Worlds Across

Chapter 4: Guess we aren't saving Ragnillon

We finally make it to the van, and let me tell you, we’re a sight. Draco’s knuckles are basically ground beef, Tony’s leaning against the side like he’s forgotten how legs work, and Matt... well, Matt’s still convinced he's a vampire. And yes, I know, that sounds ridiculous, but ever since that little “blood-drinking” incident in the tavern, he’s been acting like he's just signed up for the “Undead Lifestyle” newsletter. Sage and I? We’re the only ones who didn’t completely lose it tonight, which, honestly, is nothing short of a miracle.

And of course, there’s Tata, chilling in the van like the king he is, licking himself without a care in the world. If there’s one constant in this universe, it’s that Tata will always act like we don’t exist.

I climb into the driver’s seat because, let’s face it, I’m the only one who should be behind the wheel right now. Draco’s too busy looking like he wants to punch the windshield, Tony’s probably going to vomit if he tries to focus on anything, and Matt… well, Matt is still muttering something about eternal darkness and “joining the ranks of the night.” Yeah, we’re definitely not letting that guy drive.

Before we pull out, I turn around and shout to the peanut gallery in the back, “Oh, and by the way, I’m eating the rest of your chips! You don’t deserve them after that mess!” Tony groans and slumps over, mumbling, “Those were mine…” but he’s in no state to argue. The sound of crinkling chip bags signals the beginning of my victory snack. Justice is served.

So, we hit the road, driving toward the mountains, where we’ve heard it’s all quiet and uninhabited. A perfect place to lay low, lick our wounds, and maybe figure out how to not die in the next 24 hours. But, spoiler alert: nothing is ever that easy. You’ve read this far, you know how things go for us. No smooth sailing allowed.

As we’re driving, Matt’s still back there, staring out the window like a goth kid who just discovered Hot Topic. “Guys,” he says, voice all deep and mysterious, “I can feel the darkness calling to me.”

“Dude, you’re not a vampire,” I snap back. “You just drank some random bartender’s blood. That doesn’t make you a creature of the night. It makes you disgusting.”

But Matt, being the lovable idiot he is, shakes his head solemnly. “You wouldn’t understand. The night speaks to me now.”

I roll my eyes so hard I think I pull a muscle. Sage snorts, completely unamused. “The night is about to speak to you through a swift punch to the face if you keep this up,” she mutters.

Eventually, we reach the mountains. Or, more accurately, we think we’ve reached the middle of nowhere. I’m feeling pretty good about this plan. Quiet, isolated—perfect spot to regroup and pretend we aren’t wanted criminals in like, five dimensions.

But here’s the kicker: this place? Not uninhabited. Nope. Turns out, we’ve driven straight into some kind of vampire village. Yeah, you heard me right—vampires. And not the sexy, brooding, sparkly kind either. More like “I sleep in a coffin and probably haven’t showered in 300 years” kind of vibe.

We all get out of the van, staring up at the gothic-looking towers and creepy, misty streets. Matt, who I remind you is not actually a vampire, is grinning from ear to ear like he just found his long-lost relatives. “Guys! My people!” he shouts, spreading his arms wide like he’s about to give the whole mountain a big hug.

“Dude,” I start, trying not to lose my patience. “Just because you drank some blood doesn’t mean you’re a vampire. That’s not how it works. This isn’t a ‘Twilight’ fanfiction.”

But Matt isn’t listening. He’s too busy walking toward the village, calling out, “Brothers! Sisters! I have come home!”

Sage gives me a look that says, “I am so done with this,” and I can’t blame her. This whole day has been one long train wreck after another. Tony, somehow sobered up enough to make sense of things, just sighs. “So, uh… do we follow him or…?”

Before anyone can answer, Draco grunts and starts stomping after Matt. “If he gets us killed, I’m punching his soul right out of his body.”

We follow Matt into the village, which—surprise!—is full of actual vampires. They’re just standing around, doing vampire things, which apparently includes looming dramatically in doorways and looking like they haven’t seen the sun in centuries. It’s all very spooky.

Matt, naturally, doesn’t notice the part where these vampires look like they want to eat us. No, he’s too busy prattling on about “embracing the darkness” and “finally belonging.”

One of the vampires steps forward, eyeing Matt like he’s trying to figure out if this idiot is for real. “You,” the vampire hisses, his voice all raspy and ancient, “are not one of us.”

Matt gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like he’s been personally insulted. “But I drank the blood!” he exclaims, sounding like a kid who just got told he can’t join the cool kids’ club. “Doesn’t that mean I’m one of you now?”

The vampire looks at him like he just told a really bad joke. “No. It means you’re an idiot.”

Draco, who’s been watching this whole exchange with mounting frustration, steps forward, cracking his knuckles. “Okay, I’ve had enough of this. Can we leave before these guys decide to snack on us?”

But Matt, bless his dumb little heart, isn’t giving up. “Wait! I can prove myself!” He looks around wildly, like he’s searching for something to impress these very unimpressed vampires with. And then he spots Tata, lounging in the van’s open window, still licking his paws. “Look! I even have a familiar!” Matt points at Tata like this is some kind of grand revelation.

The vampires all look at the cat. Tata looks back, completely uninterested in whatever drama is unfolding. He yawns.

The head vampire, clearly done with this nonsense, waves a hand dismissively. “Take your idiot and leave, or we will drain you dry.”

“Okay, you heard the man,” I say quickly, grabbing Matt by the collar and dragging him back toward the van. “Time to go!”

“But—” Matt starts, still trying to appeal to his imaginary vampire brethren.

“NOPE,” I say firmly, shoving him into the van. “You’re not a vampire, you’re not joining a cult, and you’re definitely not staying here. Get in the van.”

Draco slams the door shut behind us, and I don’t waste any time peeling out of there. As we speed away from Vampire Town, Matt sulks in the backseat, muttering, “I could’ve been the chosen one…”

Tony, from the other side of the van, just shakes his head. “Dude, you’re not even the chosen one in this van.”

And that’s when Tata decides to let out a perfectly timed, unimpressed meow, just to drive the point home.

So, yeah. We survived the vampire village. Barely. And no, Matt’s still not a vampire. He’s just an idiot. But hey, at least we got out of there before someone lost a limb, right?