New Blood

The Nox fixed their unblinking gaze on Vicky, who shifted uneasily, glancing at their pale, motionless faces, like an army of statues forever watching. She took a step back from the makeshift stage by the bar, discomfort plain on her face. “Charlie…” she called, looking to you—only to find the same ghostly paleness reflected in your own expression.

"W-what’s going on?" Vicky whispered, her voice shaking. But in the silence, it rang in your ears like a war drum.

Diana’s relaxed stance evaporated; she moved in front of Vicky, protective. “Alright, everyone, let’s not do anything foolish,” she said to the room.

“No one’s doing anything,” Moonie called out, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself as much as everyone else.

“Yeah, tall order,” her brother muttered, fighting off the hunger that rippled through the air.

Vicky’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong with their faces?” Her voice wavered, softer than she probably intended.

“Stop staring at her like that,” Diana snapped, her finger pointing at the Nox one by one.

“What did you think would happen?” Cleo hissed, eyes flashing with restrained hunger. “You brought a Hen into the Fox Den. It’s...we must…” Even Cleo, usually calm and composed, fought against the collective urge rising around them.

“Not like this, Cleo.” Diana’s voice was low but firm. “This wasn’t the plan.”

“Plan? What plan?” Namina groaned, hands over her face as if blocking out the hunger in her own eyes. “No one told us about a plan. This is...so damn hard.”

“Her eyes...why are her eyes—nope, I’m out.” Vicky turned to leave, but Diana grabbed her wrist, shaking her head with a dark seriousness.

“Don’t give them a reason to chase you,” Diana whispered. “Stay by me, and you’re safe.”

Vicky fell silent, shrinking in on herself, her gaze darting as if searching for an escape from her own thoughts.

Your sister stepped forward, addressing the room. “I know tensions are high lately, and everyone’s on edge. But I’ve made sure all of you have what you need. We must control this. Vicky is Charlie’s guest. We’ve come this far without bloodshed.”

A burly Nox with a thick beard stepped forward. “The Goth’s right, you know,” he said, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “It’s been months since we’ve had anything so tempting. Why not savor the moment?”

Diana closed the distance between them in an instant, grabbing his collar. “If you defy your master in my presence, I’ll drive that beard of yours through the back of your skull.”

Rudolf laughed grimly. “Master, you say? What master?” His gaze flicked to you, as did the rest of the Nox, still locked on Vicky, who looked frozen, paralyzed in a moment of primal fear.

Inside, you felt it—a storm behind your ribs, churning hunger threading between yourself and the others. They feel it, too. It wasn’t just their bloodlust; it was your own chaos, a frenzied pull that linked you to each of them, pulling them deeper into the abyss.

“Master…” A gentle hand touched your shoulder. It was Belle, her dark eyes mirroring the same hunger yet steady, a lifeline.

You took her hand and walked toward Vicky, pushing through the heavy tension with each step until you stood before her. She looked so small now, not the **** you feared every day in class, but simply human. Yet, despite everything, you had to admire her—under the gaze of bloodthirsty creatures, she still stood, albeit with the aid of a little liquid courage.

You held Belle’s hand tightly, then reached out to brush Vicky’s cheek. She flinched but didn’t pull away. “It was cruel of me to bring you here like this,” you murmured. “Unfair, to both you and them.” You glanced back at the Nox. “I know I’ve been different lately. I’ve seen things that shattered my world and felt things that kept it together.”

Vicky blinked, her vision slightly blurred. “Quit with the theatrics and spill it,” she muttered, trying to keep her balance.

A flicker of amusement crossed your lips. Even here, surrounded by the undead, she clung to her stubborn pride. She pushed her fist lightly against your chest, swaying as you steadied her.

“Damn it, Drake, you’re still the same—too scared to break out of your comfort zone.” She laughed, though the edge of fear never left her eyes. “Enough with the Scooby-Doo act. Spill the tea!”

You blinked, momentarily stunned by her outburst. “Fine. But you asked for it.”

Vicky’s expression froze, her mouth dropping open as her eyes met yours. Reflected in her gaze was the crimson glow, a hungry light that revealed your true self. The color drained from her face as her confidence drained away, replaced with raw terror.

She staggered backward, bumping into Claus, who knelt by the bar, his own red eyes gleaming as he looked up at her, barely keeping his fangs concealed.

Vicky spun away, her movements clumsy but ****. She stumbled through the crowd, now realizing the truth—that the lounge was filled with vampires, each gaze hungry, each mouth promising ****.

“Oh, hell no—nope, no, no, no!” she muttered, weaving through the crowd. You felt it too—the hunger, nauseating and shared by every vampire in the room. Any moment now, they’d pounce, and she’d be torn apart. But somehow, something restrained them.

Your hands lifted instinctively, fingers weaving the air as if you were parting an invisible curtain. To your astonishment, the room responded. The crowd of Nox parted, and a path opened for Vicky, who stumbled toward the double doors.

Vicky yanked at the door handles, her hands trembling, **** to escape. You looked down at your hands, realising how tightly you held every soul in the room.

"Leave her to me," you whispered, mentally releasing your grip. The door swung open, and Vicky bolted into the hall.

But she froze after only a step, her body caught in a silent tug-of-war between fear and something she couldn’t quite name. She turned, eyes wide, as she saw you standing at the doorway, the Noxium standing behind you, still, watching.

The air thickened, the silence hanging like a weight as you bridged the gap between the known world and the one you now inhabited—where light met darkness.

Vicky ran her polished nails through her dark hair, her mind scrambling for clarity. “All this time?” she breathed.

You nodded, hands in your pockets. “Not all of it. But most recently, yes.”

Her palms pressed against her eyes, **** to shield herself. Every time she glanced back at the lounge, a primal shiver ran through her. The crimson eyes of the Noxium—hungry, dangerous—locked onto her. “I knew something was off, I always knew it! But Charlie, this—this is…” She stopped, her voice breaking. “I nearly slept with—the walking dead!”

You smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “Hey, I’ll have you know, all of my important parts are very much alive.”

Vicky’s expression remained tight with fear. She sucked in shallow breaths, clearly struggling. “Oh my god, you could’ve killed me! You want to kill me! Vampires kill people, you kill people—you're a killer! Murderer—KILLER!”

“Pipe down!” you growled, halting the noise. “Look, just stay calm. Keeping a room full of bloodthirsty undead at bay is a lot easier when I’m not hearing your shrieks echoing in my skull.”

Vicky’s fists clenched at her sides, her face flushed with tension. She stepped toward you, her voice grim. “But you brought me here to kill me, right?”

You let the truth spill, no sugarcoating. You let the venom seep into your words as your crimson eyes locked with hers. “You remember the rumours you spread about me? About breaking into the locker room? Or when you had Chaz and his gang fill my locker with dog shit? Or when you told your dad I tried to grope Izzy? Yeah, maybe I brought you here to kill you... or maybe I had something else in mind, something that could benefit us both”

Her eyes flickered between you and the hungry vampires behind you. “I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me,” she snapped, but her trembling fingers betrayed her anxiety.

You took a deep breath, stepping closer to her, voice low but intense. “When I found you in that cubicle, singing the lullaby of woe, I realized something. Something I never thought possible. It made my blood boil. I realized just how similar we are. You were raised with a safety net, sure—but that came with the cold indifference of a father who couldn’t care less about you. And no mother’s love to guide you. You’re smarter than people give you credit for, and twice as stubborn. So I asked myself: How could two people, given the same hand in life, hold so much hatred for each other?”

Vicky’s fists slammed into her temples, frustration and fear battling in her chest. “This is bullshit, Charlie! You’re stalling! This is all bullshit! I don’t care what happened in the past or what the hell you are—monsters, zombies, Count Fucking Chocula—none of this justifies luring me into a goddamn slaughterhouse!” She couldn’t wrap her head around it, her mind rebelling against the truth.

You exhaled, letting the words flow. “Since I came back to the Academy, everything’s been different. Not just between us, but between everyone. Izzy, Camille—hell, the whole damn school. But you and I, Vicky... we’ve always been connected. Ever since that fight over a damn Gameboy in kindergarten, we’ve been on this track, side by side. All the bullying, the grief, the passion—there's something between us, something tethering us.”

Her eyes flickered as if she was trying to reconcile two different realities, the one she thought she knew, and the one you were showing her.

You stepped closer, your eyes predatory now. “I don’t want to be misunderstood. Trust me, I’ve wanted nothing more than to sink my teeth into you since the moment you hopped in my car. But right now, there are bigger things at play. There’s something else here, something darker. And trust me, they’ve caught your scent. Maybe you’ve always been meant for this. Meant to be one of us. To be with me. If you think I’m lying, walk down that hall, Vicky. See yourself out. But if you feel it too, then... I have to know.”

With her top lip wrestling against the bottom, and her legs carrying her in a frantic, spiralling pace, your beautiful former bully collided dizzily with the hallway wall, curled her fingers at you as if to wring the air's neck as she sunk down, clutching at her knees "Come on, Vick, come on... you can't really be buying this can't be real. It's gotta be some kind of trick, I've gotta be being punked right? o-or I'm going crazy, yeah that's it."

Closing the last of the distance between you, you lowered down to her level, taking in the image of her tangled emotions "You're not crazy. I know it's easy to just sum this all up to a simple nightmare, but at some point, you have to open your eyes and realise that we never really woke up." You whispered.

She looked up at you, rubbing her eyes as if she saw the world for the first time. "I thought..." She stopped herself.

"Don't stop, ask me whatever you need to." You spoke softly.

"....I thought you had forgiven me. I know I ruined your life, I know that I've been a hateful bitch but. I can't apologise enough for what I did, I hate it all, I hate who I am, and I'm just so tired of waking up to this sham of a life. If I could scrub all of the dirt out and wipe the slate clean, start fresh with you - with myself, I promise you I would. I swear." she mumbled, eyeshadow-stained tears slid down her full cheeks.

You reached out, she slinked away a little at first. When your soft touch graced her neck, caressing up to wipe away the tears you knew that Victoria Kaz was open to you in every sense of the word.

"You can. Let me show you." You offered her a pale hand, wrought with sharp talons.

Tentatively, and with a deep steadying breath... Vicky put her life in your hands.