"Shit. Are those fangs?" The dark-haired man takes a step back, his eyes widening. His back hits the wall and he stares at the figure approaching him. The other person's body is mostly concealed by shadow, Alfonso and a thin area of the floorboards illuminated by the moonlight pooling on the floor from a window high overhead, curtains long-since torn away. The entire old mansion creaks and groans as wind howls against the ancient, rotting walls. "This- This isn't funny, you know-"
@thetf2mercenaries
//Gonna use Isaiah, hope you don’t mind
“I don’t see anybody laughing, so you’re right, it’s not funny.” Replied a low, growling voice from the approaching figure. Looking down at the pool of moonlight directly in front of him, he paused and raised his luminescent yellow eyes to narrow at the intruder standing just out of reach. As long as he stayed out of that light, the change wouldn’t fully hit him and this poor bastard would live to see another day. Normally, one dead trespasser was on the light end of the damage he could cause on a full moon and he really wouldn’t care to stop himself. However, he really wasn’t in the mood for the agony the transformation brought with it.
Instead, he’d settle for seeing if he could scare this guy off before he resorted to tearing him to bits.
“What the hell are you doing in here, huh? Don’t you have any fucking manners?”
“It was a symbol.” He said, voice sharp and correcting. “A reminder that, although you might be powerful, there are others stronger than you. You’re incredibly ungainly and inexperienced- that’s to be expected, don’t feel bad! Resisting glamour is very difficult without intense practice.”
Meanwhile, Alfonso picked up one of the books. He skimmed it, making a face as he read. “Oh, my God. This is just… Disgusting. Like, ripping out the hearts of infants and that kind of…” He shuddered. “We ought to burn all of this.”
Before anything could be done, the volume jerked violently in his hands, and he yelped, dropping it in his surprise.
The book rose lazily, drifting off to hover above the pit, a pulsating reddish-purple glow starting to gather around its pages. It flipped open by itself, to roughly the middle two pages, where it displayed two words:
“GOOD LUCK.”
“As an officer of the law,” René began, very slow, his tone laced with steadfast iron, his eyes rigidly focused on the book, “I think Alfonso and this werewolf should leave the room.”
The minute the book moved, Isaiah’s ears flattened back and a growl sounded from his throat. He crossed the room and grabbed Alfonso’s arm, drawing him back away from the hovering tome, a protective gesture that surprised even himself.
Every sense he possessed was going haywire, his instincts screaming at him to leave and he knew that the vampire was right, but if they left what would happen to these two? It wasn’t like him to care, but it also wasn’t like him to leave anyone behind when he could help it.
One thing was certain though, this kid, Alfonso, should get the hell out of here, with or without them.
Isaiah turned to the wizard and nodded towards the door. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but if the officer’s judgement is as good as it seems to be, he’s probably right.”
