Chapter Text
Go out into the scary forest, collect wood, get out alive. Just like every other day.
She knows it isn’t the best idea to leave the safe comfort of Oakhurst alone, armed with only an axe when there are creatures of the night lurking at every corner, but she needs the material. And she is armed, just with NPC plot armour instead of silver.
The twigs crunch beneath her boots, shattering the wildlife’s call in a way that is not subtle enough around here; you don’t know what’s listening, lurking in the shadows of the countless trees, disguised in the thick darkness and Pearl needs to calm herself down before she freaks out. Eventually though, she comes across a clear-ish patch of woodland, clear enough for her to fell the oak around her without catching on the underbrush.
So she begins. She chops and chops and her bag is getting heavy, but it's nothing she's not used to, she has been doing this for a while… How long has it been since she arrived here? Only a few weeks, surely. While swinging her axe for what seems like an endless minute, she begins to think, think about the vampires specifically. She pretends those tree trunks are their necks and she severs them cleanly before glimpsing a flash of ginger hair her brain decides to conjure up meanly and shoves those rude thoughts out of her mind. Cleo is one of them after all, and they’re still her friend. They aren't monsters, and there are good vampires, no matter what Ren or Martyn say.
But she still thinks about them; how many of her friends have had this curse forced upon them? How many innocent people? Those beasts of the night crept upon them while they were unaware, seduced them with their honeyed-tongues and leeched them of their humanity. They took her people from her, and now she has none of them, though she was lost quite often when they were around, now they’re officially gone.
God she’s so alone.
The rhythmic splintering of impact on the bark on the trees from her axe echoed loudly in her distracted ears, it rang in time with her heartbeat, it felt too natural when any normal person would be terrified by the wood’s silence. Wait… silence. Where had the animals gone?
She looked up from her lumber, her evidence of destruction and looked around with a partial frown. There was something there, someone there, she heard leaves gently rustle behind her, saw dirt kick up from something in the shrubs, in the wrong direction of the wind.
“Come out vampire, you’re not as subtle as you think you are.” She called, ridiculously grateful for how steady her voice sounded.
Then, nauseatingly, Owen materialised in front of her, previously cloaked with invisibility, Pearl could practically see each cell knit back together in a mind warping pattern considering he was never pulled apart in the first place. She couldn’t comprehend it and she did not need to see that.
“My Pearl, what sharp ears you have, you clocked it like, a minute ago at least. I saw it in your eyes.” He responds unnaturally smoothly and in an envious voice that radiates calm.
“Of course I have, all the better to hunt you with.” she retorted, grappling with her mind, fishing out careful sentences. You have to be careful with these, the wrong thing said might get you in deep trouble.
But of course, he only smiles in response, setting Pearl’s nerves aflame, who knows what he was thinking. “I only came here to collect wood, I mean you no harm.” She attempts to reassure him.
“Don’t worry, see rest, I don't need a fight tonight either.” Which should settle her worries, but of course it doesn't with him still standing just a metre in front.
A tense silence follows, as she slowly grips her axe tighter and swings again at the base of the trees, trying to prove that material gathering is all she came for. However, she can still feel Owen’s gaze on her as if he was breathing down her neck, analyzing, assessing.
She nearly flinches when he speaks up again, “As one lumberjack to… another, you do have good form. Were you perhaps involved in forestry before you arrived at this dump?”
Okay, so small talk is a thing with vampires now, (no Cleo doesn’t count). It takes her a moment to size up a suitable response before deciding it couldn’t do any harm to tell him. “Uhh, no, actually I grew up in a wealthy household, so I had no need to do this, I just did what I could and helped my parents. Around the house of course.” She silently scolded herself at that obvious remark, where else would she lend a hand?
“Ah.” Owen replies, almost coldly, with that intimidating aura which demanded no funny-business. He carries on though, “What will your friends think?”
“... What?” Pearl replies, not entirely sure what he actually means. Of course he can't just say what he's thinking.
“Well, you try so hard to protest against vampire prejudice, claiming that some of us are good, spouting poetry to your town's members. But then again, you fight us, so fiercely might I add that it seems almost like it's driven by hatred. We are not sure, you see, if your wholesome look on your friends will hold up, when everyone else in town is gone.” he explains cooly, as if his words hadn't just frozen Pearl to the core.
“If you join us, we’ll welcome you with open arms, I guarantee.” An unmistakable voice drawls from the dark, Scott. Obviously there were more of them, they’re a tight-knit group and Pearl should’ve known better.
She immediately grows panicked when she recognizes the silhouette of Pyro and Shelby behind a trunk, in a darkness so thick, they would’ve been missed had she not been looking. In turn, she raises her axe, gripping the handle with white knuckles. In a blink though, she finds herself slammed up against a jagged slab of bark, a taloned hand wrapped firmly around her neck and the other clasped around her wrist holding the silver tool. She looks shocked into the unwavering, chocolate eyes of Owen and frantically grapples with the hand restricting her airway. Pearl tries to pry his clawed fingers off of her, more desperate when she can tell deep down he wants nothing more than to rip her apart bit by bit. Eventually, she drops her axe and watches it as it clatters hopelessly into the mud; he had taken her by surprise and there was no way she would win this fight.
“Not so confident now? We only offer a gift.” Scott’s voice swims to her ears from the background. It matches the secret hunger in Owen’s eyes and her mind begins to wander to their fangs, how much it would hurt because she doubts they would do it quickly.
“It should be a simple decision, really. I mean, realistically, you're leaving this place as a vampire or in a body bag. Be grateful we’re letting you have a say.” Scott follows up, chilling her to the core once again. She was so stupid, she had nothing to defend herself with, not even holy water. Her brow furrows, powered by anger and she slams a heel into Owen’s stomach, watching as he careens backwards and takes the chance to run.
She flies through the trees, branches whipping at her cheeks, all too aware at the sounds of footsteps and flurry of bats from behind her. She chances a look over her shoulder, which she realises is a wrong move when she catches Drift, Apo and Cleo. How many of them were there!? Albeit the latter didn't have the most enthusiastic looks on their faces, though they weren’t protecting her either. Pearl wonders what they could’ve been told, why they were all joining them in this hunt for her.
Suddenly, an unwanted flashback enters her mind from a conversation with Cleo. “They’re going after you. And Abolish but you worry them most. If you want… I'm not going to say protection, I can't protect anything in this form... Just, be careful, please.”
She silently apologises to them when coming back to her surroundings, the suffocating darkness from the skeletal trees, death following her, she shrieks as a bat streaks past her face, Pearl ducks under it and shields her head with her hands. Her legs ache from the sprinting, adrenalin fueling her racing heartbeat, she's lucky to be able to outrun them this much she supposes. She’s so focused on dodging the countless roots and barren tree trunks, making sure she doesn't slip in tree trunks or moss that she doesn’t realise where she is heading. She’s going in the direction of Oakhurst. Which is good actually, she thinks as more people in a fight is better than one.