Chapter Text
Much like the myths Shelby had latched onto as a child and studied incessantly all the way into adulthood, vampires were, in fact, not easy to find.
The environment of Oakhurst was only an assist to that uncanny ability— providing plenty of cover and darkness for the stealthy, undead creatures to slip away. Not to mention the fact that vampires of a high enough level could quite literally sink into an invisible form or make a teleporting escape to any of the numerous beacons the darkness still possessed.
They really were built to be the apex predators of wherever they resided— whether it be the depths of an ancient forest, or the streets of a bustling city. And in this case, being that the former was more accurate, Shelby had an exceptionally hard time finding who they were looking for.
The worst part of the situation wasn’t that she couldn’t find him— it was that she usually didn’t have to. Every vampire had a different level of stealthiness they exhibited on a general basis (when not actively trying to hide for one reason or another). Avid, for example, was particularly easy to find.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was her fledgling and she had something of a sense for where he was. But he was also just loud. Always boisterous and exuberant, even if it was in his worst interest to be so. It wasn’t really something he could turn off, it seemed like. Not that they were one to judge on the matter of lacking stealthiness.
Owen was just about the other end of the spectrum. While he liked to quip and sneer at just about anyone who interacted with him, he was generally more reserved with his thoughts. Not only that, he didn’t have much of a presence to him unless he actually wanted to be seen. And even then he was still missed from time to time, much to his obvious chagrin.
The rest of the vampires laid somewhere in between. That is, all except for one.
Scott Goldsmith.
He proved that he could, of course, reach a level of stealthiness that managed to hide him from both friend and foe— making his invisibility one the most dangerous abilities in his arsenal. But overall, Scott could and wanted to be seen.
He didn’t quite care who detested his presence and who reveled in it— wherever he stood is where he was. And he made sure everyone nearby knew he was present. He quite liked attention, regardless of what form it took.
Shebly didn’t think they could personally stomach being hated wherever they went, but that was beyond the point.
The point was: Scott Goldsmith had to be the easiest person to find. And more often than not, he found her.
But today?
Oh, today, Shelby had been wandering around Oakhurst for half the day, scouring the deep woods, checking every beacon, peeking into treasure crypts, and even going as far as to sneak into town on their final straw of patience. Still, there was no Scott to be found.
Shelby did manage to stumble across some other vampires along the way. But most were either busy (Pyro, whatever he was doing), far too excited to drag them away from their task (Avid and Drift), or simply choosing to pretend Shelby didn’t exist (Apo). The only thing every encounter had in common was one thing: No one knew where Scott was.
Finally, at their wits end, Shelby dragged themselves back to the castle as the moon disappeared under the horizon.
* * *
“Well you look like shit.” Owen so helpfully piped up from his perch on the edge of the grand table.
“Gee thanks.” Shelby replied dryly, tugging out a chair and plopping down next to him.
The older vampire did a once over of her figure, raising an eyebrow.
“Just what were you up to?”
Shelby didn’t dignify that with a response, instead choosing to slump further into their chair with a groan of frustration.
“Okay, don’t tell me then.” Owen slid off the table and back onto his feet, brushing himself off. “Not like I particularly care what you do in your free time.”
While most would use those words as an underhanded way to get the answers that they wanted, Owen genuinely didn’t seem to care. He started walking towards the main door without a pause or single glance behind him. It would be a little disheartening if it wasn’t just how he was. Personable was never a term that would describe that man.
Shelby couldn’t, however, let him make a clean escape without asking at least one thing— even if the effort seemed to be in vain by that point.
The younger vampire pushed herself back into a proper seated position, calling out,
“Hey, Owen?”
Owen paused with his hand on the door. He turned partly to face her, but his expression was just as apathetic as it was before.
“Listen, you missed your chance to give me your sob story for the day, so whatever you have to say–”
“Do you know where Scott is?”
The older vampire’s grouchy resolve slowly drained away until confusion (and mild judgement) overtook his features.
“Scott?” He parroted. “Are you trying to avoid him or something?”
“Find him, actually.” Shelby corrected.
“Why on earth would you want to do that?”
“Doesn’t matter! Just— have you seen him?”
Owen’s eyes narrowed, his lips pursing as he let out a thoughtful hum.
“Um… briefly, I think. Just after the sun set.” His eyes turned towards the courtyard exit. “He was headed to the crypt. Doubt he’s still down there, that’s just the last I’ve seen of him.”
Shelby gasped, shooting to her feet.
“Really?!”
“Finding that man really shouldn’t garner that much excitement.” Owen muttered mainly to himself, but it was easy to pick up with the echo chamber of the room and a bit of enhanced hearing.
Shelby chose to disregard that comment, continuing,
“He was in the crypt? He told you he was going there??”
“He passed me on the way up.” Owen replied. “And like I said, I don’t think he’ll still be dow—”
“Thanks Owen!”
And Shelby skipped out of the room without letting the grumpy vampire get another word in.
Owen stared blankly at the courtyard entrance for a moment before he heaved out a sigh, pinching the brim of his nose.
“I swear to god, I’m going to be the first vampire ever to get a headache…”
* * *
Of all the places encapsulated by the castle, the crypt was always the most fascinating. Not only was it the only part of the castle that Shelby and the others didn’t need to rebuild, but was also the home of many treasures and secrets hidden away from a lifetime ago— one of them being Scott.
The elder vampire briefly mentioned waking up in the crypt when everything had just begun, and at a single glance around it wasn’t hard to figure out where. That room was actually one of the few places in the stone-y prison that the vampires didn’t mess with (aside from the secret exit, but what were two blocks?). The other was a room hidden off to the opposing end of the crypt– one that, somehow, held even more mysterious grandeur.
Scott’s room.
Well, not Scott’s room exactly. He had one up in the castle back when he was a human, just like any living person should. But apparently, when he was originally turned and forced to take some time in the dark to adjust, he found a part of the underground crypt and claimed it for himself— covering it up enough that nobody stumbled in by accident.
Since then, the place had been furnished with a large bed (with far too many blankets, so Owen insisted), a bedside table, a few chairs, a bookshelf, and an oak chest that was sealed shut by years of rot. And despite knowing all of this about the place, it actually hadn’t been seen by anyone except for Owen, who found it by accident when digging around in the crypt.
Apparently Scott tried to kill him right then and there— skin him alive and hang him from the rafters. Shelby believed that part of the story was a bit over-exaggerated, but Owen had emerged from the crypt looking rather pale and horrified. It took a couple of hours for him to recover, but then the spite rolled back around and he told everyone exactly what he had seen despite Scott having obviously instructed him to do otherwise.
Since then, no one really talked about that room. No one went looking for it, either— even with all of the curiosity surrounding it. Everyone had their own reasons; Owen’s obvious aversion of repeating whatever he endured last time, Pyro’s utmost respect and silent fear of his sire, and Shelby just had basic human decency (despite being a vampire). If Scott didn’t want them going through his room, why would they? Seemed kinda rude.
The others had at least heard of the room, but they were mostly uninformed and uninterested. (Except for Avid, who Owen chose to scare the living daylights out of with a more extreme version of his story, traumatizing the hunter enough that he tried to stay in the crypt for as little time as possible. Poor thing.)
So, entertainment value aside, why was this room so important?
Because no one went in there.
Nobody.
Zip.
Nada.
Owen, once.
But no one else!
…No one except for Scott.
It was his room, after all.
And how else could a man like him vanish off the face of Oakhurst?
Okay, maybe death. But Scott wasn’t dead— he was Scott! …Shelby was 97% sure he wasn’t dead. (The 3% was on the off chance Abolish flipped his lid. Which he didn’t really do, aside from maybe burning down a forest. But even then he was scary calm!)
…Ahem. Anyways! If there was one place for Scott to be, it was his room!
A stupidly obvious solution, actually. That’s the first place you’d look for someone in any normal circumstance. But no one really knew what Scott was up to on a regular basis unless he outwardly announced it.
Could he go down there a lot? Maybe. But this was most likely a rare scenario, given how the blue-haired elder seemed to be everywhere except the castle most of the time.
Something had to be going on.
And suddenly the gossip Shelby had wanted to talk with him about didn’t seem so important anymore.
Despite her worries, Shelby didn’t actually beeline for Scott’s room at first. They made sure to check every other place in the crypt first, just in case they got a couple details wrong. If they ended up sneaking in there without it being strictly necessary, Scott would be mad. Maybe not as mad as Owen described, but he certainly wouldn’t be happy.
So far Shelby had managed to avoid the end of Scott’s fuse. She shuddered to think of what it looked like when he got upset. It certainly wouldn't be pretty, even if he was.
That left a tough decision to make as the young vampire stared at the faux stone wall.
The rest of the crypt was empty, echoing only at the sound of Shelby’s own footsteps as she looked. That made the room look like a pretty good option— the only option really, unless Scott was somehow hiding in a place she hadn’t looked yet (was always a small possibility.) But it was equally hard to tell whether someone was actually inside or not.
Unless they were making enough noise, hearing through stone was difficult enough— but Scott? He was an elderly vampire who had no more use for his vital organs. His heartbeat was silent, his lungs stilled. There was no good indication he was there unless he made himself known, which was one of the biggest issues Shelby had been dealing with during this wild goose chase.
Was it worth breaking the stone to see?
Shelby couldn’t disregard the consequences, but it was equally as hard to leave their intuition behind. Scott was down here, they knew it. But did they?
Drift had taught Shelby a thing or two about detective work. The young vampire just prayed it was enough to make this decision less stupid as they pulled a pickaxe out of their inventory and began to mine.
The stones popped out of place rather quickly, a soft, orange light seeping out into the darkness of the crypt. Along with it was something that Shelby found more surprising— a rush of warm air.
It really shouldn’t have been all that strange given that the room likely had no ventilation, but there was something about the warmth that just… enveloped her senses. Walking in suddenly felt like the easiest task in the world, letting the comfort of the quaint room surrounded her like a gentle hug.
Shelby had to snap themselves out of it enough to actually take a look around. The place was pretty much as Owen had described it in terms of furnishing, but it was… well, lived in. Not the kind of cold place (figuratively and literally) Shelby had expected it to be.
A small lantern sat on the bedside table, emanating just enough light to reach every corner of the room– skimming the bookshelves lined against the left hand wall, revealing the detailed notches in the wooden chairs, and bathing a resting figure in a glow that made him practically ethereal.
…Or, he would have been if he didn’t look downright miserable.
There he was in all of his glory— Scott Goldsmith, splayed out towards the right side of the bed with an arm slung over his face. His mouth was pinched into a frown of discomfort, and his beautiful blue hair was actually messy for once. Shelby had to hold back an audible gasp at the sight.
The bed he was laying on was fairly tall and (as Owen said) absurdly wide— one of the fancy ones noblemen liked to have for no other reason than to look fancy (at least, that’s what her father told her). Aside from that, the only notable thing was another point to the grumpy vampire— so, so many blankets. And somehow, Scott was using none of them.
No wonder he was uncomfortable. The blankets looked so warm and inviting— Shelby wanted to hop in and bury herself inside for the rest of her eternal life. Not a bad way to spend it, she decided.
Again, the young vampire had to shake themselves out of some kind of… stupor, turning their attention back to the actual reason they came in here.
“Scott?” Shelby asked, carefully approaching the bed.
“What do you need, Shelby?”
Scott replied so fast and so firmly that Shelby actually jumped back a little. He didn’t seem nearly as out of it as she assumed.
“U-Uh, hi!” The young vampire tried again. “I haven’t seen you at all today— I was starting to get worried.”
“Mh…” Scott slowly lowered his arm, tilting his head a little to the side in order to meet Shelby’s gaze. His eyes were squinted, as if looking at her (or anything, really) was physically causing him pain. “As you can see, I’m very much alive.”
Shelby pursed their lips, folding their hands tightly. “Mmhm…”
“Why so doubtful, hm? You don’t trust my word?”
“I-I do, of course,” Shelby closed the distance, bracing her hands against the bed. “You just don’t look too hot right now.”
The elder vampire’s nose wrinkled in indignation.
“Correction, I always look hot, even when in pain.”
Shelby’s eyes widened.
“Are you in pain? Is that what’s happening right now??” She asked frantically.
“Not exactly. My instincts are trying to kill me, is all— I’ll get over it.”
The elder vampire waved off the issue as if those weren’t the most single horrifying words to leave his mouth in this situation.
“Is that, like, normal?” Shelby asked. “Is that gonna happen to me too?”
“Doubtful, given that I am going to find a way to vampirically castrate all of you once I can properly move again.”
“Castrate?!” The young vampire yelped. “What does that even mean in this context???”
The elder vampire’s eyes opened a tad more, blood red studying the fledgling as if the answer was somehow etched into the shape of their face. Or, looking back, maybe he was just trying to find the right words. Either way, Scott heaved out a heavy sigh, turning his head to look back at the ceiling.
“You’re multiplying.”
Shelby blinked.
“You mean the vampires?” They said, “I thought that was supposed to be a good thing.”
“It is in the right time frame.” Scott emphasized, weakly motioning the room around him. “But this is just chaos.”
Shelby didn’t quite understand what that meant. Assuming ‘this’ meant the state of things as a whole, what was so wrong with it? Yes, the vampires were fighting the humans, and yes they were a little disorganized for a coven. But that was normal for vampires, wasn’t it?
“Owen is literally the only other vampire here who is fully fledged, and I would even say that is a stretch.” The elder continued. “The rest of you are just babies! Babies who are running around by themselves and trying to kill everything, including each other. It’s just— ugh.”
“Hey! I’m not a baby!” Shelby shot back.
Scott’s head snapped back over in her direction, causing him a small wince. Still, he didn’t falter as he said,
“You most certainly are.” The elder’s voice was firm and chiding. “You were turned what, a couple weeks ago? It takes at least half a year for a fledgling to come into their own— three years would be preferable for their development!”
“Okay, okay,” The younger vampire held their hands up in surrender. “So we’re not, like, on your level. But why’s that an issue?”
Shelby expected another snippy response-- some kind of fight that Scott seemed in the mood to pick.
What she did not expect was the elder vampire to let out a groan of defeat and wither further into the mattress below him.
“The babies have babies,” He said lowly, voice completely exasperated. “And I have a migraine.”
Ah. That explained the look of him.
Shelby leaned over the elder a little, scanning Scott with worry. “Can vampires actually get migraines?”
“If their fledglings act stupidly enough, yes.” He replied dryly.
“Okay, that was just unnecessarily mean.”
“If you could feel what I feel, you would disagree.”
“Then explain it!” Shelby let out a huff, plopping down on the edge of the bed. “What does us being ‘babies’ have to do with… well, this?”
They made a vague motion to Scott’s figure as a whole.
The elder vampire’s expression pinched in what looked to be irritation, but it could’ve easily been his headache— at this point, Shelby wasn’t sure anymore. He then shut his eyes, letting out a harsh sigh. Scott planted his hands against the bed and pushed himself into a more seated position.
Shelby scrambled to prop some pillows up behind him to make it easier, for which Scott seemed grateful. He sunk back into the push wall with a much easier sigh— more like a release of breath he had been holding.
“If you insist, I will indulge you.” Scott said. “But you need to listen. I won’t repeat myself a second time.”
Shelby nodded fervently.
“I’m all ears!”
Scott gave her a small nod in return.
“Alright. Let’s start at the basics, then;” He began. “You see, when a vampire turns another, they become what you know as a ‘sire’. But this isn’t just a title— it is a responsibility. And with it are instincts that drive you to protect and guide your fledglings.”
With the word ‘fledglings’, the eder vampire made a motion to Shelby.
“And it’s not that you’re incapable of defending yourselves or hunting on your own, it’s more of a safety precaution for newly turned vampires.” He continued. “That instinct is very difficult to override, which stops vampires from senselessly turning just anyone and abandoning them. They will be attached to their fledgeling whether they want to be or not, so it deters mishaps that could threaten our species as a whole.”
As he spoke, Shelby made sure to nod along so that Scott knew she was listening. And they were listening, of course. It just didn’t quite make sense what the elder was saying— at least, in terms of the issue at hand. So when he stopped, the young vampire let out a thoughtful hum.
“Why haven’t I felt anything like that before?” They asked. “I turned Avid— that makes me his sire, right?”
Shelby either asked the right or wrong question, as Scott’s tone shifted from purely informational to something more... dissatisfied.
“Therein lies the problem.” The elder vampire said. “You are technically his sire, yes, but you yourself are still a fledgling. And that means that you have your fledgling instincts, not sire ones. So even when you turn someone there is no… bond, let’s call it.”
Scott shook his head at the thought of it, despite the pain the movement must’ve caused.
“That’s another reason sires are supposed to keep their fledglings under watch– if they turn someone, things get complicated.”
“The babies have babies…” Shelby recalled, finally starting to understand.
“And there’s no one to properly look after them.” Scott finished. “Or, rather, there’s no one who truly can. Not in the way they’re supposed to.”
Looking back at how things had progressed, Shelby wouldn't have guessed that there was supposed to be any kind of system for vampires. People were getting turned left and right, their self-proclaimed family unit was all over the place at the best of times, and overall nothing really seemed organised. Even most plans were made either on a whim, or vaguely enough that the execution could change in a matter of moments.
It wasn’t that Shelby minded the chaos— she really didn’t. It was kinda fun most of the time. But what she didn’t seem to register is that maybe that chaos wasn’t right, and maybe there were some people who didn’t find it fun at all.
“Is that why you’re so stressed out?” They asked. “You’re trying to be everyone’s sire?”
Again, Scott sighed. “Something like that.”
He sunk further back into the pillows, lips pursed as his eyes trailed elsewhere in the room.
“...It is my understanding that if a sire’s fledgling turns another, the responsibility defaults to the sire to raise the new fledglings. And I have tried my best, certainly… But the only fledglings I can actively feel are Pyro, Drift, and Apo.” He said, bitterly. “Everyone else is like a blank space in the bond— I have no clue whether any of you are even alive at any given moment. And my instincts have decided to remind me of that rather harshly, as you can see.”
Shelby was no expert in the matter, but she knew that things like depression or anxiety could physically cripple a person, even if they were physically fine. And taking one look at Scott, it was easy to see— he was, quite literally, sick with worry… even if he didn’t want to be.
“Oh, Scott… I’m so sorry.” The younger vampire reached out and placed their hand on top of his, drawing Scott’s attention back to them. “I didn’t realize that you felt–...”
Shelby’s voice trailed off as they noticed the elder’s pupils getting slightly bigger. Not seconds later, a faint rumble filled the air— a noise that reminded her of a pet she used to have as a child.
“...Are you purring?”
Scott didn’t even blink. “Would you prefer I answer that question or to keep your life?”
Shelby recoiled her hand, letting out a nervous laugh.
“Never mind.” They said, but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto their face. “You just… seem a little happier than when I walked in. Does me being here help? Because you know I’m safe?”
The elder huffed, crossing his arms.
“How am I supposed to know? It wasn’t like my sire explained much of this.” He shot back before pausing briefly. “...He didn’t have six fledglings, either. So maybe he wouldn’t have known.”
There was an odd sense of nostalgia in the way Scott spoke of his sire. From what little he said about the man, it was hard to pin down just what their relationship looked like. But it really wasn’t any of Shelby’s business.
They needed to focus on their sire— or, well, the sire of their sire. You know what? Too complicated. Shelby needed to focus on her friend, and helping him through whatever it was he was dealing with, even if he would never ask for help.
The younger vampire wasn’t entirely sure how to help, but they had a hunch. And that was a good enough place to start.
“...I guess you’re right about that. Not like any of us have a clue, either.” Shelby smiled brightly. “Sorry for bugging you so much. I think I’ll let you rest for now. Can I come back later?”
The younger vampire was happy to see there was no hesitation in Scott’s response, “Of course.” But it was rather deflated from his normal tone. This really must’ve been wearing him out.
“Just instinct the others to leave me be,” The elder continued. “Hopefully I’ll have the wind back in my sails by nightfall.”
Sooner than that, if Shelby had anything to say about it.
But that required a little bit of work on her end— work she needed to do outside of Scott’s room. So Shelby simply nodded, reaching over to give Scott’s hand one last squeeze before hopping back onto her feet.
“I’m sure you will.”
Shelby didn’t miss the subtle reach for her hand as she pulled it away, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she started towards the door (or, the hole in the wall, really), glancing over her shoulder with a small wave.
“I’ll see you later!”