For Love of Evil - [Roman Godfrey/Hemlock Grove]

-12-

*
Blood.

Droplets of blood cascade down the surface of a concrete wall. Old, unusable control panels line the other side - some open, some closed.

Steel beams set in random areas of the building, the sound of water dripping into a puddle... or maybe blood.

The limbs of a mangled body lay adjacent to the place Peter had once seen Lyra, sitting in the muck, staring into nothing.

Peter was alone, under a half moon. He looked through the trees to see not one, but two vargulfs staring down one another with snarling teeth.

The images flashed through Peter's mind quickly, unable to grasp what any of it meant.
*

Roman had been waiting for Peter outside the school for nearly ten minutes. He flicked his cigarette in front of the moving bus, losing his patience.

Lyra had been absent from school, not to mention his dreams of her were finally gone. He missed her; he missed the fact that he hadn't seen her in twenty-four hours, not even during his sleep.

He wracked his brain, trying to think of a possible reason Lyra hadn't come into school, only to be left with annoyance.

Peter exited through the school doors as Roman whirled around with a sigh. "What the fuck took you so long?" Roman's brows furrowed in agitation, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Peter approached in distraught.

"We gotta talk. I had another dream last night." Peter grabbed Roman by his elbow, guiding him down the steps to around the side of the school. Once they had made it out of listening range, Roman jerked his arm out of Peter's grasp.

"What, what is it?"

"I saw something last night. An abandoned warehouse or some shit. I saw not one, but two vargulfs."

"So?" Roman kept his eyes on Peter, trying to read into his expression of what he thought it meant.

"It's gonna happen again, but not under a full moon. It was under a half moon. I saw a body... fucking legs and shit. We gotta figure out where this place is."

"What did it look like?" Roman asked, chewing on his bottom lip.

"It had your last name on it, Godfrey, in big bold letters. There were steel beams scattered everywhere, the place was filthy. And controls panels..."

"The old steel mill." Roman nodded slightly, realizing exactly what Peter had seen. "Some call it Castle Godfrey. People throw parties there."

"Isn't that trespassing?" Peter reached into his jean jacket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"The place has been abandoned for years, nobody cares. It's next to a river that flows north, confuses the fuck out of birds." Roman shrugged, trailing his hand through his dirty blonde hair. He looked to Peter, ready to go.

"So I guess it's off to play Sherlock and Watson, huh?" Peter smirked, smoke from his cigarette billowing above his head.

"Guess so." Roman began walking to his car, Peter following behind, catching glances at fellow students who stared daggers at him, possibly in terror, or in disgust... he wasn't sure.

Peter smirked confidently, knowing that no one would say anything with their mouths with Roman around.

Everyone feared the Godfrey boy, they were intimated by him. He was the heir to the Godfrey fortune, and that meant people kissed his ass graciously, as if being in Roman's presence was somehow a gift. No one would admit what an impeccable asshole he truly was beneath all that wealth. That cocky, rich-boy persona was only the tip of the iceberg.