Veil of Vladikovo ✓ (BxB)

One

Vladikovo was a peculiar town.

    Many said, "Old town, old secrets," to explain what happened there.

    "Forget this place even exists," many of the locals would say.

     Vladikovo wasn't marked on basically any map, despite being around for centuries prior.

     Nineteen-year-old Eviirs Rousseau continued to sit on the edge of his beaten down bed, just bouncing his leg up and down—-his gaze was locked directly on the ground.

    The orange, red, gold, and brown leaves gently danced about the sky outside.

     Eviirs drummed his fingers on the old, wooden frame of the bed.

      Vladikovo was fascinating to him—-despite there being basically no knowledge to the outside world of it.

   Eviirs grew up having an interest in oddities such as Vladikovo due to his mother.

    Eviirs' mother—-Catherine Rousseau—-had told Eviirs many stories of the paranormal—-whether it be ghosts, demons, or werewolves.

     Catherine never did seem to age.

     Eviirs had noted in his mind that his mother looked the exact same as she did when he was just a very small child.

      Many of the people Catherine conversed with chalked this fact up to "good genes"--matter of fact, many other women Catherine knew would ask her how she lucked out so much.

     Catherine, of course, would just shrug, saying it was a 'mystery' to her.

     Catherine had fangs—-Eviirs had noticed that when he was four-years-old.

     Catherine, despite being so forward about her ties to the paranormal, had never truly told Eviirs who she was.

     Eviirs didn't care about this fact though—-Eviirs didn't need his mother, Catherine, to confirm anything for him. Eviirs already had his hypothesis.

     His mother was a vampire—-he was very sure of that fact.

      Eviirs, himself, had found himself drooling over people having cuts and gashes; the red liquid looked oh so very appetizing to him.

      Everytime he was in a trance like that, he'd have to mentally yell at himself. Eviirs! Snap out of it!, he'd think to himself before a cycle of blinking several times.

    Eviirs got up from where he sat, pacing back and forth, running his hands back and forth through his dirty blonde hair. "Vladikovo," he began, whispering to himself. "What's your secret?"

     After twenty minutes or so, Eviirs stopped pacing; he came to a halt right in front of the rickety, old table parked right next to the fogged up window.

     The table was littered in countless parchments and references denoting all things based around Vladikovo—-many were old and tattered.

      Eviirs wormed his finger through the stack of marked up papers, gripping onto one of them, and pulling it out. Eviirs let his scarlet eyes glide across the paper—-his gaze lingering on every few words.

     Eviirs closed his eyes for the briefest moment, exhaling—-he continued to let his eyelids rest downward as he felt the rise and fall of his chest. His chest wasn't flat no matter how much he wanted it too be.

    Eviirs exhaled quickly before opening his eyes again.

     There was an accident in Vladikovo recently. A group of hunters went on a trip in the woods surrounding Vladikovo. The game? Elk.

     Unfortunately, something went wrong—-no one knew exactly what it was. Of the sixteen hunters who went to Vladikovo, only one survived—-a Palestinian man by the name of Aayan Shtayyeh.

      Eviirs looked out of the foggy window once again—-he'd be departing from Paris to Vladikovo soon, meeting a few friends of his along the way.

      As the young man continued to watch the shadows outside the window, he said, "Aayan Shtayyeh… I'll see you soon."