The moon was calling. Sally lay in her bed, panting. Fur was sprouting over her arms, despite everything she was doing on the contrary. She reached for the phone and barely remembered Josh's number. Josh grumbled as the phone rang, rolling over in his bed. He grabbed the phone and pressed the receiver to his ear. ├óÔé¼┼ôJosh├óÔé¼┬Ø he heard Sally on the other end. She sounded like she was gargling with razors. ├óÔé¼┼ôSally?├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh asked ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you okay├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôI....need...wolfsbane├óÔé¼┬Ø She gasped. ├óÔé¼┼ôBe right back├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is it?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked, rolling off the bed. He had fallen off the bed when he head the phone. ├óÔé¼┼ôIts Josh├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said ├óÔé¼┼ôI need you to get to my place now!├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt sounds serious├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said. ├óÔé¼┼ôIts more of your area of expertise then mine├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said. ├óÔé¼┼ôShit├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve hung up. He got up and pulled on his clothes ├óÔé¼┼ôSandra, Josh is in trouble├óÔé¼┬Ø. She grunted. ├óÔé¼┼ôRight├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said, leaning over to kiss her good night. Then he grabbed some wolfsbane and ran out of the room.
Josh got into the back of Steve car. ├óÔé¼┼ôDrive to this address├óÔé¼┬Ø he said ├óÔé¼┼ôThere is a werewolf I play poker with every other night or so. She called up and sounded like she was having a hard time├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt happens├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said. Then he saw the moon. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat the hell├óÔé¼┬Ø He muttered ├óÔé¼┼ôThis moon isn't near bright enough├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôIs that bad?├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôA werewolf gets stronger with the moon. They also lose more and more control as the moon gets brighter. Every full moon they lose it if they don't get their wolfsbane. So its not strange that she didn't take her dosage. But it is strange that she needs to├óÔé¼┬Ø.
They pulled up to the place and suddenly the window to Sally's apartment exploded outwards. A wolf leaped out and landed directly on the already damaged car hood. ├óÔé¼┼ôShit├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve pulled out his pistol. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't shoot her!├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh shouted. Steve aimed and fired a bullet over Sally's furred back. Sally rolled off the hood, trying to get away from the bullets. Steve kicked his door open and ran out as Sally ran away. He fired at her legs, but missed again. ├óÔé¼┼ôSALLY!├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh shouted.
Sally looked over her shoulder, her face extended into a wolfish muzzle. Hair was sprouting over the muzzle, making her look more and more like a wolf every second. Steve aimed. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't hurt her!├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said again. ├óÔé¼┼ôI know what I'm doing├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said. He held the bag of wolfsbane and stared at the wolf. The wolf stared back, all humanity gone from its wolf. Then Steve tossed the bag into the air and fired his gun through it. Wolfsbane sprayed out of the bag and scattered to the ground. The semi-liquid splattered and the wolf immediately started to lap it up.
Then the wolf shuddered and gently swayed on her legs. ├óÔé¼┼ôCome!├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said. The wolf shook itself and pawed its way over to him. ├óÔé¼┼ôCan you take care of her?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked ├óÔé¼┼ôI need to send out the message and get as much wolfsbane out to the night officers. I don't know what is getting to the werewolves, but I need to make sure they don't hurt anyone├óÔé¼┬Ø. He got back into his car, witch somehow managed to still drive. He drove off. Josh looked down at Sally. Sally rubbed against his leg and he smiled. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'll get you to your room├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said.
He opened the door and Sally padded into the room, still wuffing softly. She jumped onto her bed and laid down, tong lolling out. Josh sat down on the bed next to her, wondering if he should go home or stay here. Werewolves across the country used wolfsbane and they didn't need someone to watch over them. But Josh stayed, not wanting to leave her. Sally pressed her back against his. Josh absentmindedly scratched her between the ears. The night wore on slowly, but Josh was used to stakeouts and long vigils. So he stayed.
The moon set, the silvery light cut off by the mountains around Hollywood. Sally stopped her near constant panting, something Josh noticed all dogs and wolves did. Then she shivered and Josh felt the fur under his hands slowly constrict. He took his hand off the wolfish head that was swiftly changing shape under his fingers. It was a very very disturbing sensation. Sally grew and reshaped and then finally curled up into a small ball. Josh stood up quickly, seeing as how she wasn't wearing any cloths. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over Sally's shoulders. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, yawning ├óÔé¼┼ôI need to get going├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Sally sat up, the blanket clinging sheerly to her front. Josh averted his eyes. ├óÔé¼┼ôThanks├óÔé¼┬Ø She mumbled ├óÔé¼┼ôSorry about keeping you up├óÔé¼┬Ø. Josh, still not looking up, nodded ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah├óÔé¼┬Ø he said ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's no problem├óÔé¼┬Ø. Then he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell you didn't need to leave immediately├óÔé¼┬Ø Sally muttered. She grabbed a shirt and pulled it on over her head, feeling a pleasurable tickle on her ears. She got up and stretched her arms. Sunlight splayed through the window. It felt nice, but would never arouse her instincts like moonlight.
Josh closed the doors to his house and sighed. It had been a long, dull night. He closed his eyes and fell face forward into his bed. Then his phone rang. ├óÔé¼┼ôHey, Josh├óÔé¼┬Ø Steven said ├óÔé¼┼ôIts Steven├óÔé¼┬Ø. Josh groaned. ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you all right?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh mumbled ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's just that I spent the whole night making sure Sally had an easy time of it├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe would have been fine├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôShe seemed docile enough├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe was docile├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's just...seemed the thing to do├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôRight├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat? What? What?├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh sat up. ├óÔé¼┼ôNothing├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôBut I just wanted to call and tell you we might have something rather serious to worry about├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôRather serious?├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh asked, closing his eyes, bracing for the inevitable bad news. ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôThere's been a growing trend of Werewolves going berserk├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôSteve├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said ├óÔé¼┼ôNot everyone is a werewolf specialist. Just give me the bare bones├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôRight├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôA vampire has to drink blood regularly. Just the same way, a Werewolf needs to bathe in moon light, in their...other form. Usually they become very violent and chaotic at this point, unable to tell friend from foe. Wolfsbane, however, allows them to retain their scenes as they bathe in the moon light├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Josh sighed ├óÔé¼┼ôThen why did Sally go nuts?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôThats the problem├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôWerewolves are acting like its the full moon, even though its only half waxed├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôThats bad, right?├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said. ├óÔé¼┼ôYes├óÔé¼┬Ø Steven said ├óÔé¼┼ôIf we don't find out what's going on, then I don't want to BE around during the next full moon├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôDamn├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said ├óÔé¼┼ôCan you deal with it on your own?├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh asked ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm not exactly any good with werewolves├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't worry├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôI know of someone to ask. When I talk to them, I'll call you back. Good by├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôWait├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh mumbled ├óÔé¼┼ôI have a quick question about werewolves├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat does it mean to scratch their ears?├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh asked, feeling fairly silly. Steve was silent for quite a while. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve sounded mildly embarrassed. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat!├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh sat up in bed, feeling very very worried. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's like trying to...well...cop a feel├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said. ├óÔé¼┼ôCop a feel?├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh asked, ears burning. He wished he got out more often. He would know what these things were. ├óÔé¼┼ôGrope├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôFeel up the...privates├óÔé¼┬Ø he was sounding more and more embarrassed every second. ├óÔé¼┼ôOh├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's nothing├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's something most Werewolves use to initiate...mating rituals├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Josh bit his knuckle, wondering if he could have been more clueless. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow why do you ask?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked ├óÔé¼┼ôI mean...you...you didn't. Did you?├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo! No. no no no no no no├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh said, as if saying no enough would make it true. ├óÔé¼┼ôI need to go├óÔé¼┬Ø Josh gasped and hung up the phone. He rolled back on his bed. How would he ever play poker with Sally again? He was left a long time to ponder the question, seeing as how he could no longer fall asleep. Josh stared at the celling as the sun crawled higher and higher.
Steve walked into the musty shop and gently batted away a small, shriveled head that hung from the celling. The room was dark, musty and filled with an ungodly number of unholy artifacts. Steve knew from experience that unholy usually was a relative term, so he ignored the leering idols and misshaped heads that were stacked on the wall. He had a harder time ignoring the cat that lay on top of a pile of books. Its eyes were different colors, and seemed mildly hypnotic. The cat was down right eerie to look at. So he didn't instead he focused on the colored man that sat in the very back of the shop.
Jerome was his name. Jerome the Metronome, mostly because of his fifteen watches he had strapped to his left hand. He would have been called Jerome the Watch, if Watch rhymed as well as Metronome. Jerome was an old werewolf, over fifty, and his graying hair was plated into an ungodly number of dreadlocks. His furred ears stuck out at differing angles, because one day, long ago, he had had one ripped off and resown. Right now he was reading a book inscribed with some different language, possibly German from the author's name. ├óÔé¼┼ôHey Jerome├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said. Jerome snapped his book closed and looked at Steve. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo your the murderer├óÔé¼┬Ø Jerome said. Steve stiffened, anger rising ├óÔé¼┼ôHey├óÔé¼┬Ø he said ├óÔé¼┼ôI-├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't believe what the rest of the werewolf community is saying. They are crying, Steven Smith! Steven Smith! Gave the Wolf a triple dose├óÔé¼┬Ø Jerome smiled at Smith ├óÔé¼┼ôI'd never believe that you could be so moronic├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve relaxed ├óÔé¼┼ôbecause I didn't do it├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood├óÔé¼┬Ø Jerome said ├óÔé¼┼ônow what can this Child of the Moon do for you this fine Thursday morn?├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôI need some information├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve said ├óÔé¼┼ôThere has been a worry increase in the...potency of werewolves...if you know what I mean├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôI do at that!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jerome said ├óÔé¼┼ôYou should have seen the mess I made of my room. But I'm old and tired and didn't manage to break the door down...quite. But I have been taking more then my normal fare of wolfsbane├óÔé¼┬Ø Jerome frowned ├óÔé¼┼ôhas anyone else had this problem?├óÔé¼┬Ø. Steve nodded ├óÔé¼┼ôTwo werewolves, and who knows how many more across the city├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Jerome's frown deepened ├óÔé¼┼ôThis could be bad├óÔé¼┬Ø he said ├óÔé¼┼ôVery very bad├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked ├óÔé¼┼ôDo you or any of you...sources know anything about these...occurrence's?├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôI think├óÔé¼┬Ø Jerome said ├óÔé¼┼ôI think I might have an answer. Wait here├óÔé¼┬Ø he stood up, dreadlocks flapping, and down a small staircase that was right next to his chair. A few minutes later and he arrived back up, clasping a large red tome. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is that?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked ├óÔé¼┼ôI've never seen it before├óÔé¼┬Ø. Jerome frowned ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's the book of Prophecy's├óÔé¼┬Ø he said ├óÔé¼┼ôAs potent as your bible, written by a werewolf sage over an ice age ago├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's not my bible├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve grumbled ├óÔé¼┼ôBut what Prophecy is in here?├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôThousands├óÔé¼┬Ø Jerome said ├óÔé¼┼ôBut the important one is as follows├óÔé¼┬Ø he opened the book to page one and spoke in a deep, guttural language. It sounded like a mix between German and howls, with other completely unknown words thrown in for good measure. It caused Steve's hackles to raise, sending a chill down his spine. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat dose that mean?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked. Jerome sighed ├óÔé¼┼ôIt means...roughly...
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Smalles shall be Split├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôChild of Day shall step on our Holy Ground├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Earth shall move and shake├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd a city will burn to the ground├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAll in a world untamed and unknown├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSuch is the mark of the birth of the Destroyer├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jerome stopped speaking. There was a silence in the occult shop, a sticky, dead silence. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat does that mean?├óÔé¼┬Ø Steve asked, feeling decidedly worried. ├óÔé¼┼ôI believe that I know of the last four lines. The Earth did move and it did shake...in the Great Quake, just a few years ago├óÔé¼┬Ø. Steve nodded, waiting for Jerome to continue. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd the city burning down...it could be the Chicago fire├óÔé¼┬Ø Jerome said ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd this all leads to the 'All in a world Untamed and unknown. We are living in the New World, for Christs sake├óÔé¼┬Ø. Steve frowned ├óÔé¼┼ôBut what about the first two lines. The smallest? What could that mean├óÔé¼┬Ø. Jerome frowned ├óÔé¼┼ôI really don't know├óÔé¼┬Ø he said ├óÔé¼┼ôI really don't├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Ginger woke up. She was feeling fresh, bright. Ready to face the day. Then, with an almost crushing realization, she remembered she would never face the day ever again. Her feeling of goodness subsided. ├óÔé¼┼ôGod├óÔé¼┬Ø She muttered ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy do I always have to forget├óÔé¼┬Ø. She breathed and sighed. She had to remember to breath first, then sigh. It was a maddeningly annoying thing, to breath. Most of the time she didn't even bother. Timothy was still in his coffin, and Ginger was pleased for once. She was tired of teaching him about modern life.
She walked into the bathroom. They had moved into the Blackhorse manor a day ago, after that horrible motel. The corpses had been dragged away, the flies cleared out and the blood whipped away. Ginger, however, could still smell the death. Her nose whiffed it in every time she breathed. Witch was just another reason to not breath. Josh and Steve had been 'busy' for the past two days. Ginger felt more like they didn't want to visit her. She immediately banished the thought, knowing her brothers still loved her. They were just...busy.
The nights without work were grating on her. She had always been a energetic person, always training, working, preparing for her first mission. Then it had gone down the tubes and she had become a...a mosquito. A parasite. She forced her mind off that track and looked back at her self in the mirror. Her face stared back, the normal, every day face she was used to. It looked paler, as if she had just had blood drawn, and her eyes were blood red, bright and flashing. She had used to have hassle eyes. Now they were red, just like every other vampire.
She never thought she would miss her eye color until it was gone. There was one thing she didn't miss. She had been coming up on her period before she had become a vampire. The normal, monthly cycle had stopped with her heart, and Ginger was immensely glad to not have to suffer through it again. Ginger's eyes fell on her nose. It had always bothered her. It had always seemed too mousy. It was still mousy. Ginger bared her teeth. The fangs did look nice, a very exotic combination, all in all. Then Ginger sighed and wondered why she was wasting her time staring into a mirror.
She remembered asking Tim about whether or not she could see herself in the mirror. He had just laughed and laughed and laughed, almost hysterically. Ginger supposed it must seem like a silly superstition to him. She wondered about garlic, about running water, about turning into bats and controlling animals, about blinking from one position to the other, to raising the dead as her servants. She wondered what awaited her as a vampire. Then another thought tugged at her mind. It was a old temptation, one that her mother had told her about when she was still going to Sunday school.
Well why not? a sneaky voice in her mind asked why not enjoy your self? It's not like you're getting into heaven the way you are. Ginger felt very cold at that thought. She drank blood, lived in the night and preyed on people. How could she get into heaven? Her fingers strayed underneath her belt line on her jeans. Ginger shivered at the touch. They always said forbidden fruit was the sweatiest. She cracked her lips, running her fingers over her fangs. She felt bad.
There was a tap on the door. ├óÔé¼┼ôGinger├óÔé¼┬Ø Timothy's voice came through muffled ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you done in there? I need to go├óÔé¼┬Ø. Ginger jerked her fingers out of her pants, feeling very guilty If she could have blushed, then she would have. ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah├óÔé¼┬Ø She said, whipping her hand on her pants ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm done├óÔé¼┬Ø. She flushed the toilet. She opened the door. Tim had gone to bed in his night gown, and he still looked funny as all hell in it. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou need to get some pajama's├óÔé¼┬Ø Ginger muttered. ├óÔé¼┼ôNonsense├óÔé¼┬Ø Tim said ├óÔé¼┼ôThis is a perfectly fine and manly night gown├óÔé¼┬Ø. Ginger bit her finger, stifling a laugh as she walked out of the bathroom.
She walked into her room and sighed. She had given into a single, small vice. It didn't matter did it. Did it? She felt torn. She would see a priest about it...but she couldn't enter church's. Then she remembered something. Joshua was a priest. Then she thought about discussing it with Josh. Then she realized she would never, ever live that down. She supposed that she would have to worry about it later. She would pray later. Then she realized she couldn't touch a crucifix. Or even get near larger ones. Ginger closed her eyes, pressing her hand over them. It looked to be a long long long night.
Then a phone rang. Ginger ran out of her room and down the hallway. She got to the phone just in time, picking up the receiver. ├óÔé¼┼ôGinger Smith├óÔé¼┬Ø she said. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey are close. Closer then you know├óÔé¼┬Ø A voice said. It was low, scratchy and sounded like a chain smoker. ├óÔé¼┼ôWho is this?├óÔé¼┬Ø Ginger asked, sounding annoyed. The phone clicked and she heard a dial tone. Ginger hung up the phone and grumbled about prank callers.
She walked down the hall and past the bathroom. She heard Tim singing a song. It sounded French. She heard a splash of bathwater. She would have to ask him about bath's. Ginger started to walk around the mansion. It really was huge. Every second she thought a zombie would leap out at her. Then she heard a gun shot, a scream and a loud bang. Ginger didn't think, she reached for a gun that wasn't there any more. Then she swore and ran to the bathroom. ├óÔé¼┼ôI need to check some things├óÔé¼┬Ø She said, cracking the door open. Tim mumbled something, but Ginger was already tearing down the hallway.
Ginger ran into the streets, jerking the door open as she did so. The gun shot had come from the left. She ran in that direction. A bloody wound was pouring blood on the streets. The owner of the wound was a old man. ├óÔé¼┼ôH...Help├óÔé¼┬Ø he gasped. Ginger looked him over. ├óÔé¼┼ôAMBULANCE!├óÔé¼┬Ø Ginger shouted. Someone across the street was already at a pay phone. ├óÔé¼┼ôMister├óÔé¼┬Ø Ginger said, looking the man in the eyes ├óÔé¼┼ôWho shot you?├óÔé¼┬Ø. The man's eyes dilated slightly as he looked into Ginger's eyes ├óÔé¼┼ôCromwell...Max Cromwell. He's been hitting on my daughter for the past week├óÔé¼┬Ø. Ginger blinked. She hadn't expected he would be able to speak so much, so clearly. Then a dribble of blood ran down the side of his mouth. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhere did Max go├óÔé¼┬Ø Ginger asked again.
The man shook his head ├óÔé¼┼ôHe ran...down the ally├óÔé¼┬Ø he said. Then he died. Ginger felt his fingers go slack in her hands. She closed her eyes and prayed for his soul. The prayer came to her hard. It was almost painful to think it. But she thought it anyway. Then she got up and ran down the alleyway. There were footsteps, as clear as if they had been outlined with white chalk. Ginger followed them, thanking god for her new night vision. It was as clear as day, and she could even detect some residual heat from where Max had touched the wall.
Then she came to the man. He was a youngish chap, wearing a bowler cap and a nice suit. He was trying to climb over a fence that blocked off the alleyway. ├óÔé¼┼ôSTOP!├óÔé¼┬Ø Ginger shouted. The man looked over his shoulder and slid down the fence. He turned around, backing into the wall, bringing up his gun. He was aiming straight for her head. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou killed a man├óÔé¼┬Ø Ginger said ├óÔé¼┼ôNow I'm going to arrest you├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôWith what?├óÔé¼┬Ø Max asked.
Then he shot her. Ginger saw the bullet coming at her, as slow as a child's punch. She jerked her head to the side and the bullet grazed her cheek. No blood flowed. Max gibbered, seeing her dodge a bullet to the brain. Then Ginger was running forward and plucked the gun out of his hands. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow├óÔé¼┬Ø Ginger said ├óÔé¼┼ôPut your hands up and put them on the wall├óÔé¼┬Ø. Max was still starring at her. ├óÔé¼┼ôHaven't you ever seen a vampire!├óÔé¼┬Ø Ginger shouted, grabbing the back of his shirt ├óÔé¼┼ôNow up against the wall!├óÔé¼┬Ø.
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The neat thing is you can actually puzzle out the prophecy if you know anything about...history and the fifty's/sixty's/seventy's. This is the not-so-distant past, and I like to screw with history.
Like what if Roosevelt didn't have to worry about polio...because he WAS A VAMPIRE!
Or what if Gobles was fired by Hitler because he was A WEREWOLF!
Except there is no Gobles and there is no Hitler, because there has been no WWII.
Yet.
