Chapter 19: Chapter 19: Jail Bat Blues

Valen sat nursing a headache in an empty police interrogation room.

The light above the cold metal desk in front of him had a turned off voice recorder waiting for a police officer to operate it. Above him was a single hanging bar of light that irritated his nocturnal eyes.

Most kids who grew up in the Nocturnal District would’ve been in his situation at least once in their lives for some petty misdemeanour like pickpocketing or shoplifting. Valen was the exception. He’d done his best to steer clear from crime and found legal albeit disgusting ways to sate his thirst instead. You’d be surprised how many ways you can cook rat’s blood to make it palatable.

It was kind of funny in a terribly cruel, depressing way that the first time he did get arrested would be for trying to save a man’s life.

Valen couldn’t remember much after getting tased. He recalled Enid shouting with uncharacteristic intensity and getting crammed inside the back of a cop car. Next thing he knew, he was being escorted into the interrogation room and told to wait.

So he waited. How long he had no idea, but he’d be very surprised if it was anything less than two hours.

But as he was beginning to doze off when the doors of the interrogation room finally opened.

He straightened himself on the chair and blinked in the bright light until he could see who it was.

“Hey Valen,” said a familiar voice.

Valen let out a silent sigh of relief. He really lucked out getting a cop he knew would be reasonable.

“Good evening, Keiko,” said Valen, smiling with lips closed over his teeth.

Keiko sat on the metal chair across from him with a brown paper file in her hand. She was smiling, but there was sadness in her eyes.

“You know, if you wanted to ask me out on a date, there are easier ways of contacting me.”

Valen chuckled.

“My apologies. But nothing good in life comes easy, no?”

“I wish I could be as positive as you, Valen.” She opened the file and took out two photos which she glossed over before laying flat on the table. “May I ask what you were doing carrying these around?”

Valen looked at the table and saw photos of the butterfly swords and butterfly knife he’d been carrying with him when they arrested him.

“Self-defence,” said Valen. “You know how dangerous the Nocturnal District is.”

“Indeed,” said Keiko. “And I also distinctly recall telling not to go into Reveller’s Row tonight.”

“I figured that I’d be able to handle myself just fine if I had those on me.”

Keiko tapped on the photo of the butterfly swords. “Do you actually know how to use these?”

“Possibly,” said Valen. “I haven’t trained with those swords specifically but I do know martial arts.”

“Wait, really?” said Keiko with genuine surprise.

“Yes, I’m a junior blackbelt in arnis,” said Valen. “I would’ve tried for first degree blackbelt but the dojo I trained at closed down a while back.”

“Arnis…” Keiko paused for a moment before a light of recognition flashed up in her eye. “Oh! Isn’t that the flashy one with the sticks?”

“That’s the one,” said Valen. “The movies are quite fond of it.”

“Uh-huh.” Keiko pointed at the butterfly knife. “That’s an arnis weapon too, right?”

“That’s correct,” said Valen. “Though unfortunately people not trained in the art tend to hurt themselves with it a lot.”

The look on Keiko’s face turned grim. “It’s also the thing you used to pierce someone’s throat, yes?”

For a short moment, the room went quiet. Valen looked down at his hands, their snow white skin and black nails on full display now that his bloodstained gloves had been confiscated for evidence.

“I was trying to save him.”

“I know,” said Keiko. “You were trying to perform a tracheostomy, right?”

“He looked like he couldn’t breathe. I thought it was some sort of venom asphyxiating him.”

“You thought right.” Keiko took out another photo from the brown folder and laid it on the table, this one showing Clarence laying on a hospital bed hooked up to an IV with the pink straw in his neck replaced by a proper tracheostomy tube. “His full name is Clarence Chambers. Doctors say that some sort of organic venom was administered through his bloodstream causing the muscles in his neck and throat to swell.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s alive for now thanks to you, but the venom’s eating at him faster than he can regenerate. We can only wait and see.” Keiko pulled out another photo from the envelope and placed it onto the table. This time, it was a picture of bloodglass wrapped up in rubbers small enough to easily be swallowed. “Doctors also found these in his stomach.”

“Bloodglass?” Valen asked. 

“Yeah. Sorry to tell you, but the guy you saved was a dealer.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” said Valen without hesitation. “Even criminals can have loved ones.”

Keiko raised an eyebrow and held up her palms in surrender.

“You’re right. Sorry if I offended you,” she told him. “That was not my intention.”

“Ah, the fault’s mine.” Valen cursed himself in his head for the little outburst. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I do wonder though…” Keiko studied his expression, her coffee brown eyes analysing every tiny detail on his face. “Did you know that he was a dealer?”

Valen thought for a moment about how much of the truth he should give her.

“Yes,” he said, deciding that it was best to tell the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “I saw him trying to shoot up some drunk people with bloodglass in the club.”

“Is there a reason why you and your friends brought him to the back of the club?”

“I wanted to get him away from any friends he might’ve had in the club that could gang up on me. Plus, it was far too loud to call the police in the club.” Valen didn’t exactly lie. He really did want to get Clarence away from people and it really was way too loud inside that club, but Keiko didn’t need to know the real reason why he brought him outside. “How are my friends? I do hope they’re doing okay.”

“They’re fine.” Keiko paused for a moment upon remembering something else. “Well, actually, the werewolf girl got into a bit of trouble when she fought with some bouncers trying to kick her out but your other girlfriend paid her bail.”

An exasperated sigh blew from Valen’s nostrils.

“Dammit Louise,” he muttered under his breath.

“It’s quite impressive, though,” said Keiko. “It took like five people to finally bring her down. I heard she punched one of them in the dick.”

“Of course she did.”

Keiko cleared her throat. “Now, what can you tell me about what happened to Mr. Chambers after you brought him outside?”

“A man with a crossbow came and shot him,” said Valen. He had no reason to lie. He was fairly certain that the assassin was part of the Primordial Church, but even if they had people in the force, Keiko certainly wasn’t one of them. “The bolt was still sticking out of him when the police arrived. I believe that’s how the poison got inside him.”

“Can you describe the perpetrator?” Keiko asked. “Build, hair colour, skin tone, race? Anything helps.”

“He was quite short,” said Valen, recalling how he was barely any taller than Louise when she grabbed him. “A little over 150 centimetres, I believe? 160 at the very most. He was wearing a brown hoodie that covered most of his face but his uncovered chin was on the lighter side. Not vampire pale, though.”

“Were you able to determine his race?”

Valen thought back to anything that could help determine the would-be assassin’s race.

“When Louise tried to confront him, I recall him spitting something at her? It was this vicious white stuff that-” Valen noticed the blank stare Keiko was giving him and quickly changed his wording. “I mean, I think it was some sort of spider web but I can’t be sure. Are…were-spiders a thing?”

“That would check out with the venom.” Keiko held her chin in thought. “There are spider-people where I come from called jorogumo. They’re supposed to have spider legs growing from their backs. Did the perpetrator have any?”

“I didn’t see any,” said Valen, “but the hoodie was quite baggy so it might’ve hidden them.”

“Alright then.” Keiko took out a notepad from her waistcoat pocket and scribbled something into it with a pen. When she was finished she set it down and smiled at him. “I’m really sorry all of this happened, Valen.”

“It can’t be helped. Although, I would very much like to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“If it were up to me you wouldn’t have been electrocuted and brought here in the first place.” Sympathy and shame could be heard in her voice in equal measure. “Your redheaded ‘friend’ paid your bail, but my superiors insist on keeping you here for the next 24 hours. You will have to spend the night-um, day in a holding cell. Again, I’m terribly sorry.”

“I understand,” said Valen, smiling to assure her that he didn’t blame her. He was used to the discrimination at this point anyways. “By the way, how’s your partner doing?”

“You mean Cyril? He, um, got off with a slap on the first.” Keiko averted her eyes from him in apparent embarrassment. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” said Valen, though he cursed inside his head.

With the way the police normally treated matters of discrimation, he couldn’t even say for sure whether Cyril had more cultist allies in the force or if it was just the general apathy of the police rearing its ugly head again.

“Well, this about wraps things up.” Keiko slid all the photos back into the brown folder. “But, before I leave, would you like to be updated with Mr. Chambers’ condition in the future? I’m sure he’d like to say something to his saviour once he wakes up too.”

“That would be nice,” said Valen. “Do you need my number?”

“Yeah.” Keiko tore an empty page off her notepad and slid it over to him with her pen. “Just write it down there.”

Valen did as she said and Keiko pocketed the page in her waistcoat. But before she put away her notepad, she tore out another page and wrote another number on it that she handed to Valen.

“This one’s mine, in case you ever need any help.” Keiko flashed him a playful smile. “Or if you just want to talk. I’m still game for that drink.”

“I don’t drink alcohol,” said Valen, “but I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea or coffee with you.”

“That sounds nice too.” Keiko leaned forward. Her hand brushed against the collar of her white dress shirt, exposing just a tiny bit of her slender neck. “If all goes well, I might give you something else to sip on too.”

Valen felt his face flush red in embarrassment. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. His last girlfriend had to be the one to ask him out too, so he supposed that he must’ve had a thing for assertive girls.

“I just might take you up on that,” said Valen, returning her smile.

A little after Keiko left the room, another police officer entered the room. It wasn’t Cyril, thank the gods, but he was also nowhere near as nice as Keiko was.

He was a werewolf, with a burly build and shaggy brown hair that covered way more than his arms and legs. His black police uniform had a silver dragon head badge pinned proudly on his left breast, a symbol of allegiance to his fellow officers and a shiny shot target to his heart for everyone else.

“On your feet, leech,” he said.

Valen internally cringed at the slur but stood up without saying a word. No point making things any worse than they already are. 

Vampires and werebeasts were both often discriminated against. Vampires for being created from the resurrected dead. Werebeasts for being created from animals rather than humans like most other races.

That should’ve given them some sort of camaraderie, but too much bad blood had been shed between them throughout history by the fanatics of each race. Vampires who prided themselves on being the gods’ chosen few held werebeasts in disdain for being born of ‘common beasts.’ Pious werebeasts who held great respect for the natural cycle of life and death also harboured an equal amount of contempt for the vampires who defied it-willingly or not.

Over time the reason for their mutual hatred had largely been forgotten, though that didn’t stop people from indulging it. Stronger hatred had been bred from less.

Valen allowed the werewolf officer to escort him into a tiny holding cell under the police station. The light provided by a single dangling light bulb was scant, but he didn’t need them to see everything with his nocturnal eyes and quickly switched it off.

Sterile white tiles made up the walls and floor. A hard bed sat only a feet away from a stainless steel toilet-sink that he hoped he wouldn’t have to use during his stay.

“Hey!” cried a woman’s voice from the next cell over. “Has my sister called yet? She should’ve called by now.”

Metal clashed as she banged against her cell door while demanding a phone call to her sister.

Valen looked at the wall where the noise was coming from on the other side. “Are they quite alright?”

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“You should be more worried about yourself.” The officer threw Valen a tattered grey blanket that smelled like it hadn’t been washed in years. “And don’t you bother calling for anything either. We’re all already busy as it is.”

“Duly noted,” said Valen.

The officer closed the door behind him and promptly fucked off, leaving him trapped in the cell with a woman shouting for her sister just another cell over.

Valen folded the blanket he’d been given before putting it neatly at the foot of the bed. Vampires were resistant to cold anyways and he wasn’t keen on getting bit by whatever creepy crawlies might be living in the blanket.

The demands of the woman eventually petered out to weak pleas, then quiet murmurs to no one in particular until finally being reduced to quiet sobs.

Worried, Valen knocked softly on the tiled wall where the sobs were coming from.

“You alright there, miss?”

“I’m fine!” the woman on the other side shouted, not sounding the least bit convincing. There was a loud sniffle, followed by the sound of someone slumping into a rickety bed.

“Are you sure about that? You sound a tad distressed.”

“I’m pissed off is all,” she said, though she sounded more sad than angry. “Why do you care anyways?”

“Do I need a reason to care?” Valen seated himself on his own bed and tried his best to get comfortable. “Either way, you sound like you could use someone to talk to.”

The woman scoffed. “Sorry, but I don’t know you.”

“Well, let’s change that, shall we?” Valen knew she couldn’t see his smile, but he hoped that it showed it in his voice. “My name’s Valen.”

Silence between them for a moment before being broken by a short grunt of resignation.

“Eleanor,” said the woman. “But my friends call me Ellie.”

“Can I call you Ellie then?” Valen asked, half-joking.

Ellie let out a loud sigh.

“Sure,” she said. “It’s not like I have many friends anymore.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t make new ones,” said Valen. “You can start with me if you’d like.”

Ellie scoffed. “You know, you’re weirdly nice for someone in police custody.”

Valen could practically hear the sceptical squint in her voice.

“I’ve been told I’m weird in general,” said Valen.

“Why are you even here anyways?” asked Ellie. “You don’t strike me as the type to get into trouble.”

Valen leaned back on the cold tiled walls.

“I tried to give someone a tracheostomy.”

“...I see,” said Ellie after a brief pause. “I totally know what that is.”

“It’s when you pierce someone’s neck and shove a tube into the wound so they can breathe through it.”

“Oh.” Ellie went quiet for a moment as she tried to process what he’d just said. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“The guy was choking to death so I did it to save him,” Valen explained. “He survived but the doctors don’t know how long that’ll last.”

“Wait, and they arrested you for that?” The disgust was clear in her voice. “For saving someone’s life?”

“To be fair,” said Valen. “I was holding a knife and covered in blood when they tased me.”

“They tasered you too?” A humourless chuckle echoed from Ellie’s cell. “Wow. Way to make me feel like an arse for complaining.”

“My suffering doesn’t make yours any less valid,” said Valen. “I know how…difficult Nocturnal District police can be.”

“Understatement of the millenia.” More creaks came from Ellie’s cell as she presumably tried to make herself comfortable on the thoroughly uncomfortable bed. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m in here too?”

“I won’t ask if you don’t want to tell,” said Valen. “Do you?”

“I…” There was another pause before she spoke. “...No. But thank you for understanding.”

Ellie sounded relieved. Valen was glad. He might not have been able to become a doctor, but he was happy to help people in what little way he could.

“So, Ellie,” said Valen, chippering up his voice to lighten the mood. “Are you from the Nocturnal District?”

“Not originally. I just moved here a couple years ago,” she replied. “What about you?”

“I’m the opposite,” said Valen. “I grew up here but moved out for university and stayed out.” 

“Man, you’re educated too?” Ellie let out a soft laugh, but Valen could sense a tiny hint of resentment in it. “Why’d you come back?”

“I came back for…” Valen considered his answer. “...family matters.”

Not exactly the truth, but not a lie either. He did come to the Nocturnal District to write a dissertation on the Primordial Church, but he was also hoping to find his sister among their ranks. 

But of the two truths, Valen guessed that the latter would be more relatable to her. Plus, judging by the resentment in her voice, it was probably better to avoid the subject of university going forward.

“Family, huh?” said Ellie. “That’s a coincidence. My family’s the reason why I moved here too.”

“You mentioned a sister?” Valen asked. “Are they older or younger?”

“She’s older, though I sometimes feel like the big sister. What about you? Have any siblings?”

“I have an older sister too.” Valen thought back to his sister Vivian, who always tried her best to smile despite their circumstances. “Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve survived growing up around here without her.”

“She sounds like a lovely woman,” said Ellie. Valen couldn’t see her face with the white tiled wall between them, but he liked to think that she was smiling when she said it. “Are you sure we can’t trade sisters?”

“Ha! Sorry mate, but I ain’t trading mine for the world.”

“Aw, come one!” Ellie whined. This time, Valen could definitely hear the smile in her voice. “Mine’s got a nice voice if you can ignore her face!”

The two of them spent the next two hour or so just talking. First about their family, then about their hobbies. There was a brief instance where they got into politics before coming to the unspoken agreement to not touch that matter again with a ten foot pole.

By the time the werewolf officer returned, they were in the middle of a passionate debate about food.

“I’m telling you,” said Ellie. “It’s a piece of meat inside a single piece of bread. It is a taco. Not a sandwich. A taco.”

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” asked the werewolf officer from the other side of the heavy cell door.

“We were discussing whether or not a hotdog is a sandwich,” said Valen.

“...Why?”

“Because we’re bored!” Ellie cried. “You could’ve at least locked us up with our phones ya know!”

“Hmph.” There was the sound of rattling keys and the screech of metal as Ellie’s door opened. “You don’t have to be bored any longer. You’re getting out now.”

“Did my sister come?” Ellie’s voice perked up. Valen heard her step out of her cell.

“No,” said the officer bluntly. “But someone’s paid your bail.”

“What? Who?”

“Don’t know and if I were you I wouldn’t care.” The officer shut the cell door again. “Just be glad that they did and get out of our hair.”

“Wait! Can I at least see Valen before I go?”

“Who’s Valen?” the officer asked.

“That’d be me, sir.” Valen looked expectantly at the cell door’s view slide hoping it’d open to reveal who he’d been talking to for the past hour.

“No time,” the officer said. “Come on, you’re getting out of here.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Ellie shouted. “I’m coming, I’m coming, so don’t drag me!”

“Good luck out there Ellie!” Valen shouted out to her.

“You too Valen!” she shouted back. “Stay safe, you hear?”

Without anyone to talk to, time seemed to move much slower. Valen passed it by watching the cars that occasionally passed through his cell’s single window, which was about the width of a textbook and had strong metal bars over it for good measure.

Without a sun to tell time, he could only guess how many hours went by as the world outside went on without him.

At some point he fell asleep looking out into a world that thought him invisible only to be jolted awake by the smell of blood.

Still half asleep, his red eyes fluttered open to see the barred off window that he’d been staring at for the past gods know how many hours. Wisps of red mist slithered between the metal bars and coalesced into a crimson cloud within the cell.

Valen blinked and rubbed his eyes wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him again.

When he opened his eyes again, the cloud had formed into the shape of a person. Then, it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

In its place was the solid shape of a person in a red cape coat with a large hood pulled over their face.

The last bit of sleep purged itself out of Valen’s brain at the sight of the intruder and he rolled out of the rickety bed and onto his feet, his hands raised in defence and eyes fixed on his unexpected visitor.

“Who are you?” he said on instinct even though he already knew the answer.

Another assassin sent by the Primordial Church, no doubt. Who else could it be?

Valen was surprised when the person raised their slender hands in surrender, showing pale alabaster skin and black nails which marked them as a fellow vampire.

“Easy there,” said the hooded figure. 

They had a woman’s voice that sounded oddly familiar, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“What do you want from me?” Valen demanded, glancing behind him at the heavy metal door and wondering whether or not shouting for help would do any good.

The hooded lady pulled back her red hood to reveal soot-black hair and a face that made Valen’s heart jump into his throat.

It was his face. The features were softer and the mole under her right eye instead of her left, but it was undoubtedly his own face looking back at him.

To top it all off, a silver fang shaped earring encrusted by rubies hung from her right ear-the identical counterpart to the heirloom he wore on his left ear.

“Hey Valen,” said Valerie, smiling just as she did the day she disappeared from his life. “We need to talk.”

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