Jekyll & Hide

Cordova 
#1



The night was freezing, with rain pouring from the skies. With the cold weather almost no one was out. Luka liked the solitude, it was pleasent to walk down the street without the chance of a passing conversation. He couldn't even feel the cold and had opted out of wearing a coat feeling there was no need. It wasn't like he was going to be out in the rain the whole night either. He had only stepped outside to grab some paints for the ceilings of the group place.

It was when he was walking back buckets of blues in hand that he caught the thud of a heartbeat. The night had been a whirlwind of activity with getting started on the paintings that he hadn't feed yet. He paused wondering if this person would be one he could feed from or not.

He followed the sound not at all expecting to see the somewhat familair brown bob. Familiar in that he had painted her before. He froze suprised to see someone he knew, even a little. The can of paint bumped noisily against his leg.

What was he going to do now? And why was she out in the cold and rain?


@kitty

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#2
 She'd been out having dinner with some friends, followed by multiple glasses of wine and idle chatter. This before Poppy had decided to head home, but for once she had skipped getting an Uber. Deciding to take a walk to a 24/7 coffee shop and get herself a cup of coffee before actually heading home, she was out on her own. Truth to be told, she felt the urge to sober up a bit before and thus she was walking around with a cup of heaven in her hands. Somewhere along the way, the skies had opened up though and the rain was pouring down. Chilling her to her bones, while feebly trying to retrieve some warmth from the coffee.

 Soaking wet, Poppy had managed to find cover and was hoping to wait it out. The rain was dripping from the tips of her hair and she had sought cover in a small doorway into an unknown building. Trying to escape the rain the best she could, she leaned back against the door and the slim roof over her head did the bare minimum to provide with cover. Mumbling to her drunken self, she was surprised to hear a sort of metallic sound. Her gaze went searching, soon falling on a strangely familiar face. It took her a second, but then she remembered the framed print at home and for a moment she forgot about the rain.

 Stepping out of the doorway, she hurried over to him. "Jesus fucking christ, aren't you cold?" She asked, eyeing his attire. "It's Luka, right??"



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#3
He could smell the acid taste of alcohol on her and worry flaired up. Why was she out in the cold and rain drunk? His brows furrowed as he looked over her soaked hair. Her expression seemed to be the same as she took in his own wet cat appearence. But he wasn't cold, at all even with the rain soaking through his shirt. He also happened to be dead.

"I-it is a bit chilly out here."

He stuttered trying to think up any reason for not having a coat that he could tell her.

"But I didn't expect it to rain. I just needed to buy some paints for my current job."

Said cans of paint klinked against his leg again as he gave it a little shake for empahsis. Her heartbeat was loud, thudding in his ears. Hunger pulled in his stomach. He tried to shake it away more concerned about her.

"Im painting a-at a museum that's not to far i-if you want t-to come with and get out of the cold."
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#4
 It was more than a bit chilly if you asked her and she frowned slightly at him. "We're in the middle of November, you know that right?" She was clearly questioning his poor choice clothing wise, wondering how he could not be super cold by now. Poppy could swear that the rain and the wind went straight to her bones, as her hands even trembled. If it wasn't for the red lipstick on her lips, they'd most likely have a cool shade of blue.

 Her gaze slipped down to the bag he was carrying, recognising the sound she had heard only a moment ago. Glancing up at him, furrowing her brows she soon shook her head. "Boys. You're crazy." She stated, bringing the lukewarm coffee to her lips. Frowning at the taste of it, before her attention flickered back to the pretty painter. Even now, in the rain, while she swore she looked like trash - he almost looked like if he had stepped out of a painting. How was that even possible? Some people sure had the mother goddess on their side.

 "But sure, why not. Do you have a charger? Think I need to charge my phone." She hadn't really dared to pick it up, because of the rain, but the cold itself would've been enough to kill the battery by now. "Is it far away? Pretty sure I'm soaked through every bloody layer." Poppy frowned and tossed her cup in the closest trash bin.
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#5
Well he could live with her thinking he was crazy and hopefully his lack of a coat wouldn't be a big concern. Hoisting the paint up to a more secure grip he would lead the way to the museum only a couple blocks way.

"Its not far at all. I have my phone charger there as well."

He wasn't sure if it would fit her phone or not but they could try.

The museum wasn't open to the public yet as the last renovations like his paintings were still being completed. But he had the spare key for the night andvlet both of them in.
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#6
 Hadn't it been for them having met at the fair, Poppy wouldn't have as much as considered it. But now? The brunette didn't even hesitate as she followed him, walking with him to the aforementioned museum. "So what are you painting? Still portraits or... umm." There had been something else too. Poppy thought about it for a second, before it came to her. "Landscapes! Right? That was also a thing?"

 Stepping inside, she pulled her fingers through her damp hair and looked around. The warmth was instant and for her, having been so cold, it was almost like walking into a warm hug. It send shivers down her spine and she opened her coat as she looked around. "Wow, I've never been to a museum in the middle of the night." She chuckled, no, almost giggled. "The objects aren't going to come alive now, are they?" She asked, referring to the movie Night at the Museum.
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#7
Once inside he would set the cans down to help her take off her coat, figuring that it was the nice and right thing to do. They didn't have a coat rack so he would just lay it on any given surface if she accepted said help. If not he would let her be. At the mention of things coming to life, he was reminded of Ms Stewart and her magic. He shivered not at all amused by the possibility.

"T-there is nothing here yet so that certainly won't happen."

He tried for a smile but it came out a little sadly. Quick to change the subject he would ruffle around his own bag that was laying at the base of a wall and produce his phone charger.

"I am painting the ceilings."

Was his answer to her earlier question. As he spoke he would hand over the charger.
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#8
 The femme let her new friend help her with her coat, not objecting even the slightest. Or was nice getting the wet coat off, but also made her more aware of her slightly damp clothes. Shivering, she wrapped her own arms around her as she took a few steps further in. "You sure about that? Considering everything going on in this world." Another chuckle as she glanced his way, Poppy soon shifted her attention to the ceiling.

 A soft 'wow' escaped her as she looked up, eyes shimmer with a slight touch of admiration. "I thought portraits were your main thing." She teased, turning to him as he offered her his charger. "Oh, right." Having forgotten about the charger for a brief moment, Poppy took it with an appreciative smile as he offered it to her. "Thanks." Digging through her purse, she soon found her phone and it was just like she had suspected. It was dead. Dropping her bag on the floor, Poppy soon found a power outlet and set her phone aside.

 "How come you're doing this in the middle of the night? I'm assuming this place isn't even open yet."
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#9
She teased him about the artifacts coming to life a bit more, and he could only offer the slimmest of smiles. Ms Stewart had spooked him with her abilities and he hadn't giving much time to really think about this knew knowledge. So to be teased like this felt like some sort of cruel irony. But he remembered that this woman had been a bit inquisitive in their last meaning and figured she didn't mean anything bad by her words.

She did take the charger and it seemed to fit her phone which was good. In the mean time maybe she could call a taxi with his. Thinking on this he would pull his own phone out of his bag. He had left it behind not thinking he would need it to go get paint. Probably a good idea considering how wet his pockets were. Standing back up he would turn to her.

"Y-you can use my phone in the mean time if you want. T-to call a taxi."

But her attention had been on the ceiling and questions that he was no faced with. He flailed for an answer that wouldn't sound like a lie.

"M-my friend owns this place, I am painting the ceilings f-for her. J-just when I have free time in the evenings."

That was all true so thankfully he didn't' sound like he had just made it all up on the spot. This whole vampire thing was getting rather tricky.
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#10
 Truth to be told, she hadn't even thought about getting a cab once they had been headed to the museum. And for now, she wasn't really thinking about getting home as she watched the masterpiece on the ceiling. It was something about it and she turned to him with a smile and a new set of questions. Poppy was a little distracted by his offer however, seeing as it hadn't been on her mind quite yet.

 "In a hurry to get me out of the way?" Poppy was teasing again, but did listen to his replies at least. Letting out a soft 'hmm', she was soon moving again. Her gaze shifting towards a dark hall deeper into the building, her feet soon moving again. Walking away from him and the light, walking further inside. "What kind of a friend owns a museum? What is she planning on showing Cordova?" Poppy glanced at Luka over her shoulder. "You're not gonna let me go on a tour all on my own, are you?"
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#11
"N-n-no."

He stuttered out going red as she suggested that he wanted her out of the way. He hadn't meant it like that. Just thought she would have liked to get into clean non-dripping clothes. And now she was going into the museum. Scrambling he dug around in his bag and produced an extra shirt though it was paint splattered.

"T-there isn't anything in here yet. B-but I c-can show you around. J-just put this on."

He held out the shirt to her. Mostly so that she could get out of her wet one, and because there was open paint all over the place and he didn't want her to accidentally stain her clothes.

"Ms Stewart and Ms Vashti h-have some stuff from their homelands they w-want to display."
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#12
 Aw, was he blushing? Poppy giggled, but decided to be nice enough not to say anything about it. Instead she beamed at him as he agreed to show her around, so she didn't even question the shirt as he handed it over to her. "Sure. At least it's dry." Poppy spun around and returned to her bag, where she shamelessly removed her blouse and put his paint splattered tee on instead.

 "Stewart and Vashti? Huh." Poppy hung her blouse to dry on the scaffold, soon digging into her purse for her water bottle. Suddenly something stung the tip of her finger, the feeling very much similar to a sharp needle or a safety pin. "Aouch," quickly pulling back her hand, she saw blood on the tip of her finger. Cussing to herself, she brought the finger to her lips before (more carefully) retrieving the bottle with her other hand. Poppy was soon back on her feet and took a quick look at her finger, before sucking on it again.

 "Ugh. I pricked my finger on something sharp." She complained, checking her finger again as she returned to his side. "Oh well, it'll stop bleeding any second." Looking up at him, she smiled. "Come on, show me all the secrets of this place and your friends."
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#13
She ascent to the shirt and he gave a sigh of relief that was quickly stiffled as she decided to strip right there in the entrance hall. He had seen plenty of naked people in his life, but not like this. Nothing in any one on one setting without the purpose of modeling. So he quickly averted his gaze. She was a fast changer though and soon enough the wet blouse was exhanged for the much to large paint splattered shirt. He expected her to turn then and make another comment or another on the mysteries of the museum. He certainly wasn't expecting her to give a hiss of pain or to smell the deliciouis, sweet, poweful scent of blood.

It was if a dam had broken, hunger came surging up. As if he was a starving man before a feast. He had not feed yet, having been more focused on painting. Something he was bound to regret. But such emotions didn't exist in that moment. The only thing that mattered was the smell of blood. Soft baby grey's swirled with red, overcome and conquered by the color. Gums throbbed and split letting fangs slip out between teeth.

The fact that he knew this woman, had drawn her. Or even that he had promised to show her around didn't matter. Nor did any sense of hiding what he was. Drawn by the blood he rushed forward instincts screaming to grab, hold, and peirce skin with fangs. To drink deeply. Except that his own bag strap caught on his foot and he stumbled. His bag was thrown onto it's back spilling out all manner of art supplies. Sketchbooks, pencils, paints, prints, and his cellphone.



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#14
 It all happened so fast. One moment she was turned towards him, smiling brightly and still slightly intoxicated. The next she saw the shift in him; the change of eye color and the sudden.. She couldn't quite describe it, but she was fully aware what was happening. He wasn't her first encounter with a vampire; but definitely her first where he would come at her.

 Poppy screamed and jumped backwards, eyes wide and set on him as he stumbled on his bag. It gave her a second or two of a headstart, and the femme spun around and ran. He had been between her and the exit, so she impulsively decided that this was her better option in hopes of putting some distance between them. So she ran further into the museum, too afraid to stop and look. The darkness wasn't to her advantage as she ran down dark hallway, soon trying one door after another in the hopes of finding somewhere to hide.
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#15
He would have been horrified at himself for scaring her if there had been any rational thought. But there was none. Just the smell of blood in his nose and the desire to feed. Kicking the bag out of the way he would start after the screaming woman no sense to do anything subtle but simply charge after. He was fast, much faster then her. And he would reach out to grasp fangs ready. If he caught her there would be no pause simply a jolt, like the biting of a snake, into any open skin. There was no control, no thoughts about the damage this would cause to Poppy, himself, or to Ms Stewart and Ms Vashti.



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#16
 Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was trying to yank a door open, when she suddenly felt a pair of hands on her. Poppy hadn't even noticed him! And before she knew it, she felt the sharp pain of fangs piercing her pale skin. Poppy screamed again, fighting against him, and attempted to break free. All she wanted was to get away and didn't even stop to think of the potential damage in her trying to escape. What could a pair of fangs actually do? The fact that she didn't even feel any pain a moment later didn't seem to cross her mind as she cried, begging to be released. "No, no.. no. Please, let me go."
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#17
Warmth pooled against his lips and the blood tasted sweet. Intoxicating. Needed more. But she was pulling away, struggling against his hold. Fangs lost purchase and he snarled. The tips of his nails grew claw like in the attempt to keep her still. The pretty marble face gave way to one far more monstrous. His bottom jaw felt odd unnatural but he opened it wide snapping at her neck trying to get back at the hot liquid spilling out.
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#18


The presence of a vampire in the halls wasn’t a new one, especially with the building almost ready to be officially opened to the public. She’d disregarded it, assuming it was Mary or Amira, or even most likely, Luka here to continue his paintings. On a ladder, she was stuffing a shelf up high when the clatter of many a things falling had her pause mid book placement. Blinking, she almost called out a question if things were alright when the sound of screaming echoed towards her full force down the hallways. That was absolutely out of place.

Swiftly putting the hardcover in position, she jumped down to the floor was a smack of shoes to wood before taking off to the source as another scream called out. With that fresh and the echoes of muffled noises alerting her, Catrina quickly made her way down to a darker part of the museum, cursing to herself at the smell of blood thick in the air the closer she got.

A corner, another door, and she was almost there.
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#19
 She was hysterical. He wasn't her first vampire encounter, but he was the first violent one. The first one to violate her and take something that didn't belong to him; something she hadn't chosen to give him. But as he snapped onto her neck again, she slowly felt her own strength wavering. He was eager and the blood loss wasn't doing her any favours.

 It came to a point where she sort of stopped resisting and instead, she more or less caved. Mostly because she felt her energy drain as well, making her world spin at the sudden blood loss. And as she began to slip into a hazy fog, she saw a shimmer of red and orange hues approaching. Her fingers still making a feeble attempt to claw her way out of his hold, before falling to her sides.
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#20
The tension of her fighting faded but he had no knowledge of that his mind driven to one purpose to drink. Drink and drink until he was full. He was so hungry and the blood so sweet. There was no one to tell him to stop to force the monster back.
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#21
Flying through the collection, she stopped but a moment to take in the scene. Bloodlusting. A girl most likely on her death kneel and blood a companion dampening the air for them all. Distaste and a heavy weight of cool anger coursed through Catrina as all this was happening inside her walls. This was her sanctuary, a work in progress nearly achieved, and she would not have a bab destroying it with a body count before its doors could even be opened to the public.

With solid steps, she made to come upon him with speed and jam her elbow hard into the side of his face roughly where the jaw’s hinge was located so as to dislodge him. ”Get off.”



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#22
Engrossed in the feeding he did not hear the approach of the other more powerful vampire and the blow to his face came as a surprise. His jaw unlatched from the neck. The blow was strong enough, coupled with the surprise, to have his claws release their grasp on Poppy. He stumbled back momentarily stunned. But the scent of blood only fueled the monster part and he snarled upset at having his meal taken away.

The woman before him, which part of him knew as Ms Stewart looked angry. And he would have shied away under her gaze if sense had returned. But the smell was too strong, the hunger too deep. There wasn't even enough coherence to form words to express the primal urge. Just a snarl.
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#23
 Poppy was barely even there. It was all jut a fog, really. It didn't hurt anymore and she wasn't particularly scared once she crossed a certain point. The fog was even welcomed, as it spared her the fear and hysteria from only moments before.

 But then something shifted. Barely awake and aware, she registered for a moment the sound of someone else. A voice. In her head it was the voice of an angel, but it didn't keep her from hitting the floor a moment later. Laying on the floor, she stirred and a soft moan escaped her.
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#24
That did it. Luka let go and moved away, the human dropping to the ground unceremoniously. There was a small indication of a voice that announced the girl was still alive, perhaps barely. She’d have to be seen to in a moment when the very real possibility of Luka tearing her apart was out of the equation.

Rubbing at her elbow where it had hit hardest, Catrina took in the snarl with a glower. ”Quite,” was all she could say in response at the unbecoming look. A bloodlusting vampire, especially a new one, wasn’t something she ever liked dealing with.

There were quite a few ways to handle this and she pursed her lips before stepping towards him again, fast, with the intent to grab a wrist, avoiding the claws, and twist it behind his back up high as she moved around.


Success

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#25
She came at him fast, faster then his muddled brain could think to react. His hand was yanked back and pinned the jolt of pain sending a flash of clearity into the blood hazed mind. He gasped at the small pain, and the flood of emotions and thoughts back into his mind. Claws would relax back into hands and his face would morph back into more agreeable features.

There was something wet and stick running down his chin. A taste lingering on his tongue. He felt dazed, euphoric, and a bit tipsy. None of which lasted long with the recollection of where he was and what had just happened. The lady had cut herself on something, awakened his hunger. He could remember vaguely chasing her down the halls with the intent of drinking. He took a shuddering breath and was almost blasted by the smell of Poppy blood all around the area.

"Oh my god."

He whispered voice cracking as the full realization of what he had just done hit him.
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#26
Catrina’s grip was sure as she concentrated, ready to react if he tried to turn this on her. Eventually though, the claws closest slid into the hand in her grasp, a noticeable change that was willed to continue on for however long it was needed for Luka to put the monster back into its box. A breath shuddered out and a human voice had her letting go slowly, stepping away.

”Welcome back.”

The need for coddling would be later when she didn't feel like throwing him out in a fit of anger at the next drop of a word. The girl then. Wiping at her skirt, she walked over to the human girl on the floor, leaning down to feel her pulse. Faint. Using a hand to move her face up, Catrina’s own tightened, gaze going to the throat. There was a very real chance she might die considering the tear bleeding. A body wasn’t a good look.

”Did you manage any suggestions?”

Lifting a wrist up to bite through skin with canines, she grimaced at the sting before pulling away and thick dead blood slowly beaded up. Her gaze would flick over to Luka, waiting for an answer.
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#27
His arm was let go of and it dropped back to his side as he stared in horror at Poppy laying on the floor her throat all but torn. This was a woman he knew, had painted, with a nice smile and a talkative nature. Even if he hadn't known her the fact that he had done this..

"Oh god."

He whispered again. If he was human he probably would have thrown up all the blood, but he couldn't so his body was left with other methods of inducing an panic attack. Hands started shaking and his breath came out in fast gasps. There was no heart to pound furiously or any overwhelming thoughts that he was dying. He was already dead.

Shaking from head to foot he stumbled forward sinking to his knees besided the prone figure.

Stop the bleeding. Had to stop the bleeding.

He all but tore his overshirt off to use it to apply pressure to the wound. Hand still shaking violently. Ms Stewart's words didn't even process through the alarm bells ringing in his head.

And the growing pit in his stomach.

He did this.
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#28
 She was stirring, moaning. Not quite there yet, but slowly she was making her way back to consciousness. Poppy was feeling weird and her breathing was strained. Everything felt.. different and as she moved, it hurt. But whether it was from the fall, the attack or simply in her head - that could be discussed.

 Eyes fluttered open and somehow she knew that she wasn't going to make it. She was about to die. The panic in Luka's eyes as he came into view spoke as much. And she didn't realise it herself, but she was crying again. Her breathing vague as her gaze flickered from Luka to the woman and back again, not quite able to focus.

 "I-i.. d-don't want to die." She managed with a strained whisper, before she felt the darkness tugging at her again. Attempting to drag her back into the void.
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#29
What answered her was a tumbling of Luka’s composure. An utterance of understanding to the situation, but nothing that answered the question.

As he knelt down to press a shirt at the bleeding, an eyelid twitched at the wasted effort, turning attention down to the quickly dying body. Her gaze found the girl’s face, tracking at how eyes welled up and tears pooled and fell through small breaths. There wasn’t some pang of awful emotion tied with what she was seeing. Death by vampire happened, but the circumstances and setting of this one kept her more present in the situation than usual. A body count was unacceptable. No suggestion to be spoken of and no guarantee that the lass would survive even with the blood intake, had Catrina realizing and resigning quickly to the fact she may just have a fledgling on her hands.

The small plea had her setting lips, moving to place the bleeding wrist to a mouth. ”Aye, you won’t. Sip this down.”
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#30
Poppy's plea was like a knife in his heart twisitng. She didn't want to die, just like him, an echo of his plea's to Ms Vashti. But there was no car accident to blame for her death, just him.

His fault.

"пожалуйста, не надо. Не. Не умирай Боже, пожалуйста. Я так виноват. Так жаль."

His own tears slipped down pale cheeks and he continued to ramble in his native tongue, but quietly somewhat unaware of what he was even saying. The shirt was useless even he could feel the blood seeping through it but it was all he could do to help so he kept his hands there holding on and begging. Please don't die.
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#31
 At first she resisted; because she didn't understand. The woman's words and the wrist against her lips, but her attempts were feeble. And before she knew it, her lips parted and she felt the blood on her lips. Her tongue. At this point she didn't even resist it, although too out of it to really understand what was happening. What this would mean. But she drank, as she had been told to do.

 A hand clasped around Luka's wrist meanwhile, hugging it desperately. Nails against his skin. But it didn't last long until the darkness got its hold of her, dragging her back into the void - but deeper this time. In a moment or two, her body would relax and her grip of him loosen. Her hand would drop to her side as she drew a final breath. Dead.
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#32
Words were being mumbled she had no grasp of from Luka, more a background noise at this point. Her attention was primarily on the dying human, always finding it such an odd thing that dead blood could bring life again. When she was satisfied enough had been given, Catrina took back her wrist, wiping the blood and spit away with the heel of the other hand.

Listening for a heartbeat’s last few gasps eventually come to an end, her attention would drift up to the fledgling who had done this. Gripping his wrist that was helping to place the shirt on the tears into a throat, she tried to push it away. ”You’ve done enough for now. Give her space.” If she was truly dead or not would have to wait to be seen, but either way, Luka didn't need to continue the effort.
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#33
Poppy's hand reached up to his, and he jolted at the touch not expecting it. The movment pulled his hands just a little away from her neck and he could feel how sticky they were. He wanted to retch, felt his body heave but all it produced was more tears. Her hand dropped away from his moments after and he could hear the slow beating of her heart getting fainter and fainter.

No. Please no.

Despretly he pressed hands back onto the shirt and the wound. As if he could stop her from dying simply by the action. Of course it didn't and her heart gave one last fluttered beat then stopped.

Dead.

Numbly he felt Ms Stewart push his wrist away from the dead girls neck. There was no fight and he fell backwards into a seated position staring at the body with tears still streaming down his face. He was hyperventalating, breaths coming out fast and shallow but with no need to actually breath it wasn't sending off his brain. Hands came away red just like his lips and chin.
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#34
It worked and now she was left with a dead body that might just have to be dumped into a river if it didn’t come back to life and a too young vampire that needed his sire. She wasn’t a motherly type, but the sight of him was tragic and in this moment Catrina would have to fill in for Amira. These were still the few first weeks in a pool of eternity that he was learning and it was unfortunate that they’d carry death with it.

Standing, Catrina took a step and placed a hand to his shoulder. ”Luka, listen to my voice. Deep breaths.”
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#35
He felt more then saw Ms Stewart move, placing her hand on his shoulder. But compared to the dead body at his feet it didn't make much of a difference. She was saying something, deep breaths. It didn't seem to matter though. Nothing at that moment matter but the dead woman. The woman he had just killed.

He shook as if a strong cold breeze was blasting him. Fingers unable to stay still raised to his face and the tears turned into violent sobs inbetween choked breaths.

"Я не хотел Я не хотел Я так виноват. Так жаль"

The words were a mantra and all he could do was keep repeating them.


Translation: I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. Im so sorry. So sorry

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#36
He was shaking and all she could do was frown as words that meant little to her were said in between sobs. Taking in a breath, she exhaled it slowly, feeling the cool air tingle teeth. There was much to take care of either path this could take.

”She might not be dead. Give it a moment before you carry out a funeral’s weight in grief.”

It was said to explain and to hopefully calm him some as they waited.
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#37
 Everything was dark. Pitch black. Poppy was unaware of her surroundings as the darkness consumed her, all the while the infection spread through her body. For a brief moment she felt hot, feverish, but in the next cold. Her body was fighting the virus which worked to pull her back, drag her out from the cold darkness and back into the light.

 Perhaps she was only gone for a few minutes, but she wouldn't know. This as she suddenly woke up with a gasp and a flash of panic in her eyes, all the while sitting up. Her last memory being of Luka attacking her, sinking his fangs into her frightened body. He had almost ripped her throat open, or.. Had he? Poppy lifted her hand, trembling slightly, and touched her neck. It was sticky, barely even cold yet. Pulling her hand back and looking down at it, she saw blood. Her own blood.

 Poppy felt the panic resurface and she finally acknowledged the strange couple. Dark doe eyes finding their way to Luka, fear making her body tighten. Her first impulse being that she wanted to run. But for the moment sitting absolutely still and confused. Why wasn't she dead? And who was the woman? A picture of her pressing her wrist against her lips flashed by and Poppy trembled. What had they done to her?
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#38
Ms Stewart's words were just a addition to everything swirling around in his head. He had killed her. Killed her. She was dead. He kept mumbling his plea, his mantra still sobbing as the minutes trickled by. With his hands pressed against his face he didn't know that Poppy had awoken until she gasped. The sound cut a line through the words and he froze. Tears making a mess of his face he slowly lowered his hands to see the dead woman, not so dead, sitting up and staring at him with fear.

There was no heartbeat and his quick eratic breaths only brough the smell of death.

After his own change into being a vampire the knowledge of what had happened settled easily enough. He had killed her, almost ripped her throat out, and now she was a vampire just like them.

"Мне жаль. Мне жаль"

He cried to the woman he had killed.


Translation: Im sorry. Im sorry

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#39
As the moments ticked by, she let her hand recede, merely standing watch and being support. Patience was eventually rewarded as a gasp and movement had Catrina looking over. Relief waved through, thankful that there’d be no body to handle in the end.

There was some thinking going on for the lass and as she sat up, took in Luka and her, she arched a brow with a small smile. It didn’t take long for the vampire next to her to have taken notice too, but instead of offering words of welcome, it was a continuation of despair.

Enough of that. Taking a step up, she stooped down some. ”I’m glad to see you awake. You gave us both a fright.”
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#40
 Now why the fuck was he crying? She was the one who ought to be crying. The precious boy from the fair had proven not to be so precious after all. His cries actually angered the femme and although afraid, the anger seeped into her dark eyes.

 Poppy didn't take her eyes off of him until the redhead moved closer. Poppy flinched and leaned away from the woman, letting her gaze linger on her features. They seemed so.. Very clear all of a sudden. "You killed me." She stated, her voice cold and not as friendly as it had been with Luka previously.

 "What did you do to me?" Even as she spoke the words, she somehow knew - and it probably showed. No one would've survived getting their throat ripped open and certainly not without any medical assistance. Yet here she was, feeling a little sore and sticky. But still very much alive.. Or was she really?
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