The Villain Complex

Alive

Alive

My eyes shot open. I gasped in shock as oxgen returned back into my lungs. I slowly began to breathe in and out. I began to slowly breathed in and out in a rhymastic pattern. In a desperate attempt to calm my body down.

"I.... How long.... How long have I been out?"

I sat up and bury my head in my hands. My body no longer felt as numb. All the numbness had been replaced by a horrible, throbbing pain that started at my left arm, where the wound was, and stopped at my head. I rolled back the sleeves, I could feel the sharp glass and dried blood covering my bare

"Darkness!?" I called out. At this point I hadn't toke a good inspection of where I actually was. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes to the seemingly endless blackness surrounding me. After sometime my eyes did at last adjust.

I looked up and saw the gaping hole in the ceiling. There was a beautiful, light, pure beam of light shooting down from the moon above. The air coming in through the hole was cool, crisp and alive. The atmosphere was almost surreal. The smooth sound of the wind outside. Hearing the ever so soft noise of crowded city squares and undeniable fact that I was still alive. I began to feel more refreshed and reenergized. I took a deep breath and sighed. I arose to my feet. I wobbled around on my feet for a moment, fighting for a better stance. I soon won the battle for stability and got my footing.

"I wonder where I am?" I thought, my eyes scanning around the room. I knew if I could find a wall. I could probably soon find a door to exit the room. With that in mind, I started to walk straight. I stumbled over a few old, broken, dirty creates, sometimes stopping to check to see if they had a flashlight of some sorts.

Eventually, I hit one of the walls. Shimmying along the wall, I soon found what felt like a door knob. "Aha!" I smiled and tightly wrapped my freezing, exposed fingers around the cool, metal, dusty doorknob. After tugging and turning the wretched thing, but to no avail. I finally decided that kicking the door down would be best. I released my fingers, which were now throbbing from how force I had applied, away from the door knob. Backing up a few steps, I took a deep breath and kicked the door as hard as I could in the middle.

I yelped in a mix of shock and pain as my foot went straight through the door's rotted wood. "That didn't go as planned." I thought, pulling my leg out of the large, jagged hole. I reached my hand through the hole and started to feel around. Looking for the opposite doorknob. After five minutes of mindless searching, at last I found it.  

I grabbed a loose hold of the equally cold doorknob and shook it. Trying to deceiver whether the it was also locked. To my disadvantage, it was also locked. I sighed and pulled my hand away.

"Daylight won't be here for a while.... Probably by that time I'll already be captured by then. Legion aren't the type to just give up. I'm surprised that I even made it out if there alive."

I sighed, leaning against the wall and sliding down to sit down.

*Meanwhile In Another Part Of The Upper-City*

(3rd Person POV)

"Who are we supposed to meet here anyway, Velmaior?" Catherine asked as they made their way through the crowds of endless amounts people that filled the streets at this time of night. "A old friend of mine. He said he may some have information about the murder." Velmaior explained, walked through the crowd and pushing anyone to close next to him out if the way. "Really? Who?" Catherine rose an eyebrow to this claim. Velmaior was always one to make in friends in high places, but having a source for this murder was almost hard for to believe. "Oh, Victor Brace? He's a teacher at the school our suspect went to" Velmaior explained.

"Why are we visiting him at this hour then?"

Catherine asked, looking at Velmaior. "Well, Catherine. He's a vampire too. A good thousand years older than me. But don't worry. He doesn't have wrinkles." Velmaior chuckled, licking his lips. "But all joking aside. He is a 8th grade history teacher. What better person to teach history than someone who has lived through half of that stuff? Just be careful. He's still a vampire, so don't leave my side no matter what. Werewolf or not. He'll still try to suck your blood given the change." Velmaior warned as he walked into a small, hole-in-the-wall, side shop. A small bell rang as walked through the door.

"Hei, vi her på jakt etter Victor Brace(1)"

Velmaior told the thin, light haired, pale skinned, neon greened eye, teenage shopkeeper. "Victor, ikke sant? yeah, jeg skal gå få ham, min herre.(2)" The young shopkeeper nodded respectfully and walked to the back. The small shop was laden with old relics. Some dating all the back from the Vikings. The shop smelt of smelting metals and the fresh aroma of new leather still hung in the thick, smoky air. "Velmaior, where are we?" Catherine asked, looking around the well lit establishment. The whole place had a cozy feel, and in Catherine's mind, was barely the place for a vampire.

"Hei, Velmaior! I haven't seen you in almost a thousand years!" Victor laughed with a think Norwegian accent, barging through the doors. Victor Brace was a muscular, tall, medium built man with green as emeralds and hair as orange as fresh carrots. He was normally a jolly, loud and patient follow. A far cry from most vampires. "So, my good friend. What is the issue?"  Victor asked with a laugh.

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Translations:  

(1) Hei, vi her på jakt etter Victor Brace-- hello, we're here looking for Victor Brace

(2) Victor, ikke sant? yeah, jeg skal gå få ham, min herre-- Victor, huh? yeah, I'll go get him, my lord

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