Dara, Page, and the Secrets of the Multiverse

▷ 3.5

"I'm telling you, Officer." Dara tapped a hand on the laminated table. "This man came to me while my car's tire was blown out and offered me a place to stay. Then, he tried to kill me. He was still out there, and I don't know if he's alive, but he—"

The uniformed man from behind the desk couldn't have looked more bored. "Let me guess, he tried to pull that Dracula shit on you?" he asked. The dark circles underneath his eyes should have told Dara to beat it. But it wasn't like Dara had any other options. "I know, sir. You have told us twice in the last thirty minutes."

Which checked out with the version of events in Dara's recent memory. Long after he stumbled out of Page's property, he trekked across the town until the blinding lights and the sign POLICE greeted him in the horizon. His adrenaline ran out a few minutes ago, reminding him of his battered ribs, aching limbs, and stinging soles. Running anywhere barefoot wasn't a recommended activity, especially if the road still hasn't cooled from a whole day of baking under the desert sun.

Dara ripped through the station and found the first officer willing to listen to his complaint. This was the worst detour ever. He wasn't going back to New Herestead. Never again.

"Get a search party or an armed unit there," Dara demanded for the second time since coming here. The other officers inside the station looked at him as if he was the criminal. Well, with bloodied hands, disheveled hair, and still in his muddy pajamas, he might as well be the vampire. "I stabbed the guy in the neck, but who knows if he's really dead."

"You...stabbed a person in the neck?" The officer clarified, hand creeping towards the cuffs on the desk.

Dara shook his head. "It's a vampire, Officer. It attacked me and all that." He snapped his fingers when the term came to him. "Self-defense! Yeah, it was self-defense. Ask him yourself. If you get an armed unit there—"

"How can he tell us if he's got a gash 'round his neck?" the Officer said.

"He's a vampire," Dara answered as if it was the most obvious thing in this case.

The Officer threw his hands up with a groan. "Aaand, we're back to where we started."

Dara opened his mouth, but a hand clamped down his shoulder. His heart leaped to his throat. Did Page find him? Already? "Let me take this case, Officer," a new voice rumbled overhead. Dara looked up to find a tall man with a week-old stubble and a wide-brim hat covering most of his features. The shadows of the night and the flickering light in the station's lobby weren't helping either.

"Detective Gray, nice seeing you up and about," the Officer said, nodding in the newcomer's direction.

"I assure you, Officer. The elements are more active around these hours. Hence, I must join them," the detective answered. He turned to Dara. "Now, about the case?"

A chair grated against the station's tiles. Perhaps, this was the only establishment in this backwater town capable of having such a luxury? The dirt from Page's shed still hasn't fallen away from Dara's nail beds.

"Well." The officer exhaled through this nostrils and slid his unoccupied chair closer to his desk. "I'll lend you a room. You can continue the investigation there."

The detective ducked his head again, the hand on Dara's shoulder tightening. "Thank you, Officer," he said. Giving Dara's shoulder a small tap, he muttered, "Let's go."

With no options left, Dara stood up. He felt himself being hauled away from the complaints desk. The detective led him past an array of grailed cells. A metal door with a small, railed rectangle greeted him a few seconds later. An interrogation room? What...why?

The hinges whined when the detective yanked the door open and ushered Dara inside. After a few seconds, the door closed behind them with a hearty click. The detective gestured to the lone monoblock chair behind a metal table. "Can I get a name, please?" the detective said, striding towards the table, leaving Dara by the door.

"Who the hell are you?" Dara fired.

The detective's nostrils flared but dug a card from the breast pocket of his trench coat. "Detective Constantine Gray," he said. "A paranormal investigator working on cases involving the creatures of the night."

Oh.

Dara followed his orders and sank into the chair. The detective flashed him a quick, approving expression. "Name?" he prompted again.

"Dara," he blurted, still reeling from what he had just heard. New Herestead was as bollocks as a dream about dancing cows. A vampire and a vampire hunter? Should he get tested for brain injuries? "And...you'll take my case?" he asked, uncertainty coloring his tone.

Detective Gray gestured to the chair. "Start from the top, Mr. Dara," he said. "We don't have all night."

He pursed his lips. He would most certainly miss his family's itinerary in full now. His spine straightened as he opened his mouth and said, "It started when my car's tire blew up."