hard-boiled babe.

“Does he not ask about the punctures?” Humans were messy creatures sometimes, Vlad himself had been running from some calling themselves vampire hunters. Despite knowing very little about this new fledgling (that still hadn’t even agreed to go with him) he worried that her arrangement might not be as safe as she made it sound. “Have you hypnotized him into helping you or made him a servant with your blood?” He hadn’t even considered the idea that the man on the other end was actually very willing to hide her bodies. Even with the information she provided, Vlad liked to be extra careful.

“It is impressive to have a plan though, I assure you I’m not disappointed.” His method of destroying the bodies was different and quite usual, unlike hers. However, he had the space for it and the shelter of a giant mansion to mask the fact that they were actually burning bodies and not just keeping warm. Still, if this place was in town rather than on the very outskirts, it may be safer for her to continue her method. He reaches into his coat and grabs a handwritten visiting card. It was the one he received from his current protector, Charles Xavier. “When you are done disposing of the body, I implore you to meet me here. It’s quite a trip, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

She tried not to let the wave of confusion that rolled through become visible on her face. Hypnotize? Make a servant? These were things that Poppy was unsure she was capable of, but found instantly tantalizing. Could he teach her? “No,” she said, her face and tone steady. “I didn’t see the need to. Often times a man’s own desires are enough to make him do devilish things, no questions asked.”

When he hands her the card, she accepts it with careful, blood-stained fingers. When her eyes scan the neat script, she finds an address along with a name she recognizes. “I know this man,” she blurts out. He’d approached her at the tavern. Spoke to her so forwardly, like he’d known who she was past the alias and dollish visage. He seemed like a nice enough gentleman, who’d taken a keen interest in her abilities and appeared to possess a few of his own. What was he doing fraternizing with this strange man in the alley? Between what was written in the P.I.’s journal and having spoken to Charles, Poppy would have thought the mystery would be the least bit unraveled by now, but the threads only seemed to tangle further. Her gaze darts back to the dead man on the cobblestone and then back up at the other vampire. 

Clasping his hands together, he bowed slightly before her and offered a half-hearted apology, “I am truly sorry for interrupting your meal, forgive me.” The fire behind her explanation and the twinkle in her eye was stunning. Sometimes, other vampires were trying to be kind or trying to eat animals. They looked at humans differently, but he only saw them as sustenance or potential servants. The fact that she would gladly take the life of such people was a good thing in his mind. It was all part of the food chain.

When he looked up at her again, his wicked smile was back. This time, he made it a point to ask his question more clearly, “Though I absolutely adore your desires and reasoning for eating, I meant the body. What do you plan on doing with it?” He was slightly concerned about this fact because leaving bodies with distinct bites had gotten him in trouble before. “In the past, I would have been fine with leaving the beast crumpled there like the trash he is, however, that is no longer the case. I’ve just found sanctuary here and I don’t intend to lose it.”

For a moment she contemplated telling him the truth, but paused and pursed her lips, thinking of the boyish mortician. He’d been good to her. Good, of course, in the sense that he hadn’t revealed her secret, which she supposed was as good as she’d get when the business at hand was murder. Their arrangement was symbiotic, both benefiting from the exchange, just as both would be in ruin should one decide to go to the authorities. Regardless, Poppy liked to think they’d worked up something like trust in the past year. Giving his personal details to the strange man she met in a darkened alley would surely spoil that. And that would be a shame. Poppy didn’t not trust many. 

She still had a difficult time judging this man’s intentions, but the longer she remained in his presence the more she began to calm. His curiosity seemed genuine. And he’d yet to lunge for her throat. “I know a man,” she said, smoothing out the wrinkles in the taffeta of her dress, “with a keen interest in the science of human anatomy. I provide him test subjects and he provides me with confidentiality. We have an arrangement.” 

When speaking of Vlad as the Ruler of Walachia, no one ever said he was kind or humble. Perhaps he was underestimating her, yet all he wanted was for her to join him. It was silly that he was using scare tactics and lies to try and bring her to his side, but he never did anything without being grandiose. So easily, his mood changed. Only moments ago he was ready to battle her, and now he was growing bored of her refusals. He had been impressed by her vigor and strength. Even her bravery and ability to get her hands on him was magnificent, yet his back was turned toward her because of his growing disinterest in his own game.

Vlad left her standing in the middle of the alleyway, his attention was now turned on the bloody mess she had left slumped against the wall. Delightfully, he called back to her after she spoke, “Are we enemies, little one? We do not have to be. I am curious… if I had not interfered, what would you have done…” He motioned to the heap as he stood again and brushed off his suit, “… with this?”

Poppy’s lip twitched. She had been trying to get a read on him the entire time, and when she thought she’d finally figured him out he did something to surprise her. If he did not want to fight, then what was his goal? And now his questioning about the corpse... she wasn’t sure whether to give him a straight answer. Her eyes went the crumbled body of the dead rapist, his blood pooling darkly beneath him. What a waste.

“I had already done what I wanted,” she said matter-of-factly. “He was a cretin who deserved his fate. And you,” Poppy directed her gaze at him, “only interfered with my dinner, but no matter. Men like him are in endless supply.” A special kind of wickedness glinted in her dark eyes as she said this, and it was evident she took great pleasure in these killings. Her doll face at deep contrast with this look of evil. A necessary evil, as far as she was concerned. These murders were just and rightful retribution, and she believed wholeheartedly in her avocation.

The fight in her did not dwindle and it only made him respect her more. Most, even his own kind, would back away understanding or fearing his power. Stumbling back slightly, he begins to circle around her to continue observing her reactions to him. Despite knowing she was clearly ready for an attack, he had a massive grin on his face unable to hide his delight in the situation.

“Can you not see that I am your savior? You have much to learn, little one!” He knew she wanted a different answer, something more akin to a name. That was something he wasn’t willing to give, not even to the man that offered him sanctuary. As he spoke, fog seeped into the alley like a sentient being. Once it reached them he disappeared from his original position and his voice rang out as if he was surrounding her, “Or… would you rather fight me?” A moment later, he was whispering in her ear, “Do you believe that you can win?”

Despite the fear that started to roll through her, she gave a bitter laugh at his statement. “My savior?” She echoed incredulously. “I am my own savior.” Before she could gauge his response to this, a deep fog creeped into the alley, twisting and curling around her frame like a snake until it engulfed her completely. When it dispersed, the man was nowhere in sight. Then his voice rang out, sounding like it was coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. She fought down a shiver. For the first time, Poppy wished she was equipped with more than her sharp teeth.

Kate had never seen anything like this in her life. She stares at the board, trying to make sense of the literal nonsense being taught to her. It was almost useless to write down all these notes, but she felt compelled to after their phones were confiscated. Not that she was on that thing often, she enjoyed the camera feature but the rest of it… Confused her. Huffing, she puts her forehead in her hand not frantically scribbling notes down that she’d never understand. Her eyes find the clock above the board and though there’s only minutes left in class she feels like she’s enduring an unbearable amount of torture. She didn’t mind school, she loved learning, but she hated feeling stupid. If her father were here he’d chastise her for thinking such things about herself, he always made sure to uplift her no matter what. 

After class she doesn’t think, wanting to leave as soon as possible and grabbing the first red case she sees. It’s not until it’s dinging to life halfway to the dining area that she realizes she doesn’t recognize the sound. Stopping, Kate leans against the wall before the dining room to look at the messages she’s receiving on a stranger’s phone. The top ones are… provocative. Definitely not meant for her, especially since they’re someone who is calling themselves ‘Daddy’. She cringes at that before swiping until she finds one that had to be for her. Slowly, but eventually, she hacks out a response. Sure, I’m at the dining hall. I’ll be at the second table. She wasn’t worried about the stranger having her phone, it’s not like she had any information on it that she’d be worried about getting out. She’d only used it to contact Alex here and there. 

Sitting down, she decides to wait to get her food until she has her phone back. Instead she lets herself get nosy, peeking through the other’s pictures. Her eyebrows nearly leave her face at what she finds, and she quickly presses the phone to her chest to hide it from anyone walking behind her. She smiles awkwardly at the guy passing behind her before she peeks down again. The girl was wearing next to nothing, and Kate suddenly recognizes her. They only sat a seat apart after all, and she’d definitely caught Kate’s eye. Quickly, she closes her phone and sets it face down on the table.

Poppy hustled to the dinning hall the moment she got the text. She had no doubt the girl was snooping through her phone, just as she’d done with hers. And while the other blonde didn’t seem to keep much of importance on her phone, Poppy did. Embarrassment was not an emotion the vampiress wore well so she tended to disregard it in favor of contempt and pride, of which suited her like diamonds and pearls, but she had to admit there were some things on her phone she’d prefer a stranger not to see. She didn’t care about her nudes; Poppy was far too much of an exhibitionist to find that anything other than exciting. It was more so the hefty file of blackmail material comprising of unsolicited dick pics and screenshots of long deleted texts and Tweets that she was concerned about. The girl might think her a sociopath. Or a future politician. Poppy decides to go with the latter. 

When she makes it to the dinning hall, her eyes jump to the second table and land on the back of a blonde head. She winds her way through tray-carrying mutants and teachers with almost comically large mugs of coffee, reaching the blonde in seconds. “Hi,” she says to get her attention. And when she looks up, Poppy can’t help but think the selfies had not done her justice. Of course she’d noticed her in class before this, but had always been too absorbed with her text exchanges with Jean to ever pay much attention. She was definitely the kind of girl Poppy would happily pursue at a dorm party, though she’d never seen her at any of those. In fact she knew next to nothing about her, which was an odd thing for the vampiress who liked having her lacquered finger on the pulse of all things gossip and drama. 

“Thanks, you know, for keeping it safe,” says Poppy, slidding out one of the chairs and plopping into it. “I can name five guys in our class who would’ve only given it back in exchange for, like, a blowjob or something. Which is so uncreative.” A smile lifts up the corners of red lips, and though it’s genuine, pearly white fangs manage to give it a perpetual flare of deviance. 

“Here...” She digs through her purse, plucking out the other girl’s phone and laying it on the table. She snatches up her own phone and does a quick scan of the messages and photos, to make sure everything was still there. Catching but a glimpse of the provocative nonsense her sugar daddy sent her was enough to elicit an eye-roll, but it did seem their date to Tiffany’s was a go. After setting a long overdue passcode to her phone, she shoves it back into her purse, deciding to deal with him later. She was more than a little eager to find out what the other girl had seen, and whether it should be cause for concern. Well, that wasn’t the whole truth. Poppy thought she was hot. And the thought of this hot girl potentially seeing any of her sexy selfies was tantalizing enough to have her stick around, at least long enough to find out if they had turned her on. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do with her afternoon. Jean was off fraternizing with one of the Summers boys, surely; Poppy couldn’t remember which. They seemed to be doubling so fast the vampiress was certain Jean must be making them in a lab or something. Josh was... she wasn’t exactly sure where Josh was. Sleeping, probably, or pining after Wolverine’s daughter who looked just as mean as she did.  

She reaches a manicured hand in the shoebox and hastily pulls out her phone, chucking it into her purse as she moves into the hall. She doesn’t go very far, leaning against the wall to reapply her lipstick. Students mill about before her, chatting about what they were going to do this weekend. This reminds her of her own tentative weekend plans, and she grabs her phone to check for messages from her sugar daddy, who had promised a trip to Tiffany’s if she was “good.” Yeah, she’d been good alright. As far as he was concerned, anyways. Sometimes Poppy was astounded by her own acting skills. It took her less than two seconds to realize the phone was not hers. Fuck. She scrolls through the pictures in attempt to find out who it belonged to. There were quite a few photos, and she recognized the girl in some of the selfies, the pretty blonde who'd started to attend her calculus period some weeks ago. Poppy wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or not. The most she could say about this girl is that she had excellent taste in phone cases. 

She wasted no time punching in her number and composing a text: I’ve got your phone. let’s meet?

It took one look from her and he knew exactly what would happen next. Doing his best to look frightened on the outside, his mind was racing with anticipation and glee. When they fought, he felt so much more satisfaction putting them in their place. It doesn’t surprise him when his back hits the cold stone, but instead of screaming or shouting, he’s laughing. He was done playing the victim now and a wicked grin has spread across his face. Sounding deranged, he replies, “Oh, but I could have been a man of my word.”

Grabbing her wrists, he begins walking forward and forcing her back toward the center of the alley. “Aren’t we supposed to give people a chance?”  he stops walking and when he leans closer to her face, his pointed fangs are easy to spot. “Fortunately for you, I am in a good mood tonight.”

His laughter certainly caught her off-guard, but the fangs nearly have her reeling in shock. She’d never met another soul with the same “affliction” as she, if one could even call it that. Her brow furrowed deep as she took it all in, though her own fangs remained bared. This wasn’t something she’d come across before. She’d always thought herself to be the most evil thing to prowl these streets, but perhaps... Well, perhaps she’d been wrong.

With the hands that still clutched his lapels, she shoved him away from her. He was strong though, perhaps stronger than she, and he didn’t slam back against the wall as any mortal man would. They remained but a foot apart. She could still see the glint of his fangs in the moonlight, flashing like a unsheathed blade. Her body tensed, ready for a fight. These tight corsets and constricting dresses were a curse, she thought bitterly, realizing she’d have to rely entirely on her wit, and more importantly, her teeth. “Who are you?” demanded Poppy, not certain if he would even give her an honest answer.

Watching was a pleasure, but he stayed back giving her enough space to eat freely. It was quite a sight he would not be forgetting any time soon. The bloodthirsty look in her eyes when she finally laid eyes on him only made his smile grow wider. She thought he was a snack as well, she’d be sorely mistaken if she tried anything. However, that was his favorite part about meeting new vampires and the beautiful ones were even more fun.

“Oh, but I do. You see, I live just over there behind you.” he pointed, but didn’t expect she would buy his lies. He could persuade her, but he chose not to finding it more exciting to see how she would act. He almost anticipated an attack, he was hungry for it. Dracula wanted to put her in her place, then come to know her motivations for this particular attack. Was she merely hungry and he was unlucky? Did she hunt this man down for weeks with some kind of vendetta? His eyes grew brighter and brighter the more his imagination went wild.

Instead of taking a step closer, he takes one back and allows his face to fall, “Will you… will you let me pass? I won’t tell a soul.”

Her head cocks to the side as she regards him. It was difficult to tell if he was being genuine or not, and her yearning for blood had all but clouded her ability to be rational. Somewhere deep inside of her she knew she should let him pass. Surely even if he spun tales about some monstrous vampire woman he encountered in an alley people would only think him mad. The word murder had yet to be thrown around in relation to her crimes; for now the locals only spoke of missing men. She’d been careful with her past murders, always delivering the corpses to a mortician in town after the two of them had worked out an arrangement in which neither asked the other questions. She did her business and he did his. He might, she thought devilishly, even be delighted to receive two bodies at once. Though if she was being honest with herself, she knew this was just a pitiful excuse to get another pound of flesh between her fangs. 

Without warning, she grabs the man by the coat lapels and rams him up against the damp alley wall. “You see,” she says between gritted teeth, “I’ve come to learn that a man seldom keeps his word.” 

“Yeah? Well, let’s see how stupid you find it when my pointy teeth are ripping out your throat.”