Changed Perspectives (Eric)
After 800 years, Nick could sense when the sun was near rising or setting, so it was no surprise when he carefully opened the trunk to peer out that he saw that the sun had dipped below the horizon. Twilight was upon him.
He climbed out of the trunk, using the side of the Caddy for support. Weak. He needed blood. Closing the trunk, he headed around to open the driver's side door, sliding in and reaching over to unlock the glove box. Grateful it was still there, Nick pulled out the bottle, relief turning to disappointment as he realized it was only about a quarter full. It would have to do. He had no idea where he was or where he might find more, but the first step was to take what he had.
He drank thirstily, relieving the majority of his hunger pains and feeling some of his strength returning. As he lowered the bottle, he noticed a piece of paper under the windshield wiper outside. With a sigh, he reached out to retrieve it, noting its battered appearance. It looked as if it had been tumbling around this unknown City for a while now. Flattening out the wrinkles, he was little surprised to find it was an advertisement for a bar. Nick was about to toss it next to him on the seat when one of the words on the paper caught his attention.
Vampires.
Nick eagerly read the rest of the ad in excitement. He momentarily wondered if Janette had a new place, until he remembered...Janette would not be here. Nor would she blatantly advertise such a place. Word of mouth was what made her place popular. The vampire underground was a talkative community when it came to safe spots to hang out.
The ad said the place opened at 10. A glance at his watch told him it was nearly 9 now. Looking around, he spotted a young man walking down the sidewalk in his direction. Jumping out of the car, he ran up to the guy.
"Wait. Can you tell me where this is?"
"Sure. Just saw it this afternoon. If it's still there, it's that way. Turn right at the stop light. It's a ways down, but, as I said, if it's still there, you can't miss it. Place is pretty obvious."
"Thanks."
Nick was pretty sure it was meant as a fantasy bar catering those weird kids who liked to go about pretending they were dark creatures of the night. Goth young people that wanted to take things a step farther as they rebelled against their childhoods and society, drinking wine and pretending it was blood. Nick's experience was that such places were quite often a cover for his own kind. A place to find victims that were all too willing.
The kid seemed to think the place might be shutting down. Hoping for the best, Nick jumped back in the car and drove in the direction the kid had indicated. After a bit, to his relief, he saw it. The young man had been right; it was hard to miss.
Fangtasia. Who thought up these names?
Nick parked the car and waited for the doors to open. He fiddled with the radio, telling himself he really wasn't listening for the Nightcrawler's voice. LaCroix had intended to leave town, and Nick had already figured out he wasn't in Toronto anymore. His normal patience wearing thin, he watched the minutes tick by until it was time at last. He locked the car and hurried across the street. Upon entering the establishment, he noticed two things. First, the interior reminded him instantly of The Raven and his lost Janette. Forcing the memories of her black hair and full lips from his mind, he noticed the second thing. There were definitely others here like him. He made his way to the bar.