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Dark red eyes shot open in a dark room, what little sunlight that snuck in through heavy curtains glinted of a pair of white fangs; Ivan Weston awoke from sleep with a hunger that made his throat burn. He was having the dreams again, the ones that felt like they were pushing him toward madness. He couldn’t call them nightmares because in all honest, he enjoyed them. Dreams that were vivid memories of his past kills, and tonight’s was no different; this memory of an entire family he’d slaughtered while his humanity was turned off, the euphoria gorging on blood used to bring him. It made him wanted to give up control, either through turning that humanity off once again for good, or even just through drinking blood until he didn’t care about anything else. Every time he slept he wake up and have to fight to keep control, to remind himself why he couldn’t just let go.

Ivan rose from the lumpy and stiff mattress inside his room of the Vertigo Motel, his feet felt the uncomfortable tickle of the dark green shag carpet. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights, he could see just fine in the almost darkness and he didn’t have it in him to look at that hideous wallpaper, a cross between a psychedelic trip gone wrong and what it would look like if a rainbow could vomit, in the light of day. As unappealing as the Vertigo was aesthetically it was cheap and the owners were decent people who didn’t bother him too much. Ivan grabbed the one glass in the room as well as a bottle of whiskey from the end table and a bag of human blood from the mini fridge. He poured himself a drink that was two parts whiskey and one part blood and allowed the mixture to quench his thirst. He drank it slowly, focusing on calming himself down, controlling himself. He headed to the small bathroom within the room and washed his face with cold water, setting his drink down on the sink, and starring at his reflection. He tried to focus, tried to see whatever it was in him that she had seen within him that made him worthy of a second chance. He figured if he tried enough he would eventually see a better man looking back at him in that mirror, but today, just like every day, he saw the man that was just one moment of weakness away from causing a massacre. 

Although he had slept for almost two hours, more than enough for a vampire, he was still so tired. His sleep, when he got any and it had been almost a week since he had, was restless. His dreams scared him, and every time he did sleep he either dreamed of his kills or even worse he dreamt that she was still around. For some people the initial loss of a loved one is the most painful thing imaginable, for Ivan there was something worse. There were the nights he dreamt of Amelia, his lost love, still alive and then waking up in that haze after a beautiful dream. Then there was living in those few seconds where he wasn’t sure if the dream was real or not, followed by the realization that it was just a dream. It was losing a person all over again, having hope snatched away, it was his own mind betraying him. 

He finished off the remains of his drink, showered, and dressed himself in a dark jacket, black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He made himself another drink, this one a bit more whiskey heavy, before the remaining bagged blood was placed back into the mini fridge. The whiskey helped with the thirst, it helped keep him calm, and it look a lot more alcohol to get a vampire drunk so watering down his blood with booze was Ivan’s current drug of choice. He rinsed the glass off in the bathroom sink and set it back by the nearly empty whiskey bottle by the bed. The room was cluttered with undone laundry, empty bottles, and a small trash can with empty blood bags inside. He needed to buy more whiskey and eventually he would need to do laundry but the latter would likely be put off until absolutely necessary. 

Before he left the room, he made sure to hand the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on his door, he knew it was likely driving Mrs. Harrison crazy not being able to clean the room every day but he certainly couldn’t have humans poking around and finding blood bags in the fridge. He never ate with them, he couldn’t really stomach human food, some vampires could but he hadn’t eaten it in centuries and lost any taste for it long ago. He did stop to chat with Mr. Harrison, a man who kept insisting that Ivan call him Jimmy instead, about old western movies. The conversation seemed to please Jimmy who kept commenting on how most kids these days never appreciated the classics. It amused Ivan some to be referred to as a kid by a man who was likely a hundred year his junior. The first thing he did when he got outside was light up a cigarette, it had always brought him that small window of peace, ever since he shared his first cigarette with his father as a mortal boy. It was getting harder to find them unfiltered, vampires certainly weren’t worried about getting cancer, so he rolled his own now. He found it incredibly annoying that he couldn’t smoke indoors anymore, people these days were too sensitive. 

Ivan had spent the past few days acclimating himself to the city of Erehwon, or Nowhere as supernaturals tended to call it. Nowhere was a fitting name; it was quaint, people were unnaturally friendly, and worst of all it was boring. For the past century, he’d spent his time in major cities; Chicago, Los Angeles, New York, and Dallas, cities where there was always something exciting going on. The nightlife of this town seemed to consist of a barn called The Shack, he got a job here as it was the closest thing to fun this town had. He hadn’t made up his mind yet, whether or not he was here for a fresh start or to place himself in some sort of purgatory. Today was apparently the Fall Festival, something every person in the town seemed to be excited for, in fact he was pretty sure there was more talk about the night’s festivities than there was about the series of murders happening around the town. 

The murders sounded like vampire attacks, so at first he thought of it as something to avoid. Being around other vampires brought out the more animalistic side of Ivan, he was too easily influenced by others, something he was well aware of, so staying away from any vampires actively killing around town was a must. Not to mention with it being so obviously supernatural, hunters would flock to the town to investigate and he didn’t feel like crossing paths with hunters either. Stay out of trouble, try and keep hold of his humanity, and learn to live like a person; that was the plan. On the other hand, if it was vampire’s maybe he could see if he could help stop them, find something useful to do with his time, maybe this was the right kind of trouble. If they could put a stop to this before any hunters came to town that would certainly be in his best interest, and stopping a murderous vampire would be easy on his heavy conscious as well. 

Shortly after Amelia had died he’d tried to channel his grief and anger into hunting down his sire, Marius, the vampire who had turned him almost a hundred and sixty years ago. He spent months looking for the ancient vampire, he’d convinced himself that he’d find some kind of closer through an epic quest for vengeance, he’d clearly watched too many modern action films, only to find the vampire had been slain over a century ago. Back when he was busy tearing through every neck he could sink his teeth into some Guardians had taken the old psycho out. It made sense of course, Marius was vicious with no regard for other supernatural or whether or not he was risking exposure, turning as many and as often as he wanted, not covering his tracks. It had been foolish to think that he’d still be out there somewhere, and even stupid to believe that killing one vampire would solve his problems. There was no cinematic arch of redemption through vengeance for him, only the mundane every day struggle of trying to better than he was, all while knowing there would be no absolution for the things he’d done, he’d have to deal with his past by learning from it and by doing better. 

Later that night he had a shift at The Shack during the costume party but he figured he’d check out the fall festival before that, try and enjoy himself a little bit, it was the human thing to do after all but before all that he thought he might poke around the police station, see if there was anything he could do to help. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to convince a mundane police department that he could potentially be helpful in tracking down the person responsible for multiple homicides, but since planning was never his strong suite he was just going to wing it and see what happened.

Upon arrival at the police station he wondered around the front for a bit the way a customer would wander a store. “Can I help you?” A slightly confused man at the front desk asked. Ivan paused for a bit before responding, he couldn’t exactly go with ‘Hi I’m a 158-year-old vampire looking to help you track down whatever supernatural, and probably more specifically vampire, you have murdering campers and folks just outside town’.

Instead he went with, [color=red]“Yes, I was just wondering how the investigation was going, any leads on the Roxbury murders or those missing campers?”[/color]

“Are you with the Report because we already gave you our statement.” The guy responded, thinking Ivan was with the town newspaper. 


[color=red]“No, more of an independent investigation.”[/color]

“Like a blog or podcast, you’re not one of those true crime nuts, are you?” He asked annoyed. 

[color=red]I don’t think so.[/color]

“You wanna tell me why you’re here then?”

[color=red]"I think I can help you with solve the case,"[/color] Ivan paused, trying to think of a reason why he’d be able to help. [color=red]"Because I’m psychic, I was thinking I could get a vision from any evidence you might have or…”[/color] Ivan went to plot of a tv show he’d seen once but was cut off by the man’s exasperated sigh. The guy behind the desk did not seem to be buying it one bit.