Summary: Super soakers and garlic just don't cut it. Anon has a lifeline to use, and a certain Math teacher's got the right connections. Humans look out for each other, right? Right? Tuesday 5:00 AM Sometimes I wonder how things got this far. I just wanted to coast on through the school year, enlist in the military, apply to college, get a job...Something. I never thought I'd end up involved with a Pterodactyl going through an identity crisis. But here I am, laying right next to one, staring at the ceiling again. I didn't even have to look at the clock to know morning was approaching. But then again, the two of us never did get any sleep once Ripley, Sam, and Naser left. Quite the opposite, actually. I'll give you some advice. Don't ask any questions when the woman....enbie, whatever you're tussling with under the sheets is dead. Throw all your morals out the door. Fang might be technically considered "Dead", but that Ptero was alive in more ways than one throughout the night. Turning to look at Fang, I couldn't tell if she was asleep, or just faking it. Sitting up, I soon swing my legs over to my side, and stand up, grabbing the articles of clothing strewn about the floor. Funny, I even find myself shivering slightly. Can't imagine how Fang must be feeling with no body heat. I give her one last look before I venture into the bathroom for a long, hot shower. They say a shower's the perfect time for thinking, and boy did I do a lot of that. The forum post, how Carldewskii can help, Ripley actually giving me some respect, Trish and Reed, Naomi. Pretty sure I ran the hot water down, too. Once out of the shower, I take a good look into the mirror. Hickies on the neck again, pretty sure there was a bite or two. Honestly, the territory markings aren't what I'm focusing on, it's the scaring on my left ribcage. I can see where Reed got me pretty good, but running a hand along the skin, it's like it never happened. Fang wasn't kidding about patching me up. I don't want to know how she did that. Breakfast can wait. Once fully dressed, and a thorough teeth brushing, I soon step into the main room of the den, only to see Fang sitting up on the bed, covering herself with the blanket. Her blood red eyes bore into me, a small smile forming. "....Mornin' Dweeb." I grin in return. "Mornin' Dracula." I comment in return. A simple bird flip is all I get. I reply with a "Tch.." I got some time to kill, so why not visit that shitty Romanian forum again. Fang for once was actually curious about what I did in front of that computer screen. I can feel her presence hovering over, a cold dead hand resting on the desk. Going through the bookmark, I pull up the thread. "Look at you, tryin' to say ahead of the game. Any of this shit actually help?" Fang asks, as her eyes scan the posts, and taking in some of the images the users had left. I just shrug. "Some of it helped. The Holy water, and the Garlic. The super soaker idea was from some shitty horror film I watched when I was little. Let me tell you, Naser wasn't too impressed with it at first." I chuckle. "...It does sound sorta stupid when you think about it." Fang muses, giggling lightly. "Go to hell." I reply. The Pterodactyl punches me in the shoulder gently. The thread did get a few new replies, and one in particular stood out. Some user named Tr1gg3rbl4st3R mentions silver. It was tl;dr worthy, but given the situation? I read the entire thing. Pretty sure Fang was, too. The gist of it was Silver essentially weakens a vampire, to the point the creature is pretty vulnerable, and much less powerful. "Huh...Silver was used in mirrors back then? That explains...." Fang began commenting, trailing off. She was remembering something. I turn to look up at her. "....Your parents have one?" She glances down at me and nods. "....After I swiped dad, I kinda had a little....moment. The mirror in their room is pretty old. I remember mom saying it was handblown glass or something my grandma had made. Anyway, before I got the fuck out of there, I only saw Dad in the mirror, didn't even see me." She shudders lightly. I recall when she entered the bathroom the first time she stayed over. "Yeah, but what's scarier?" I ask. Fang replies with a raised eyebrow. "Not seeing your reflection? Or...a rotting one?" That's when she glances away. That mirror is still smashed by the way. I should really get a replacement. "Ugh, don't remind me." She comments, a hand resting on her forehead, pushing some bangs out of her red eyes. "Soooooo.....about Naomi..." I began. Didn't want to pry too quickly. I'm sure Fang wasn't too keen on spilling the details. She did hate that Parasaur. A lot, actually. "...Oh fuck. Yeah...." She sighs. "I forgot about her." Fang pushes herself from the desk, and moves to take a seat back on the bed. "Imagine being with her eternally. For Naser's sake, I hope we can fix this, and fast." I comment, as I spin on the chair to face her. "Pretty sure that's why Grimald got her. He really hates you two right now." "Is that why he sent Trish and Reed after me?" I ask. "Well, that was probably all Trish. Some of the stuff she says about you is....pretty bad." Fang comments, lifting her head to look at me for a moment. I sigh. "......Ever spoke out?" I soon ask. Fang bites her lower lip. "I...I was scared to at first, Anon. But something changed in me last night. While she was attacking Naser, she just unloaded again. I couldn't take it anymore, and bit back. Honestly, It felt....nice." a smile slowly forms on my lips. "Hey, I try not to let it bother me, Fang. If she wants to hate me, that's all on her. It's tough at times, but honestly? I don't care." Fang immediately shoots me a glare. "Well I do. I can't have her berating you behind your back to me all the god damn time. It doesn't help that Reed just blows it off, either." her arms cross over her chest. I sigh again. "I don't want to be the wedge that prys you three apart, Fang. You can't get back any of that time wasted. Believe me, not a day goes by I regret wasting three years at my old school. I should've transferred sooner." Fang raises a brow again. "...You know, you never did tell me why you left your old school, dweeb. Did you fuck up that bad?" I bite my lower lip. Fuck. Should I come clean? I mean it does feel like my days are numbered right about now..... Why not. "Remember how everyone laughed at you in the Auditorium, Fang?" I ask. She sneers for a moment. "...Yeah, what about it?" She soon asks, a day better left forgotten. "I want you to imagine that happening to you the entire year. But let's ramp it up a little. It starts with mocking you. Then it spreads to social media, like Paleobook. Let's tack on some more. Then, people start recording you, shoving you into lockers." Fang's eyes widen, her teeth start gritting. "Did you do any-" I soon cut her off. "It got pretty bad, Fang. To the point I began considering....things. Look, I know Trish likes to call me a shut in. It's the truth. I always was a shut in. That forum post you were reading?" I gesture to the computer. "...That's my life past five years. It's pathetic. I can talk to people easily over a computer screen, but I suck at it when it comes to life. When winter break rolled around senior year, I nearly crossed the line of no going back. Let's just call it that." There's this little trepidation shake in my lower lip, like I'm about to cry. God this feels so pathetic. ".....You're not Pathetic, dweeb." I muttered that, didn't I? "...What stopped you?" She asks. "...My parents. I guess mom caught wind, or saw what was said about me. I had my moment like you did, on the school's roof. Let me tell you, keeping all that bottled up hurts. Hurts even more when you finally spill it all over the floor. Should I have said something sooner? Absolfuckinglutely. Do I regret those three and a half years? Not a day goes by without me thinking about doing things differently. I can't change the past, Fang." I soon stood up from my chair, and moved to take a seat next to the undead Pterodactyl. I can feel her arms and wings wrap around me, as she rests her head on my shoulder. "You know. I just wanted to get this school year over with, fuck off, and get on with life. But, you know what? That all changed after meeting you. Something about you....I just can't seem to piece it together. It's like we're cut from the same cloth." Fang grins lightly, before she rests her chin on my shoulder, her snout lightly nuzzling against the side of my cheek. "....You sound way more cornier when you talk, Dweeb." "...Fuck you." I soon flick her forehead. No retaliation, but a giggle. I break eye contact, and stare at the floor. "....Does this mean we're....together?" I ask, turning to glance into her red eyes. Her lips soon meet mine, those hands grabbing hold of my cheeks. A good minute goes by before she pulls away. "Absolfuckinglutely." She replies, mimicking what I said earlier. ------------------------------------------ Tuesday: 7:30 AM Loading and unloading my locker, I must've gotten a text. Glancing into the screen, it was Fang. Fang: Keep an eye on my brother dweeb. I'll keep Naomi busy. <:V I soon reply. "I'll make sure he knows that." Fang soon replies. "Fuck u." Like clockwork, Naser soon calls out to me in the hallway. I pocket the phone, and turn towards grey Pterodactyl. "Sleep well?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck lightly. I just shrug. "...As well as anyone can with a vampire looming over them." Naser snirks lightly. "I checked with the front desk, Naomi's absent." I sigh in relief. Thank god, I don't have to deal with the orange crowbar prying today. "....Anyway. Keep me updated, Anon. I really want to know what Mr. Carldewskii's got for us." I give him a thumbs up. "You know it. We'll talk at lunch." Naser soon holds out a fist, signaling a fist bump. I happily oblige, and the two of us separate and go about our days. Homeroom was a breeze, didn't even have to focus. So a little shitposting was in order. Gotta loosen up before math class. Science was a bit of a slog without Fang, but I manage. Since we're together, I even decide to show how much I really care, and do Fang's homework. She could pay me later. I won't hold her to it, of course. But then again...... Tonsil Hockey can wait. The moment of truth, and Math class began. Mr. Carldewskii began the usual way, telling everyone to sit down, and go on about the lesson and how it helps out later in life. Funny, without Trish and Reed, I actually began to listen. He kept going on about the stock market and gambling. Never did pick up on that until now....Whatever. When the lunch bell rings, and the crowd thins out, Mr. Carldewskii soon speaks up. "You ain't goin' anywhere, Anon. We got some discussin' to do." I try and act surprised, but there's a reason I'm not in the drama club. I grab an empty chair, and drag it right up to his desk. "Spears tells me yous got a bit of a problem, eh? Girl trouble, huh?" "Mr. Carldewskii, it's sorta..." He soon cuts me off. "Just call me Carl. Cut the formal crap. Tell me everything, kid. Pull that frickin thorn outta your side." I begin explaining everything. The bat, Fang turning into a vampire, Reed and Trish turning into one and attacking me. That meeting I had with Fang's parents. Everything. I even ignore the vibration coming from my phone during all that. "Vampires, huh? Frickin' bloodsuckas. You know, I had a few run ins with those pale bozos a few times back in Jersey." I soon raise a brow. Huh, small world. "Jersey?" I ask. "New Jersey, dumbass. Stones throw away from New York. Anyway, yeah, Vampires. Friggin neighbors house was owned by one. Let me tell you sumthin. Never buy a house without doin' a little detective work. Vampires do more than drain blood. They drain property values with the friggin freaks they rent to. Every Halloween some freaky shit always ends up happenin next door. Always when the friggin giants are playin' too." I nod intentively. "....How long have you dealt with them?" I ask. "About a decade. First few years was hard. Luckily I knew some....shall we say people with some good connections. I did them a few solids, scratched their backs, they scratched mine. KnowwhatImean? Next thing I know, I'm educated." "...Soo, how's this going to help me?" I ask. Carl soon slams both his hands on his desk. "I'm gettin' to that, hold yer frickin horses. Like I said, I know some....people. Good people, just uhh, don't owe them any money, and pay them back on time." He soon leans to the right and pulls out a piece of paper, and began scribbling on it. It's an address. "I already called them this mornin'. Just show up, you don't gotta explain nothin'. Been through this crap plenty a times." I was beginning to think this was turning into weapons deal. Sure did sound like one by how Carl was being vague. But at this point, I don't care. "...Got it. Don't ask questions, and be straightforward." "Damn straight, kid. Now uhhh, I helped you out..." I soon raise a brow. "Don't tell me." I comment. "Need help with something in return?" "You catch on quick, real friggin quick. I know you hang out with that winged lizard...uhhh..Fang i think they call her now? That purple ankle biter talks about her a lot.....Anyway. Yeah. I could use a little....help." "...Go on." I comment, leaning back in the chair. "Down in little troodon on weekends, there's this....Raptor or somethin', bright friggin orange, beautiful lookin' broad. Even got this little red barbed wire tattoo....I think. She cooks up these beef franks, reminds me of the friggin dogs at the Giants games I used to go to." I'm pretty sure I know who he's talking about. The Hotdog seller at the park, and occaisionally found throughout town. Didn't think Carl had a thing for scalies.... "I know who you're talkin' about. I've seen her throughout little Troodon, too." "You have? Friggin' sweet! Anon, you gotta be my wingman. Just help me with the setup, get the little ball rollin'. Been outta the datin' scene for awhile, but trust me, I've been round the block plenty a times." I mentally gag. There's no way this guy has a way with words, or could swoon a prostitute. But hey, he helped me. It's the least I could do. ".....Alright, I'll help. How's the weekend sound?" "Deal. Don't you friggin' call it off either. I know that pink raptor gives yous the homework sheets." I feel my heart skip a beat. How long did he know....? "But don't friggin sweat it. Half the shit I teach won't help you anyway....But the stock market, or a little gamblin'? I know some math that'll help with that. Believe me, that's how I got outta Jersey." I soon glance at the clock. Lunch was almost over. "Anyways, you free to go. Scram, and put a good word in for me next time you talk to spears will ya?" I soon stood up and take the note, pocketing it. Giving Carl a thumbs up, I exit the classroom, only to be met with Naser who was a about to knock. As he was about to speak, I cut him off. "Carl came through." I soon show him the note with the address on it. It had time on it. 5:00 PM. Naser then nods. "I'll drive you there, Anon." I bid the Pterodactyl goodbye, before hurrying towards the cafeteria. A simple sandwhich. Scarfing it down in the span of a few minutes, I'm ready to face afternoon classes. -------------------------------------- Tuesday 4:30 PM Fang: Hey dweeb. Naomis here. Shes got some info for you. I soon show the text to Naser, as he's driving. Probably not the best idea. He can't even believe what he read. "You're fucking with me, right? Fang and Naomi are actually talking?" He asks, bewildered. I scroll up to show him the other text, worrying about him. "I think it's genuine." I reply, scrolling up before showing him the screen again, the message ordering me to watch his back. "Think Fang's still pulling your leg, now?" I hold the phone up for him again. He soon gazes at the other text, and a small smile forms. We soon turn our attention back to the road. Deep in Skin row, it's looking more and more like Baltimore. Smashed out windows everywhere, homeless tents in empty lots, call dinos flagging cars down. Skin row's really that bad, huh? The address given to me leads to this strip mall. There's an alley way that leads to the shipping area behind the three small buildings. Naser decides its best to park inside of it. As he kills the ignition, I step out from the passenger seat. "Let me do the talking, Naser." Naser nods, twirling the keys in an index finger. "..Got it." As we venture deeper behind the buildings, a black sedan is parked, trunk open. One huskier looking guy with darker skin and a scrawny looking guy with pale skin. Both dressed in a track suit, one red, one green, and both had these gaudy looking gold chains draped around their necks. The heavier set guy soon stops me and Naser. "Ey, ey. Hol on, arms up." I raise my arms lightly, signaling Naser to do the same. The heavier guy pads me down, making sure I didn't have anything, before he pads Naser down as well. "Out with the phones." He soon demands. I sigh, before removing mine. Naser Removes his, along with his keys. The burley man then places them on the roof of the car. "Aight. All clean, Frankie!" He comments, to the other man, whom was busy looking back in the trunk. The heavier man had this Boston accent, the sorta voice you hear when a debt collector comes knockin' on your door with a baseball bat. Pretty sure this guy was in the mob. "Splendid." he replies, before beckoning the two of us over. "Sorry about the little....shakedown there. Can't have anyone listenin' in, you know how it is..." This guy, Frankie wasn't any better. Only his voice was a bit sleezy. The kinda guy who bullshits his way into a manager position. Naser crosses his arms, not impressed at all. I just shrug. "...Don't sweat it. So....Carl says you got some stuff?" Frankie soon grins. "Dispatchin' some coffin' dwellers, huh? I got everythin' you need right here, kid. Check it out." He soon pulls me over to get a better look inside the trunk, Naser soon peers over my shoulder. Inside, a case of what looked like lawn darts, theres around twenty of them, silver tips at the end of them. Naser immediately had this look of confusion as I remove one, and inspect it. I've seen these before on Primal warrior I think.... "Are these.....fuck, those old Roman darts...." I try to recall the name, snapping my finger a few times. "Plumbata." Frankie finally comments. "Yeah, those! These detatch, right?" I ask, as it test the sharpness with a finger tip. Very sharp. "Someone's been payin' attention in history class. Hell yeah they do. One good throw, they go in about an inch. Yank it out, the dart tip stays in. Ounce of silver a piece in these here beauts." He soon grabs one, inspecting it. Naser chimes in. "Why silver? I thought that works on werewolves only." "Whaddaya a comedian? Works on vamps, too. Just doesn't kill em. Makes em a little weak in the knees, enough to give them the Romanian shiskabob, a few licks across the face, haymaker, whateva." A chuckle escapes. I pick up on some of the lingo, but Naser's absolutely lost. I place the dart back into the case, and gaze at some of the other items. about six blood bags were in there, too. "...What's with the blood bags?" I ask Frankie soon grins. "Bait! C'mon, how do you think you draw these pale fucks out? O- negative. Don't ask where I got it from, cuz I ain't tellin' you. Get creative with it. Add a little silver, holy water, some garlic. You know, it's like tellin' a kid horseradish is icecream! Ruins the day...err, night. Hah." Naser rolls his eyes, inspecting one of the bags, before placing it back down with the rest. "You know, that actually.....that's pretty crafty. So, about the holy water and garlic." I soon ask, inspecting a blood bag. Frankie raises a brow. "Honestly? That shit repels. Keeps em out, provided you didn't invite them in, y'know? But bein' dead, they won't stop comin'. That's where the sun comes in. All you'll manage to do is piss em off, kid." Maybe that's what we were doing last night all along.... I glance back down and set the blood bag back with the rest. I soon remove a flashlight there's another one in there, too. I soon flip the switch, and the light has this odd, purple like glow. It's pretty intense, too, as I shine it on my hand, I can feel the warmth. "Ultraviolet. Closest thing you can get to the sun, kid. Lets just say it comes from a few.....organic farmers. That's all you gotta know." I already know what he's talking about. Pot farmers. Funny, grow lights repelling vampires. "Gives them a good jolt, like starin' into the sun. They'll be seein' spots after that. On their skin. Hah." Naser soon began inspecting some other objects. Minor stuff, like a few holsters, a strap for the silver lawn darts, but he soon removes a vintage looking firearm with a large barrel. Kinda looked like a flare gun. "Easy there, tar dweller. Pocket Morter. Or as we call them today? Flare gun. Carl told me baldy here's still in school, so I can't give yous the good stuff, not till after you graduate." Naser soon raises a brow. "...Soo what? This is just a warning? Signal for help." He points it at the ground, a mock test shot, before he bends the barrel forward, experimenting with the weapon idly. "Where you find this guy? Friggin' questions.... Naw, dumbass. You fire the flare right at em! Burns pretty hot. Not thermite hot, but enough to get them offa ya. I even got a few flares that explode, too. Just uhh, give yourselfs some distance. Ain't the most accurate weapon out there...." Naser soon places the flaregun back in the trunk, his eyes soon catch sight of another case. Just as he's about to grab it, Frankie soon grabs it. It pops open with a loud "CLICK". "And here we have the ol' British beater, Anglo Assessino. This shit here's the reason the British hate the French, I think...." Inside is a crossbow, jet black, from the prod to the tiller. It even has a scope on it. "Carbon fiber, ergonomic, and not to mention? Quiet like a mouse. Best part about it? Point and click. " He demonstrates as he pulls the bolt back, and a barely audible click is heard. He pulls the trigger, and a wisp is heard, no reverberation. "Deer can't even hear this thing fire, kid. But what's a crossbow without any ammo?" He gestures back into the case. Seven ebony colored stakes neatly packed. Wooden, too, not to mention shark as hell. "One shot through the heart, and you'll have enough ash to fertilize your garden." He chuckles. The crossbow is soon laid back into the case, before I put the ebony stake back in. Naser was definitely impressed, I can tell by how he was looking at that crossbow. Better than claws.... "And that there's everythin' you twos gonna need." The dealer began to place everything inside a duffel bag, making sure everything was neatly packed, before zipping it up, and hoisting it out of the trunk. "Rememba kid. I don't know you. You don't know me." He then glances towards the Pterodactyl, then back to me. "....Good you got a little backup on this. Let me tell you, goin' in alone ain't smart. Trust me. I've been down that route." I simply nod, as I hold out my hand to grab the duffel bag. Fuck was it heavy. I soon slung it over my shoulder, feeling it nearly weigh me down. "Thanks..." I reply, holding out a hand for him to shake. Frankie soon shakes my hand. "Tell Carl we're square. And if he needs a little advice on the next Giants game...." I soon give the man a thumbs up. "..Got it. Thanks guys." "Ey! Ben! Give em the phones back, their broads are probably worried sick." The burley looking man soon grabs the two phones and the set of keys, returning mine, and Naser's. We began to stroll away from the deal, as the two dealers got into their car. Once out of hearing distance, Naser soon chimes in. "....Do all humans act this paranoid when selling stuff?" I chuckle lightly. "Watch some more mobster movies. You'll understand." "I call shotgun on that crossbow." Naser says. "I got the flare gun." I reply. "Ten darts a piece?" Naser muses "Totally." I give him a thumbs up. "What about the flashlights?" He asks. "I got some ideas for them. We got some work to do back at my place." Little duck tape, maybe a zip tie.... Once inside the car, I begin tapping at my phone, texting Fang. Anon: "We got some stuff. Got somethin' for u 2." I'm sure Fang wouldn't mind one of those blood bags, right? Besides, I can't have her biting me every night....even if it feels good. A few minutes later, Another text. Fang: hurry up dorks. we're hungry. Maybe those blood bags will come in handy after all.... [NOTES] Just in time for thanksgiving. Carl's the best when going to for advice. Remember that. Plus, the Math teacher isn't quite out of the story, yet. Little bonus chapter I got lined up once the main story's finished. Anyways, next chapter will be a bit of a stretch, and a certain someone will offer a hand.