XVII: YOU FINGERED A VAMPIRE!

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[ ━━ ❝ ✧˚⋆。☾✩˚⋆。࿐❞ ━━ ]CAIN

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[ ━━ ˚☾✩˚ ━━ ]
CAIN

            I LEAVE MEREDITH the second she stops crying. Walking around the burned remains of Vic's home feels like I'm a ghost phasing through the history of someone else's life. Someone who fought in some great war. Someone who lived in a time when smoke and fire and death were just another day at the office. The neighborhood's been destroyed, flattened and burned like a fire tornado swept through. Other than the select few, like Vic, who managed to survive up until this point, against all odds, there aren't any dead bodies. There wasn't any people left to kill.

            It's like I'm the last person left alive.

            I left my dad and Rachel in the middle of the street a couple feet from Vic. Rachel'd been knocked unconscious, my dad's face badly burned. He'd just been sitting there, her head resting in his lap, the most haunted look on his face. I find them there again, Bianca and Avani having had joined them in my absence. Rachel's just starting to wake up.

            I'm keeping a bullet-point list in my head of all my friends and what state they seem to be in.

            ✩ Vic - dead

            ✩ Meredith - no visible injuries, possibly in shock

            ✩ Rachel - unconscious but waking up, probably from the gaping wound on her forehead

            ✩ Avani - coughing/wheezing, no visible injuries

            ✩ Dad - a second degree burn (?) on the left side of his face, stretching from his eyebrow down to the center of his neck

            ✩ Bianca - limping badly on her left food, no other visible injuries

            ✩ Atlas - MIA

            ✩ Silas - MIA

            ✩ Maya - MIA

            ✩ Callie - MIA

            I'm trying very hard to not worry about the last four, distracting myself with the people around me. Avani's attached herself to my dad's side, probably because he's the next best thing to Rachel. Speak of the devil. She's sitting up now, her eyes cloudy, absently rubbing at her forehead. The wound inches up to her hairline, blood rolling like sweat down the side of her face and plastering her babyhairs to her skin.

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