The vampires angel

AfterMath

Maria's Point of View

I had just found my best friend's body, lying against the dirty damp bricks just outside the night club in the dimly lit alleyway. I dialed 911 and was waiting for officers. I prayed and hoped she was just unconscious, but something told me she was gone. I paced back and forth until I heard the sirens approaching. I had seen the man she was dancing with earlier leaving, heading in the direction of the forest, a place no locals ever go and warned us about. Apparently, a lot of people go missing near or around the forest. The cop car and ambulance pulled up, the medics quickly going to Izzy. I started talking to the officer after he introduced himself. "Hello, my name is Derrek, Derrek Ridger," he said with a calmness I envied. "My name's Maria, Maria Sánchez," I said, shaking his now outstretched hand. His hand was warm, a little warmer than most people's hands, which threw me off. "So, tell me, Ms. Sánchez, what happened here tonight?" he asked. I looked back at my friend, who was being put into a body bag, and tears started to run down my face, realizing my friend was gone. We grew up together in a small town, and we were here for a vacation; we were in college and had just finished exams. I wiped my tears away before turning back to the officer. "I'm sorry, but she's dead, isn't she?" I asked, hopeful that wasn't the case, but I knew all too well it was. "Yes, Ms. Sánchez, I'm sorry," he said, not with a lot of emotion in his voice. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either. "Please continue," he said. "We came here on vacation. We've only been here a few days and heard about this night club, so we wanted to check it out. My boyfriend, James, got us a limo and brought us here. We had just gotten into the club and found a table. James went to use the restroom and grab some drinks. He forgot the drinks, and a strange guy walked up, asking her to dance. A shiver ran down my spine as they moved onto the dance floor; there was something about him that made my skin crawl. I was taken to the dance floor by my boyfriend, and I tried to keep an eye on her, but at some point, I lost track of her. That's when I came looking for her. The man that asked her to dance was heading toward the outskirts of town, toward the forest... and I think he had some kind of flashlight in his hands," I said, a nagging feeling about that light – it didn't seem quite right. A momentary flash in the officer's eyes, reignition, or maybe something else. A sigh escaped his lips. "We will get to the bottom of this. Please return to your hotel room and leave as soon as you can, young miss," the officer stated, his eyes, which had felt strangely warm when we shook hands, turning clouded, like a storm was brewing.

Derek's Point of View

I was working late at the police station when we received a 911 call about a young girl, "unconscious" at the local night club. Thinking it was just another drunk patron, I told my boss I would handle it. Leaving the old brick building, I opened the single glass door, heading into the parking lot where police cruisers sat waiting. I dug around in my pocket for the keys to my assigned car before walking past three other units parked neatly. Coming around the rear end of my car, I walked to the driver's seat, inserting the key into the lock and turning it to unlock my car before pulling the key out and reaching my hand into the handle to open the door. The door sounded like it hadn't been opened in years, though it was just the other day. These cars were old. I sat down in the driver's seat, turned on my lights and sirens. The fire station wasn't far down the road, and they pulled in behind me on the way to the scene. I sighed, thinking this was a waste of time. But as I arrived on scene, the air hung heavy with a cloying sweetness, almost floral, but underneath it was a sharp, metallic tang that pricked at my nostrils – something unnatural. Beneath that, a residual musk, feral and unfamiliar, lingered. I looked around, the scent creating fleeting images in my mind – a swift, forceful action, a sense of vital energy being drawn away, a fleeting glimpse of something luminous. Looking over at the young girl slumped against the wall, I knew she was already dead. Being a werewolf has its advantages. I walked over to the young woman pacing back and forth and introduced myself. Derrek approached the distraught young woman pacing erratically near the slumped form against the brick wall. The cloying sweetness in the air was stronger here, almost suffocating, confirming his grim initial assessment. He took a moment to compose himself, projecting an aura of calm he rarely felt in these situations. "Hello, my name is Derrek, Derrek Ridger," he said, extending a hand.

Her hand, when she took his, was cold and trembling. "My name's Maria, Maria Sánchez," she replied, her voice thick with unshed tears. He noted the lingering warmth of his own hand against hers, a constant reminder of his otherness.

"So, tell me, Ms. Sánchez, what happened here tonight?" he prompted gently, his enhanced hearing already picking up the subtle tremors in her voice, the frantic beat of her heart.

She looked back at the body being placed in the bag, and the dam finally broke. Tears streamed down her face as she confirmed the obvious. "I'm sorry, but she's dead, isn't she?"

"Yes, Ms. Sánchez, I'm sorry," he responded, keeping his tone neutral, carefully masking the surge of frustration and grim certainty within him. Emotion wouldn't help her now, and it certainly wouldn't help him maintain control. "Please continue."

Her story tumbled out, a jumbled mess of vacation plans, a nightclub visit, a strange man, and a dance. He focused on the details, his mind already piecing together a likely scenario. The "flashlight" heading towards the forest. That was the key. He'd heard similar descriptions before – a cold dread tightened in his chest. Too many times.

"The man that asked her to dance was heading toward the outskirts of town, toward the forest... and I think he had some kind of flashlight in his hands," she said, the last part laced with a hint of confusion.

A flicker of grim recognition, confirming his darkest suspicions, must have betrayed itself in his gaze. He sighed inwardly. He'd hoped to keep her oblivious, at least for a little longer.

"We will get to the bottom of this," he said, his voice firm, projecting an authority he hoped would be enough. "Please return to your hotel room and leave as soon as you can, young miss." He let a hint of his weariness bleed into his tone, hoping she would sense the urgency. His eyes, reflecting the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles, felt heavy, the beast within stirring with a familiar, unwelcome awareness. He needed her gone, safe from whatever had done this, and potentially, safe from him if things escalated. The storm was brewing, both within him and in the unseen world around them.

Silas's Point of View

The call came in as an unconscious female at the nightclub. Standard Friday night stuff. Me and Marco rolled up in the ambulance, lights flashing, the usual routine. But when we got to the alleyway behind the club, the air was… wrong. Thick with this cloying sweetness, almost floral, but underneath it was a sharp, metallic tang that made my gut clench.

The cop on scene, Ridger, looked like he'd seen a ghost. He was talking to a young woman who was clearly out of her mind with grief. We went straight to the body. Young girl, maybe early twenties. No obvious trauma. Pale as a ghost.

"Looks like a possible overdose," Marco muttered, but something felt deeply off to me. There was a stillness about her, an emptiness that didn't quite fit.

We bagged her and loaded her into the ambulance. Ridger gave the distraught friend some instructions, his voice calm but with this weird tension underneath. As we pulled away, I glanced back at the alleyway. That sweet, sickly smell still hung in the air. Whatever happened here wasn't just a typical overdose. There was something else, something dark. And the way Ridger was acting, that tight jaw and haunted look in his eyes… it gave me the creeps.