A Bad Night Who: Brad and Rhiannon What: Unexpected Attack Where: UNLV campus When: Present, Night Time Content Warnings: Bit of gore, language
It was a strange predicament that Brad found himself in that evening after he had finished his night class. The grounds of UNLV were relatively safe, well lit and monitored regularly, so there was little someone like himself had to fear even if it was the middle of the night. He didn't think anything of going off the path to take the shortcut through the trees towards the bay where his car was parked.
He had definitely not expected that he would be calling Rhiannon for her help but it was the first person who had come into his mind, she'd be more equipped to deal with this kind of an issue than he was. It was still a bit of a shock to him that for the first time he had gotten attacked, well, by the supernatural.
Rhiannon pulled her Challenger into a poorly lit spot near the university parking garage and killed the ignition. The sign posted in front of the space read ‘Faculty/Staff - Decal Controlled.’ Well, if the campus golf cart crew was cruising around at this hour sticking slick receipts under windshield wipers, they could add it to the number of tickets she racked up over the years. It beat having an argument with a city parking official with her shirt covered in demon goop.
She got out of the car in a pair of dark jeans and boots, a long-sleeve crew neck shirt, and her hair in a braid. Brad’s phone call was scant on detail, so when she went to the trunk, she picked out the weapons she thought might be useful and strapped them onto her body: a stake, a scissors katar in sheath, and a mace-brand spray container full of holy water (that one was mostly for fun). She wore a cross necklace, but she tucked it inside her shirt. The hunter shut the hatch and went in search of the cluster of trees the etheric mentioned.
Seeing Rhiannon in the distance, still under that cluster of trees Brad used the torch on his phone to signal where he was, not game to remove his foot from where it was on the creature's neck. With his shirt torn and somewhat bloodied it was clear that Brad had not escaped the encounter untouched, though his worst injuries were the bite to his shoulder and a trickle of blood down his temple, neither of which were life threatening but he’d probably still need to seek medical aid.
When the hunter got closer it would be obvious why he had called, and by his feet lay a vampire with a branch sticking out of its chest. The guy looked to be early twenties and somewhat malnourished. One could only guess what he had been before his conversion. “I think I found one of those asshole vampires you were talking about.” At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor.
“Oh yeah?” As she neared, Rhiannon saw the dark stain on Brad’s shirt. Her fingers twitched, but they didn’t know each other well enough for her to shift the fabric aside and inspect the bite, which she normally did out of morbid curiosity even if the person seemed fine. She took it as a positive sign that he was standing and talking while the other guy… definitely wasn’t.
“Shit.” Rhiannon drew closer and checked out the paler-than-pale cast of the unconscious vampire’s skin. The hunter knelt beside him. He was out cold. She politely nudged Brad’s foot and turned the vampire’s face back and forth. “He looks rough. Did he seem like an actual dick or just starving?”
His foot moved with that nudge and he took a step back, Rhiannon was well and truly equipped to deal with the vampire if it came to so he gave her all the room she wanted. “Well I don’t know much about vampires but I don’t think it’s normal behavior for them to drop on you from a tree like some kind of rabid, blood thirsty sloth.”
His satchel bag with his books and tablet lay a short distance away, the strap ripped apart during the struggle and no doubt the tablet screen would’ve been broken as well, Brad would inspect the damage when he got back home. “But saying ‘Just a little nibble’ while hitting me in the head with that branch could be considered an asshole move.”
Rhiannon paused and looked up at him. “He used the word nibble? Oh he’s an asshole for sure.” She shifted her weight and took the katar out of its sheath. It was a punching dagger, designed with a handle that could be gripped in her fist and a blade that sat atop her knuckles. When engaged, the dagger split apart like a pair of open scissors with a hidden central blade, which made it an excellent tool for taking off a head. Maximum damage without a lot of gross sawing.
She wiped a smudge off the weapon. “I had to ask. If he’s just new at this, he might not know how to control himself. If he’s clubbing you over the head and being weird about it, maybe he deserves to die.” Rhiannon glanced up at Brad. “Are you okay with that?”
There had been rumors around the campus over the past few weeks of people getting stalked and sometimes attacked at night, maybe this was the cause for it and not some serial killer in the making. Brad personally had no qualms with vampires, they had as much a right to live and survive as he did, but attacking innocent college aged kids and almost killing them? He had to draw a line. “Yeah, I hate to think about how many others he’d try and kill if he’s left to be.” Brad let out a soft scoff. “Guess it’s unlucky for him that I’m a bit stronger than his usual prey and put up a fight.” He stood back, not really wanting to get in the way of a hunter with a sharp knife about to decapitate a vampire.
“If you were walking alone, I guess he figured he’d take his chances. He doesn’t sound like a rocket scientist.” Rhiannon reached underneath him in search of a wallet. There was a worn leather one in his right hip pocket, soft from years of use. She opened it and pulled out the vampire’s cards. No sign of a student ID. Out of state license, cheap hotel swipe key, Food Lion MVP card — Whoever he was, he liked a bargain — and very little cash. When she patted his front pockets, there weren’t any hard keys.
“Hotel room squatter?” she guessed, flipping his arms to look at the insides and peeling back his gums to see his teeth. “Maybe he was just down on his luck when he got turned.” That would explain the way he looked. And so it went. Rhiannon took her phone out and texted the location to Vegas Suds for a confirmed body removal, then checked their surroundings. It was a decently shadowy spot. She stood over the vampire, angled his head back, and got her weapon into position.
“Oh! Did you want to hold his head?” She smiled up at Brad through a curtain of dark hair.
The way that Rhiannon worked reminded Brad somewhat of a medical examiner looking over a body at a crime scene, then again Brad probably watched too many crime shows in his free time. “Probably thought it was a great place to hunt, freshman for easy pickings and sophomores for something a bit more challenging.” He mused a bit as he watched Rhiannon check his gums and so forth.
His attention turned back to the hunter when the question was poised. “I’m trusting that you’re not going to slip, or that I’ll end up bloodier than I already am.” It was probably going to be suspicious enough when he went and got checked out, that such an altercation would leave him with more injuries than he actually had as that hit to the head alone should’ve left him with some sort of concussion. Stepping closer Brad knelt down in what he expected to be the better spot to avoid any blood spray, fingers gripping the vampire’s hair. At least it was unconscious.
Rhiannon watched with disbelief as Brad grabbed the vampire’s hair and got on her level. “I was kidding,” she teased. “You don’t have to hold him.” This was going to be one of those acquaintanceships with a lot of miscommunication, she could tell. She gave Brad a few seconds to let go if he wanted. “One, two, three.” She breathed, pulled her arm back, and punched hard with the weapon, the tip making a squelch-crunch as it tore through flesh and trachea, into the spinal column and vertebrae, and exited the other side. Vampiric blood didn’t pump with the same ferocity of humans’, but it did make a hell of a splattering mess. Nothing was ever easy, so it took some wiggling of the weapon to complete the job and get it back out.
When the head was dangling by some soft tissue but more or less detached, Rhiannon stood up. The headless body now looked ridiculous with a branch sticking out of it, so she pulled it out and tossed it aside.
Just cause Brad had a high IQ, it didn’t mean that he knew the intricate details of how to decapitate someone, his mind went to the fate of Henry VIII’s wives and their fates of having to stretch their necks out over the block, maybe it was easier to cut off the head when it was extended out and the unconscious vampire wasn’t about to comply. He did move back when Rhiannon started counting down; he was messy enough as it was and didn’t need the vampire’s blood to add to that already on his shirt.
That sound wasn’t one that he’d forget soon, his face screwing up at the gruesome sight in front of him. Letting out a soft sigh Brad’s shoulders slumped a bit, he had assisted in the death of another supernatural being for which he was feeling a bit guilty, but the vampire couldn’t be allowed to continue attacking college students. “Thanks.” He said, looking at Rhiannon.
“Are you kidding? This is easy.” Rhiannon waved off the gratitude. Blood and clumpy bits of flesh dripped off the dagger as she talked. “You did the hard part.” She bent over and wiped the blades off on the vampire’s clothes so it wouldn’t make a giant mess in her car. “Did he get a lot before you fought him off?” She gestured at her own shoulder area. Some vampires tore the hell out of their victims’ skin and latched on with the ferocity of a Dyson vacuum cleaner. It was surprising how much blood they could chug in a short period of time. Come to think of it, they might share some traits with Brad’s fellow students.
“I had to get replacement fluids once,” she admitted. Rhiannon scrubbed her cheek against her sleeve. “Hunters get bitten more than we like to admit.”
Brad was grateful that he had fed earlier that day and was pretty much top of his game, otherwise he might not have been able to fight it off. Hand to hand combat against a vampire was definitely something he didn’t want to experience again any time soon. His hand raised to the wound where neck meets shoulder, the place where the vampire had latched on. “Not a lot, maybe a pint at the most.” He wasn’t feeling any ill effects or lightheadedness from blood loss so he mustn’t have lost much.
“Might head to a clinic later, make sure he didn’t give me a concussion.” Brad gestured to his head, the bleeding had stopped but that didn’t mean that his brain didn’t get a bit scrambled when it was hit, better to be safe than sorry. “Could’ve been worse though.” A flash of a smirk. It would’ve been much worse if he wasn’t an etheric and just a normal human, though he wasn’t going to say that out loud.
“I can’t recommend that enough,” Rhiannon said. With blood loss and broken bones, she wasn’t as careful as she might have been. Brain injuries were the one thing she didn’t fuck with; it was how she’d lost her mother. As she looked at Brad, she listened to the night sounds of campus: insects, humming lights, an HVAC unit on a building. “So what’s the deal? Are you ever going to tell me what emotion you feed on? If you want, I’ll trade you a piece of information for it.”
Brad was already thinking of a cover story to tell those at the clinic that would cover both the head injury and the visible bite on his shoulder - that he got in a fight with a jacked up mugger who attacked him with a bat. Hopefully it was accurate enough to ward off suspicion. He did let out a soft chuckle when Rhiannon finally guessed his species. “I could tell you what it is but where’s the fun in that? A trade sounds fair, what have you got?”
“How would I know what you find interesting?” Rhiannon smiled. “Ask me a question. And if you absolutely have to demonstrate instead of just coming out with it, fine.” The brunette put out a hand to him, the one that wasn’t splashed with blood droplets and holding an older-than-dirt weapon from India. “Do whatever it is you do.”
“How about just giving me a head’s up if there’s any hunters in town targeting my kind?” Brad asked, it wasn’t that big a thing to ask, a bit of forewarning so he knew to lay low. Although he didn’t need to take her hand, making physical contact did make it easier for him to feed, not that he’d really be taking anything from her. His palm rested on hers, the tendrils searching for her aura and drawing out that happiness that he fed from. Brad was never sure how someone would react - some would just smile, while others burst into laughter. No two were the same. “How are you feeling?”
“I’d do that anyway,” Rhiannon said. She didn’t share a perspective with those kinds of hunters anymore, if she ever had. His request was more of a gut-punch than Brad probably intended. As they stood hand in hand, it made her think of her bloodline, of Sean, Rob, and even Ciara, and what had been lost in setting herself apart from them. There was a thin, pink scar on her upper arm from the last time she and her uncle had an argument.
So when that memory hit, the etheric might have experienced a twinge of that dull sadness, or even some physical pain, before Rhiannon quickly stuffed her feelings back into the dark corner of her mind where they dwelled. It took a few seconds before what the etheric was doing could restore her mood and lift it. Rhiannon didn’t laugh, but she did feel a rush of warmth in her chest, the kind she only got around those who were or had been closest to her, people like Noah, Tasha, Frankie, and Cian. Her shoulders relaxed, her eyes softened, and it was such a vulnerable experience that she took her hand back as soon as she had a label for it.
Happy.
Letting go was a strange feeling, like a cloud passing over the sun. Rhiannon laughed under her breath. “I don’t think most hunters have anything to fear from you, anyway. Hang around us and you’d probably starve.”
Brad did feel Rhiannon’s sadness and it did cause his face to contort a bit, as if he had just got kicked in the shin but it was only momentary as that happiness came through. He’d have to admit that it was strange doing this with someone who was aware of what he was doing, feeding was so much easier when his prey had no idea what was going on and most of the time were already pretty happy due to some liquid courage.
He let his hand fall back to his side and he too chuckled at the statement about starving around hunters. “Guess I’ll just have to eat well before I meet up with any of you.” Brad then looked down at the vampire near their feet. “Thanks again. Might have to start carrying a knife to the night classes.”
“Maybe a real stake?” she suggested instead. A knife was at its best when a vampire was down, and Las Vegas wasn’t known for its plethora of trees. “Besides, if you get caught with it on campus, they’ll ask less questions than if you have a knife. Strange but true.” A stake could be explained away as a prop or even a wedging tool. Once she had claimed hers was a door stopper and it was easier for the school security guard to buy that flimsy excuse than the truth.
“I’ll see you around. I’m gonna toss this off-site,” she said, referencing the wallet. Rhiannon knew that at any moment, a van would pull up to manage the remains, and if anyone else came upon them first, she didn’t really want to be standing over a beheaded body.
A real stake sounded like an easier option, if it ever happened again he probably wouldn’t be as lucky with his surroundings. “Good thinking.” He didn’t want to know how Rhiannon knew that less questions would be asked about a stake over a knife but he took her word for it.
“Yeah… I should go get this looked at.” Once again Brad gestured to his temple. He took some steps back towards where his bag and some of its contents were still lying on the ground which only took him a minute to gather back up, it was better for both of them to leave no evidence that they were ever there.