Rhys was busy taking stock in the employee back up of the 'Soft Beans Cafe'. Smiling pleasantly to himself, as was his way. It was late in the afternoon, school was done for the day and he had gotten all the details of Marshal's date from Marshal himself. He couldn't help but absolutely bubble with a distinct sense of pride at his best friend for having been brave enough to go through with it. Rhys had always known what Marshal deserved, and had always wanted no less than the best for him.

Unbeknownst to Marshal, Rhys had scared off numerous would be suitors that he didn't think would be good for Marshal. Well, he had Alaric or Alice scare them off, because Rhys was anything but intimidating. Regardless, he always kept a weather eye on anyone that might just be looking to play around. Except in the case of Mark, who had apparently come out of no where to ask Marshal out on a date.

Was it controlling and over protective? Most definitely. But he justified it by the love for his friend, who didn't have the confidence to tell people to fuck off when he needed to.

Rhys' attention shifted from the stock when there came the sudden cacophony of numerous utilities clattering to the ground from the cleaning closet, causing him to jump suddenly on the spot, and clutch at his chest.

Throwing his head back, he gave an annoyed groan. The cafe was barely hanging on by a thread as it is; the last thing this place needed was a pest problem, especially with the health inspector due any day now.

His hand extended towards the cool steel of the door handle, hesitating as the sound of more scuttling movement and utilities clattering to the ground came from within. Reaching for the old broom that sat to the left of the door, he took a bolstering, grounding breath before turning the handle and stepping in to the closet.

Rhys hurriedly darted inside, closing the door behind him before anything could escape and flicked on the light, while wielding the broom like the ultimate rat squashing weapon. He could see a form hiding behind a set of shelves, crouching in the far left corner of the room. Far too big to be a rat, his heart began to pump an uneasy set of nerves.

"Uh excuse me?" He called out to the figure, who froze from whatever it was doing at the sound of his voice. "This is employees only. You shouldn't be back here."

The figure stood and Rhys' knuckles began to turn white as he nervously tightened his grip around the broom. From this angle: He could see a fluttering of dark brown hair, pouring down the back of a white blouse, before ending in a pleated skirt. The legs were bare, but skinny, and they wore a simple set of plain shoes and socks that rose up till just above the ankle.

The figure turned, nervously moving it's form from behind the shelving as they revealed themselves, and the sight caused Rhys to let out a small gasp in surprise.

It was Rebecca. But she looked incredibly ill. The once fullness of her features seemed sunken, her skin pulled close to her bones, and her clothes hung loosely to her form, like her weight had suddenly and shockingly dropped. Where her skin once held the healthy tinge of rouge, it now seemed deathly pale with a slight shade of green. Like she was suffering from some kind of flu.

But the most shocking of all was the blotting of blood that soaked the front of her shirt, and continued to drip to the floor; all from the dead rat that she held between her teeth. Her eyes appeared glassy, bristling with tears in a concoction of both shame and worry.

"Rebecca? What are you doing?" Rhys asked with a concern laden in his voice as he placed the broom to his side and approached. Rebecca pulled the rodent from her mouth and let it drop to the floor with a grisly squelch.

"I'm just so hungry." She immediately began to sniffle. "I haven't seen Alaric in days. I'm hungry." Rebecca wiped at her eyes with the sleeves of her shirt, before doing the best she could to mop at the blood on her chin. Her shoulders began to gently shake against the weight of her restrained sobs.

Rhys stepped slowly, extending his hand outward and hesitating as Rebecca flinched. He placed it comfortingly on her shoulder, as Rebecca slowly leaned into the warmth of the connection.

"It's okay. I'm sure he'll turn up soon. If you're hungry I can make you a burger or something? We have the best chocolate cake in town." Rhys cooed softly as he did his best to calm the weeping girl.

"It's itching at my skin to be without him. I can feel it clawing at my skull." She wept louder, although quietened when Rhys made a gesture. Having one of the other staff members step in now would not be a good situation to try and explain.

Rebecca clutched at her head with both hands, her manicured nails coming loose as they dug into the flesh there while she leaned her shoulder against the wall for balance.

"It's alright, they'll pass in time I'm sure of it. Let's get you cleaned up, okay? I'll make you a nice warm coffee and you'll be as good as new I promise." Rhys offered in a sympathetic tone.

Rebecca swiped with a snarl at the kind, outstretched, hands of Rhys. Staring at him with a hateful expression as he jumped back in surprise. Her expression immediately softened back into the saddened one she held earlier, as she wept some more and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.

"You're friends with Alaric, right? Close friends?" Her shaky voice came out, brimming with hope, like Rhys held all the answers to all the problems in the world.

"As close as anyone can get to Alaric, yes." He responded with a nod. If it had been a week ago, he wouldn't of been able to say such a thing with confidence. He and Alaric had always had a relationship where the few words that were involved were usually an insult of some kind. Rhys had always considered them friends. Just not close friends.

"I was close with him. Which means... If you're close too..." Rebecca began, slowly turning to reveal her hand gripping tightly to a small pocket knife. "That means he let you drink from him."

Rhys' eyes widened and he began to take cautionary steps backwards, while holding his arms up in a placating manner.

"No, I haven't drunk from Alaric, I swear. Rebecca. Don't do anything stupid." He said, attempting it to sound like a warning, as his eyes darted back and fourth from the knife in her hands and the maddening expression her eyes held. The pupils small and searching.

"Liar!" She yelled, as Rhys spun around and made for the door. He felt the hand of Rebecca grip tightly to his shoulder, and in one simple movement: she launched him into the back wall. Her strength bolstered by whatever remnants of Alaric's blood still remained in her system.

Rhys gasped at the blinding pain as he felt a few ribs splinter from the impact, and his head bounced off the concrete. His vision immediately began to spin and blur into a sickening haze as he struggled to cling on to both his consciousness and his breath.

He briefly saw the figure of Rebecca lunging forward with spine chilling silence, his body reacting on instinct thanks to the practice Alice had been teaching him; and Rhys managed to bring his hands up, using his forearms to get inside Rebecca's guard, he deflected the knife hand to the side as his arms locked around her mid-rift. Summoning all of his strength: he lifted, spun, and slammed. Crunching her form against the wall and onto the floor.

Rebecca let out a scowl in pain as she easily pushed Rhys off of her with a kick of her legs.

Rhys used the small distance to begin scrambling away, pumping his legs and clawing at the ground in an attempt to pull himself along the floor. He felt Rebecca grab hold on to his ankle and before he could shake her off, she yanked hard. His nails spiked with pain as they scraped against the concrete, before he was flipped over onto his back.

Rebecca clambered up Rhys' body before straddling his waist and using both hands, raised the knife above her head. She brought the blade down with force, Rhys only just managing to catch it at her arms and stopping it inches from his shoulder, as he tried to use his hips to shift her weight off of him.

Rebecca pushed with all her otherworldly might, as Rhys' arms began to burn with the agonising resistance. His own strength began to dwindle: he started to scream as the keen edge of the blade inched closer and closer.

Rhys cried out for help as the knife hovered centimetres from his flesh, before his arms gave out completely and the blade plunged deep in to his skin.

Rebecca ripped the knife from his body, the shock causing Rhys to fall silent, his eyes lazily following the gout of his blood that ejected from the wound. Rebecca dove upon it immediately, lapping at the grim slit with all the ravenous abandon of a starving animal.

Using her current preoccupation, and while consciousness still held him: Rhys stealthily began to grope blindly for anything he could use as a weapon. His fingers found purchase around a plastic bottle of some kind, which he clutched like his life depended on it. Gripping the handle he turned it towards Rebecca and squeezed, spraying the mystery contents into Rebecca's eyes and face. Rebecca sprung up with a shriek as she pawed at her face in an attempt to wipe whatever it was away from her vision.

"What the fuck is going on in here!?" The Cafe manager burst into the room with a slam of the door. The usual kindly expression her elderly face held, immediately dropped into one of shock and terror at the sight; as Rebecca barrelled passed her with a snarl, sending the manager sprawling to the floor and was gone.

Rhys shakily stood to his feet using the shelving to help him up. Out of interest of what exactly it was that caused such a reaction: he gave a cursory look at the spray bottle in his hand. However, upon discovering that it was without a label, he tossed it the ground and hurried over to help the fallen manager off the ground.

It hurt to breathe, but he did his best to ignore his injuries. Making sure to hide his discomfort as best he could.

"Are you okay?" He asked the clearly shaken, Sharon who was still trying to bring herself to understand what had happened.

"I'm alright dear, what in goodness gracious was that all about?" She asked as she did her best to catch her breath.

"I think it was a junkie or something. Thank you for coming in when you did, I'm pretty sure they would've killed me without you." Unlike Marshal, Rhys was a competent liar. His usual indifferent demeanour made it seem like he wouldn't put in the effort, but that only served to make it all the more convincing.

"What is this town coming to...Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Sharon asked in surprise, thankfully not noticing the blood that Rhys had managed to hide by slinging his work apron over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. But I'd like to go home if that's okay."

"Yes, yes of course, go." Sharon said with a concerned smile, and after Rhys insisted on cleaning up the closet first, she walked him to the front of the cafe and watched as he walked down the road.

When he was sure he was out of sight, Rhys pulled out his phone and opened the group text:

'Rebecca just tried to kill me. Den? Also, might pass out due to blood loss, so can someone come pick me up?'

A/N: Rhys got attacked! You may be wondering: well if all the group are supernatural in someway, then why didn't Rhys use whatever his power is and fight back? There is a reason for that, and don't worry, I'm planning on a small glimpse of what Rhys can do in the next chapter!

Anyway: Thank you for reading! ^-^