Chapter 35: Where Are You

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Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.

The phrase spun in circles in Obie's head like ghostly voices teasing the main character in a horror movie. Should the warnings belong in the mouths of supernatural entities, whose sole purposes are to haunt and not prevent casualty. Most likely, no. Though, Obie's comparison rested in the similarities of its taunting ways that provoked her fear to come alive.

She tried to puzzle the pieces together; relating to her anxiety.

For days, Obie envisioned their encounter as less than gratifying. The anger, blackening her conscience, had the opportunity to release and blare out for revenge against the vampire. The fact his blood was running through her veins was irritating.

In news of her father, Obie had to let the anger go for now.

She had a new focus. 

Obie stared up the staircase, hesitantly.

At first, she wanted to find the vampire, because she needed to kill him.

Presently, she wanted to find the vampire, because she just needed him.

Needing someone was the scariest thing in the world.

It's worse she felt bad for him.

Obie leaned her head towards her shoulder to feel B's warmth.

His scent was strong and covered Mrs. Fisher's home.

It was as overwhelming as the perfume in the Macy's cosmetic and fragrance section. The overbearing odor didn't make Obie lightheaded nor did she catch the perfume in her mouth causing her to cough. Instead, it made Obie dizzy in the most pleasant, startling way. It wasn't like the nausea she experienced for the past few days. It was more of a gentle whirl that made one feel light and airy; like a busy person awakening from a long nap or the cheerful feeling when a child jumps from the top of the staircase and landing successfully at the bottom.

Despite the blaring odor, Obie can locate his specific position to one place. That was upstairs.

She inhaled deeply. "I can do this."

Obie began walking up the steps, leisurely.

One hand on her gun. The other hand was laid against the wall, sliding on top a protruding cross ever so often.

She reached the top, recognizing the random brown rocking chair in the hallway, bible on the desk and wall of frames.

There were four blue painted wooden doors. Style wise, it conflicted with the pink flower wallpaper, the green picture frames, brown hovering shelves and golden crosses between each photo.

One by one, Obie pushed the doors open, knowing her prize awaited at the end of the hallway. But buying time aided Obie in finding the right words to say.

One door pushed; the bathroom.

Obie could spit her questions right out. But it would alarm him.

Second door pushed; the supply storage.

Obie could hold a gun to his head and force him to talk. But he would fight her. Deja Vu.

Third door pushed; the spare room for her guest.

Obie could relax and dwindle her emotional reactions with logical ones. Though, he was an intelligent vampire, the level of his intelligence was unknown.

Obie's fingers lingered on the cold doorknob.

Moment of truth.

Obie didn't know what to do.

Perhaps leading by a specific tactic was a failure waiting to happen.

Obie pushed the door open; the master bedroom.

Being led by nothing felt doomed as well.

She entered the room, refusing to swoon over the pleasing aroma.

Flashcards were floating in the air and gliding side to side onto the grey bedsheet. It was like someone threw them.

Nevertheless, he wasn't here.

She had to check the room.

The private bathroom was empty.

The shower and bathtub were empty.

Her tiny cosmetics room was empty.

Under the bed was empty.

The sheets were flat.

The corners were clear.

The closet was the only compartment left to check. Obie had to remove the flashing images of their first encounter out of her head. She remembered him hiding in the closet with his burnt flesh peeling off his body. His tongue had tasted the skin on her cleavage.

She shivered.

A nightmare she'll never forget.

Fearfully, Obie opened the closet starkly. 

The closet was empty.

Obie breathed in relief.

She didn't want to relive that trauma again. Thank you very much.

Obie rotated.

"Where the hell is he-"

Obie screamed.

The vampire was standing in front of Obie.

She backed into the closet, tripping over a metal hanger and fell on her bottom. Burrito clung to her shoulder to brace the impact. One of Mrs. Fisher's musky dresses hugged her eyes like the hem was fighting for a habitation to sit on, after being abandoned for three years. Her hands whacked the dress frantically, which left Obie to deal with the mildew and entanglement.

She froze as her temporary blindness was cleared.

The vampire was inches from her face.

His blue eyes paralyzed Obie's breathing. Those abnormal blue eyes were large and upturned at the corners. The way his long black hair fell upon each side of his diamond sculpted face could rival the haunting entity in The Grudge. She could have sworn his tresses were shorter from their last happenstance, but now, the length touched his exposed rear. The deepness of his hair was a natural-given admiration for his skin tone. The tough membrane was suave and glowed like satin fabric. Notwithstanding the detail of the sun's deathly reign on the vampire population, his skin appeared to be kissed unsparingly by the light with such an impeccable golden radiance.

After he detached the dress out of her face, he erected. The tightness between his muscle and skin reminded Obie of his strength and to not underestimate his cruel nature. Also, his presence reminded Obie of his blatant nakedness and needing to tell him to wear some pants.

He stepped back as Obie stood up, guardedly.

Timidly, Obie slipped out of the closet and slid against the wall to the farthest corner in the room.

His gaze followed Obie, raptly.

It's really been a while.

Peering upon the vampire for the first time was overwhelming.

Overwhelming her senses enough to prevent her speech.

If she believed it was possible, she would say he was nervous too. He was staring at her like he had his tail between his legs. His mouth was parted as if he had something to say, but was struggling to make it out.

This was completely fucking insane.

The same vampire, who ripped countless people and vampires apart to save her, was uneasy.

Unexpectedly, the vampire brought his hidden hand to the front.

Obie jumped, her hand touching the gun.

He raised his eyebrow at her, but then shrugged her off to proceed.

He was holding a flashcard in his hand, contemplating the word on the paper.

Oh great.

Mister vampire can read.

He threw the card on the floor, straightened his posture and glowered at Obie candidly in the eyes.  

She leaned her weight on the dresser that Burrito crawled on to hide behind the lamp.

He closed his eyebrows together in a frown and tied his hands behind his back.

Obie traced his footsteps as they took another step.

He breathed in and out.

Something Obie actually found familiar with herself.

He took another step forward, looking at the card on the ground, cleared his throat and said, "Cheerio."

Obie's mouth dropped.

A/N: Vote, comment and enjoy, beautiful people

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