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 Posted: Sun Apr 22, 2007 12:44 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 22, 2007 12:47 pm
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The two men sat slumped upon leather stools beside each other. The one with a shaggy mop of brown hair tilted a newspaper article he had ripped out the day before. The short spiky blonde cradled a tall bottle of beer, his eyes on the grubby counter before looking to his brother, Sam. They’d been on the road for awhile now, and he could see its wear on his younger brother’s face. Still, he had never been the same since that night. Dean didn’t enjoy seeing him like this, but he wouldn’t dwell on it. Not when there’s work to do. Not when there are things to kill.
“Sammy boy. Whatcha got for us?” Dean asked, his low deep voice sounded almost like a rumble, taking a swig of his sweet drink, waiting for an answer.
“Bodies.” Sam mumbled, curling the article so that the printed text was hard to read. He paused watching the confused glare from his brother in the corner of his eye. “This report says there have been quite a few mysterious deaths in these parts.” These parts meaning respectfully South Eastern Wisconsin. Sam hadn’t enjoyed the cold weather, but Dean was all for the splendid alcohol variety. “More importantly, they were all drained of blood.”
“So, are we dealing with vampires?” Dean suggested, keeping his eyes on his brother while he brought up the rip of the cool glass to his lip and lightly dipping the liquid into his mouth. He would be definitely in for staking some bloodsuckers. His lips curled with the thought.
“Maybe.” Sam replied while he thought silently, thinking of what other creatures could be lurking in the cold streets of this city. He lowered the clipping onto the dirty dark glass counter, placing it perpendicular to the edge. “Could be a demon, could be some crazy kids doing some sort of ritual.”
Dean grumbled, his hand lifted to wipe at his face. They were both worn out from the ride and would still need to find a hotel room before they fell asleep at the bar. He was just about to drag him and his kid brother to get his rest when a scream echoed through the dingy tavern. Dean’s eyes darted to the back exit, clamping a hand on Sam’s shoulder; he opened the door to a filthy alley. A young woman was held against the dingy brick wall, her eyes wide with fright. A redheaded man pushed against her, his tan hand held tight over her mouth while her shoulders heaved with desperation. Sam’s head popped beside Dean’s and they both moved in.
Stepping fast, Dean grabbed the back of the man’s plaid jacket, whipping around before he planted a powerful fist into his jaw. The man’s eyebrows furrowed a look of disgust on his face for these men before crumpling into a heap beside the bar’s dumpster. Sam kneeled beside the male, his eyes jumping to his condition to the wooden stake that had dropped beside him.
A short sob escaped the woman’s candy-apple red lips, her hands reaching up to her sickly pale face. The peeling green nail polish upon her slender figures matched the color of her fearful eyes that laid above cheeks of faint freckles. A short sweet mop of dark maroon hair framed her solemn face. A string of plastic pearls lay around her neck over a long black t-shirt with an intricate design of a rainbow and roller skate. Her legs shook under the skinny deep blue jeans and soon she fell into the musty corner of the alley, scared stiff. Her eyes dropped to her bright yellow shoes where she sat silently.
Dean squatted next to the thin petite girl who shrunk away when he got closer. He lightly frowned, but her nature didn’t stop him from holding a conversation. “Are you okay?” He questioned, thinking this could be a lead in their case or just another common crime. ‘Let it be a lead. Let it be a lead.’ he thought.
“H-h-he tried to kill me.” Her voice was rocky, leaping up with anxiety. The girl licked her lips quickly, practically not believing it herself. Her head tilted towards where her attacker laid, her eyes waiting for him to spring back for what he had came for.
“And I think I know why.” Sam interrupted, rising from where he kneeled. His eyebrows raised in mild surprise while he held the man’s wooden stake for them to see. He half-smiled knowing they were well on to something.
Dean shuffled back, standing beside his brother. He didn’t have his vast array of weapons on hand but he had enough to make a bloodsucker wench go down. “Good work, Sam.” He patted his brother lightly on the back; Sam was always on top of things.
The girl covered her face with both her hands, quiet cries escaping her fingers. She pushed her back against the wall and eerily slid up it, her arms dropping to her sides. The girl’s mouth opened and closed in shock while she gestured to the unconscious man. This was definitely a bad day. “But he. With the,” Her arm spastically motioned to the wooden stake. “But he was gonna kill me.” She trembled, fingering her stomach where the stake would have been protruding from if it hadn’t been for the blokes.
Sam chuckled, finding the situation humorous. “Dean. Dean. You saved a vampire from a vampire hunter. Oh man.” He grinned, scratching at his chin watching his brother become angry.
“Shut up, man.” He glared menacingly at his laughing partner; he wouldn’t let him get away with that. Dean moved closer to the girl with hesitation, instinctly she slid away from him. Her shoes shuffled over still burning cigarettes and broken bottles. Dean scoffed at her pathetic attempt to save herself before pinning her arms to the wall. The girl’s tiny frame moved jerkily to the left and right, but was easily pushed back by the man. She could feel his eyes on her, his blood surging through his veins, the beat of his human heart.
Sam moved forward frowning, urging Dean to let go. “Dean. C’mon. Don’t be so harsh. She’s a nervous wreck, bro.” Dean glared over at his brother, staring at the wooden stake that he still clutched. Sam followed his stare and shook his head furiously knowing his brother’s intentions. The girl craned her neck curiously, wishing she hadn’t.
“I didn’t do anything, I swear. I didn’t hurt anyone. I just wanna go home.” She pleaded, her body wiggling under his grip. She didn’t deserve this, did she? ‘Well, he thinks so.’ she thought, grumbling. She should have just stayed home. None of this would’ve happened. She should’ve just watched that history special on Civil War hookers.
Dean eyed Sam for a moment before letting himself snap at the girl. “You are our problem, missy. Too many bodies are showing up because of your kind, you bloodsucking b***h.” He scoffed at the girl, pushing himself away, disgusted with her nature. She in reply, crossed her arms over her chest looking at the remnants of a brochure that lay on the ground. Would they let her leave? Why was she their problem? These guys must be the vigilante type, taking care of evil. Like her. The girl cleared her throat, coughing lightly before muttering, “There’s prolly even more in that great lake of ours.”
Dean shot a glare of disgust at the girl and opened his mouth to say something, but the girl blurted before he could. “I’ll tell you, kay? I say that you buds get yer info and I leave here in one piece.” Her bright red lower lip pouted out, hoping they’d accept. Sam glanced at his brother, her generosity was suspicious.
“We don’t make deals with your kind.” Sam answered, keeping a safe distance from the girl with his brother. They seemed tense, expecting her to attack but she just stood there scowling. The girl took a big breath, letting her thumb trace up her jaw line where two fingers pressed upon her temple in thought. Her head tilted to the edge of the building that made the alley’s left wall. “So, how about you-” Dean began to suggest, before the girl shot a look at him, her eyes wide. She took her right hand and motioned across her neck wildly in an effort to silence them. The brother exchanged glances, eyebrows raised at her strange behavior. The girl seeing they had kept quiet looked back up at the sky expecting something. Soon enough, a man jumped effortlessly down. His dark short brown curls shook as he landed, grinning mischievously at the girl beside him.
“David, I’m busy. Get outta here.” The girl began to shoo him away, but he didn’t budge. That smirk stayed plastered on his face, while he looked at the brothers from the corner of his clear blue eyes. He leaned back surveying her catch, subconsciously brushing at his dusty brown vest. “I can see that, “he remarked, chuckling. He moved closer to the brothers, tilting his head to his friend. “Can I have one, Mar? Share the wealth, girl. Lemme take him.” He prodded his chin toward the younger brother who had a surprised look on his face. As soon as David had said it, Dean had stepped forward pushing him back with both hands. David stumbled back, his mouth a perfect “o”. The girl rolled her eyes at her clumsy friend, sighing with frustration. He should’ve just kept to his own business.
“No. No. Forget it. I want the feisty one. Please, girl. I’ll give ya. Give ya. Give ya.” David muttered, trying to think of a possession that would be worth anything to his bud. “I’ll give ya. Just whatever you want.” He turned his head, opening his mouth to display his hungry fangs that waited for an acceptance so he could take the delicious blonde home.
The girl cocked her pretty little head, maroon bangs falling into her eyes as she contemplated his deal. She could sense the fright in Sam of losing his brother, the fury in Dean of some twerp taking a go at him. Neither changed her decision. Her arm extended as her cold slender hand gripped the back of David’s neck, pulling him closer to her. “I told you. They’re mine. Get the hell out of here. I’ll see you. Later.” She whispered hastily, her chilling breath lashing upon his ill-looking skin. She released her grasp, forcing him away from her. His head bobbled around, mocking her in his head. David turned to look at her, sticking out his fat tongue before beginning to walk away. He stopped in front of the brothers, breaking out a fake smile while he remarked. “Have fun,” He paused, then forced out with energy. “Dying.” The brothers looked at each other, wondering what they had gotten into. The curly-haired man stopped by the hunter laying cold on the alley’s floor. He cracked a smile at his friend, taking a hold of the man’s legs. He flung them over his shoulder, adjusting him with a few heaves before starting off. “Bye, boys. Bye, Mar.” David chuckled loudly, turning a corner where he vanished.
The girl’s hands crumpled into fists dangling on the sides of her body. “David!” She hollered after him, waiting for him to come back, hunter and all. “David! You come right back here!” She let a gust of air escape her lips hurriedly in anger. Blankly, she stared at the brothers who practically stood in the same place the whole time. “Where? Where were we?” She said clearly for once, biting her lip.
“Where were we? Where were we?!” Dean grunted. This girl was unbelievable. First, she acts like a complete victim. She tries to strike a deal, as if she was just a normal kid. Though she wasn’t a kid, she had to be in her early twenties. But even her age was a lie, Dean reminded himself. “Sounded like you were planning to kill us, Mar.”
“Got.” She quickly responded, her right hand stroking the collar of her soft shirt. Her hand quickly moved to her neck massaging the right side of it. She glanced up to see their equal confused looks, before she explained. “Got. Margot.”
“Right.” Sam simply replied, he didn’t know what to think of this girl. She seemed sweet at first, like any other fine girl. But now she had become unpredictable. Even if she wasn’t a danger, they couldn’t trust her. Everything about this Margot was clouded by her race.
Margot quickly wet her lips with her tongue, taking a moment to figure out a way for them to believe her. It’d be a feat. “Oh, c’mon. I wouldn’t do such a thing to you buds. You saved my life. I saved yours. “She paused, noting their silence and continued. “Okay, fine. I saved you from a violent altercation with some freak. Though, in retrospect, I guess that‘s exactly what you wanted, boys. Isn‘t it?” She smiled sweetly, her expression made chills run down Dean’s spine. Her smile felt so wrong on such an evil being.
“Why would you rat out your friend?” Sam asked puzzled, he was too exhausted from the long ride here, from this girl, from everything. Dean had to be strung out as well, though he sure as hell wouldn’t say a thing.
Margot’s hand forced her jaw around, listening to the cracks and clinks as she tried to ease it into place. She wasn’t used to so much conversation in such a little time period. She was used to the glow of her computer screen, the silence of her home. When she had settled herself, her eyes stared sadly into Sam’s responding slowly. “He’s a vampire. I don’t befriend such scum.”
“We’ve wasted enough time with this girl, college boy.” Dean remarked, his lips twisted into a scowl. They had better things than shoot talk back and forth with this ridiculous girl. They needed to catch themselves a hotel room. A comfy warm bed to himself, that’s what he needed. Made of cold beer, he thought. He shook his head lightly, now that was ridiculous. “Let’s go.”
Margot frowned, her hands clenched together beside her face. She wiggled where she stood, watching as they began to remove themselves from the alley. Her left foot stepped forward, her right index finger pointing at the duo. Her eyes were bright as if she’d just understood something for the first time. “Hey.” The girl paused, noticing she had gotten the brothers’ attention. “You want quick? I’ll be quick. Extremely quick.” Her voice picked up into a fast ramble, trying to keep the men where she wanted. “I’ll find whatever you need. I’ll take you wherever you need to go. Just say the word. “She bit her lip, mumbling quietly as her mind reeled for words that would stop them.
The brothers stopped, looking into each other’s eyes. If she was true to her word, they could kill this thing and be out of here in no time. She watched as their lips moved slightly to each other, arguing through harsh whispers.
“She could be a lot of help, Dean. We just have to keep her in her place, make sure she’s not leading us in some trap.” Sam suggested, watching the girl for a moment before nodding at his brother.
Dean heaved the shoulders of his leather jacket, moving them while he consulted what Sam had said. He didn’t like the idea of relying on someone who could drain their bodies if she wished. “Fine. But she never leaves our sight, you understand?” He points his finger at Sam who nods in agreement.
“I understand.” Margot blurted, her sense of hearing gave her insight into a world she hardly lived in. She stepped carefully as if she expected the alley’s floor to crumble under her slender body. Dean looked at her with an agitated look, a scowl twitching at his lips. Her hand extended between the men offering it for a handshake. An excuse for human touch. Dean stared at her wavering hand, disgusted by her attempt to gain their trust. He spit on the dirty cement, turning away to walk out onto the sidewalk that laced the road. It sparkled with bright cars that whizzed past in both directions. He couldn’t believe they would be working with the enemy. He could still kill her in the end, he reminded himself.
Sam shrugged a weak dopey smile on his lips while he met her hand with his own. His tan skin contrasted with her porcelain complexion, but for only a moment. He pulled his hand back sharply, a shocked face meeting her worried one.
“You’re. You’re cold.” Sam mumbled, unexaggerated how icy her fingers had been around the warm back of his hand. Her chapped red lips mouthed a sorry, but he shook his head, brown bangs falling into sweet hazel eyes. He preferred this distant apologetic girl to what merciless soul could be laying just below the surface. “Let’s go.” He walked over to his brother, turning his head to see if she was following and she was. Dean was petting his callous hand along the roof of the black shiny car. Sam leaned his arm elbow beside where his brother’s hand laid. Dean shot him a look of rage to see his brother’s grubby coat brushing against his baby. Sam laughed, raising his hands up in the chilly night air and backing a safe distance from the car until his brother was satisfied.
“Get in the car.” Sam walked over to the other side of the car, sliding into the smooth passenger seat. Dean paused for a moment, eyeing the strange girl he had met tonight. It broke his heart to do what he had to. “You too.” He gestured to the back seat with a weak finger, turning quickly to get in the driver’s seat. Margot complied, shuffling into the middle of the stiff seating so she could see the backs of both of the men’s heads. Her hands wandered around, looking for something. “Hey, don’t touch anything!” The driver yelled, turning around in his seat to watch her.
“Juss lookin’ for the seatbelt.” She muttered, her hands reaching together in her lap while she clicked the shiny squares together. Sam chuckled; finding it ironic the undead girl would worry about safety. His brother didn’t say anything, turning back to turn on the car. It roared like a giant monster while he swerved into the busy road, his stiff eyes darting into the rearview mirror every so often to see what his strange passenger was doing. He only saw her pure green eyes staring back at his own, unblinking. He didn’t like that. Nosirree.
Margot twisted in her seat, her voice fighting over the classic rock that poured out of the car’s speakers. “Where are we going, boys?” Sam turned his head to his brother, wondering the same thing. Dean kept his eyes on the road, his hands clutching the steering wheel. Tall buildings blurred into a line of stony creatures through the glassy windows.
Dean took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “We’re all gonna get a hotel room. Get some sleep. I’m not keeping you outta my sight.” A menacing glare reflected in the rearview mirror. “In the morning, we’ll get on this whole vampire thing.” His eyes bored into the road, glimpsing to try to find a dumpy motel in such a busy city.
The girl pouted her mouth, thinking of something better than to stay in some hotel. She couldn’t hide there. Her eyes jumped, while she talked in a cheery voice. “No, no. That won’t do. Save some bucks and crash at my place.” She grinned, but it faded with the growing silence.
“Let’s.” Sam replied, turning to his brother wishing to sleep in a warm bed or even a comfy couch. Anyone’s home was better than an impersonal room. His mind wandered to what the girl’s house would be like, if she would make them a meal. No, no. He was being selfish.
Dean scoffed, irritated by Sam’s agreeing. “Fine.” His lips pursed, if Sam kept up with this she could be taking care of us next. In the corner of his eyes, he could see the girl’s genuine grin. “Which way?”
* * *
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Posted: Thu May 10, 2007 5:50 pm
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Posted: Sat May 12, 2007 8:36 pm
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Posted: Wed May 16, 2007 5:21 pm
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The apartment building stood tall and lean, like the girl herself. It looked ancient, peering down at the three through rectangular tinted windows. The men hesitantly followed the girl up two flights of stairs to a dark brown door. Margot reached in her right pocket, pulling out the bulge that had been a ring of keys. There had to be about four silver keys dangling. She chose one with a green handle, inserting it into the lock and twisting it with a click. “Welcome to my humble abode.” Pushing the door open, she gestured for them to enter.
The two herded into the bright kitchen adorned with shiny like new appliances that looked as if they had never been used. A quartz counter gleamed up at them. The apartment stunk of an obsessive clean feeling,
but one thing didn’t fit in with the pristine place. Upon the counter, a tan bowl of rotting apples sat. The girl pursed her lips at it, grabbing the bowl and hurling the apples into an empty trash bin below the sink. She continued to wash out the bowl as if she didn’t have company, and placed it properly in a white wooden cabinet above the oven. She brushed off her hands, watching the men for a moment before returning to the sink to drown her hands in yellow soap and water. She scrubbed mercilessly on them, drying them on a white towel that hung on the oven’s handle. The boys exchanged glances, practically reading each other’s thoughts. Margot let out a sigh, her hands gripped tightly on her hips. She looked up at them, knowing how strange she must look. “What didja expect boys?” She paused, pointing at the spotless counter. “For me to have a half-eaten forty-year old on my counter? I left him in the closet, duh.”
Their eyes tensed at her, looking around into the depths of the apartment for more surprises. The girl laughed, her green eyes sparkling at the silliness of them. “I’m juss kiddin’. You guys need to lighten up.” She chuckled softly again, watching their shoulders relax while they followed her into the living room.
The living room led little insight into what this girl was really about. The wall that lined the large black leather couch was covered in a black and white checkerboard design. To the right of the couch was a large window covered with thick black curtains. To the left of the couch on the wall hung a red guitar that reeked of 50’s nostalgia. Opposite of the couch was a black flat tv lined with a silver border. It stood upon several rectangular boxes that would be assumed to be a vcr, dvd player, dvr. She had it all. The tv stood like a monitor upon a pale book shelf that was covered in movies, instead of novels. “Who wants the couch? I got me one of those. Those” She paused her hand stirring in a circular motion while she tried to remember what they were called. “One of those inflatable beds, too. For when I go. Camping.” The last word sounded strange in her voice, and it was obvious the term was cover-up for more shady operations.
Sam moved over to the couch, dropping his bag on it. He looked back at the girl and Dean, making his claim clear. Margot nodded, stalking down a corridor towards a door at the end of it. She gripped the ring of keys, taking one with a picture of a diamond etched into the handle. She stopped as the shorter brother addressed her.
“What are you doing?” He shouted after her, Sam’s head popping around the corner to watch the girl unlock her bedroom. She turned to stare at them like they were complete idiots, which they may as well have been. A giggle escaped her grinning lips; she could feel Dean’s annoyance in her attempt to get out of their sight. “Juss getting’ pillows and blankets. Oh. And that bed.” She disappeared behind the light brown wooden door leaving the boys alone to talk privately. Dean dropped his bag on the white carpet, snorting at the apartment’s appearance. Sam plopped onto the middle seat of the sofa. He watched his brother pace the room, noticing the mud from his boots he dragged across the floor. “Dude. She’s gonna kill you.” Dean stopped, staring at Sam with a confused glint in his hazel eyes. They traced where Sam was looking and he gasped at the brown stains that littered the carpet. “Oh s**t. She is.” He gently took off his dirty shoes, laying them delicately upon his bag so they wouldn’t put him in more trouble then he was. Sam did the same, laughing at his brother’s worried face. “She’s such a clean freak, look at this place. I feel like the walls are closing in on me, man.” Sam smirked lightly at Dean’s irritation, replying. “The place feels so open to strangers, yet she keeps her bedroom locked. Think she was serious about her closet?” Sam didn’t believe it, but he bet Dean did. His brother was so against this girl that it shocked Sam that he’d agreed to sleep in her apartment. Sam’s thoughts were broken by his brother’s vague question.
“Whaddya think?”
“’Bout what?” Sam replied. His brother could be talking about anything.
“Bout everything.” His older brother stopped, wondering what he really wanted to know Sam’s thoughts on. “Bout her.”
Hundreds of traits flooded Sam’s mind, picking out a select few. “She’s cute.” He laughed loudly at Dean who’s eyes narrowed in a don’t you dare say that way. “Chill, bro. She seems real sweet. She only wants to help us.”
Dean scoffed, his thoughts about her were the complete opposite of his brother’s. “Whatever. You could be right.” He pointed a harsh finger at Sam who had began to grow a smug grin at the comment. “But why’d she rat out her own race?”
Sam looked at him strangely as if he’d noticed something so obvious and Dean hadn’t. “Dean. If a human. Say a human was doing something real bad like this rubbish. Would you rat out on them? Especially when you didn’t give a damn about them?” Dean eyed his brother, not wanting to say what he was right. Sam continued, not waiting for an answer. “She’s a lonely girl. I bet if I hadn’t found that stake, we would never even thought she was a vampire. She acts so normal. I bet some days she forgets what she is. Hell, she put on a seatbelt, Dean.”
Dean continued to keep his silence. Sam was definitely getting to his point, and it was obviously rattling his brother. He looked back at the bedroom’s door, wondering if she could hear us like before. Still, he quietly listened while his younger brother continued.
“She lives isolated from the world. I bet she only gets calls from telemarketers. Does this place look like anyone besides us has ever stepped in?” Dean looked around on cue, the place looked untouched like it never had been lived in. Why was Sam always right?
He was building a frame of a pathetic misunderstood girl and Dean wasn’t buying it. “How could someone live like that?” He asked quietly, his eyes searching for something that would prove Sam’s theory. A picture with friends. Anything.
“Exactly, bro.” Sam paused, taking his laptop out of the dark duffel bag that laid clumsily on its side. “She’s in such need of company, she’ll do anything we say. Anything to help us and keep us.” Sam clicked away at databases flooded with articles ignoring the strange look his brother was giving him.
“Keep us?!” Dean’s voice was deep and rough, waiting while Sam took his sweet time answering. The screen reflected in his angelic eyes. “If you had no one and two seemingly nice guys waltzed into your life, would you let them slip away?” He chuckled shortly, knowing what he said sounded strange especially directed towards Dean. “For the sake of argument, let it be girls, Dean.”
His brother grunted, not wanting to answer. If he did, he imagined Sam’s ego would explode right there. Hell, he was starting to trust the little bloodsucker and it was all Sam’s fault. Dean sat beside his brother, staring at a list of results from a search on the name Margot in the local area.
“Margot Beasley.” Sam muttered, clicking on the link to show the girl they’d met in the alley alongside a list of statistics. “I didn’t think she’d have a record, but I guess she needs some kinda identity for some things. But I did find something interesting.” Sam clicked on the back button to the list of Margots. Dean watched as he clicked on a Margot Dittle revealing the same girl, but with long brown hair. “Dittle has been missing for several years, reported by her landlord.” Dean stared at Sam blankly, waiting for him to explain what the hell he was getting at.
“Every so often, certain people notice that the girl hasn’t aged at all and so she disappears, moves. Whatever she has to for any trace of her to disappear. She gets herself a new identity. Who knows how many Margots she’s been?”
“Or if her name is even that.”
* * *
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Posted: Sun Jun 10, 2007 8:25 am
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Posted: Sat Jun 16, 2007 3:47 pm
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Margot stumbled over the pink wool blanket with silk trim that dragged down the hallway. She lugged a pile of afghans and throws out of the darkened bedroom. With her shoe, she pushed out the plastic wrinkled carcass of the inflatable bed. She was going through a lot of trouble for these strangers, but it was nice having someone to go through trouble for, she told herself. Even some jerk who might stake her.
The girl stared at the mountain of cloth right outside her door, hands planted on her hips while she formed a strategy on how to move it to the living room. Two white pillows slid down its side, stopping as they hit the heavy inflator. She went down on her knees and began to push the whole thing down the hallway into the living room. It was a struggle, but it was her own fault for not asking for help. She eye the bedroom door behind her, making sure it was locked before taking the final shove into the living room. The brothers seemed to not notice her there, their eyes transfixed on the lit screen of a silver laptop that laid upon Sam’s lap. She watched them, the varied clicks of the computer was the only sound in the whole apartment besides the ticking of a wall clock in the kitchen.
Dean slid into the left seat, his arm draped over the couch’s arm. He peered over at the girl’s wiggling body. She could feel his eyes on her. His confusion. She ignored them both. He reeked of lust and alcohol. Hate and confidence. The inflator hummed loudly as the bed began to rise. “Don’t worry so much, Deano. I was totally joshin’ you.” Her voice was awkward over the noise. It stopped abruptly as she pulled the plug with a forced groan. She scrambled panickly over to the bed, securing it with a sigh. “Now, now boys. Isn’t it about your bedtime?” Her eyes wandered up to their faces before laying two blankets upon the bed. Sam yawned, his mouth widening while his brother’s frown did the same.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” Dean snorted as if falling asleep was as ridiculous as a purple dinosaur playing a keytar. His elbow jabbed into Sam’s side, receiving a confused lazy look in return. “I’m not waking up dead or drained or some vampire freak.” He paused, rudely gesturing towards Margot. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “One of us is staying up with our lil’ friend here.” Even in sarcasm, friend felt semi-sweet.
Sam looked across at Margot and then at his brother. Dean shouldn’t be so worried, but if Sam was wrong a big I told you so was needed. “You kidding?”
Dean’s steely stare met Sam’s dark solemn eyes. “Do I look like I’m kidding?” He shot back in his deep throaty voice. Sam sighed, laying his hands off the heated keyboard.
“Fine, man. You sleep. I gotta work on this anyway.”
“And you better-”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sam’s head nodded in agreement, his brown locks bobbing along. Dean slid off his jacket, laying it over his shoes and bag. He moved down to the floor eyeing Margot who sat only a couple of feet away. “And you better not try anything.” His breath smelled of beer and smoke-filled bars. Normally she would’ve grimaced at the scent, but she wished to keep her composure. She sat cross-legged, hands gripping the ends of her shoes. “I wouldn’t do such a thing.” Her voice was quiet and low, dripping with a serious tone. He waited silently for her to crack into giggles and was pleasantly surprised that this wasn’t one of her jokes. “G’night Sammy.” He mumbled, turning his head in his brother’s direction before slipping under the covers. Sam groaned at the childish nickname.
“Night bro.”
* * *
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Posted: Sat Jun 16, 2007 3:52 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2007 5:50 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2007 5:53 pm
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“Ask me.” Margot stared at Sam with flickering green eyes. Her hands were clutched tightly together. Dean’s slow breaths became the rhythm of the apartment. The hushed inhale. The rushed exhale.
“What?” Sam’s eyes moved to meet hers, but she glanced away.
“Ask me what you want to ask me. What you want to know. Ask me if you pressed a cross to my skin, would I cry in pain. Or if I’m hiding a coffin in my bedroom. Or if you staked me in the heart would I explode into dust.” Her voice was solemn, but displaced. She cleared her throat. “Ask me what you want to know.”
Sam watched her, surprised on how straightforward she was. Maybe it was because Dean wasn’t awake to hassle her all the time. She seemed small on the floor, hunched over herself. “Sounds like you asked for me.”
Her head nodded and her hair fell to cover her face. “I guess.” She muttered quietly,hesitating to answer. “A cross wouldn’t hurt. Coffins aren’t needed when you have dark curtains. And I bet a stake would surely do the job.” She kept herself professional, her voice matter of factly.
Sam’s eyes washed over the computer’s screen. “Why are you tellingme this?” His question stung her head. Usually, she’d think herself crazy to say such things. Her first priority had always been to stay out of trouble.
“I trust you, duh.” A gentle smile met his sweet eyes. Margot crawled over to the edge of the sofa, getting up to the seat beside Sam. She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes jerking towards the information listed on the screen.
Sam wasn’t sure to be grateful or flattered. She was better than anything he and his brother had to hunt yet. If they had met on different circumstances, he could imagine him and her. Sitting at a round table in a dark dreary coffee place. It would be cold and she’d be bundled up. A striped scarf folded into her black peacoat. She’d still shiver. Or maybe if she wasn’t what she was. Maybe-
“Sorry to ruin your fun, but I’m not a fan of coffee.” She listened as his breath slowed down. His chest rose and fell. “Though I do like coffee places.”
“Stop.” Sam’s eyebrows creased, ignoring the worried look of the girl. There was intuition and there was something else. This was something else. He hadn’t been able to wrap around his head how Margot was always on top of things. How she was practically on cue.
“Don’t fret, boy.” Her pleading was quiet and sweet. Her hand twitched, wishing to squeeze his knee for comfort. But she thought not to. “That was bad of me. I shouldn’t had said those things. No, no. I regret it. I apologize.”
“How did-“
“Your mind is an open book. Everyone’s is.” Her left hand moved to her mouth, her thumb slowly tracing her lips.
Sam’s faces was masked by a strong frown on his innocent face. She couldn’t say those things to him. She didn’t know him. Her eyes were low to the ground reflecting guilt and shame. He paused feeling the tension subside. He cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn’t bring anything of the sort up again. “Now you tell me. Ever heard of vampire law?” His voice was demanding like she was back to enemy. Course she’d heard of the laws. The don’t drink this, don’t kill that stuff. She remembered asking David if he lived by it. His laugh was so loud it was offensive. He asked her in return as a joke. She recalled a playful smile on her lips and a sarcastic ‘it’s a secret’ reply. “Sure, sure. I’ve met kids who follow it. They’re. They’re the kind you’re lucky to meet.”
Lucky to meet. She had to mean herself, Sam figured.
“But if you want to know if I’m one of them, then yer outta luck. Definitely can’t tell you.” Sam chuckled the thought of her feeding off a soccer mom in this very room was ridiculous. She had to be one of them. No, he couldn’t go assuming anything. He had to remember what vampires do. They kill.
“Sam, you really gonna stay up all night?” Margot loved to goof off into the wee hours of the day, but she also loved to sleep in. She found it silly that he would be up to killing monsters without any sleep.
“Got to. Who knows what a sweet girl like you could do?”
Her gaze fell on Dean who slept quietly. Things would’ve worked better if that had been Sam laying there. She still had time. “No more talk about me. What about you?”
Sam blinked he wasn’t expecting a personal conversation. Maybe she was changing the subject, avoiding something. “Well. Do I really need to tell you?” His voice was stingy, annoyance creeping out of his thin lips.
“You told me to stop that. So I guessed you would prefer the traditional way.” Her fingers moved to the endtable on her left. A click and with it a flood of light from a black modern lamp.
Sam sat still, his profile illuminated by the artificial light. His eyes bored into the wall opposite of them. “No.” He paused turning in harmony with the girl, meeting her questioning look. “You missy. You know way too much about me. More like you tell me about you.”
Her dark thing eyebrows jumped with surprise, lowering just as quick. “Fine.” It was short and simple, though she’d probably enjoy this. “Whaddya want to know?
She was compliant and that was obvious. Sam licked his lips wondering what he really wanted to know. And if she would tell the truth. “What’s your name?” He’d start simple.
“Margot Beasley.” The name on the most recent record.
“Not Margot Ditter?” He watched and relished in her amused grin.
“You’re good. Margrit Sigismund.” A side grin pierced her full lips. He’d done his research. And fast.
Sam nodded a look of accomplishment on his tan mug. Hopefully he would get more answers than a genie gives wishes. “How old are you?” It was a reasonable enough question.
“Twenty three.” She smushed her lips together, twisting them to the left and right. “But I’ve been that age for. For ‘bout a hundred and sixty years.”
Sam waited, wishing for her to chuckle and say she was kidding. To think of her through centuries. Never aging. Only the world around her would change. “How?” He blurted, one thing he knew he really wished to know. “How?” How did this girl become a bloodsucker?
Margot laughed, taking time to find words on how to start. “Well, ah hah. Hmm. Worked on the family farm, hated it, too.” Sure, she wanted to tell the kid, but her voice shook instead. “How about I show you?” Her pale hand reached towards his head.
* * *
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