free hand go up to his head in that classic display for fear. ”My driver…. There’s blood everywhere oh my god!”

“Sir, sir, please calm down,” the dispatcher on the other line said and Vincent almost rolled his eyes, “I need you to calmly tell me your address so I can send help.”

And just like that, Vincent had to act for the next 3 hours. The body was collected in a black body bag and Vincent himself had to call for some crime scene cleaners and a tow truck to get rid of the car that was ‘too traumatizing to keep’. When he tried to get his briefcase from the car, it was missing and that got him pissed. But he couldn’t quite show it because it’ll look heartless if it seemed like he cared more about his laptop and paperwork than his dead chauffeur.

He gave his statement at the police station and complied with the investigation(smirking when they collected the camera footage with the confused security guard getting suspicious glances from the police). He even got some sympathetic words of support so he guesses once the words spread, his performance might need to be distracted a bit.

Vincent will give the chauffeur’s family some financial compensation to make his own reputation look good. And maybe tighten security for show. Maybe not. Vincent is quite liking the security guard who isn’t doing his job. He might give him a raise.

When all was said and done, he teleported back up to the roof. He might’ve been prepared for another fight but he secretly hoped that they were gone. And they were. Even his bloodied jacket(that he draped over the white mask’s destroyed face) disappeared with the stack of papers he stuffed inside. And he didn’t see any corpses splattered on the ground like pancakes so those guys didn’t commit suicide either.

But if it wasn’t in front of him, it wouldn’t be his problem. If he saw those two again stupidly coming back for a second round, then he’ll teleport them to a secluded place to truly bury them alive. But for now, he called a taxi to drive him back home and to remind himself that he needed to hire a new driver. And print out those stolen documents. Buy a new briefcase. Buy a new laptop to replace the one that was in that briefcase. Buy a new phone. Buy a new suit.

Damn. Good thing he was rich

Chapter 2: Vincent’s House

He came back home to a modern house that’s nothing short of a mansion. Everything was made with either stainless steel, polished granite, swirling marble, bulletproof glass, or other expensive stuff. There were even extravagant ceiling pieces that dangled and bookcases that had contemporary designs. And what really screamed money was the fact there wasn’t a manual switch(for anything) in sight.

“Turn up the heat. Turn on the hot bath in Bathroom 1,” Vincent said as the house responded. In mere seconds the entire house got warmer and it did so quietly as there weren't any vents rumbling or creaking like expected. Vincent wasn't in his bathroom so he couldn’t actively see the water in his bathtub being drawn up but he trusted it. And it better be working, he invested a lot to make this house comfortable. Vincent wanted nothing more than to have a drink, get clean, and retire to his bedroom. The bath was in working progress so he focused on the blood source first.

He made his way to the basement where there weren’t any windows and not much light, either. As he walked past a few metal vaults, there were fingerprint scanners and tadlocks like they were checkpoints. Down a corridor, there were a few rooms arranged but only one of them was occupied since there was only one closed door.

Vincent politely knocked even though it was his own house. But he learned if he just barged in, others’ wouldn’t receive that well. He opened the unlocked door(or the door that didn’t have a lock) to see a human girl on her bed watching some TV that was mounted on her wall. Her lips thinned as she saw Vincent and her heartbeat sped up a bit in his ears, but calm for all things considered.

This human was pretty, clean, and comfortable in her casual wear. She had short hair courtesy of Vincent and clothing that exposed her neck and arms. Her room was rather large with a plush bed and fancy bed frame, mentioned TV, a set of lounge chairs, vanity and mirror, a walk-in closet, a conjoined bathroom, a segregated kitchen, and a desk and chair set.

She even had a standing cage that housed 2 hamsters since she complained to Vincent that she was lonely. Oh, and of course her lights were on and were most certainly the only lights used in the entire mansion—— which were those fancy lights that lined the corners of her room.

All in all, it seemed like a well furnished apartment and this girl was Vincent’s guest. And she would have if not for the metal shackle on the girl’s ankle with a figurative chain piling next to her foot. The allowed range allows her to reach the walls of her room and maybe touch her door. But it prevents her from leaving and the restraint is programmed to kill her if she leaves the room.

If it wasn’t obvious; this girl is being kept against her will and is being used for blood. Vincent had kidnapped her a few months ago when he first smelled her. She had two companions a while back so Vincent took care of 3 humans at one point. But one of them was too fussy and the other one committed suicide, which led him to burying them in his garden.

When he kills a human, he’ll most likely drain all of their blood til no return. And when he’s left with their corpses, he’ll bury their bare bodies 3 feet deep before planting flowers on top of them. He used to bury them 6 feet deep but it took a while for the bodies to decompose and he only had so much land to garden with(something about 3 feet have a perfect microboime).

He even went through the trouble of organizing different kinds of flowers and their color variations to symbolize the decaying process of the body hidden underneath the dirt. And every newly added flower to the rotation meant a newly added body. All the while it made it seem the extravagant, charismatic CEO had a gentle hobby of planting pretty little flowers.

“Give me your arm,” Vincent said. He got annoyed when the girl seemed to hesitate. He was going to repeat himself, something he didn’t like to do, until he heard the girl’s stomach rumble in her own hunger. Vincent blinked, “You didn’t eat yet?”

“No, sir,” the girl whispered. Vincent has given everything the girl needs, which includes food and internet. When she needs any retail item from the outside world, she would order it and a message would be sent to Vincent’s phone to pick it up himself(or have someone else bring it to him). And the girl has gotten comfortable to the point that she has a fully stocked fridge, game consoles(with encryption so she won’t be able to communicate), and hell, even hamsters. So it doesn’t make sense why this girl didn’t feed herself yet unless it was some sort of rebellion.

Vincent walked over to the fridge in the girl’s kitchen and stared at the wide variety of produce, meats, and drinks. He glanced back at the girl who was sheepishly looking at her ankle bracelet like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Vincent got the message.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked as he started to pull out a cutting board and knives (higher chance of a knife harming her than him) from the drawer. Nearly two centuries ago, Vincent used to have a human lover that made him learn how to cook human food in order to live domestically together. It was a love story from long ago of a vampire and a vampire hunter, a story that could be sung about for romance lovers.

Vincent remembers pleading to let him turn her into a vampire so she would be able to have immortality. But she was faithful to her annestors and couldn’t allow herself to prey on humans and become a vampire even though she fell in love with one. So they both were forced to watch one of them die while the other was left alone in his solitude.

But anyways.

The skill of cooking proved useful since he used it as a means to lower people's guard. More often than not, he would cook for his victims and preferably in front of them to show clean and harmless acts of care. It would be up to them if they ate it or not, but seeing how Vincent has spent nearly two hundred years cooking, perfecting his technique, and learning other cuisines, it’s hard to resist the temptation.

“C-chicken katsu curry, please” the girl requested, perhaps abusing Vincent’s ability to cook food from other cultures. Vincent nodded and immediately started to familiarize the ingredients that were available in the kitchen. His movements were true to his vampiric nature that allowed him to move around with grace and speed. The way his body moved with confidence even though he didn’t have a cookbook in front of him, relying on his own personal knowledge and his experiences of flying over to Japan to have the same dish himself a few years ago. He even made chopping potatoes and carrots look impressive.

20 minutes later he finished with a bowl with an island of rice surrounded by a pool of aromatic, thick curry and a sliced up fried chicken cutlet that leaned on the edge of the bowl. Before handing it to her, he placed it on a table and covered it with a plate since the smell was already encompassing the rest of the apartment.

“You feed me first,” Vincent said, turning away from the curry and facing the human instead. He would normally avoid drinking from humans right after they’ve eaten because whatever meal they ate could be tasted from their blood. And it wasn’t pleasant. Instead of the flavors of the previous meal, Vincent would only be able to taste how much fat and starch there was— unbroken down from the person’s natural blood filtering system. And while he’s sure his cooking can rival even the best chefs, he did not want to taste gelatinous blood after this human eats his curry and fried chicken. Nor did he have the patience to wait.

The human’s eyes were trained on the covered dish but she had enough courtesy to not drool. When she faced Vincent, she flinched because she was still scared of him(good) but she offered him her arm from where she sat on her bed. She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with the red eyes that glowed in their hunger.

Vincent made his way over, crawling on the edge of the bed with an arm over the human’s body to brace against the soft mattress, pushing the girl down in the mattress and effectively caging her below him. He held the girl’s arm with the palm facing up and nearly in front of the girl’s face, maybe to remind her where their status lay.

Vincent pressed the arm against his closed mouth and calmly took a sniff, his body responding to the sweetness of the girl’s scent. The same sweetness reminded him of the white mask’s blood that he almost killed earlier. Annoyed, Vincent clicked his tongue before biting the girl’s forearm, pissed that he was reminded of those pain-in-the-asses that he couldn’t kill.

The girl whimpered from the bite being harsher than usual but tried not to move her arm in fear of dragging the bitemarks against Vincent’s teeth. The moment his saliva made contact against her skin, her arm started to feel pleasantly numb and the rest of her body withstanding some sort of high. It made her kind of drowsy, yet content like endorphins were being released in blasts. She felt herself relaxing against her mattress to let Vincent take advantage of her despise any sense of self preservation.

That’s what happens whenever Vincents bites her. She doesn’t know if it’s with all vampires or just him, but she doesn’t care. As long as it can help her ignore the pain for at least a while. All of her thoughts were cloudy like she didn’t have a care in the world. It would be very easy(maybe too easy) to fall asleep like this. But she shouldn’t. Warm curry is waiting for her.

Vincent takes two large mouthfuls of blood, knowing better than to take a third. When he releases his fangs from the flesh of the girl’s arm, he licks the trails of blood he leaves almost sodemly. Even though it satisfies him, every nerve in his body is telling him to drink this girl dry. But if he kills her, he’ll have to start from scratch. He scoffs, making a note to find more humans.

“Eat your food,” he says as he gets off of the girl. She’s still dazed so she doesn’t respond, it’ll take her a few minutes to even sit up right. This is why he tries to get humans to eat before he arrives but some people just don’t listen. Vincent leaves her alone, not wanting to be there when she eats her garlic-filled curry.

He goes to the second floor where the residential wing is and goes to the end where his master bedroom is. He takes off his cufflinks and puts them in the sink alongside his watch and belt on a coffee table next to an electronic controlled fireplace. When he strips off his vest, he inspects it. It was in perfect condition and made with a nice smooth material that screamed wealth. But it’s incomplete if the suit jacket is beyond stained and who-knows-where. He throws it in a trash bin, knowing that if he walks into his walk-in closet, he’ll see at least 20 of the same replica.

He makes his way to his adjacent bathroom as he one-handedly unbuttoning his white silk press shirt, crinkling it until no return. He throws that into a hamper and soon his pants, socks, and underwear join that, too—- trusting his 3 times/week cleaning lady to deliver that to a dry cleaning and have it returned back to his closet. What, did you expect a rich, successful CEO would do his own laundry when he can pay someone to do it for him? (Say that to him and he’ll throw money at your face)

He sinks into the prepared tub of water that’s next to a wall with some contemporary art that he bought at an auction only because other people were interested and he wanted to be the highest bidder. But if he’s honest to himself, it’s pretty ugly. The only good quality about it is that it’s black and (thank god) not yellow or orange. Honestly, he made a face when he got some advice from an interior design guy who told him to display it in a big open space because the artist was famous or something. So, yeah, instead the art hangs on a wall and can watch Vincent bathe.

The water was almost scalding but Vincent prefers it that way. A vampire can’t regulate their own body temperature because they’re the undead so that often means they’re cold. It’s normally not a big deal if you manage a complete routine of constantly drinking blood, but he can’t exactly do that from being limited by one human and his corporate schedule. So he sacrifices maybe an hour a night just soaking in a hot bath.

His hand glides over to the side of the tub where a control panel is. Maybe he’ll turn in the massaging jets.

This tub has a thermal feature that keeps the water at a stable temperature, frighteningly similar to a rice cooker or crockpot. So theoretically, he wouldn’t need to get up, ever. But he’s a slave to the materialist world so he does end up draining the tub and teleporting himself to where his towels are. He supposes he should arrive to work early if he needs to replace all those stolen documents.

He’s walking into his walk-in closet that has glass display shelves for his accessories, mainly his collection of watches, jewelry, and ties. His suits are on a conveyor belt of manikins to prevent wrinkles and are designed to be easily assessable. He selects a sage green suit and decides to pair it up with deep brown accents, namely with the shoes and belt.

Vincent plans on calling his driver to pick him up as he’s snapping on his watch and putting on dashes of his cologne. He pauses.

He blinks. Right, that guy is dead. And the other driver isn’t scheduled for another few hours. Vincent rolls his eyes, forced to take one of the 5 newer, shiny cars stored in the garage.

Notes:

Yep, this story is a filler lol. Some background that will make itself relevant to the story later hehe.

Chapter 3: Planning

Ticci Toby saw red. Literally.

Angry red dots floated in his vision no matter how often he aggressively blinked. And every time he tried to breathe, his throat made a whistling noise before the bones shuffled and clacked against each other. Toby couldn’t feel pain but damn it was annoying as hell. The sun and the sparse air weren’t helping either.

Soon enough he was able to sit up and saw Masky still unresponsive on the ground with the jacket still over his head, making Toby almost jealous that he was shaded from the sun. He saw their belongings in between them, including his hatchets which served as his motivation to get up. He peeled down his mouthpiece to spit out the blood that congealed underneath his gums and wiped his cheek.

He made his way to Masky and lifted the jacket. Damn, he almost wanted to put it back because his face would not win for Bachelor of the Year. Even against Jeff.

Both of his eyes(the one hanging and the one in his skull) were unfocused and cloudy and Toby would assume he was dead other than the fact neither of them can die. Toby wondered if he should push one of Masky’s eyeballs back into its socket. Would Masky do the same for him? Toby grumbled before using the sleeves of the suit jacket as a glove to shove the eye back in.

His nose hole(the cartilage and skin of his nose were shredded off) was still streaming blood. And Toby felt just by looking at Masky’s skull, he lost too much bone support to the point that he might witness Masky's brain fall right out of his head if he bobbed his head too much. Good thing he spotted the handkerchief that Vincent used that was on the ground and quickly cut it into two pieces using his hatchet. Then he proceeds to use one of the pieces to clog Masky’s nose and the other to stuff parts of his skull so the brain wouldn’t wiggle—- screw sanitation and infections.

And to finish the deal, he ties the jacket over Masky’s head using the sleeves because damn him if he had to carry his partner and look at his face at the same time. After Toby did his first aid, he peeked over the roof and ticked when he could barely see the ground. He would normally try to scale down the building with his hatchet but he was on a skyscraper made with glass. So fat chance. He didn’t have anything except for his hatchets, a broken Masky and his equally broken mask, and Masky’s knife.

Toby thinks.

Pocketing the white mask and the knife, he dragged Masky to the edge of the roof. Toby aimed one last time before grabbing both of his partner’s hands and feet. And then he jumped. Making sure Masky’s unconscious and definitely more injured body was below his feet while they both free fell.

Toby heard Masky choke on both his own blood and the fabric of the jacket trying to scream in pain but Toby took it as a sign he was still fine and dandy. He could’ve fallen on his own two feet and not feel a thing, but that didn't mean he wouldn’t suffer broken bones. And seeing how he was responsible for getting Masky back to the mansion, it seemed like a worthy sacrifice for Masky’s back to take the brunt of the fall.

Toby was about to laugh at his genius plan actually working but then his throat tightened and twisted, making him gag(is this karma?). He frowns, draping Masky over his back for a piggyback. He was about to walk away until he saw the crime scene. The body was gone and the place was parameterized with yellow police caution tape. But the car was still there with no police officers guarding it.

He didn’t bother searching that dead chauffeur because he doubted the working servant could hide a stack of cash in a slim uniform. But the shiny, big, and luxurious car had a completely different story. He ignored it before because he and Masky were out to find and kill people. But now they had all the time in the world to save that killing for later. And even if he doesn’t find anything, he can take the steering wheel to wack someone with it later.

He peeked in the windows and was annoyed at how they were tinted black and reflective, so he used a hatchet to bash the windows in. He spotted a leather briefcase that had a handle almost waiting to be taken. Toby grinned, pleasantly surprised when it was pretty heavy, too.

He dropped Masky’s body in favor of looking through the bag, smearing blood on the fabric. He blinked when he found Vincent’s corporate card, that fucker is the CEO? He sneered at the smiling vampire that stared back at him. Opening another zipper discovered a fancy laptop and phone that Ben should be able to use. And score! He found a checkbook and a wallet that might only have cards but still! Limitless access to bank accounts to the asshole that tried to kill him! There were also boring papers that he left alone because he didn’t care.

Carrying the bag and Masky, he made his way to a forest that had thicker bunches of trees the further he went. At some point, the sky turned gray like a lens on a camera even though it was clear and blue on the outskirts. And the trees started to lose their leaves with the branches reaching out more and looking like black fingers. There was even an ominous crowing with no birds in sight. But there was a bare path that had handprints on the trees and some decaying corpses hanging on some tree branches.

All of this led to a Victorian looking mansion that had clearly seen some better days. There’s an overgrowth of mold and plant life climbing up some of the walls and window frames that were one gust of wind away from falling. Some windows were cracked with some completely missing. Even the porch had discolored and splintering wood with the painting clipping off nearly everywhere. And there was an unknown streak of something dark leading to the door that Toby was pretty sure was dried blood.

“What the hell happened to you? Is that the mask fucker?” Jeff asked the moment Toby got inside, motioning to the guy on Toby’s back. He was sitting on the couch with his eyelid-less gaunt eyes, which were bloodshot and crusty beyond humanly possible, stared suspiciously at the two injured killers. His carved smile opened to ask another question but Toby was ignoring him and had already left too much of a distance between him and Jeff.

Toby went looking for Eyeless Jack’s room and started to kick it once he found it. If he wasn’t in his room, he’d have to look for Nurse Ann. And while they both have medical knowledge, Nurse Ann likes to both murder and help people with her fucking chainsaw. And while Jack might try to eat your kidneys, Toby would rather try his luck with that than be chopped apart.

“What?,” Eyeless Jack opened the door, pulling it away from another swing of Toby’s foot. Even though Jack had his big blue mask with the eye cutouts dripping something black, Toby could feel him assessing both him and the covered head of Masky. Jack sighs, annoyed that there's more work for him. “Come in.”

Toby walks into the room and drops Masky and the briefcase against the wall. He takes off his hoodie and mouthpiece so Jack can inspect the non-alignment of Toby’s neck. Jack stares for a few minutes before opening some drawers and taking out his scalpels and other medical supplies.

“Lay down—- not on my bed—- but get comfortable. I’ll try to be quick but your neck is practically nonexistent,” Jack says, not offering any painkillers even though he had some in his cabinet.

Ever since Toby underwent the ritual to become Slenderman’s proxy, the new awakening made it so nearly all human made substances were ineffective. And that meant a long list of drugs, alcohol, and medicine were now useless. Something about their new regenerative ability filtered their body too often and too quickly for the substances to take effect. And it’s the same with Masky and Hoodie, but Masky was already knocked out and Hoodie wasn’t injured. Toby wouldn’t need anything for the pain but damn it would’ve been nice if there was a drug to make him fall asleep or high off his ass so he wouldn’t be sober while the eyeless creep operated on him.

Toby angrily ticks.

——-

Ben was currently fiddling with some gaming console with Sally hovering over his shoulder. Both were on a couch but Sally was on her knees to get a higher vantage point. Quiet, dramatic music leaked out of the device with Sally gripping and swaying her friend’s shoulder in her excitement. Ben saw both Toby and Masky walk over to them, Toby extending a laptop towards him. Busy, Ben gave them a glance before returning to his game. Which led to an impatient Toby starting to poke Ben in the head with the laptop.

“What? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“We need you to check to see who this laptop belongs to,” Masky sighed, talking on behalf of a mute Toby. Masky had his mask back on, most likely a replacement for the broken one. But that didn’t hide the obscene bandages that nearly covered his entire head except for some flicks of hair leaking out. Even his voice was a bit strained and muffled beneath the mask. Toby also had some white bandages peeking through the neckline of his hoodie but it was less noticeable.

“Sure,” Ben grumbled, “in a minute”

“Go, Ben! Go!,” Sally cried, even though the gamer expert was already closing in on the finishing line of their little race. Little trumpets blasted in celebratory cheer as Ben grinned smugly.

“So, what’s up?” Ben asked, finally turning to Masky who had been patiently waiting with an eye roll. Sally also glanced up, her curious, childlike green eyes a sickening, yet beautiful contrast to the bloody drips from her forehead. All prettily dressed in a light pink dress.

Ben wore mostly green: green collared shirt and hat. There was a brown belt and black pants. His eyes were nearly completely black with a red pupil that cried tears of blood. Ben sets the gaming console aside to reach for the laptop and turns it on.

“Toby had stolen a briefcase from a guy who tried to kill us. The laptop was inside,” Masky said, silently still impressed that the laptop wasn’t split into two after being in Toby’s hands. He watched as the password screen glitched with green sparks before unlocking.

“Whoever he was did a number on you guys, I can tell,” Ben snorted while keeping his eyes on the computer. He started opening files and whatever browsers. Masky grunted, knowing not to curse someone out in front of Sally.

“Are you okay, Masky? Toby?” Sally asked, her face scrunched up in worry—- probably one of the few people who would openly care for others in their mansion.

“We’re fine, Sally. Jack patched us up,” Masky replied, placing his heavy hand on top of the girl’s curly brown hair in a reassuring pat. Toby moved in front of her to flex his arms, even though nobody could see his muscles, just the fact he could still do stupid poses was a relief.

“Yo! Wait, this laptop belongs to Vincent Hensley?” Ben paused and stopped moving, his eyes widened as he motioned at the screen displaying Vincent’s bank information. All three of them stared at the stupid amount of trailing digits. Masky shoots Ben an unamused look as Toby sat himself on Ben’s free side to look at the computer.

“Who?”

Ben almost had a spasm before remembering everyone around him were sheltered idiots who lived under a rock in the middle of the woods. He forced himself out of his bewilderment to open a new tab and soon enough pictures of Vincent’s face flooded the screen. Masky scowls and Toby’s fingers were twitching for his hatchets, both recognizing the CEO even though Vincent’s seen harmlessly smiling or posing in front of his building’s logo. Some other photos even have him accepting some sort of award from some jolly, round fella that serves as a silly comparison to Vincent’s taller and muscular silhouette.

“Vincent Hensley! Our nation's hottest businessmen!” and Ben wasn’t lying. He clicked on a pop culture link with the title Top 10 Hottest CEOs Bachelors and Their Companies with Vincent being posted on top of the list. Masky was pretty sure the photo was photoshopped because there was no way teeth could be that white or skin that radiant.

“What’s going on? Whatever it is— I will not be patching you up for a second time,” Eyeless Jack said as he walked over to the group. He was preoccupied earlier with cleaning his scalpels from blood and body matter thanks to Masky and Toby. And doing impromptu surgery took a bite out of his medical supplies. Good thing his floorboards were already soaked brown with blood or else he would’ve been really pissed.

“These two crossed paths with one of the richest businessmen in the country and got their asses beat. How did you two manage that? Did he have bodyguards with him?” Ben smirked, still finding whatever the laptop had to offer. Time for a browser history deep dive.

“No, he was just really strong. And fast. I don’t think he was human,” Masky said. Toby turned around and started slapping Masky’s arm like a child wanting their parent's attention. Masky was about to slap him back until Toby waved his hands around and made a scene of putting his finger in his mouth. “Oh, and he tried some blood from a guy that Toby killed. And now that I think about it, his eyes glowed red.”

“What were his eyes originally?”

“Uh, not red. Green? Brown?”

“How did you not remember?”, Jack asked, his blue masked head positioned in a way you can tell he was giving an ironic side eye.

“It’s not like I stare at my victims’ eyes when I’m prepared to kill them,” Masky made an excuse even though it was because he had a jacket thrown over his head before he blacked out. He pointedly ignored how Toby had a shit-eating grin as he silently giggled, knowing that nobody would be able to tell what happened because it was definitely not going to be Masky himself.

“If this guy was so strong, why aren’t you guys, like, kidnapped and tortured?” Sally asked with an innocent head tilt. She didn’t mean anything mean by it and she definitely didn’t want anything bad to happen to her friends. It’s just her field of censorship widens to include gore and death considering their line of work.

This question triggered Toby to get up from the couch and like a true award winning actor, he tried to perform a series of charades. The group watched as Toby proceeded to point upwards with his arms five times before jumping from one place to another. And then he did some obscene hand movements. Combined with his natural twitching….Eyeless Jack didn’t have eyes but even he would say that it was a sorry sight.

“Just type it out, idiot,” Ben scoffed and he turned the laptop to Toby. And said idiot brightened like the idea never crossed his mind. Toby typed it out pretty quickly and turned the laptop back to the group.

The suit man was supperrr pissed that Masky and I didn’t die! Then he teleported Masky and I and all of our stuff to the roof! Then he disappeared. I don’t know man, I say don’t look at the gift horse in the mouth.

“Imagine if he’s gonna find you guys and finish the job,” Jack smirked, which would be a lot more threatening if any of them actually cared for their lives.

“Wait, if we were on the roof. How did you get us down?” Masky said, not believing that Toby would take the time to carry him down anything more than 10 flights of stairs. All of the buildings near the fight were tall skyscrapers. And if he was honest, he’s just glad that Toby didn’t leave him. If he did, he would tear Toby’s organs out of his stomach one at a time.

Masky narrowed his eyes when Toby ignored him, walking away from the computer. He twirled his head like he was listening to a tune and in his own little la-la land. Jack also chose to stay silent to not mention how Masky had some dirty, unknown stained napkin stuffed in his head—- predicting that it would only make Masky madder.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!” Masky was so ready to shoot Toby in the foot. Toby shrugs and then gestures to his throat. He zips his lips and tosses the key. And then he makes an oh-so-sorry face and doesn’t flinch when he hears a gun reload.

“Wait,” Ben interrupted, “if this guy can teleport, drink blood, and eyes glow red. Then would that make him a vampire?”

“A vampire? They exist?” Sally asked, her voice tightened with anticipation.

“You’ve watched too many fictional shows, Ben,” Jack said.

“And you clearly not enough. Bro, do you not know the lore behind them?,” Ben started to list stuff off: “some people claim that they have a hierarchy and royalty. Like real medieval type stuff. Or like some have special abilities. Some fly and can turn into bats.”

“That’s all stuff people make up from the internet.”

“Well, yeah, obviously. That’s why you need to do your own research. Search for the stuff that’s actually credible,” Ben said, almost insulted since the internet is basically his domain. He opens an online forum about vampires, “No, wait, listen to this: ‘vampires are incredibly charming to humans and that’s how they’re baited. Vampire saliva has sedative and sometimes aphrodisiac properties so once their fangs sink in, the humans are defenseless. Some selective vampires even have special abilities.”

Both Toby and Masky snapped their attention at the word “sedative”, pausing in their bickering. They wouldn’t be interested if they hadn’t exhausted every other option. They have tried drowning themselves, chewing on loud metal nails, and Toby was even desperate enough to stab his own ears—- which proved useless if the voices were inside his head. At one point, they even asked Sally(who would relatively keep them safe while asleep but she did dress them up for a tea party) to induce a concussion to combat whatever was going inside their heads.

Masky seemed sane most days. Maybe appeared a little depressed and a bit grumpy like he has a stick up his ass—- but that’s pretty common among serial killers. But on days when their boss seems particularly harsher with his communication, a high-pitched screech and amplified pulsing in his head won’t leave him alone for hours.

And sometimes when he’s killing, there are particular victims (always crying for either mercy or a bitter farewell) that look awfully similar to people in his past life. That will trigger memories that Masky doesn’t associate himself with anymore but the flashbacks will plague his mind with a toxic what-it-could’ve-been for days at a time. Don’t get him wrong, he isn’t a stranger to hallucinations. Doctors thought he was schizophrenic when he saw traits of Slenderman. But now instead of black tentacles and a blank white face, he gets visits from people who should be long since dead.

Toby also sees people, but that isn’t new. He’s been seeing people long before he became a proxy— whether it is dead or alive family members. He’s been seeing fire and reliving bullying incidents to the point he’s gotten used to it. So he’s definitely proud of the fact he can handle it better than Masky and sometimes rubs it in his face.

Toby is, of course, not an exception to Slenderman’s tendencies. But sometimes he would appreciate the mind-numbing static when it silenced the voices in his head. Sometimes it would be useful like coming up with a new method of torture he wouldn’t come up with himself. Other times it’ll be annoying to try to persuade him to do something when he has his mind set on something else. But when it wants to be agonizing, the voices will bring up delicate incidents and psychoanalyze every proclaimed mistake Toby made. And combined with the mind games that’ll make him scratch the flesh off his bones, it often leads him to sit in his own bloody mess.

If only they could get high enough, or better yet: unconscious, so their mental instability couldn’t touch them in a barrier of artificial tranquility. That’s why the mention of the vampire saliva piqued their interest. They wondered if they would utilize that for their own gain, like how people use snakes to harvest venom.

“Hmm,” Jack hummed. While the two proxies were focused on the saliva, he was curious about what vampire organs would taste like. He suspects it wouldn’t be as repulsive as cooked human food. But the vampires were dead(?) creatures so he wonders if they’ll taste like spoiled meat.

“I really wanna meet one!” Sally cried. Her mild curiosity exploded when Ben started to ramble about unproven, crazy stories. She giggled when Toby pressed both of his fists against his cheeks and curled his pointer finger to imitate fangs.

“Should we try kidnapping one?” Jack asked.

“I was hoping you’d say that!” Ben cheered, his hands morphing into green strings of electricity hovering over the laptop to find Vincent’s address by pinpointing the location of the businessman's other devices. “Oh, and keep this quiet from Jeff. That idiot will most likely charge in and make himself into a new blood bag.”

Toby perked up and flapped his hand. He mimicked the motion of pulling a hood over his head before shaking his fists in excitement.

“You want Hoodie to join us?” Ben asked. Toby nodded.

“Sure, why not,” Ben shrugged.

Masky clicked his tongue but didn’t say anything. Even though he and Hoodie don’t get along, they’ve had too many forced partnerships that made them compatible in missions. But Masky will always call him a motherfucker with a gun. Toby thinks they just have a hate boner for each other

Chapter 4: Break In

“Do you have any bottles of Chardonnay,” Vincent asked while already knowing the answer. There’s no way any adequate restaurant calling itself fine dining wouldn’t have the common wine types.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Give me your best bottle,” Vincent said before the waiter excused himself with a courteous nod.

He pulled out a rather large touch screen with an adjustable display case and pushed aside his menu to set the device on the polished wooden table. Vincent had told the lady on the reception desk that he wanted a table that had good lighting and was a bit quieter, unlike the romantic setting for the regular customers. So his table was more isolated but he could still hear the live piano playing on the main stage.

“Sir, I’ve gotten you our Chardonnay that had been aged for a decade to produce the very best mature flavors,” the waiter advised. Vincent looked up from his tablet, which had statistics and a slide show presentation that he had prepared for tonight’s dinner. He turned it off to direct his attention to the server who took his empty wine glass that was on the table to hand Vincent a sample. The buyer swirled it in his glass before taking a sip.

“Good, I’ll take it,” Vincent said and watched the waiter pour more and then set the bottle in the ice bucket.

“Would you like to order anything?”

“No, I’ll wait for my friends, thank you,” Vincent gave a charming smile. The waiter gave a polite one of his own before walking away.

Vincent had arrived 15 minutes before the agreed-upon time to meet up with his employees. The reservation was under his name, and he supposed it was only right that he was the one patiently waiting. But other than talking about a new launch for a device that has been under development for a few years, this meeting was rather routine and lackluster.

So instead of memorizing the same customer satisfaction rating as last year, he decided to check his bank account. In the recent purchases, the log book stated that he bought a ‘turbo’ water gun, a hoverboard, a literal exotic ostrich, and other oddities.

Vincent blinked.

Oh, right, he forgot to cancel the cards that were stolen that other night. He wasn’t pleased that his money was being spent on those cockroaches(because no matter how hard he stomped, they wouldn’t die). But it wasn’t like they were buying a private jet or an island, so his bank account was dent free.

But he still pressed a little button on his screen to lock his cards, a simple little thing that took 2 seconds. If only he had done this sooner.

With that done, he decided to check the heart rate of his blood bag at home. The metal shackle on the human ankle gave Vincent updates on the girl’s heart rate and location every 5 minutes. Vincent took a bored sip of wine, noticing the girl’s heartbeat was more elevated than usual. Maybe she was watching a scary movie or competing in an online game.

But when the screen refreshed, a big fat zero took place for her heart rate. Vincent narrowed his eyes and checked the girl’s location. The shackle was still in the girl’s room and there was no way to remove it unless you amputated the entire leg.

Vincent switched over to check the cameras that were placed in her room and out in the hallway. But the footage was black. Even when he tries to rewind the tape, it’ll only show what happened yesterday.

“Vincent?”

Vincent glanced up to spot two expected visitors. One of them was a taller man who was dressed in a desert color suit. He had thin metal framed glasses and gelled black hair. The other one was a shorter lady who was dressed in an elegant gray and blue dress. She had artfully curled brown hair and silver earrings. She smelled sweeter than the man, and it wasn’t just because of her perfume.

“Ah, yes,” Vincent quickly turned off his phone and placed it face down on the table, “excuse me. Please, have a seat.”

“I’m sorry, were you waiting long?” the lady greeted as she placed her bag on the table. She shifted in her seat and the lights shined off her earrings.

“No, not at all. I’m just glad you two could make the time out of your busy schedules.”

“That’s coming from the busiest man in the company,” the glasses-wearing man smiled. He pointedly faced Vincent as his smile melted off his face. “My condolences for what happened.”

“Oh, yes! That was terrible! I’m so sorry you had to witness that,” the lady added.

“It was quite unfortunate. And he was a good friend,” Vincent said as he put on a weak smile. He deliberately paused and sighed, “But never mind that. Deadlines won’t reach themselves.”

The lady, who was sitting diagonally from him, reached over to clasp his hand. Vincent had to stop himself from grimacing. He hoped that his cold hands weren’t too weird for the warm and slightly clammy hands that were holding his.

“Nobody would blame you if you took some time for yourself, you know. What you saw would traumatize anyone. And we all get 2 months of paid vacation leave. Lord knows you’re one of the few who doesn’t take them,” the lady said. The man beside her nodded in agreement.

“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind, Linda. But working is where I feel most comfortable. I promise I’m taking care of myself,” Vincent said, placing his free hand on top of Linda’s. With a quick squeeze, he broke off to pour both of his guests some white wine—- hoping that he successfully changed the topic this time.

This was going to be a long meeting.

————

[A few hours ago - Creepypasta manion]

“Huh, interesting,” Ben muttered.

“Wha-what’s wrong?” Toby asked, his voice cracking since it wasn’t done healing. Eyeless Jack estimated 2 weeks for the ligaments to grow back and stretch marks to vanish, even with his advanced regeneration. Toby called it baloney; he didn’t have the patience to wait that long.

Toby was wiping down his hatchet from bird blood. He had ordered a huge ostrich that was coming from Africa. He even had a cute name “Peckers” prepared and a little dog bed(that didn't fit)! But then Masky and a few others didn’t like his new sidekick because they couldn’t deal with the stench, bird poop, and the trails of feathers. Toby called them haters but relented.

So Toby hosted a barbecue!

He set up a huge campfire and cut down some sturdy trees to roost Peckers over. It took 6 hours to cook that thing! But it was actually really good, like Toby-would-do-it-again good! He also has leftovers for the next few weeks because he definitely isn’t going to share with the others when they discriminated against birds! And to think Peckers only cost a few thousand dollars.

Now he was cleaning up because Slenderman would be upset if he left the campfire unattended. Imagine if the whole mansion came crashing down. But if Toby was going to do arson, it wouldn’t be for some overgrown rotisserie chicken.

He was currently with Ben, who was doing some research or something. Maybe planning a break in method into the vampire’s house. He kinda hopes Ben’s hacking session got ruined by a super strong firewall because it’ll be funny to see Ben red with anger. He’ll look like a strawberry with his green hat.

“The construction blueprint for Vincent’s house only got approved with 3 upper floors, that’s all above ground level. But there’s a complex security system underneath the house that’s controlled by Vincent’s devices,” Ben explained.

“Oh? St-security ss-systems means ca-cameras, right?”

“Yep. Trying to break through now,” Ben said, “Ta-da! Done!”

Toby stuffed his cleaned hatchets in his holsters and walked over to Ben. He saw the screen that’s split into 9 sections, each displaying a frame of footage. 8 of them were stationary and didn’t have anything moving in them. They were mainly positioned to keep watch of dark hallways and rooms.

“Looks like the vampire keeps human hostages,” Ben remarks, studying the 9th square on the bottom of the screen. “There’s also insane security doors and stuff. Two of the doors are programmed to shoot lasers at whatever’s producing body heat. Though upstairs isn’t really guarded that much, other than entrances. So I guess it’s only there to keep the hostages from leaving.”

“Why is tha-there only wa-one?” Toby asked.

“Ha, maybe she’s his favorite,” Ben mused.

“Do yu-you think she na-knows something?”

“Maybe. The girl looks comfortable in her room. So she’s probably been there for a while. Or knew Vincent before he brought her there.”

“Tha-think she’s ha-his lover?”

“Ha! Like some romantic teen drama? That’ll be hilarious,” Ben laughed, “But I don’t think so. She would be allowed to wander around and stuff if they were in a relationship. Maybe Vincent takes favors but that’s it.”

It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines. When people easily take away lives, they pass a line where morals don’t touch them. And that includes being forceful to satisfy any desire, whether it’s physical or sexual. But Ben only sees humans as entertainment to torture within the confines of a game or the internet, where he can control. On the other hand, Toby is rather rash and immediately kills his victims because he doesn’t have a use for them if they’re not dead or bleeding out. And at that point, the blood splatter and damaged dead bodies aren’t really Toby’s style.

“See a-anything else?”

“Well, I can tell you he has 3 smart refrigerators. One of them is for wine. The other is to cure meat? And one has groceries like,” Ben squinted at his screen, “some beef, broccoli, apples—- and would you look at that: garlic!”

Toby snickered, imagining stealing garlic from the vampire’s own fridge. He would gladly sacrifice his own sock if it meant he could make a very deadly sling of a garlic-stuffed sock.

“He also has a literal theater room with a wall-to-wall ultra visual flatscreen. A robot programmed to sort books? Virtual reality gym with a hidden pool. What the hell. When we kill this guy, we’re stealing his place,” Ben said, almost getting pissed by how insane this guy’s place is. And he can only connect himself to the technology that’s in the house, so he doesn't even want to think about the stuff he isn’t seeing.

“Ca-can you use any of it?”

“Hm, the robot doesn’t have any potential. It’s 2 feet tall. It’d be funny if I could get a workout bike to chase the vampire, but that might do more harm than good,” Ben mused, “I guess I could mess with the thermostat and lights. And maybe the water to flood the house. But there’s no point if it’s gonna be our place soon.”

“Well, anyway, we can honestly just go through the front door. There’s a simple lock that needs a code– but I mean, c’mon, you don’t need a hacker to get through that,” Ben scoffed. He thought about transporting himself through the really big unnecessary flatscreen, but then his pitiful human friends would probably break windows or something messy. And he doesn’t really trust them to stay on track.

Ben looked up from his computer to stare at Toby for a few minutes. He wasn’t going to bother to advise the psychopath to behave because Toby was inevitably going to do what Toby wants to do. But seeing as everyone already knows Toby is going to charge at the vampire with hatchets blazing, he wonders if Masky is concocting a plan to use that to their advantage.

“Wh-a-at?”

“Nothing. Just thinking you should sharpen your hatchet if you want to do any damage this time.”

“Hey!”

“Not like I’m wrong or are you purposely forgetting about the bandages around your neck?” Ben smirked while swinging his head back, confidently dodging the hatchet Toby took from his holsters.

“Sha-shut up, you hydrophobic ba-bitch!”

—---------

“You sure the place’s empty?” Masky asked for the third time on the way to the vampire’s mansion. Ben rolled his eyes, debating on if he should lock Masky in a room with a virus.

“Yes. On Vincent’s planner, he has a dinner scheduled with coworkers. So he should keep himself occupied for the next few hours. Right now, he should be sitting down and having fancy breadrolls and lobster or whatever rich people eat,” Ben said as he took out his phone, “And I have it set so I know Vincent’s location. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if he’s coming.”

“You’re forgetting he can teleport,” Masky said in a sour tone, no doubt pouting behind his mask.

“Well, then we’ll bent over so we can get screwed faster— I don’t know, we’ll figure it out!” Ben snapped, clearly getting pissed by Masky’s paranoia. And it didn’t help that Toby was giggling while Hoodie and Eyeless Jack were marching forward without any fanfare.

“Woah, e-is that th-the place?” Toby gushed, his grin stretching his mouthguard wider to make him look more manic. Ben silently compared the place to the address he had on file before nodding. “It doesn’t la-look very g-gothic. Ka-kinda disa-apointing.”

“It is very secluded, though,” Eyeless Jack commented, turning his head to glance at the long roads and no neighbors in sight. Granted, part of it was due to the big landscaping property outside the mansion and the woods near the back of the house, but still.

The 5 of them easily climbed over the fancy gate with lights decorating the brick pathway. Once they made their way to the big, wooden double doors, Ben simply hovered his hand over the electronic padlock before tiny green static made the machine combust. Ben was the first to push open the doors.

“There aren’t any lights?” Hoodie wondered as he surveyed the dark room with his flashlight— something he had prepared for things like this.

“Shut up, of course there are lights. Just open your eyes,” Masky grumbled before studying the walls and noticing that, in fact, there weren’t any light switches.

“Hold on, most of the stuff in this house are voice activated. And seeing how none of us sound like Vincent..just give me a minute.” Ben said and he fiddled with his phone. Soon, with a click, the entire house was lit up, including stupid display lights that were pointed at art portraits and little chandeliers.

“Damn, and he lives here alone?” Masky said, admiring the house and the little muddy footsteps that he and his friends brought in from the woods. He grinned before walking over to an expensive-looking rug and swiping his shoes on it, not wanting footprints that the vampire would be able to track down.

“Okay, right. So there’s a downstairs basement that’s all security and if nobody wants to be a volunteering hacker, I’ll get that covered,” Ben said.

“I-I wa-want to ma-meet the wo-human girl!” Toby exclaimed, knowing that exploring houses can be done any day of the week. And so is killing a girl, but still. Toby wasn’t one to turn down bloodshed.

“Alright,” Ben rolled his eyes, reading Toby’s mind, “Then I guess you three take care of the upper floors. I don’t know if there will be anything interesting but like, I don’t know, find a weakness and steal some stuff. I’ll flicker the lights or something if I need you.”

None of the 3 answered as Ben and Toby started to walk away, no doubt more than one of them seething at the arrangement because Masky definitely was. Out of 4 possible partners, he ended up with two mute killers.

“Okay. Do we want to start from the top or bottom floor?” Masky asked and waited. He got no response. Go figure. “Okay, from the top it is.”

Masky took the initiative to lead the group up 2 sets of stairs, his hand comfortable around his knife in case anyone(Hoodie) behind him got trigger happy. He tried not to get unnerved by Hoodie’s heavier footsteps and Eyeless Jack’s careless average ones as he tried to be on the lookout for any traps. But paranoia is relentless after working for a creepy tall predator in a suit.

He sneaked down the hall with one hand sliding across the wall to either brace himself or make himself a smaller target. He reached one end of the hallway which would obviously lead to the master bedroom, where he slowly twisted the door knob and nudged the door open with his foot. The door opened smoothly and eerily quietly.

The lights were already on courtesy of Ben. And Ben wasn’t lying when there weren’t any traps— not wanting to jinx it but they didn’t come across any so far. The room itself was decorated like it was going to be the front cover of some interior home design magazine. The bed was made, and the countertops were flawless. Expensive little accents combined the room to make it look whole, like a personal flatescreen, electric fireplace, and deskset. But it also looked strangely unlived in, like it was just for show.

“Hmm,” Jack thought, noticing the hardwood flooring was almost sparkling and yet the books on the bookcase were collecting dust. He walked over to the bed to grab a pillow. He sniffed it and it didn’t smell like anything other than stall air. Not like a body odor or shampoo, but it also didn’t smell fresh like some laundry detergent.

“Someone keeps this room clean but nobody lives here,” Jack commented in his conclusion.

“Yeah, I agree,” Hoodie said, fiddling with the TV remote and pressing buttons. When Hoddie first turned the TV on, the factory reset screen was displayed. So he guesses Vincent hadn’t used it in a while or at all. The TV was equipped with a variety of streaming services, channels, and even games. But when Hoodie tried to look at any shows that were watched, the archive came back empty.

“Whelp, someone definitely strips in here, though,” Masky said as he stared at the discarded clothing in the porcelain white bathroom. Masky went over to inspect the cabinet stored inside the mirror for any personal items, but it only had the mandatory stuff that should be expected to be in there. Like some razors and shaving cream. It wasn’t until he walked around(like did an entire lap and lunge surrounded by suits and jewelry) in Vincent’s closet, is where he got annoyed. The vampire had so much money but he couldn’t be bothered to store anything vulnerable in his own room?

He grunted, spitefully snatching a shiny watch from its display case and sliding it into his pocket. As revenge, of course.

The other rooms weren’t much better. Though when they made their way to the opposite side of the hallway, there was a room that had two doors bound by a thick chain and padlock. Other than the master bedroom, all the other doors revealed to be boring stuff like other bedrooms and decked out office(spoiler: also didn’t have anything interesting. There was no use in hacking into the computer when Ben has his fun with Vincent’s portable one). So hey, if Vincent practically posted a glaring “Keep Out” sign, then surely it must be worth something.

“Hold on,” Jack called out, stopping Hoodie some bashing the chain with the curve of his gun. Jack pushed Hoodie aside and pulled out one of his scalpels to use it to lockpick. The lock opened and the chains loudly clattered to the floor. Unlike the master bedroom, this door creaked open with some rusty hinges.

“Damn, I guess the cleaning missed this room,” Masky muttered his breath. There were dark curtains that covered the giant windows, and the dull lighting reflecting off of them made the room seem depressing. As the 3 guys walked further into the room, their simple movements stirred the layer of dust that seemed to want to stick to every available surface.

Tarps covered the obvious shape of a grand piano. An empty violin case lay on top of it with the actual instrument abandoned next to an empty glass with an accompanying bottle of scotch. Some tarps were covering attachments on the wall, which Hoodie peeked to be older paintings. And old in the literal sense. It was a portrait of some sort of noble lady who wore a confident grin, a modest dress, and a necklace that was assumed to be shiny because the ancient art style had a hard time of showing it. The paint has a visible chunky consistency, and the pigment was degraded like too much time had passed.

Hoodie lifted the painting to inspect the back, where there was only one engraving, “1732” with dedicated caption of “My muse”.

Close to the wall, there was a propped-up tubed-shaped thing that was, of course, covered. Masky flipped the fabric to reveal some sort of glass casket. There was a lady with features awfully similar to the portrait Hoodie found, with the only exception is that the corpse(?) was older. While the perfected, idolized painting showed the girl radiating with limited technique, the real-life inspiration seemed rather disappointing. Her skin was almost gray with her unkept brown hair frizzing. Her eyes and mouth were closed with her arms tackily positioned to give off an angelic pose. She was wearing a dull blue dress that seemed stolen from a medieval renaissance fair.

“You guys think she was a human sacrifice?” Jack asked.

“That can’t be right. No way a vampire would put this much work for someone that was meant to die,” Masky answered as he flipped the fabric down to lay the woman back in her secluded darkness.

“Maybe he was just fragile at heart,” Hoodie said. Masky snorted, yeah sure, someone like that would be able to bash Masky’s face in, totally.

Next to the casket, there were a couple of shelves lined together that Hoodie exposed. When Hoodie lifted yet another tarp, he was surprised at the metallic glint that reflected from the room’s light. On the shelves were an arsenal of weapons that ranged from humble daggers to mallets to the beginning models of a gun. He took a thin blade that had ineligible engravings that mimicked the patterns of a language. And when Hoodie gently touched a tip, his fingers came back with a thick, sticky texture.

“What is that?” Masky asked, his voice darkened with suspicion.

“I think it’s something herbal. It smells faint, so if it was a poison, it probably doesn’t work anymore,” Hoodie said after smelling it.

“How sure are you about that? About you not going to die after touching it.”

“There are worse ways to die,” Hoodie shrugged. He passed over the knife to Jack when the blue masked guy motioned it with his hand. Jack held the handle just fine but when his fingers brushed against the blade and feeling the herbal residue, his skin burned. And he didn't even cut himself.

"What the hell."

"You feel something? Maybe the position is selective and it hates you," Masky snorted. Jack was not amused.

“These are really old, clearly hand-made,” Hoodie commented as he grabbed a crossbow that seemed fairly geometric with flat blemishes like it was trimmed with a knife, “But it’s still in peak condition.”

“You think the vampire cleans and polishes an army's worth of weapons?”

“No, it wouldn’t make sense for him to use stuff like this. This is the stuff you see when knights and stuff used to be a thing,” Hoodie said, glancing at the literal armor stand, “I think this came from the dead miss.”

“So what, it's some cursed objects that a vampire just keeps around?” Masky said with a bewildered glare.

“Sure. Do you want me to suggest magic instead? Vampire killer items?”

“These engravings,” Jack interrupted before the bickering could continue, “Maybe they could be a clue.”

“I’ll send it to Ben,” Hoodie offered as he pulled out his phone, knowing it’s easier to directly ask the dictionary than to go scavenger hunting through the internet himself. He took a photo of the engraving that was on the crossbow and sent it to Ben.

Sooner than later, a text came back:
Yo! That’s a language from a religious textbook, kinda like the Bible’s adjacent cousin. Basically, it says something like “For every drop away from thirst is an evil soul purified and banished to hell.” It’s used to kill monsters and bad, spooky things. So like, yeah, it would do big damage to Jack cuz he’s a demon. Where did you find that?

Hoodie answered with the truth and got a text back:

That’s cool! Kinda lunatic that Vincent keeps it in his own house, but who’s to judge. Bring some weapons with you, it’s not like the vampire is going to miss them.

Hoodie didn’t have to be told twice to grab the quiver of arrows that was originally arranged next to the cross bow. He positioned on his shoulder in a way that allowed him to effortlessly draw his gun, but he could still opt for the old-fashioned weapon when necessary. He would’ve taken one of the few guns on the shelves but he checked the ammo situation. There was only enough supply to fit a pencil case, and the gun itself needed to be reloaded after every shot. It seemed more trouble than it was worth.

Jack found a sheath so he took the thin blade that was already in his hands and a few smaller throwing knives. Masky took a pair of brass knuckles, a morning star, and a mace only because he thought Toby might like one. Would Ben like a handheld weapon? Who cares, Masky didn’t even like the game-character-second-rate-knock-off that much.

—-------

“Stay behind me,” Ben didn’t even finish his sentence before Toby started to prance forward. Immediately, he triggered some defense mechanism because red lasers started to scan around the perimeter. Ben watched as Toby’s self-taught agility allowed him to dodge the more fatal blows but one attack burned a bit of his calf. The smell of burnt flesh was pungent and unpleasant, with a deep red staining Toby’s pants and sock.

Ben rolled his eyes before doing a few quick taps on his phone before the lasers disappeared. Toby stared at Ben before switching to his bleeding leg and then back at Ben again.

“You ca-could’ve done that so-sooner,”. It wasn’t a question.

“Yep.”

“Fa-fuck you, ma-moldy ba-brread”

“Learn to listen to me, broken record player.”

“It’ll j-just get into ya-your head, breathing anchor,”

“Don’t make me become your new step-dad, low IQ-ed lumberjack”

The two continued like this while walking down the hallway. Not even their loud footsteps bouncing off the glossy tiles could overshadow their competitive battle of insults. But Ben was every-so-often tapping on his phone to deactivate upcoming traps to protect them— ‘them’ meaning Toby.

“She’s in there,” Ben pointed with his chin, inspecting the cameras that were in her room. He had turned off a few of the cameras in the hallway that would’ve announced their presence and is in the process of turning off the one in the girl’s room. Seeing how the girl’s door wasn’t locked, he just brushed right in.

“Who…?” the girl whispered, both confusion and hesitancy colored her face. This was the first time she had visitors other than Vincent and it was both refreshing and scary. She knows it’s been a while since actual people, but that doesn’t stop the bad feeling climbing up her spine. She couldn't ignore how the one in green had black eyes and the other in googles had an unnerving twitch.

Oh god, what if they’re vampires.

“Where’s Vincent?” the girl asked, her voice painfully high pitched and quiet. She was on her bed and was slowly dragging herself to lean her back against the bedframe while keeping her eyes on the two strangers.

“Actually, we were hoping to ask you some questions about him,” Ben said, “We’re kinda here to kill him.”

“Really?” the girl’s eyes widened as she gasped, relief and hope bursting in her chest. While Vincent’s cooking might be good, it won’t help her forget all the painful torment. She was practically treated like cattle, minus the lavish living conditions.

“Yep, tell us all you know,” Ben said, the girl noticing how he had one hand grasping Toby’s shoulder. Toby was staring at her like he was excited and starving at the same time. She chose to avoid eye contact with him.

“P-please help me!,” was this an appropriate time to start pleading for her life? The girl didn’t care, “There were 2 other guys that were kept here; one of them was a girl and the other a guy. He killed both of them, and I-I’m the only one left! He has been taking a lot more blood than usual, and I can just feel–”

“So he’s a vampire, right?” Ben interrupted her, sounding way too nonchalant at the presence of hearing the girl’s sob story. The girl stayed silent, slightly baffled. Ben took it as confirmation. “When does he usually come to see you?”

“Uh, every 10 days or so. It’s normally very late at night or early mornings,” the girl supplied, not bothering to add how his visits flipped the girl’s sleeping schedule on its head.

“Hm, if you’re his only blood source, that checks out. Human red blood cells get replaced every few weeks,” Ben said, one-handedly searching stuff on his tablet with his other hand still restraining Toby from killing his only live witness. Ben’s mind wandered; this vampire must be quite literal bloodthirsty. There’s no way that being fed less than once a week is enough to satisfy Vincent. Ben doubts he’s been getting blood from somewhere when he can just store humans underground like some cellar— especially how popular his name is.

“Did you notice any weaknesses? Like garlic or silver?”

“No, he has actually cooked food for me a handful of times. And most of those meals had garlic. I think when I was captured, I had silver jewelry and it didn’t seem to bother him. I also tried praying and, uh, it really had no effect. One of the girls that were captured tried to stab him, but it didn’t really faze him.”

“Do you know anything about some engravings or religious artifacts?”, Ben asked, thinking about the blocked off room Hoodie, Masky, and Jack found.

“What?”. That’s all she had to say.

“Nothing,” Ben dismissed before silently thinking, “Okay, go ahead, Toby.”

After nearly a year living under a dangerous vampire, the girl’s sense of self-preservation only skyrocketed. She started to pick up on risks and dangers like they were primal. And nothing scared the living daylights out of her than the crazed look Toby gave her, the orange goggles doing nothing to hide his dilated pupils. Dare she say he was scarier than Vincent!

She saw his hand reach down low but didn’t watch him grab one of his hatchets from his holsters; she was too busy pushing her body off her bed and dashing to her bathroom. She barely contained the scream with a gasp when Toby’s hatchet lodged itself in the closed door in front of her– making her abruptly skid to her knees.

“Vincent!” she cried. It was the only name she thought of. Since god knows her friends and family already thinks she’s dead. And she hoping– praying that maybe the territorial side of a vampire would protect her.

“Whoops, he’s a bit busy right now,” Ben commented like an answering machine when someone doesn’t answer their call. The girl turned her body to beg for mercy because at least the nicer-looking one might listen to her. But when she looked up, it was just in time to spot a hatchet thrown at her near eye-level.

A wet, crashing sound happened when the hatchet crunched through the thick layer of the girl’s head, right between the eyes. The force of the impact barreled her body into the bashed bathroom door, probably widening the crack of her skull. The splatter of blood was almost abstract since it created a little graffiti art.

Toby walked over to the corpse. He pinned the body under his foot and tugged his hatchet from the girl’s head. After a few tugs(he almost had to use his entire body weight; maybe he should use less force next time), he freed his weapon before striking it against the girl’s neck. It took 3 slams for the head to become loose enough for Toby to rip from the shoulders using his bare hands.

“What are you doing?” Ben grimaces, looking at the mess that Toby is creating. He had experience with gore and whatnot from the internet. But there was a beauty to watching live streams: not smelling rotting corpses or getting blood on his clothes.

“Ga-gotta pay t-that asshole back. Going to ma-mess w-with his fa-food be-because he ma-messed with me,” Toby giggled. He grabbed the girl’s head by the hair to drag her neck across the walls. The skin and bones of the girl’s neck were leaving streaks of weird patches of blood, and Toby kept going until the head went dry. Then he repeated the same process with the arms and legs.

Notes:

Lol, I don't know if you could tell, but the glass casket was inspired by Miraculous Ladybug--- Adrien's mom. And some stuff in this chapter was inspired by Diabolik Lovers. If any of you know what that is--- I'm so terribly sorry lmao.

Also, the characters are a but ooc because well... I don't really know how they act lol. And ngl, I didn't expect to like Ben as much as I do. Debating on adding a "Ben x OC" tag lolol.

Chapter 5: Confrontation

Vincent politely wiped his mouth, eyes glancing over his table. His tablet was still showing diagrams and massive numbers, which made him chuckle in success. The wine bottle was not quite empty seeing how everyone restrained themselves from having a third glass. And everyone chose inoffensive dishes; Vincent himself got the chicken, not wanting fish breath. 

 

He looked up to make eye contact with a waiter, nodding to signal for the bill. He waited until a plush, black folder was slid in front of him and silently slid his card in without looking at the price. It was one of the cards that Toby, sadly, didn’t have access to. 

 

“I must thank you again, Vincent,” Linda said as she set her utensils gently against her plate. The food was mostly eaten but the plate was not licked clean, of course, for etiquette.

 

“It’s no problem,” Vincent smiled, “I’m glad that the company is progressing smoothly. And it’s only due to capable workers like you two that can make it happen.”

 

“Well, you are a very understanding and objective-driven boss,” the male colleague responded, answering Vincent’s grin with his own. The three of them rose from the table. Vincent didn’t have to worry about tipping because gratitude was already added to the bill.

 

“I wish you both a pleasant evening, I believe my ride is out front,” the vampire said as he excused himself from the humans, adjusting his bag. “I’ll forward an email with a timeline for the development and if there are any changes.”

 

He walked out to a car that was in a designated spot for quick drop-offs or pick-ups. He greeted a new driver who was waiting for him, his face with the same unremarkable features as the dead one. 

 

“Take me to my house as fast as you can,” Vincent said, putting his bags down on the car seat and fishing out his phone. He checked the human whom he kept in his basement. No changes. Still no heartbeat detected. 

 

He knows that if she’s truly dead, there’s no way to resurrect her. But he doesn’t think it’s possible. He spent a dangerous amount of money to build a strict security system that would keep unnecessary things out and the needed things in. But nearly all of his cameras were deactivated and he lost signal with vault doors, laser shooters, and toxic gas dispensers. 

 

He knows the human girl isn’t capable of all that. So whoever barged their way in has very true intentions of ruining his day. 

 

Vincent briefly pondered about the two masked killers. He scoffed. Their rugged, ratchet clothing and impulsive-driven fighting style told him they weren’t really that smart or tech savvy. 

 

“We’re here, Mr. Hensley”

 

“Thank you. You can leave,” Vincent spoke behind gritted teeth. When the driver opened the car door for him, he was met with an overwhelming scent of sweetness that engulfed him in an intoxicating mist. Vincent quickly brushed past the driver, hoping that he didn’t catch his eyes glowing red from the smell of blood. 

 

Vincent quickly disciplined himself when he turned his back on his driver, maintaining an even footstep pattern. With every other step, he had to swallow the saliva that pooled in his mouth.

 

He knew this scent. It was from the human girl. It was so pungent that it was making him go crazy and he wasn’t even in his own house yet.

 

His ears were muffled, only straining his ears for the familiar heartbeat that he knew after so many months. But he couldn’t hear it. Only 3 new heartbeats to fit a scent of 5 different people. 

 

He didn’t bother to turn to see if his driver had fully left his property. He ignored that the padlock to his entrance to his house was jammed. But he did slam that door shut behind him, dropping his belongings and teleporting himself to the human girl’s room. His hunger is now digging itself a hole in his gut.   

 

———

 

[Earlier]

 

“How can you guys stand the smell?” Ben grumbled, his hat pressed against his nose to try and filter the air. When Masky, Hoodie, and Jack were done, Ben called them downstairs because Toby still hadn't finished his little art piece. He was in the process of tearing chunks of hair from the dead girl’s head and using congealed blood to stick it on the walls. 

 

Hoody shrugged, not minding the sharp smell of blood. His methods of killing were more personal than torturing someone through a computer screen. He admired the blood on the walls and connected the severed body parts and thought: yes, he could imagine this girl decorating the room like this. Not with the blood. The stuff that was under the blood.

 

“Toby, here,” Masky said, walking closer to the guy. His shoes make squishy noises and blurry footprints. He tossed a mace to Toby. Toby barely looked up and he didn’t drop the human head since he caught the offered weapon in his other hand. Without blinking, he pressed the human head against the wall to bash it with the spikes of his new weapon, doing a much better job at splattering brain matter than his straight-cut hatchets.

 

“Da-thanks,” Toby twitched, dropping the head and letting it roll away. He tossed the bloody mace on the bed to pick at the stray hairs that stuck to his gloves. 

 

“God, you could’ve left at least one chair blood free,” Ben complained, being forced to stand in place so only his brown shoes were colored red.

 

“Na-not mu-my style.”

 

“I can tell,” Ben deadpans, staring at Toby’s orange goggles that have red droplets dripping down them. 

 

“Where’s the vampire?” Jack asked. Ben scrolled on his tablet. 

 

“Still at the restaurant.”

 

“Should we set up some traps? Since the vampire will definitely want to come check on his human,” Jack said. Masky was silent as he crossed his arms. Behind his mask, he pursed his lips and thought.

 

“Can we not kill this vampire?”, Masky asked.

 

“What? Why?” Ben frowned.

 

“You said he was well known. So the investigation of his death would be pretty thorough compared to killing some average suburban. So we won’t be able to return to this property for the next year or maybe longer.”

 

“What type of bullshit is that?”, Ben asked. He was already planning to stage a suicide or to drive Vincent’s car off a tragic cliff— all options at least one mile away from the house. 

 

“Well, he’s cool, ain’t he? ‘Cause you like vampires.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s also cool being a vampire killer and posting pictures of a decapitated vampire head on the internet. What’s your point?”

 

“What’s up, Masky?” Hoodie added. He turned his head to the white mask guy, feeling something off. He watched Masky tilting his head like he was considering something.

 

“Vampire saliva can act as a sedative,” Masky answered, looking back at Hoodie. Hoodie wasn’t an exception to the proxy curse. Actually, the symptoms might be more prominent in that one. He died once(killed by his current coworker). And only by the grace and promise to do Slenderman’s bidding, he was resurrected with ominous means that would make a cultist blush. There were too many crossed out circles and black tentacles in that ritual.

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Ben grumbled, getting annoyed when Hoodie and Masky seemed to have their own silent conversation. 

 

“Ah-I aru-agree!” Toby interjected with a raised arm like a child in the classroom. Eyeless Jack stood still, not particularly caring about either side of the conversation. He softly patted the sheath of knives he kept in his hip, thinking that no matter what, they should be able to defeat the vampire if they were truly equipped with magical weapons. “We-we can farm h-his saliva like a-a faucet !”

 

 “Oh my god, you drug addicts,” Ben whispered, finally coming to the realization. He almost smacked his face in disbelief, regretting that he partnered up with the lowest degenerates human society has to offer. 

 

“Okay.” Hoodie said.

 

“Bro! Guys! Do you have anywhere to keep him? He’s gonna be like a bloodthirsty pet who can teleport!” Ben cried.

 

“We aren’t going to keep him locked up,” Masky announced and Ben was ready to throw his tablet against the wall, “Vincent would be desperate and left with no option to food. We can kill everyone within a 10 mile radius. I don’t care. But if we give him blood, he will give us his saliva in exchange.”

 

“That’s—“ Ben started but paused because his brain pulsed to brace against an incoming headache, “Yeah, okay, sure, try to calm and negotiate with a vampire who would obviously be okay with Toby killing his human and smearing her blood like peanut butter on bread.” 

 

“If he wants to fight, we’ll fight back. If he dies, then he dies,” Hoodie said nonchalantly. He pulled out one of the arrows he recently stole and twirled it between his fingers, familiarizing himself with the weight. Masky stared at Hoodie like he was about to disagree but he eventually nodded, knowing that the vampire could pose a threat. 

 

“I want to try to talk to him first. But we should plan traps in case he doesn’t cooperate,” Masky said. Ben stayed silent, looking around the room to see how he was easily outnumbered in this argument. He breathed a sigh that dropped his shoulders in defeat. 

 

“Okay, okay, fine. But I’m not dragging your spongy bodies anywhere if anything happens, got it?” Ben promised and then a creepy grin took over his face, “Here, I want to use the tech in this room to hook the speakers to the max. I heard vampire ears are sensitive.”

 

——-

 

The moment Vincent teleported himself to the girl’s bedroom, he felt his shoes sticking to the floor from the puddles of blood. And goddamn, if he thought the smell outside his mansion was intoxicating, he swore the smell in the room was creeping under his skin and making itself comfortable in every pore. He didn’t care how he was almost drooling, his fangs lengthening, or his fingernails curling into claws. 

 

“Vampire.”

 

His glowing red eyes snapped to the cluster of 3 guys that were closer to him than he expected, all of them near the center of the room. He peeked over the shoulders of the familiar black and white masked guy and saw the dismembered parts of his human scattered and discarded against the walls. Next to him were the orange goggles and someone new who had a black cloth mask over his face with red eyes and a stitched frown. Vincent idly noted the two others were also in the room with them; they’re wearing something blue and green.

 

So these suicidal maniacs brought reinforcements. 

 

Vincent saw that the weapon Masky held in his hand wasn’t the same useless knife he had seen when they first encountered each other. His pupils dilated in pure rage when his eyes were drawn to the item in Masky’s hand and noticed the intricate details that almost told a story and that it very much belonged to the vampire. Well, not directly to him. It was only entrusted to him because the original owner, his dead lover, had left due to the restraint of mortal life. How dare they—- they must’ve tainted the peace of his lover’s resting place to steal that.

 

A humorless, harsh chuckle left Vincent’s lips as he covered his eyes with one of his hands, trying to calm himself from losing it completely. It wasn’t working that well. 

 

“Listen, I-” Masky started but Vincent didn’t bother to wait. Vincent dropped his arms to his side and the next second, he teleported himself behind Masky. He had his fingers curved to optimize the deadly potential of his sharpened nails. He fully intended to stab Masky’s head like a barbeque skewer but instead, his hand was intercepted with the barrel of a gun.

 

“Ben!”, the guy in a yellow hood shouted while Masky took over, giving Hoodie enough distance to spam the trigger of his gun, clearing the ammo in the gun’s clamber. The vampire grimaced at the loud gunshots but made the bullets seem like they were nothing more than bug bites with small amounts of blood trailing down his arm.

 

“Cover your ears!” Ben shouted back. Hoodie retreated, trying to get a good distance to take cover and reload his gun. Toby and Masky quickly took his place, ambushing Vincent together—- Masky wielding his new morning star while Toby fought with his trusted hatchets. 

 

Vincent seemed to have no problem taking on the 3 trained killers, notably avoiding Masky’s attacks while being more direct with trying to disarm Toby and absorbing/deflecting Hoodie’s bullets without a flinch. When Ben pressed an innocent button on his tablet, a thunderous and preppy sound vibrated through the room. It was enough to make Toby visible wince but damn, Vincent’s body curled itself forward with his vision going white from the damage occurring on his ears. 

 

Both Eyeless Jack and Toby immediately tried to take advantage of the opportunity, Toby aiming for a headshot while Jack threw his tiny throwing knives at Vincent’s side. Now, Vincent wasn’t stupid but he also couldn’t move much without his head feeling like it was trying to vibrate itself into a smoothie. So Vincent tilted his neck, having a hatchet lodge itself deep in his shoulder. And he shielded his body with his arm, Vincent hissing when the knives burned his flesh and little smoke pockets emerging from his entry wounds under his suit. 

 

His eyes did a quick sweep of the room, finally spotting the wall-embedded speakers that he bought for the human girl and the guy in green who was protecting a music player. His ears were ringing to the point that it was almost deafening. With his jaws tightened, he stabbed his scythe-like nails into his own ears, no doubt piercing his eardrum and something else that had a crapton of nerve receptors but it was a mercy compared to whatever dark video game music was forced down his throat. 

 

For Vincent, the whole room fell silent. He would’ve felt relief if not for the sizzling pain on his arm and a few dull aches. He pulled out the knives since they were coated in a specific, toxic poison meant to kill everything that wasn’t human. Next, he took the hatchet that was in his shoulder, pulled that out, and swung that to cut the superficial, burnt layer of his own arm off. He was awfully attached to the use of his arm, but if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t hesitate to amputate it clean off.

 

Vincent looked up in time to block Toby’s incoming hatchet with his own—- which was covered in a mix of Vincent’s and that human girl’s blood(how ironic). Toby launched a kick with his still bleeding leg(from the lasers), which Vincent caught. He easily threw Toby across the room and he landed with a painful thud.

 

Now, Vincent has been fighting while starving and he is steadily growing more pissed as this fight continues. There was tension growing in his temples and he was also getting more tired from damage inflicted by the weapons that those humans really weren't supposed to have access to. But he’ll be damned if he's going to lose to some narcissist idiots who thought they could intrude in his home and touch things that weren’t theirs. 

 

With one of his hands bloody from Toby’s leg, he brought it up to lick one broad stripe from the palm to the tips of his fingers. Pure glee split his face at the smooth smooth sweetness that he, honest to god, hadn't tasted before. The sweetness wasn’t anything ground-shattering but how it felt weighted on his tongue made the blood almost addictive. It was almost creamy! 

 

His eyes watched as Toby got up from the ground. Vincent wasn’t stupid enough to keep someone with such high combat prowess as a pet, but he’ll savor the moment when he sucks every drop of blood dry.

 

He felt a primitive urge to hunt Toby. And not going to lie, his hunger kinda took control, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to miss a deranged killer who trespassed on his own property. Vincent guessed that something in his face had changed because Toby stared back. But he soon understood because as a response Toby’s eyes widened with his shit-eating grin stretching ear to ear. He bent his knees and arched his back forward with his only remaining hatchet raised—- a silent and stupid threat

Notes:

lol, I'm kinda imagining Ben playing his own signature song "Song of Unhealing" to torture Vincent with.

Not gonna lie to you, I was strongly debating on adding Puppeteer to the mix. Part for his strings for easier capturing activities and I like how Puppeteer has an ability to sense depression. Maybe he’ll make a guest appearance in the future.

But like--- I already have scenario planned for the established ships soooo(teehee).

Chapter 6: Contract

Now, none of the creepypasta can say they had a vampire fetish—- mostly for the fact that most of them didn’t believe those creatures existed. But there was definitely adrenaline pumping when Vincent looked at them with his fangs peeking from his mouth and his eyes glowing in an electrifying red that made you want to look at nothing else. It was one thing to be tense and brace for a fight. But they also couldn’t ignore how the unnaturally handsome face morphing itself into a monster; it was captivating.

It didn’t help that Vincent showed up in his crisp business suit. When his sturdy dressing shoes landed with a soft splash and dignified tap or when the lights shone off his accessories that just screamed wealth. With his hair intentionally styled to frame his head and metal cufflinks leading to a pair of muscular, wide hands. And the collar of his shirt was undone to reveal a defined neck and it was tailored perfectly to showcase his chest.

God, when he teleported himself behind Masky. It was so close and intimate—- maybe because Vincent didn’t want to miss. But it gave all of them a perfect view to see how much taller the vampire was among the group of humans, climbing a few inches over Hoodie(the tallest proxy).

Everyone knew that Vincent would be good at fighting if Masky and Toby’s injuries weren’t proof enough. But they felt something else other than triumph when Vincent doubled over in pain from the speakers. It was the same feeling when Jack extracted a fresh kidney from a hyperventilating victim. Oh, right, that’s sadism.

They saw the purpose of their newly acquired weapons by seeing Vincent’s flesh burn in real time. The smoke reminded them of incense, the kind to ward off evil spirits. But when Vincent destroyed his own ears and sliced off parts of his arm, there was only one thought going through Hoodie's head: Oh, he’s insane, too.

And Toby could almost laugh in excitement when Vincent stared at him with such devotion. God, to see Vincent look at him with his eyes focused solely on him with his mouth slightly gaping with the tiniest drops of drool slipping from his mouth. It made him feel wanted, needed as much as air. And Toby knows Vincent absolutely desires both his blood and death simultaneously. He doesn’t think he’s seen anything hotter.

“Ca-Come on! You wa-want t-to taste more a-of me, right!? Come at ma-me!” Toby yelled, his cheeks turning to a deep red. His teeth shattered together as a shiver rattled through his entire body. His arms did a wide sweeping motion, welcoming Vincent to come closer.

“Toby!” Masky hissed. Toby bent down to raise his pant leg, using his hatchet to make a bigger gash. Masky quickly ran over to Toby to cover his vulnerable position. The white and black masked guy glared at the vampire behind his mask, kinda jealous how the vampire’s eyes were pinned on Toby. But Vincent’s attention was very much warranted because Toby had smudged his blood all over his hand to show the vampire like a prize.

“S-see! I have pa-plenty more wha-where that ca-came from!” Toby cheered. He brought down his mouthguard to lick at his hand, mimicking Vincent. “And I-I ta-taste amazing!”

“You’re going to pass out from blood loss!” Masky warned, his back to Toby to keep his eyes on the threat. Toby ignored him, too busy giggling.

Vincent could only be baited for so long before he fell for it. He couldn’t hear a single word but if someone was intentionally embracing their weak points and advertising their mortality, who was he not to take it. He took a slow breath, feeling his mind narrowing and all logic escaping him. All he could focus on was the empty feeling between his teeth and needing a piece of bloody flesh to get rid of the thirst.

Vincent threw his hatchet, deliberately letting it wedge in a wall behind Toby. Then he teleported himself to the hatchet, grabbing it for leverage to wrap his legs around Masky, hooking the human’s neck underneath his calf, and slamming him to the ground. He was about to reach for Toby until an arrow shot him in the leg, causing him to yell and stumble forward.

Jack tackled him, bolting Vincent to the wall by using his only remaining knife and stabbing it between the bones of Vincent’s arm. While using his knees to weigh the vampire down, Jack quickly tugged the arrow sticking from Vincent’s thigh before taking Vincent’s other free hand and sticking the arrow through the palm of that one— effectively pinning both arms to the wall.

Vincent had instinctively shut his eyes due to the pain. But once he opened them, he stared at the blue mask with cutout eyes that was unnervingly studying his face. Behind him at the other end of the room was Hoodie, who was aiming his reloaded crossbow with an arrow (identical to the one that was sticking out of Vincent’s hand) pointing at Vincent’s head.

“Think he’ll cooperate now?” Ben wondered. He had turned off his music a long time ago, around the same time Vincent pulled his ear-stabbing stunt. He steadily approached the panting vampire out of curiosity. Ben thought vampires didn’t need to breathe. Was it simply a defense or a coping mechanism?

Hoodie didn’t answer as he kept himself a safe distance away with his crossbow still in his armky was groaning, trying to overcome the dizzy spell after the vampire had manhandled him yet again. Toby was watching the vampire with child-like enthusiasm, focusing on the vampire’s pained expression.

“Check his pockets,” Masky said. Jack obeyed considering he was the one who was still in physical contact with their victim. He lifted the fabric of Vincent’s suit jacket to reveal a pocket square, his new phone, and a thin card wallet that was immediately passed to Toby. The vampire was catching his breath and trying his hardest not to move, not wanting to irritate the wounds on his arms. If he was honest with himself, he was surprised he wasn’t dead yet. He was captured and defeated, both things naturally leading to one’s death.

Once Jack was finished rummaging through Vincent’s belongings, he took out one of his scalpels which made the vampire grunt(something Jack felt from being on top of him). In one smooth motion, Jack cut the layers of the suit vest and buttoned up, exposing smooth skin and tight muscle. Jack ignored the picture-worthy pecs and abs and opted to silently start groping the vampire’s sides like he was searching for something.

“What are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re searching for his kidneys,” Ben asked and Jack didn’t answer, “Dude, don’t do that. You’ll probably give yourself rabies.”

“Ya-you can’t e-eat him!” Toby interjected.

“Hold on, I’m trying to find it first,” Jack replied, still feeling the soft squishy of a kidney. When that didn’t work, he moved more broadly to at least find a stomach or something. But he couldn’t find anything. It was like the body was completely solid.

Perplexed, Jack stabbed Vincent right below the metaphorical ribs. He had to manhandle the scalpel since the muscles added extra resistance. But Toby pulled Jack off of Vincent before the kidney-eater could do more damage. Jack fell on his ass with his bloody scalpels still in his hand. He grumbled as he got up, Masky taking the opportunity to gain Vincent’s attention.

“Does your saliva have any effect on us?” Masky asked Vincent. The vampire didn’t pay attention because he couldn’t tell Masky was talking to him with his face covered. Annoyed, Masky moved his mask to rest on the top of his head. Vincent didn’t seem impressed to see his face. Whatever, fucker. He tried again, “Your saliva.”

Vincent stared but chose not to answer. Masky pursed his lips, not liking the disobedience. He pulls out his knife and proceeds to stab Vincent in the mouth, the vampire’s teeth clattering and his head knocking back hard against the wall. Vincent gagged, opening his mouth wider to shield his tongue.

Masky pulled the knife out, the weapon now coated in equal parts blood and saliva. He stared at it before dragging two fingers alongside the blade before brought it to his mouth. He didn't seem to mind the sharp taste of blood, briefly noting it tasted strangely like normal human blood. But his eyes started to lose focus with his eyelids flickering, his body swaying to the side before he repositioned his legs.

“Does it work?” Hoodie asked.

Masky didn’t answer. Instead, he licks his knife to collect the substance straight from the source. Obscene sucking noises seemed to be the only noise in the room. Vincent watched Masky with narrowed eyes, knowing where this was headed. If only he could predict that they would be hunting him for their selfish gains. He lay his head against the wall, embracing defeat and trying to focus on something other than his aching jaw(hands, arms, legs, side). He wiggled one of his front teeth, displeased with how loose it was.

Masky dropped the clean knife to the ground in favor of grabbing a fistful of Vincent’s hair, dragging his head up so they made eye contact. Masky grinned with his teeth, blood smearing around his lips and cheeks. Vincent glared while Masky’s eyes were also unyielding, almost glistening like he had discovered the miracle drug. He laughed like he was drunk.

“Oh, I’m keeping you,” Masky slurred. This was the moment his knees lost strength, his body folding with his own face crashing into the wall above Vincent.

Hoodie dashed forward to one-handedly holster Masky away from the still-very-dangerous vampire while keeping the crossbow still aimed. He had to awkwardly tug at his partner away when Masky’s hand was stubbornly twisted in his hair, only leaving when hair strands were ripped from Vincent’s head.

Hoodie crept backwards to keep his eyes on Vincent, thinking the vampire could attack while he gently set Masky on the blood covered floor. Masky was barely conscious, mouthing off fake words and clutching hair strands like it was a reward.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jack asked.

“H-he’s ja-just v-very high a-off his a-ass!” Toby giggled, his eyes on Vincent who wasn’t sharing his humor.

“Ben, record him,” Hoodie instructed. Ben pulled out his tablet and turned his camera to Vincent, which was something the supernatural didn’t like. But Ben was giddy, glad to record some proof for the internet. He made sure to get a close-up of the vampire's face, bloody like he had just committed a massacre after his business meeting. When Ben tilted his camera just right, the blood trailing from Vincent’s mouth and ears shone nicely down his chin.

Over the camera, Vincent and Ben made eye contact. This is important because as a supernatural of royal descent, Vincent follows the lineage trend where royalty has a special ability. When he looks straight into someone’s eyes, he can read their thoughts. It sounds simple and completely useless in a battle—- especially if the people he’s fighting wear masks. But it has its perks when working in the human world. It allows him to predict movements and gain knowledge, which he can grab from an oblivious (bare-faced) Ben.

“Disconnect server,” Vincent gasps, trying not to choke on his own blood. The house goes into a manual power outage, both the lights and everything else turning off; including the internet. He knows Ben plans to broadcast whatever footage he has. And if he were dead by now, he wouldn’t care. But seeing how his captors might want to keep him alive, he’s risking his reputation if he’s ever going to recover and go back to work.

“Wha-what th-the hell?” Toby said, repositioning his grip on his hatchets. Hoodie immediately reached for his flashlight and pointed it at Vincent, the vampire winced at the sharp light in the now pitch black room.

“This jackass turned off everything. Like everything, no electricity or na-da. Hold on, I’m trying to override it,” Ben grumbled. Seeing Ben work feverishly on his computer, Vincent figured he was responsible for the disabled severity system. “Who the fuck teaches their house to go into lockdown like that?”

“You do know that now you don’t have control over your own house, right?” Ben asked, glancing up while his fingers still moved on his tablet.

“Doesn’t matter. Now you don’t have access either,” Vincent answered with a snarly grin. The house was powered by his own private satellite. And if Vincent disconnects that connection, then this house is reduced down to its walls and nothing else. And once this protocol is activated, all foreign signals would be terminated by a force field created by the government(Vincent’s connections).

“W-wait, di-didn’t he destroy h-his ho-own ear-ears? Ha-how c-can he hear y-you?” Toby asked. With Toby still wearing his goggles that still had blood smudged over them, he was unsusceptible to Vincent’s all-knowing stare. Vincent knew he was talking, but he didn’t bother to read lips. He did have a brain and could guess what was being said.

“Take off your eye coverings and let’s have a conversation,” Vincent offered, his grin impossibly wider like he was the one with the upper hand. The creepypasta all exchanged uncertain glances. Vincent waited by turning his head to the side and spitting out blood.

With one hand stubbornly on the crossbow, Hoodie pulled down his mask. He frowned at the vampire, not liking the colder air touching his face. It felt like it was too easy to breathe, like the colder air was entering his lungs too quickly.

“What happened to your ears?” Hoodie asked while Toby took off his goggles and Jack his own blue mask. Vincent stared at Jack for a few seconds, mainly at the gouged-out empty eye sockets.

“Keep your mask back on,” Vincent told Jack, ignoring Hoodie. Jack narrowed his eyes, was he being judged by an overgrown mosquito? “I can’t talk to you with or without your mask. I need someone with eyes to read their thoughts.”

That made everyone tense. Nobody took kindly to having their privacy violated. But then again, they were familiar with a tall, white man with a black suit having the same wordless communication. Hoodie gritted his teeth, thinking that if he didn’t let his thoughts wander, he should be fine. This is easier than a book and pen, anyway.

“I want to propose a deal,” Hoodie started when Vincent’s eyes were back on him. Vincent’s amused smile became more hostile as he gave Hoodie a cold stare. “You give us your saliva and we give you blood.”

“Blood?”

“Yes, I think it’ll be something you’ll be interested in. If you don’t agree, then I’ll shoot you in the head.”

“You act like I want your blood.”

“Well, you were definitely interested in Toby’s,” Hoodie answered, which made Toby giggle. Vincent looked over, is that what his name was?

“You think I won’t drink him dry”

“That’s why we’ll monitor how much we give you,” Hoodie said, not knowing how the hell he was going to do that. Put his blood in a baby bottle and feed it to the vampire? Vincent seemed to share his astonishment because he chuckled like he had heard the worst business idea possible. “And I have no problem giving you my blood.”

Vincent had been staring at Hoodie almost unnervingly. But he broke eye contact with a scoff. “You think I’ll want you?”

“I wouldn’t see why you wouldn’t,” Hoodie remarked as he took off one of his gloves with his teeth. With an arrow that was anchored in the crossbow, he used it to slice his hand. A steady line of blood trailed down his arm— something that didn’t go unnoticed by Vincent. The vampire’s legs shifted uncomfortably like he were trying to get away from the new blood. It only made Hoodie take a step closer. “What do you think? Do we have a deal?”

“How long will this last for?” Vincent swallowed, his eyes squinted like it was hard to keep them open. His insides, his mouth, his nose, god even his ears were ringing from how depraved he was. But he wouldn’t be a businessman if he didn’t try to read the (metaphorical) fine print of a contract.

“You act like you have somewhere to be,” Hoodie retorted. It was only by staring at his eyes that the vampire could tell he meant the deal would exist for all of eternity. Time that would surpass one, two, even a million lifetimes. But that shouldn’t be possible. It can’t be possible.

“What are you?” Vincent grunted, not liking to be deceived. He knew Jack wasn’t human from his gray skin and when he had his mask off, Vincent saw abnormally sharp teeth and a black tongue. And Ben had black eyes that cried red tears that didn’t smell like real blood. The other three, at least, seemed like humans with their heartbeats, smell, and active breathing.

“Human,” Hoodie answered. Hoodie tried to keep his thoughts blank but Vincent relived his memory of falling from a tall building that was too high not to claim death. And Vincent caught a glimpse of an intimidating creature that Vincent never seen before. He hoped that it was simply Hoodie’s interpretation because it was looming over whoever’s eyes Vincent was borrowing from. It also wore a black suit and its face was empty like it had a white fabric stretched over it.

Hoodie changed his thoughts, knowing that the damage was irreversible seeing how Vincent was staring at him with anxiety, horror, and pity. Hoodie narrowed his eyes, choosing to flick his wrist so some of his blood sprayed onto Vincent’s face.

“Enough. What do you say,” Hoodie landed one knee so he could get closer to Vincent’s height but also have stability. He extended his wounded hand hovering over Vincent’s face like an invitation while still pointing his loaded crossbow with his other hand. His patience was running thin. It would be nice to use the vampire, but Hoodie’s sure Masky would eventually forgive him if he kills it.

Vincent was silent for a little bit, a bit suffocated from Hoodie’s blood after the human girl’s blood started to crust with her scent mellowing down. And it didn’t help that the blood splattered on his face was falling downwards, running past his nose but nowhere near his mouth. Vincent was finding it hard to keep his dignity to not stick out his tongue and lick his cheek.

“Fine,” Vincent whispered. Hoodie hummed like he was pleased with the answer. He rewarded him by moving his hand closer to Vincent’s mouth. The vampire didn’t have to be told to latch himself onto the offered ration, drinking to fulfill the agreement. Hoodie’s blood had the same smoothness as Toby’s. And for a moment, he was glad they weren’t fully human.