After some minutes, Deucalion sat up in the car stretching a little as he couldn’t believe what had happened. “A vampire helping a human to get away from other vampires?” he thought to himself. “Surely it was not as it seemed; they must have decided to plant the bait so that they could hunt their prey… but then why leave him in a car” he contemplated. Knowing he could not return for his prized car; he drove back towards his home which was located at an isolated part of town.
Dawn arrived, he parked the car in the garage and got out wasting no time entering his home. It was not immense or extravagant, but it is what Deucalion called home. He opened the door; various bottles of liquor were scattered around his living room as well as some tools such as hammers and wrenches. He made his way to his room located near the rear of his home, inside was a single bed, a desk, bookshelf and a wardrobe. Approaching the shelf, he traced his fingers until he stopped at a book called “Death of the Alaeric house”. He pulled it and all sorts of mechanical sounds went off as the bookshelf split revealing a lift. Deucalion stepped into and was taken a far way below ground level. The lift came to a stop with a loud clunk as the doors opened revealing a humongous crypt, statues of Deucalion’s forefathers were on display although wearing away and not in the cleanest of conditions. He walked among them feeling a little tense as he only now really remembered some of the finer details of last night.
Brushing it off, Deucalion took out a large key which he took from his room and opened a door, the room was dark and somewhat small. Display cases filled the room, full of weapons and equipment, each case had been engraved with a name from Deucalion’s house from his immediate family to more distant relatives. He pondered on what to take “Mace? Too bloody, Longsword? Unwieldy, Spear? Where the fuck am I going to hide that” he kept searching until he came across a case which was a bit cleaner than others, inside was a short blade, the engraving said “Martha Alaeric”. Deucalion stared at the case almost apologetically, he said in a low tone “Sorry mum, I couldn’t protect him” a tear ran down his eye as he stood for a few moments before unlocking the case and taking the short blade. Even after years it still retained its sharpness, forged with silver and other supernatural killing alloys. He tucked the blade into his jacket sleeve, securing it before leaving the crypt.
Upon leaving the crypt, Deucalion received a phone call “Hey Deucalion, it’s me Jonathan, I haven’t heard from you a while, come down by the bar, drinks on me”. Deucalion changed from his last night’s attire into something more casual, a white shirt with some joggers and trainers. He hopped into the car and drove to the bar, parking the car a few streets away.
@🌑🥀Little Blue🥀🌑