Chapter Text
The house felt empty. Tidy in only a clinical way, like Chris was forcing himself to do it. Forcing himself to put on a smile, only for his girls. After Leon went M.I.A. on a mission 10 years ago, it put Chris into an unbearable depression. He pushed on only for Sherry and Rosemary, putting on a mask of nonchalance. But they were still his children, after all. There wasn’t much he could hide from them.
But life, sadly, had to go on. Sherry got married a few months ago. Claire walked her down the aisle. She moved out to live with Jake. Claire was happy, well into a marriage with a woman named Selena. She was nice, and Chris approved of her. Jill, after years of continuous healing from many things, finally got better, now in a fresh marriage with none other than Mr. Oliveria. Even Rosemary. She was already starting school.
Everybody moved on. Chris still visited Leon’s empty grave.
Every night Chris walked onto the balcony, a cigarette lit in his hand, he talked to the stars. Somewhere out there, Leon would be listening actively. Would add his quips and stupid jokes, and his smile would light the dimmed soul inside Chris.
Oh, his Leon. He missed him unimaginably. He yearned for that touch, look and laugh. He would give a lifetime only to experience it again.
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“Dad!” Rose yelled from somewhere in the house, effectively waking Chris up.
Peering open his eyes, Chris - with great effort - got himself out of the bed to find Rose. He walked through the house, seeing her packing her bag on the kitchen stool. “I’m hungry. Can you make pancakes?” She spoke, focused on trying to fit her plushie in her school bag.
Chris checked the time on his phone, still groggy from sleep. “Honey, why are you packing for school at six in the morning?” He squinted. “Is that the weird booger thing I bought you last week? Why are you taking that to school?”
Rose sighed. “It’s slime, dad. You’re so old.”
He raised an eyebrow, but chose not to comment. Instead, he walked to the kitchen, taking out some ingredients for the crepes. Rose always called them pancakes, so Chris figured out early on after multiple sour faces that she’s talking about crepes.
“Are you excited to hang out with your auntie after school?” Chris asked while washing his hands.
“I am?!” Rose squealed excitedly, running over to Chris to hug his leg.
Chris smiled, picking her up so she sat on his hip, hearing a muttered “I’m not a kid anymore…”, but no further complaints.
“Yeah,” Chris confirmed, “I have to work today, I’m not sure how long it’ll take. Claire will pick you up. She said she has the whole day planned out for you two.” He finished the batter for the crepes, putting a small amount of butter on the pan, and getting his start on the batch.
“Why don’t you go get dressed while I make these, honey?” Chris put her down, watching her run off to her bedroom, before shifting his attention back to the crepes.
The work trip in question had been actually inside their city. Inside New York. A little too close to home, Chris thought. There had been sightings of dead people around dark allies. The bodies always appeared overnight, with blood gushing out of their necks. Holes in the neck that represented a vampire bite. And it would be a case for the NYPD, if saliva with mutated genes wasn’t found in it. And now Chris is being sent on the solo mission, to pose as an unassuming civilian.
He has to get the B.O.W’s blood sample. Simple. Well it would be if something wasn’t up, something that involved Chris.
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Chris wore casual attire, simple jeans, a t-shirt and his usual jacket, where a gun lay concealed beneath it. He walked the lit up streets of New York, looking around for a small, dark alley. Eventually, he finds himself walking into one, phone in hand to seem distracted. He leans against a wall, appearing to text someone on a first glance. Chris’ senses stood sharp, for any sound, or movement that shouldn’t be there. After about 15 minutes, he hears a small ruffle. And then a loud hiss - something tackling him to the ground, with fast, inhumane speed.
He whips the gun out, shooting the thing shoulder. As it retracts ever so slightly, he manages to gather a small amount of its blood into a tube glass container. It tries attacking him again, but Chris hears a loud “Stop!”, and a hiss following it. Another figure moving too fast takes the one that was straddling Chris, and they disappear into the shadows. Chris feels a little light headed from the blood loss, but manages to stand up, limping his way out of the alley, and onto the still-crowded streets. He covers his neck, to appear like he was scratching it. Lifting his hand up to call a cab driving around, he sits inside and says the address. Sighed, he looks at the tube of blood that sat in his hand, mind beginning to wander.
What the hell was that? Obviously some vampiric type of virus, since it drank his blood like that. But why did the thing get..stopped? By its own kind no less. But the talking proved they were intelligent, not at all zombie like. With their movements, speaking, and possibly non psychotic thinking. So they had consciousness.
Chris sighed. Even once he came home, made dinner for Rose, Claire and himself, he couldn’t stop thinking about that second creature. Why him? Why did it stop one of his own, and not finish it off? All of those questions will hopefully be answered soon.