EDITED

"Do you need some help there, miss?" 

   The werewolf broke the eye contact and turned around to see whoever spoke earlier. A light hearted chuckle came from the stranger, followed by several thuds and hacking sounds. I cringed at the horrifying noises but after learning my lesson, I didn't peek anymore.

   Liliane and I both drew breath in sharply when the cupboard's doors flung open. A middle aged looking man gave us a crooked smile as he stepped aside and told us that it's safe now. Bile rose in my throat once we both stepped out and barely avoided stepping on the meat pile. Guts were spilled; mixed with the pool of blood. But that wasn't the worst part - I could hardly make out the body parts. Everything looked like they had been thrown into a blender.

   A light tap on my shoulder made me jump. 

   "Come on, don't you want to see your friends?" Our savior drawled, his bloodshot eyes studied me.

   There was something mysterious and ominous about this stranger. Yet, I couldn't place my finger on what it was. Avoiding his scrutiny stare, I quickly joined Liliane and walked through the door. My golden eyes enlarged with surprise at the sight of the bloody hallway. The once pastel blue wallpaper had scratch marks and blood. It was made pretty clear that a huge fight happened here; between this man and the werewolves.

   A vampire versus more than ten werewolves? I should be on my guard whenever he's near... I decided, chewing my inner cheek. He gestured towards the kitchen and without any delay, I barged in. The two maids cowered in the corner with several dead corpses around them. The fact that they had put up a fight made me slightly relieved.

   "Are you okay?" I hurried to their side.

   Margaret raised her head and tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace instead. "We're fine but... we could be better."

   "Those ghouls need a new master, miss," he said, lighting his Cuban cigar. "Looks like King Marcus didn't take a good care of them." 

   Annoyance swept across my face as I bit back a rude reply. Then realization dawned on me. If he knew King Marcus, he must be Mr. Edwards. Lincoln's warnings stuck in my head like a broken record. 

   "We don't need a new master..." Margaret gave a feeble protest, holding an unconscious Gwen. "We will be fine."

   He didn't even blink before walking out from the place. Liliane and I quickly helped them up and trailed behind him. Strands of graying hair poked out from his casually styled hair. We came to the house owner's bedroom. The homely features turned into a horrifying place with dead corpses on the floor. A pang of guilt hit my chest when my gaze fell on the newlyweds. 

   "Don't worry, missy..." Mr. Edwards trailed off, stepping on their dead bodies. "They're dead now - at least they have heaven to go to. Unlike us, we're damned."

   My lips parted to voice my opinion on his view of life but several familiar groans caught my attention. I heard someone collapsing and revealed the well-hidden twins. 

   "Desmond!" I screamed, running to his bleeding figure.

   The female twin shook her head slowly while holding on to Lincoln's right arm. A pool of blood rapidly increased around us as I repeated the elf's name over and over again. Much to my dismay, Desmond never responded to my calls.

   A hand placed itself on my shoulder and gave me a small squeeze. "If you want, we can deal with this while you wait at outside."

  I lowered my head in silence. With slow, hesitant movements, I placed my hand on Margaret's before walking out from the bloody bedroom. 

   My mind was chaotic with panicked thoughts. Desmond became the only thing I could think about. My head lolled against the wall as I casually sprawled on the messy floor. A surprised Cuchulainn - in his human disguise - walked towards me, silently asking for an explanation for the sudden disappearance of the werewolves.

   I didn't bother briefing him.

   After what seemed like hours, they finally came out with depressed looks on their faces. Except Mr. Edwards - he seemed to be surveying the situation with keen eyes. Margaret caught me staring at her and tried her best to crack a smile for me. 

   "Let's hope for the best, Artemis." Her voice sounded raspy. "Our mighty elf can't die that easily right?"

   Not even a single word left my lips as I followed them to the streets. I could barely hear the conversation held between Mr. Edwards and the centaur as Lincoln hotwired a Volkswagen Jetta. Margaret and I hefted Desmond onto the passenger seat before entering the car. Mr. Edward sat beside our driver, Lincoln - since he decided to let us stay at his place.

   For the time being.

   Truth be told, I rather stay in The Plaza than in some abnormally strong vampire's house. He might kill us and no one know about it, a voice in my head whispered. I mentally debated with myself; should I go along or rebel? Sparing a look at Desmond, I knew we had to go to Mr. Edwards' house. At some point, I and the others had to leave him under someone's care. 

   We obviously can't ask someone's help from The Plaza!

   Assuming Mr. Edwards wouldn't do any harm to him while we were away, of course.

   My fists balled up at the thought of him betraying us. But deep inside, I was aware that this was our only option. I sat between an unconscious Gwendoline and (possibly dead) Desmond. A mildly interesting conversation sparked among the small group but countless thoughts filled my mind. However, I couldn't help but notice the casual tone in their voices gradually became irritated.

   "All I'm saying is you and the other servant there needs a new master," Mr. Edwards said with growing annoyance in his voice. "Unless you and her plan to die again?"

   Margaret released a huff of breath before snapping,"Not everyone can afford giving blood to their servants every day, sir -" she paused and added a hint of disgust. "- I'm sure you know that better than anyone else here."

   Even from my seat, I could catch a glimpse of Mr. Edward's scowl. "I'm merely pointing out the fact, maid. You do know that the longer you're masterless, the quicker you will exhaust yourself and eventually... death is upon you."

   Usually, I would butt into random conversations and speak my mind. But this time, the possibility of Desmond being dead just sealed my lips. Margaret, as expected, didn't reply this time and trained her eyes on the road instead. Lincoln asked a few questions about the house's location every now and then. 

   After a long silence, my eyelids started to feel heavy as if someone was pulling them down. Giving in, I allowed myself to drift into the darkness.

***

   "We're here, Artemis." A hand shook my shoulder roughly.

   I resisted the urge to yawn and looked at the person. Lincoln stared back at me, boredom clearly showed in his crimson eyes. My eyes rolled at the sight of him, out of habit. 

   "You're blocking me, moron." My voice sounded raspy and exhausted.

   His body immediately moved away from me and pointed at the lavish looking beach house. Beach house? Where are we? When I got out from the car, my eyes darted around, soaking in the gorgeous landscape laid before me. The skies were tinted by reddish orange colors - as if a palette with a variety of sunset paints spilled on it. A gentle breeze lifted several strands of my dirty blonde hair and caressed my exposed skin. I closed my eyes to appreciate the occasional squawking of the seagulls and sounds of constant waves crashing.

   The sounds from mother nature really soothe the soul... Unlike the hustle  and bustle of a city, I thought to myself.

   "How many times do I have to call you?" The brat's voice interrupted my moment of peacefulness.

   A frown settled between my eyebrows as I stomped towards the door held by him. "Is it because I called you a moron?" 

   He didn't answer my question.

   Inside, it didn't look like Mr. Edwards bothered adding his own touch into these ready made furniture. The wood panel floors were so spotless; I became half convinced that I could see my face if I tried. Naturally, Mr. Edwards led us to the coastal inspired living room. A groan of relief escaped from my lips once I plopped on one of the white plush sofas.

   The middle-aged man chuckled. "Nothing like home, yes?"

   This is not my home, I almost said. 

   An uneasy chill ran down my spine as I observe the room. My guts told me that I had been in this place before - yet no matter how much I tried to remember, I couldn't recall anything about arriving here before.

   "Maybe I saw this in one of those catalogs..." I mumbled.

   "Again?" 

   "No, nothing!"

   He gave a small nod before smiling. Somehow, his smile frightened me a little. "Don't worry about your elf; he is being taken care of. My housemaid carried him to the attic."

  Uncertainty rose within me. "Why the attic? Can't we just give him a room instead? He might not be dead, you know."

  The lines at the corner of his eyes appeared when he gave me another smile. "Oh, my attic is well furnished. Like I said, don't worry about him... Missy."

   I lowered my head in defeat. Many thoughts raced through my mind but only one remained.

   Please don't be dead, Desmond!

~~~

A/N 

Two things to be highlighted:

1) I'M SORRY!

2) I GOT INVOLVED WITH SOMETHING SERIOUS!

-sigh- I hate myself for taking such a long time to resume writing. Trust me, my fingers itched to type but... many things happened. I can't talk about it though- I'm not mentally prepared for it yet. I believe MANY left my story in the corner to collect dust. 

But to those who stayed and hoped for an update -

THANK YOU!!!

PM me if you continued to stay - you'll receive a dedication from me. Oh and I'll make a free cover too - if you want. 

Good news is - I'm settling down again so expect more updates from me in the future.

~Jen