"OOOOoooohhhhh, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellooOOOWW.... WHICH NOBODY CAN DENY!" A piercing voice cries out. A probably intoxicated man, looking to be somewhere in his twenties and judging from his Chicago accent from America, stumbles towards the small house of what he hopes is his old friends. He's singing that stupid song awfully loudly, probably waking up anyone sleeping in the house or any nearby ones. The door slowly opens to reveal the face of a rather displeased looking Thyme.
"Hello? I- oh it's you." She frowns. Charles leans against the doorframe and gives her a fanged grin, his dirty blonde hair falling in his face.
"Uuhhmmm, hiya Tim-"
"It's Thyme. What do you want Charles?" She sounds rather exasperated.
"'Just wanna know if your pops is home... There's this thing going on, 'n I wanna know if he can co-" he mutters before getting cut off by Thyme once again.
"Charles, you know very well that my father is sick. He can't go anywhere right now."
"I, uhhh... Oh... That's no good..." he mumbles. "Can I come inside...?"
"I-" Thyme sighs. "You know what, why not. Will you be quiet if I let you in?"
"Quiet as a mouse! You can trust in me Miss Tammy!" He says rather loudly for someone that's supposed to be 'as quiet as a mouse'. Thyme (rather reluctantly) let's the drunken vampire in, probably praying that he'll leave soon enough and go bother someone else. Charles, of course, is completely oblivious to this. He flops down on the couch.
"Where's your brother, uhhh, Darius?" He asks.
"Demetrius? He's probably in his room." Thyme responds.
"Oh uhh... okay..." he coughs a bit. God, this is getting awkward. "Can I see Barnabus? It's been like... uhh... gosh, damfino..."
"You know what? Fine, go ahead. He's, uhhh... in the... um," Thyme looks around. "Closet..."
"Oh okay." Charles doesn't question it any further, getting up. He probably would think that's pretty odd, but he isn't exactly very sober right now. He walks inside the closet, not noticing the door closing behind him and the 'click' coming from the door that is probably the sound of Thyme locking him in.
"Where is he? I don't see him??" Charles sort've just fumbles around with the large amount of clothing. He can't really see anything either...
"He's in there! Just keep looking!" Thyme responds, obviously holding back laughter.
And so he kept looking.
(Author's Note: THIS CHAPTER IS
LITERALLY ONLY HERE BC WE THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUNNY ABSVSBJL SORRY WE'LL GET BACK TO THE SERIOUS CRAP LATER
ALSO SORRY THAT THIS SEEMS EVEN MORE CRAPPY THAN THE FIRST CHAPTER, I WASNT REALLY TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY OOPS)
YOU ARE READING
Opiate
VampireDeath. Simple. You'd never imagine an immortal being dying, but it happens. Now, answer this question; if someone you loved with all your heart died, what would you do? What if you had the ability to bring them back? What then?
