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"So, I'll be writing 'occult human-trafficking' and 'human sacrificing' on the police report?"
Morgan lived a normal life besides the fact that she'd never known her parents. She had a shoebox apartment not far from the café in Brooklyn where she...
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Morgan Monteith ✵
When Alaric had returned Morgan home to the boarding house she went directly to her room to change outfit and get out of those torture devices that Damon had claimed to be 'shoes'.
Morgan had never been very social, so the event they had been at today had tired her out completely. In fact her eyes closed, ready for a well deserved nap as soon as she landed on the mattress of her bed.
About five blissful minutes went by, and Morgan was almost asleep, when a loud crash downstairs, followed by some commotion made her eyes fly open in alarm. She was quick to reach for the kitchen knife under her pillow only to sigh annoyed as she found nothing. She'd never actually returned it after the minor incident with the werewolf.
Morgan scanned through her room for another weapon until her eyes rested upon a big scissor on the desk. It was antique and probably displayed there as a part of an old sewing kit or something, but it looked sharp enough.
With a weapon now in hand, Morgan ventured out of her room and downstairs where she'd heard the noise come from. "Damon?" She called softly, just above a whisper, knowing he'd hear her anyway.
"Whew! Damn you're strong. It took the whole syringe." Morgan cringed as she saw Damon laying on the floor unconscious along with Alaric, while some guy stood above them, a big victorious grin on his face.
Morgan caught Damon's eyes briefly before more people entered the hall and she hid around the corner.
"Hey Damon, nice to see you again." A woman stated sarcastically as she swung her shotgun threateningly over her shoulder. "Grab that one, he's dead." The guy who'd been there the whole time said pointing to Alaric.
"Don't touch him!" Morgan yelled concerned as she stepped out and got in a defensive position before his body. There was no way in hell that she would let them move him before she'd checked if he was really dead. She refused to believe that the guy had spoken the truth. Alaric was probably just knocked out. Hopefully.
"And who's this? Yesterday's dinner?" The woman asked Damon mockingly as she stepped on his back with her boot. "What are you? Vampires?" Morgan asked not backing down. The documentaries on wildlife which Morgan shamelessly watched, always explained that the predators attack as soon as the prey show any weakness or sign of running. So she didn't.
"Werewolves." The woman said smirking wildly as Morgan froze for a second. Flashbacks from yesterday night and her first kill rushing over her like shockwaves. "—I take it by your reaction that you got our message yesterday, that explains why there's missing one. How's that bite treating your brother?" The woman said directing the first part to Morgan and the last to Damon.
