Chapter 8: Chapter 8- How to catch a Vampire 101
The city of Smolensk lay shrouded in a cloak of darkness, its skyline a jagged silhouette against the night sky. Streets stretched out like veins, carrying the weight of sorrow that seemed to permeate every brick and cobblestone. Here, in the heart of despair, the souls of its people were as dark as the shadows that danced along the crumbling facades.
Mourning and loss had become companions to the inhabitants, their every step haunted by the specter of tragedy. The city itself seemed to echo their grief, its once-proud buildings reduced to rubble, its streets lined with the remnants of shattered dreams. Despite the feeble attempts to cling to normalcy, the reality of their plight hung heavy in the air, choking any semblance of hope.
Just a scant three years prior, the relentless march of German forces had reached the borders of Soviet Russia, only to be halted by the unforgiving embrace of winter. But Smolensk had not been spared the ravages of war.
Tom clambered up the steps of the pub, Charlie as usual, three steps behind him.
With a creak and a jingle, the door swung open, unleashing a cacophony of sound that assaulted their senses. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of stale beer and desperation, mingling with the discordant notes of cheap music. It was a symphony of false joviality, a feeble attempt to drown out the sorrows that weighed heavy on the hearts of those who sought solace within these walls.
Men, their faces etched with lines of hardship, crowded around tables littered with empty glasses and half-smoked cigarettes. Their laughter was hollow, their voices raised in a desperate attempt to silence the demons that whispered in the corners of their minds.
Tom/Fyodor walks up the bartender, "Vodka. With ice."
The bartender nods and Charlie walks up to stand by his side. "Who exactly are we looking for?"
Tom nods in thanks as the bartender slams a glass cup down in front of him, "Three men by the names of Dmitri, Sergey, and Vadim. According to the victim's wife, they were drinking buddies."
Charlie nods, he makes to say something but closes his mouth as though second-guessing.
Tom/Fyodor sighs, "What is it?"
"Well, its just- I don't really see what exactly it is we're doing here, weren't we trying to find the girl?"
"No, we're trying to find the vampire." Tom/Fyodor responded lowering his voice. "The girl was a lead, that we'll continue, but there's no real indication that she was taken by a vampire. She could just as easily have been kidnapped, people would pay good money to bed a 'pampered brat'."
"But-"
Tom/Fyodor interrupts, "This however, I'm sure had something to do with them." He turns to Charlie, "Places like this are a goldmine for the newborn vampires."
"Dark, practically lawless, with more drunks than standing buildings." Tom/Fyodor whispered.
"What about the Ministry?" Charlie queried. "Shouldn't they intervene?"
"This isn't the Ministry's jurisdiction; it's the Magical Duma's."
"Same difference," Charlie waved dismissively. "Aren't the vampires concerned about repercussions?"
Tom's lips curled into a sardonic smirk. "Repercussions for a few muggle meals? Unlikely."
He signals for refills. "Two more, please."
The bartender returns with two glass cups of the cloudy beverage. Tom passes his over to Charlie, "Here, enjoy."
Charlie accepted with a shrug. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to get me drunk."
Tom/Fyodor chuckled. "You're more agreeable when you're intoxicated."
Charlie smirks, "So what does that say about your plans."
Tom's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Charlie's retort, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Touché, Charlie. Touché."
Charlie's smirk widened as he took a sip from his cup, his eyes gleaming mischievously over the rim.
They wait for a few more hours for the men to turn up, but nothing happens. The hours tick by and Charlie continues to guzzle down drink after drink, already he'd made some friends in the bar, just a few moments ago he'd been playing a game of cards with a couple men. He made his way over.
In the midst of his revelry, Charlie stumbled over to where Tom stood, a mischievous glint in his eyes betraying his inebriated state. "I don't think they're coming," he slurred, punctuating his statement with a belch that drew a few amused glances from nearby patrons. "Oh, and Tom-"
"Fyodor," Tom interjected, his patience wearing thin but his tone surprisingly gentle.
"Oh, oops," Charlie chuckled, his words muddled by the alcohol coursing through his veins. He leaned in conspiratorially, though his attempt at discretion was largely futile given his intoxicated state. "Sorry, forgot."
Tom waved off the apology, accustomed to Charlie's erratic behavior by now. "Forget it, what is it?"
"I need a couple extra quid," Charlie muttered under his breath, casting a wary glance at a figure across the room. "That twat over there got all of mine and he's asking for more."
Tom followed Charlie's gesture, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the man who had apparently bested his companion in whatever game of chance they had engaged in. The man's self-satisfied grin did little to endear him to Tom, who had little patience for this trivial game.
"That sounds to me like a you problem." Tom said facing him.
Charlie rolled his eyes, "Oh don't be such a twat yourself T-Fyodor, its only a bit of harmless fun."
"I can hardly say the same for our walle-" Tom paused, exactly as he was about to finish his sentence, a man stepped into the bar. Tall and gaunt, with a pallid complexion that seemed to glow faintly in the low light. With a predatory look about him, the man made his way to the made his way to the end of the bar, his movements were slow and deliberate as he pushed through the throng of patrons.
He settled into his seat and folded his arms.
Tom turned to Charlie, "You know what? Here." He said passing over a couple bills, "Have yourself a nice time, I'm leaving."
"What?" Charlie ," C'mooon, stay."
"No Charlie." Tom smiled, "I'm afraid not, I got stuff to do, but you stay behind."
If Charlie could tell that anything was off, he gave no indication of it, he simply shrug and grabbed the wad of cash.
"W-whatever. Bartender." He drunkenly slurred, "Another."
The Bartender shot him a look of annoyance before slamming yet another cup down.
Tom grinned as he exited the lively bar, greeted by a rush of refreshing night air against his face. Descending the steps, he strolled away from the pub before swiftly veering around a corner and finding shelter behind a weathered building. With a deft motion, he retrieved his wand, tapping it against his temple as he murmured, "Invisilumos."
A ripple of energy enveloped him, akin to the sensation of a raw egg being cracked over his head and when he looked down, he looked indistinguishable from his surroundings.
Patiently, Tom bided his time as minutes stretched into moments. Sober patrons entered, while inebriated ones stumbled out. With each creak of the door, he tensed, anticipating his target, only to be met with disappointment.
"Calefacio," he whispered, feeling the comforting warmth envelop him, halting his shivering. 'Damnit, how long is this going to take?'
Fortunately for him, his impatience was soon rewarded when two familiar figures emerged. Charlie, inebriated and mumbling nonsensically, stumbled out, accompanied by the tall, pale man from earlier, who was providing support.
The man whispered something to Charlie, who nodded in drunken agreement, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Tom strained to hear their conversation, but the noise of the street made it difficult to discern their words. Nonetheless, he kept his focus, determined to follow them without being detected.
They stumbled down the dimly lit street, with the pale man struggling to hold up the drunken Charlie. Tom maintained a safe distance, using his invisibility to his advantage. He observed their interactions, noting the subtle gestures the vampire made to Charlie.
Suddenly, they veered off the main road and entered a narrow alley. Tom hesitated for a moment, assessing the situation before cautiously following them.
The alley was dimly lit, with shadows clinging to the walls like specters. Tom's heart pounded in his chest. He stayed close enough to follow but far enough for the creature not to notice him. Fledgling or not, the vampiric senses were much more sensitive than human.
They stopped in front of a decrepit building at the end of the alley. The tall man glanced around, his eyes piercing through the darkness as if searching for something- or someone. Tom held his breath, hoping his invisibility spell would hold.
Without warning, the tall man pushed Charlie roughly against the wall of the building. Charlie's drunken protests turned into startled yelps as the man leaned in close, his features contorted in a predatory grin.
Suddenly the vampire's head snapped in Tom's direction, his eyes narrowing as if sensing something amiss. Tom froze, every muscle in his body tensing as he prayed that his invisibility charm would hold up under scrutiny.
For a moment, the alley was silent, the only sound the distant hum of the city beyond. Then, to Tom's immense relief, the tall man shrugged and turned back to Charlie, dismissing whatever suspicion had crossed his mind. The vampire's teeth sunk into Charlie's neck.
One gulp, two gulps, three gulps. That was more than enough.
There was no point to waiting any longer, Tom burst out of his hiding place, his wand held high.
"Stupefy!" He shouted. A red jet of light exploded out of his wand. The vampire dodged the spell. He moved with bestial grace, his powerful legs kicking out from behind him. Charlie drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The creature didn't wait to confront Tom. Without a moment's hesitation, the vampire bolted, its speed surpassing any human capability.
Tom made to chase it, shooting more spells at its fleeting form. He stopped when it went out of sight.
"Inebrievate." A flash of bright orange, and Charlie's eyes snapped wide open.
He jolted up from where lay on the ground.
"What happened?" Charlie groaned, his hand instinctively reaching up to his neck, where the unmistakable puncture wounds from the vampire's teeth could be felt.
Charlie withdrew his hand from the wound, noting the crimson stain on his palm with a mixture of horror and disbelief.
"I... I don't..." he stuttered, his voice trembling with shock. "What the hell happened?"
Tom rolled his eyes in exasperation. "What do you think?" he retorted rhetorically, leaning down to tap his wand against the wound while murmuring incantations.
Charlie winced once more as the throbbing sensation intensified. "Bloody thing bit me right on the neck," he muttered.
Tom nodded, "That's their go to, ample amount of blood, plus you pass out sooner without enough of it going to your brain."
"I'm not going to turn into a vampire, am I?" Charlie's voice quivered with unease. "I'd rather not risk turning into ash during a morning stroll."
Tom reassured him, "I wouldn't worry about it. Turning a human isn't something done accidentally. It would have to drain you entirely of your blood before even attempting it."
Within moments, the wounds sealed shut, leaving behind only dried blood as evidence of their presence.
Charlie stood, gingerly flexing his shoulders to stimulate circulation, relief gradually overtaking his features. "So, where is it?" he inquired.
"Gone," replied Tom curtly.
"What?!" Charlie exclaimed, his frustration evident. "I got bitten for nothing?"
Tom remained silent, his expression unreadable. Instead, he raised his wand to his forehead, whispering incantations as his mouth emitted sounds of hissing and spitting.
He stopped just as suddenly as he'd begun, "I've got him."
"What?" Charlie's confusion deepened.
Tom's gaze hardened. "I've located him," he clarified, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "And now, we're going after him."
"C'mon," Tom urged, striding purposefully through the dimly lit alleyways, his wand held aloft, its tip emitting a steady glow.
Charlie followed closely behind, his senses on high alert, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
They rounded a corner, fallen amongst the rubble was the same pale man, the veins beneath his skin stood out starkly against his pallid complexion, like crimson roads on a snowy landscape.
Tom approached cautiously, his wand at the ready, while Charlie hung back, warily eyeing the unresponsive creature.
Tom gave a light kick at the vampire's sides, other than a slight groan, it gave no indication of being aware of its surroundings.
Charlie moved forward now, eyes drawn up in confusion, "What the heck happened to him?"
Tom summoned ropes with his wand and with another flick, bound up the vampire. "Silver." He responded simply.
"The bullets then?" whispered Charlie, "But I don't see any bullet holes to speak of."
"Because there aren't any," Tom disclosed, gesturing toward the crimson veins. "It's in his system."
"But how-" Understanding dawned on Charlie's face. "My blood." He gaped.
He turned full face to Tom, "You always meant for him to feed on me." He looked almost hurt.
Tom met Charlie's accusing gaze with a steely resolve, his expression unyielding. "It was the most efficient way to lure the vampire." he stated firmly, his voice devoid of remorse. "And besides, I wasn't going to let you get hurt."
Charlie's features contorted in a mixture of shock and betrayal. "You used me as bait," he accused, his voice tinged with anger.
"It was necessary." Tom countered, his tone unapologetic. "It worked, didn't it?"
Charlie paused uncertain, he folded his arms. "Still though, it wouldn't have hurt to tell me."
"Perhaps next time, Charlie," Tom relented with a sigh. "But for now, let's focus on getting this bloodsucker back to our place."
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