Young Writers Society

"Ve're going to get you some clothes zat don't look like you crawled off of ze battlefield," he replied, rising and closing his sketchbook. "After zat..." he shrugged. "I need to get out of ze area before any of Boomslang's men come looking for me--it von't be a stretch to figure out zat it vas me who took out Taipan--but I haven't vorked out vhere to go yet."

He put the sketchbook back in his suitcase and zipped it up. Soon, they'd have to be heading out, hopefully before cops started swarming around Tai's body.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, joining his brother over by the suitcase. It had been awhile since he had bought new clothes - he had grown used to wearing his uniform.

He lifted the case and headed towards the door without reply; what was there to say? He led the way outside to the black motorcycle that sat in the alleyway beside the abandoned building. It wasn't long before the suitcase was strapped to the back of it and Kratzer turned back to Edward.

"Ve'll need to come up vis some solid lie for vhy you look like zat, and vhat our relation is," he said, leaning against the bike.

"We could be long lost brothers," Edward replied. It was a somewhat serious suggestion, but was also supposed to hopefully make his brother smile a little as he tried to come up with another explanation. "And we can....we can say that I do historical reenactments, and that I was robbed of all of my belongings. Since we have different tastes in clothing, I had to get clothes of my own."

He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "Ja, alright, I'll do my best to kill the accent." The fact was, Kratzer was hardly incapable of speaking English near flawlessly, he just didn't usually put the effort into maintaining the proper accent while using it. Learning an American accent had been a lot harder than other ones--mostly because of the new 'th' and 'w' sounds--but it was a necessary lesson for someone who liked to go places unnoticed.

He swung a leg over the bike and gestured for Edward to get on behind him, slipping the keys in as his metal steed roared to life beneath him.

Edward slipped on behind him, secretly thrilled at getting a chance to ride on a motorcycle. No one he knew had one - not even Rekune and Blanx were in possession of one. Throwing his arms around his brother, he sent a quick glance back in the direction of their makeshift hotel as they drove away.


It had been a long time since he had gone shopping like this. Edward couldn't really remember the last time - it might have been even before he died. It was easier buying things online these days, and he often had to hide behind the bandages and trench coat in South Haven.

He did get some strange looks as he got off of the motorcycle with Kratzer, but few asked. The ones that did question his appearance were quickly greeted with the lie that he had concocted.

They visited a handful of clothing stores, but it was harder finding an outfit he liked than expected. He usually went with fandom-related shirts he got off of Amazon, but there wasn't stuff like that. He finally settled with a good outfit and went to go get changed into it in the bathroom of the store before they left, but he found himself getting blocked off when he opened the door afterwards.

There was a man (boy?) standing there. He didn't look familiar, and, in fact, looked somewhat intimidating. He was wearing a suit - classy but ominous. He towered over him. He had a pocket watch, which seemed almost cliche in how evil it was.

And the piece of cake was the evil grin on his face.

A vaguely familiar evil grin that he couldn't quite place.

"Are you supposed to be an Instagram model?" the stranger said. He bristled at the dig, but also felt a pang of worry when he realized he was the focus of his attention. "I'm sorry - I just can't take you seriously when you're wearing that outfit."

He looked the stranger over.

"Well, I can't take you seriously when you're wearing that outfit," Edward shot back.

The stranger grinned even more, leaning over ever so slightly and easily grabbing onto his hood. "Touche, Edward. Touche."

He froze.

How did he-

Before he could even begin to comprehend what had just happened, he found himself being dragged away from the bathroom door and through the aisles of clothing. Whoever the stranger was, he was smart - he was dragging him through aisles outside of Kratzer's view, and it was only when they were at the entrance that he could finally catch a glimpse of his brother.

Edward opened his mouth to speak-

-only to be cut off by the stranger.

"Goodbye," he announced rather loudly with a wave, only to dart off with Edward (and the bag that contained his uniform) down the street a moment later, his hand switching from Edward's hood to his wrist.

Kratzer considered himself well-prepared for most situations. He had to be, considering his profession and the history that put him with odds with two of the three most powerful factions of his world. Yet, even he couldn't have anticipated the abduction of his brother--after all, how did people even touch a ghost? And better yet, what the Hell did they want with someone who shouldn't have made any enemies on this Earth? Was it someone who had a grudge with him and had merely gathered that they were allies?

All he truly perceived was a flash of gray movement and a muffled noise, a noise that was, unmistakably, Edwards. Regardless of how many questions or answers he had, that was what mattered, and without so much as a moment's hesitation, the vampire gave chase.

He sprinted onto the sidewalk, catching sight of a tall figure hauling Edward down the road ahead of him. A gun came out of the assassin's belt from under his shirt and he flicked the safety off with his thumb. "STOP RIGHT ZERE!" he roared, pulling the slide back in preparation of taking his shot.

When Kratzer pulled out the gun, Edward's abductor (why did he seem so familiar?) turned back and gave Edward a look of disbelief. For a moment, it looked like he thought of voicing the reason for the look, but seemed to think better of it. He turned his attention back to the road ahead of them. And though Edward didn't like being kidnapped by an intimidating stranger, he did have to admit said stranger was smart - he turned onto a crowded, packed street, weaving in and out of the crowd as he continued to drag Edward along.

Not only did it prevent his brother from taking the shot - it prevented him from easily following them, though Edward knew that his kidnapper was severely underestimating Kratzer's abilities.

His captor brought him into an abandoned store building, leading him through a deserted, dirty first floor to the second. There didn't seem to be any reason for the choice; the stranger was looking around the entire time, which suggested he wasn't sure where to go.

His captor suddenly let him go.

"I have questions," Edward said.

"Great," the former captor said. "I do, too. But we can talk later - something tells me your friend with the gun isn't going to leave us alone."

Edward crossed his arms, placing the bag down on the floor. "You don't get to that-"

The man thrust his finger against Edward's lips, stopping just before it could go through. "Shh," he said.

Edward balled his hand into a fist, slipped it inside his sleeve, and promptly swatted the finger away. "You shh," he said. He couldn't quite explain why he did, but he took a step forward and put his own finger - stopping before he could go through - up against the man's lips. It was dangerous, considering this guy had kidnapped him, but it felt right. "I thought you wanted us to be quiet."

"You're the one talking like an idiot!" the man hissed, grabbing onto Edward's sleeve and pushing it down. "No, better yet - you're being an idiot in general. I saved you, and this is the thanks I get? Jerk."

He blinked.

"Claire?" he managed to get out.

Verdammt! There was no way he could take a shot in a crowd like this, and if he continued on the ground he'd most certainly lose sight of them despite the impressive height of Edward's captor. That left him one of two options: first, try to anticipate where he'd go and try to cut him off or, secondly, get up above them and traverse the rooftops in pursuit. The first was less physically dangerous and challenging, but the second was more likely to be successful. If he could pull it off. Besides, people rarely looked up; whoever this stranger was, they might think Kratzer had lost them.

The man swerved into an alley and put his gun between his teeth as he leapt up to grab the metal of an apartment balcony. His heart pounded in his ears and he felt his senses hone in in a way that wasn't from adrenaline. Everything became keener, faster, clearer: the senses of a vampire, and one on the hunt.

It wasn't long before he was hauling himself onto the roof and was on his way again, sprinting full-tilt in the direction of his brother. His gaze searched the crowd even as sirens began to sound in the distance. There he was--the formal man with Edward in tow.

His gun dropped into his fingers and back into his belt as he ran. It was moments like these that he was grateful for his Fell nature. Being able to track while simultaneously coordinating his movements to manage to get from building to building was a feat that few humans could manage. He certainly hadn't been able to, before he'd changed.

Kratzer slowed as they approached an abandoned store and the man dragged Edward in after him. They seemed to believe they'd lost him. Good; he could get the jump on them.

The vampire quietly clambered to the ground, sneaking towards a dilapidated window and listening. There were voices, but by the time he got close enough to make them out, they went silent. Ever so slowly he pulled the gun back out of his belt and loaded it--with silver bullets, just in case--and withdrew one of his knives with his offhand.

3...
A heartbeat, thudding within, not too far from the wall. That must be the captor; Edward had no such heart.

2...
He crept closer, every second stretching into eternity as he braced himself for the leap that would propel him through the window and into the soon-to-be-chaos.

1.
Kratzer lunged, throwing himself through what was left of the window and hitting the ground with a vulpine grace, raising his handgun and pointing it squarely at the head of his brother's captor.

"You have two seconds to release him before I shoot," he growl, revealing those unnaturally long fangs in a feral snarl that complemented the wild look in his now-metallic eyes.

The first second passed.

"Guns don't scare me-" Claire started to say. Edward frantically tried to jerk his arm free, but Claire didn't seem to notice. If she did, she didn't care - she ignored his attempts to break free and instead pulled him close.

"Don't shoot!" Edward shouted, cutting her off.

The second second passed.

Everything seemed to happen at once.

The man who had kidnapped his brother started to talk back; Edward made a futile effort to jerk free, only to be seized with a tighter grip and yanked closer, making Kratzer's shot that much harder; the vampire's finger tightening on the trigger--

Edward's yell drowned out by the bang!

He wasn't sure what happened first. All he knew is that his finger was already moving by the time his brother screamed at him to stop and that it was too late as he dropped the gun, and a moment later, the sharp scent of blood hung in the air as a bullet pierced his leg.

Demon blood.

She gave out a pained scream as the bullet entered her leg, and Edward had to hurry to keep her steady as said leg suddenly gave out. It was difficult when his hands couldn't touch her, but he kept them balled up inside of his sleeves so she didn't go through.

"Now you're being the idiot," Edward said, scanning the room for a wall Claire could sit against. "'Guns don't scare me' - what were you thinking?"

"...I wasn't," Claire grumpily admitted. She winced as Edward leaned her up against a wall; the whimper that followed as he slowly eased her off of her feet made a chill run up his spine. Even if it wasn't Claire's voice making that noise, it was disturbing to know who it was coming from. Claire never cried out in pain, even if she stubbed her toe.

"You were being an even bigger idiot. Don't shoot? What did you think that was going to do? He's holding a gun. Of course he's going to shoot. He's probably going to shoot now, once he picks it up again." She groaned, resting her head against the wall. "I hope I get Blanx as a reaper."

"You're not dying," Edward promised. "It's just a leg wound. Get shot in the chest and then we'll talk."

"He has a gun, Edward," Claire slowly said. "Guns shoot people. I might just have a bullet in my leg, but I'm going to get other ones. That's how guns work with homicidal, kidnapping maniacs. We've both been to enough crime scenes to know that."

He stared.

"...What are you talking about?"

"He kidnapped you, didn't he?" she asked. He furrowed his brows in confusion and shook his head. "What? Then why are you with him? I don't need this guy's weird senses to now that he's dangerous."

"He's my brother," Edward said.

"You're an only child," Claire shot back.

He groaned. "Not actual brother - honorary brother. Remember? Schadel and I went out to a bar and ran into some old friends? He's one of them."

She peeked around Edward.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say he's the Nazi vampire assassin," she said.

Claire.

Claire, who was presumably a ghost, and was also Edward's friend. Possessing a demon. And he'd just shot her, along with the demon she was possessing.

Scheisse.

He grabbed his gun and returned it to his belt, the knife still dangling from his fingers. "I'm not a Nazi," he all but growled, though even as he did so he approached and knelt beside him. Her. "Also, I vas a medic, so if you'll let me I can patch you up. Zen you can start explaining vhat ze Hölle is going on here."

"...Thanks," Claire said, holding her foot up ever so slightly before letting the injured leg drop back to the floor. She whimpered again as the wooden floor and said leg collided - Edward was further surprised when she suddenly grabbed onto his arm and gave it a tight squeeze. "But I can't help you with the last part - I have no idea where here even is."

"We're in Kratzer's world," Edward explained. He started to pry his arm free, but stopped and instead slid his arm up so she was holding the bundled up sleeve instead.

"That's helpful," she said.

"It looks like we both got here by possessing people," he continued, ignoring her comment. He shifted a little closer to her. "Can you get out of him? I can be your anchor."

Claire closed her eyes and rested her head back against the wall.

"I think," she said.

A moment passed.

And then suddenly Claire was standing beside him instead of laying before him, crouching and staring at the body she had been in. She absentmindedly fiddled with a small thing she had withdrawn from her pocket. When he realized that it was one of the hair clips, he wasted no time in getting it from her grasp and slipping it into her dark hair.

"No wonder you shot me," she said to Kratzer. "He looks like a stereotypical villain."

All Cornyx Blackthorne wanted was a normal life. A decent one, a respectable one, but, most of all, a good one where there weren't any more run-ins with cops and he could have a roof over his head and food on the table.

A lot of strange things had happened to him and around him in the past--black-outs, waking up to screams; dreams of the sweet taste of blood; the feeling of cold that crept over him when he let his anger, or maybe his fear, take over; the ice that spread as he held Evelyn in his arms for the last time. He'd wanted all that to be over. He'd thought it was. Wasn't the silvery watch in his pocket to remind him of that?

Tick.

The last thing he remembered was sitting down underneath the lush green oak tree that grew at the edge of campus, the crows gathering around him in the hopes of the crumbs Cornyx always promised.

Tock.

Now he stared into the cold blue gaze of a scarred figure with a predatory look in his icy eyes and an unidentifiable thing about him that made everything in Cornyx feel threatened, afraid. Like he should fight or run or pray for some miracle that would save him. There were other people, too: a man who simply seemed wrong and a young woman who had her flesh so disfigured by burns it was almost unbelievable that she was alive.

And he had no idea how he'd gotten here.

Tick, tock.

His breath formed mist in the air. Was it early, or late? Somehow colder than it should've been? He couldn't tell beyond seeing the condensation in the air. Perceiving more over his pounding heartbeat and the screaming visceral instinct that was frozen in time was impossible.

Ticktockticktocktick--

Something clicked.

He leapt to his feet with an agility he rarely possessed, agony lancing up his right leg and causing him to see red. The harshly accented voice of the man in front of him yelled out something that rang distantly in his ears, something telling him to stop, but the silent beast within that protected Cornyx had already taken over in the name of survival.

He surged forward and the world spun around him in flashes of gray and white and blue. Something grabbed him by the shoulder and he felt himself being slammed back into the wall only to be pinned there by a weight on his chest as the blue-eyed man seized him.

"Try something stupid and I vill shoot you," he snarled, something supernatural glinting in his eyes as he pushed Cornyx back to the ground. "Sit, and stay." This was a demon--and one that wasn't normal, if the sudden drop in temperature was anything to judge by. The momentary silver glint in the young man's eyes, the frigid air; these weren't typical characteristics of a demon. And to be so afraid..what was this? A changeling? If so, why?

"P-p-please, d-d-d-don't kill me," he stammered, trembling in Kratzer's iron grip.

"I von't, not unless you make me," he retorted, releasing him and ripping a strip of cloth from his shirt before passing it to Cornyx. "Press it on the vound," he said, the accent thinning out as he put genuine effort into being easily understandable for the trembling demon-boy. He rose, turning to Edward and Claire. So, there were two ghosts now, both from a different world, and now there was a demon who might not even know he was a demon shot and seemingly abducted by Engel himself.

This day just got better and better.

"So. Vhat do we plan on doing with zis new development?"