𝙲 𝙷 𝙴 𝚁 𝚁 𝚈

17

13:22

SATURDAY

SANTA CARLA

LADDIE.

"You're kidding, right?" I'm quick with my tongue when Sam presses on the brakes behind the handlebars and begins to demount the bike.

I stumble from my stance behind him and he throws the cycle to the light mustard-colored path before responding, "Trust me. These guys are professionals."

"Professionals. Of what exactly?" Sarcasm drips from my tone as I unwillingly follow him through the doors, "And you couldn't have told me that this urgent business was to go to the fucking comic book store?"

"Would you have still come if I did?" He turns with his ashy blonde brows raised above the eyes that he shares with his mother, his tongue resting between parted lips as it usually did.

"Of course not."

"Then that's why I didn't tell ya." This time, he smirks and my irritation towards the boy heightens, "Come on."

I grumble from beneath my breath as my face filters down to nothing but annoyance and I stomp into the comic book store. My nose is greeted with that same smell of freshly printed paper and as I wander further toward the middle of the center aisle, the two boys that I had met earlier last week come waltzing from a door behind the counter and passed the two sleeping sacks leaning against each other. I begin to wonder whether the man and woman dressed in hippy attire really are alive.

"Those your folks?" I question just like I did on the day that I met them, the side of my lips turning up into a faint smirk, "Really look like they love their job."

"Yeah?" Responds the one with the memorable face and red bandana, "And where are your folks?"

If I wasn't topped up on my medication, his comment would have angered me, "In the basement back home, I buried them alive. That's why I'm here, I'm on the run."

My brows raise as I speak in a taunting tone; it's obvious that they know I am joking, though he fails to let his defenses down and is quick to comment, "You're a sick fuck."

"And you're no fun." This time, I chuckle and lean against a table closest to me; the three of them gather around the one opposite me.

"Enough joking around, we've got a serious situation," Sam speaks rather sternly before reaching into the grey backpack over his shoulder.

He pulls out a rolled-up book filled with an assortment of colors; red, yellow, orange, and green. I watch him as he flips through the pages like a madman, before slapping the now-opened pages on the table.

"It's Max." He announces, his back facing me and the two boys that own the store gaze at him, "He's the head vampire."

I shake my head, "Are you shitting me?"

My comment reaches deaf ears when neither of them looks over at me.

"You sure of it?" The second boy with much darker hair and a slimmer face is next to speak.

I cross my arms over my chest and stare at them in disbelief.

"My mum and I visited his place this morning. His dog chased her down and attacked her just like the hounds of hell!" Sam exclaims, hitting his palms down on the table in exaggeration, "Sarah was there, she even punched it in the face!"

Both boys lift their gaze over towards me, "This true?"

"Well, yeah." I speak, unsure of what exactly to respond with, "It doesn't mean that vampires exist though. It was just a protective dog."

"Exactly."

"You punched a dog in the face?"

"I had to do something." The room grows thick momentarily before Sam perks up once again.

"We gotta do something."

"I agree."

"We can run some tests?"

"My mum invited him to dinner tonight, we can do it then."

I huff out a sarcastic laugh and shake my head for what seems like the one hundredth time today, "Come on guys, it's Lucy's night. Don't ruin it for her."

Sam's head snaps towards me, "Yeah and it'll be ruined when my mum's vampire bate!"

"You're out of your fucking mind."

Once again, I am dismissed when Sam turns back to the two other boys, "Don't worry about her, she'll understand when she sees."

A warmth in the pit of my stomach begins to grow and I begin to feel the need to dismiss myself; I become angered that Sam has bought me across town for something as humorous as this and I jump off of the table that I am perched on, "I'm leaving."

"Make sure you're back home tonight, we've got shit to do," Sam exclaims, clearly displeased with the fact that I am not staying to organize a plan as foolish as this one.

"Who else is gonna make sure that you don't do anything dumb?" I fire back, shaking my head and removing myself from the comic book store.

The afternoon sun shoots its vicious rays down onto my city girl skin and I wipe away the fresh layer of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. The crowd swells around the fairground as it usually does, though not even close to how chaotic it is during the night. I was quick to realize that Santa Carla was a town that favors the nightlife, though I couldn't help but feel as if I am deprived of the sun since living in new york. I watch as a middle-aged woman with a body shaped similar to a mushroom steadily walks passed me, a cinnamon-colored pomeranian following limply behind. I find my mind wondering whether its paws were okay as it shuffles behind its owner; The ground must be like lava under this torturous heat. Instead of standing in growing guilt, I decided that it is beyond my control and instead I shove my hands into my jeans pockets. I begin walking along the boardwalk in hopes of finding a small off-brand clothing store, these jean shorts have had their time in the spotlight and the need for a change-up eats at me. As if my thoughts are heard, a second-hand clothing shop reveals itself to me from the right and although it is nothing dazzling to stare at, I find myself standing in front of its entrance anyways. My blood runs cold when my eyes greet the battered missing person poster that is carelessly taped just above the door handle; I let go of a breath that I don't realize I am holding. The date states much earlier than the time that I first arrived in Santa Carla.

Laddie.

I kick off into a sprint back down the boardwalk, forgetting the clothing shop that I desperately desired before.