undergrounds | Fight like the night (OTA)

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Fight like the night (OTA)

A Day

If anyone is up on current popular forms of social media, they’ll have noticed a certain trending topic on Instagram. Several pictures of two men beaten up and lashed to a lamppost have been making the rounds. If not for various injuries, one could almost mistake it for a frat house initiation hijink. Those knowing the signs will recognize several of their injuries as vampire bite marks. What makes the pictures quite extraordinary is that the two men are hunters. In another photo, there’s a picture of an unconscious female hunter also beaten to a pulp. While whoever took the photos is nowhere to be found in frame, he’s left several taunting messages at the bottom of each one. “Hillingdon: 0. Me: 3.” reads one. “All hail the mighty Hillingdon hunters,” reads another.

Cooper’s busy looking them over for about the fiftieth time, snickering as he does so. He’s sitting out on a park bench, taking advantage of his temporary immunity from the sun in a T-shirt and shorts. Anyone who gets close to him will notice the dilated pupils and disheveled look he has. He can’t remember the last time he slept. Not that he needs to, hyped up like he is on the fae blood. He glances down at his phone, flipping to another picture, letting out a cackle as he does so.

B Evening

The restless energy he can’t seem to shake hasn’t left him by the time the sun starts to set. There’s only one thing to do. He pulls his little BSA M20 out of the garage and takes it out for a spin. Cooper speeds recklessly all over the city, letting his energy get left far behind as the wind whips past his motorcycle. There’s nothing that soothes his mind like riding around.

Maybe you’re scrambling to make your way across the street just as he comes to a noisy, screeching halt. Maybe he spots you on the other side of the street and recklessly pulls a U-turn so that he can pull up next to where you are. Maybe he’s idling at the curb, waiting for you to come out of a shop after catching your scent. Any way you look at it, there’s a vampire sitting on top of a motorcycle who’s taken quite the interest in you.

C Night

Long after the last light has faded from the sky, Cooper knows he needs to feed. The problem is that he’s not craving human blood tonight. After accidentally tasting Will’s blood, all he can think about is fae blood. He resists the urges as long as he can. Alas, eventually, his will crumbles. He takes to the streets, stalking his prey. What he wants most of all is going to be hard to find, but in his current strung-out state, he’ll take anything and everything he can get.

Skulking down alleyways and climbing over rooftops, he’s not the perfect silent predator he usually is. People that he’s following will feel a prickle on the back of their necks, some sixth sense warning them that somebody is watching them. If they aren’t careful, he’ll strike them down and feed without pity.

D Wildcard

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Cooper uses the distraction to sneak up right behind her, silent as death itself. One hand grabs the back of her neck and the other pushes her into the nearest wall. His fangs are out and his breath is in her ear as he speaks.

"Hullo, sweet-pea." The words, usually so friendly, have a much darker tone. His self-control is gone.

His hand is cold on the back of her neck and she gasps right before being shoved against the wall. The ball of light drops to the ground and disappears, leaving her once more alone in the dark with-

"Cooper." She breathes, trying not to move from where he's got her. This was always a worry, on the streets. Men and vampires alike taking advantage of a young woman on her own. She knows Cooper. She knows this isn't him. At least... She wants to think it isn't. But he's a vampire.

But they're friends. Good friends.

An idea occurs to her. "Usually when people want to play it like this, they give me a heads-up." A joke of sorts, to get him to ease up on how he's got her. "It'll be more, too." She tries to keep the shrill note of panic out of her voice, ignoring how if she can feel her heart speeding up, Cooper can certainly hear it.

Staying calm is what possibly saves Nancy's life. If she had started screaming or struggling, the way his other victims usually did, it just would have hyped up his blood-lust. Cooper blinks and pauses, an old memory trying to worm its way to the surface. The town of Pemkowet, four years ago. Losing control. Feeding off of a man and his teenage daughter until they were almost beyond help. The guilt and shame that had come afterwards, causing him to leave, to run, all the way back here to London.

Shaking his head back and forth like a dog with a flea in its ear, he tries to rid himself of the thoughts. Her heart keeps pounding away in his ears, the promise of blood rising with each beat. His hands loosen their grip, but he doesn't step away. "I'm not doin' so good tonight." That's the understatement of the decade.

Alright. Good. Progress. She doesn't allow herself to relax, but tries to keep her breathing even, to try to stead her heartbeat.

The deepness, the hunger in his voice chilled her to the bone, despite the summer's heat. He doesn't step away, and she doesn't move. His words sound familiar, too. Someone that took too much blackcake. She could work with that. "It happens," she said softly. "Do you want to tell me what happened, Cooper?" Nice and easy. Hopefully he wouldn't grow bored. Or worse: hungry.

"There was a hunter. I thought he was just a normal human." There's a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh. His lips are right up against the back of her neck now. He'd been stupid, so stupid to feed off of him without thinking things through. "He wasn't. He was a fae."

She'll know exactly what that means. Try it just once and the vampire in question could become obsessed with it, even to the point of addiction. He's barely keeping it together as it is. His mind's a coiled wire that's threatening to snap under the slightest pressure.

No. No, no, no, she knows exactly what that means. She'd never seen a fae blood addiction happen before, but she'd heard it. Now here it was, pressing her against the wall still, his lips brushing against her neck with every word he says.

She had to tread even more carefully now.

There were options. Let him feed off of her, to try to drown it out, but he'd drain her dry. Drink a bottle of vampire toxin and let him feed off of her so that he simply stopped. Or even open a vein herself so he could drink on her terms. But gods knew he was faster and stronger than she was. The only real option was two, but even then he'd be so furious when he came to, he'd probably snap her neck. Even if she took care of him.

...Right...?

"How long ago?"

He closes his eyes, trying to think. It's hard to get past the haze in his brain to the part still capable of rational thought. "I dunno. What day of the week is it?" It has been multiple nights of this slow spiral out of control. Maybe a few days, maybe a week. He can't remember, the last clear memories in his head being of dropping the newborn vampire off at an Islington safehouse.

"I just need a taste. Somethin' to steady myself. I'll pay later," he tells her, trying more to convince himself than Nancy that this situation is still within his control. He won't drain her dry. The delusion has wrapped itself in his brain and won't let go. All he needs to do is lean forward, take a bite, and this struggle will be at an end.

"Tuesday," she says softly, hardly moving. She doesn't want to hear the answer, already afraid of the answer. But at the same time, her plan starts becoming more and more concrete in her mind.

'Just a taste' wasn't something she was going to give him here. Ideally. She knows that any bite she gives him, he'll take all she has to offer. So giving him a toxin was going to be the best option, unfortunately. But he wouldn't just let her drink it...

Luckily, she was smart.

"I need to drink a blood replenisher, first. It's in my purse. I'm going to reach into my purse and get it and drink it, alright?" Slowly, she began to reach her hand into her bag, searching for the small bottle. "Then you can have some." She could only, only hope this worked as her hand closed around the potion in an unlabeled green bottle. And if he let her, she was going to drink it.

Tuesday. Wow. Had he really spiraled so far out of control in such a short amount of time? It gave him pause for thought. It wasn't enough to make him consider letting go of Nancy, but her reasoning of needing a blood replenisher seem like a sound suggestion to him.

He nods before remembering she's facing the wall. "Okay." He loosens his grip on her neck, allowing her to reach into her bag and pull the bottle out. He's none the wiser to her true actions. She'd better do this quickly. His impatience won't make him let up for more than a few moments.

Taking a deep breath when her neck is let go of, she quietly reaches into her bag, slowly, but with careful, precise movements. It takes her a second to find the toxin, and she's already got the top off by the time she's brought it to her ruby lips and is drinking it all down in one gulp.

Vile, but you did what you had to do.

Trembling, she turns in his hand so that her back is against the wall. Then, so they're clear: "20 pounds." And she's raising her chin, tilting her head so he's got access to her jugular. Hopefully this works. If not...

If not, Kenzi could have her things.

Cooper chomps down onto her neck without any further ado. He's so focused on draining her blood that he doesn't even taste the toxin at first. Then it hits him with full force. He's been doused with vampire toxin before, though it's been a few decades since he last had it in his system.

He pulls away from Nancy and staggers back a few steps, a little bit of blood running down the corner of his mouth. There's a look of confusion and anger on his face. He looks around him as if realizing where he is for the first time. "Nancy? What did I...what did you do?" Then he sinks down to the floor of the alley.

She winces as he bites her, letting out a small shriek as he latched on harder than he ever had before, sucking more, and faster. Her eyes closed slightly as she placed her hands on his arm. This had to work, this had to work.

And then she was free. She stumbled forward, her hand up over her neck. feeling the blood trickle down her neck where he'd gotten her. "Cooper- I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Wincing, she closed the wounds with just an other touch of her hand. Now she could focus on Cooper.

She ran over towards him, dropping to her knees on the alley floor, tearing her fishnets in the process. Without thinking, she pulled him over on to her lap and she reached down to hold his hand. "I'm sorry!" A tear ran off her chin, as she brought her other hand to push his hair back from his face. "I'm so bloody sorry."

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Fight like the night (OTA)

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