La Dracu [OPEN]

[Arun (DELETED 9048)]

It was, for all intents and purposes, a regular night in the lair of the undead. Well, that’s what Arun liked to call it – the abandoned sewer system that was inhabited by a gang of vampires and necromancers, otherwise supernatural magical beings that hoped to learn from. Even if just by observation. The halls and nooks had become home to the young sorcerer, who had yet to fully learn his own potential. Whatever power he was capable of came in fits and starts, his move to Harper Rock not yielding as many positive results as he had hoped. Vasile, though enjoying his nights playing gigs across the different pubs of the city, was growing bored. The two of them were so accustomed to moving around, if they stayed in one place too long...

Well, Arun had told his brother that, just this once, they might have to part ways. Arun knew that this city was holding something back and he needed to find it, whatever it was. He needed to know what magic ran through his blood, and he needed to know to what degree he could use it. Vasile always grumbled when it reached this point of the conversation – he was loathe to part from his family, so he would have to make do with the line of men and women he was constantly bringing home.

Arun was rarely home to have to deal with the noise; he was either at work at the observatory, which was mostly night time hours, or he was out exploring the underbelly of the city. He quite often found himself in the abandoned sewers, having not yet gathered the courage to approach the not-humans who made it their home. On this particular night he was close. In his mind, he knew he was going to do it. Tonight was going to be the night.

Armed with barely anything, the young sorcerer prepared to clear his throat while standing behind one of the Disciples. When he did clear his throat he wondered at how it had echoed, how loud the sound actually was – until he realised that his grunt had coincided with the discharge of a gun. The Disciple moved like the wind. Perhaps he had seen his attacker and had the chance to move out of the way before he was shot. Arun, not wanting to get in the middle of a fight that was not his own, went to take a step backwards, to slip around the corner and out of the way.

His back slammed against a wall and he counted his lucky stars – for half a second. A single glance down revealed that there was something wrong. Something was very, very wrong – and it was confirmed by the brilliant, vibrant, sharp, all consuming pain that had him sliding down the wall and pressing his hands to his groin.

Except he didn’t know where he had been shot. He didn’t know where the blood was coming from. There was so much blood! And the pain spread through his whole body making it impossible to target.

“****,” he muttered, the blood draining from his face.

“****,” he gasped, quite certain an artery had been split open. Didn’t that mean he could die in minutes?!

“...help,” he squeaked. Would anyone down here even care to help?

“Oh Jesus...” he groaned. Arun wasn’t a religious man. He believed in science. Science told him that a severed femoral artery was fatal. But lord, did he pray now.

WEARING

[Ainsley (DELETED 8973)]

Ainsley had stayed longer than she intended to, or any other time before. Once a week (occasionally twice), after work, Ainsley rode the train to Cherrydale after purchasing an arrangement of flowers, and visited the grave of her son. His grave was never difficult to find, not that the woman believed she would ever forget where his final resting place was. However, like a dozen, perhaps a few more, or less, there was a fat baby cherub on the headstone that had been purchased for him. One that was designed specifically for the death of a child, she had been told from the funeral home when the woman had to endure the second most difficult circumstance in her life. The first being the death of her infant.

“I have something else for you tonight.” Ainsley told him, sitting cross legged to the side of his headstone. “I found it while in your room.” She concluded, before opening her purse and pulling out an infant toy she bought for him. It was either the second or the third. The first one, Ainsley could not part with yet, even if it had been designated for Gabriel. “It crinkles, rattles and squeaks on some of the shapes.” Ainsley propped it in front of his headstone, then sighed. “It's still hard some days. Most days.” Ainsley confessed to the gravestone, before the woman leaned forward and pressed her lips to the carefully designed stone. “I have to go, or you're uncle will worry.” She pulled out her phone from her purse, then shook her head. It was way later than Ainsley expected to be here-but time almost seemed to stop for her while she was with Gabriel. “See you next week, my sweet angel.” She stood, gently wrapped her fingers around the outward protrusion of the design on the headstone, then slowly let go as Ainsley walked away.

She never took the train back after her visits to Gabriel. Ainsley liked the time after to be quiet as she thought about her visits and all the things she had meant to tell him, but didn't. It would be prioritized into what she would tell him the next time Ainsley visited his grave, as the most important, or urgent. Her path was always the same, heading south towards Thornside park, where Ainsley would cut across the park to save time and walking, before moving south bound from there. Ainsley had been about halfway through the park, when she caught sight of someone who just about 'disappeared' into thin air. She blinked once, then twice, and deviated from her usual path to see if what she saw was real, or if it had been a figment of her imagination.

Ainsley had never noticed a small entrance into...something else. She looked around in both directions around her, then pulled it open. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she saw walls that never seemed to end. “H-hello?” She called quietly, but her voice echoed further than the woman anticipated. She stepped into what seemed like....sewers at some point. Maybe when the city was smaller and newer? She heard a gun shot, then another, followed by another, and each one had the woman jumping from surprise. Ainsley almost turned around and ran, but then she heard something.

A couple of words, none of which actually meant anything, or stuck out to her. But the last word she heard, before Ainsley acted had. 'Help.' She felt obligated to do just that. She couldn't let someone die in this place-they would never find him. “Coming!” Ainsley said, before slapping a hand over her mouth. What a stupid thing to do, she nagged at herself, while still running. She ran for what felt like...ever. It probably wasn't more than a minute at most, but when someone's life might be on the line, ever second seemed longer as more passed by. “OH!” She gasped as her hand found her mouth again.

Who did this to him? What was this place? Was the person still here? All questions that had ran through her mind-but again, Ainsley had to help him, especially now that she saw how bad things were. “I'm here to help.” She said, while the dark haired woman pulled off her coat, after tossing her pirse to the ground next to him. “Keep your hand there. You did the right thing.” She actually didn't know, but Ainsley had seen enough shows of all sorts that did the same thing. Apply pressure to the wound. “What's your name?” She smiled to him, as Ainsley pulled at the sleeves of her coat, stretching them far away from the other. “I'm Ainsley. I have to tie this around your leg. Keep the pressure on your injury no matter what. I'll try to not move your leg as I do that.” She looked him in the eyes, as Ainsley draped the coat over his leg, grabbed her cellphone from her purse and pressed the digits she would need for the emergency transport with one hand, as the other covered his hand and helped him keep pressure on the bullet wound. “May I do that?” She asked, wanting to make sure he wouldn't freak out in any aspect as Ainsley tried to save his life.

[Mardvosa (DELETED 9357)]

A mild fog rolled low over the ground in the alleyway, hurried footsteps were heard stepping on or through garbage, discarded paper and murky muddles. A middle-aged man with a four 'o clock shadow, clad entirely in black with what seems some manner of protective gear at first glance, holding a crowbar in hand with a balaclava rolled onto the top of his head, revealing his panicked face as he looks around him, fearing for his life. He looked roughed up, with a bleeding wound here and there, and clumsily began to try and open a manhole cover, thinking it would be a place of refuge from whatever is chasing him. He finally succeeded, and began to climb down the old, muck-covered metallic ladder when his eyes opened wide, for around the corner came a woman whose skin was even more pale in the moonlight, with long dyed-black hair and wearing a long light-brown coat, but more importantly, she had an assault rifle trained on him, upon which he immediately let himself slide down the ladder,
and into the dark.

Maryl had been pursuing the man for some time, now. He was a vampire hunter named Sergei Gruzdev, and he and his two companions had attempted to hunt down Maryl once before. They weren't ready when Maryl became the hunter instead, paying them a night-time visit. Both of Sergei's companions were dead in the struggle, and Sergei managed to escape with only a few belongings. All she had to do was end him, and she could rest easy during daytime once again. She smirked to herself as she saw him slide down the abandoned sewers, for she knew their layout well. It's where she'd spent her first month as a fledgeling vampire, barely surviving and having to flee from anyone that could hold a gun. Things were so different, now...

As Sergei turned on a flashlight and began fleeing through the sewer tunnels, a loud splash echoed through them as Maryl landed in a small pool. She wasn't entirely dressed for a sewer run, but was thankful these weren't her good shoes, anyhow. The chase began, it's intensity rising by the minute as Sergei ducked from side passage to side passage, occasionally some rats scurrying away, or even a startled creature hurrying away into the dark. Maryl grinned as Sergei ducked aside once more, for she knew he just went into a long, straight section. This was her chance as she gave chase, levelling her assault rifle and opening a three-shot burst fire at the first humanoid thing she saw. Sergei fell to the ground with two gunshots in his back, and Maryl exhaled as the hunt was over, her fangs showing as she had a glint in her eye. The other 'her' within definetly enjoyed this little distraction, but the joy of the hunt fell away like a broken curtain upon hearing a faint noise... a soft, squeaking for help. Her eyes peered down the tunnel as her fangs retreated, but she could only make out something just around the corner, a hand, for a brief moment. Did she hit someone else?

Hurriedly, she searched Sergei's body, taking out some documents to read later, before she picked up the body and tossed it into a nearby broken section of the sewer tunnel. Her thoughts raced as she heard more noises from that end of the tunnel, pondering on whether she should go and investigate or not. She knew the twisted side of her would not hesitate to make use of a helpless person and drain them dry, but thankfully she had fed on Sergei's companions before. She wasn't hungry, and her more humane, controlling side was in charge. It was a tough decision, with many outcomes and dangers. If she wanted to help, she needed a clever deception. She knew Sergei had a fake police badge on him, maybe it was enough...

She held the assault rifle lowered non-threateningly with one hand as she approached, now wearing Sergei's head-gear for communication with the two dead vampire hunters. She came around the corner to look at the scene, pretending to speak into the microphone: "This is Richards, got a wounded civ. Continue pursuit without me." She glanced at the two, approaching Arun to help look at the wound. "Agent Claire Richards, CSIS. Looks like our suspect got you, why are you two down here anyways?" She lightly frowned, feigning frustration as she flashed the fake badge in the dark tunnel. "Keep pressure on that, I'll call you an ambulance." she said, reaching down for a smartphone that 'the other her' had stolen the day before (though she vaguely remembered that), and began trying to call emergency services.

[Arun (DELETED 9048)]

Arun’s body ran hot and cold. A sorcerer completely unaware, one who did not completely comprehend what he was capable of – what was his body going to do when under the threat of death? What a human body would, of course. Its instinct was to survive. Heat flashed from the core of his being and, even as he was joined by a young, pretty woman a blast of fiery light exploded from his fingertips and into the ground. She’d asked whether it was okay that she help him and his response was to shatter the brick beneath him. It was not intended, but nor did he have the energy or the wits to apologise. The shock caused him to hiccup, his green eyes wide as the darkness tried to creep in around the edges.

What he did not notice, so much, was the way his skin flickered – in one wave it was hard as rock before it was soft and pliable again. A skill that would have been useful moments before, if his skin could have been hard enough to ward off a bullet. Somehow, his body decided that the rock skin was better for him, it helped him to remain strong and withstand death. And so, in yet another wave, his skin again took on the properties of rock and stayed that way.

This Arun did not notice, however. He nodded, gasping a hurried ‘yes’ as he agreed to allow the stranger to help him. Of course, he had asked for it. It would be remiss of him to say ‘no’ now that he had the help that he had requested. There was no reservation as the phone was tugged from her pocket; Arun, for all intents and purposes, was a well-meaning citizen. He had no priors, no reason why he should stay out of a hospital. The Canadian health system, as far as he was aware, was a good one. If it was going to cost him an arm and a leg to save his own life regardless, then so be it.

He hadn’t the wits to know what was being wrapped around his leg and the wound that, he vaguely registered, had not ripped through his family jewels – but he was happy to allow whatever it was to be wrapped tight. It helped him to hold the pressure.

And, equally as vaguely, he realised that they had been joined by a third party. Another woman. She sounded official, which didn’t bother Arun. He couldn’t say yes or no as to who had shot him. He hadn’t seen a face, or even a body. He couldn’t say whether it had been man, or woman. Again, he nodded. To both women, both of whom had a phone handy.

“Ambulance, yes,” he gasped, nodding. He needed a hospital, and he wasn’t stubborn or stupid enough to try to pretend like he could get through this without professional help.

[Ainsley (DELETED 8973)]

With her coat tied as high up as it could be, Ainsley hoped that it would help, until the real help got here. A woman, by the name of Claire Richards arrives on scene, flashing a badge and spouting off acronyms. Ainsley didn't know all the branches of police, and other government officials, but CSIS sound real to her. Something to do with Criminals, Ainsley imagined.

"I-I just saw someone come down here. Then I heard...this." She gestured towards the injury with her free hand, the other keeping pressure on the male's groin. Had the situation been completely different, Ainsley would have had cheeks the color of watermelon splashing over her cheeks. But, this wasn't one of those scenarios where she got too close to a place she shouldn't be for whatever odd reason. A man was loosing a lot of blood and he might very well die. "We don't know each other. I just--I'm here to help. When will the ambulance be here?" She asked, noticing how very wet her coat was getting. "Should we move him to the exit? Outside? Out of the old dirty water?" There was slight panic in her voice as Ainsley asked those questions, her head turning towards the direction of the woman who should know the right answers and know what to do. At least, Ainsley hoped so.

[Mardvosa (DELETED 9357)]

Her eyes occasionally shifted across the panicked Arun, as if searching for something odd that had caught her eye, but couldn't pinpoint what presicely as her attention was shifted to the sudden questions of the young woman next to him. "Well, you're either very brave, or very stupid to come down here alone, if you don't mind me saying. That counts for the both of you. In any case, moving him now is a double-edged sword, we need to get him away from the water and in a cleaner location, sure. But he's been shot in the waist. If we allow his legs to move too much, it might do more damage, and make him bleed excessively... just keep the open wound away from the water." she said, peering at the way Arun was lying, trying to determine exactly where he was shot in between the hand(s) keeping pressure and the blood all over his clothes.

It seemed like a low wound, and she knew there was a particular vein, the femoral artery, that flowed a lot of blood through that area. "You keep your hands on that wound, I'll stop the blood coming from his leg. The ambulance should be here in a few minutes." she told Ainsley, before turning to Arun: "They've got a stretcher and gear to pull you out of here without you moving too much. I'm just worried about them finding you down here, maybe one of us should go up there and guide them down here." she suggested, holding the heel of her hand against the large vein between the torso and leg, hoping it would further stop the bleeding. Her hand felt cold, yet strong as she nodded reassuringly at the both of them, though in the back of her mind, a familiar voice was whispering monstrous thoughts of what she could be doing right now, as her eyes slowly peered down at all the blood. She began focusing her willpower to try and not lose control in this moment, 'she' had had her fun this evening and these people had done nothing wrong. Staring blankly at the wound, she absent-mindedly stopped breathing a moment as her thoughts battled eachother. Then again, what was this man doing down here, anyway? "Just stay awake, okay?" she muttered to Arun. "What brought you down here, in the first place?"

[Arun (DELETED 9048)]

Stay awake, he was told, and Arun had to force his eyelids open in order to follow the command. Every time he blinked it felt like his eyelids weighed another ten pounds. The conversation flowed around him and he struggled to catch the words, to focus on what was being said as a way to stay awake. Something about ambulances and stretchers, water and staying still. If all his blood weren’t bleeding into the muck and murk of the sewerage water his cheeks might have flushed, too. Not just one good looking woman, but two – and their hands getting all close and personal with his nether regions. But they weren’t after anything, and his nether regions were on the fritz. A man’s arousal couldn’t be expected to function when he wasn’t sure whether it was still in one piece.

It wasn’t exactly warm in the tunnels, though the weather was warming up outside. Still, Arun started to shiver and shake, his limbs taking up a tremor that he couldn’t control. He sucked in a breath and, with eyes still wide, he forced his brain to comprehend the question that had been asked of him. What was he doing down here in the first place? He had nothing to hide, and it was a free country. There was nothing stopping him from coming down here – no barricades or signs saying that he couldn’t, or that it was illegal to do so.

”Re – research,” he said between chattering teeth. He sucked in a breath and nodded, then bit the soft side of his tongue. ”My name it… it is Arun Dumitrescu,” he said, the words rushing from his lips. ”My brother, Vasile – if I… he needs to know,” he said, and he reached for the nearest hand, squeezing it with blood-slicked fingers. In his delirium he didn’t know whose hand he was holding. Everything was kind of blurry.

”Please… call my brother…”

[Ainsley (DELETED 8973)]

Ainsley wasn't brave, or stupid, but if the woman was right...she was more stupid in this scenario than brave. "Maybe both." She had survived the loss of a baby, and people viewed her as being 'brave,' sometimes, after saying the traditional 'I'm sorry,' speech. It all sounded the same after a while, no matter who said it and what was said. After hearing of their 'sorrow,' the dark haired woman usually tuned them out and found something else to focus on.

At the mention of both of them, Ainsley looked down at the blood that was starting to soak his jeans. If she could switch places with the stranger, Ainsley would in a heartbeat. While she never could take her own life, that didn't mean that some days or nights went by that the woman hadn't wished she were dead. Wished to be where Gabriel was at. It was selfish on Bohan and their sister to think things, but she did. And right here, right now, Ainsley wished it had been her who had been shot.

"Hmm? Oh. I'll go." Ainsley offered, wanting to shove aside those deep, dark thoughts. Dwelling on those fleeting thoughts weren't what 'Arun' needed right now. Not if he was going to live. Ainsley slowly moved to go to the entrance, but stopped. "Got him?" She asked the woman, before putting her full faith in the stranger and her ability to help Arun until the right help came along.

Ainsley walked fast, the water sloshing around her as she headed back the way she came. She could hear sirens; loud ones. That meant they were close. Ainsley picked up her pace until the cool night air slapped her cheeks, turning them a frosty pink. The lights bounced around the park and what little fixtures there were, as she waved a hand and shouted out, "OVER HERE! HURRY!"

[Mardvosa (DELETED 9357)]

Reaching to press down on the wound itself as well, once Ainsley stood up, she nodded to the woman. "Thank you. I've got him. And yes, your brother will be called, soon.", Maryl muttered as her eyes involuntarily stared down at all the blood, now. Even though she had no need to drink, 'she' had been waiting for a moment to creep in and try to take control, and all that monstrous side of her only had to do, was pose one question to begin a cascade of doubts:
'Why not?'. Would they even care if the roles were reversed and they knew what she was? How long hadn't she suffered in these very sewers, in pain for weeks on end with bullet wounds just about everywhere, without a single soul to guide her through these unnatural changes? What if the man she was helping was just another reckless vampire hunter? Why should she not drain him dry, right here and now, and leave before the ambulance got here? Doubts raced through her mind at such a fast pace, it began to be headache-inducing as she froze in place holding Arun's wound, blood covering her hands. "Let me do it.", whispered a familiar voice in the back of her head, as unbeknownst to her, her fangs were showing as she stared down, as if entranced.

Steadily, she felt control slipping through her fingers, her mind delving into the monstrous and macabre thoughts that her other self so readily would indulge in, until her vision replaced Arun with a different person entirely. For the briefest of moments she saw the man she'd killed after she became what she is now, on that horrid day. The overwhelming guilt and confusion, the solitude and sorrow, and steadily she began to realise she'd been losing more of herself every day since to this... monster. Her fangs retreated as swiftly as they came, a certain calm frustration coming over her. Not today. Not today would 'she' have her fun, and dictate choices. Though Maryl couldn't answer the question as to why she was helping to save this one person, perhaps it was enough to simply be in control. To not let 'her' take away more of her humanity than she already had. Through the echoes in the sewer tunnels, she'd heard the shouting of the woman that was just with them, and her gaze turned to try and catch Arun's eyes, to see if he was still awake at all, or had noticed anything odd as these dangerous thoughts had been trying to manifest. "You're going to be alright." she said, more to comfort herself, than to calm Arun.

[Arun (DELETED 9048)]

There were probably better ways for Arun to have found answers, and better (safer) places to go to do his research. It would have been hard enough for anyone to have found him in the regular sewers, let alone some abandoned ones – he was counting his luck that not one, but two women had stumbled across him when he saw it. The first woman had disappeared to, as he understood it, lead the paramedics down into the darkness. The second remained with him, and he should have felt safe with her. She had flashed a badge, hadn’t she? She was an official person. Badges were an honour bestowed upon those who were equipped to deal with responsibility and pressure. Badges, too, were just hunks of metal that could be forged or stolen. This latter thought crept into Arun’s heart and planted ice there when he saw the fangs.

What else was he to expect? These sewers weren’t just rife with a cult of beings who used magic, but they were also vampires. And he was human. And here he was, bleeding from the vein and no doubt drawing them to him like sharks. And this was just the first. Where were the rest? Surely there’d be more, soon. They’d flock and he’d have a dozen sets of teeth piercing his flesh on limb and torso and neck. And what’s more, he’d lured more humans down here, too. Not just the woman who’d found him but the paramedics that she had gone to collect. Unless she, too, was a vampire, and she wasn’t going to collect paramedics at all. This could all be a ruse, and she could be running around the corner to find her vampire friends.

And Vasile would never be called. His brother would never know what had happened to Arun. His parents would grieve until they died, never knowing where their youngest had disappeared to. Just another missing face amongst the many in Harper Rock.

Although he’d been instructed to stay still, Arun had filled himself with terror, ninety-nine percent certain he was about to die. He would blame no one but himself. His feet roughly pushed at the ground as he tried (and failed) to push his back against the wall, to climb to his feet as the flight instinct kicked in. The woman murmured reassurance, but Arun could not deny what he had seen.

”P—please. I don’t taste very good,” he said. How could he know? It wasn’t as if he was a connoisseur of blood and could differentiate between what was good and what was not. ”I don’t think there’s much left,” he gasped, yes. That was better. Most his blood had bled out into the sewer by now. ”Please don’t kill me!”