The Nosferatu Adventures
page 40, chapter 40
Rolf filled both Ash and Reuben in on the vision he'd had, as they sat in the warmth of the cabin, another storm blowing outside.
"So where are they? Any clue as to what happened to them?" Reuben asked flicking the pencil he was holding in his left hand, as he stood up from the kitchen table, stretching before heading towards the fireplace. "Got any charcoal?"
"No clue man." Rolf answered, as he got himself a cup of coffee. The large male leaned in over the kitchen table, looking at the drawing his buddy was working on. "That's a really great drawing of Nosferatu." he commented pointing his coffee cup at the sheet of paper. Reuben stood staring at the larger man. "Since when you left handed?"
"I'm not, I'm right...handed...I can't draw." he replied still holding the pencil in his left hand, still twirling it.
"The King was left handed, and he drew all the time. Painted too." Ash said as he reached across the table, grabbing the page. "Let me see that." Ash examined the drawing for a few long seconds pointing to a small mark in the corner. "And this is how he would sign it. Looks like a squiggle, but it's his initials." The older wolf looked over at Reuben his mouth open. "I think we might have to make a trip to the Fort."
Meanwhile...
Bryon lifted the arm of our heroine letting it flop back down on the table. "Shame." he said chewing a piece of mint leaf. "She could have been fun."
Victor smiled, nodding. "Oh yeah." he raised an eyebrow. "She was." He rotated his shoulders cracking his neck the same way Dagan does, and told Bryon to implant the electrodes into the pressure points of our heroine's feet and hands. "Okay, let's wake her up." he adjusted the small machine he'd created, sending a bolt of electricity through the rods and into the needles. He counted to three then turned it off, waiting. He checked her eyes, but didn't see any thing to indicate success. Victor cranked it again, sending another bolt through her, again counting to three before turning it off. This time, when he checked her eyes they had turned pure white of the banshee. He gave a small grin, as he waited. He nodded to Bryon and said one more time.
The scream that ripped from our heroine caused both men to cover their ears falling to the floor. She sat up slowly, nearly rolling off the table. "I'm going to ..." her words were cut as she vomited over the edge of the table. "My chest hurts." our heroine rolled back onto the table, on her back both hands at her chest. "oh my god! What did you do to me?" she felt the scar that ran across her chest.
"You were dead. My nephew killed you."
"That's nothing new." she commented. "Oh hey, scars fading. Gotta love that vampire healing power." she started reaching for the needles trying to remove them. "Little help here. Need to get up and return the favour to that over grown furball." Bryon helped our heroine hanging onto her elbow as she got up from the table."Um...clothes would be nice." she commented grabbing the sheet they had wrapped her in. She tugged it around her, tucking the top corner in under the arms. Bryon smiled at her, still chewing on the mint leaf.
"Thought you might end up waking up zombied. I like zombies." he said grinning as he guided her to the stairs, still holding onto her as she started to climb them. "I got ya." he whispered, as our heroine found herself tangled up in the sheet falling sideways.
"I was never that graceful before all this death. Even worse now."
"I still got ya."
Dagan was passed out on the floor in front of his bedroom, his feet straight up against the wall, his arms out over his head like he'd fallen. Our heroine kicked him in the ribs hard, waking him up.
Turning his eyes up to glare at her, he snarled snapping his teeth. "See, I knew you weren't dead-dead yet." he mumbled as he rolled over getting to a kneeling position. "Everyone was like in a panic cause you were bleeding a tiny bit and had a few scratches. Nothing serious." he stood to his full height stretching, his eyes wide.
Dagan shocked her as he grabbed her, pulling her in for a hug.
Our heroine slapped him, then shoved him. "What's your obsession with killing me?" she asked as he crushed her not letting go of the hug.
"What's your obsession with dying on me?" his voice took on an innocent tone. "And you just don't seem to want to stay dead. You are like some sort of bird what are those birds that burst into flames and still live? The ones that are like reborn constantly?" he asked letting go of the hug finally; waving his arms out at his sides like wings. "I mean, I ripped your heart out and still..." he pointed to her chest where the wound had been. "...still you keep on coming back for more. You just don't go away." She gathered up the end of the sheet she was wrapped up in, and moved from him going into the bedroom. "What are you doing?"
"Going away." she answered not bothering to look at him. "I need clothes." she said turning around. "Owe." our heroine brought her hand up to her nose. She had smacked into the tall male, hitting her nose on his shoulder. "I don't like you." the words were a rush of breath, barely a whisper.
"That's a lie." he leaned on the door frame, biting his lower lip. A grunt escaped his throat as he towered over her, his eyes half closed. "Are you going to tell me why you did what you did back there few hours ago?" he took a step into the room closing the door leaning on it his arms crossed over his chest.
She shrugged. "Seemed like a really good idea at the time." she followed suit, crossing her arms staring back at him, tired of his ego.
"But why Victor?"
"There's just something about him." her features softened as she thought about the other man, remembered his kiss, the strange way she had found herself completely compelled to follow him into the room. Unable to resist his voice.
Tilting his body so that he was leaning over her, still with his arms crossed over his chest Dagan whispered in her ear. "I look just like my uncle." he sniffed her hair, moving his nose down her neck to the hollow at her throat, catching something new in her scent. "Only he weighs about five pounds more then me and is as pale as snow."
"So he's you, only better." she said, her tongue darting out over his cheek, startling him. Turning back towards the interior of the room, our heroine headed for the bathroom running a shower.
"I'm not done talking to you." he said following her to the bathroom door.
"I'm done listening. I'm done with your ego, I'm done with your freaky mood swings, with your alpha wolf insecurities, and I'm done with your..." she gestured towards him as he stood there shoulders hunched neck slightly extended, his mouth drawn up in a snarl. "...dude, we're not even friends." her voice fell to a whisper.
He shrugged closing his eyes. When he opened them again, they were the amber-grey of the werewolf as he nodded backing away from the bathroom door slowly, every step laced with what seemed like physical pain. He made a sound that was neither human or completely animalistic, as he ran his hand through his hair fixing it.
tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me (another straight up story. ...anyone else feel like giving Dagan a hug?)
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