Who: Vlad, unconscious Theresa, and OPEN What: Theresa fell down a well and is now unconscious. Vlad needs help. 911. S.W.A.T teams. THE WORKS. Where: Basement/Masquerade ball When: Immediately after this. Warnings: Yelling, lots of water dripping everywhere, and a very cold, unstable, and shirtless Vlad. Notes: O YEA AND EMIL IS DEAD.
A strange sort of numbness was beginning to creep up his legs, and it made every step more difficult. The blood trickling from his scalp had tried and it itched, mingling with the white-hot pain of open wounds against the air. He was shivering, and the more he tried not to the less successful he was; while Theresa hung limply from his arms, her dark hair plastered to her head. The sounds of the masquerade grew nearer, the bright laughter and chatter and music that seemed from a time so long ago. His world was cold, so very cold; even his anger had frozen into something else.
He pushed past the curtain, staggering into the freakishly light room. His vision went blurry, and he found himself turning in circles in an attempt to adjust to the light.
Masks, all around. Nameless, faceless, barely even human. He wondered briefly where Esme was in the sea of faces. Where Helena was.
He knew, he knew, HE KNEW.
"Help." Vlad's voice was weak, catching in his throat. He tried again, raising his voice to a yell despite his raw throat. "HELP. SOMEONE, PLEASE, I NEED HELP."
Another stagger forward, his grip on Theresa iron-tight. "SHE NEEDS MEDICAL ASSISTANCE. SOMEONE HELP US!"