“Sure, easy.” Not for the first time, Illyana wondered at the motivation behind Doom’s assignments. Was he sitting at a throne somewhere, laughing? Was it for the meme? If so, she might actually respect him a little more than she did before he’d sent off the letters. Marginally. Because she was still watching MJ tuck holy water into her jacket pocket and wondering at the sanity of sending someone into vampire-infested corridors with a stake and a flask of questionably blessed water.
Didn’t it have something to do with belief, anyway? “Are you even religious?”
The question fell out before she could stop it, but she’d never been known for impulse control. “Whatever, might not even matter. Just…stay close, stab anything that screeches,” depending on if they were 30 Days of Night vampires, or Twilight vampires, “And try not to get eate–”
A yell from inside cut her off, and Illyana found herself caught somewhere between excitement and genuine concern. Normally she’d take any excuse to swing her sword around, cast a few spells. This felt a little like a chore. “Eaten. You ready?”
💾 — “No, but...” It wasn’t that she wasn’t confident in her but. The gears were merely turning, clicking and clacking in her mind. “As long as they are, right?” Illyana had a point, but with their limited understanding, it was just as safe to assume than it was to suspect.
She nodded. It is not just instructions, it was advice. “Don’t screech,” she joked, that dry humor coming out once more. A fair warning, too. As if cued, horror bellowed from the institute. MJ’s heart began to race, her grip around the stake tight. It took careful concentration for her to not tremble.
“As ready as I’m going to get.” Power behind the words, determination in her eyes, she spared a glance to her partner and strode forward. This place, this task, it had nothing to do with her — hell, she hadn’t a clue what she was doing. But people were getting hurt. So, she approached the front entrance, not letting anything hold her back.
The door flung open, a vampire waiting for them on the other side... but with her stake at the ready, held at shoulder level, it just took MJ a swing forward to stick it into their chest. Terror took her face and she struggled to inhale. A choked gasp.