START OF NIGHT 1
The team had gathered in the meeting room again
Except this time, there was a new guest waiting for them.
The little journal book sat inside a secure case, wrappers tightly and locked with the newest type of security technology. It was delivered by a hooded man near the end of the day, addressed directly to the military. The investigation team had already took the opportunity, examined the contents, and even printed a photocopy for everyone. All that was left to do was to inform the team.
Everyone in the room peered at the worn notebook with an intent curiosity — The diary of the Creator’s most faithful servant...what information could it bring?
Just as everyone started flipping through their own copies, the screen flickered, showing the Team Leader, breathing handily for breath. Behind him was a gigantic round structure, its distinct domes glowing with an eerie golden light. The land around the structure was barren, a dead, ashen colour, as if the life was drained out of it.
The Team Leader wiped his forehead, panting a little. “Team? Checking in, this is the Colesseum, Rome. One of the site of infections. Or so we thought.”
“If you haven’t had time to read the book yet, don’t worry. Most of them are gibberish and random notes, but from the bits and pieces we might just have figured out the solution to fighting back.”
The Team Leader pauses, giving a genuine smile. The room was starkly quiet, taken back by the speed of the news.
“We thought all twelve structures were beacons for giving her power. Apparently not; only those infected beacons are. So we just need to locate and find these beacons, and find a way to close it off.”
Sounds easy, someone from the audience remarked. But how?
The Team leader shushed, waving the question off. “What’s more, it seems that the immortal is weaker when she is feeding. Makes sense, I wouldn’t be as aware of everything when I’m having a meal too. We don’t have to worry about her showing up to the party like she did back at the museum.”
He took a deep breathe, closing his eyes. “And that’s it. Doesn’t give a clear solution, but it’s a start.”
The colosseum behind him casted a soft glow onto his face, reflecting off the sweat dripping down the side of his face, painting shadows on where his frowns lay. For a moment all that could be heard over the call was the whipping sound of the wind, and the occasional shuffle of ash falling onto the earth.
And it was in this quietness, that the people slowly found their hope.
“We will figure this out. Believe me, team. And I will also believe in you.”
——-
“I can’t believe you actually helped them.”
The Librarian closed his book gently, turning towards the voice at the stairwell. The Singer was leaning by the railing, still in the cloak that she wore to deliver the journal. Her hood was drawn back, revealing her perfectly styled hair and porcelain skin. She was turned at the perfect time, preserved forever at her prime.
“I thought you disliked humans. In fact, ‘dislike’ would be too mild to describe it.”
“You hated them, didn’t you?”
The old vampire stared back at her, unspeaking, eyes dark and calm as always. The Singer narrowed her eyes, clicking her teeth in annoyance as she was unable to read his emotions. The first vampire had always been like this. There was this distant feeling with him, where he was always too calm, too steady, too still, and his mind seemed to be very far away.
As if he would fade away into the background any day.
Hurried footsteps sounded from below, as the Commander showed up in no time, taking three flights of stair each step. He huffed, glancing at each of the other vampires once, before reporting what he had seen:
“They’ve figured it out, they’ll probably find a way out of it very soon.”
He stopped, flashing his teeth and turning to stare determinedly at his vampire elder too. His turning was a forceful one. Forced to betray his teammates, and he until this day he still loathed his existence as one of them. But he stayed, as the Librarian has promised him, that very soon the humans might need his help desperately.
“But why? Why help your own enemy, old man?”
The Librarian ignored his words, pushing them and fixing them back to the right place so it doesn’t slip off his nose. Gingerly he picked up the book that he had been reading, flipping open the cover, fingers brushing over the words that he had read many times.
The story of the Creator. The story of his own Creator. Without her, he would long had been a pile of bones in the corner of the dungeon.
“You know? I know her better than every one of you. Humans, vampires, all of you.”
He finally looked up, a calm, thin smile hanging on his face. He was old, very old, and the age had led to a lonely wisdom in him.
“The war has never been us and the humans.”
“It has always been between us all, and her .”
He put down the the book, stepping back to get up and leave, indicating that he was done for the day. Just before the other two left the old vampire turned back, and for once, those dark eyes were masked with a thin sheet of sadness.
“Enjoy this night while you still can.”
————-
No one was lynched.
