Thursday, February 4, 2016

The Nosferatu Adventures s10 p2

The Nosferatu Adventures
page 250, chapter 250

Out of Time

She stood in the hallway of the apartment building, her eyes closed, breathing through her mouth. Our heroine was doing all she could not to turn around, break down the nearest door and rip out the throat of the three occupants. Their blood was deafening to her. The sound like waves crashing against rocks echoing in the hallows of her mind. And the smell! She could tell there was a window open in the apartment behind her, a breeze coming westward through the place and waffling up under the locked door. It carried not just the salty briny copper of blood, but the hot stickiness of the caramel popcorn someone was eating. The sugar singing it's song to her senses, making the blood that much more inviting. Clearing her throat, our heroine tightened her grip on the leather strap of her bag, as she forced herself to move ahead.  Instinctively her right hand shot out to touch the wall, as she dragged her fingertips across it marking her territory.  That was until she arrived at her destination.

The smell of wet dog had been strong all the way up the street, but once she found herself at the parking lot of the building, she knew this was where she was suppose to be. Never mind the fact Roger had been pacing back and forth outside the place, a set of keys nervously clutched in his sweaty palm.  Our heroine had stuck out her tongue twice as if tasting a furball, the area permeated with the scent of werewolf.  Not just any werewolf, The Seer.  She swallowed hard as she breathed out slowly, cracking her neck and rotating her one shoulder. Her insides were jelly as she felt a rush clutching at her guts. Part of her wanted nothing more than to jump into The Seer's arms, the other part to rip his throat out.

The look on Roger's face when he spotted our heroine had turn the corner, stepping off the sidewalk and onto the parking lot, was pure relief.  He had called the office not more then an hour before asking if she could meet him, that he was very worried about Edward's behaviour.  Roger continued to ramble on about how he found him sitting in a ball in the corner of the room, his hands taped up with duct tape. He then handed her another drawing, it was crumpled and drawn in mustard. Her lips turned up in a smirk as she remembered the mustard drawing Leo had done a decade before. Following Roger into the building, our heroine felt her fangs begin to pulse.

Now, she stood in the hallway,fighting the urge to rip into the neighbours, Roger wiping at the sweat beading around his collar as he unlocked the door, peering into the darkness. He called out to Edward unaware that our heroine had taken a large step backward. The heavy scent of a sweaty unbathed lycanthrope nearly knocked her not just against the wall, but triggered a shiver as it seemed to course through her.  Roger leaned back into the hallway gesturing to her that it was okay to follow him into the apartment. Clearing her throat, our heroine let out another deep breath as she tried to shrug off the electric feeling that was clinging to her. Then it hit her as clear as day.

Our heroine was back across the length of the hallway, crumpled against the fire exist. Breathing heavily, she slammed her fist into the wall, hearing a crack, as the plaster fractured a few inches. "Loki!" she hissed under her breath. Getting up she brushed the dirt off of her jeans, as she stormed back over to the doorway. Pressing her palm up against the invisible barrier, she snarled her eyes flashing the amber-grey of the wolf.  Loki had used his magick to put an anti-vampire spell in place. Not only was Nosferatu not able to get in, but that meant because of his sidhe side, The Seer couldn't leave either.

But this wasn't the worst of our heroine's worries. Two things seemed to happen simultaneously. Roger's eyes became wide, his mouth opened in disbelief; and the neighbour at the end of the hall came home.

"What the? What are you?" Roger asked frozen in place just millimeters from her on the darkened side of the apartment doorway.

"It's you. What are you doing here?" a voice said just as surprised but in a completely different tone. As Arthur Holmwood shifted position, his keys in one hand, a bag of groceries in the other, and a very large file under his arm, our heroine turned just enough to glare at him from the corner of her eye before running out of the building. The heavy glass door crashed into the wall of buzzers as she shoved it open with barely a nudge. Her shoes crunching the now broken glass as she moved down the parking lot.  Her eyes closed once again, the female breathed in sharp gulps of air, a sound escaping her throat that wasn't quite a human huff and not quite a growl either. She had to get out of there, the feeling was building up too much.
There was so much rage. She had no idea where it was coming from, but it was everywhere. Filling her mind, forcing her body to move without knowing where she was. Our heroine's natural instincts took over, as she breathed in sharply, sniffing the air for something familiar to latch on to. Before long, she found herself at the occult shop, having picked up Rufus's scent.

She said nothing as she entered, walking past Rufus and Matilda, her eyes shifting to the pure white of the banshee, her double row of fangs dripping with saliva, ignoring the two teenaged customers that were there for a tarot reading, dropping her leather bag as she headed towards the basement. It wasn't until she was in the middle of the room, surrounded by boxes and stacks of unpacked herbs, statues and books, that she finally gave in.  The sound was deafening as a scream ravaged her vocal cords breaking the windows of the occult shop's small kitchen, shattering a few glass bottles their liquid spilling and splattering everywhere, merchandise ruined. As our heroine fell to her knees,she continued to breath in hot gasps sucking in mouthfuls of dust and stale air. Turning, the female crawled towards the stairs, forcing herself to a standing position, climbing them.

Leaning in the basement threshold, still half transformed, long strains of clear saliva dripping from her bottom lip as she finally began to speak. "Someone call the cops. We need to report a death...more then one, about two blocks away." she sniffed wiping her wrist over her mouth. "I felt it as I was on my way here."  A short fit of mad laughter caused her to smile towards the two customers as they stood in shock and fear. "Hi."

Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your (straight up story. Well, her appearance is a shock to everybody.)

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