Sunday, April 29, 2018

The Nosferatu Adventures s13 p4

The Nosferatu Adventures 
page 334, chapter 334

Out of Time

Our heroine sniffed as she waited for the coffee maker to finish. The scent of the hot liquid almost too much for her overly sensitive nose. A pencil sticking out of the top of a journal on the edge of the kitchen counter grabbed her attention, as if it were taunting her to read it. Opening the thin coiled bound book, she was taken aback at the drawing. There, staring back at her in deep embers of charcoal and lead was none other than Bryon. Grabbing the book she sniffed deeply pressing her nose to the pages; the coffee still overpowering her nose. "Seward!" she screamed. "Seward!" dropping the journal back down on the counter, the female banshee moved throughout the house at a speed that was a blur to a human. Knocking rapidly on the bathroom door she growled through her double row of fangs. "Seward, why is there a picture of Bryon in your journal?" she impatiently began to pace outside of the bathroom, her mind unable to focus.  The dark haired human male opened the bathroom door, dripping from his shower, tightly holding a towel around him.

"What?" he asked trying not to slip from the puddles forming around his feet from him rushing out of the shower.

"Your journal. Why is there a picture of Bryon?"

"Who's Bryon?" he asked squinting his eyes nearly closed as he squeezed past her towards his room.

"The guy you were drawing."

"Drawing...oh you mean the guy from my dream?" he shrugged as he started to struggle with a pair of boxers. Which were starting to stick to him as he hadn't bother to dry himself; our heroine standing in the doorway of his bedroom her hazel eyes wide in what he believed to be panic. "One of the guys anyways." he said not bothering to look over his shoulder. He knew he'd find the female banshee nearly on tiptoes pressed tight to the invisible barrier, as he had not invited her into his room. The thought gave him power. "That's his name? So he's real?" stepping into a pair of jeans, he finally tossed the towel into the hamper as he moved back into the hallway, causing our heroine to follow like a puppy.

"Yes. Bryon. He pretty much runs the Frankenstein estates. Victor's right hand man." she replied gesturing wildly with both hands. "Wait a minute. You said one of. There was more?"

"Another dark haired guy, well werewolf actually."

"Short hair, long hair, beard?" she reached out grabbing the human by the shoulder spinning him around to face her. Seward was confused about how she could do that but thought she'd fill him in when she wasn't so panicked.

"Short hair spiked. They both had spiked hair. No, no beards." Seward was starting to get the deja vu feeling again he'd had from the dream. "I drew him too." he said gesturing for her to follow him back to the kitchen. Taking the journal he flipped back a few pages, showing her his other drawings.

"Shack. That's Maxwell." she sighed as she began pacing around the male. "What's this?" she asked pointing first to the throne then the paw.

"I saw the Bryon guy sitting on this throne in this crazy mirrored room, the other guy's reflection though in the mirrors, and there was this severed paw but it didn't have anything to do with the rest of the dream...I don't think?" he scratched at the back of his skull doubting himself. "You're going to tell me it does though aren't you?"

"What kind of paw?"

"Panther I think."

"Dax, he is a familiar, who..." she tilted her head to the side.

"was a panther." They both said in unison.

"Why didn't Vlad say anything about this?" she pointed now to the picture of Maxwell. "He knew him too."

"I haven't shown these to anyone." Seward replied casually. "So...what does all this mean? Cause I'm not the psychic. Landin is."

"Landin is what?" Edric asked as he came into the Van Helsing house from the back door. He'd been out for a run when our heroine had gotten home.

"Psychic." our heroine said mindlessly. "We'll finish this conversation at a later time." she added quickly as the sandy-blonde male hybrid walked over to her, practically shoving Seward out of the way, wrapping his arms around her tight. He gave his mate a squeeze as he sniffed her neck still not liking the fact her scent was still different. Turning her face from him, our heroine recoiled slightly, lifting her shoulders as if to slip out of his touch. "And we'll finish this after you shave that disgusting thing off your face."

"You really hate the beard that much?" Edric stared at her, his blue eyes displaying half amusement half confusion.

"Yes. It's gross." she pushed her palms gently against his shoulders trying to keep him at bay.

"It's a beard. It's hair. Half werewolf remember it grows triple the speed of a human's..."

"I don't like it. I want it gone." she continued to recoil in his arms.

"Ruthven has a beard. Vlad has a beard and you aren't yelling at them."  Edric remarked.

"Vlad's is kept. Vlad looks like a young hip daytime soap star."

"Oh I've been taping Bold and the Beautiful for you." Seward interrupted cheerfully the coffee pot in hand.

"Yours looks like farm animals live in it." she turned her face to the other side as Edric continued to plant kisses on her cheek, smirking. 

"Leaving a neagtive impact on you is it?" he pointed to his face his fingers spread wide gesturing to encompass the beard. "See if there are any cows or chickens trapped in this ball of fuzz?" he continued to tease her. His smile bright and heartbreakingly genuine.

"There was that one time you had those fruity-o's cereal stuck in it." Seward commented as he continued towards the back door with a cup of coffee. "Like all day and you didn't even notice."

Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your up story. Why do beautiful men grow such gross facial pets?)

Sunday, April 22, 2018

Cinema Files s1 p5

Cinema Files
page 5, chapter 5

Sun-dried Slapstick

I stood in my kitchen just after 11:30pm, a half eaten cupcake in one hand, a fistful of thumbtacks in the other. The events of the last few days were wedged into my brain with little room for anything else. So much in fact, I had decided to piece together as much of the puzzle as I could. Hence the thumbtacks. I had laid out on the kitchen table, a bunch of recipe cards, and before I could even consider putting ink to them, there was a knock at my door.  I found Rudolph standing there dressed in dark jeans, cowboy boots, a black dress shirt and leather jacket. I felt more than sheepish in my own sweatpants and t-shirt that were in fact my pajamas.

"You look comfy." he smiled at me, raising his eyebrows in unison causing his grey eyes to sparkle. He hovered in the doorway both hands over his head, all his weight it seemed in his wrists as he leaned in just an inch.

"You going out?" I realized I was still holding both the cupcake and the thumbtacks. Sidestepping, I dropped them all down on the cutting board in the kitchen as he shook his head still smirking.

"I mean, I was thinking about it. Then I realized, I haven't got a single clue as to where one might go in this city to go out." he shrugged too innocently to actually be taken innocently.

"So you decided to knock on my door instead?" my eyes shifted first to my sad looking half eaten cupcake with the shinny stack of thumbtacks beside it, then to the kitchen table a few feet away where my empty recipe cards were waiting; before being drawn back towards Rudolph.  He followed my gaze.

"What you doing with that?" he gestured towards the thumbtacks. "Midnight snack?" he gave another smirk. I stammered as a slight tint hit my cheeks, unable to come up with a good lie.

"The investigation, which by the way, we're not suppose to talk about. Got me thinking." I moved then towards the kitchen table distracted, failing to notice Rudolph pick up my half eaten treat until he was holding it near my mouth. Taking it from him, I watched him proceed to lick the icing off his thumb. I felt my stomach flip as he did, and another wave of a blush heat my face. Turning from him, I grabbed the pen and a few of the naked recipe cards, jotting down what we knew so far. Taking a half step back on my heel, I debated if I should let him know about my aunt's storage unit? I ended up telling him but left out the part about the scandalous dvd.

"Is that what was in the container you were carrying last night when we met?"  Nodding, I pointed to the large bin of files. "Is it okay?" the dark haired male asked as he halfway leaned towards it eager to get his hands on the pages."I've seen this before." he ran his finger then across the top of some of my aunt's files, referring to the little red stars she had added. "One of the assignments they want me to do, is connected to an old police investigation being reopened. The reporter who had been interviewing the suspect in the case, had added these markings to some notes."

"Which case?" I asked tacking up the recipe cards to a framed corkboard in the corner of my kitchen.  His grey eyes were cast downward not looking at the page in his hands anymore, as he licked his lips, his mind elsewhere for the briefest second.

"The tomato factory." he quickly replied. I caught the faintest hint of embarrassment in Rudolph's posture as he pulled back a few centimeters to lean back at the waist, his arms now crossed.

"I saw something about that..." digging through a small stack of newspaper clippings, I found the photos of the crime scene. "Two dead in an accident." It did have some of my aunt's red stars near the date. "Five years ago." I said mindlessly as I tacked it to the corkboard. "I heard some of the regulars at the coffee shop talking about that last week. Something about rezoning it or something?"

"Hmm." Rudolph grunted more to himself than in reply to me. He still stood there as if on guard like my kitchen was a threat to him. It took me a moment to realize he was deep in thought over the sudden evidence board we were creating haphazardly. "Tomato sauce sounds good right about now actually." the sentence was nearly a whisper as I watched him; his grey eyes shifting back and forth in sweeping gestures over the corkboard, a sudden squint wrinkling his eyebrows.

"You still interested in going out?" I found myself changing the subject without putting much thought to the weight of my question. He nodded his attention on me again. "Give me a few minutes to change and we'll go to Bacchus's Vineyard."  I hurried, grabbing the first pair of clean jeans I could find, cursed myself for not having done laundry all week, and proceeded to find a reasonably clean shirt. I subconsciously wanted to match Rudolph's outfit, without matching his outfit. I ended up in a pair of dark flared jeans, a black bell-sleeved silk shirt and my black clutch purse. Walking out of my bedroom, I saw Rudolph tuck his cell phone into his pocket quickly.
We walked into the Vineyard less than fifteen minutes later as Rudolph assessed the situation trying not to slam into any of the drunk university students that were everywhere. I watched as he closed his eyes for a brief half second, breathing deeply the scent of fresh pasta, garlic bread and briny olives. He had been playing with the zipper on his leather jacket the last few minutes of the walk over, clearly focused on something else he wasn't willing to share. But the second we stepped foot in the place, he dropped his hands letting his shoulders relax. The building was broken into two sections, the left of it a sports bar, the right a family style restaurant. We stood at the threshold of each waiting to be seated. The hostess was a short blonde who's uniform was too tight for her to breathe, in heels that were too dangerous to be wearing in the dimly lit building. She licked her lips when she spotted Rudolph, flicking her hair before asking which side of the building we wanted to be on, her hand hovered over the menus. Her fingers seemed to twitch out of instinct over the bar side's menu as if expecting no other option.

"This side is fine." he pointed to the restaurant. "I want to be able to talk."  It ironically, ended up not being any quieter than the bar side.  The hostess returned to our table three times before our server ever showed, to see if Rudolph had changed his mind. I was of course invisible. 

Tune in again for another installment of Cinema Files starring your up story. Just an innocent midnight snack?)

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Coffee Talk April 21st 2018

Spudguns! How's it where you are right now? Spiffy. 

I have to admit, I'm actually looking forward to a few of the coming attractions for the next few months. Hotel Transylvania 3, being at the top of the list for me.  Ocean's Eight, Life of the Party, Book Club, Deadpool 2, Star Wars Solo, and Tully, all have caught my attention.

I'm working on next month's theme at the moment, which I'm sure most of you have already figured out what it is, as it ties in with my hosting Foodn'Flix next month.  And as always, I'll have the official announcement for that on May 1st.

Honestly, I didn't have a whole lot to write about today, just thought we needed something to buffer between the stories, as that's all I've been writing on here the last few months. 

Till later. 

Sunday, April 15, 2018

The Nosferatu Adventures s13 p3

The Nosferatu Adventures
page 333, chapter 333

Out of Time

Our heroine leaned on the edge of the bathroom sink, refusing to face her own reflection in the hotel mirror. She had sent Vlad back to the Van Helsing house, telling him to let the others know she'd be back in a day or so. She just needed time to herself after everything. Not like she figured they would listen. She figured she'd get five hours maybe six tops before they decided to hunt her down.

Head down, head down, don't look up, don't... too late, she raised her eyes just enough to catch the gaze of her other self in the mirror.  "Don't!" she warned herself. "It's done. Don't get squeamish now!"

"But it's not is it?" her reflection said back. "You still haven't lived up to your promise. Your end of the deal. Dax..."

"Dax can continue to wait." she argued with herself, closing her eyes now on the mirror. Turning her back she sighed as she began to get undressed. A cold shower should do the trick, shock her back to normal. She sniffed loudly. "Right normal. Normal. Let's just get back to being..." she let out a deep sigh under her breath, afraid her reflection was listening. "...back to what?"

"Hiding from your mate Edric?" the reflection retorted causing a shiver down our heroine's spine. "Oh do that! Let's scream for Vlad to come back huh? He can hear you, bet he's not even settled in back home yet? Bet he's just a few blocks away still."

It was that easy to connect with him. She didn't have to say she needed him, didn't have to say anything other than think very loudly about her ex husband and the image in front of her. The image of her shivering in fear as her own reflection mocked her.  Vlad arrived knocking on the hotel door a few moments later.
He said nothing as he stood there in the doorway, not needing an invitation, but waiting for one just the same. Our heroine stood wrapped in a large towel, her skin still wet with steam and scented soap as she let him in the room.

"So, it's happening again is it? " Vlad whispered. His voice barely caught on the air, as if afraid to speak any louder. As if the wrong movement would upset the very balance of the fabric of time. Nosferatu just nodded as she moved around the room, closing the blinds and curtains. Once they were in total darkness, only then did she dare to think. At first, they had thought it a ghost, or a spell, and after awhile, that she was simply loosing her mind completely. But the symptom was the same every time, and a complete realization of her own guilt. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, had caused our heroine to hallucinate her very conscience.

"Harvey's back."  our heroine mumbled as she got under the covers of the soft hotel bed. Vlad raised his hand pointing a finger then at the television set.

"I finally understand why you called it that." he replied referring to the character on the tv show Farscape. "What do you think your Harvey wants this time?" he stood for a long pause at the foot of the bed, this time not waiting for any kind of invitation, just begun getting undressed and climbing in beside her. Our heroine hadn't even realized she'd gotten into the side of the bed she used to when she was still married to Vlad.

"I'm suppose to give someone the book." Nosferatu tried not to look at him. "The guy who helped me with my portal home. Dax. He's a familiar. He knew about me having the spellbook that belonged to The Seer's grandmother. I'm suppose to open a portal and express mail it to him."  Vlad made a grunting sound as he fixed the pillow under his neck.

"That will never happen." turning to look at her from over his shoulder. "We no longer have it. I sent the one off with Quentin, and the grandmother's one I had your mate Edric take it somewhere safe."

"You what!" she sat bolt upright in the bed, the sheets puddling around her naked body. "You gave my book away?" she got out of bed in a fit of rage, finding the clothes she'd left piled on the floor earlier, fighting to fit into them. "The most powerful spellbook in the two known universes and you just tossed it out?"

"Settle down. I didn't toss it out. I sent it somewhere safe where the coven couldn't find it. Both of them actually. And it's not your's is it? It's The Seer's grandmother's." Vlad grabbed her wrists, guiding her back to the bed, gesturing for her to get back in.

"Technically it's mine. I saved the spellbook when The Seer was possessed by Pan." she sat down on the edge of the bed again, her gaze catching on the framed map on the wall. "It's so weird you know." standing back up, our heroine walked over to the map, gesturing first to the very edge of  British Columbia, up through the Yukon to Nunavut then down across to the the lower edge of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia to the tip of Newfoundland. "Too see this here like this. I'm so used to the maps back in the other reality. All this Rolf's kingdom. And this here..." she pointed now to the province of Ontario. "The Darkest Forest. Right in the middle of it all."  Nosferatu smacked the wall lightly with the back of her knuckles under the edge of the map's frame. "And the empty sea that surrounds it clear to New Zealand."

"I remember you staring at the maps back in the 1400s with that wistful look on your face. Now I know why. I take it there are places that just don't exist there?"  Our heroine shook her head before turning to look at Vlad. "You never told me just how different."

"Someday. Someday, I might take you back there with me." she mumbled crossing back to the bed, getting undressed again. Climbing back in beside him, our heroine wrapped her arms around her ex husband's torso, leaning her face on his chest. 

Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your up story. Are we lost yet?)

Sunday, April 8, 2018

The Cinema Files s1 p4

Cinema Files
page 4, chapter 4

Ectoplasmic Exploitation

I was standing in the far left room of the store, the dramas and crime section, about a hundred movies piled around my feet on the floor; cleaning the shelves when Vincent came in.   "I brought you a coffee and a muffin." he called out to me.  Turning, I tried my best not to trip over the unorganized mess. "So, you going to tell me what that little exchange was with the reporter?"

"What exchange?" I said eyeing the banana muffin with eagerness. My stomach had betrayed me the second I walked into the main area of the store and had grumbled like a motor. The coffee smelled like liquid gold as I sniffed the steam flying out of the top of the cup. It made my stomach grumble even louder.

"The guy was practically sitting in your lap back there. You didn't tell me you were dating anyone." Vincent leaned against the main rack of dvds, sounding almost hurt.

"I'm not. He's just my new neighbour. He moved into the apartment across the hall."  I stopped talking only long enough to shove half the baked treat into my mouth. Taking a sip of the way too hot still coffee, I nodded halfway to myself. "And what I didn't get to tell you because he was in the coffee shop this morning, is the dvd we found." I put down the half muffin, moving around the check out counter, gesturing for him to follow me to the little closet-office. I grabbed up the dvd we'd discovered in my aunt's storage locker and loaded it into the dvd player. Vincent blushed clearly not wanting to watch it. "Check this out. Okay, so clearly this was to some extent pornographic right."

"I don't want to see it. Really, I may never want to see a porno again thanks to that." Vincent replied gesturing to the dvd cover.

"Well, you need to see this one because..." I hit the fast forward a few minutes before hitting the play then pause. "it's not one of mine."  Vincent smirked sideways at me. "I mean, it's not the store's. It doesn't belong to us."

"But it's got the store's label on it?" he looked at me shaking his head in confusion.

"Exactly. But it's not one of ours. Look around you, what do you see?"

"Movies. Hundreds and hundreds of movies. Dvds, blu-rays, everywhere." he gestured then with both hands making large circles his fingers spread.

"What kind of movies? More specifically, what kind do you not see here? What are the only two types of movies we do not carry?"

"Anime and pornography." He said suddenly closing his eyes, slumping at the knees. Vincent relaxed suddenly as he realized it was a clue to something. "Hey, wait a minute. I recognize him." he pointed then to the screen. "Isn't he that land developer who just signed the big contract with that hotel guy?"  I nodded.

"This is amateur stuff. I'm guessing homemade sex tape. And by the looks of it, not something he'd want getting out there to the public." I turned off the dvd player, removing the dvd. "I think my aunt discovered it while investigating someone else, and needed a place to hide it. Hence the store's stickers on the case."    Vincent took the movie case from me, looking closely at the cover.

"Ingenious. But why the title? Why not just grab a blank cover?"   We both stared again at the title of it. The Master of Forgotten Wishes vol 8.

"That I haven't figured out yet."

It was just before 10pm, and I was ready to close up the store for the night, my last customers having been almost two hours earlier; when the phone rang.  "Hello Nosferatu's Video."

"What part of keep your nose clean do you not understand?"  It was Detective Whitechapel. "I just spent half the day dodging some reporter who has gone on record quoting you as a source on this investigation. He's been up my arse all day on this, following me around."


"Oh? That's all you've got to say for yourself is oh?" he took a breath and what sounded like a long gulp of something. "The official ruling hasn't been declared yet. As far as things are concerned, this reporter shouldn't even know there was a body."

"But he came to us. He showed up at the coffee shop before it was even open, asking to see both Vincent and myself." I wrapped the phone cord around my finger as I waited to be yelled at again. But Ryan instead just let out this deflated sigh, and I could just picture him rubbing his face in tired frustration. "You sound like you haven't slept yet?"

"I haven't." he snorted into the phone. "In fact, that's as far as this conversation is going to go right now cause I'm hanging up and going home for the night. No more talking to reporters understood. In fact, you see him again cross the street, run far far in the other direction."    I agreed leaving out the fact the new reporter was also my new neighbour.

Tune in again for another installment of the Cinema Files starring your up story. oh goody, a scandal.)

Sunday, April 1, 2018

The Nosferatu Adventures s13 p2

The Nosferatu Adventures
page 332, chapter 332

Out of Time

Our heroine sat down on the wooden bench, her breath floating out in smoky clouds. It had been so long since she'd been able to just sit and not have to look over her shoulder, afraid the rustling of leaves was someone or something else out to slaughter her. At the moment, the worst thing she had to worry about was a lost caribou trying to cross the highway. Vlad had stayed with her as they walked down to the beach, not that far from the university campus. It might have been winter still, but the cold weather didn't deter too many. There were still more than a handful of people either BBQing, or sitting around a small bonfire drinking and singing songs. Or what drunkenly passed for singing.

"You're happy to be back?" Vlad had meant it as a statement, but allowed the sentence to hang as if a question. He knew he needed to sit back and let her get her barrings again. Our heroine said nothing as she wrapped her arm through his, leaning on his shoulder. She was getting too comfortable with him and she knew it.

"I should be." she finally said with a heaviness. "I should be thrilled that I'm not up to my ears in betrayal and spies and bad tempered lycanthropes. I should be overjoyed at the fact I'm home. The place I kept trying to find away back to. But..." she shrugged letting the thought sink in. "What did I really have to come home to? I mean..." she gestured then with her left hand towards the edge of the nearly frozen beach. "What was that fight for? I spent all that time worried that everything here had been destroyed, that you lot had all been fighting tooth and nail with Edmund's coven. With The Seer. That there might not even be anything to return to, only to find out nothing happened." she shivered against her ex husband. "Nothing happened." she repeated the words as if trying to process it herself.  The winds changed causing the scent of beer, bonfire smoke, and sweat to fill their senses. Our heroine had to brace herself against it; practically plugging her nose. Cracking her neck she closed her eyes willing her fangs to stay put. She didn't realize how difficult it was going to be to go back to iv bags after the last few years.

"What about Edric? Your mate?" Vlad asked his own head down now, licking his lips. "You going to tell him what happened?"

"What am I suppose to do? Run my fingertips through his chest hair and be all like; hey baby, I missed you a lot, but because of some mystical loophole I ended up back with my last mate and then thrashed that by making a deal with a god and oh by the way, ended up sleeping with not just him but two other dudes while I was gone, but I'm all yours again now...yeah totally see that happening." she scoffed kicking at a small collection of broken beer bottles, grinding it under her heel.

"Maybe little more tact than that." he said flatly. "Our kind doesn't do all that well in monogamous relationships."

"Werewolves do. Okay. They are literally designed by Loki himself to have a mate for life. To be with one person till they die. Number one rule. Which I have managed to loophole my way out of more times than I should admit to." our heroine let out a deep sigh of frustration. "Besides, I still think we've got bigger things to deal with than my relationship status. Do we really think that the coven has given up? They have survived one form or another since before you ruled your kingdom back in the 1400's. They are patient if not anything." she stood then having to turn her back to the still partying humans near the edge of the beach. "You fought them once already yourself back then."
She clinched her teeth then at the noise the humans were making. The quick thumping sound of what they were calling music, pumped repeatedly from a car stereo causing Nosferatu's ears to ache. She was growing more annoyed by the second. Vlad smirked as he watched her trying to keep things under control, he himself having learned to block it out.

A flash of a thought, caused Vlad to move with one quick step, standing a few feet away as he continued to watch our heroine. Watched as her foot came stomping down on the wooden bench breaking it in three pieces, before she turned facing the human party goers. She was on them before they realized what was going on. Before any of them had a chance to scream let alone fight back. The throats ripped out of the two guys to her left, the arm ripped clear off of the guy who was working the BBQ, the last one simply tossed into the side of his truck, the wet snap of his neck breaking as he did before he passed out.

Our heroine could do nothing then as she fell to her knees in the wet sand and half melted snow. Her full Banshee nature exposed as a scream tore from her in as much a brutal force as the carnage she'd just caused.  Gasping for air, she lowered her shoulders and face, resting her forehead on the rough ground. She waited, wiped the half frozen tears from her face as she got her barrings, the winds still heavy with the scent of it all, of the saltiness and copper of blood. Blood that covered the ground, that covered the broken bodies of her victims, that covered her. She waited for what should have been the second round of frenzied screams, but they never came. Vlad should have had no control over his own Banshee nature. Instead, the dark haired male stood with his back against the truck, the stereo in hand like the mechanical heart it was.
Tossing it into the bed of the truck, Vlad sighed deeply letting the breath out slowly through his nose, as he uncrossed his ankles, moving then from the vehicle. He rubbed his hands together, removing the imaginary dirt from them before turning to look out over the edge of the beach.

"Sloppy Nosferatu. Unlike you." he cleared his throat as he moved around the scene, kicking sand first into the bonfire, before crunching up a few handfuls of snow dousing it out. His jaw muscles working overtime as he clinched back what was clearly the expected scream. Shaking his head, he blinked back the pure white eyes to expose his human brown ones. It was taking every ounce of his powers, his skills to keep the banshee nature under wraps, but Vlad none the less was doing so. "Lycanthropes." he nearly spat the word. "Such messy, emotional creatures. It doesn't take one much to see that you've become too much like them." he grabbed one of the victims by the hair, checking for a final pulse. 

Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your up story. Ah yes, a soulless uncaring voice of reason...)