Work Text:
Avid was bored. So, so bored. That was what happened when you slept for 200 years, he supposed. But despite his current status of: trapped in a pit, he was mainly concerned about his hunger. He assumed, after being staked, that the vampire in him was dead. Now, the festering wound on his neck had returned with vengeance, and he was a werewolf. Looking around, he saw a bat flapping through the air by his head. The poor thing had probably wandered into his grave through the rotted hole in the ceiling- Owen’s fault, he supposed, for stopping that hole with wood instead of cobblestone. Watching the bat, he was reminded of his hunger. Springing into the air, Avid grabbed the poor creature and devoured it whole, merciless. He faintly remembered a time where he had been a bat once, but that thought was squashed down beneath his animalistic tendencies.
~~~~
Walking into his and Shelby’s apartment, Scott noticed two things. The first, was that what looked to be both his and Shelby’s wardrobe was dumped on their couch. The second was that Shelby herself was nowhere to be seen. He wandered into her bedroom, and immediately spotted her. She was slumped on her bed, with at least five skirts piled next to her. Scott was immediately concerned.
“Why,” he asked, “would you ever rumple your clothes in that manner?”
“I’m cursed again,” she sighed, “I’m sure of it.”
Sometimes, Scott had to wonder if the melodrama had transferred from his fangs to Pyro’s to hers. It would explain at least half of her exaggerations.
Now it was his turn to sigh. “Is this another massacre of Oakhearst, or are you not sure what clothes to wear?”
“This is an emergency!” She exclaimed, twisting around to fic him with an accusatory glare. He stared back, unimpressed.
“It’s dinner with Drift, who you’ve known for 200 years, and Avid’s grave. He doesn’t care if you repeat an outfit, he’s dead.”
Shelby gasped, and then hissed at him. Scot hissed back, unimpressed. “I don’t care. Wear the denim skirt you got two days ago. You have sweaters, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whined, “but I’ll overheat in the restaurant if I wear one…”
“You’re dead. You have no body heat,” Scott cut back. He promptly left her room.
On the street, he and Shelby ventured out to meet Drift. Shelby had worn her new denim skirt, with a plain black tank top to keep her non-functioning body from overheating. The skirt was very cute, black denim with layered asymmetrical pleats, and a heavy amount of spikes. Scott was in no way biased because he was the one who had seen it in the store. He hadn’t needed to change, because he walked out of the apartment every morning absolutely fabulous. Muttering a curse, he brushed past someone on the sidewalk. It was so inconsiderate of people to just stand still, he mused. If Scott weren’t bound by a promise, he would have this whole city in the palm of his hand. But alas, he was under close guard by Shelby and Drift. Spotting Drift, he dragged Shelby over to her.
“Scott! Shelby!” Drift shouted, walking over to them. “You two ready for dinner?”
Scott grumbled a retort about using proper grammar while speaking, and then the three headed into the hospital.
~~~~
It is surprisingly easy to steal blood, especially when you’ve practiced the heist at least 20 times and performed it every year for at least 10 years. If you add on the fact that you’re with two other people, and all three of you have the ability to go invisible? Any theft is a walk in the park. It probably isn’t moral to steal lifesaving blood from a hospital, but they only do it on days they visit Avid. Also, option two for getting blood that tastes good is murder. Once dinner is over, Scott, Shelby and Drift head out into the night.
“You ready?” Shelby asked Scott and Drift. They nodded, and started batting to Oakhearst, where the graves awaited. When they got to the cursed town, the three swerved over to them hillside of Avid’s grave. Visiting the grave was a silent affair. All three of the friends had decided long ago that interrupting each other’s mourning with apologies Avid couldn’t hear was rude and unnecessary.
Today, Scott broke the silence. “Can we check the beacon sites? I want to see them.”
“Why?” Drift asked, brows scrunching together in confusion.
“It’s been two hundred years since the last massacre, and I’d like to check and make sure no idiot has trapped a new batch of people in here.”
Checking the beacons proved difficult, considering they couldn’t remember where some of them were. Town and Castle were easy, and off. So were Ruined Tower, Obelisk, and Lake.
“We’re forgetting one,” Shelby said, “and I don’t remember which.”
“Way to state the obvious,” Scott drawled.
“Crypt! We forgot the Crypt Beacon!” Drift gasped.
Barton over to the crypt beacon, they encountered some crumbling stairs. And a flat platform of blocks, seemingly stoppering a hole.
“Is that…” Scott trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Just then, an animalistic snarl sounded below them, as if it could sense fresh blood.
“We should check that, right?” Drift asked, concern flashing through her features. It seemed like the obvious thing to do. Breaking the top layer of cobble only revealed a short drop to another layer below them. There was a hole in the corner, with rotting wood bordering it. Scott approached, and widened it. His attempts were cut off, however, by another snarl just below him. Creeping to the edge of the hole, the three peered down into the dark, and saw…
“Avid?”