Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > You Call Yourselves Hunters
Part 2
We First See The Unravelling
"And where the fuck am I supposed to go."
"I don't care, you missed your pay one too many times."
"I'll get it you I swear."
"No, you have been warned."
"Come on man, I have no where to go."
"Oh my heart bleeds."
"Just one more- "
The door had slammed shut though. Patrick slammed his fist against it in defiance. "Bastard." He mutter under his breath. Scooping up his bag and walking out of the block of flats. Stained and cold. Patrick felt the icy cold weather. It was one he felt too often. Living a life that went from one "home" to another. He was used to it but he couldn't help feeling rejected again. A drifter. It was if he had homeless tattooed to his skull. He grimaced as memories of his past filtered through his head. Bitter and orphaned. Patrick had no one he could turn to. Thrown from shelter to shelter. Unlucky to the end. Patrick sighed to himself. Looking up into the sky as if asking for help. Why me? He thought to himself. Wondering how life could get much worse for him. Stupid thought. A rumble within the night sky echoed out into the city streets. The clouds burst open and a vicious shower of water poured onto Patrick.
"Oh for fuck sake!" He cried pulling his bag over his shoulder and looking for anywhere that could keep him dry. It was late and the only place that he could find was the church. It's entrance door slightly open. He rushed over the road and into the marble building. Shaking of the droplets that were beginning to soak his clothes. Patrick shut the door against the fierce wind. Shivering from the new found warmth that creeped over the cold.
"Hello?" he said into the empty church. Hoping that there would be some kind of priest. Maybe food. Or a hot drink. "Is anybody here?"
Nothing. The breeze rushed through the church and whistled in a tune. That was the only sound that cascaded within the empty building. Patrick placed his bag down and walked around. He was never a fan of churches. They reminded him of when he was a child. They reminded him of the funerals. They reminded him of the day his world came tumbling down. He walked around. His footsteps sounding around. In tune with his heartbeat. Patrick couldn't help but notice that the vestry door was open. He frowned out of confusion. Stepping over to it he saw that not only was the door open. It was destroyed to only fragments that hung of the frame. "What the hell?" he whispered to himself. He felt a slight stab of fear but his curiosity had a hold of him. He entered the broken down vestry. There was evidence to a struggle. Papers, candles and chalices had been thrown to the floor. The window was slightly open and the net curtain flowed into the atmosphere. Patrick's eyes had found a stain. The back of the wall. Blood. That had made a path down unto the ground. Patrick wanted to run but he needed to know. He leaned over the desk that was obscuring his view and found it. A mutilated corpse. The chest flung open and the heart missing. The eyes still open and wide.
"Oh my g-" but before he could carry on his sentence a hand wrapped itself around his mouth. Pulling him back. He was forced into a hiding place. Behind the chair opposite the desk. All he could hear was a hushing sound. One as the hand was slowly removed from his face. Patrick spun around and his eyes met two others. Blue. He was face to face with a girl. She looked about 20. She had red hair that flowed on her pale skin. It contrasted so perfectly. She was wearing a corset. With black trousers. She was wearing a long coat. He could see that she had been crying. A tear residue was left on both cheeks. She had her fingers placed to her lips. He was staring at her. Waiting for some kind of explanation.
"Who are you?" he spoke, his voice loud though.
"Will you keep quiet?" she whispered back to him. "If we are heard then I can't imagine what will happen to you."
"What do you mean?" He said though he was quieter now.
"Just be quiet."
She sat there. The hidden place cramped but she knew that it was safe. In the background Patrick could hear the sound of doors opening. Steps and before he knew it a man had entered the vestry. His eyes red. Hair long to his shoulders. The stranger had walked over to the body. Laughing to himself.
"Andy." The girl said to herself. Patrick looked confused at her but she shook her head.
The man had picked up the priest. Dragging the corpse out of the vestry and out of the church. The two hidden waited before the girl pushed Patrick out of where they were. She followed and stood up. Staring at where the corpse had been lay.
"Who are you?" She asked. "Why are you here?"
"I, I , what happened here?"
"I cannot explain to you."
"But-"
She did not answer his question. She turned around to him and grabbed his hand. "It is not safe for you here. Come with me."
He looked at her for a second. Her face seemed so familiar. As if they had met before. "Do I know you?" he asked.
"I doubt it." She pulled him out of the church. "Why were you at the church?"
They were pacing quiet fast. She still had hold of his hand. Pressured too much, it almost hurt him but he did not object.
"I had nowhere else to go." He answered. And the conversation stopped there. She was dragging him through the graveyard. Taking him around corners in the darkened night. He was filled with many questions. He kept asking but there was no response. She was anonymous to him. Her coat and hair flying behind her. He was studying her until they walked down a long alleyway. Stepping down some stairs until they came to a doorway. One that wouldn't have been seen by day to day people. It seemed so secret. She placed a key in the door and pulled Patrick in. Slamming it shut and locking it.
"JOE" She screamed. Switching on the lights. It did not help light much. Only dimmed light filtered through the strange place. Patrick placed his hand to his head. He was so bewildered. All that had happened seemed like such a blur to him. Only moments ago he was being thrown out of his apartment. And now he was with a strange girl in a strange place.
"JOE WHERE ARE YOU?!" The girl repeated with obvious rage.
"Calm down! I'm here." A door swung open and from it a tall man with dark brown hair made his appearance.
"Where were you?"
"I was here like I was told."
The girl and Joe looked at each other for a second. She turned her back to him. Patrick could tell that fresh had formed along her eyes. Spilling down her face again in remorse.
"Joe, he's dead."
"What?"
"Nathan, he's dead."
Joe sat down on a nearby chair out of shock. "No he can't be."
The girl nodded slightly. Biting her lip to stop her from crying again. She breathed in and wanted to forget about the death. As if it was a casual occurrence she let no time for Joe to grieve.
"I'm sorry Joe"
Yet Joe was still silent. His eyes wide.
"We have to carry on Joe."
"But, he."
"We can't stop now."
"I know." Joe sighed and looked down. Swallowing his pain within a aching heartbeat.
"I found him" She said and pointed to Patrick. Who forgot that he was there. Patrick felt as if he was watching a movie. A film. A setting but now he had been re-introduced. He stood back slightly.
"Who is it?"
"He was at the church."
"Did he? Is he?"
"No, look at him Joe he is not a vampire."
Joe stood up and walked over to Patrick. Looking at him. They were about the same age but Joe seemed to have a maturity greater than Patrick. Patrick seemed like a child.
"Why were you at the church?"
"I didn't have anywhere to go." Feeling he had explained himself before.
"Who are you?"
"My names Patrick."
"Helena, why did you bring him?"
Joe had turned around to the girl. Patrick breathed in her name. Remembering it. Helena for once stood there. Not knowing what to say. She stuttered slightly.
"I, I don't know." She whispered. "But I couldn't leave him there."
Joe sighed at her. "Well I suppose we need all the help we can get."
"Would some like to explain to me what the fuck is going on?" Patrick interrupted. The two of them looked at him. He was breathing in heavily. "Who the fuck are you? What the fuck is going on?" he screamed again.
Helena offered a seat to him but Patrick remained stood. Defiantly. Instead she took a seat.
"When you were a child how many stories of vampires did you know?"
"Vampires?"
"Hmm, the creatures of the night. Sworn a life of blood. Cursed hearts."
Patrick laughed nervously. "I don't believe -"
"They are very much real." Helena interrupted.
"Ha ha ha what kind of joke is this?"
"This is no joke." Joe said. His voice calm.
"I'm sorry but....what?"
"That body you saw, he was killed by a vampire. That person you saw. He was the one that killed him. Vampires exist. Remember your nightmares from your childhood. Remember all you were afraid of." Helena said. She held out a hand to Patrick. "And welcome to the underworld."
Patrick stared at the hand. He didn't know what to say, what to do. It was going so quickly for him. He wanted to get out. Run but something was keeping his feet firmly to the floor. Could it be her? Could it be fear? He had nowhere else to go and it seemed these two people were offering. Opening their arms to him. He took the hand and shook it slightly. Puzzled still though. Patrick had no idea what he was letting himself in for. Helena and Patrick smiled at each other though. As their hands shook.
"Who are you?"
"We are hunters" replied Joe, though Helena turned away at the very question.
"Hunters?"
"Yep," Joe nodded. Helena still did not face either of them. "Only the best."
"Hunters as in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" type stuff?"
Helena smiled at Patrick. "I suppose you could say something like that. Though the hideous programme is far from fact."
"What do you mean by that?"
Joe slapped Patrick on the back in a friendly manner. "Oh I think you'll find that out soon enough. That's if you want to I mean."
"What?"
"What we're saying is, well we need all the help we can get. We could teach you everything we know."
"And you could join us." Helena finished.
Patrick stood there. There was silence between the three of them. Patrick pondered and eventually he grinned. "I'd like that."
There was a mutual sense between all of them. Only it was rudely stopped by the sound of a knock on the door. Baffled, Joe walked over. Looking through the peep hole to find that no one was there. He opened the door and there was a package before him. He picked it up. Slamming the door shut. He opened it and took out a blood smeared chain. A crucifix hanging at the end. Joe removed a paper. Written in the blood it said. Let the war commence. Joe and Helena stared at it. Patrick watched them both. He could have sworn Helena's eyes had turned the deepest red. She spoke softly.
"He's back."
*
Ciao Bella
We First See The Unravelling
"And where the fuck am I supposed to go."
"I don't care, you missed your pay one too many times."
"I'll get it you I swear."
"No, you have been warned."
"Come on man, I have no where to go."
"Oh my heart bleeds."
"Just one more- "
The door had slammed shut though. Patrick slammed his fist against it in defiance. "Bastard." He mutter under his breath. Scooping up his bag and walking out of the block of flats. Stained and cold. Patrick felt the icy cold weather. It was one he felt too often. Living a life that went from one "home" to another. He was used to it but he couldn't help feeling rejected again. A drifter. It was if he had homeless tattooed to his skull. He grimaced as memories of his past filtered through his head. Bitter and orphaned. Patrick had no one he could turn to. Thrown from shelter to shelter. Unlucky to the end. Patrick sighed to himself. Looking up into the sky as if asking for help. Why me? He thought to himself. Wondering how life could get much worse for him. Stupid thought. A rumble within the night sky echoed out into the city streets. The clouds burst open and a vicious shower of water poured onto Patrick.
"Oh for fuck sake!" He cried pulling his bag over his shoulder and looking for anywhere that could keep him dry. It was late and the only place that he could find was the church. It's entrance door slightly open. He rushed over the road and into the marble building. Shaking of the droplets that were beginning to soak his clothes. Patrick shut the door against the fierce wind. Shivering from the new found warmth that creeped over the cold.
"Hello?" he said into the empty church. Hoping that there would be some kind of priest. Maybe food. Or a hot drink. "Is anybody here?"
Nothing. The breeze rushed through the church and whistled in a tune. That was the only sound that cascaded within the empty building. Patrick placed his bag down and walked around. He was never a fan of churches. They reminded him of when he was a child. They reminded him of the funerals. They reminded him of the day his world came tumbling down. He walked around. His footsteps sounding around. In tune with his heartbeat. Patrick couldn't help but notice that the vestry door was open. He frowned out of confusion. Stepping over to it he saw that not only was the door open. It was destroyed to only fragments that hung of the frame. "What the hell?" he whispered to himself. He felt a slight stab of fear but his curiosity had a hold of him. He entered the broken down vestry. There was evidence to a struggle. Papers, candles and chalices had been thrown to the floor. The window was slightly open and the net curtain flowed into the atmosphere. Patrick's eyes had found a stain. The back of the wall. Blood. That had made a path down unto the ground. Patrick wanted to run but he needed to know. He leaned over the desk that was obscuring his view and found it. A mutilated corpse. The chest flung open and the heart missing. The eyes still open and wide.
"Oh my g-" but before he could carry on his sentence a hand wrapped itself around his mouth. Pulling him back. He was forced into a hiding place. Behind the chair opposite the desk. All he could hear was a hushing sound. One as the hand was slowly removed from his face. Patrick spun around and his eyes met two others. Blue. He was face to face with a girl. She looked about 20. She had red hair that flowed on her pale skin. It contrasted so perfectly. She was wearing a corset. With black trousers. She was wearing a long coat. He could see that she had been crying. A tear residue was left on both cheeks. She had her fingers placed to her lips. He was staring at her. Waiting for some kind of explanation.
"Who are you?" he spoke, his voice loud though.
"Will you keep quiet?" she whispered back to him. "If we are heard then I can't imagine what will happen to you."
"What do you mean?" He said though he was quieter now.
"Just be quiet."
She sat there. The hidden place cramped but she knew that it was safe. In the background Patrick could hear the sound of doors opening. Steps and before he knew it a man had entered the vestry. His eyes red. Hair long to his shoulders. The stranger had walked over to the body. Laughing to himself.
"Andy." The girl said to herself. Patrick looked confused at her but she shook her head.
The man had picked up the priest. Dragging the corpse out of the vestry and out of the church. The two hidden waited before the girl pushed Patrick out of where they were. She followed and stood up. Staring at where the corpse had been lay.
"Who are you?" She asked. "Why are you here?"
"I, I , what happened here?"
"I cannot explain to you."
"But-"
She did not answer his question. She turned around to him and grabbed his hand. "It is not safe for you here. Come with me."
He looked at her for a second. Her face seemed so familiar. As if they had met before. "Do I know you?" he asked.
"I doubt it." She pulled him out of the church. "Why were you at the church?"
They were pacing quiet fast. She still had hold of his hand. Pressured too much, it almost hurt him but he did not object.
"I had nowhere else to go." He answered. And the conversation stopped there. She was dragging him through the graveyard. Taking him around corners in the darkened night. He was filled with many questions. He kept asking but there was no response. She was anonymous to him. Her coat and hair flying behind her. He was studying her until they walked down a long alleyway. Stepping down some stairs until they came to a doorway. One that wouldn't have been seen by day to day people. It seemed so secret. She placed a key in the door and pulled Patrick in. Slamming it shut and locking it.
"JOE" She screamed. Switching on the lights. It did not help light much. Only dimmed light filtered through the strange place. Patrick placed his hand to his head. He was so bewildered. All that had happened seemed like such a blur to him. Only moments ago he was being thrown out of his apartment. And now he was with a strange girl in a strange place.
"JOE WHERE ARE YOU?!" The girl repeated with obvious rage.
"Calm down! I'm here." A door swung open and from it a tall man with dark brown hair made his appearance.
"Where were you?"
"I was here like I was told."
The girl and Joe looked at each other for a second. She turned her back to him. Patrick could tell that fresh had formed along her eyes. Spilling down her face again in remorse.
"Joe, he's dead."
"What?"
"Nathan, he's dead."
Joe sat down on a nearby chair out of shock. "No he can't be."
The girl nodded slightly. Biting her lip to stop her from crying again. She breathed in and wanted to forget about the death. As if it was a casual occurrence she let no time for Joe to grieve.
"I'm sorry Joe"
Yet Joe was still silent. His eyes wide.
"We have to carry on Joe."
"But, he."
"We can't stop now."
"I know." Joe sighed and looked down. Swallowing his pain within a aching heartbeat.
"I found him" She said and pointed to Patrick. Who forgot that he was there. Patrick felt as if he was watching a movie. A film. A setting but now he had been re-introduced. He stood back slightly.
"Who is it?"
"He was at the church."
"Did he? Is he?"
"No, look at him Joe he is not a vampire."
Joe stood up and walked over to Patrick. Looking at him. They were about the same age but Joe seemed to have a maturity greater than Patrick. Patrick seemed like a child.
"Why were you at the church?"
"I didn't have anywhere to go." Feeling he had explained himself before.
"Who are you?"
"My names Patrick."
"Helena, why did you bring him?"
Joe had turned around to the girl. Patrick breathed in her name. Remembering it. Helena for once stood there. Not knowing what to say. She stuttered slightly.
"I, I don't know." She whispered. "But I couldn't leave him there."
Joe sighed at her. "Well I suppose we need all the help we can get."
"Would some like to explain to me what the fuck is going on?" Patrick interrupted. The two of them looked at him. He was breathing in heavily. "Who the fuck are you? What the fuck is going on?" he screamed again.
Helena offered a seat to him but Patrick remained stood. Defiantly. Instead she took a seat.
"When you were a child how many stories of vampires did you know?"
"Vampires?"
"Hmm, the creatures of the night. Sworn a life of blood. Cursed hearts."
Patrick laughed nervously. "I don't believe -"
"They are very much real." Helena interrupted.
"Ha ha ha what kind of joke is this?"
"This is no joke." Joe said. His voice calm.
"I'm sorry but....what?"
"That body you saw, he was killed by a vampire. That person you saw. He was the one that killed him. Vampires exist. Remember your nightmares from your childhood. Remember all you were afraid of." Helena said. She held out a hand to Patrick. "And welcome to the underworld."
Patrick stared at the hand. He didn't know what to say, what to do. It was going so quickly for him. He wanted to get out. Run but something was keeping his feet firmly to the floor. Could it be her? Could it be fear? He had nowhere else to go and it seemed these two people were offering. Opening their arms to him. He took the hand and shook it slightly. Puzzled still though. Patrick had no idea what he was letting himself in for. Helena and Patrick smiled at each other though. As their hands shook.
"Who are you?"
"We are hunters" replied Joe, though Helena turned away at the very question.
"Hunters?"
"Yep," Joe nodded. Helena still did not face either of them. "Only the best."
"Hunters as in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" type stuff?"
Helena smiled at Patrick. "I suppose you could say something like that. Though the hideous programme is far from fact."
"What do you mean by that?"
Joe slapped Patrick on the back in a friendly manner. "Oh I think you'll find that out soon enough. That's if you want to I mean."
"What?"
"What we're saying is, well we need all the help we can get. We could teach you everything we know."
"And you could join us." Helena finished.
Patrick stood there. There was silence between the three of them. Patrick pondered and eventually he grinned. "I'd like that."
There was a mutual sense between all of them. Only it was rudely stopped by the sound of a knock on the door. Baffled, Joe walked over. Looking through the peep hole to find that no one was there. He opened the door and there was a package before him. He picked it up. Slamming the door shut. He opened it and took out a blood smeared chain. A crucifix hanging at the end. Joe removed a paper. Written in the blood it said. Let the war commence. Joe and Helena stared at it. Patrick watched them both. He could have sworn Helena's eyes had turned the deepest red. She spoke softly.
"He's back."
*
Ciao Bella
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