The Universe's Mixer

Dexter remembered very clearly that she'd said to not come back. But he'd told her that if he ever figured out how to fix himself, he'd bring the knife back for safe keeping. Clearly she'd thought that would never happen.

Wasn't she ever going to be surprised.

He'd wrapped the thing up inside of it's sheath in a towel. He hadn't wanted to touch it ever again, lest he be tempted by it. The book was with him as well. If he didn't have the knife, he didn't need the book. And he needed no reminders of either.

Very carefully, Dexter walked into the store, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible.

"Hello?"

Brigitte remembered the stunningly beautiful face of the blonde vampire girl. The werewolf remembered her strange scent without the ability to make sense of it. It had been a long stand off and then there had been nothing.

Brigitte couldn't remember the last time she saw the light of the sun or stars or how long she'd been out. Just that she'd opened her eyes, sitting on the same park bench, surrounded by an island of grass. Outside that island had been nothingness and she'd been afraid to move, able to make out tiny islands of the shattered city displaced in black space.

Eventually The City slowly began to piece itself together, albeit with noticeably black holes where a shop had once been or where someone's house was built. Brigitte didn't move from her bench. She shivered. She was scared and hungry. Brigitte was scared of her hunger.

And so she didn't move.