Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Visiting an Old Friend

The human maid looked at the state of the penthouse in abject horror. Between the broken furniture, torn up shades, and large puddle of blood on the floor, she must’ve had quite a lot of questions and a few possible answers already floating around in her head.

A simple “What happened?” was the only thing she could manage to essay.

Enid had requested the concierge for a maid who could keep quiet about what she saw and not ask questions but Valen guessed there were limits for everything.

Louise was the first to answer.

“Bloodplay,” she said plainly, as if that explained anything.

“...What?” asked the maid again, even more confused.

“Bloodplay,” Louise repeated. “It’s a sex thing. We had a threesome and whips were involved. Also a few knives.”

The fear on the maid’s face turned to a different kind of horror and she hid her reddening cheeks behind her braids.

“The less you know about it the better,” said Valen before Louise could go into further detail about something that didn’t happen. It wasn’t the kind of excuse he would’ve liked attached to him, but at least it was one that kept her from asking any more questions. “Trust me.”

“Yeah.” A playful grin spread on Louise’s face as she made a show of smacking Enid’s arse. “This one was the bottom.”

Enid gave Louise a hard punch on the shoulder that she gladly took it without issue. Prodigy or not, a mage could only be so strong compared to a werewolf.

“We’re going out.” Enid reached into her coat and took out five hundred-draco bills from her wallet which she handed to the flustered maid. “You keep this on the down low, yeah?”

“Of course!”

The maid pocketed the money and immediately got to work cleaning up the blood from the carpet before it could completely dry.

“Alright then.” Enid’s car keys jingled in her hands and turned to Valen. “How are you feeling, Valen? Ready to go yet?”

“Yeah, I’ve felt worse.” His eyes drifted to the maid struggling to scrub the Unborn God’s blood from the carpet. Since it ejected itself from his body, the squirming blood inside him had finally stilled and he found himself much less tired than before. “I’m fairly certain I don’t have the Unborn God inside me anymore. Most of it must’ve left when it thought I was about to burn up.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Enid.

Louise still seemed worried. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until nightfall though?”

“The longer we let this go on the higher the chances that things will get worse,” said Valen. “I won’t like it, but a little time in the trunk won’t hurt me.”

Louise shuddered in sympathy at the thought of being crammed in such a tiny space. “You’re braver than I am, mate.”

“We’ll let you out once we get to the Nocturnal District,” said Enid. “Until then you’ll just have to hide from the sun there.”

In theory, Valen should be fine staying in the car now. Only vampires who were starved of blood or lived solely off synthetic substitutes burned in the sunlight. Valen had been one of the latter for a long time until he drank Louise’s blood.

The three of them went to the indoor garage where Enid’s car was parked and after taking a deep breath, Valen climbed into the trunk of the car. Being on the tall side, he probably wouldn’t have fit in there had the car not been the luxury behemoth that it was. As it is he was just barely able to cram himself inside, though he found himself having to bend his long legs to do so. He tried not to think about the amount of ironing he’d have to do to get the creases out of his coat later.

“Be sure to call us on our phone if you have an emergency,” said Louise.

“Here.” Enid handed him a plastic bottle as he laid curled up in the trunk.

Valen gave her a puzzled look. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“In case you need to take a wee while in there,” she said plainly.

Valen felt his face flush red in embarrassment.

Louise simply stared at the empty bottle.

“Yeah, that’s not going to work,” she said. “No way his knob’s gonna fit in that hole.”

Enid raised an eyebrow. “How would you know that?”

Valen reached out and slammed the trunk of the car shut himself before he would have to witness the rest of the conversation. He breathed a sigh of relief, they both took that as a cue to drop the topic and get into the car.

The ride was a bumpy one, but tolerable compared to getting burnt alive. He thought back to the stories his sister Vivian used to tell him. Stories of his people and those who hunted them.

The first vampires, warriors resurrected from the dead by the goddess of death for the First Divine War, were feared by foes and allies alike during the war and outright persecuted after the war ended along with the Age of Gods. Even those who had fought beside them turned their swords on the vampires and hunted them down to near extinction. The fanatics among them even tried to make a show of it.

Crucifixion was one of the earliest methods. A vampire would be nailed to a cross and planted somewhere that faced the sun. Depending on how well-fed the vampire was when the execution was carried out, it could take days or even weeks before the poor vampire was starved enough for the sun to have an effect.

When that execution method proved too troublesome due to the vampires’ tendency to escape, they resorted to burying them alive in a chained coffin instead. Bastards even had the audacity to treat it as an actual funeral in the to-be-executed vampire’s honour. There were probably thousands of buried coffins filled with vampire dust out there, forgotten by time and history.

Cramped, sore, and unable to see the outside world, Valen thought about how much worse his buried ancestors must’ve felt. People still hated vampires today for even less of a valid reason. Modern vampires were born the way they were yet there are zealots who still believe that they should be returned to the dirt just because their ancestors managed to cheat death. It was no surprise that the origins of most vampire holidays could be summed up with the phrase “They tried to kill us. They failed. Let’s celebrate!”

But as unpleasant as the history of his people may be, thinking about it gave Valen some hope for the future. If they could survive all that, then there should be no reason why he couldn’t cope with what faced him now.

After about half an hour of browsing pictures of dogs on his phone, Valen finally felt the car slow down to a stop at the side of the road.

A moment later the trunk opened to reveal Louise standing outside backdropped by the Nocturnal District’s dark glass dome blotting out the sky.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” she said with a grin and offered her hand.

“Ah, thanks for clarifying.” Valen took her hand with a smile. “I thought I went to heaven for a second there.”

Louise raised an eyebrow. “Why would you be in heaven?”

Valen pulled himself out of the trunk. “Because I’m looking at an angel.”

Louise’s white face flushed red before giving him a light punch to the shoulder. “Save it for the bedroom, yeah?”

They got back into the car, Louise sitting in the backseat and Valen riding shotgun.

“You’re going to have to give me directions now, Snowball,” said Enid. “I don’t exactly know my way around here.”

“I got it, I got it.” Louise leaned forward between the two front seats. “Just follow my lead and we’ll be kicking Byron’s arse before you know it.”

Enid followed Louise’s directions to a tee, driving quickly past noisy Reveller’s Row and into a quiet cul-de-sac that seemed much less run down than most of the Nocturnal District. For one, the buildings were under a century old and there wasn’t a drunk or homeless person to be seen anywhere.

“It seems a bit empty here,” said Enid, looking out at the empty streets.

“It’s morning,” said Louise. “Most Nocturnal District natives are either asleep or in their homes around this time. To us, this is night time.”

“What difference does it make when it’s always dark out?”

“Speaking from experience,” said Valen, “The tourists who come here during the day tend to be much worse.”

“Knowing that they can escape into daylight outside makes them feel safer,” said Louise. “Makes them more willing to pick fights with locals knowing they can’t follow them outside.”

Valen nodded in agreement. “Not to mention most of them are day drinkers who came to drink somewhere they won’t be judged. We still judge them when we see them.”

Louise pointed at a small beige and white house in the distance that was practically a mansion by Nocturnal District standards. It was the picture of suburbia, or would be if it didn’t have the unfortunate distinction of being the house of a prick in the most miserable part of the city.

“There,” she said. “That’s Timmy-I mean, Byron’s place.”

“Alright,” said Enid, slowing down her car. “How do we do this? Just knock on his door? Break in?”

“Let’s try not to break too many laws.” Valen turned to Louise. “Louise, are you okay with knocking on his door alone?”

“Why me?” she asked.

“He knows you. Probably still has a crush on you too. He’s likely to open the door if he sees you through his peephole alone. Once he does, keep it open until Enid and I can join you. We’ll be parked nearby.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” said Enid.

“Only if you feel safe about it, though,” said Valen. “We can try some other way if you don’t want to get that close to him alone.”

“Pffft.” Louise waved off his concern. “Please. The only reason I didn’t want to be alone with him before was because I was afraid I might die from the cringe. Now I’m about ready to punch his teeth in. He’s always been a pushover in real fights anyways. The gang only kept him around for his parents’ money.”

“You don’t say,” said Valen, remembering his last fight with Byron. “Good luck.”

Enid parked her car where they could see Byron’s house and Louise hopped off to head for the front door.

Valen willed his own hearing to sharpen so that he could hear even her heartbeat as she rang the doorbell. He waited to hear the scratchy footsteps of wolven feet on the other side of the door.

Nothing.

Louise tried ringing the doorbell again. When she still received no response, she started banging on the door with her fist.

“Oy!” she cried. “Timmy! It’s Louise! I wanna talk!”

Again, no response. Louise turned around to shrug at them in the car. Valen was considering whether or not to come back later when Louise tried the door knob and was surprised to find it unlocked.

“Huh?” he heard her say to herself.

Valen looked at Enid, who had a wary frown on her face not unlike his own.

“Maybe he’s at the church?” said Enid.

“I doubt it.” Valen unfastened his seatbelt and opened the door. “Not even he would be stupid enough to leave his front door unlocked around here.”

Enid followed close behind him as he walked up to Louise at the door.

“What’s your call?” asked Louise.

Valen examined the door and grimaced upon noticing cracks in the wood near beside the handle along with a faint dirt imprint of a boot. Someone must’ve tried kicking the door down at some point, though it was still too early to say whether or not they succeeded.

“Let’s get inside.” He pushed through the door with his gloved hand. “It’s about time we got some answers.”

Valen entered the house and unbuckled the straps on his black leather shoes.

“What are you doing?” Enid asked with a puzzled expression.

“I’m taking off my shoes, why?”

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“We’re breaking and entering into someone’s house and you’re worried about taking off your shoes?”

Valen paused for a moment. Then, realising that she was right, sheepishly strapped his shoe back on and stepped inside.

“Let’s just go.”

“Pfft.” Louise rolled her eyes. “Imagine needing to wear shoes.”

“Imagine not being able to afford any,” Enid shot back.

Valen cleared his throat.

“Can you show us around, Louise?” he asked before they could start insulting each other again. “You said you’ve been here before, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Louise walked past him. “There’s just one place he never let anyone in when he brought the old gang over.”

“Which is?” Enid asked.

“His bedroom. If he’s got any skeletons in his wardrobe, it’s somewhere in there.”

Louise led past the surprisingly tasteful living room to where the bedroom was on the first floor. She opened the door and let out an audible gasp when she did.

“Holy shit.” She stopped into the room with her yellow eyes wide in shock.

“What's wrong-” Valen stepped inside and immediately shared her expression. “-oh. Um. I mean…wow. Just…wow.”

“What are you on about?” Enid stepped inside the room. ‘Oh. Oh…you know, we really should’ve seen this coming.”

“Probably,” said Valen. “Actually after what he said at the church I’m not sure what I was expecting.”

“I was friends with this wanker,” said Louise with dawning horror.

Valen stared at the red flag proudly displayed above the unmade bed. At its centre was a white circle which housed a symbol that made Louise avert her eyes in shame. Colloquially called the Ternion Beast, the symbol consisted of three triangles, two small ones placed atop the flat of a larger inverted triangle to create the simplified image of a predatory animal.

It might have once represented good fortune for the werebeast race, but over the years it had been corrupted into a symbol of hate by the Bestial Pureblood Movement. Although humans were the first ones to come up with the idea of prohibiting mixed-race marriages and promoting eugenics, it found great popularity among predatory werebeasts who used it to justify their made-up right to rule over werebeasts of prey species.

The especially stupid among them even took to breeding themselves for desirable traits. After hearing Byron’s spiel about white fur and needing to get together with Louise to preserve it, Valen guessed that he must’ve been one of them.

“Let’s snoop around for what we need and get out of here quickly,” said Valen. “I feel dirty just standing here.”

“I know just what to do.” Enid turned their attention to the computer sitting on a large wooden desk with a pricey gaming chair slid underneath it. “Let’s go through his internet history.”

“Great.” Louise cringed to herself. “Can’t wait to see what sort of porn he’s into.”

“It’s probably illegal in one way or another.” Enid pressed the power button but instead of slowly booting up, the screen lit up to show a sign-in screen.

“The computer was in sleep mode,” said Valen. A knot formed in his stomach. “That usually happens when you leave a computer unattended for too long. Could that mean he didn’t have time to turn it off manually?”

“Let’s find out.” Enid pressed the spacebar to sign into the computer.

The screen shifted to show some sort of webcam recording programme. The thumbnail for the last recorded video showed Byron sitting in his pyjamas in front of his webcam looking angry and depressed. The timestamp read 45 minutes exactly which Valen guessed must’ve been the recording programme’s maximum video length.

“This ought to be interesting,” Valen muttered to himself.

Enid clicked on the video and the three of them huddled together to watch.

At first Byron merely stared at the camera with a brooding expression that he must’ve thought made him look mysterious but it actually just made him look mildly constipated. The whole set-up reeked of a rant video someone with a lack of self-esteem would post on some underground message board for sympathy points from people like them. Judging by what he came next, that must’ve been exactly what it was.

“I’m so sick of everything,” he finally said after a lengthy silence.

Although his healing factor had hid most of his injuries, Valen could tell by the suspiciously fist-shaped gap in his spray tan that it must’ve been not too long after their fight.

“Today I found out that a girl I thought I loved was just another whore who didn’t care about the future of our race. It’s sad, really.”

Valen heard the sound of cracking wood and saw Louise digging her claws into the wooden desk.

“Lou, stop doing that. You’ll get splinters.”

“Huh?” Louise stopped upon seeing the deep scratch she’d made on the table. “Oh. Sorry. I’m just bloody pissed is all.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” said Enid. “This guy’s pissing me off too.”

“I’ve been holding out hope, you know,” Byron continued. “Ever since she rejected that fateful night. I always thought that we’d get together someday because the gods would never let beautiful white furs like hers disappear just because she was too proud to realise we were meant for each other.”

Enid’s one visible eye twitched in annoyance. “Please tell me you kicked him in the balls when you fought.”

“I am beginning to wish I had,” said Valen, a grim frown on his face.

Byron let out a mirthless chuckle before resuming on his vapid incel speal.

“Today, I found a leech in her house. A. Fucking. Leech. That’s what he was. I beat the shit out of him of course, but the damage was done. The girl I loved is gone now. All because of some leech with no love for even his own race.”

Valen allowed a long breath to exhale from his flared nostrils. “This man is never walking again once I find him.”

“He’s never going to have any kids either,” added Louise.

“Our race is facing a quiet genocide,” Byron continued, “It’s being destroyed from the inside out by selfish girls and the careless who lust over them. If I could-”

A loud thud that sounded like a door being kicked open cut him off before he could finish. Byron looked at his door and muttered something that sounded like “What the fuck” under his breath before briefly reaching towards the camera, presumably pressing the off button for the monitor.

The webcam kept recording Byron in his room, staring at his door as he waited for something to happen.

BANG!

The bedroom door was forced open, swinging into the camera frame for only a split second. Byron stood up with panic in his yellow eyes widened in surprise.

“Cyril?!” He cried with genuine terror. “W-what are you doing here?!”

A stern voice belonging to someone out of frame replied. It was male but had an oddly gentle quality to it, exemplified by a posh accent that sounded unbefitting of someone who just kicked two doors down.

“You made a mistake, Brother Byron.”

The intruder named Cyril walked into frame to grab Byron by the collar of his red dress shirt. He was an elf, tall and green-eyed with crew cut blonde hair and a short beard. The plain white T-shirt he wore under his grey two-piece suit hugged the contours of his muscular chest.

“W-what did I do?!” asked Byron in a panic.

“The sacred blood! A bottle was missing the church we gave you. Did you think you could steal some for yourself and get away with it?” Cyril shook Byron in his grasp. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Byron insisted. “I swear!”

Cyril paused and looked Byron straight in the eye. After a moment, he threw the frightened werewolf back into his chair.

“You’re not lying,” said Cyril to the sound of Byron's relieved sigh. “You may simply be incompetent rather than treacherous.”

“I-I think I know who took it.”

Cyril crossed his arms and stood up to his full height, putting his head above the camera frame.

“Enlighten me.”

“Alright, so, there’s this girl.”

Cyril’s face couldn’t be seen, but Valen could tell by his body language that he must’ve been rolling his eyes.

“I used to know her and she came into the church today,” Byron continued. “She said she was going to the bathroom but I bet the little bitch was snooping around our shit while I was giving her new boyfriend a piece of my mind. If it’s not with her then it’s with that leech boyfriend she’s got.”

“Great.” Cyril raised a hand to his unseen face in a way that made it look like he was pinching his nose. “Our God’s plans got foiled because of your bloody dick.”

“I know where she lives!” said Byron quickly. “I know a lot about her since I follow her around sometimes.”

“...You what?”

“I know where she likes to drink so I sometimes go there to make sure she’s okay. If she gets drunk I follow her home to make sure she’s safe.”

Silence fell in both the recording and the actual room Valen and his friends were watching it in.

“Are you okay, Louise?” Valen was about to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped himself. She didn’t need someone touching her right after finding out she had a stalker.

Louise slid her arm around his, gripping it tight for comfort. “I think I want to quit drinking.”

Sound returned to the video when Cyril spoke with the tone of unbridled disdain.

“A stalker. I’ve been working with a stalker.” His body language suggested that he turned to look at the bed, or more specifically the flag of the Ternion Beast hung right above it. The sight of it turned his voice into a low growl. “...You wretched little cretin.”

Byron looked at the Ternion Beast flag above his bed and his spray tanned face went white.

“W-wait, I can explain-”

Cyril grabbed him again, this time going straight for his throat. He lifted the choking werewolf up into the air and presumably sneered at him out of frame.

“Letting you join us was a mistake,” his words seethed with genuine hate. Everyone had standards it seems. “You’re going to help me clean up your mess and I’ll deal with you properly afterwards.”

And with that, the elf called Cyril dragged Byron out of the room by his neck.

There was the sound of doors closing and Byron struggling as they left, followed by the dull hum of the computer fan and the occasional car horn beeping outside.

Valen hovered the mouse over the video’s progress bar, but thumbnail previews that popped up showed only the empty bedroom from that point forward.

A tense quiet invaded the room once again. This time it was Louise who broke it, her unfiltered words echoing Valen’s own thoughts.

“What the fuck do we do now?”

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