Niszczyciel (Hemlock Grove)

Homecoming

No sooner had we left I regretted my outfit choice. My dress wouldn't stop riding up my thighs as I drove and I'd caught Peter gawking at my bare thigh on more than one occasion. He couldn't seem to get used to the fact I was wearing a dress, let alone a skin tight one. Deciding that confrontation may only make things awkward, I chose not to comment on the matter.

I parked in the back of the school parking lot as usual, cutting the engine and looking over at Peter. As eager as I was to get into the dance, there was something that had been bugging me.

"What happened? With Roman." I asked Peter outright, receiving a smirk. Peter shifted in his seat so that he was facing me.

"Why? You jealous Little Red?" I was, but I would sooner cut out my tongue before admitting it to him. I rolled my eyes, reaching for the door handle. "He just asked me about my dad." I stopped, turning back, "and he told me about his, that was it." I raised an eyebrow and Peter continued, "and some shit about how being raised by a single mother makes you more sensitive to girls." I cracked a smile, reaching over to jokingly pinch Peter's cheek.

"Aww, Peter." I cooed.

"Right? I told him I'm a sensitive guy." It was probably the biggest load of bullshit to spill from his mouth yet and we both knew it, which was why we were laughing almost hysterically as we stepped out of the car.

Eyes were instantly on us as students made their way inside to the dance. One group of girls actually went as far as to gasp as they'd seen us and I couldn't resist giving them a devilish grin as I waved.

"I hope you're enjoying this." Peter whispered down to me, glancing around at the students as they continued to stare. I was, I couldn't deny that.

Inside, the gym had been horribly transformed into a dance with cheap balloons and poor lighting. Somewhere in the back a smoke machine was about to give out as the smoke was too thin to amount to anything but a slight haze. Peter and I stood in the doorway for a moment taking in the scene. Pirates, Egyptians, and a few hippies danced around us in a trance.

A lot more people than I'd expected had shown up. I could feel the heat from their bodies encompassing me and whatever had been in that bottle, bubbled in my stomach. I was going to be sick.

"Peter," I began, placing a hand over my stomach as I watched the students dance. Blood began oozing from their eyes, their noses, their ears, everywhere and they all smiled. I must have been the only one to see it it though because while I was horrified, Peter simply looked bored. I felt the liquid rise in the back of my throat. "I'll be right back." I quickly informed Peter, slapping my hand over my mouth as I pushed my way past a bumblebee, in an almost full on run for the restrooms.

"Nisa?" I heard Peter call after me as I rushed through the doors.

No sooner had I made it to the toilet, the liquid my father had left me shot out from my mouth, staining the toilet bowl a blood red. My insides were on fire as they rejected what I assumed to be the synthetic blood my father had promised. Something had been telling me it wouldn't have been that easy to find a solution.

Another wave of nausea rushed over me as I vomited what was left in my stomach into the toilet before flushing. I could feel the sweat on my forehead, probably ruining what little makeup I'd actually put on.

I was thirsty again, the burning dryness had returned the instant my stomach settled, worse than before I had drunk the red liquid. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before pulling myself up off of the floor. It had been a mistake to come to this dance, especially to drag Peter with me.

Since we'd confided in each other, I'd yet to explain the extent to which I liked blood. Peter had promised to show me his transformation on the full moon, which wasn't for another couple days, but he still believed I was just some nutcase that got turned on at the sight of blood. I took all of his jokes in stride, choosing to let him believe that rather than the truth.