Chomp
Chapter 6: Red

I stared at Agnes, barely breathing, as she unlocked the door. She was dead serious. All of this—vampires, werewolves, everything—she believed wholeheartedly. It was certainly different from what I was used to, but not in a good way.

She was dangerous.

Yet there I was, following her up those goddamn stairs.

“Why would you want to kill a vampire, anyway?” I asked, stopping beside her. She yanked the wobbly handle of the door right off; a groan and a roll of the eyes told me this was a normal occurrence.

She jammed the knob back into place, fidgeting with it a bit. “Because,” she dragged out, still trying to fix the door. With a twist, it finally popped open, giving way to a dimly lit, cramped living room. Soft snores crept through the walls; whoever was home was asleep.

“Because you’re all the same.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, or why it offended me. If anything, it sounded a little racist, but I didn’t want to say anything. Stepping through the doorway, she fiercely whipped around and stared at me.

Cautiously, I stepped through as well. Her eyes narrowed as I closed the door, and her lips thinned. “Is… Is everything okay?” I asked quietly. It occurred to me how awkward it must be that I was inviting myself in. “I can leave if you want…”

She let out a heavy breath and dropped the intense expression. “No, it’s fine. No invitation required, I guess,” she decided, sounding disappointed. “Just be quiet.”

The floorboards creaked as she crept across them, disappearing down a tight hallway and into a room. I was about to follow her when her sweater came flying through the hall and landed at my feet. Her shirt followed, telling me it was probably a good idea to wait.

Face flushed from what her clothes at my feet would mean, I glanced around the tiny apartment to bide my time.

There wasn’t much to look at, despite being in the kitchen-living room; the only reason the designer had probably gone for open concept was because there simply wasn’t enough room elsewise.

The couch rested against the back of a counter with the TV precariously hung on the wall with some sort of rope. The counters of the kitchen were bare, save for a roll of paper towel and a bowl of leftover milk that had probably contained cereal at some point. A vicious hum emanated from the squat, green fridge that sat in the corner; I had no way of knowing, but something told me that there wasn’t a lot of food in it.

A soft clicking sound caught my attention and I looked around for the source of the noise. The dog hobbled into the room, its tongue hanging gleefully out of its mouth as its toenails ticked along the wood floor.

I knelt over and let its cold black nose brush against my hand as it took in my smell. “Your dog’s cute,” I whispered as loudly as I could.

Agnes stormed into the kitchen just as I was scratching the dog on its golden head. She had changed into an oversized t-shirt and what looked like booty shorts that were barely shown under the length of the shirt. “He’s not cute,” she hissed, placing a hand on her hip. “Sabre is a vicious attack dog. He can sense werewolves, and he can tear you to pieces!”

From the way Sabre rolled onto his back, it was clear to see that all the three-legged corgi wanted was a belly rub.

Vicious indeed.

I smiled as I scratched his belly and his eyes crossed in unbridled pleasure. She frowned, but didn’t continue with the subject. Instead, she yanked a cupboard open and pulled out what looked like a makeshift first aid kit.

“You should clean it before you sanitize it,” I said quickly. “A lot of people make that mistake, but it actually…”

She raised an eyebrow, and I cursed myself for becoming my dad. Still, Agnes rinsed her hands under the tap before grabbing some rubbing alcohol. The smell stung my nostrils, and I had to hide a gag.

Evidently Sabre had the same issue, though he wasn’t much good at hiding the choking sound. He growled slightly at the bottle, and Agnes rolled her eyes, a coy smile playing on her lips.

“It’s just rubbing alcohol,” she cooed, kneeling down. His pointed ears went back nervously.

“Maybe he thinks it’s a werewolf,” I teased, stroking him gently. The dog turned his doe-like eyes to me. “I can see how they might smell the same.”

“Shut up. He’s a great werewolf tracker, okay?” Agnes snapped, getting to her feet again. She reached for one of the rolled up bandages and gauze in the kit. “You going to tell me why you’re here, anyway?”

I stood up, much to Sabre’s disappointment. “I told you, the shortcut I took wasn’t actually—”

“I meant here-here, like in my house.”

It was a valid question, but one I wasn’t quite sure I had the answer to. “Well, I just thought… You were hurt, and I…”

“Know what happened to the last boy that followed me home?” she asked, holding her head high.

I studied her challenging expression. Clearly, she was reading far too much into this. “You… Sent him on his way, explaining that you weren’t into him in that way, but you were flattered he thought of you that way?” I offered nervously.

“Nope.”

“Well,” I continued dully. “I give up. What?”

She stared at me long and hard for a few seconds, not saying a word. “Well, that doesn’t matter,” she finally confessed. Her cheeks flared, and I wasn’t sure I quite understood. “I didn’t need your help, so you can go before I change my mind.”

“Change your mind about what?” I asked wildly. This girl seemed to be all over the place, spewing out threats and suspicious, cryptic words.

She rolled her eyes. “Look, Holy Blades are excellent for popping a vampire, but they’re also pretty damn effective on perverted humans like you. Now go.”

I had to weigh her words, but everything seemed to click. “So I’m no longer a vampire in your eyes?” I offered, trying to hide my glee. “What changed?”

“You’re just too…” she started, gesturing to all of me. She was at a loss for words, and I wasn’t sure whether to be hurt or happy.

I decided to go with satisfaction. “Not vampire-y enough?”

She shrugged. “Guess so. Even if you were, you’re kind of too lame to be worth my time anyway, so no harm there. Now charge your phone so you can get some maps and be on your way.”

It was as if she had punched me in the stomach. I wanted to take it as a compliment—she was letting me get off scot-free, after all—but it all sounded a little too much like an insult. “W-Where do you… I mean… How do you know so much about them, anyway?”

She plopped onto the couch and crossed her bare legs as she wrapped the bandage around her hand. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she murmured.

“Yes, I would,” I explained, following her. There wasn’t much else in the way of seating, so I sat myself down on the creaky floor. “That’s why I—”

“Reading, mostly. But some experience too.”

Our eyes met and held for a long time. “You mean you’ve…?”

“Lots of times. They’re pretty much all real—Vampires, werewolves, harpies, ghosts. Though some more rare than others.”

It all seemed too surreal; of her list, I had only encountered one, and I wasn’t sure how ready I was to believe in the others. “And you… what? Dabble in underworld magic?”

The comment had come off snider than I had intended, and I regretted the tone as soon as I used it. “Sorry…” I whispered softly. Apparently, today was just not my day for social interactions. “That was really rude, and I’m sorry.”

“See, it’s behaviour like that that tells me you’re not a vampire. You’re too much of a pushover, and you apologize way too much for it to even begin to be healthy.”

Such painful wounds.

“What behaviour classifies as a vampire, then? The second day I saw you, you asked how I was out in the sun. That’s a given from all the legends, I guess?”

She nodded. “Photosensitivity in general,” she explained, grabbing at a few strands of ginger hair. “I think it’s because they’re supposed to be nocturnal. It makes sense that their eyes wouldn’t be able to take sunlight.”

If this was her own theory, she had hit the nail on the head. My vision was greatly deteriorated in the light, however, not to the point that I suspected she thought. Still, it was impressive she had gotten there.

“As for the burning in the sunlight,” she continued, braiding the hair she had grabbed. “I think that’s a load of crap. I mean, there are some creatures that live really deep in the ocean that never see the light of day—I think they would burn up and stuff. But it would be impossible for a vampire to exist—assuming they live off human blood—without being in the sun even a little bit.”

She was like some sort of a vampire ethologist, and I found it inexplicably endearing. Everything I knew about vampires had come from personal experience, but of course, I had an advantage over her regarding that. Agnes seemed to just have a general interest in the subject, entirely from a scientific perspective.

Sabre waddled over to me and made himself comfortable in my lap.

“Sucks that human’s all they can eat though,” I said, letting the sentence hang between us as I stroked the dog’s head.

She took it like a challenge, just as I’d hoped, and kissed her teeth. “Please,” she drew out. “Human blood is almost exactly like pig’s blood. Switch out the two, and only a really good scientist would know. Vampires go with human if the option is there—much tastier. But it isn’t easy to get to, and something they’d be caught for. Realistically, prudent vampires go with the alternatives.”

She didn’t seem suspicious of my behaviour. If anything, she seemed to have a bit of a spark to her.

Despite the low light, I resisted the urge to smile. She understood; she really got it. “And… how they kill?” I asked, barely breathing.

“Depends.”

“On?” I urged.

“What they’re planning to do after. Eat them? Play with them? It affects everything.”

I frowned. This was news to me. “How so?”

“Well, first you’d need to know about basic vampire anatomy, Sammy. And I really don’t think I have time for that tonight; teacher’s tired.” She got to her feet, and stretched, pulling the oversized t-shirt up slightly. My eyes ran down her butt to her muscular legs, stopping at her toes that had been painted black.

“Now—if you’re done staring,” she said, sounding like the perfect cross between bitter and flattered. The smirk on her face told me it was more the second. “I need to go to bed and get some rest. Vampires don’t kill themselves.”

I had suspected that she was into that sort of stuff, but it felt a little strange hearing it directly. It would have been like hearing someone say ‘Yes, that’s right. I kill white people for a living; no big deal.’

Slowly, I got to my feet, displacing Sabre from my lap. “Well, thanks for letting me intrude,” I said, smiling.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d have said her face flushed. “It’s no big deal.”

A long silence hung between the two of us. “So… Would it be weird to ask if we could talk more about that stuff?” I asked hesitantly. It probably was weird, but I had to make sure.

“…R-Really?”

For the first time in probably her whole life, Agnes looked… vulnerable. Her large blue eyes were cautious, unsure, and defensive. It struck me that this might have been one of the only times that someone was actually interested in hearing about something she was passionate about.

It made me angry to think that something like that could happen. “Definitely,” I replied firmly. “It’s… It’s kind of different, but I like it. I mean, I… I kinda’ hoard comics, and there’s a lot of crossover there, but… Same time tomorrow?”

“How about… We meet at a normal time, in a normal place, so I don’t have to deal with the worry of entertaining a guest?” she asked, crossing her arms. She jammed a thumb in the direction the snores had come from earlier. “I mean, my neighbours are sleeping, and microwaving popcorn would probably wake them up.”

Her neighbours, but nothing about a family. “Fine. Meet after school?”

“Deal.”

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