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VelvetWhispers
Planetoid
- Joined
- Aug 24, 2024
- Location
- Paris
Morwenna crouched beside the crumpled body of Erika Mondschein, her black heels sinking into the sticky asphalt. The alley reeked of blood and failure—two things she had a special distaste for, though she had to admit they usually made for an interesting evening. Erika's lifeless form was sprawled like some tragic art piece, pale and beautiful, except for the fact that her head was no longer attached to her body. Lovely touch.
"Well, this is a disaster," she muttered, flicking her fingers toward the scene. "And not the fun kind."
The young werewolf assistant—what was their name again?—stood a few feet away, looking like a nervous intern at their first day on the job. Dressed in a crisp suit that was too tight around their bulging biceps, they stared at the body like they might pass out any second. Muscular and professional, sure, but a little shy, bless them.
"Relax," Morwenna said with a smirk, "this is just a vampire. It's not like she's going to... oh wait." She snapped her fingers. "Never mind."
The werewolf blinked, clearly unsure how to respond, but Morwenna waved them off. The kid was probably still processing the fact that they were standing next to a beheaded vampire, two days after an entire task force had been wiped out in an explosion. And to make matters worse, Ivor, the Icelandic vampire she'd heard whispers about, was late. Typical.
She straightened up, brushing the non-existent dust from her sleek, tailored jacket. Two centuries of existence, and here she was, babysitting corpses while waiting for some vampire with delusions of grandeur to show up and play detective.
"Where is he?" she asked, more to herself than anyone. "I swear, if he's on 'vampire time,' I'm going to scream."
The werewolf cleared their throat, nervously glancing between Morwenna and the corpse. "Um, Morwenna? Should we... call someone? The Elders or—"
"Oh, please. The Elders?" She laughed, rolling her eyes. "What are they going to do, send a strongly worded letter? No, dear, this is our mess to clean up. And besides, I'm sure Ivor will grace us with his presence soon enough."
Leaning against the brick wall, Morwenna stared down at Erika's body. Erika had been one of the old ones, a vampire with power and connections, and now she was nothing more than a glorified puddle. Whoever did this wanted to make a point, and the point was sharp.
Still, something didn't sit right. Erika Mondschein had always been careful, always one step ahead. For her to end up like this... someone had been watching.
Morwenna twirled a strand of hair around her finger, considering the implications. "You know," she mused, "I bet Erika had enemies in every direction. Probably should have been more choosy with her friends. Now, let's hope her Sire is more cooperative when we visit. Because if he's anything like his spawn, this is going to be one long, unpleasant evening."
The werewolf looked like they were about to ask something, but Morwenna held up a hand. "No more questions until Ivor gets here. I'm not repeating myself. Besides," she smirked, eyes glinting mischievously, "I'd hate for him to miss the grand opening act."
They waited in silence, with Morwenna half-wondering if she should cast a summoning spell to drag Ivor to the crime scene. But no, that would be rude. Instead, she sighed and leaned back against the wall, eyes lazily scanning the dark sky.
"Take your time, Ivor. It's not like we have a killer to catch or anything," she muttered. "Honestly, can't find good help these days."
"Well, this is a disaster," she muttered, flicking her fingers toward the scene. "And not the fun kind."
The young werewolf assistant—what was their name again?—stood a few feet away, looking like a nervous intern at their first day on the job. Dressed in a crisp suit that was too tight around their bulging biceps, they stared at the body like they might pass out any second. Muscular and professional, sure, but a little shy, bless them.
"Relax," Morwenna said with a smirk, "this is just a vampire. It's not like she's going to... oh wait." She snapped her fingers. "Never mind."
The werewolf blinked, clearly unsure how to respond, but Morwenna waved them off. The kid was probably still processing the fact that they were standing next to a beheaded vampire, two days after an entire task force had been wiped out in an explosion. And to make matters worse, Ivor, the Icelandic vampire she'd heard whispers about, was late. Typical.
She straightened up, brushing the non-existent dust from her sleek, tailored jacket. Two centuries of existence, and here she was, babysitting corpses while waiting for some vampire with delusions of grandeur to show up and play detective.
"Where is he?" she asked, more to herself than anyone. "I swear, if he's on 'vampire time,' I'm going to scream."
The werewolf cleared their throat, nervously glancing between Morwenna and the corpse. "Um, Morwenna? Should we... call someone? The Elders or—"
"Oh, please. The Elders?" She laughed, rolling her eyes. "What are they going to do, send a strongly worded letter? No, dear, this is our mess to clean up. And besides, I'm sure Ivor will grace us with his presence soon enough."
Leaning against the brick wall, Morwenna stared down at Erika's body. Erika had been one of the old ones, a vampire with power and connections, and now she was nothing more than a glorified puddle. Whoever did this wanted to make a point, and the point was sharp.
Still, something didn't sit right. Erika Mondschein had always been careful, always one step ahead. For her to end up like this... someone had been watching.
Morwenna twirled a strand of hair around her finger, considering the implications. "You know," she mused, "I bet Erika had enemies in every direction. Probably should have been more choosy with her friends. Now, let's hope her Sire is more cooperative when we visit. Because if he's anything like his spawn, this is going to be one long, unpleasant evening."
The werewolf looked like they were about to ask something, but Morwenna held up a hand. "No more questions until Ivor gets here. I'm not repeating myself. Besides," she smirked, eyes glinting mischievously, "I'd hate for him to miss the grand opening act."
They waited in silence, with Morwenna half-wondering if she should cast a summoning spell to drag Ivor to the crime scene. But no, that would be rude. Instead, she sighed and leaned back against the wall, eyes lazily scanning the dark sky.
"Take your time, Ivor. It's not like we have a killer to catch or anything," she muttered. "Honestly, can't find good help these days."