[IC] MONSTORY

[Dead Cruiser]

Trevor was silent again for a moment after hearing Izzy's explanation, but still seemed troubled by it. He carried a strange, perturbed expression as the two continued back down the road. It was a difficult expression to read, especially considering that he kept his face pointing forward, preventing Izzy from getting a good look at him without awkwardly walking around in front of him. Still, from what she could tell, it was something like concern, but not quite. Not really worry or condescension, either. Deep contemplation, if anything.

At last, he spoke up again, "What do you gain from it? Choosing to not have friends? It's really not a decision people ordinarily make."

[Riven Wight]

When they left the building, Izzy gave a sigh of relief as a light June breeze blew over her, the weather mild for the month. As they walked down the road, Trevor quiet in, as far as Izzy could tell, contemplation, she tried to think of an excuse to go on ahead of him, maybe take a detour, but, she had to admit, she was enjoying the conversation. At least, most of it. And she still wanted to deposit her backpack at home, eliminate the weight of a school year’s worth of locker clutter, and they had to go in the same direction for that, anyway. Besides, the road was the quickest way, and the sooner she got home, the sooner she could head out again.
She glanced to him when he spoke, and her expression hardened. She looked ahead of them as she answered. “Sanity,” she said harsher than she had intended to. “Fewer people to stab you in the back, or be broken up about, especially once I’ve left this forsaken city in the dust.”

[Dead Cruiser]

"Sanity, huh?" Trevor echoed Izzy, again falling silent in contemplation for a moment. However, this did not last as long as his previous pause, and he asked again, "Don't you think that's a bit much? Some relationships might turn sour, but far from all. You might be throwing out the baby with the bathwater. And how would you enforce your decision? Avoid people altogether? Turn into a tree or something? It's possible to make friends, even when you don't mean to." His tone was neither pleading nor accusatory; Trevor was perfectly calm, just as he had been for their entire conversation. This calmness made his tone hard to gauge. Why was he arguing with her? What was his angle?

[Riven Wight]

Izzy paused, staring at Trevor with inquisitive suspicion as he continued on a couple paces before she walked after him again.
“Normally,” she said slowly, still a couple steps behind him, “people just back off when I tell them I don’t want friends,” she answered the last couple of his questions. “And up to today, I was doing pretty good with avoiding people. Turning into a tree sounds great, but trust me; it’s harder than it sounds.”
She tapped her thumb against the outside of her pocket, hoping the conversation would turn to something else. She would even take sparkling vampires at the moment. “Why does it matter to you so much?” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she waited for his answer.

[Dead Cruiser]

Trevor continued walking, either not noticing or not caring that Izzy had stopped behind him. He stretched out his arms, folding his hands behind his head. His shirt was a bit drier now, leaving it only a muddy mess instead of being as translucent as before. "A tree..." He mused aloud, seemingly somewhat oblivious, "Maybe not a tree, they're still alive, they live in groves. Maybe a rock. Or a bench." He must have had parks on the mind.

As Izzy caught up, his usual calmness seemed to dip into nonchalance. "Eh, I guess it really doesn't. You're just kind of interesting to talk to. I think I'll go to the library after I get changed. You've made me want to study." The road split off, going another direction into town, and Trevor stopped at the intersection. "I have to go this way. Before that, though, would you mind if I saw your phone for a second? I won't pry, I promise."

[Riven Wight]

Izzy placed her hand to her chin and tapped her cheek in mock contemplation. “Nah,” she said after a short moment, returning her hand to her side. “I’d rather a tree. Too many people use benches, and plenty collect rocks. I’d rather not end up stuck in someone’s pocket or on display collecting dust, thank you very much. Besides, you can still enjoy the sunlight as a tree.” She reached out, letting the sunlight brush the skin of her bare arm and warm the sleeve of the other. "And the birds." She glanced up to the sky, shielding her eyes against the sun with a hand, searching for any birds soaring in the afternoon light.
“Oh, well, thanks.” Izzy gave Trevor a smile. “Right back at you.”
She stopped with him at the intersection. “Study? It’s summer, and you’re going to study?” She raised her eyebrows and looked at him incredulously before he requested to use her phone. “Oh, sure.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. "Wouldn't mind at all." She quickly put in the unlock pattern, then handed it to him.

[Dead Cruiser]

At Izzy's insistence at desiring to be a tree, Trevor merely tilted his head and smiled innocuously. "Suit yourself." Her incredulity at his studying over the summer was met with a playful show of feigned arrogance. "Of course. I don't stay at the top of the class just for wearing glasses."

Finally, as Izzy handed over her phone, Trevor fussed with it for a moment, looking down at it quite intently. Izzy, leaning over to see what he was doing, was brushed off as Trevor turned aside to conceal his activities. "It really is a shame, y'know?" Finished with whatever he was doing, he handed Izzy back her phone. Checking to see what he had done, she soon found that he had programmed his number into her phone. "Seems like you made a friend, despite your best intentions. See ya around, Izzy." And with a wave, he departed down the road.

Hours later...

Night time at the Caldwell residence. A modest home, larger than most, but Izzy's parents made good money and they had three teenage children to house. Despite their home being on the bigger side, it was a difficult house to hide in. Mostly due to the rambunctiousness of the youngest two of the Caldwell siblings, Zach and Blake. Zach had been a firebrand since he could walk, bouncing around the house until their parents could put him in sports. From that point on, it was kickboxing, karate, and every sport that the local middle school allowed him to participate in. As with all of the siblings, he took on their mother's coloration, with a shag of chestnut hair that hung to his shoulders, and green eyes so bright they seemed to glow. Izzy sometimes called him her "colossal little brother," as he already stood two inches taller than her at age 13. Born with a fire in his belly, Zach was a whirlwind of emotion and energy; always jumping, running, yelling, crying, shouting, doing something.

Blake was different. Izzy would tease him when they were younger by calling him her little sister, rather than brother. He was much calmer than his brother, a bit shier, far more sensitive. He liked to dress nicely (nicer than the athletic sweats of his brother), and kept his hair neatly trimmed and carefully combed. This did not make him any less of a hellion. Just as he was more feminine in his temperament, his moods were also not unlike those of a girl around his age. Able to swing from calm, to sorrowful, to outraged and back, he was very unpredictable to gauge. And while he "only" took karate, whenever he got angry (which was often), Blake was much more likely than Zach to become violent.

Naturally, they were both hellraisers at school, especially when together. There was a certain unflattering nickname used for the two of them (usually by the staff of the middle school), the "demon brothers." Luckily, the boys were both infatuated with such comic-book ideals as justice and heroism, likely thanks to their pair of police officer parents. They diverted most of their energy into tracking down bullies and similar small-time evildoers at their school, and beating the snot out of them. If their intentions were any less noble, or if their parents weren't pulling strings to keep them from being arrested, they likely would have been expelled about five times apiece by now.

Unfortunately for Izzy, the hero business was not as tiring for her brothers as she would have hoped, and they had plenty of time to piss off both her and each other while at home. A shouting match had managed to break out after they had eaten dinner, and their parents were working a late shift, thus leaving the boys to feud without interruptions. Izzy laid in her room with her pillow over her head, trying to drown out the noise.

"Blaaaake!" Zach called after his brother from across the house, "Did you use my cup at your karate lesson?"

"Yeah, I couldn't find mine," the younger brother called back, nonchalantly, "Sorry 'bout that. I washed it, though."

"Euurghh! C'mon, dude, you can't do stuff like this!"

"What's the big problem?" Blake was sounding agitated now. "I said I washed it, it shouldn't make a difference!"

"Yeah, but it's gonna bother me! I'm gonna be in a match, and think about it at the critical moment, and then -POW- I'm done for. Breaking my concentration man, not cool! You're gonna kill my MMA career before it even starts!"

"What MMA career?" From the sound of his voice, Blake was leaving whatever he was doing in the living room, and coming up the stairs to Zach's room. "You'll never have a career, you're too afraid of getting punched in the face!"

Zach's door opened. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Like this!" The tell-tale sound of the two kicking the crap out of each other immediately followed; a sound Izzy was tiresomely familiar with.

She groaned, pulling the pillow closer over her own head. This house was a nightmare, she needed to get out to preserve her sanity.

[Riven Wight]

Izzy crossed her arms as she waited for Trevor to make a call. When he took longer to do so than she expected, she leaned to take a look at what he was doing--browsing the internet for something, maybe?--but scowled when he brushed her off.
“What’s a shame?” she asked slowly as she took her phone and thumbed through it to see what he had done as he continued speaking, answering her question. She found his number as he waved farewell. “Oh, you sly fox!” she shouted after him with a laugh. Regardless of her no friend vow, she could not help but smile as she headed toward home, shoving her phone in her pocket with a slight shake of her head.

* * *

With her headphones broken--or was this pair lost? She had lost track--Izzy’s only defense against her brothers was the meager stuffing of the pillow. If she had to choose between a herd of rhinos wearing tutus while doing the cancan on miles of bubble wrap, and her brothers, she would take the rhinos. After all, she could sell the rhinos to the local zoo. But her brothers? She would not wish them on any human, let alone the zoo animals.
With a disgruntled groan, she tossed her pillow to the floor. She had to get out of here before what she said to Trevor about not being a serial killer turned into false-reassurance.
Grumbling under her breath, Izzy sat up, took her phone from the nightstand beside her bed, and shoved it in her pocket. Hurrying to the common chorus of her brothers putting their sports training to the boys’ best version of good use, she grabbed a flashlight from her dresser, collected her walking stick from where she had leaned it against the wall after her usual hike earlier in the day, and all but ran downstairs to the front door, not bothering to leave a note or explain where she had gone. Not that she expected Zach or Blake to notice her absence, anyway.
With the door confining the cloud of pandemonium that always followed her brothers to the house, the relative quiet of the neighborhood greeted her welcomingly. It was a wondrously mild night. Laughter floated down the street from a few doors down where a small crowd sat out on a porch, enjoying the summer’s eve.
Izzy took a deep breath and began walking down the street, the rubber tip of her walking stick padding against the concrete a step ahead of her. Despite the vacation, with the artificial glow of the streetlamps marking the time for most youngsters to be indoors, the streets were mostly deserted save for a few people on porches. None of them payed Izzy any attention as she passed.
Maybe everyone’s indoors because of the vampire, she thought with a smirk.
As she went, the houses grew slightly further apart, her feet knowing the path she would take all too well.
Soon, she made it to her destination. A park with a wooded backdrop and a spattering of trees and shrubs around its manicured lawn sat before her. It was set far enough from the road that the golden light of the streetlamps did not fully reach it, ascertaining it would be emptied by dark. The utter quietness of the area was music to Izzy’s ears.
Holding her flashlight at the ready, just in case, she strode confidently toward a playground, its equipment dark lumps in the night. At the edge of the sandy lot that marked the playground, she paused, waiting to see if the light of the moon would be sufficient enough once her eyes adjusted. To her delight, it was.
She attached the flashlight to a loop in her belt, and strolled across the sand of the playground toward the metal merry-go-round. She stopped by a backhoe digger nearby, rubbed one of the wings of the owl carved into the knotted top of her walking stick, then leaned it against the equipment.
At the merry-go-round, Izzy got it spinning, then hopped on. She leaned back into the open middle, her legs hanging over the side, and stared up at the stars and waxing moon as they swirled around slowly. Each rotation, the merry-go-round let out a gentle squeal, slicing through the silence of the night until it slowed, turning it into more of a quick thump-thump, like a rhythmic metallic heartbeat.

[Dead Cruiser]

"Please..."

An ominous sound, like a human voice, drifted uneasily across the darkened playground. Startled, Izzy stopped the roundabout at once, sending it to a skidding halt by dragging her heel on the ground. For a moment she waited, pensive, wondering what she had heard. Was it the groaning of the metal roundabout? The wind? Perhaps a strange noise made by a passing car? Izzy swallowed, a cool sweat beginning to bead on her head as she continued to listen. Though she stayed perfectly still, her eyes frantically searched around her, looking for anything that could have made such a sound nearby.

"Please..."

Izzy jumped. There it was again. A human voice, unmistakable. She reached quickly for her walking stick, and for the flashlight at her belt. Her head whipped around, looking for the source of the voice, before realizing that she could barely seen anything this time of night. She flipped on her flashlight, shining it around in search of the phantom she had heard.

"Help me..."

The voice called out again, and Izzy was able to trace where it had come from. Though she was more than a little hesitant, she didn't think that whoever was calling out was a threat to her. The voice, arguably a man's though it was hard to tell, genuinely sounded like it was in pain. As much as it had alarmed her, she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she was the last hope of someone who was grievously sick or injured.

Slowly, cautiously, she followed the voice. Izzy took only small steps, very careful of where she walked, keeping the beam of her flashlight always out in front of her. She didn't hear the voice again after that, but continued in the direction from which she had heard it. She stepped through bushes and into the small grove of trees surrounding the park. Those soon thinned, and she was in the weedy, uncut grass that surrounded the landscaped area. A familiar, tangy sort of smell that she couldn't quite place. That was, until she shined her flashlight down at her feet. Blood. An incredible amount of blood, soaking the ground in a great, red smear in the direction Izzy was walking. She swallowed hard and picked up her pace.

Finally, she spotted a disturbance in the grass up ahead. She crept forward, shining her flashlight at the mass on the ground that could have been a body. She thought it was shivering at first, but then realized that her hand holding the light was shaking. As she came within yards of the thing, it became clear that the shape was a man. Caucasian, tall, blond, perhaps he was handsome if his face was not streaked with blood and contorted with pain. She looked to his clothes, and saw that he was wearing a sharp, dark grey suit. Or, it was a suit at one point; it more closely resembled a bloody rag at that point. Looking closer, Izzy saw something distinctly wrong with the man's silhouette. His limbs were gone. His right arm, from about the elbow down was torn off. His left had been neatly cut at the shoulder. Both of his legs had been savagely ripped away as well.

The man's head rolled to face Izzy, and she yelped with the breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. At least he was alive; if he was breathing, Izzy could barely notice. His eyes opened, their golden irises reflecting the light of Izzy's flashlight back at her.

"Please..." He moaned, blood pouring out from between his lips. "I don't want to die."

[Riven Wight]

Izzy gave a choked scream and stumbled back, tripping on her own feet when the man looked to her, impossibly alive. Her flashlight and walking stick fell to the ground beside her. From the ground, the beam of the light reflected in the man’s golden eyes. Which had to be a trick of the light. But there were far more important aspects to be worried about.
“H-hold on,” she choked out, kneeling on the grass. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone with a shaking hand. “Focus on me,” she breathed. “What’s your name? What happened?” She turned her attention to the phone, glad to look away from him. She put in “911,” and hit dial. “I-I’m calling for help. Just hold on.”

[Dead Cruiser]

"No!" The dying man barked, with a sudden volume and forcefulness that he seemed like he shouldn't have had. Another spurt of blood forced its way out of his mouth, further soiling his ruined suit. His head, which shot up for that outburst, fell back to the ground, though he still stared at Izzy intently. "No ambulance..." His energy was flagging fast, and he staying conscious seemed to be a labor for him. "I need... I need..." He was muttering to himself now, eyes closed, head lolling in the grass.

"BLOOD!" His head jumped up again, eyes locked onto Izzy. She looked into is golden eyes, and saw that not only did they seem to reflect the shine of her flashlight, they appeared to glow with a light all their own. That was when she noticed his teeth. Four fangs, each over an inch long, protruded from where his eye teeth should be. Whoever this guy was, it seemed that he wasn't human.

[Riven Wight]

Izzy jumped at the man’s loud opposition. She blinked at him, unsure of what to say and not paying attention to whether or not her call had gone through already. “You need an ambulance!” she tried to finish for him, before his last exclamation.
Did he really just say... Her eyes locked with his, a light emanating from them competing with her flashlight. She sucked in a breath as she got a better look at his entire face, and his inhuman fangs.
She startled back with a gasp. She dropped her phone and grabbed her walking stick with both hands, brandishing it in front of her like a weapon.
Think logically, Izzy! she scolded herself, gripping her stick tightly nonetheless. Veneers. He’s gotta be a psycho wearing fake fangs and some sort of freaky contacts.
“Th-there’s plenty of that at a hospital,” she said breathlessly, slowly bending down and reaching for her phone. Psychotic or not, he was hurt. Bad. She looked away from him only to glance to the device before grabbing it. “They can get you patched up there.”

[Dead Cruiser]

The man, if that's what he was, groaned his displeasure at Izzy's insistence. "Stupid girl," he muttered, his anger apparently giving him some lucidity, "Hospital won't help... Don't have a pulse." He struggled a bit on the ground, actually managing to writhe about a foot closer to Izzy, mostly pushing himself with what little remained of his right arm. It was apparent now that the huge trail of blood had come from him dragging himself along the ground with only half a limb. His strength quickly ran out, though, and he collapsed back on the ground.

He looked up at Izzy, who was waving her walking stick threateningly. As though he posed a threat to her, no limbs and barely able to move. His gaze was intense, but his expression was somewhere between anger and trepidation. "It would be an honor..." The tone of his voice had softened a bit. Not much, but it was clear. "To be of my flesh and blood."

[Riven Wight]

Izzy stopped, phone in hand, its white light shining on the ground for a couple seconds before fading. No pulse? She paused, the description Trevor had given her of the acclaimed vampire coming to mind. Though only the blond hair applied at the moment, it was clear enough the dismembered stub-of-a-man was inhuman. No human could survive being little more than a bloody stump, let alone drag themselves far enough to be found.
Holding the walking stick with one hand more for support in her crouched position with one knee on the ground, she met his gaze, her own eyes wide in shock and horror.
“What are you?” she asked, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper. She waited with bated breath for the answer she suspected he would give, her knuckles turning white with how tightly she gripped her walking stick. If he lived long enough to say it, that was.

[Dead Cruiser]

The man looked at Izzy, who had crouched next to him, and for a moment gave her a slow, terrifying smile. Despite the thick film of his own blood covering them, his fangs glittered in the illumination of the flashlight. His blond hair, matted and filthy as it was, seemed to shimmer ethereally. His golden eyes glittered and shined, like those of a predatory beast of night. The light cast on him, it was now clear, seemed to pass right through him. It shined behind him as though it had not been interrupted by his form. The man did not cast a shadow.

"My name..." He began, mustering his strength to speak, "Is Cerasus Orion Damocles. I am the hot-blooded, cold-blooded, iron-blooded vampire."

[Riven Wight]

The smile he gave her made Izzy’s blood run cold. She glanced behind him, at the trail of blood shimmering in the soft light of her flashlight, the beam unhindered by the man’s form. How had she not noticed his lack of shadow before?
Her attention turned in full back to him as he spoke. Even expecting it, Izzy gawked at him. She let her phone fall back to the ground and ran a hand through the portion of her hair that hung loose around her face. She was staring at a real, flesh-and-blood vampire. Or, what was left of him, anyway.
A new thought struck her. Vampires were supposed to be one of the strongest, fastest creatures, right? But something had torn this one limb-from-limb, which meant there was still something else out there, something that could still be lurking in the shadows. Izzy’s heart skipped a couple beats and she looked suddenly toward the darkness pooling around the protective barrier of her flashlight. From the stories she had read, werewolves were the mortal enemies of vampires. Could one of them be out there somewhere?
“What... what happened to you?" She looked back to him. "What did this?"

[Dead Cruiser]

The man, the vampire, the thing that called itself Cerasus Orion Damocles... was at the end of his rope. His smile vanished, and the look of agony that he had been displaying beforehand returned. Clearly, it was taking all of his effort to stay conscious, and even then his strength was running out. His brow furrowed, meeting Izzy's questions with a look of utter annoyance.

"Doesn't matter." He shut her off quite bluntly. "Blood... Give it to me. Now."

[Riven Wight]

Izzy took a deep breath. She needed to know if there was something still out there, something that could be a danger to her family. If it killed someone else, her parents would be a couple of the first people on the scene, which could put them in danger. And as annoying as her brothers were, she did not want to see them get hurt, either.
She wanted answers. He wanted blood.
“Tell me what did this,” she swallowed, her voice shaking slightly as she continued. “and you’ll get what you want.” Determination settled in her eyes and dusted her face. “It doesn’t look like you have long. Better decide quick.”

[Dead Cruiser]

The vampire snarled again. His patience had run out, and he was supremely tired of dealing with this whelp that had discovered him. Even so, she had him cornered, and he knew it. Despite it costing him nothing, he struggled with the idea of submitting to her demands. His pride simply wouldn't allow him to be in such a position of subservience to a human. Cerasus' face contorted with a mixture of pain and anger as he deliberated his actions.

He eventually gave in, though, his face still twisted with rage. "Insolent girl... Vampire hunters... What else?" He struggled to lift his head again, a much more difficult task than before. "Blood... Now... Please..." His eyes were glazing over, it was clear he didn't have much time or strength left.

[Riven Wight]

Izzy held her breath when Cerasus snarled, resisting the urge to back away. The anger on his face made any pity she had for him cower away. When he finally told her what had torn him apart, she nearly gave a sigh of relief. No one else would be in danger from vampire hunters, as far as she knew.
She took a deep breath when he asked for his part of the bargain, and nodded stiffly. Though she dreaded the thought of his fangs sinking into her skin, a deal was a deal. Unsure of what else to do, she sat her walking stick on the ground and quickly rolled up the sleeve of her scarred arm. Though she doubted it would do much with his limbs missing, at least she might be capable of easing the agony he indubitably felt in payment for his answer.
“Only because you said ‘please,’” she said in a meager attempt at calming her nerves as she moved closer. With her hand clenched into a fist, she placed her arm before him.