Widow

We reached the country house and got out. 
The bullet wounds would heal as soon as the bullets were removed, which meant I had to get the lead pieces out first. It was a little difficult on the back, but it would be fine. 
"Where do you have your bathroom?", I asked, addressing Jennifer as we entered the house. The group of agents split up to take position in front of the house.
"I'll show you in a minute, we have to report to my father first," she said, and before I even lifted my eyes I heard Jonas Duman come rumbling up the stairs.
"Jennifer!" he said with relief, hugging her as he arrived in the house. I rolled my eyes. 
She was unharmed and of sound mind, so no need to make such a palaver.
"Don't bother, I'll find it on my own," I then muttered and tried to make my way out as unnoticed as possible. However, I was held by Jonas' arm. I quickly wriggled out of his grip.
"Yo, don't touch me," I said, glaring at him sullenly. 
"You're not going anywhere until I hear what's been going on at the factory," he said, pointing to a room door. I raised my eyebrows. 
"Jennifer has a mouth and was in her right mind at the pivotal moments. Besides, I doubt you'll give my words any more credence than hers, am I not right?"
"And who's going to answer for the shit you pulled?" he also asked with raised eyebrows, "My son already informed me about the massacre there."
"If you want me to take out the trash, tell me. One phone call and no one will find a trace of blood or bodies," I said, annoyed. I wouldn't pull out the cell phone now to demonstrate that I had a way to make a call. They would confiscate it sooner or later anyway. But why should I take the chance?
I also had to let my employer know that I would only be able to work sporadically. At least as long as I was stuck here with these weirdos.
"And the people in the basement? Do you have an explanation for that?" asked Jonas, annoyed.
"Yeah sure, the prisoners down there in the basement were my doing. I'm in cahoots with them. The whole thing was simply a maneuver to gain your trust. Besides that, I like getting shot in the back. And now I'm just trying to get close enough to the big Jonas Duman to get his head and a lot of money," I rolled my eyes as they looked at me skeptically, "I'm not into that shit. You can think of a nice punishment while I wash off the blood.", with a dismissive hand gesture I went upstairs. These people only saw what they wanted to see anyway. That I had killed a few people I would not deny. Nor how I had killed them. But why should I have an explanation for the fact that masses of people were imprisoned there?
"He's been like this all along," Jenny murmured softly to her family members. If I hadn't known better, I could hear concern coming from her voice. 
"You mean since we picked him up? I bet he just..." put in Max, but I turned into another wing of the house to avoid hearing what he was saying too. Except for the fact that I didn't care what rumors this bottle started.
I opened the first available door and found myself in a room whose furnishings were completely covered with sheets. Almost as if this house had not been in use for years.
My gaze lingered on a few bright rectangles that stood out against the yellowed wallpaper. So pictures had hung here after all. I wondered for a moment if I should risk searching the drawers of the covered furniture, but decided to do so later. If they were listening to Jenny's version, someone would come and ask me to confirm something. I was really curious, but closed the door and continued my search in silence.
A few dusty, almost empty rooms later, I found a bathroom that was surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the house. I checked to see if there was hot water and looked to see if there were any nail scissors or tweezers flying around. Somehow I had to get the remaining bullets out of the wounds. 
Since I had been drinking blood, some bullets had probably already grown quite a bit out of the wound, but the rest had to be removed as well. Starting with the one that was lodged in my side and causing an uncomfortable sting.
Searching through the sink cabinet, I found a pair of tweezers and a wash bowl to run warm water into. Then I set to work with a sigh. 

After about half an hour I had all the bullets out and decided to take a shower to wash off the dried blood crusts. I had already found the towels in one of the closets and had already put one out. The only problem was that I didn't have a change of clothes. 
I tried to wash the bloody top out a bit at the sink so it wouldn't stick as much. However, the red staining was impossible to get out of the white cotton. I was just holding it up to look at the damage again when there was a knock. 
Closing my eyes, I gathered energy for a moment before going to the door and opening it. 
Duman Senior was standing in front of the bathroom door with his arms crossed.
As soon as I opened it, he eyed me piercingly. 
"What?", I asked unnerved when he still didn't say anything after a minute. 
"Jennifer told me everything so far," he said curtly. 
"Give her a medal for that and leave me alone," I said and was about to close the door again, but Jonas jammed his shoe into the crack. Slowly I lifted my gaze from his foot to his face. He looked at me expressionlessly. So did I.
"This isn't your house, and you're not here to take a vacation or act like dirt, vampire," he said coldly, studying my reaction.
This game, then.
I snorted. 
"And you think I'd think this is fun on the beach?", I asked, raising my eyebrows with a feigned laugh. I opened the door and waited for him to remove his foot, however he didn't budge an inch.
"Listen-" he began angrily, but interrupted himself, shaking his head slightly and pulling his foot back in a closing manner; "There's probably not much point in arguing with someone like you about decorum."
"Probably not," I growled, pressing my lips together. I wasn't even getting into that kind of discussion. If he thought he knew what made me tick, then I might as well save myself the energy it took to teach him better.
I was about to close the door again when he put his hand on the door and looked me straight in the eye. 
"What now?", I wanted to know annoyed. 
"When did you stop?" he asked me, and I saw pity in his gaze. 
In a mixture of anger and confusion, I frowned.
"Stop? With what?", I replied, pulling the corners of my mouth back in the face of his pitying look. It didn't sit well with me that this emotion was real. Did I look like I wanted pity?!
'N proper bundle of green shine would be much more appropriate than that.
"To fight prejudice with that."
I stared at him.
He had found the nerve and struck it.
I was momentarily wanting to act emotional, but then I shook my head with a smile. 
"Is there any point in wasting energy and time on each person anew when I won't run into them for more than a few days anyway?", I asked instead. 
"I guess so," Jonas said, looking at me expectantly for a moment. I sighed, leaning against the doorframe and eyeing him.
"Do you think I'm going to cry and pour my heart out to you now? If so, you really are even dumber than I thought. I don't intend to linger here any longer than I have to. And since I don't plan to change my profession in the short term, logically speaking, I won't reveal anything that you could hang another rope around my neck for.", I said coldly, pushing myself away from the door frame again and closing the door before he could say anything back. 
"I'll have some clean clothes brought to you and placed outside the bathroom door. After that, I want to hear your side of the story.", Jonas then said unabashedly and I heard him leave. I shook my head again, went to the shower and turned on the water. Before I understood this man's behavior, the world was probably going to end. 

Jonas

"When did you stop?", I asked him. I couldn't help but hide the pity I felt for him. For how many years had he probably resigned himself to the fact that there was no point in fighting these blind prejudices that were harbored against his species.
"With what?" he frowned in confusion and his eyes narrowed. 
"With going against the prejudices," I explained, realizing that he had not been able to follow my train of thought. For a moment, looking into his eyes, I saw his facade crumble, but only so briefly that I couldn't even guess what was going on inside him. Then he shook his head with a smile. A reaction with which I had not expected so.
"Is there any point in wasting energy and time on each person anew when I won't run into them for more than a few days anyway?" he asked me, and I realized that he had probably tried it many times before. 
"I guess so," I replied quietly.
There was always someone somewhere who would listen and understand. He just had to have run into the wrong people until now. I knew from my previous profession as a vampire hunter what the bloodthirsty side of this species looked like.
Better than anyone else. But I had also often encountered vampires who were the complete opposite and were ashamed of that side. I couldn't tell exactly what kind Widow belonged to yet, though. He sighed and leaned against the doorframe in front of me. 
"Do you think I'm going to cry and pour my heart out to you now? If so, you really are even dumber than I thought. I don't intend to linger here any longer than I have to. And since I don't plan to change my profession in the short term, logically speaking, I won't reveal anything that you could hang another rope around my neck for." with these words he considered this conversation to be over and closed the door. 
Tough nut to crack. Until we cracked that one, he was no help to us. In this matter we needed someone we could trust and at the moment we couldn't. Even though Jenny had assured me of that again earlier. The biggest problem was that we didn't have too much time. There were things that posed a serious threat and in the meantime there were also too many murders that were obviously caused by vampires. My company was trying to cover these up, but it was worrisome. Either these vampires were deliberately turning to the public, or there was a wave of newborn vampires of the lowest class. The class to which vampires were assigned when they acted more like predators, assassinating without rhyme or reason because they couldn't fight their instincts. All far from the question of whether they were hungry or not.
"I'll have some clean clothes brought to you and placed outside the bathroom door. After that, I want to hear your side of the story," I then said, turning away from the bathroom door and leaving. To check his credibility, I needed to see to what extent the versions of what happened matched. I went downstairs and directed someone to go into town to buy some clothes. 
"As quickly as possible, if you can," I asked one of my employees and went back into the small room where I had interviewed my daughter earlier. She was upstairs now to rest.  
The latest events had taken a toll on her.
And even though she had assured me that Widow had already saved her life again, I was still skeptical. With her death, he would have lost credibility here and we would have held him responsible for her death as a matter of course. And I was sure that he was aware of that. So I rather assumed that he had not done it because he wanted to save a life, but because it had simply been a logical decision. Anyway, we needed to know who we were dealing with here. And there were protocols, unfortunately, that I had to follow in a case like this. I picked up the phone and made a call. The sooner this matter was settled, the better. 

Widow

After I showered, I grabbed the clothes that were, as said, outside the door. I calmly got ready. I consciously avoided looking in the mirror. Then I went back downstairs. I didn't have much choice. Of course, they wanted to check whether I was trustworthy. And therefore I also had to comment on what had happened.
Just the thought of this cooperation caused me to gag dry.
Maybe it hadn't been noticed yet, but I didn't think much of the whole affair here.
Hopefully Jennifer hadn't downplayed the events. That would be a hindrance, because the statements would then no longer correspond. But they could save themselves the exact details. Also questions concerning me or my past. 
I went to the room Duman Sr. had pointed to before I went into the bathroom. Demotivated, I opened the door. I took a searching look inside to see if this was the right room.
And bingo. 
Jonas was standing at the window and now turned around. 
"Go ahead and sit down, we're still waiting for someone. Won't be long before he gets here," he said, looking out the window again. I eyed him suspiciously. Who else would we have to wait for to make this statement? The law enforcement officer? 
However, I didn't ask a question and sat down on one of the chairs without a word. It was a really small room. White, empty walls. As empty as all the walls in this house. However, with one exception. Here hung an annoying loud ticking clock. Quarter past eleven. 
So I must have been awake all night.
Also nothing new for a vampire. A table stood in the middle, each with two chairs on the opposite sides. I had dropped down on the left side. Jonas stood on the right.
A small sideboard was against the wall on the right. On it stood a coffee machine, a few clean cups on a rag, as well as a pot of milk and a pot of sugar. 
I turned my gaze away from the cups and also looked out the window, which was centered on the wall and this directly above the table.
After twenty minutes, I saw a car pull over and a man in a suit and a briefcase got out.
I frowned. Were they trying to sell me a washing machine now?
Jonas left the room briefly to receive the man and then returned together with him. 
"Good afternoon. Widow, right?" the man asked, holding out his hand to me. I tilted my head, eyed his hand, and slowly crossed my arms to make it clear that I had no intention of taking it.
"And you are?", I asked with a skeptical look at Jonas, who remained in the background. 
"I'm Dr. Morses, I'm conducting your psychological report" the man said. I suppressed a laugh and covered the rising anger with an icy smile. 
"You certainly won't," I said calmly. 
This was ridiculous. Hadn't I said earlier that I wouldn't tell them anything about myself here?
"I'm just going to ask some questions. Whether you answer or not is your choice, but I'm obligated to," Morses said, sitting down across from me. I glanced again at Jonas. He was leaning against the sideboard, also with his arms crossed. His face was expressionless, but still I could almost make out a slight amusement from his gaze. I wrinkled my nose a little and mumbered something, that could've been a curse, if I said it out loud. Actually, I should get up and leave. I didn't need to put myself through the circus. However, I remained seated, knowing that Jonas was carrying a gun, which he would probably use if I resisted.
So I watched silently as Dr. Morses took out a questionnaire and a pen.