Tugging at my Undead Heartstrings II - The Belle, it tolls for thee

Chapter 5 – Stakeout

A/N: This chapter contains a few risqué moments, but nothing descriptive enough to warrant a sex tag

The Wet Mutt bar was even more dingy than the dive Octavia had just left, something that despite her continued interactions with the underbelly of society never failed to impress her. The old saying was certainly true in this case: that no matter how bad things were, they could always get worse. The Wet Mutt didn’t seem to feel the need to advertise its presence; certainly no signs proclaimed its location to the outside world. Octavia was only sure that they were even in the right spot from the very faded sign of a mug of ale in one of the grimy windows, and the rather large and supposedly imposing earth pony bouncer standing out front.

Still, the stench of stale beer, pony sweat, bile, vomit, and what could only dried blood lingered in the air, making it more than clear that this was the place they were looking for. This was the kind of bar you only came to if you had a death wish, or if you didn’t care if the number of limbs you exited with didn’t match the number you had when you went it, if you even left at all.

Rather than just go in and scope the place out from the inside, Octavia had called for caution on this one. Nopony went inside without a reason, and simply wanting a drink wasn’t going to cut it here. Instead, she had set up camp inside an abandoned apartment building with a semi boarded up window overlooking the street. From there, she could keep an eye on the coming and going of the bar with ease. The bouncer didn’t seem to consider looking up as part of his job description, and he just occasionally swept his gaze around the street, then went right back to looking bored.

Over the last few hours, she had watched a number of ponies enter and leave the bar, though the number leaving was far fewer than those going in. One or two ponies were thrown out, one with a knife hilt protruding from between his shoulders. The body was flung down into the dank alley next to the bar and business resumed as if it had never stopped; petty murder was just a normal part of the day here.

Beside Octavia, Vinyl was resting on her back, idly levitating a stone above her head. She was bored out of her skull at the lack of activity. They hadn’t done anything since they had arrived. All Octavia had done was settle in and she hadn’t looked away from the window once. Sighing to herself, she hurled the stone away into one of the far reaches of the room. Multiple squeaking noises followed as rats rushed about in a frenzy to see if the stone was edible.

Octavia barely even registered the noise, glancing at Vinyl for a brief moment before turning back to watch the entrance to the bar.

“If you aren’t going to help me, then at least sit there quietly,” she muttered to Vinyl. Despite her quite voice, she knew that the other mare would hear her. Vinyl always seemed to be able to hear her.

“I can’t help it, Octy. I’m bored. This stakeout business is SO boring. Why can’t we just go and storm the place or something instead of just sitting here.”

After her moment of brilliance in dealing with Shady, Vinyl was right back on form for annoying Octavia. Suppressing another sigh, she turned to look directly at Vinyl. “I told you not to call me Octy, and I don’t care if you are bored. This is how we gather information. If you are really that bored for something to do, go and get us something to drink.” Octavia’s water canteen had run dry an hour ago and she was starting to feel thirsty.

“Will do, boss.” Vinyl replied with a grin. She grabbed the canteen and nearly galloped to the door, clearly eager for something to do that didn’t involve just sitting around.

‘That will keep her occupied for a few moments,’ Octavia thought as she returned to staring out the window. Vinyl was right though. Storming the place would likely be the fastest way to provoke a reaction from those inside the bar. Werewolves were stupid; part of the transformation into being a werewolf was a radical increase in aggression, even when they were in pony form. A pair of ponies starting a fight would almost certainly cause at least one of them to shift into were mode. And once one shifted, the others would follow. It was part of their pack mentality.

But before they could do that, Octavia needed conclusive proof that something sinister was going on, and she didn’t have that just yet. All she had was the word of an informant she didn’t trust, and a gut feeling that there was more going on here than met the eye.

Something happened down the end of the street, causing the bouncer pony out the front of the bar to turn and look. Octavia couldn’t quite make it out from her vantage point; she had selected this spot because it gave a clear view of the bar, though not much else. Whatever it was clearly had the bouncer on edge; he didn’t resume his original placid state, but kept staring down the alley way. A shadow came into view, making its way up towards the bar. Clearly a pony, and one that had the bouncer interested, though not necessarily in a good way, judging by the scowl on his face.

The shadow kept getting closer, and Octavia saw a white hoof glide into view, followed by a shock of blue hair. Instantly, a hoof pressed against Octavia’s face. Vinyl couldn’t be this stupid, could she?

Vinyl walked totally into view, and began talking animatedly to the bouncer, making a sign that was clearly meant to be mimicking taking a drink. She was grinning like a maniac, and Octavia could have sworn that she saw Vinyl’s glasses flicker her way for a second.

'For the love of Luna, don’t look at me,' Octavia thought to herself, getting up from the window and cracking a few joints. If Vinyl actually got inside, then she was going to need a bailout, and fast.

The bouncer seemed to think about it for a moment, but eventually stepped aside and ushered Vinyl inside the bar. Octavia didn’t waste a moment, gathering her weapons and gear and hightailing it down the rickety stairs to ground level. She cursed herself that she hadn’t gone over stakeout procedure a little more carefully with Vinyl, but surely the one about not actually going into the place you were watching should have been so obvious that it didn’t need to be said. Now she was going to have to blow her cover to go and rescue her stupid apprentice. And that meant they were right back as square one, possibly even further behind than that if anypony had talked.

Down on the street, she stowed her weapons behind a couple of rotting barrels of what had presumably once been fruit or vegetables. Now they were nothing but mush. While she would have certainly felt a whole lot more comfortable if she could have brought in some of her favoured weapons, she doubted that she would be able to get past the door with them on. Werewolves were dumb, but even they weren’t stupid enough to let a clearly strange mare inside without at least one search.

'And they would probably enjoy doing a body search just a little bit more than they should.'

Of course, all she had to do was make sure that the bouncer was unable to search her first…

“Hey there, big stuff,” she called out sweetly, putting just enough sultry lust into her voice that she was sure she would get his attention. As an added bonus, Octavia had applied a few drops of a synthetic pheromone she had stored in her gear to her coat. It wouldn’t last long, but it would make her smell like she was in heat.

The bouncer looked up, this time suspicion clear on his face. One surprise visitor was bad enough, but two of them was getting just a little too popular, and if there was one thing the Wet Mutt wasn’t, it wasn’t popular. From the same end of the alley as the DJ had come from came another mare. A little grey number, batting her eyes at him. Everything about her radiated ‘doesn’t fit here.’ She was too clean, clearly well groomed, and her eyes were just a little too sharp. On the other hoof, she was clinking towards him with only one thing in her eyes.

“I don’t suppose you could let me inside? I’m awful thirsty, mister.” Octavia internally cringed at what she sounded like. She was getting too old to be pretending to be so young. By now, she was only a few feet away from the bouncer, and she could see a tell tale brightness to his eyes, almost as if they were glowing slightly.

“Beat it, lady,” the stallion growled, and Octavia caught a rank odour coming from his mouth. The kind of rotting smell that could only have come from week old meat. There was no question anymore in her mind. This stallion was a werewolf, which gave her plenty of liberty for what was going to happen next.

“Oh, come on, mister. Surely you could let me in? I’ll do anything,” she mock pleaded, walking past the werewolf and swishing her tail under his nose. He took in a lungful of her chemically altered scent, and instantly stiffened a little. Once she was sure she had his full attention, she stopped and wiggled her rump at him, giving him an eyeful of her flank and plot. “And I do mean anything.

There was no way that even the most dense pony could have mistaken her signals. Octavia had done this dozens of times before, so she knew just how to work her body so as to get what she wanted. A quick flash of tender flesh, the promise of a moment of bliss, and all males were like putty in her hooves. Mares too, on occasion if her cover called for it.

The bouncer seemed to think about it for a long moment, before he nodded and motioned for Octavia to follow him around the side of the bar, into the alley where the last unlucky stallion had wound up.

“Gotcha,” Octavia muttered under her breath. Sometime she was going to have to say thankyou to whatever forces had ensured that stallions didn’t have enough blood to run their brains and their dicks at the same time. Once you set one off, the other just stopped working. “This is almost too easy.”

The bouncer motioned for Octavia to enter first, which she did, quickly looking around for anything she could use. One item stood out among all the trash and junk laying scattered around the alley, and she made a beeline for it, careful not to make it too obvious.

Once she was within easy reach of her goal, she stopped and leaned forwards a little, flicking her tail out of the way. The first time she had done something like this, putting her intimates on display like this had been hard for her, though the stallion had been appreciative enough to tell her everything she had wanted to hear. Now, it was nothing more than just another facet of the job. It wasn’t as if this stallion would have much time to appreciate the view, after all.

Two meaty hooves landed on each side of her body, and Octavia braced herself for the coming weight. He pressed himself forwards, and Octavia felt something jabbing her in the back, something soft but hardening. It didn’t take a genius to work out what it was, and without missing a beat, she bucked a leg upwards and slammed into it, hard.

The stallion grunted and fell to the ground, hooves clutching at his crotch. Octavia just turned around and looked at him, a smug little smirk forming on her face. This was too easy.

“Stupid bitch,” the stallion growled, eyes glowing brighter now. “Last mistake you ever make. I might save that sweet little ass of yours, though. Plenty tight on those long winter nights.”

Octavia didn’t even blink as she watched the stallion’s body ripple and change. Fur grew out in patches, his muzzle elongated and teeth grew out in rapid motion. She had seen this so many times before if didn’t even make her interested. This wolf didn’t know it yet, but he was dead the moment he woke up this morning. Outwardly, she started to affect airs of shaking in terror.

"Wh-what's going on?" she squeaked, letting fear and confusion leech into her voice. As long as the werewolf thought that she was just some damsel who didn't know anything, then that meant she would have the hidden advantage.

His transformation finished, the wolf looked up at her with hungry eyes. A throaty growl escaped his lips, now covered in slobber. Yellowing fangs protruded from his mouth. The fangs were the only thing that Octavia actually was worried about; all a werewolf had to do was bite you once and there was a better than even chance that you would end up just like them. Multiple bites over several days ensured it. Octavia had been bitten once; just a nip when she was starting out, and she got off very lucky with only a mild case of blood poisoning from her opponents filthy fangs. She had no desire to repeat the encounter here.

The wolf laughed at her. "You picked the wrong pony to mess with, little mare. You now face your apex predator. If you're lucky, I might snap your neck first, though I think I’m going to take what you promised me earlier."

Octavia caught a glimpse between his legs, and it didn't take much to work out what would happen if she made a mistake here. Fortunately, this was hardly the first time she had done this. Werewolves were predictable when enraged; dangerous, but predictable.

She backed up a little, seeming to stumble when she bumped into the body of the pony that had been left there earlier. Sensing her mistake, the wolf padded forwards, eager for the thrill of a fresh kill. All that healthy meat on her body; he would feast tonight. When he came to within a few body spans of her, he pounced, jaws open and ready to tear her throat open.

Octavia watched the wolf lunge at her. When he hit the moment when she figured he was committed to the jump, she reached behind her and pulled out the object she had seen earlier – the knife jammed into the dead ponies back. Bringing the rusted blade around, she threw herself forward, closing in between the wolf’s claws, and buried the blade deep into his throat. The wolf instantly froze and began sinking to the ground, whining pathetically as blood seeped out around the knife.

“When you get to Tartarus, tell Tierek that Octavia sent you,” Octavia said, not even bothering to watch him die with a look of surprise on his face. Almost every vampire or wolf she had tracked down had heard of her, even if it was just as a legend. One vampire had even called her the Grey Hunter shortly before she had staked her.

Clearly, this wolf had had no idea with whom he was dealing with. "His loss," Octavia thought to herself, walking out of the alley. His wound was fatal, and there was no point in hanging around any longer. She wasn’t worried about the body being discovered any time soon, and even if it was, there was no way that anypony would report it. In a few minutes, he would revert back to pony form and that would be that; just another drunk who bit off more than he could chew.

With the entrance to the bar now open, Octavia gathered her remaining gear and weapons. A silver stake, a short sword, a couple of darts and a pair of Blast Radius's silver nitrate grenades rounded out what she could bring in with her. Her larger sword would be useless in the close quarters of the bar, and her cloak would slow her down.

Not wasting any more time, she hitched her weapons to her body and walked calmly into the seedy bar to rescue her partner from the clutches of vile forces that she had sworn to eradicate from this land.

This is going to be fun.

Octavia's entrance into the Wet Mutt generated exactly the reaction she had been hoping for. Every single set of eyes in the bar, be they pony, or otherwise, instantly turned to look at the newcomer into their midst. All sound ceased, with the exception of Vinyl's panicked breathing over in one of the corners. Two werewolves in full change had her pinned, and they were advancing slowly, working as a pair to keep her boxed in while others looked on and laughed. Vinyl had been tyring to keep them at bay with bursts of magic, but it was becoming clear that they would quickly overcome her if nothing else happened.

All that stopped when Octavia walked in. Vinyl looked at her with hope and relief in her eyes, or so Octavia assumed; Vinyl's glasses made it hard to tell exactly what expression she was making half the time. The wolves smelled the large quantities of silver on her body and shied away, or just stood their ground, growling at her.

One pony, the one in charge here, Octavia guessed, pointed a hoof at her. "How did you get in here?"

Octavia smiled at him. “The Wolf you had on guard duty caught the end of a rather... cutting remark. Needless to say, he won't be reporting for work tomorrow."

The leader pony scowled for a moment, but didn't say anything. The pony outside had been a liability for a long time, so his death was hardly a major concern. "Is that so?" he finally said. "From your appearance, and your apparent lack of concern, I'm guessing that you must be the famous Octavia Philharmonica, the hunter in grey."

"You've heard of me?" Octavia replied, nonchalant.

"Indeed. Your pelt will make a fine trophy that will restore me in the master’s eyes," he said before turning to address the assembled ponies in the bar. "Two hundred bits to whoever kills them both, but bring me Octavia's head. I'm going to have it mounted."

With that, half the patrons charged at Octavia, and things got bloody.

Two minutes later, Octavia calmly drew her sword from the back of the last standing wolf. It hadn’t been much of a battle in the end. When the first two to attack her had fallen, seemingly without her having to even move, a couple of the less committed werewolves had turned and fled, clearly valuing their own continued survival over that of loyalty to their master. They hadn’t gotten far, with one of Blast’s grenades splashing searing silver all over them. After that, it had been more cleanup than actual fighting. Sure some might gripe that it was dishonourable, that a true warrior would give their opponent a fighting chance. Octavia was not interested in semantics, only that her job was done in the most efficient way possible.

Soon it was just her, the group’s leader and Vinyl left, though Vinyl had apparently taken the position of just watching from the sidelines. It was like she had just been forgotten the moment Octavia had walked in. Which was fine as far as Octavia was concerned. She didn’t need help in a fight, and certainly not with something as one sided as this one had been. Compared to some scraps she had been in, this barely rated a warm-up.

With his minions now either dead, or so crippled as to be useless, the stallion snarled at Octavia, showing off teeth. “Morons,” he muttered to himself, “Werewolves have to be the biggest waste of…”

Octavia just gave him a confident smile. “And here I thought that werewolves were meant to be tough. All that apex predator stuff your doorman was spouting earlier. These ones couldn’t even hunt down an already dead fly.”

The stallion snarled at her again, nearly foaming at the mouth. With a casual air, Octavia undid the clips holding her weapons on and let them fall to the ground. All except one of her stakes. Her remaining nitrate grenade would make this too easy, and suck out all the fun.

The stallion was just about to lunge at her when a bottle of cheap hooch shattered on his head. Enraged he turned around to see Vinyl levitating another bottle towards him. He had almost forgotten the pale horse. Still, if a bottle was the worst she could manage, then she was no threat to him.

He brought his attention back around to Octavia, only to find her hoof rushing right at his face. It connected and he fell like a sack of stones to the ground, leaving only Octavia and Vinyl left standing.

Vinyl dropped the bottle she had been holding to the counter and let out a long exhale. Octavia didn’t rest, quickly cantering over to Vinyl, determination in her eyes.

“Are you ok?” she asked, eyes quickly narrowing in on a trickle of blood running down Vinyl’s flank. “Were you bit?”

Vinyl looked around, noticing the wound for the first time. “No, I don’t think so. They nipped my tail a couple of times, if that counts?”

Octavia shook her head, “No, hair is dead cells, no danger there.” She quickly wiped away the blood with a rag. “It looks like a scratch to me.”

Satisfied that her partner was in no more danger, Octavia gave her a hell warmed over stare. “Now then, just what in all HELL where you thinking, Vinyl? You would have blown your cover, compromised our entire operation, or even gotten one or both of us killed. Well, I’m waiting.”

Vinyl quailed under the barrage. “I-I don’t know, Octy. I though I could just sort of go in, ask a quick question or two and get out before anypony noticed. I didn’t think that…”

Octavia interrupted her, “That’s right. You didn’t think. Do you have any idea what they would have done to you if I hadn’t come in after you?”

Vinyl paled a little, clearly only just now starting to understand exactly how foolish she had been. “They would have killed me, wouldn’t they?”

Octavia nodded curtly. “Yes, Vinyl, they would have killed you. But first they would have taken turns gang raping you, maybe bitten off a limb or two for dinner, and then tortured you until you told them everything you know. If they were feeling perverse, they may even have tried to turn you into one of them and use you as a broodmare for a while.”

“Oh, Celestia,” Vinyl breathed before covering her mouth with a hoof. She leaned behind the counter before vomiting.

Octavia softened slightly, grabbing Vinyl’s made and holding it away from her mouth. “Werewolves are vile, almost as bad as vampires are. They are brutish, stupid, depraved, and violent, easily one of the most dangerous combatants you can face. You never just walk into one of their lairs, do you understand?”

Vinyl wiped her mouth. “But, you made it look so easy just then. You took on like five or six of them without even blinking.”

“I’ve been training for this since I was a foal. My first time out, I made a total mess of things, and very nearly lost my head because of it.”

Vinyl took her glasses off and looked directly at Octavia. “When they started to corner me, I just froze up. I don’t want to feel like that again. I want to be as good as you. I just panicked, while you were just so calm.”

“I can teach you, Vinyl. But don’t think you are off the hook for this,” Octavia indicated the bar, and the stallion who was beginning to moan a little on the ground. “You will be punished for severe lack of judgement and disobeying my orders, but not now. We still have work to do.”

"What are we going to do with this one?" Vinyl asked, indicating the fallen leader.

Octavia thought about it for a moment. Normally, she would just go straight for the interrogation. Her gear outside contained a variety of truth serums of various strengths and side effects, but she figured that if Vinyl was really serious about learning then this might be a good time to let her get a little hooves on experience. Plus if they were going to be working together, then it made sense for her to use Vinyl's skill sets when it suited them.

"Can you do that hypnosis thing on him? Find out what he knows. Anything that might point us towards a base of operations, or even the next link up in the chain."

Vinyl nodded quickly and focused on the slowly recovering pony. In his disorientated state it was easy for Vinyl to subdue his mind, and it didn’t take long before they had him singing like the proverbial canary.

“Who is The Master? You mentioned being out of favour with them.” Vinyl was right to the point now, crisp and businesslike. Octavia was impressed; she had missed that part about him mentioning returning to favour, having been too focused on prepping herself for the coming fight.

“The Master is The Master. With you as a trophy he would have seen fit to embrace me and raise me high in his services.”

So The Master is a he, and embrace suggests he is a vampire, Octavia thought. More than we had before.

“What is The Master’s plan?” she asked.

“The Master searches for a pony dear to him. One who will usher in the age of Sanguine. When he finds her, then shall he eradicate the scourge of the sun from the land, and all shall be washed away in a glorious feast of blood where only the faithful will survive.”

“What is The Master’s name, and where can we find him?”

Beside her, Vinyl shuddered with concentration. “That one touched a nerve. He’s fighting the spell. I can’t hold it for much longer.”

The stallion blinked a couple of times, clearly resisting Vinyl’s impulses. “The Master’s name is… Armane. He is in… hiding in the… San Palomino desert. An… abandoned temple…” With that, he shook his head sharply and threw off the last vestiges of Vinyl’s influence. “Not that either one of you will live to find it.”

In a flurry of speed, he pushed Vinyl aside and lunged at Octavia, clamping his teeth around her throat with the intention of tearing out her throat, or at least choking her to death. With her weapons pushed off to the side, and him pressed right up next to her, Octavia couldn’t generate the needed leverage to dislodge him. Black spots started to appear in her vision as she flailed around.

Suddenly, the stallion released her and slumped to the ground next to her, eyes glassing over and very clearly dead. A large shard of the broken liquor bottle protruded from the back of his head, while Vinyl had a second shard floating in her magic. The shard clattered to the ground and Vinyl rushed over to roll him off of her body.

Octavia clutched her throat and coughed, thankful that pony teeth were very poor at tearing flesh. Had he been a werewolf or vampire, she would certainly be dead now.

“Vinyl, I *cough*, I… Thank you,” she choked out, wheezing with every breath. At least she could still breath, though every inhale was like swallowing a mouthful of razors. Probably her windpipe had been bruised.

Vinyl helped her up to her hooves. “I sorry. He broke free. I couldn’t stop him.”

“It’s *cough* ok… Vinyl. You did *cough* good. You saved my life.”

“Does that make us even?”

Octavia gave Vinyl a deadpan look. “Not by a long *cough* shot. But we’ll save this for later. Right now the princess needs to be told about what we learned. We have a name and possible location. And,” she paused, taking in another shuddering breath, “we have to sanitise this place. Nopony can know we were ever here, or what happened here.”

“How are we going to do that?” Vinyl asked. She had no idea how they were meant to clean this place up. At least eight bodies lay scattered around, including one that lay dead from her own hooves. That was blood that wasn’t going to just wash off in the bath.

'I’ll work that baggage out later,' she thought, shoving the knowledge that she had killed down into a dark little compartment in her brain. This would almost certainly not be the last pony who would give her no other choice, and she knew that if she hadn’t done what she did, Octavia would be dead, and likely her as well.

“You’d be surprised at the kinds of things that just left lying around.” Octavia looked around and he eyes alighted on one very particular piece of equipment not uncommon to this kind of establishment. Very naughty, and oh so useful for her purposes right now. Someone had been running a moonshine still behind the counter.

“Homemade stills are such unreliable pieces of equipment. Prone to ignite at the slightest provocation. I think this place is about to have a little ‘industrial accident.’”

An hour later, Octavia and Vinyl were back in their tiny apartment. The Wet Mutt Bar was fully ablaze now, and Octavia wondered if the fire brigade would even respond to a call in that part of town. Nopony would miss the bar; some would almost certainly have not known it was there to begin with. Life would just go on without it.

Octavia had made herself a soothing herbal tea, and her throat was feeling better, though bruising was clearly forming in an obvious bite pattern. She would have to break out some makeup from the Estée Luna ‘it never happened’ collection. It could wait though; she had to report back to the princess.

“This is most troubling news,” Celestia’s voice reverberated around the tiny room. “I have received a similar report from Cloakshape. You and your apprentice are to be commended for such timely work.”

“Do you have new orders for us?” Octavia asked, all business with the princess.

“Yes. I want you to remain in Manehattan for another two or three days; make sure that you didn’t leave any traces that could lead back to you. Once you are certain that you are in the clear, I want to you return to Canterlot.”

“Aww, but we just got here,” Vinyl complained from over on her bed. She had, of all things, a Mane-iac comic open on her pillow. Octavia was impressed with how Vinyl had handled herself. She had expected Vinyl to start blubbering or have a breakdown; taking that first life was never easy, even if it had been a knee-jerk reaction moment. Instead, Vinyl had just seemed to a mental shrug and blot it out, burying herself into an action packed comic the moment they had gotten home. Even still, that was no reason that she could be rude to their princess and high commander.

“Hush, Vinyl,” Octavia hissed. “Please go on, princess.”

“Thanks to you we now have a better idea of where this Armane is. Once we locate this temple you mentioned, I will recall the others. From there, a surgical strike on their headquarters will end this threat, if not for ever, then at least for centuries to come. I will not allow my little ponies to be threatened in such a manner again. It will be risky, but I have no doubt that you and the order are up to the challenge.

Octavia smiled inwardly, then realised that the princess couldn’t see her, and a grim look crossed her face. This was exactly the kind of thing she had been hoping to do for a long time. It would be just like the old days again, back when the lines were clear cut. Vampires bad, that’s how it used to be, back before Lyra and her ilk had corrupted the purity of the orders goals. “I understand, princess. We will be back in Canterlot by weeks end. Agent Philharmonica out.”

The enchantments faded, and Octavia was left alone in the room with Vinyl.

“We heading out again?” Vinyl asked

Octavia shook her head. “No. Get some rest, Vinyl. I suspect we might be very busy from here on out.”

Author's Note

And we're back!

I know I've kept many of you waiting for an absurdly long time to get this going again. I got more than one PM of varying levels of impatience asking when I would be returning to writing this story, and now I can say that I'm back, and I'm ready to get going again. The couple of major plot holes I could see myself going towards have been pre-emptively resolved, I know where I want to take the ending, and I'm in the mood to write about vampires being vampires.

No idea on chapter updates from here on out, but they certainly won't be anywhere near as long as this one was.

A thanks to everyone who stood by and waited for this to happen; I know that many people view the on hiatus setting as a soft cancelled, but not this time.