Chase Chest ~True Blood ~Eric Northman

~Mr. Nobody comes to town~

A/N : Hello lovely readers. So the last chapter was private and not many people read it. This one is finally finished and I hope that you'll do enjoy it as much as I did. Can't wait to read your comments trubies. Do vote and follow if you want to guys. :*

 P.S. This chapter introduces new characters, for whom you'll get to know more soon. I hope it's likeable. It's a crossover with the TV series HEX. We will be meeting Azazel soon I assume.

                                                                        Title : Mr. Nobody

Third Person's POV

 The sky is still jet black and only the first rays of the sun are reluctantly invading through the thick layer of the furious clouds, shaping a vast army on the sky. It's only five o'clock in the morning in the state of Texas. The streets are empty, the mere sound of a dog barking in the distance covers the shallow sound of silence all around.

 The first timid drizzles make their presence evident due to their impact with the cold , hard pavement and the few people walking by are carelessly spilling the tiny  rain spatters all around. And the hectic noise is escalating swiftly, just like the rhythm in a broken , old musical instrument.

The quick gasp of the wind dances away from the walking crowd and charmingly yet eerily travels through the sideways reaching an old block of flats in the suburbs of Dallas.

The block of flats is old and seems abandoned...

However, there is an apartment in that block of flats that indicates signs of life. The walls are dark blue and dusty, the furniture not even giving the illusion of filling the huge room. A double bed with black silk covers neatly done. A wooden nightstand with weird ancient like books covering the whole surface messily. A Persian carpet on the floor with drops of blood. Then in the corner of the room there is a puffy couch in bloody red accommodating an expensive black tuxedo and random keys.

The wooden floor, where it's not covered by the expensive carpet has an i-Pod slowly blasting a rhythmic song. The song fills the stodgy atmosphere of the room with the following lyrics.

"I cant seem to face up to the facts. I'm tense and nervous and I can't relax. I can't sleep cause my bed's on fire, don't touch me I'm a real life wire. Psycho Killer qu'est-que  c'est?"

And there is suddenly a male figure laying on the floor and doing sit-ups. He is wearing black trousers, that hug his muscular body efficiently. He has no top on nor shoes. Sweat dripping from his tensed forehead as he counts his sit-ups and keeps going.

"Argh hundred and five, hundred and six."

He lets out while exhaling deeply. He is tall, with fair skin and honey colored spiky hair. Haunting, gleamy green eyes and thick brows. The song is almost over when it is connected with growling and banging coming from what could possibly compare to a beast from the sealed door across him. He on the other side resembles an angel.

He stands up and wipes the sweat from his forehead with his wrist.

"Shut up you freaking nephilim. You should be glad I haven't eliminated your ass yet."

The stranger calls out and all of a sudden silence fills the room. He sits on the  marble corner of the window and examines the skyline.

"It's finally bloody time. We have a war to attend Terry" 

He says to the goofy dog that is sleeping under the bed. He reaches for his pocket and retrieves the cell phone a minute before it starts ringing. Bizarre enough.