timeless melancholia

The air was filled with the raucous voices, loud Celtic music and the smell of tasty, fried food and good alcohol. “Hello Alexander,” Gabrielle, someone he had met not too long ago greeted him and spoke fluently, with the slightest hint of a french accent. She was rather attractive for a vampire, with black as-night hair that cascaded down to her shoulders and starkly white skin. She looked as though she had been carved out of marble and her eyes were a deep sapphire blue. “Gabrielle, what brings you here?” He acknowledged her, taking a sip of his drink warming his throat on its way to his gut. “Looking for you. I have someone who might benefit from your particular talents.” 

He chuckled in a raspy bark of a laugh and she responded by smiling darkly back at him, revealing pearly white fangs that would normally send chills rattling down people’s bones. “Well, where is this someone?” As the words left his lips he noticed the shadowy figure standing a few feet away, waiting to be asked to join the table. “He’s been asking around for information regarding some - murder. I figured you might want to hear him out.” She figured? This was not the first time Gabrielle brought him a client and he had the slight suspicion that it wouldn’t be the last. “10%. That is if I’m even interested in taking it.” The annoyance that pours out of her heavy scoff reminded Alexander of his mother and how aggravated he got each time he disobeyed her. “You’re a cheap ass, you know that? Remind me why I keep bothering with you?” Alexander grins, taking yet another sip of his bourbon. “Because it keeps me off your back? Now get him over here before I decide not to bother at all.”

Mikolaj couldn't describe what it felt like to be on the other end of the line when the news of Anne Marie's death was delivered. The hollow silence that stretched itself across the room, swallowing an otherwise average, uneventful evening. Grief was a maddening feeling, a monster snaking through the veins, vengeful and poisonous. From that moment on, all he could think about was finding out who and why. He didn't need to think about what he would do to the culprit once he found them, that he already knew fairly well. 

White Crest was just as he remembered from the last time he had visited her, odd and somewhat ill-fitted, like a mismatched piece in the great puzzle of their world. Anne Marie had made that sound like an upside. She was good at that, finding beauty in terrible things. Her optimism had cost her her very own life, and with it his already fragile peace of mind. Ever since his arrival, Mikolaj had started a relentless pursuit for information, but of course a place like White Crest was full of dead ends, and an astounding lack of solid answers. 

After much frustration, he came across Gabrielle, a beautiful vampiress who promised him she knew just who would be able to solve all his problems. He wasn't so naive that he believed her, but certainly impatient enough to give anything a chance. 

That was how he ended up in some hole in the wall late at night, making his way through a crowd of drunken degenerates to a table at the back. Gabrielle asked him to wait and while he did, Mikolaj glanced around the bar, attempting to disguise his distaste for their surroundings. It was too crowded, loud and lively in there for him, and he was relieved to see the vampiress approaching, his patience already thinning from standing around in unease.

Displeased as he was, Mikolaj took a seat across from the stranger and looked him dead in the eye. He seemed to be perfectly human with a sharp gaze and even sharper features, but you could never really tell in White Crest, specially now that his family seemed to drop like flies. "Alexander Cain," he finally greeted him, stoic and rigid, "I'm told you are the man to see when you need something found." Mikolaj assumed the man knew perfectly well he meant not something, but someone. Removing the leather gloves that cased his touch, he continued, "If that holds any truth, then I have a job for you." At last he stretched out a hand to shake his and said, "I'm Mikolaj Balik."

Sometimes when he closed his eyes he could still hear his father’s voice booming in his ears. The raspy, monotone delivery of each word. Each syllable. Alexander was six years old when he first learned of the existence of vampires and how they were ‘despicable creatures who needed to be expunged from this earth’. Oh, if only he could see his son now. Meeting up with vampires in pubs. His father had a particular distaste for ‘Fangs’. There was a moment there when he had made him proud but even Liam Cain had his limits. Even he knew where to draw the line between hunting and murder. 

Hunting was never meant to be a sport. It wasn’t meant to be fun yet Alexander had developed a taste for it. Nothing personal, he would tell himself and those who ended up on the sharp end of his blade or his stake. And as the years passed he discovered that there were plenty of opportunities out there. That killing left and right may not be the most constructive way to use his talents and so he began doing this. However, taking jobs from vampires was rare and not because of some ridiculous leftover notion but because vampires were usually not lining up to approach him.

Patience was not his virtue yet he had learned to practice it and so he waited for the vampire to join him on the table. Like in a movie, he stepped out of the shadows and he now resembled something from a Caravaggio painting. Hash light, complete shadow, expressive face. At the sound of his name he offered a half smile. “That’s me.” He watched him, trying to get a sense of who he was in spite of what he was. Of course he could not help but notice an air of pomposity as Mikolaj removed his gloves and introduced himself. The hand that was offered to him was remarkably pale, marble like. After a brief pause he finally grabbed it to give it a firm shake and squeeze. “Balik? Polish, I’m assuming?” With a wave of his hand he caught the attention of one of the barmaidens so that she could refill his drink and get his ‘new friend’ a drink of his own. “What are you having?”

Mikolaj watched the stranger as his face stretched into a half smile, noticing something oddly far west about it. There was a roughness to the sharp angles of his expression that made him look both elegant and dated, like a beautiful and yet yellowed black and white photograph. Cain was older than him, at least in appearance, and for a moment he wondered whether there was mockery in the curl of his lips. Either way, the man shook his hand, and that was enough for him then. "You assume correctly." 

Before he could move into their business, Cain flagged down one of the barkeeps. "Stoli Elit," he said as the woman approached, "or any red wine if you don't have it." Since he wasn't there to drink, it didn't much matter in the end, though he did prefer his vodka. Once the drinks were set before them, Mikolaj reached for his glass with some amount of tentative satisfaction. If the place had Stoli, it couldn't be too bad. After taking a sip, he turned his gaze back to Cain. "White Crest is full of red tape. Everywhere I look, there are more non-answers and vagueries. I need someone who can cut corners and get me straight answers. Can you do that?"

Eyes narrowed when Mikolaj ordered his drink and he then proceeded to ask for another bourbon. There was a lot of frustration and sadness written all over the vampire’s face so even before he could get a word out, Alexander already knew that this was personal. Those types of jobs were a little more complicated due to the emotions involved. When someone hired him to capture a selkie so they could skin it or some generic beast to use in a magic ritual there were no feelings attached to the case. No, this was going to be different. 

Once the drinks made it to the table Alexander reached for his glass and brought it to his lips while his ears perked up to listen to Mikolaj’s question. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? I mean, why else would you be sitting here if you didn’t know the answer to that?” Alexander assumed that Mikolaj needed some type of confirmation from his lips in order to feel a little more hopeful. “Yes, I can do that.” 

Curiosity really got the best of him sometimes. Frankly there were things he did and jobs he performed just to do them. Just to see if they were possible or if he could make it out of that situation in one piece. Dancing on that thin life between life and death always filled him with euphoria. Catching a vampire killer seemed a bit tedious in comparison to the many other jobs he has been paid to do but he was still willing to listen. Perhaps curiosity to work itself around him once again. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? Who are we looking for?”

Mikolaj didn't expect the vampiress to take him to someone efficient, and thus he wanted to hear from the man that he was indeed the man he needed. "That is what I've heard," he explained, "not what I know." There was a difference between the two, and Mikolaj certainly didn't believe anything he heard. Even as the man spoke, all he could learn was that Cain offered the kind of service he was looking for. Results weren't promised, it was a gamble, but one he was willing to make. 

Looking down into his glass, he watched the vodka swirl around the rocks with the lightest twist of his wrist, and wondered where to start this at. "Two of my family have been murdered this past year. One right here in White Crest," Mikolaj explained, turning his gaze to the man. "I suspect they were targeted by the same killer. The police investigation has made little to no progress, and I believe it's a matter of time until he or she strikes again." It took him some amount of effort to suppress his anger, controlling his grip on the glass and the tightness in his jaw. 

Swallowing down a generous drink of his Stoli, Mikolaj continued, "I haven't seen the deceased in a while. I need everything they have on her - witnesses, suspects, anything - a thread to pull.”

It was not a story he hadn’t heard before but he paid close attention anyway. Alexander could relate to that anger. The hopelessness one felt when placed between a rock and a hard place. One of the first lessons Alexander had learned was that true effectiveness could only be achieved by whomever was judging how effective something was. While this may have been more philosophical than he would have liked, when it came to practical hunter business it was true: if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself. 

“I have a few contacts so getting that information to you won’t be a problem.” Mikolaj was frustrated by the lack of efforts displayed by the police department so he could not blame him for wanting to take matters into his own hands. However, in order to get his revenge against the one responsible, he needed to be found first.  Alexander’s low, malicious laugh bounced off the walls, and a grin worked its way across the edges of his face. “Are you planning on pulling this thread yourself? I don’t think you came to me just so I could give you a bunch of documents and call it a day, right?” At least he hoped that was not the case. “I can find this - person. Bring them to you alive so you can ask them why they’re targeting you.”

Mikolaj knew it wouldn't be a problem for a man in his... perceivable profession to gather information, and so he was pleased, althout not to surprised, to hear it could be arranged. What came as a surprise was the man's interest in doing the legwork himself, the puzzle piecing and brainstorming. Curious, the vampire watched him through the rim of his glass, taking the pause warranted by another drink to mull over his words. "I like your confidence," Mikolaj finally admitted, setting the half empty glass down onto the counter. "I want you to find them, but I want to see those documents too." His gaze moved away from the man, back to the room, the loud and lively crowd. "I need to," he confessed, well aware of his own sentimentalism. What was there to gain from seeing it all with his very own eyes? Maybe nothing, but it had to be done. Mikolaj couldn't leave anything to chance. He had already risked too much by not following up on Sutton's investigation himself, and Anne Marie paid the price for his neglicence. Not again. 

He turned his green eyes towards Cain and a storm brewed and built in them, full of thunder. "Her name was Anne Marie Belrose. She was found dead in the penthouse apartment above the Belrose Art Gallery on October 24th. That's where I'm staying now." There was a pause, a hint of uncertainty, before he added, "How much do you need to bring me those documents?"

There was definitely anger there, and who could blame him. Alex was an angry person, and he was angry for many reasons since fury was one of the few emotions that he could never completely get rid of. His sadness was consuming, of course, but Alexander’s cockiness masked the worst of this in public, giving him a completely reversed facade. However, as for his anger, there was little that he could do about it. He could not let go of so many things - of his father, of his own failures, of the things he had lost because of his own stubbornness. For him, his only hope was to find outlets - small moments where everything inside of him could be released in bursts of aggression. For years, he had not been able to control these outlets, and therefore he often exploded in unpredictable bursts. In the past he had hurt people in those moments. Now, however, he had better control, and his temper tantrums usually happened in more controlled environments. At least this was what he liked to tell himself. It was good to be distracted which was why he worked all the time.

“You want to be involved, trust me I get it.” Another oddity. Typically someone at the other end of the table would hand him information about something they wanted or needed and he’d let them know where to start wiring the money. Rarely they decided to tag along and it was even more unlikely for Alexander to let them. He’d let them know that they’d be in his way and that if they were going to hire his services then that they needed to butt out and let him work. “Sounds like a team up.”

Mikolaj shared more information and Alex made some mental notes. Anne Marie. Vampire. Murdered above the Belrose Art Gallery. October 24th. “For this type of job I charge by the hour and I ask for a weekly deposit just in case you decide you can’t stomach it.” That same smile remained on his features as he leaned forward, as if he were about to share some secret with the vampire. “I’m curious. What are you planning on doing once we find said this fucker?”

Cain smiled at him with understanding and in return Mikolaj felt a wave of shame course through him. How dare he be this sentimental before a stranger? It brought him some amount of comfort to think the man seemed to think little of the matter, but that never eased his disappointment in himself. Leonid's void was clear in his head, mocking him for clinging onto such human dispositions.

"I will see this through," he promised, though his word meant little to a man who didn't know him, "and I will pay handsomely for it too. Just help me find whoever did this." The question caught him by surprise. Wasn't this the profession of no questions asked? For a moment he fell into a pensive silence. "I don't know,"  Mikolaj found himself answering honestly. "But they will pay for what they did. One way or another."

It wasn’t that Alex worried about the consequences or cared about what happened to the person or thing once it was captured. The question was the result of basic human curiosity and the answer that was given was slightly disappointing. Frankly he was expecting something a lot more graphic, bloodier. At the same time it came to no surprise that the vampire chose to keep the details of his revenge to himself. “How ominous.”

Alexander sat back into his chair, kicking back the rest of the drink and controlling the urge to get another one. Last thing he wanted was to give his new client the impression that he was some type of raging alcoholic and then give him a reason to change his mind. “What makes you think they were killed anyway? Maybe they just decided they didn’t want to return your calls. Is it possible that they are together somewhere in - oh, I don’t know - Croatia or Texas?”

At the comment on how ominous he sounded, Mikolaj offered the man a rare smile. "I don't mean to be." He could sit there and discuss what he would like to do to this terrible stranger, but once he stood in front of the killer and looked them in the eye, what would he do? There was no way of knowing. 

Following Cain's lead, he finished his drink as well, pushing the glass forward, left abandoned on the table. "I wish that were the case." He suppressed a tired sigh from escaping his lips, but that didn't keep the tiredness from creeping up to his eyes. "I have their ashes. Don't worry, I did have them tested to make sure they were theirs." That was hardly good news. "Found by friends when they didn't make it to their appointments. They both had rather social lives."

“Well, that’s a bit morbid.” He confessed with a wave of his hand. “I like it.” Alex was not going to question him any further , he simply wanted to make sure that the murders actually happened and that they were not going to be chasing ghosts. Although the idea of leading this vampire on, suck as much money as he could out of his bank account and then feed him lies was pretty tempting, the look of desperation in Mikolaj’s eyes made him reconsider. And people called him heartless?

“Guess we can focus on Anne Marie for now since she’s local. You said there were two? I can take a weekend off and check out that other one to see if there’s anything unusual.” Alex reached for his wallet, pulling a few bills out and placing them on the table. “I need to see where she died. I also need a list of her closest friends, places she liked to visit, things like that. It’s possible that this killer watched her from some time before he killed her. Maybe even befriended her.” Once he got a hold of the police report he would know if there was any sign of forced entry and a sign of struggle. “When was the last time you talked to her?”

Mikolaj arched a brow at the man's sense of humor, finding it odd, though not entirely unpleasant, that he appreciated the so-called morbid situation. "Joseph Sutton," he offered in a beat, followed by a soft shake of his head. "He was an all over the place kind of character... It didn't surprise me when the news of his death came. I should've taken a closer look into it." There were many actions he would have taken now if given the chance. Perhaps that one would have spared Anne Marie's life. 

"Come to the gallery tomorrow at sunset," he instructed, giving Cain's glass a nudge. "You are too far gone tonight to be of any use. I will give you everything I have on them then, and you can see where she was found too." His green eyes seemed to glaze over at his last memory of the vampiress. "Two weeks before her death, but our phone calls were never too detailed. I do have some of her letters from last year too." Frowning, he added, "I don't believe she would have befriended her killer... She was too smart for that."

Alex listened to Mikolaj describe the situation with the other victim. A vampire named Joseph Sutton who apparently wasn’t one for subtlety. “Oh don’t be hard on yourself. Vampires get dusted all the time. I should know.” He was not going to get into specifics but he had been responsible for a few vampire deaths in his life. “You know, there is the possibility that this might all be a coincidence. You say Joseph was pretty out there so he could have attracted a slayer. And Anne Marie? Well … she just happened to move to a town crawling with hunters.” However, Mikolaj seemed to be convinced that these weren’t two random attacks. Perhaps some type of supernatural gut feeling.

The following comment made Alexander’s lips curl into a grin. “Are you insinuating that I’m drunk?” He bursted out laughing, finding the suggestion incredibly humorous. “You’re a funny one, Mik. Can I call you Mik?” Mr. Balik sounded too formal. “Listen, Mik. I happen to be a professional drunk. Trust me, I am far more pleasant and effective this way. It’s like … fuel.” Mikolaj answered the question regarding their last communication and Alex made a mental note of it. “Well, they wouldn’t have worn a big red sign that said, vampire killer, now would they?”

It wasn't as if Mikolaj were under the impression the man had never wronged someone else, but to be flat out told (or at least implied) that he had dusted a few vampires on his own was rather disconcerting, to say the least. A crease appeared between his brows on an otherwise marble expression, etched in with distaste. His disregard for innocent bystanders allowed him to tolerate unsavory actions such as the casualties of war, but to speak so openly of them required a certain appreciation for violence that Mikolaj had never truly shared.

Brushing off his discomfort, the vampire offered a soft nod. "I'm not ruling out coincidence. I am aware that three makes a pattern, Mr. Cain, but I want to avoid that third dead body. I have lost too much already, I have nothing to spare."

Mikolaj slipped back into his leather gloves while his company burst into laughter. "In any case, I would prefer that you kept your 'fuel' to a minimum." He settled his gaze upon the man once more, taking in his features once again, marked by time in a way that hadn't touched his skin in over a century now. "Vampires don't come with signs either, and yet you can tell what we are." He smiled. "Sometimes." There was a pause, a moment of quiet deliberation, through which he made up his mind about Cain: he would trust him, at least for now, with this. "Come see me tomorrow at the Belrose Gallery."

The response coming from the vampire upon learning that Alex had been responsible for vampires getting dusted was expected. A creased frown, disgusted look. Where there was softness there was now distaste. And yet this had not been enough to make Mikolaj change his mind, which meant that he was desperate enough to trust him and therefore was not going to be backing down any time soon.

“Of course you’re not. I’m sure you’ve contacted the rest of your … family members to let them know that they might be in danger. A list of enemies you’ve managed to make over the years would also be very helpful. Try to include old acquaintances and pissed off ex lovers.”

Alexander watched the vampire as he reached for his gloves, preparing to leave him to his vices. “Whatever you say, boss.” There was some sarcasm behind his voice but there was some truth to his words. After all, Mikolaj was holding the contract and paying him to do a job. “I’ll meet you tomorrow all good and sober.” Before the vampire walked away he decided to clarify something. “You’re in good hands Mik.”

Mikolaj wondered what kind of clients the man most often took on for him to suggest that former lovers would be behind such a vile act, but he managed to keep his thoughts to himself. "I will be extremely thorough," he assured Cain despite having no intention to expose his personal history to him. He was already one step away when the clarification reached his ears and with little more than a sullen look, Mikolaj turned away from the man.