The Others

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Morgan took a sip of his coffee, keeping his eyes on Kazimir.

"I do owe you some answers. You are a vampire. At some point, you exchanged blood with one. Technically, you are dead. No heart beat, no need to breath, no pulse. This is a house where people come to live when they don't belong in the normal world or they don't belong with their kind. If you wish to run with vampires, I can arrange that. Most work alone. However," He shifted in his chair, leaning in. "there has been an increase in new vampires. Their 'parent' leaves them and come sunrise, they're too weak to do anything. The supernatural world frowns up this. I'd like to get to the bottom of it all and put an end to it. You can choose to help with it or not, but you are welcome to stay here, in safety."

As Morgan finished his explanation, Arabella sent plates flying through the kitchen, landing in front of Morgan and next Dahlia. A plate with a small amount of food landed in front of Kazimir, and another in front of an empty chair, where Arabella sat.

"There's a wash room through there." She pointed to the other side of the kitchen, "If you need to wash up, hun. I made you a tiny bit, not enough to make you sick, of course."
 
Unable to remember the series of events leading up to being bitten, Kazimir stared idly at the tabletop, thinking, hands tucked where he didn't have to look at them. Vampires. Huh. He'd always known they'd existed--much like other supernatural creatures --but he'd never expected to be one. Who looked at a pallid, worn-down university graduate and thought they'd make a good meal? Evidently someone. And according to Morgan, it was happening more and more.

"I...think that I'd like to find out who's doing this. If you want help," he said, accent less thick now that he was awake. Glancing up when a plate of food landed in front of him, Kazimir nodded at Arabella's words and stood, crossing to wash the blood off his hands. Thank god he hadn't noticed the red splatters on his shirt yet.

Dahlia, meanwhile, thanked Arabella for the food and batted Cosmo's wisps away. The ghost was craning over her shoulder again.

"I'll exorcise you," she grumbled the threat. Cosmo grinned.

"But Dahl, we already tried that. And I just want to look at it. I miss food."

Their mealtime squabbles were nearly ritualistic at that point. Kazimir didn't appear to notice upon returning. He looked preoccupied as he sat back down, clean hand grasping a fork and mechanically bringing food to his mouth. Its taste seemed dulled-- another drawback to being undead, he supposed.
 
Morgan smiled down at his breakfast, giving a quiet thanks to Arabella as she sat to join them. He looked up to Kazimir as he returned from cleaning, ignoring Cosmo's antics. The playful poltergeist could be bothersome, but harmless. Morgan had given up on taming the spirit long ago.

"The next issue, is your family. You can go to them and explain your situation. It usually doesn't turn out well, especially if they happen to be religious. You can send letters and have poor quality video chats until you out live them. You can cut all ties, or we can get a death certificate. All up to you, of course." He said, beginning on his pancakes. "And no rush on a choice."

As the party ate their breakfast, the missing member returned from upstairs. Silver entered the kitchen, grabbing a plate near the stove and picking up breakfast items Arabella had left for her, including extra bacon and a lightly cooked steak. She wore a long nightshirt, which stopped just above her knees. Her white hair leaving a damp spot on her back. The large scratch still stretched across her face, though now clean. She squeezed between Morgan and Arabella, coolly glancing over to the newest guest.

"You should have gotten a cat, Morgan." She suggested, eating her own meal.
 
Family. Kazimir picked at his food, considering the touch of irony in the situation. His family had shipped him overseas to schools whenever possible, and now his vampire 'parent' had dumped him in a park to die with the morning sun. 'Family' seemed like a hollow sentiment.

"A death certificate will be fine," he replied. "Make up some story about a car crash. Send them a jar of ashes. They'll never look into it any further than that."

Maybe that was for the best. If one of his elder siblings had died, they'd have launched a full inquiry. Probably waged a legal war on whoever they found to be responsible-- a vampire or not. Point was, it would've been a mess. Kazimir suppressed a snort. Rich people. Even though he technically was one-- or had been one --he'd always harboured a different view of it, living as he did across the ocean, surrounded by the ostentatious offspring of even more affluent families. Kazimir stabbed his food with a little more vigor. Bloody peacocks.

"Good morning, Silver!" Cosmo chimed as the werewolf reappeared. Dahlia nodded to her as she entered the room. Kazimir didn't look up until she made the cat comment, too tired to bother voicing any of the numerous expletives that came to mind. None of them were in English, anyways.
 
"Then we will take care of it," Morgan said. He took out his cell phone to write himself a memo.

Silver began to poor an ample amount of syrup on her pancakes and large helping of bacon. Still in a sour mood, her "Good morning," came out somewhat harsh, with a hint of a growl.

"Silver," Morgan said, slowly picking at his own meal. "We've had this conversation. There are bigger issues to attend to."

"Something just doesn't smell right." She said putting her silverware down. "It's more than vampires. I can't put a finger on it, I just know that something is wrong." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, "I'm going to go visit Mr. Pissy Paws this evening."
 
Just like that, freedom. Though, cutting ties with his family also meant no more money. What was he going to do for rent? Kazimir stomached as much food as possible-- not much --before setting his fork down, listening to the others talk around him. As if a vampire crisis wasn't enough, apparently something else was wrong. He glanced up just enough to see Dahlia nod along with Silver's statement.

"Going for a walk, huh?" Cosmo hummed. The ghost floated gently to the floor, reaching behind him for a swath of the wispy blue-white substance he was made of and pulling it over his head like a hood. Translucent, his grin and eyes gleamed through it. "Maybe I should go adventuring, too."

"Or," Dahlia interjected and stabbed her food, "you could help me cleanse the new guy like you promised you would."

This caught Kazimir's attention. He looked up from his plate at the young woman across from him. "Cleanse? I'm clean."

One of Dahlia's brows arched. She rolled her eyes and gestured to the bloodstains on his shirt. "Okay, fangs. But I mean the witchy kind of cleansing. You got bit. I'm not lettin' bad luck like that hang around the house."

Confused and tired, Kazimir glanced at each house occupant, trying to determine if this was some sort of joke or hazing ritual.
 
"How far from this house can you wonder, Cosmo? And will you stop like walking into a glass door, or disappear in a pretty whisp?" Silver said with a mischievous grin. "Clensings are so much more fun than dealing with Fang-Face."

She ate her food in an animalistic manner, not worrying about who watched her. Gradually, her manners returned and she chewed with her mouth closed, hiding her own fang like teeth as they slowly finished their last bit of transformation. Rather than holding her fork with the whole hand, she shifted to a regular position. Her hair seemed to have less volume and her eyes glimmered with more humanity than hunger. The fresh cut across her face had scabbed over, appearing as if she had it for more than a day or two.

"Someday you'll cherish each other," Arabella said with a grin. "Sibling rivalry is temporary."

"Is it, now?" Silver said as she finished her breakfast and stood from the table. She put her cleaned plate in the sink and left without another word.

Arabella continued to smile. She seemed at peace, perhaps because she knew something the others did not or perhaps she had no idea at all. She would refuse either one. She joined the table, happily eating her own breakfast.

"Dahlia, do you want the kitchen or the living room?" Arabella asked.
 
"He-ey! I made it all the way to the end of the driveway once," Cosmo fake-pouted after Silver, hovering to follow her path from the kitchen, tenuous wisps trailing from his hood. Kazimir did his utmost to ignore the both of them as they passed and instead tried to focus on his food. Finding this nauseating, it was a relief when Arabella spoke, even though his reply was a stifled snort.

"I have six siblings." He gave breakfast a final halfhearted stab before putting his fork down for good. "Never got along with any of them."

Dahlia huffed and pushed her finished plate away. "Better turn that damn frown upside down, fangs. I'm not waking up to any werewolf-vampire deathmatches."

She gave him a challenging stare before standing and turning to deposit her plate in the sink. Her top was emblazoned with the words Feeling Witchy, which Kazimir could be reasonably sure she wore with lethal irony. Dahlia glanced at Arabella.

"The living room'll be fine. More space," she said, flashing the woman a brief grin. Kazimir's suspicion heightened. Then the young lady's eyes were on him again, dark and guarded once more. She gestured for him to follow and slipped off to the living room. Kazimir sighed and scraped his chair back. Dahlia's shouts drifted through the house. "If any of ya' went upstairs, grab my white candle! And my quartz-- the big one on the nightstand."
 
Arabella happily bounced along, quickly cleaning the breakfast table. A few sprigs of her blond hair popped loose from her bun, as if her joy couldn't be contained.

"Why so serious, Morgan? A good cleanse is always interesting. You never know what demons have clung to a body over the years, eh?" She asked, turning before leaving the kitchen.

The tall man waved a hand to dismiss her worry, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Ah, I've thought about what Silver said. There is something up and they might be connected. If so, there's something.....hairy out there."

Arabella's face fell slightly. While her smile showed her wrinkles, it did not show her age as much as a frown. She pressed her lips together for a moment, thinking about recent events. For a moment, her whimsical demeanor disappeared, replaced with an odd seriousness.

"Arabella," Morgan said, voice low. "Don't worry about it now. Go get a white candle and a big quartz."

She paused. Her bright eyes regained their sense of pleasure. "Of course," she laughed, turning around to head back upstairs. Her small frame hardly made a sound as she hopped up to the next floor. Within a few moments she returned, holding three different candles: one white, one green, and one a pink quartz color. Cradled with them a large stone square edges and a light rosy tint.
 
Cosmo whisked past Arabella as she descended the stairs. A tote bag dangled from his opaque hands. It was obviously something Dahlia and himself had put together earlier, and he passed it off to the young witch with a manic grin. Dahlia set it on the coffee table, which had been pushed to the side to clear a space in the center of the room.

"Thanks, Arabella," she said as candles and quartz appeared in her periphery. "Can you set 'em up in a triangle for me? Quartz goes in the middle, same as usual."

She fished out a pack of matches from the shopping bag and tossed them to Arabella, her free hand withdrawing other materials. Kazimir stood aside and watched with growing unease. Dark, glossy camphor leaves. Round clippings from a plant he didn't recognize. The bright red seeds of sandalwood, something that definitely smelled like cinnamon, and another unknown plant covered in thorns-- the big kind that pierced through even the thick jackets of hunters in the woods.

Dahlia picked up on his mood. She smirked to herself while deftly lashing the plants together. "What, no witches where you come from?"

"Ever heard of Walpurgis Night?" Kazimir replied without thinking it through. Dahlia swung on him, scowling.

"Into the triangle, fangs." She jabbed a finger at the middle of the room. Kazimir scowled back but did as he was told.
 
Arabella fumbled with the matches for a moment in a comical fashion. She took one out and lit the candle, pleasant smile on her face. The warm morning sun creeping in through the windows took away the some of the mystery in the room. The house did well at letting in light without directly shinning on anything or anyone. Without a dark, blood stained basement, the ceremony seemed to have less malice. She glanced over to Kaz, continuing to smile.

Morgan joined the room, cup of coffee still in hand. He took a seat on the coach, then slowly sipped at his cup. Arabella flopped down next to him. With perfect timing he held his cup in such a way, her bouncy landing didn't spill a drop of his coffee.

"I think he'll be a nice addition," Arabella said with glee. "Pity you found him on a bad day for Silver. Now it will take her twice as long to warm up to him."

"If he makes it through this." Morgan said, refusing to show any emotions.

"Morgan! You're simply awful." Arabella said laughing, watching Kaz's face.
 
Flicking the blinds shut to keep out the encroaching sun, Dahlia turned back to Kazimir. The vampire stood next to her quartz chunk, eyes wandering skeptically from candle to candle. Even with their minimal amounts of light he could see so well it was as if the curtains were never drawn.

"Sit," Dahlia ordered, waving Cosmo away; the meddlesome ghost was trying to get an aerial view of the affair. Crouching, the witch touched her herb bundle to the white candle's flame. Fragrant smoke immediately curled from its end, a hush rising with it and filling the room. Kazimir lowered himself to the floor. Something like static crawled across him, touching faded wounds from the night before. Dahlia prowled around the triangle, noiseless. Her swarthy skin blended with the room.

Things Kazimir had buried were lured up from the pit of him as if sunk on a hook-- Albanian mutterings, old emotions and memories. They were things he'd hoped to avoid until the day he died, and now he had eternity. Cinnamon and sandalwood; apparitions in the smoke. The feeling of spider legs under his skin. He shuddered. In the weak candlelight his shadow stretched long. Black grains pulled away from the vampire like a caul, enshrouding and receding, resonating the soft hiss of a television with no stations. They were not things just anyone could see. The smoke broke their formation and gently obliterated them. Seeking shelter, the grains snaked back into Kazimir's shadow.

"The fuck out of this house!" Dahlia lunged from the dark, breaking all illusions of myth and mystery. She brandished her burning herbs and nearly set the carpet on fire shoving them towards Kazimir's shade. "I'm not takin' any shit from evil sand. Out!"

The vampire's shadow dissolved into what looked like millions of tiny specks, withering under the smoke. The smell was starting to make him queasy-- not that that was unusual --and the bite scars by his collarbone itched something fierce. He uttered a growl and raked at them with his nails, almost feverish until the Albanian voices in his head died down and left him feeling curiously drained. Dahlia could be heard huffing and sauntering around the triangle. She extinguished each candle with an under-her-breath mutter and re-opened the blinds; just a sliver, enough to let the group see but careful not to douse Kazimir in sunlight.

"That's it for now." She stood akimbo and stared down at the slovenly, blood-spattered vampire. "Step two is just you taking a shower. Real' age-old witchcraft."

"I love cleansings!" Cosmo piped, dropping from the ceiling to pluck the still-burning herbs from Dahlia's hand. He twisted away before the young woman could make a grab for them and clutched the herbs to his chest. "Ahh, the smoke feels nice. Doesn't it, new guy?"

'New Guy' was still sitting on the floor looking dazed and very much not up to the task of locating the house's shower. Dahlia didn't seem inclined to help him up-- she was busy trying to wrest her herbs back from Cosmo, who liked to hijack purification rituals on the basis that he was a ghost and enjoyed the sensation of them.
 
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Arabella watched, green eyes wide behind her thick glasses. With all said and done, she applauded. She appeared as if a movie goer, watching an illusion. At first glance it seemed she might not believe any of the goings-on in the house, or perhaps blindly believed everything that happened like a conspiracy nut. With her it always seemed hard to tell.

"What a show!" She squealed like a child, still applauding. Morgan put a gentle arm around her, gaining her attention. Wide eyes looked up to him, as if to ask for cotton candy.

"And she's gone again," Morgan sighed. He patted her on the shoulder and stood, looking over to Kazimir. "It happens, sometimes she's the most intelligent person, sometimes she's a....well."

Arabella giggled, interrupting Morgan as he thought of the most kind words for her condition. "He's covered in blood!"

"She'll be back, eventually. I'll show you your room and a good hot shower. I'm sure you're exhausted after all of that." Morgan said, offering a hand.
 
Giving Morgan the slow blink of someone just barely lucid enough to understand words, Kazimir accepted the man's offered hand for the second time that day and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Half-lidded lassitude eyes scanned over a giggling, spaced-out Arabella over to where Dahlia was still chasing Cosmo.

"House is...weird," Kaz said, taking an abnormally long time to find the words. He felt empty. Nothing around him seemed real; he'd been returned to the thin consciousness of earlier that day, unable to discern anything, yet strangely at ease. No gnawing hunger. Just apathy. Like a machine, he began climbing the stairs that Morgan guided him to. "No more clothes. I mean-" He paused to give his head a slight shake. "-My clothes are still wherever I lived before. And these are..."

He refused to look down at his shirt for fear of seeing the red stains that were on it; but stains came out. The huge tears made by vampire claws as he'd attempted to escape his attacker, however, could not be fixed. There wasn't enough left of the shirt to warrant sewing it.
 
Morgan walked slower than usual, uncertain if Kazimir would keep up. One of Dahlia's cleanses could put him on his ass. He swore it took more than just evil out of a person, but kept the thought to himself. He lead the way up to the second floor, with faded purple and red wallpaper seeming to date from the houses birth. A long claw mark ran half way down, pointed to a thick door that appeared out of place. Arabella, Silver, and Dahlia lived in the rooms, each with their own bathroom. He continued up to the third floor, the wallpaper resembling the second but in tones of blue and green.

"I have some shirts and pants stashed away. Some of them should fit you until we can get you set up and to the store. You're family doesn't know you're 'dead' yet. You can go back to get things, but I recommend taking someone with you. I wouldn't say your vampirism is an accident just yet." Morgan said in a monotone voice.

He opened a door in the long hall way with the number 3B on it. A bed sat in the center, neatly made. In the corner, a desk and a chair with nothing else on or in it. Curtains covered the windows letting almost no light in. Along the wall was another door, left open to show the pale tiles of the bathroom. Next to the door a dresser stood with a picture frame, the stock photo of children with sunflowers still in it.

"I'll leave the clothes on the bed. Decorate the room as you see fit. We'll discuss what you did and what you can do after you get cleaned up and clear your head a little. It's a lot to take in."
 
The trek up to a third floor was a blur of colour and time. The finer details lost on him, Kazimir followed Morgan, trying to pay attention but more or less in a zombie-like stupor.

"Go back...okay. Yeah." He nodded and almost tripped over his own feet. "I can do that. Maybe later, though."

Nevermind that he couldn't remember where he'd previously lived; that was something for Future Kaz to deal with. Present Kaz just wanted to drop off into whatever that semi-conscious state of almost-sleep was and call it a day. His bite scars itched dully as Morgan talked. Not an accident? Well, someone had weird taste in humans. He'd been anemic.

Morgan led him to a pleasantly dark room. It seemed almost as if it had never been lived in, though even in his dazed state Kazimir knew this couldn't be the case. He moved past the threshold.

"Thank you," he said, forcing himself to walk past the bed towards the washroom. Unfortunately, the myth concerning vampires and mirrors turned out to be just that. He flicked the light on and was confronted with a bedraggled, black-eyed stranger in the glass. Pale as a mime, except mimes didn't look like they smudged ash under their eyes or like they hadn't cut their hair in ten years.

What a disgusting analogy, he grumbled. In a moment of impulse he dared to open his mouth a crack. He froze. Past the tips of overgrown incisors, the inside of his mouth appeared to be blood red. Oh, fucking hell. No. Nope. Kazimir promptly flicked the lightswitch off again. Pitch-black shower it was.
 
Morgan returned downstairs. Arabella sat on the coach, swinging her legs back and forth. She had a pleased look on her round face, as if Dahlia chasing Cosmo was somehow meditative. She glanced to Morgan, a smile growing on her lips, then back to the living room. Morgan gave a nod of acknowledgement.

He went to a storage room and found a shirt and a couple pairs of pants which might fit Kazimir. The young man probably would have trouble remembering the past few days, maybe even where he lived. Somehow changing did that to a person. One victim barely remembered his name. Another remembered every detail right up to the attack. Morgan sighed at the thought of how many had passed through the house, how many more were out there unsure of what had happened or didn't make it past their first morning.

He left the clothes neatly folded on Kazimir's new bed. He returned once again to the couch with Arabella. He opened a book, waiting for Silver to come back with news.
 
Morgan's reappearance in the living room captured Cosmo's easily-transferable attention span. The ghost lazed through the air, still floating out of reach of Dahlia's arms.

"Hey, Morgan, are we actually keeping this one?" he mused, staring at the ceiling in reference to Kazimir. "Bloodsuckers are a handful without their 'parent', right?"

"Bloodsucker is a rude term," Dahlia interjected. She'd given up her crazed leaps and simply glowered up at the poltergeist. Cosmo rolled over onto his stomach and reached down to wave the smoking herbs in her face, grinning lazily in response.

"I'm just messin'." He dropped the herbs into Dahlia's hands and twisted away before she could swat him.
 
"Yes on both accounts," Morgan replied, looking up from his book. "Vampire parents can be difficult, but at the same time he might be able to help us the mystery of so many vampires showing up. It's changing the balance of the city. None of my sources are helpful in this account."

He pressed his lips together. The excitement of the day distracted him from his troubles for a moment, but he couldn't run from the thought long. Too many vampires had been showing up, far more than normal. He pondered the seemingly endless possibilities that could be the cause of it. Anything ranging from some general fluke, to a rouge, to some sort of plot against the city. Someone had to look into it.

The door of the house opened slowly and Silver entered. She sighed heavily, joining the group in a large chair at the edge of the living room. The scratch across her face seemed to be healing quickly, now a well established scab without any swelling.

"How was the cleansing?" She asked, sour expression on her face and a growl to her voice.
 
One had to wonder how many unattended vampire fledglings were currently running amok in the city-- Cosmo's face portrayed this clearly, as it did all things. He was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of an opening door.

"Welcome back, Silver!" he chimed as usual, lowering himself to the floor to stand amongst the house occupants, who were now arranged around the living room as if it was a council meeting. The ghost extended his arms and twirled. "Dahlia was great. Look how clean I am!"

His usual blue-grey pallor had been brightened to an eyeburning white. It would wear off by nightfall, but for the moment Cosmo was like a human-sized lamp, glowing wisps trailing after every movement. Dahlia plunked down on the coffee table, trying to ignore him.

"If fangs dragged in anything threatening with him, it's gone now." The witch crossed her arms and fixed dark eyes on Silver. "How'd your visit go?"
 
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