Author Games: Empty Night

Task Two Entries: Immortal

Mal Lilystone

Mal scanned the faces filling the crowded room in search of someone familiar. Hope was not something she often equipped into her arsenal, but upon spotting the face of an old friend it seemed to blossom deep inside of her anyways. She wanted to call out to him, to invite him over to her little safety zone but when she opened her mouth she found she couldn't utter a single syllable and direct it towards him.

Can I trust him? His entire existence is based on a quest for power and here we are investigating the death of someone who seemed to hoard it.

She doubted he would want to talk to her, anyways. The last time they met he seemed to be less interested in her company and more intrigued by the fangs perpetually distorting the shape of her mouth.

Leo is not a bad guy.

She had to remind herself that he hadn't ever intentionally done anything wrong, but had done so out of the madness that had a tight hold on his soul. This fact did not make her try to catch his attention.

They'd been waiting for what felt like days at this point. You see, reanimation was a tricky magic and with someone as powerful as Dorian it would only hold for a limited time. That being said, too many Others had shown up to investigate to throw everyone in a room with him and let them bombard him with questions. To make it fair they'd had to do it in sessions. One group went in for roughly ten minutes, and then Dorian rested for an hour or so.

Every time he was reanimated again she could sense his agitation grow inside of him. She was not too thrilled to have been picked to go with the last group, but she was here to serve a purpose and that she would not abandon.

The man standing guard at the door checked his watch before nodding his head and calling out for the last group to file into the bedchamber.

Mal sighed softly as she pushed her way through the crowd and entered the room; taking in the grisly sight around her. The entire décor was in shambles, the walls littered with scorch marks that tinted the white paint a sooty gray, and a reanimated corpse tiredly awaiting another bombardment of questions. His face was contorted in a combination of exhaustion and frustration, but it was still beautiful nonetheless.

Being raised from the dead was bad when it was only once. I can't imagine having to do it so many times in one day when I wouldn't do it again for another millennium. She empathized with his haggard appearance and slumped, tired shoulders. She had been the exact same way when she was first turned into a Vampire.

"We are the last group, after this you'll be able to rest and then we will figure out who did this to you," Mal used a common trait amongst vampires to speak to Dorian and Dorian only; knowing it was risky, but hoping to put him at least a little more at ease. His eyes caught hers as he looked around the room, and his lips twitched into a small smile as he nodded his head and brushed off the dejected posture of his rotting corpse.

"Go ahead, ask your questions," a sputtering slew of coughs erupted from his throat and he had to wrap his arms around his abdomen to keep his bowels from falling to the floor, "we don't have much time,"

As she tried to formulate a good question to ask, Mal looked about the room and took a mental inventory of the placement of every single object and burn mark. A flash of silver drew her gaze to the place on the floor right beside the bedpost and while her skin itched at the idea of having to touch it, she knew that whatever it was could be a key piece of solving this puzzle.

She focused back on the conversation happening in front of her and started taking notes in her journal.

The cut on his abdomen is clean, the killer is practiced with a weapon.