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27.08% The Vampire and The Addams / Chapter 12: Proven Wrong, You Were Right

Bab 12: Proven Wrong, You Were Right

The day of the Harvest Festival went by without issue and it was time for my plan to commence.

My "stalker" had been interestingly MIA.

No doubt plotting or planning something.

That smirk he wore whenever we would "interact", promised of intrigue. He seemed to have an incredibly abnormal interest in playing with me, therefore him being absent for most of the day has sent me into a state of constant alertness.

However, I cannot allow myself to be sidetracked by his absence. He could be standing right beside me at the moment and I would not know.

"Are you sure you can trust that normie?" My roommate asks from beside me. Her concern is unnecessary.

"I trust that I can handle myself," I reply. There are only two individuals who put me at a severe disadvantage, and one does not count, because it is a spirit that wanders around my mind. The other...is invisible.

Tyler appears to be arguing with his father. No doubt due to my presence. His father, the sheriff, does not trust me at all. He believes my father to be a murderer and it is likely that I do not fall far from the tree. He is partially correct. I am not adverse to murder, however only when it is necessary and only when the world would be less filthy without them.

"Well, good luck and safe travels." My roommate, Enid, goes in for a hug, which naturally causes me to take a step back. I will hit her. However, she gets the message.

"Still not a hugger. Got it." She relents from her ridiculous display of affection and walks away.

I look to the side and see Weems watching me while eating a burger. No doubt, believing herself to be capable of stopping my escape. The deluded fool.

I walk around, still in her view, until a spot a stuffed panda being offered as a prize. This should do.

I fling the darts at the balloons. My accuracy exact as always.

"Jeez, you get any better at this, you'll be taking home a whole pack." Xavier says, as way of announcing himself. Another inconvenience.

"Pandas don't travel in packs. They prefer solitude," is my only reply and not so subtle hint.

"All right. Subtle hint taken." Well, at least he has grown smarter over the years. However, he still does not leave.

"You should know I'm waiting for someone."

"Oh yeah, who's the lucky guy...or girl?" He asks, as if I have any interest in dating any of these walking blocks of wood. None of them can keep up. None can handle me....none. He is only advantaged because he can erase his presence. That is all. Besides, I felt something from my spirit companion, once. Something that went beyond platonic. Something that I have yet to address with it. Can spirits grow feelings for the living? Despite my near dead heart, I am still living.

I turn to face the annoyance, "what does it matter to you?" He questions me as if he is my stalker.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," Tyler says, finally catching up.

Xavier seems put off by him. "You're not," his only reply, before moving along. There seems to be a story there. Perhaps a mystery as well. Though, not one that has my interest.

Tyler proceeds to inform me of his curfew and the collapsing window of time we have if we want to make our move.

"I've got some dead weight I need to lose first," I inform him, my attention diverting to Weems enjoying her burger. She waves. The smugness is annoying.

I focus back on Tyler, "meet me behind the parking lot when the fireworks start." He nods and is off.

The dart booth operator places my well earned giant stuffed panda down on the counter in front of me. Excellent.

"You see that sad, lonely woman over there?" He does, she is hard to miss in her dress and coat that do not fit the festival environment. "She needs this pathetic validation more than I do." I hand him a 10. "Would you mind distracting her?" Perfect.

Naturally, Weems takes her eyes off me and turns to look at the panda, and with that, I pull a Dracul and disappear.

I arrive at the meeting location to find Tyler.

He hands me the police report of my father's supposed murder.

Is this done out of kindness? He seems harmless enough.

We turn to make our way to the parking lot, however, before we can reach whatever ride he has set up for our escape, the three stooges from the cafe are back once again. Only this time, it seems they have learned their lesson and brought weapons. Bats and the sort. Ganging up three against one to fight one girl. The pilgrims would be proud. Dracul's face crossing my mind, the remembrance of the fear I saw etched across their "leader's" face. They would have left him alone after one lesson. Perhaps, I should do better.

Tyler grabs me. Trying to pull me to run. As if I am afraid of the sorry excuse for a mob. However, he is correct. We do not want the attention their screams would bring.

I allow him to pull me before I overtake him. We make our way through the crowd. There are too many people. I bump into one and have a vision.

I see a book, a bird, the fountain in the quad at the academy catching fire, the bird, the book, symbol, and then I see Rowan, the boy on the fencing team that I met my first day at the academy. Dying. Being torn to shreds as he wails.

The vision ends and I catch sight of Rowan moving further away. He seems startled and afraid. He runs, so I take off after him into the woods, leaving Tyler behind. I catch up as he takes a drag from his inhaler.

"What do you want why are you following me," he asks. Now, he seems angry.

"I don't have time to explain, but you're in danger." I try to warn him. However, he seems eerily calm. Too calm. Then, he laughs, mockingly. I do not see the joke.

"I think you've got it backwards," he states, even calmer than before, however it is mixed with an underlying crazy that I usually like to see, however not when it is pointed at me.

He thrusts his hand forward, sending me flying back into a tree. Not a soft landing. I can feel myself being pressed into the hard wood on my back. It could be a nice massage, if not for the crushing feeling it provides.

"You're the one who's in danger." He speaks from below as I look down at him from where I'm pressed in mid-air against the tree.

"What are you doing?" I question. It is becoming harder to breath.

He informs me that he is saving everyone from me and in order to do, he has to kill me. Great.

"The gargoyle, that was you?" I ask the question to the answer I now know.

"Yea." He answers. He seems proud.

"It's always the quiet ones." I remark, because its true. I knew it was incredibly unlikely to be the work of my stalker. It lacked a playfulness I had come to associate with him, and it had a certain essence of wanting to actually crush me.

Rowan, my newest win in the mysteries solved category, floats a picture in front of me.

A drawing...of me. Surrounded by flames.

"Girl in the picture. That's you." He states, as if it explains everything.

He is clearly insane, but not in the fun way. "You want to kill me because of some picture?" I can't help the incredulity that slips into my voice.

"My mother drew that picture 25 years ago when she was a student at Nevermore. She was a powerful Seer. Told me about it before she died." He monologues.

"Rowan, put me down." I ask nicely. This is getting less fun by the second.

"No! My mother said it was my destiny to stop this girl if she ever came to Nevermore, because she will destroy the school and everyone in it." Yes, definitely no longer fun.

His power surges, what was once an incredibly uncomfortable pressure, is now a crushing force, making it hard to breath, as I feel myself being further into the tree.

"Rowan," I call out, trying to snap him out of his insanity. "Rowan." I think I am about to die. The force is already past the point of bearable, however.....what..is...that?

A beast the height of three Rowan's standing on each other's shoulders picks him up in the air and slams him onto the ground with a loud thud.

I fall to the ground, paralyzed, as I watch Rowan get bisected by the monster, just as I saw in my vision.

It turns to look at me, growling, before looking off to the side of me. It looks like it is about to charge forward, but stops itself and turns and runs away.

I snap my head up and to the side where it was looking, only before I get even halfway up, I see Dracul, kneeling to my eye level on the ground. His eyes hold my gaze. His expression unreadable, however I'm certain I see rage in eyes. Is he mad? At what? Where has he been?

Our staring contest ends when he looks to where the monster left from, at Rowan's body.

"Too bad," I hear him say. What is too bad? That he did not kill me? "I wanted to kill that one myself." He finished. Oh. I do not know why that makes me feel better, but it does.

I scramble forward, I can feel him helping to hold me up as I make my way to Rowan's body.

Dead. Definitely dead.

I feel his hands on my arms. Is he comforting me? I am unsure. Why does his touch not bother me?

My mind is moving too fast, I need to calm down. We need to get help.

I stand and move out of his grasp, however I can still feel him near.

That is good.

I will never admit it, but his presence is comforting.

I ran through the woods, making my way back to the festival, his presence constantly at my back, however I cannot hear him. I am breathing too heavily. My body is in shock and so is my mind, I realize. This is new.

I see Bianca Barclay. She is not my favorite person, not after she bested me in fencing, the same day I met Rowan, due to my arrogance and impulsivity with a sword. It will not happen again.

I inform her of Rowan's death and where his body is. I can feel myself slipping into unconsciousness. Too much stimuli, on top of being suffocated. She looks at me like I'm crazy, however I can see she is taking it seriously. However, I can't help but note the fact that she has not looked behind me. I can feel him there, but she cannot see him. I like that. It is annoying the way people look at him. Like they want to eat him, without the cannibalism. It is probably why he does not appear before them. Only before me.

She runs off. I can feel my vision darkening. My legs growing heavier. My body rocks forward, then back, and then I feel him, physically. His arms wrapped around me. I feel safe in my stalkers arms. That is irregular...but I have never been called normal. My vision fades and consciousness eludes me. He better not undress me.

The next time I wake, it is night. I am in my room. Alone...not alone.

I lift my head from my bed and look towards my desk.

There he stands, reading what definitely does not belong to him.

Annoying.

I go to stand and he is before me. Standing incredibly close, but not touching me. I did not realize until this moment that the first time he has ever touched or attempted to touch me was when he did it to keep me from falling.

However, this time, he does not move to help me. That is good. He recognizes my strength. Only a good stalker would. He is still worthy of the title.

I walk past him and move to my desk to see what had his attention.

The drawing of me surrounded by flames, and the arrest report of my father.

I know he likes a good mystery, as well. Why else would he go about acting in such a way towards me? He clearly wants me to search out answers about him and figure him out. Why else would he ask me for my deductions, than simply telling me who and what he is. I do not mind.

The thought crossed my mind that he could have been sent by my family.

They know how much I love a good mystery, and this one is packaged incredibly nicely.

I am not vain, not in the least. However, I can see what looks appealing and what does not, and my stalker certainly "looks" appealing, in every way I have capable of discerning.

In his human form, everything about him says, refined elegance. His flawless brown skin, flowing hair, even the all black clothes that he constantly wears. I can tell they are not the same silky black outfits. Sometimes, they are silky smooth, others, a more denim bottom, but most just casual dress pants, with the always present button-down black tops. The earring wasn't there when we first met, however it complements him incredibly well. A sword. Is it a hint? Does he know the sword? Is he better than me?

If my family was going to send anyone, other than Thing, to keep watch over me, he would be perfect, however I do not believe him to be an agent of theirs. He does not seem the type to take employment from others. Besides, he also seems to enjoy being around me for his own purposes. Not through external factors. He is odd.

An appealing mystery, seemingly made just for me.

I sit at the desk, looking at the material presented before me.

The picture and the report.

"What do you think?" I ask him. I can feel him standing behind me.

He leans down. I feel him moving closer. His presence somehow subtle, but also expansive. His head is just above my shoulder, face beside mine. A preferred position of his, perhaps?

"I think..." he turns his head, so he is speaking directly into my ear. Yes, he definitely enjoys this position. "You have homework to do." Then, he was gone. His presence, his scent that I cannot place lingering in the air. He is truly annoying.

I pour over the papers. The appealing annoyance is correct. I do have homework to do.

The crystal ball given to me by my Mother in order for them to communicate with me begins to show life. They informed me they would contact me at the end of the week. Has it been a week already?

And there they are, my father Gomez, and my mother, Morticia.

"Hello, my little black cloud," my father waves in his insufferably cheerful demeanor. I do not believe I have ever seen the man sullen without significant reason.

They smile their smiles, untold sinister machinations hidden behind them. Probably already aware of the fact that I was proven wrong.

My mother begins, "so tell us darling, how was your first week?"

Let's see.

I narrowly avoided death twice, discovered that my father may be a murderer, learned that I could potentially destroy the school, was mysteriously saved by a homicidal monster, and met an incredibly dangerous and interestingly annoying person.

"As much as it pains me to admit, you were right, Mother. I think I'm going to love it here."

I smile, genuinely.


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