Chapter Text
In terms of issues, Scott figured that Shelby’s temporary death by the hands of Abolish was at the top of the list. It proved that not only were the vampires weaker on their own, but that Abolish was a one man army with the ability and drive to kill any one of them.
The latter was an obvious conclusion, given the fact that Abolish had set the entire woods ablaze. As for the former… it should have been crystal clear to Scott that being alone was fatal for their species now. After all, two fledglings had already faced temporary death at the hands of the humans in quick succession.
But that point didn’t sink in until a feeling of loss suddenly washed over Scott. Not like grief, or sadness— but as if some part of him had physically been taken away and left a hollow space where it used to be.
In all of his years of living, this sensation wasn’t unfamiliar to Scott. But it had been a long time since he had felt it. Far too long for the universe to be comfortable with, it seemed.
Someone was dead.
Dead dead.
As in stake-to-the-heart dead.
Gone.
Permanently.
And Scott had no idea of knowing which of the coven had fallen.
He held onto his countenance with practiced ease, informing Cleo as to what the feeling meant since she had never felt it before.
He started a mental headcount with her: That was one vampire who was still alive, for better or for worse. And since the rest had split up, Scott would need to wait for them to reconvene at the castle in order to see who lived and who died. So he carried on what he was doing until worried voices filtered out from the walls of the castle.
It hadn’t taken long for the others to figure out what the feeling had meant to some visceral degree. They may not have known someone died, but they knew something was wrong. Regrouping was smart of them, and it gave Scott a good opportunity to scratch more names off the list.
Shelby was there– seeing her as alive as a vampire could be unburdened Scott more than he would care to admit. The others to return were Sausage and Drift, neither of whom inspired any feeling of relief upon seeing them. Quite the opposite, in fact.
The moment Scott had felt someone die, a pit had begun to form in his stomach. It was tiny and unbeknownst to him when it began— a feeling he had long since learned to ignore through the centuries. But as more and more vampires appeared safe and sound, the pit became deeper.
It wasn’t that Scott detested any of the coven, no— they were neutral to him, at best, and he had no interest in seeing any of them gone. But for those that survived, it whittled down the options of the casualty to a select few. And among them there was a gapingly obvious choice.
He and Cleo had already discussed it. What to do about Avid… what might happen if he got himself or someone else killed. But the notion seemed far off— entirely hypothetical. And now, the possibility was very real.
Pyro and Owen were still unaccounted for. But they were both level three and out for blood with more than enough capabilities of getting it. The chances of either of them being killed was slim.
Apo was another option, but she was resilient— much more than Scott would prefer. And if Owen had been unable to take her out, it would take a massive change in circumstance to do it. Her death was unlikely.
As for Avid, he was… well, passionate. Perhaps ambitious was a better word for it. But his bark was always worse than his bite, even when his teeth sharpened into fangs.
Avid was a level one when he left. Scott had told him not to leave.
Of the four remaining, Avid seemed the most likely to be dead.
And that didn’t–.... it didn’t sit right with Scott. He couldn’t place exactly why– and perhaps the chances of it not being Avid is what stopped him from doing so. But still… something within him was… not working right, was the best way to describe it. Something deep in his chest that he couldn’t claw out and couldn’t bury back down. Something… old, and lost.
But there was no time to dwell on that for now. Scott needed to figure out what had happened and to who. So he set out of the castle to take a look around and eavesdrop on the townsfolk for answers.
* * *
Scott had immense pride in his stealthy abilities. It wasn’t his preferred activity, but he was the best among the vampires of not being noticed, going as far as to spook his fellow undead with his expertise. That garnered some enjoyment from the activity– knowing he could be wherever he wanted and hear everything not meant for his ears.
But in this case, not even his sense of superiority lightened his mood.
Nothing he heard was useful. The humans wanted to kill the vampires– what a surprise! But no talk of a vampire actually being killed. Their skills were subpar, as usual, and standing around and listening to their chatter was not only dull, but useless.
The only thing of interest Scott learned was that Apo was still alive. That was another name off the list, and an inch deeper into the hole.
With only Owen and Pryo remaining, Avid’s chances were looking bleak. But Scott would not put the nail in that coffin until he knew who he was burying. It wasn’t hope— it was practicality. Grieving someone who isn’t actually dead is a waste of energy.
And it wasn’t like he planned on grieving for Avid, anyways.
With nothing else to gain from his current position, Scott headed back towards the castle to see if any others had returned. However, he didn’t quite make it that far, stopped on the main path by a small group of the coven.
Two he had already accounted for— Cleo and Sausage. The third was another name off the list, and the least surprising man to see alive– Pyro.
“There isn’t much to see down there. The townsfolk are low on silver and Apo is still alive. That’s about it.” Scott supplied to no one in particular.
Then his gaze turned to Pyro.
“I take it that since you’re here, Avid is the one who died?”
A noise of affirmation echoed from the entire group.
“Yup, Avid’s dead.” Cleo confirmed. “And Pyro killed him.”
“Pyro kil–...” The words died on Scott’s tongue.
It made sense. The townsfolk didn’t seem aware that a vampire had died. It was impossible for a vampire to kill themselves permanently. And all things considered, Avid and Pyro never did get along.
Pyro got cocky with his new power. He popped up in places he shouldn’t have been and got closer to the humans than he should have. He was teasing them, pushing them around— and Avid pushed back. Pushed him off a cliff, to be exact. And apparently, Pyro was not quite as level headed about the ordeal as he made himself out to be.
It was stupid, and it was petty. But that was to be expected of someone like him. Pyro never did know what to do with his power without being told. And left to his own devices, things like this happen.
That was Scott’s mistake– trusting the fledgling he knew to be reckless. But that went for Avid as well as Pyro. He should’ve put them both on a leash ages ago.
The conversation went on with Pyro at the lead– likely regaling the details of Avid’s death from his perspective. But his words were static to Scott’s ears.
Scott didn’t intend to listen to anything more— he couldn’t bear to. Not until he got his head on straight (however ironic the turn of phrase was). But one particular sentence snapped Scott back to attention.
“--and I left his corpse to rot down there. A fitting end, I’d say.” Pyro said.
Scott blinked.
“A… corpse?” He repeated, slowly.
All eyes in the circle turned to him, including a few new faces who had appeared.
“Uh… yes, Sire. He is dead.” Pyro replied, his voice gaining a bit of unease.
“Where did you leave him?”
Scott could hear a murmur of confusion travel around the circle of vampires, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He asked a simple question and he expected a simple answer.
“Why does that matter?” Cleo piped in.
Her tone was judgmental– it always was. There was always something she disapproved of regardless of which side she was on. But whether she thought herself the only sane person among the group or just the supreme authority over all, Scott could care less.
His head snapped over in Cleo’s direction, all friendly pretense dropped in an instant.
“Did I ask you to speak?”
It wasn’t loud or biting. There was very little emotion behind his words at all. But they were packed with the ancient authority of an elder vampire– a coldness of detachment that felt like death staring you in the eyes. It could shake just about anyone to their core, even the most stubborn of vampires.
Cleo decided to pick her battles and keep her mouth shut. Most everyone else in the circle took a step back away from Scott.
Scott simply moved from one target to the other, booking back at Pyro with his expression unchanged. “Well?”
Pyro was always the antsy type. He hovered around Scott in both admiration and fear— but mostly fear. And yet never before had Scott seen the man so nervous. He wouldn’t even look his sire in the eyes.
“...Pyro said he trapped Avid in the crypt,” Drift’s quiet voice came from somewhere off to the side. “I, um… I assume he’s still there.”
Scott glanced over his shoulder to see the fledgling huddled up next to Shelby. They shared a nervous glance with one another before looking back at Scott.
Scott simply offered them a nod before looking forwards again. He let out a breath from his nose, returning his voice to normal,
“I’ll be back, then.”
Scott intended that to be the end of the conversation. He figured he had given the vampires enough reason not to question him– and yet a cold hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged him to a stop as he tried to leave.
“Scott–” Pyro’s voice echoed from behind him.
Scott snapped his head back towards Pyro, making the fledgling release him immediately and take a step back.
“I, um– Sire… can I ask why you want Avid’s corpse..?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “To bury him, of course.”
It seemed like the obvious answer, despite the lie behind it. But that only made Pyro’s expression scrunch up in confusion.
“Why bother?” He asked. “You never much liked getting your hands dirty, anyways.”
“If you had ever paid attention to what Avid said, you’d know that he has nothing left in this world.” Scott said. “If we leave him down there to wither and decay, then the earth below him will be the last thing that ever remembers his name. He deserves a grave, if nothing else.”
To that logic, silence fell over the entire group. Some of the vampires exchanged looks. Shelby and Drift squished even tighter together, if it were possible. And Pyro looked down at the ground, his expression hard to read.
Scott took that as a proper end to the questioning and took off towards the Crypt again. But he barely made it a few steps before he heard Pyro’s voice from behind him,
“I dunno… it seems like a fitting end for him.”
Scott stopped. He didn’t turn. He didn’t move.
“...If that’s how you feel, Pyro, then when you die I will make sure there isn’t a soul alive or dead who will ever speak your name again.”
He could hear Pyro’s undead heart spike to life in a panic. It was something the newer vampires’ bodies had yet to unlearn — fear, distress. Their hearts didn’t need to beat, but raced anyways.
This was the only circumstance in which Scott truly relished the sound coming from a fellow vampire. It was only a mere fraction of the karma Pyro was owed, but it was a start. As for what else he might do… that depended on whatever happened next.
Finally, Scott was able to leave the group in peace. But even at a distance, he didn’t fail to catch Cleo’s voice consoling Pyro.
“Don’t take it personally. You killed his boytoy– he’ll get over it.”
Scott had half a mind to turn back and snap Cleo’s head from her shoulders. She could certainly make use of some humbling. But that wasn’t the most important thing at hand.
There was a corpse. And if there was a corpse, there was still a chance.
That was the funny thing about vampires; They were already corpses.