Chapter Text
"That's … PEARL-PEARL, YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!" Cleo's voice boomed in Pearl's ears, jolting her. Cleo never yelled, and neither did Pearl; they always heard each other. Yelling only dredged up old Oakhurst memories neither wanted to reminisce on.
So for Cleo, her Cleo, to be yelling for her … Pearl knew it meant something was wrong. Really wrong.
The instincts in her head warred: run or bat? Like most days, batting won out, and in moments, Pearl was in the air, wings carrying her to Cleo. When she made it to her destination, her eyes first scanned Cleo. She felt her body relax, realising she wasn't injured. However, as she followed Cleo's gaze, she felt the dread seep back into her bones. She barely managed to take in the carnage that was before her as she slipped out of her bat state.
"What the fuck happened here?" which was a dumb question. Clearly, Cleo didn't know. She was calling Pearl over for that very reason. But the sheer brutality before her had left Pearl at a loss for anything even slightly more astute.
Cleo crouched on the cold ground next to the entrance of the long, purposely abandoned crypt. She ran a claw through the blood on the ground. "A massacre of - chickens?"
"Whatever it was, it got to some cattle and sheep too - I can smell it even from here," Pearl added grimly.
The real question, though, was why? Why was the blood here? These farm animals have long been domesticated and kept safe near the humans and far away from something as brutal and wild that would be capable of this.
Most importantly, where were the animal bodies? Even when they drank the blood of animals before feasting on the flesh they left behind, as vampires often do, there would still be remnants left behind. Bones, Feathers, Fur, proof of the life sacrificed. Pearl would know that shit got stuck in her teeth.
But the crypt before them held nothing but blood and dust. That was unsettling.
"It's has been almost two years, that's … there IS a pattern here," Pearl said grimly. Cleo understood what was implied, but still didn't want to believe it. "They're going to visit in three weeks anyway-"
"And you're saying that we should- what? have them come back earlier, almost to the day the whole shitfest started? No. No, absolutely not, Pearl! That will cause irreparable issues. Shelby and Drift would be hurt, and you know it would completely destabilize Scott!" Cleo interjected.
"You don't give him enough credit, he's tougher than that-"
"Not when it comes to anything that could remotely touch the subject of Avid, and this is where he died. We can't afford for that damn curse-"
"We are not cursed-"
"-That DAMN curse to use this to set Scott on a murder spree that kills that damn town we've cultivated, we're not calling them."
In the span of the conversation, Cleo had all but thrown herself upward and away from the crypt and towards Pearl, allowing her to see not just that spark of irritation she clearly felt, but also the pain.
The same pain Pearl felt at the idea of ripping open old wounds for their once irritants and now dear friends.
But Pearl had something gnawing at her gut. knew she was right, and she knew what she had to say- "something messed with the graves, Cleo."
"Not-"
"-Owen, Legunda- everyone's graves."
Cleo had nothing to say, nothing she could say. Pearl was right. They had to call the Coven.
The city's symphonies of banging, honks, and general chaos drifted through the various open windows. Mixing into the apartments' laughter and music in a way that the three inhabitants had learned to appreciate. The night's half moon's glow complemented the trio's pale complexion in such a beautiful way it could only be …
Vampires.
"Scott!" Shelby cried out in a mix of concern and exasperation. Of all the things Shelby had expected Scott to have announced to her and Drift, this was an unwelcome surprise. She should have expected this. After all, it had been a while since Scott had brought home another boy toy. Shelby realized with defeat that she soon would need to play therapist when this inevitably blew up.
"Oh- Don't be like that. He's-" Scott trailed off, and Shelby could practically see the cogs in Scott's head as he tried to piece together the right words to make her support this. A waste of effort, as Scott's silver tongue had lost its power over Shelby and Drift several decades back.
But she did want to know hear about this guy, if only to prepare herself and then Drift. They both tried to get along with Scott's boyfriends, but it was always … SO awkward!
They both tried to seem supportive, Scott's interests were always either douchbags or creepy Avid copies that left Scott emotionally wrecked, no matter what happened. Thus, the phenomenon of Scott's love life made her and Drift understandably wary! It was always fifty-fifty on them. This Brandon character was probably fine, but that meant he looked like Avid and this close to the anniversary- Not Good.
"He's nice?" Scot finally managed. Ah, an Avid copy then, Shelby concluded.
"He's nice! He's nice, and you want to bring him to your home, our home? The vampire home?" Drift questioned.
Bless Drift for the upfront, no tact, straight to the pointedness that Shelby adored about her, because Shelby herself is currently going through stages of grief, yet unnamed, and couldn't voice those questions herself.
Scott seemed to realize the hole he was digging and attempted to harness the jagged edges of what was left of the evil vampire within him to fight back on why his new boyfriend, Brady, should be allowed over. Until realizing that part of him was rarely of any use to him, and kicking it to the dust in a desperate grasp for control in his rage.
Shelby would normally have hopped in earlier, but she was caught off guard. However, she's back on the horse, ready to jump in when Drift's blackberry rings. The fun wolf song she had for Pearl's number. That makes Scott and Cleo groan every time they here it, but makes Her, Pearl, and Drift laugh no matter what.
"This is not over- Hello?" Drift said as she leaped over the couch in a grace that was only afforded to the undead and raising a finger at Scott with a narrowed glare as she answered. Scott's only reply was to stick out his tongue, roll his eyes, and fuss with his jacket as he tried to melt into his chair, peeved at his friend's reactions to his wonderful new 'partner,' Brad.
Shelby watched her slide across the floor as she moved into the kitchen. It was a performance; they were vampires, they could hear the entire conversation, but the habits were too useful not to keep. Turning towards Scott, Shelby tried again, "You know I love you-"
"I don't like that- that tone, my boyfriend is perfect." Of course, Scott thought he was perfect; he was a stand-in for the very man who kick-started his whole feeling thing.
"I'm sure he's lovely…” Shelby faltered, trying to find the words that would seep past the defensiveness Scott refused to drop, “You just do this all the time, and we just-"
Scott opened his mouth, ready to start a fight. Quickly, Shelby added, “Granted, not as much as recent decades, but still, there's a clear pattern. We are your friends, and we’re concerned about you.” Seeing Scott soften slightly at her words, Shelby gave this conversation one last try. “Maybe you should take on a hobby instead-”
“And what would I do? Write like you? Oh, or take on another instrument? News flash! I already have those skills, Shelby.”
Shelby took a deep breath, begging the powers that be to give her strength. Maybe if he took up knitting, the week-long flings would stay gone and the stick up his ass about his superiority to basic tasks would slip, just a little. For fucks sake, she couldn't be expected to fix all of Scott’s issues, she was just one girl after all. Drift didn’t help much, seeing how she had her own apartment. A haven from Scott’s melodramatic tendencies.
After concluding that there would be no divine strength granted to her, Shelby determined that she was done being nice.
"Well, god forbid you learn you learn how to knit- wait, you write?" The revelation filled her with excitement that cut through her anger. This opened up so many possibilities! She could work with this; maybe taking Scott to a poetry class could fix him, since he won't go to therapy.
Scott's snarky grin melted off his face, his body language transforming into an animal that had clearly just realized it had been backed into a corner, and he looked ready to run-
"WHAT!" Drift cried from the kitchen.
Playful banter and fake fear abandoned Scott was over and across the room a second before Shelby was, a vicious lunge they both took towards where Drift's shrill shriek had resonated from. their reactionary instincts that had long since been honed to a sharp, deadly point, pushing them toward their coven member.
Drift looked physically unharmed. There didn't appear to be a threat nearby, and Shelby was coming to the rather embarrassing conclusion that Pearl most likely let loose something that set Drift off- not an actual threat, which was … well, Shelby could feel her claws and teeth in their dropped position and out of the corner of their eye they could see the same was true of Scott.
"H-Hold on, I need to tell them. call me back- Okay?" Drift appeared somewhat reassured by whatever Pearl was saying, although not enough to remove whatever made them look about as ill as they could look when they were … well, dead already.
Scott was clearly still feeling the panic and false adrenaline that did not run in their system anymore. He moved even closer to place a hand with claws just barely tucked away on Drift’s arms.
"What's happening? You were particularly shrill, Drift? Not that you aren't usually loud, but that was" Scott blabbered. He had clearly tried to pull up a veil of scathing commentary that had fallen short in his fear.
"What's going on, Drift?" Shelby asked.
Drift looked shaken, holding herself up with the kitchen counter. She looked to be stealing herself "That was Pearl, some- Something's happening in Oakhurst, something at the beacons."
Who was making that noise … Shelby couldn't …
Scott hated going back to Oakhurst; he loathed it. He only tolerated it to see Avid, but if he could move the grave out of that horrid town, he would. But Avid's grave held no body. Moving a symbolic grave was not an option- his pride had taken more than a few hits in recent centuries; it couldn't take much more.
But this, THIS, going back earlier than ever, for far longer, was simply intolerable. But he had to tolerate it, because something was going on in Oakhurst and he'd vowed to be better. A promise extracted from the Doc to do no harm, and a later one from Drift, one awful night, drunk off their arses and more than a little weepy from talking about Avid. She had made him promise to be better, kinder.
She said Shelby wouldn't ask it, so she would.
And now here he was going back to try and fix whatever awful thing was started up by that town's fucking curse. If those beacons got them trapped in that town again, Scott didn't care; he was killing every human in the town-
-' so much for getting better,' he thought, still just the same damn monster he's always been- "SCOTT!"
"What"
"You weren't paying even the tiniest bit of attention, were you?"
God damn it, he wasn't- but … fuck, he wasn't going to admit that, even with twin faces of disappointment and disapproval glaring over at him, so-
"You were grilling Drift for the hundredth time on what Pearl told her, were you not?" He guessed. OH, and there was that patented glare from Shelby, no wonder Pyro died with that thing pointed at him- it wasn't Scott's fault they were predictable.
"Can you work with us here? This is serious, Scott. It's Oakhurst!" Shelby scolded.
Of course, Scott is taking this seriously; he knows, of coarse he does, but if he thinks about the potential of what's happening, he'll have to come to terms with the idea that he could be about to lose the other halves of him he already lost … the other fledglings there.
He couldn't handle it if Oakhurst swallowed up all that he had left.
But throwing them a bone can't hurt him too much, so-
"Pearl said there were massacres of farm animals from the nearby farms?" Drift looked shocked before it slipped off her face, leaving that stupidly sappy face. He couldn't stand her, really.
"Yeah, um, specifically at the beacons, stuff is happening more and more. Some of the graves were messed with, but not Avid's, and the locals have been reporting more … odd happenings. I've been digging into it and-" Drift had thrown herself into the research of this case with even more fervor than Scott usually saw her do.
The sound of Drift's voice laying out all the pieces of information she had found online and what Cleo had sent over as well allowed the long train ride to hell to pass quickly. Apparently, there was a trio of human teenagers who had created a blog dedicated to documenting all the weird occurrences as of late. It was helpful to know the human perspective, but only as long as they were smart enough not to get in the way.
Soon, all three of them were hoisting their bags off the train and started looking for their favored coven of two.
"Boo!"
“MOTHERFUCKER!” Scott hissed in surprise, jumping up like a scared cat.
This is why Scott hated Pearl, she was useful at the start for keeping Cleo and Drift, but she does this every time, and she's outlived her use-
"No! Bad Scott," Shelby laughed, hoisting him back away from where he had almost had his claws in the wolfpire's throat like a misbehaving kitten. Scott went loose-limbed and let it happen, like it did every time.
Cleo and Drift were very badly hiding their laughter; it didn't matter, Scott would get his revenge soon- no, he wouldn't- well, hair dye was cheap, and that wouldn't break his parol with Abolish, would it? Nooo, he didn't think it would-
"We're so happy to see you guys. Is everything good at the castle? How's the painting going, Pearl? Cleo said you were taking a class?" Shelby dropped her hold and linked arms with Pearl and Drift as they marched away, leaving Scott with Cleo.
"How bad is it really?" Scott asked when Pearl and her victims were out of earshot.
"Seventeen animals from local farms have 'gone missing', the beacons have all been messed with, and supernatural encounters that don't match anything in our libraries have been reported to us... It's incredibly bad, Scott."
Well, the library issue was at least solvable; he never did tell anyone about the hidden library in the crypt, so one problem down. But the other things … reeked of potential rogue vampires in ways that made Scott incredibly uncomfortable; Cleo most definitely felt it too.
"So who's Brandon?" Cleo asked with an annoying grin.