Call me animal.

[phantastus]

WHO: Heather Mason and Maurice Hutch (OC)
WHERE: Dogtrot, Texas
WHEN: Just easing into spring.
WHAT: What probably would have been a night spent loitering around the drug store and breaking bottles in the alley like generic malcontent youths takes several unexpected turns when a vampire hunter interrupts Maurice while waiting for his friend from up north.
RATING: Probably PG. CW for violence, mild body horror and transformation.




awsum
ill be outside where the rentareel used to be

Maurice had put out the call and now he was in his place, hands in his coat pockets. He hadn't seen his friend for a while now. One thing or another would come up (said things including worrying mothers, various injuries, and plain bad weather) and now that at least the weather had calmed its bad self down, the world was ready to be trampled again.

And what a night for it! It was clear with chilly breezes sneaking around buildings and down alleyways. An orange moon hung low on the horizon and kept the clouds far on the edges of the horizon. It wouldn't rain for two more days. Spring was coming. The tiny green shoots had just barely started poking out of the ground where there was enough actual soil instead of the red clay of Dogtrot. Crispy dead leaves still hung in the corners where the buildings met the sidewalk. Easter candy all but overflowed on super market shelves.

The vampire thought of all the things they would do once Heather got there. They could graffiti the old building marked to be torn down the following week since it was technically not illegal anymore. They could eat pizza at Tod's until they were sick. And DRANKS. And Sega. If Meranda hadn't taken over the sofa for the night. An outlet in her room had blown (or so she said) so she spent a lot of time on the sofa during her WoW raids.

Something interrupted his thoughts. He had lived in Dogtrot for years now and not a lot surprised him. He knew the local vampires, he even knew a local spook or two. He knew the drug addicts and the few homeless and what they sounded like. What he heard on that empty chilly street was none of those things.

"Quack quack!" It was mechanical. Grainy.

Maurice lifted a brow and tugged his phone out wondering if Meranda had passive-aggressively changed the ring on it again.

"Quack quack!"

"The hell...?" It wasn't his phone. Maurice pocketed it and looked all around. The quack came from an alley across the street between a now defunct QUICK CASH and what was going to be a shiny new laundromat. Maurice looked both ways and ventured forward into the gloom.

The garbage can at the end of the alley quacked. Maurice screwed up his face in thought. Broken toy that suddenly came back to life? Stranded cyborge duck?

Up above on the rooftop, a long and lean and very crafty hunter was watching his prey fall for his trap hook, line, and sinker. His father had been a hunter--a normal hunter. Deer, ducks, rams. He had watched him make odd noises to get the attention of the deer. A whistle or a click to make them stop in just the right place. Sometimes to even lure them in.

Humans were the most curious animals that he knew of and though the thing in the alleyway wasn't human (not in the slightest) he had to watch it in fascination and amusement before he made his move.

Maurice peered into the trash. There was an old Talkboy straight from the eighties in the trash quacking away.

"Oh, man, sweet!" It was all his! He reached for it. Something dressed in full army camo descended upon him and drove a thin knife into his shoulder. Maurice screamed like a wildcat and the fight began.

Comments

[foolishwren]

cool c u there in like 5 mins lol

It was hard to believe, after everything that happened on the night of her father's death, that Heather would ever have been comfortable venturing into rifts and otherworlds by her own volition.

But well, here she was.

At least bending physics to get to Texas from Maine in ten minutes' time didn't involve any death or mayhem.

It was a path she'd trod often enough by now to be familiar with it, even if it had been a few months since she'd last gotten together with her undead southern buddy. The sleepy town of Dogtrot was a pleasant enough place to spend time, if only because it was a nice change of scenery from the slush and icy roads that had been clinging on well past their time back in Bangor. She rounded the street-corner in the middle of tugging off the heavy hoodie she'd worn out-- even a chilly Texas evening was practically balmy to anyone used to Maine winters.

Once she'd yanked it over her head, she realized she'd actually walked right past the designated meeting spot and carefully backstepped until she reached it again.

That was weird.

She dug out her phone to recheck the message she'd received.

Nope, this was definitely the right place.

There was just a very distinct lack of vampire.

Slipping the cell back into her pocket, Heather looked around again, uncertainty creeping in. It wasn't that it was totally out of the question for Maurice to be late for something. He was hardly a shining poster child of punctual arrivals. But he'd said he was already right in town. That was a pretty decent head start compared to someone passing through a couple hidden rifts and grottos to get there, no matter how well-memorized.

"... Huh..."

Thumbing her pocket, she briefly considered pulling the phone back out to shoot off a standard 'where r u' text.

Then she heard the scream.

YOU GET A LINE AND I'LL GET A POLE

[toothaches]

The sun had only just set and the heat of the day now drifted up from the red clay and stones that Dogtrot was made of. The smell of damp grass and lichen and bark filled the air like a fog and there was sound. Spring had began in earnest and the pine woods were full of peeping frogs and the sawing songs of crickets. And mosquitoes.

Dear sweet Jesus were there mosquitoes. Luckily for one of the two folks picking their way through the tall grass and fallen branches, he didn't really attract them since he gave off no heat.

Maurice stepped high in his rubber boots. The vampire wore his fishing hat right and proper and a canvas backpack that rattled. A pair of fishing poles bobbed over one shoulder (because he didn't trust Heather not to whap him with the thing as they walked) and he swung a camping lantern back and forth in his free hand. The path they sluggishly zig zagged down hadn't been taken in...quite some time. Not this path.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I got caught in a bear trap out here? Almost broke my damn leg!"

[toothaches]

Boots? Check.

Actual coat with sleeves? Check.

Adventure Backpack with first aid kit, snacks, flashlight, and extra clothes because somebody has a bad habit of hulking out and throwing theirs into random bodies of water? Check.

It wasn't that it was cold. It was a nice night with a light breeze but Maurice knew better than to stalk into new territory without sleeves. He could get caught by the sun. Or briers. Both sucked. They had gone the long way around the pond, around his shoe pile (for reasons) and now they had just crossed a barbed wire fence. Maurice stood on the wires and bowed the whole thing to the ground. The wood was old and the wire was black.

They weren't, however, so deep in the woods that they couldn't still hear civilization. Street lights glimmered in the gaps between the pines like stars that had fallen to earth. The woods stretched along the fields and encircled the town itself before thinning into farmland and small neighborhoods. The ghost of a farmhouse sat like a ship at sea between the treeline and the lights of the city.

The vampire squinted at it before turning back to his friend.

"Alright, Big Bird...we're in new territory now, so be nice to the neighbors."

[toothaches]

It was raining.

It had been a nice enough drive. He actually wanted to drive this time instead of stalking through the woods in search of tree gates. Somehow, it felt more official. Getting in the truck and going to see Mom. And it wasn't like he was alone! So after a couple of hours of loud, terrible-on-purpose singing, they arrived.

Maurice ducked quickly onto the porch and crouched down to get the key out from under the little stone cherub seated on the front step. Margret had left a pot of soup on the counter for them and a detailed feeding schedule for the cats--all of which seemed to be piled on Maurice's parents' bed. A god in the house? Pfffff. They were cats.

And what did you do when your parents weren't home and wouldn't be home for quite some time? CHECK OUT WHERE THE FUCK THEY HID THE CHRISTMAS PRESENTS. That was their current quest. He had to know what his folks were getting the kids so he could get some idea of what they even liked these days. He hadn't seen them in forever.

Maurice steadied himself on the wooden attic ladder. It creaked under his boots and he bit his lip.

"Y'know, I don't think this thing is gonna handle me...she always makes Dad squirrel around up there."