evildarliing

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TJ MIKELOGAN's HALLOWEEN 2024 EVENT day 9, horror movie soundtrack: ABIGAIL (2024)

[evildarliing]

TJ MIKELOGAN's HALLOWEEN 2024 EVENT DAY 7: Vampires - Abigail (2024) dir. Tyler Gillett, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin

[evildarliing]

And Then There Were Two

Abigail (2024), but what if Sammy and Joey both survive together.

This was requested by @random19xxx.

Joey/Sammy, Vampire Sammy

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Joey’s night was really turning from bad to worse. First the child turned out to be a vampire, and now one of her colleagues for the night had been turned into a puppet for the enemy and was chasing her and Frank through the halls of the decrepit, labyrinthine mansion they were trapped in. She was feeling more and more like a mouse chased by an increasingly large number of stray cats rather than the hardened criminal she was supposed to be. 

Joey’s heart hammered by the time they reached the large library, relief flooding her and the equally out-of-breath ex-cop beside her when the sunlight streaming in through the windows in the room finally reached them. They slowed and turned around to the monster chasing them, seeing if she would follow. Sammy too slowed down when she came into the room. Joey felt unsure if it was because of the sunlight or because she knew its last slivers would fade soon and they would be trapped. She certainly looked like she had all the time in the world to play with them and make them dread what was to come. 

“I’ve always hated this room. My father turned me in here,” Sammy drawled leisurely, one hand running along the columns. “Lots of painful memories.” She smiled. “But it’s never too late to make new ones.” The young woman darted forward, and Joey reacted almost reflexively, yanking a polished silver tray off a table beside her and holding it up into one of the fading rays of daylight, redirecting the light at the approaching vampire.

A loud yelp resounded, and blood as well as bits of flesh came flying their way, covering parts of them. Joey released a small breath and glanced past the silver tray she had been shielding her face from the flying vampire viscera with, some of the tension leaving her body as she realised that it had worked and Sammy was at the very least no longer heading their way. She saw, however, that Sammy was still alive, missing the entirety of her left arm and part of her shoulder, drenched in her own blood. It was baffling to see someone still stand upright with a wound like that, but despite being able to withstand damage as extensive as this, vampires still evidently felt pain. Grimacing and clutching at her wrecked shoulder, Sammy stumbled over to hide behind one of the columns to shield herself from any more reflected daylight and screamed through gritted teeth. A string of curses followed her muffled screams, which Joey wasn’t sure if they belonged to Sammy or her puppeteer Abigail.

“You know you can’t hurt me,” Sammy sang from behind the column. “All you’re doing is hurt poor, sweet Sammy.”

“If she’s even still in there,” Joey muttered.

“Oh, she is,” Sammy assured. “She’s being very mouthy in her head right now. She has such colourful vocabulary.”

“You know that if she annoys you so much, you could just let her go,” Joey snarled.

“Hm, no. I think I’ll keep her.” She glanced past the column and seemed to decide that a one-armed fight in the current situation was not worth it to sacrifice her pawn over. “The sunlight won’t protect you forever, you know. See you in, say, half an hour.” She withdrew to the door, keeping a careful eye on Joey for any sudden movements, but Joey didn’t make any. She had no desire to harm Sammy if she didn’t have to. Although, she wasn’t entirely certain that it was still Sammy under the puppetry, even without any of Abigail’s influence.

Sammy vanished out through the door and back into the darker recesses of the sprawling mansion, leaving Joey and Frank behind uneasily. Their uneasiness, however, did not remain undisturbed for very long as Lambert lured them into a hidden backroom within the bones of the house only a moment later, revealing to them the full extent of the setup they had found themselves caught in this night and offering both of them a deal, seeking to turn them into monsters themselves, team up, and take down the Lady of the house, making off with the spoils. Joey immediately knew she would never say yes to the deal. Frank, however, had very different ideas.

That’s how she found herself a little later face-to-face with recently turned Frank, drenched in blood and being pushed through the wall back into the library, pretty sure she would never get to see her son ever again. Frank, immediately upon being turned, had turned on his sire, killing him within the first seconds of his un-life, drenching both himself and Joey in gallons of vampire blood, intent on being the only one who would make it out alive tonight. When Abigail had showed up shortly after that, he had not hesitated to sink his fangs into her neck too, for all intents and purposes looking as if he had killed her. In the moments that followed, Joey felt significantly more like a rag doll than a human. 

She felt his hand constrict around her throat, her back hitting one of the library’s shelves, shattering the wooden boards and undoubtedly leaving bruises she would still feel weeks from now. Suddenly, the weight of his hand around her throat disappeared and Frank went flying backwards across the room, crashing into a different wall and landing in a heap on the ground floor of the library, books and debris raining down on him. Joey found her footing with ease and looked up at the younger blonde woman who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere beside her, looking altogether very pleased with herself for throwing Frank around like a baseball. Her already short breath catching in her throat, Joey took a step away from Sammy as she turned towards her. The last thing she needed now was another vampire to join the fight over who got to drain her of her blood first. Undeterred however, Sammy got closer and put a hand on her arm that Joey tried to push off.

“You okay?”

“Stay the hell away from me,” Joey snapped and lunged for a stake beside her and was surprised that Sammy didn’t stop her. She just held up her arms and kept her distance. Her previously exploded arm had almost fully regrown by now. Only the skin still looked raw and patchy in places.

“The little demon’s hold on my mind vanished a few minutes ago.”

Still holding the stake out between them, she asked, “How can I trust you?”

“I just saved your life. I could have just let him squeeze the life out of you.”

As Joey considered her words and their truthfulness, she glanced down at Frank on the floor below, who was starting to get out from under the rubble and pushing himself onto his feet again. She decided if Sammy wanted to kill her or drain her, she would probably be trying to do it right now already, so she chose to believe her – for now. Joey bent over and braced her hands on her knees, slowly catching her breath and ignoring the ache in her bruised throat.

"You know you're kinda hot, all covered in blood," Sammy commented, her eyes raking over her form.

Joey stopped and glanced at her before releasing a noise between a chuckle and a scoff at the look in Sammy’s eyes that was a very different kind of “hungry”.

"Am I not a little too old for you?" she muttered with a raised brow, but could not suppress the slight smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Sammy looked unperturbed. "So?" she asked, still smiling obnoxiously and chewing on the corner of her lip with her canines. "It does look appetising," she went on, still letting her eyes roam over her drenched skin.

"Of course it does," Joey rolled her eyes. Sammy leaned closer, cocking her head a little and hovering over her. "Keep your fangs where I can see them," Joey snapped.

Sammy backed away diligently and held up both of her hands by her sides. “Jeez.”

They both straightened back up when they heard Frank, almost leisurely, come back up the stairs to the gallery, bits of plaster and wood splinters still clinging to his hair and clothes, holding a jagged piece of a wooden board in one hand.

“Sammy, you really should not have done that,” he sneered. “Or should I say Abigail.”

Sammy turned towards his voice and put on an unimpressed face. “Wow, Frank, you are surprisingly even uglier undead.”

Frank’s features twitched. “You think you’re funny, do you?” He held the piece of splintered wood up towards her. “You’re still just a spoiled little brat who doesn't know when it’s time to shut her stupid fucking mouth.”

Sammy shrugged. Frank darted forward, aiming the wood at her heart. Sammy was fast, faster than him, perhaps. At least her reflexes were good, catching his hands almost with ease. She held him back, but she was struggling. He was stronger than her. It was evident. Maybe it was because he had been turned differently, not by a simple bite, but by drinking an actual vampire’s blood. But in the net total, she was clearly losing. Joey decided to get involved and stabbed her stake towards his heart, and to avoid it, Frank let off of Sammy to avoid his untimely death. Sammy stumbled backwards and steadied herself quickly, rubbing at her throat. 

This, unfortunately, drew his attention back to Joey, and he snapped forward, the back of his hand hitting across her cheekbone, making her gasp. Before she even had time to recover and look back up, his hand was back at her throat, and he jerked her around, her feet dangling without purchase, high up in the air over the edge of the gallery, glancing down at the drop below her, her hands scrabbling for purchase on his arm. It was hard trying to force air into her lungs as she watched him, his eyes trained at Sammy, an almost mocking glint in them, all of them knowing that if Sammy moved, Joey would drop and probably break several bones. Sammy did not move.

But Frank slowly turned back to Joey with a smile on his face, that she would have only loved to wipe off his stupid face, and dropped her.

She was vaguely aware of movement in the gallery but was too distracted by her fall to pay attention to either Frank or Sammy.

She had about one second to brace for the inevitable breaking of bones, readying herself to break the fall as best as she possibly could, but the crashing impact never came, instead landing softly, her fall unexpectedly feathered by a pair of arms that immediately let her go as she scrambled away from them and looked down at the little vampire ballerina in horror. One break from being cornered by vampires was all she wished for, but at least her bones were not broken yet.

The fight still continuing above, she listened to Abigail’s proposition of an alliance to kill Frank together. She could not see a single way of surviving the night if she and Sammy had to fight both Frank and Abigail at the same time. The girl seemed sincere too. In the end, she found herself agreeing to her offer to team up and fight together.

From above their heads came another crashing sound, and Sammy crashed into another bookshelf. Frank jumped down to the ground floor, standing opposite Joey and Abigail. They turned to him, eyeing him as he in turn mustered them. He still had this cocky smile on his face as if he saw nothing troubling in the situation of suddenly finding himself in a position, three against one. Abigail leapt towards him, almost landing on top of him, and Joey headed after her. Maybe, if they actually coordinated, they could do it and stake him, with some luck even quickly. It seemed promising for a single moment, when he held Abigail at bay, both his hands full, trying to keep her fangs and her fingers from his throat. Joey’s stake braced at his heart, she thrust. 

The stake never met its target. The air was knocked out of her in the next moment, when the vampire child’s body suddenly collided with her and they both went tumbling backwards, the girl having been thrown off violently by him. They both disentangled and scrambled back to their feet. She eyed Frank attentively, mentally plotting her next move, when she heard movement from her right and turned towards it. Sammy came hurrying up to Joey’s side and glanced between her and Abigail in irritation, taking in the situation.

“Wait, we’re siding with her?” Sammy snapped, pointing at the child-vampire.

“If you have any better ideas, I’m all ears.”

“She used me as a playtoy,” Sammy hissed out between her clenched, sharpened teeth.

Joey did not listen. “We need her!” she hissed back.

Sammy seemed utterly unconvinced and cocky even. “I can take him,” she insisted. Joey scowled.

“I don't see you taking him," she snapped.

Sammy threw up her hands and looked at Joey in a way that made it clear she would be blaming her if Abigail turned on them and chewed out their hearts directly from their chests. In reality, Sammy looked more like a petulant child, but begrudgingly, she agreed, “Urgh, fuck. Okay, alright.”

But even together, he managed to outstep them, never directly facing more than one at a time. He managed to jam a large piece of wood into Sammy’s shoulder, pushing her off as she screamed out in pain, clutching at the offending object. In the next moment, he managed to push Abigail off as well, and Joey found herself facing him alone and exposed. He broke off a pole from the room’s decor and advanced on her with a predatory grin. She screamed out when it pierced her shoulder and he drove her back until she hit something solid, and he kept on pushing it deeper until she felt the pole exit her shoulder on her back, burying in the metal she was pressed against deep enough to stay stuck, pinning her. When he pulled back, pleased with himself, he turned to Abigail and Sammy, who was still busy removing the piece of wood carefully from her shoulder.

Singling Abigail out, he headed for her, wrangling her until he managed to sink his fangs into her neck, drinking quickly before snapping her neck and dropping her unceremoniously. Still trying to recover from her own injury and realising that she was currently alone in facing him, Sammy hesitated in approaching Frank again, even as he rounded the room towards Joey and pulled her free from the pole that held her trapped. The woman screamed as the pole scraped against her wound from the inside until she was free and Frank pulled her against himself, hanging limply in his arms, dazed and spent.

His fangs sank into Joey’s neck as he demonstratively made eye contact with Sammy, taking visible delight in making her watch as he quickly drained blood from the woman’s neck. Joey didn’t even have the wherewithal left to scream. Sammy behind her stood frozen. Joey couldn’t see her face, but she heard a sound from behind her that sounded almost suspiciously like a whimper as Sammy now faced having to stand against Frank alone as the last one standing. So she stayed frozen, unable to choose to intervene as Joey’s blood drained from her, leaving her feeling weaker and weaker.

Feeling unpleasantly dazed and frail, she dropped to the floor when he pulled his fangs from her flesh and let go. Not done with her yet and without taking his eyes off of Sammy, Frank knelt down beside her prone form and started muttering orders to her, evidently having learned from Abigail’s earlier stunt with Sammy and thinking he could control and puppeteer her just the same. She, however, felt oddly clear. As he instructed her, she got to her feet, stiffly keeping her face averted from him, neither wanting to know what she would find if she looked at him, nor wanting him to see how little his trick had worked if he looked into her eyes. Sammy, however, clearly believed every word of it, staring at her in abject horror. Putting his hands onto Joey’s shoulders, he directed her gaze at Abigail’s supine form.

“Kill her.”

As if following suit, Joey took a step forward, with the stake clutched in one of her hands, then another. Snapping out of her pretended trace, she whirled around and jammed the stake she was holding into Frank’s chest instead with as much force as she could still muster, which must have been a lot given by how quickly the startled surprise on his face shifted to a strained grimace as the put his hands over hers to push the stake away from his heart. Sammy appeared at her side almost instantly, wrestling with Frank’s grip, forcing his arms back and staggering him. It seemed almost like they had the upper hand for a moment, before he managed to wrench an arm free, his fist colliding with Sammy’s face, getting her to loosen her grip. Joey dodged his attempt to grab her, but did not manage to pull the stake from his chest as well, letting go of it in an effort to get away from his reach. 

She scrambled away from him, heading towards the pole still stuck in the wall that she had been pierced with before. Behind her, she heard the stake clattering to the floor. Looking over her shoulder just briefly as she reached the pole, she saw Sammy lunging at Frank again, which would be enough to buy her some time. She tugged the pole free from the wall with some effort that strained the injury in her shoulder unpleasantly, feeling the blood squelch out. She turned around to see Frank and Sammy locked in a struggle for the upper hand, the stake still lying discarded at their feet. Coming up behind him unnoticed, she put the pole over his head and pulled it hard against his throat, forcing him back, scrabbling at his neck and leaving off of Sammy. Awkwardly, Joey pulled him down to the ground in their struggle, landing on her back and holding him in place while he pulled Sammy along with them, landing on top of him, locked in turn in his grip. As Sammy tried to struggle free from his grasp, Joey saw Abigail move and twitch in the background. Her body slowly healed, putting itself together again with an unpleasant cracking resounding loud enough to even be heard over their struggle.

Her heart pounding in her chest and her arms getting tired, Joey watched as Abigail picked up the stake and headed for them, leaping to land on top of Frank. Sammy managed to move aside enough to open the line of sight to his heart, Frank switching from wrangling Sammy to try and keep the stake at bay. Watching the unbalanced struggle with Abigail still being weaker even with the superior leverage and her limited added bodyweight, Joey let go of her hold on him and discarded the pole to move out from under him and to Abigail’s side. Grabbing the stake as well, she started leaning on it with all of her strength as well. Behind them, Sammy came up as well, leaning heavily on the stake. Together, they drove the wood deeper and deeper into his chest, now that he no longer stood a chance against their combined strength.

A resigned, capitulating “Fuck” escaped Frank just before they finally pierced his heart. His body exploded in a violent fountain of blood that threw all of them back several metres, where they came to an ungentle halt, covered in his blood and pieces of his flesh. Sammy’s fall was feathered by Joey, her elbow landing painfully in the older woman’s stomach, earning her a small groan. For a moment, they just slowly got their bearings back and mentally checked if any part of their bodies had been broken and looked around the mess in the room, now covered in nothing but blood and viscera.

“This is disgusting,” Sammy complained with a whine. 

Joey just responded with a “Hrmph” and pushed Sammy off of herself and picked herself slowly off the ground, almost absently offering Sammy a hand up, that she gingerly took, while looking around at the carnage they had caused. Her eyes drifted over to Abigail. She had landed a few metres away and had also gotten back to her feet, her dress no longer white. 

“I really didn't need another guts-bath tonight …” Sammy tried to fish some of the bits of flesh out of her tangled and no-longer blonde tresses. Given Sammy’s usual complaining, she seemed to be alright, and she followed Joey without comment when she headed over to Abigail with a limp, although Sammy kept glaring daggers at the other vampire.

She wanted to say something, some form of parting words or expression of gratitude for still being alive. Maybe she just wanted to check that the young vampire would keep her word and let them leave here alive. But she could not think of anything meaningful and appropriate to say, and the words all died on her tongue. In the end, they just almost wordlessly acknowledged each other and Joey turned to leave, putting a hand on Sammy’s arm and guiding her along.

As they neared the doors, Abigail’s voice rang out again, calling Joey’s name, causing them to stop and look back towards her. Joey and Abigail exchanged some surprisingly heartfelt words on parenthood, and Abigail expressed how she wanted Joey to have a good future with Caleb. The almost heartwarming moment of parting was interrupted when a looming presence suddenly appeared behind them in the door. At Abigail’s almost frightened sounding, “Father, no!” Joey and Sammy turned around to find themselves face to face with Lazar. Both of them staggered back in an effort to get away from him. They both knew who he was and what he was likely capable of. He was more dangerous than Abigail. In comparison to him, she was perhaps more like a tiger cub.

As they backed away, Joey staggered and slipped in the blood covering the room, falling backwards onto the ground. Lazar continued advancing towards them. To both of their surprise, Abigail decided to put herself between them and him. Joey used the moment to take Sammy’s offered hand to get back to her feet.

After listening to Abigail’s defence, Lazar rounded her and approached Joey, his eyes glossing over the younger vampire by her side almost in disinterest. Sammy, having lost all of her previous bravado, clung to Joey’s arm and acted like Joey was her personal shield from the ancient vampire regardless. Lazar probably enjoyed the effect he was having on them, but he did not harm them, seeming instead rather courteous. In the end, he let them both go. They turned back around one last time when Abigail bid them goodbye with a “See you around”. After that, Sammy could not get out of the building fast enough and dragged the limping and slightly protesting Joey behind her until they finally hit the cool, welcoming nightair outside.

With a smile, Sammy dashed ahead to the driver’s side of the car, yanking it open.

“Not a chance.” Joey hurried after her, and her hand shot out to slam the car door back shut. “I have seen you drive, Sammy.”

The newly turned vampire grinned, the blood around her mouth rendering the sight more unsettling than it already was. “I was running late. ‘sides, you’re injured. I’m driving.” She smiled widely, pushed Joey back, and pulled the door back open, sliding onto the seat before Joey had another chance to protest. Her eyes rolling and the aching in her body keeping her from wanting to argue the point further, she resigned to letting herself be driven. She made her way back around the car and settled into the passenger seat, groaning a little.

Joey leaned back and fished in her pocket. She tried to let the tension drop off of her. When she found what she was looking for, she was delighted to see that the lollipop was remarkably still clean despite the rest of her being covered in blood from her head to her boots. In that moment, it tasted like victory and forgetting. For at least a moment.

At her side, Sammy glanced over at her, taking in her form. Whether from looking at the blood painting her skin or seeing her enjoy something edible, she complained, “I’m hungry.” She sighed, and Joey did not know if she was just being dramatic or being serious for a change. “You do look appetising,” Sammy grumbled. Joey was not about to ask just how appetising she really looked or how it felt to experience the hunger she must be feeling right now. She sighed again, sounding defeated this time. “I don’t even know where I’m going to get blood from now.”

“I’ll help you.” She didn’t even hesitate.

“You will?” Sammy perked up.

“Yes, I'm not going to let you navigate this all on your own. Besides, you will need someone who can actually walk around during the day, right?” Joey added with a crooked smile that Sammy returned. “We’ll figure this out.”

Looking significantly more hopeful, Sammy glanced at her once more and drove them out of there, knowing that wherever they were heading now, she would not have to do it all alone, whatever her life as an undead vampire would look like now.

[evildarliing]

[evildarliing]

made this cause i was hyper and bored so i hope this was accurate 😭

[evildarliing]

ㅤ What can I say? I like playing with my food.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤABIGAIL (2024)

[evildarliing]

FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 7: TREASON

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6

WARNINGS: gore mentions

NOTES: i lowkey locked in with this chapter WHY IS IT SO LONG. i also decided to spice things up a bit by having sylvie talk to abigail instead of joey doing it (when abigail says that frank is valdez). i am VERY excited to write the scene where abigail exposes everybody because the drama is going to be REAL.

SUMMARY: now that everyone’s locked inside, sylvie decides to make the decision to talk to abigail herself, something that she regrets. after rickles dies next, sylvie confronts frank, which only leaves her feeling more confused and frightened than she already is.

WORD COUNT: 3,290

TAGLIST: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @that-one-gay-aew-enthusiast @evildarliing @maggotmommys @maggotssmichael @13th-floor-in-moonstone @vampireheist @xashleyo03x @blackwolfstabs @atcarpenter

shoot me a message if you’d like to be added to my taglist! and… seriously — reblogs and comments are heavily appreciated. don’t just leave a like! it helps keep me motivated. 🙏

“Come on, Rickles. Hey!”

Rickles was storming straight for the front door, adamant on his decision to leave. Even with Joey calling for him and following after him, he didn’t change his mind one bit. Once he reached the door, he attempted to open it.

Well, unfortunately for him, the door was completely locked. There was no way to get out. In fact, as Rickles attempted to open the door, some sort of silver gate rose up, blocking the door from any sort of access. It was completely shielded by the gate. Everyone stared at the door in confusion. How the hell did that happen?

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Peter asked. He figured that since he was the strongest of the entire group, he probably had a chance at unlocking the door. It was worth a try, at least.

Turns out, being 6’5” and over 200 pounds doesn’t always make somebody the strongest. No matter how hard Peter strained as he tried to break the door free, nothing happened.

Confused, Peter looked up at the door. “What the fuck?”

He turned around to look at Rickles. “Rickles, stand back.”

Rickles took a few steps back, and then Peter threw himself at the gate, trying to use all of his strength in an attempt to successfully break through it. Still, nothing happened. It only resulted in some physical pain that definitely hadn’t been worth it.

“It’s locked,” Peter announced, disappointed.

Frank rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Peter. It’s obviously fuckin’ locked.”

Sylvie and the others watched as Peter still tried to unlock the door. Great, so now everyone was stuck here. Dean had mysteriously been killed, and now the front door was completely unusable. It almost seemed like this entire place was just one big trap.

Frank sauntered over to Sylvie with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, then.”

Sylvie looked up at Frank, a half-annoyed expression on her face. Seeing that infuriatingly smug grin on his face made her want to just smack him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Maybe she was a coward, maybe it was something else. Either way, the fact she couldn’t make herself do anything about it was bothering her. It was as though her feelings toward Frank were slowly beginning to do a complete 180° in the span of just a few hours.

“And I bet you’re just happy about that, aren’t you?” She asked, trying to sound like a total smart-ass. A snarky response was the most Sylvie could do.

Frank’s smirk grew at Sylvie’s response. He only looked cockier. “Well, I’m certainly not complaining.”

“This whole thing is a trap.”

Frank and Sylvie looked to see Rickles walking away in an obvious hurry. If the front door wasn’t going to be any use, then he figured he’d keep looking. He was determined to get out of this place somehow.

Peter watched as Rickles disappeared. “Rickles! Where’s… hey. Where’s Rickles going?”

“Goddamnit.” Frank hissed under his breath. “Don’t worry about it, Peter. I’ll go after him.”

Peter sighed. “Alright.”

Joey then had an idea. “If Valdez is here, perhaps he checked on the girl and left her there to throw us off…” she speculated.

“I’ll go talk to her.” Sylvie then offered. Right as Joey was about to speak, she was already making her way back up the stairs to the kid’s room.

“Wait—”

Sylvie paused, turning around to look at Joey, who was trying to catch up with her.

“You can’t go in there, Ava.”

“She’s already seen my face. It doesn’t matter.”

Before Joey could say anything else to try and stop Sylvie, she continued on her way.

When Sylvie carefully opened the door, Abigail looked up at her, fearfully clutching a blanket. The sight made Sylvie’s heart clench. She felt really, really bad for the kid. None of this was right at all. She should be at home right now, not locked up in some mansion in the middle of nowhere in Massachusetts.

“What do you… want?” The girl croaked, her voice trembling. “Where’s Joey?”

Sylvie sighed, carefully taking a seat on the edge of the bed, making sure to keep her distance. The last thing she wanted was to make the kid even more afraid than she already was.

“I just need to ask you something,” Sylvie explained, trying to sound as gentle as possible. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just need to talk to you, okay?”

Reluctantly, the girl slowly nodded. She still seemed wary of Sylvie, but not as much. Well, that was a good sign at least.

“Has anyone else been in this room?” Sylvie then asked.

Abigail paused, then shook her head. “N-no… just you and… Joey… and the man with the glasses…”

Sylvie slowly nodded. Only her, Joey, and Frank had been in the room, apparently. Just to make sure that Abigail was being honest, she decided to press a little more. She knew how scared kids could lie, speaking from her own experience. Sylvie had personally lied a lot as a child to protect herself. If Valdez had come in here, there was the possibility that he could’ve threatened Abigail into keeping his name out of her mouth. Hopefully, that wasn’t the case.

“Are you sure?” Sylvie asked, slowly raising an eyebrow.

Abigail gave a quick nod.

Sylvie sighed. “Nobody else has been in this room, is that correct? By the way, you can be honest. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

Abigail shook her head. Sylvie tried to search her expression for any sign of hesitation, but… she appeared to be telling the truth. Sylvie couldn’t detect a single sign of dishonesty.

She was about to get up and leave the room when Abigail suddenly spoke up.

“He’s gonna hurt me.”

Sylvie turned around to look at her, noticing how the girl seemed to be completely frightened again. She paused, feeling her chest begin to tighten with concern.

“What do you mean? Who’s gonna hurt you?”

“The man with the glasses.” Abigail continued, her voice growing more panicked. “He said he’s gonna hurt me.”

Sylvie could feel her chest start to tighten even more. “Wait, hold on. Are you telling me the truth?”

Abigail frantically nodded. “Yes! I’m serious… I’m serious. Please… please believe me. I’m really scared. He said I need to keep a secret, or… or he’d hurt me.”

“What secret?”

What she said next made Sylvie’s heart just about drop to her stomach.

“He said he works for my father… he said his name’s… Valdez.”

Fuck.

Sylvie didn’t know what to believe. Sure, Frank was a cold-hearted bastard in all honesty… but a ruthless murderer? Maybe she was just in denial, but she couldn’t picture him doing what had been done to Dean. She wasn’t sure if he was that sadistic, that cruel. The idea of Frank working for Lazar and being a brutal killer was enough to make Sylvie sick to her stomach.

If it was all true… then what else did Sylvie not know about Frank?

“You’re not just saying that, right?” She carefully asked.

Abigail looked so afraid that she seemed as though she was about to break down in tears. She fervently nodded again. “I’m telling the truth, I promise!”

Sylvie had to get out of there. She couldn’t bring herself to hear anything else. She didn’t want to hear anything else.

But, as she started to head for the door, Abigail spoke up again.

“Why are you surprised?”

Sylvie was starting to feel increasingly agitated. She turned around again, suddenly sick of hearing the child’s voice. “What the hell do you mean?” She asked, sounding almost irritated. She instantly regretted it.

“He’s a very bad man. I think you know that.”

Sylvie had enough. Quickly, she rushed out of the room and shut the door, her mind struggling to process everything she had just heard. None of it made sense. None of it seemed… real. She leaned against the door, trying to steady her breathing.

What am I supposed to do now?

As Sylvie remained there, her back pressed against the door, she tried to think. As she reflected on Abigail’s words, she thought about what she said about Frank working for Lazar. As she thought about it… she reluctantly realized that it made sense. She remembered back to when she and Frank were talking earlier, how he had admitted to leaving his old life behind.

What if he had been referring to working for Lazar?

The more Sylvie thought about it, the more sick she felt. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. Maybe the kid’s just lying because she’s scared.

But… why would she say something like that?

Why are you surprised? He’s a very bad man. Those words kept repeating in Sylvie’s brain. But… what confused her the most was Abigail’s next words after that, “I think you know that.” What the hell had she meant by that? I think you know that? Sylvie didn’t even know who the fuck the girl was.

What was even worse was that she was right — Sylvie knew that Frank wasn’t a good person. But… “a very bad man?” What the fuck— nevermind. She was done thinking about this bullshit. The more she thought, the more confused she became.

As Sylvie continued to lean against the door, she heard voices coming from one of the rooms down the hall — Joey and Rickles. Quickly, she hurried down the hall and into the room, clearly interrupting a conversation. Upon seeing the worry on Sylvie’s face, though, Joey and Rickles both became concerned.

“What is it?” She asked.

Sylvie drew in a shaky breath. “Something is really fucking wrong.”

Joey narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Sylvie couldn’t bring herself to explain. “If you want to know, go talk to the girl yourself. I don’t… I don’t know if she’s being serious or not.”

Joey and Rickles exchanged a disconcerted glance before looking back at Sylvie. Joey slowly nodded. “Alright. I’ll… be right back.”

Once Joey disappeared, Rickles glanced at Sylvie again. “You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.” He commented. “The hell happened?”

Sylvie shook her head. “I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it. If she tells Joey the same thing she told me, I swear to God…”

Now, Rickles just seemed confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Look. Are you sure there’s no other way out of here? I need to get out of here. I… I want to go home.”

Rickles sighed, crossing his arms. “Trust me, I wish there was. As far as I know, we’re all locked up in here for who knows how much goddamn longer. I’m not buying the ‘twenty-four hours’ bullshit. I guarantee this is a trap.”

Sylvie nervously tapped her foot against the floor, her eyes darting around anxiously as she waited for Joey to return, anticipating what she would say. Seconds ticked by, and they were starting to seem like hours at this point.

“You believe Valdez is real, right?” Sylvie then asked.

Rickles slowly nodded. “I’ve heard too much shit about him for him not to be.” He answered, his voice taking on a grave tone.

“Do you really think it’s possible he’s here right now? Like, one of us is actually him?”

“Dean’s head was ripped clean off. That’s some bullshit that only Valdez is capable of,” Rickles explained, “and if the girl’s Lazar’s daughter… gives him more of a reason to be here.”

“Have you two seen Frank?”

Sylvie and Rickles turned around to see Joey briskly walking towards them. Her expression was difficult to read, but she did seem rather pissed. At least, that’s what her tone of voice suggested.

“I can go look for him.” Rickles then offered. “Why? He the next victim?”

Joey scoffed. “No. Actually, he might be the killer.”

Rickles’ eyes narrowed in a mixture of confusion and shock. “Wait, what?”

Sylvie felt like she was going to vomit right then and there.

“Frank is Valdez.” Joey continued, her voice cold. “He told the girl.”

Rickles wasn’t exactly buying it. “He wanted to leave. That doesn’t make any sense.”

He had a good point, Sylvie thought. If Frank was really Valdez, then why the hell did he seem so adamant about leaving after talking to Abigail?

“He acted like he wanted to leave.” Joey then said.

“If he’s Valdez and Lazar’s his boss, then why kidnap his kid?” Rickles questioned.

Sylvie was relieved that at least Rickles was skeptical… but at the same time, if Frank wasn’t Valdez, then who was? Jesus Christ… none of this was making any sense.

“Maybe he and Lambert are planning a power play.” Joey suggested.

Rickles let out a sigh. “You’re telling me that skinny motherfucker rips people apart?” He scoffed. “Something doesn’t add up.”

Sylvie decided that she might as well offer her opinion. “I know he’s an asshole, but I can’t picture him doing some gruesome shit like that, y’know?”

Joey seemed reluctant to believe Rickles and Sylvie, her expression wary. “All I know is that Frank definitely isn’t an amateur. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me.” She spoke. “If Frank really is Valdez, then he definitely knows how to get out of here, which means so would I if I spend about six minutes with him.”

“So… what’s the plan?” Sylvie asked.

Joey sighed, clicking her tongue as she tried to think of something. “You two split up and take the main staircase. I’ll go south. We’ll meet in the middle.”

Reluctantly, Sylvie slowly nodded. “Alright.”

Rickles tried to offer a small, reassuring smile. “We gonna get through this.”

“I have to.”

“You have a kid?” He asked.

Joey nodded. Sylvie felt a pang in her chest. God… she definitely did not belong here. Silently, Sylvie hoped that Joey’s son was safe and well back at home.

Rickles placed a comforting hand on Joey’s shoulder. “We’ll make sure you get home.”

As Sylvie wandered through the mansion, she started to feel unsafe now that she had lost sight of Rickles. Now, she was by herself, and suddenly… everything seemed eerily quiet. Where was he, anyway?

Sylvie stood there in the hallway, her eyes anxiously darting around as she tried to see if she could hear or spot any sign of him. Yet, there was nothing.

And then, she heard what sounded like gurgling coming from the distance. Her heart starting to race with worry, Sylvie dashed toward the direction of where the sound was coming from, leading her to another room. As she stood in the doorway, she saw Rickles standing there, his back turned.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Sylvie asked, her voice cautious.

Then, Rickles suddenly collapsed, and that was when Sylvie caught sight of his face — it was horribly mutilated and looked as though a fucking dog had ripped through his face. His cheek was torn open, and she could see his teeth through the gaping, bloody hole. The wound went all the way down his neck, dark blood staining his shirt.

Covering her mouth, Sylvie took a few steps back, desperately fighting the urge to vomit. She immediately wanted to break down and cry right there, just… scream. “What the fuck…? No, no, no…”

Two people had just brutally died in this mansion. Already, two people were gone in only a brief span of time. Sylvie didn’t know how much more she could handle. Who was going to be next? That was all she could think about.

Quickly, Sylvie ran to the nearest bathroom, opening the toilet seat as she retched. Nothing came up, so all she could do was let out painful dry heaves. Once she was done, she closed the seat and staggered to her feet. Suddenly feeling a rush of anger, she slammed her fists against the wall, as though she was trying to knock some sense into herself. Maybe this was just a nightmare, and she’d wake up from it.

“Wake up… fucking WAKE UP!”

She continued to punch the wall, but nothing happened. She only felt pain… which meant this was either real or a hyper-realistic nightmare. Unfortunately, it was beginning to seem like it was… real.

“Hey, what the fuck’s the matter with you?”

Sylvie whipped her head around, her senses on high alert. Any movement, sound, or voice was enough to make her jump out of her skin at this point.

When she turned around, Sylvie saw Frank standing there, looking at her with a mixture of annoyance and… perhaps a bit of concern, which was rather rare to see from him. It seemed more like an annoyed type of concern, whatever the hell that meant.

Upon seeing Frank’s face, Sylvie didn’t know how to react. One thing was for sure — she didn’t feel good.

“Get… get away from me.”

Frank narrowed his eyes, his annoyance growing. Instead of listening to Sylvie and backing away from her, he only stepped closer to her. She flinched as he moved towards her, almost as if she was expecting him to hurt her.

Frank let out an irritated scoff. “Jesus Christ, would you calm the fuck down? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Why don’t you have any… blood on you?” Sylvie asked, her voice shaking.

Frank looked taken aback by the question, his eyes widening slightly in a genuine expression of shock. “The fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“You… you’re Valdez. The girl… the girl told me.”

Frank went from shocked to annoyed in seconds. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You’re seriously listening to her?”

“Rickles just… Rickles just died. Rickles and Dean are both dead. You…”

Frank rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Sylvie, for the love of God. You don’t have a single clue what you’re fuckin’ talking about, do you? I know you’re smarter than this.”

“Well, can you please tell me what the fuck is going on? I just saw two people die. I’m scared. I want to get out of here.”

“What’s going on?” Frank repeated. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Please tell me the truth. The girl said the same thing to me and Joey, that you’re… that you’re Valdez.”

Frank let out an annoyed huff. “Did she, now? Well, I don’t appreciate people trying to tarnish my fuckin’ reputation.”

Sylvie swallowed, trying to steady her breathing. “So… she’s lying?”

Frank chuckled, the sound devoid of any humor. “No fuckin’ shit. Children love to lie… but lying about something like this? I’d say that somebody needs to be put in their goddamn place.”

“But then… who did it? Who’s… killing everybody?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. That’s what we’re all trying to figure out, right?”

Letting out an annoyed grumble, Frank turned around to walk away. Just as he was about to leave, Sylvie spoke.

“You’re not going to let anything happen to me, right? Just… tell me everything’s going to be okay. I don’t… I really don’t want to die. Not here.”

Frank paused, looking back at Sylvie for a moment. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed slightly caught off-guard by her sudden vulnerability. In the time that he knew her, he never once heard her ask him for reassurance. Frank had always known Sylvie as a defiant, feisty little brat… yet, here she was, frightened to death because she didn’t want to die. It was a side of her that he had never seen before.

No, don’t let her get to you.

Frank remained silent for a few moments, trying to think of how he would respond.

“You’re not gonna die.” He simply answered, his voice matter-of-fact. Cold. Emotionless.

And then, he left.

[evildarliing]

WRITING QUEUE. | evildarliing

✩*:·˚ NAVIGATION.

⸢♡⸥—fluff.

⸢✥⸥—angst.

⸢★⸥—nsfw ∙ 18+.

⸢✧⸥—AU/crossover.

—ABIGAIL LAZAAR.

come alive. (abigail & kristof lazaar) ✥ mood ring. (abigail & kristof lazaar)

—JOEY/ANA LUCIA CRUZ.

white horse. ✥

—FRANK/ADAM BARRETT.

the way i am.

—DEAN.

glamorous lifestyle.

—SAMMY/JESSICA HURNEY.

lucky.

—PETER/TERRANCE LACROIX.

dead end road.

—RICKLES.

time is running out. ✥

—KRISTOF LAZAAR.

come alive. (abigail & kristof lazaar) ✥ mood ring. (abigail & kristof lazaar)

—MISCELLANEOUS.

character "backstory" analysis.

[evildarliing]

Do you ship Joey/Ana and Frank/Adam

personally, i don't ship them but i don't mind the ship in general! i feel like Joey & Frank are alike in many areas but differ drastically in others. [imo] if they were to be in a relationship, they would act more like partners than lovers while still sharing a bit of romance/intimacy in between.

thanks for the ask! 💕💕

[evildarliing]

IN THE DARK.

Abigail Lazaar | Ana Lucia Cruz/Joey.

WORD COUNT. 730.

WARNINGS. none.

TAGS. vent. emotional hurt. promises. reflection. inspired by music. deep & lonely thoughts.

A/N. this is a vent work so it may or may not make sense; it's just something i wanted to write to help me cope.

In the moment, everything was real. Every word. Every fight. Every feeling. Everything on both sides of the tracks were real.

‘Can you promise me you’re not going to let anyone hurt me?’

She had pinky-promised to keep Abigail safe.

‘You promised, Joey.’

A promise is a promise, and she swore to keep it.

‘She saved my life!’

It was true; she fought tooth and nail and risked her life to keep a vampire, whom she had fallen victim to, alive.

‘See you around, Joey.’

Abigail promised herself that she would see Ana Lucia again. Maybe down the street or in a crowd. Maybe from a distance or right in front of her. During a snow storm or the heat of a summer day. In real life or in an everlasting dream. But a promise was a promise, and she was counting on it. She would see Joey again.

Someday…

Now, she was locked up in her bedroom like a prisoner in a cell. Abigail was realizing that she was spending too much time thinking about her; spending too many nights going through Hell. There was not a single answer to anything… The light Ana Lucia had brought into her life was leaving her in the complete dark. After all of these patient days and pacing nights, she was still waiting to see those mocha eyes stare into her blue ones or turn her head to her name being called by that voice which vowed to never hurt her. Never leave her alone.

Joey had disappeared, and she didn’t understand why. Maybe she was still gullible like Adam said. Maybe she had read too far into Joey’s maternal instincts. Or maybe it was because no one had ever shown her what it was like to be something someone wanted and, potentially, loved.

Did Joey reunite with Caleb once more and go looking for freedom in some city far away from her? It all played behind her eyes like a taunting scheme. She could see her now with Caleb by her side, starting a new life and renewing her name. Seeing so many places and meeting countless new faces. Mentally running further and further from the night she crossed paths with Abigail. Now, Abigail must be nothing more than a blur in a faded memory of promises, allied fighting, and victorious bloodshed that ended with two alive and beating hearts.

It had probably been at least 100 days since she had ever crossed Ana Lucia’s mind, and Abigail couldn’t help but ask herself too many questions to count. Some for herself and some for Joey, but all of them came back to the one thing that had left her wondering: did she do something wrong? If she would have known she would have been left feeling so blue, maybe she wouldn’t have let herself get so attached.

Though that was a lie.

She would have gotten attached regardless of the outcome. Joey was the one person who had shown her a gentle voice, a soft touch, and undying loyalty. And Abigail loved her for that.

She loved Ana Lucia Cruz.

It all felt like a waste of time looking back now, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. She didn’t want to accept the fact that maybe Joey and her had reached the end. They were walking a tightrope that started off strong but it’s tether was now losing its pull. Unwinding and breaking. Like the bond they had formed. Like the promise Ana Lucia had made.

But Abigail still loved her…

It was so foolish of her to believe, but she did. She does. And she probably always will. But after waiting day after day and night after night, what more what there to say? What more was left to do? Now that the line was drawn and what Abigail thought she had was long gone, how was she supposed to carry on like nothing ever happened? What was she supposed to tell her heart? She couldn’t face the fact already, but it was staring at her with no signs of a cover up. Plain and true.

Locked in her bedroom as the clock struck one in the morning, the emptiness in her bled through her veins. Her vision blurred like the way she had in Ana Lucia’s mind, and a tear fell from her cheek.

“Where did you go, Joey?”

[evildarliing]

Wolf! Sammy & Joey HCs

(requested by @random19xxx)

──────── GIFs are not mine

Sammy often licks/grooms Joey as a sign of respect for she sees her as the alpha female.

On a good day, they’ll play like puppies with each other.

Sammy can’t take a hint. When Joey’s in a bad mood, Sammy will try to play with her by nipping at her ear or trying to encourage her to chase her. Joey will growl or snap at her but she keeps coming back.

Joey likes to get into things she shouldn’t, especially things she can chew on. Sammy will find her and join her rather than stopping her.

They will sleep next to each other, so close their fur may brush if they’re not pressing against each other.

Sammy will automatically go into a submissive position when playing with Joey.

Joey paws Sammy a lot when they play, often looking like she’s trying to push her to the ground.

They both chase anything that moves, so they’ll accidentally crash into each other.

sorry it took me a while to get these out! 🩶

[evildarliing]

EVERYTHING HAS YOUR MEMORY

"Sunday rain, Texas plates, silver cross on a chain, cloud of dust leaving me - everything has your memory." inspired by: Everything Has Your Memory | Wade Bowen

fandom: Abigail (2024) characters: Ana Lucia Cruz (Joey), Caleb Cruz, Kristof Lazar, & Abigail Lazar dedicated to my abigail: @evildarliing

Every day.

Every damn day.

It was relentless. She was relentless. Just like that night.

That night... 

The night Joey left her in the shadow, the clutches, the reign of Kristof Lazar—covered in blood with eyes so blue they overpowered such a majestic vibrancy that complimented vampires so well. But not her. 

Not Abigail.

That she-devil who was as quick as a pistol, as smart as a whip, and was perhaps the cruelest, most vile little girl that had ever lived. But every devil was once an angel, weren’t they?

This was a question Joey had been contemplating for weeks. Ever since she left the mansion, ever since she walked away, ever since she traded one name for the other, anyone would think her reset—her second chance—would’ve been the only road to go down. She’d gotten Caleb back, she’d stayed clean, and she’d started a new life. Everything was different. Or at least… it was supposed to be. There was one thing she couldn’t let go of.

Abigail.

Abigail was literally haunting her. She was everywhere and in everything. Even with Caleb back in her life, blue eyes and soft caramel hair always managed to get between her and him. This wasn’t to mistake that she couldn’t love him like she wanted, because she did. But there was an empty space that she was struggling to fill. An vacant void that left her feeling cold and guilty, like she’d felt after shooting up morphine in the field. It kept her up at night and disrupted her in her sleep. It woke her up in the morning and left her always looking over her shoulder during the day. And every time she’d look, her heart stopped.

Abigail was in every crowd, slipping in and out of view among walking people. She was perched on every balcony, surveying the freedom she’ll never have. She was by Caleb’s side every morning when his mother would send him off to school and every night when she’d kiss him goodnight. She was in every mirror and in every window reflection, just staring at her with that same small smile that she’d given when she’d said,

“See you around, Joey.”

That same sad smile that Joey wasn’t able to shake. Fuck, she wasn’t even able to shake her code name. Joey had grown on her, and had definitely given her some definition between the life she’d had before meeting Abigail and the life she’d made after. If anything, she’d choose to refer to herself as Joey rather than Ana Lucia Cruz. But above everything, that was because all she could hear when she thought of her name or when someone said it was Abigail’s voice and the way her name came off her venomous tongue—how it had destroyed her.

How she had destroyed her…

And to this day, it was so painful. Not the embarrassing or guilty kind, it was the regretful kind—the inability to console the side of her that knew something was missing.

Caleb would wave to her. “See you later, Mom!”

Abigail would echo in her ear. “See you around, Joey.”

Caleb would hug her. “I love you, Mama.”

Abigail would remind her. “You promised, Joey.”

She’d relive Frank dropping her from 3 stories high in dreams only to shoot up in the dark solitude of her room, never reaching the ground, but instead, missing being caught by Abigail. 

That nightmare haunted her like the mansion Abigail stalked. Her panting reminded her of the adrenaline that fueled her for hours during the race. Her loneliness reminded her of her inexhaustible will to survive out of the 6 criminals they started out as. And her inability to fall asleep cursed her with the memory of that bloodied pinky that was held out to her in the desperate hold of a promise that was slipping through a lattice of selfishness.

But promises weren’t intended to come and go within a time-frame—they weren’t intended to be made one night and then gone the next. They weren’t supposed to be something you willed to keep temporary peace or a fake truth in the belly of the beast.

A promise was a promise. It was meant to be set on forever—a symbol of trust and bond. And as a mother, Joey knew better than to mistake the meaning of one for something else. Because paying the price for doing so was Hell.

Everywhere she went, she saw Abigail’s face. Even if there was nowhere to make out a face, she was in Joey’s head. It wouldn’t leave her alone. She wouldn’t leave her alone.

And the worst part was that she was only a drive away.

It was around 11:00 at night when Joey locked up the front door and hit a dirt road in an old Chevrolet. She’d promised Caleb she’d be home before dawn. She trusted him enough to leave him alone overnight, and he trusted her enough to be okay with it. It wasn’t the first time he’d been left alone after all, and while that made her feel even more guilty, she knew for a fact she’d be back. 

She just needed to see her. That was the only solution that seemed to haunt her more than Abigail’s memory.

The same forest. The same night sky. The same anticipation. The same racing mind.

It was Deja Vu. And that was what kept her from turning back.

In front of the mansion she once walked out of with no intentions of ever returning, she forced the gear stick in park. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since she left her house, and now, it seemed to double. But on the outside, she remained composed. She got out, slammed the door, and locked it behind her as she stalked towards the door, where everything began…

Where Abigail began…

Joey didn’t even bother to knock, testing the locks first and foremost, which was wise in not wanting to be caught by the wrong vampire. Kristof Lazar wouldn’t dare leave a front door locked to keep out any lost toy that might wander into the wrong shelter. She held her breath in the shadows, seeming to relive that night alongside the rest of the former Rat Pack’s presence. Maybe they were still here, haunting an already-haunted mansion. 

Nothing had changed since she’d been there, with the exception of all the bloodshed that had been cleaned up. Possibly licked up… 

She shuddered at that thought and continued into the library. Abigail had recalled quote-unquote painful memories having taken place there. One of the most painful was probably when her own father turned her into a bloodlusting killer. Joey could now say the same about that room carrying a lot of pain, trauma, and hate.

“I never thought you’d dare return here… Ana Lucia Cruz…”

The cold, heartless voice of Kristof Lazar sounded behind her, sending her fight-or-flight into motion. She forced it down. She wasn’t going to run, no matter how bad she wanted to. She couldn’t explain it, but he put the fear of God in her. That was something that she wasn’t able to shake alongside his daughter.

But Abigail was more important than he was. She knew that more than anything.

Joey turned around to meet glowing eyes and a venomous smirk, just like the first night. “Where is she?” she asked coldly. “I need to see her.”

Lazar tilted his head ever-so-slightly. “What for?”

“Not your concern.”

A deep growl rumbled in his throat as he moved closer to her in one fluid motion. His hand moved to hold her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. He felt her muscles immediately tense up, hard enough to know she was clenching her teeth, all while her black eyes bore into him with a mixture of rage, caution, and defiance. “Hmmm…”

It took everything in her being not to yank away from his touch, for picking and choosing her battles were extremely imperative while in this man’s realm.

Lazar bowed at the interest in the sound of her pounding heartbeat. He could smell the blood pumping rapidly, healthily, heartily through her, which also became visible in the light flush of her complexion. “Bold of you to come at night alone,” he mused. “Oh, yes… so very bold, you are.” Then he lowered himself to hiss into her ear, “But also very stupid.”

“Joey?”

Joey didn’t think as she pulled away from Lazar and whipped around to the voice she’d only heard in her head for weeks. It was like second-nature, an involuntary response to a stimulus that was impossible to ignore.

The soft caramel hair, the blue eyes, the fair skin, and most elegant disposition. Where it all began hadn’t changed. And who it all began with hadn’t changed either. If anything, Abigail looked more alive than she’d been beforehand.

For a moment, Joey was speechless as Abigail came off the last step to meet level ground.

So, the girl’s father spoke for her. “She desires to see you, Abigail,” he spoke.

The young vampire never took her eyes away from the newcomer. She almost looked relieved, like she’d anticipated false hope, just to be ironically mistaken. And she smiled. It was small and subtle, but Joey could see it. Then, she raised her face to acknowledge her father. “Can we be alone?”

Objection to this request was expected, but it took the only human by surprise when Lazar’s footsteps started to distance from her.

“Very well,” he granted and disappeared into the shadows of another room.

There was a small silence that strayed between the two left alone. There was a heavy tension of words unsaid and words wanting to be said. It hadn’t been very long, especially to a vampire, but it wasn’t exaggerated when they both silently deemed their separation to be a lifetime. 

Joey was caught up in a million words, thoughts, and feelings, wanting to ask a million things and apologize for a thousand reasons. They both weren’t what the average person would call an angel. They were devils, demons, monsters, and entirely tragic mysteries. But maybe there was something beautiful in that. “I—”

She hadn’t even noticed that Abigail had moved, but she wasn’t able to get anything out before she felt arms wrap around her, followed by a head on her chest. It silenced her, even though she didn’t know what to say in the first place. 

The girl’s embrace was tight, like she’d harbored so much pent up love that was only real for the woman before her. And it was the first time in centuries that she could let it free. “I missed you,” was the only thing she said.

Even though her voice was just above a whisper, there was such a strong sense of warmth that came with those words. It seemed to fill the cold void that had followed Joey around for weeks, like she wasn’t being hugged by a vampire, but a normal 12-year-old girl. The vampire made it sincere.

Joey held her close. Maybe it wasn’t strictly guilt that haunted her. Maybe it wasn’t fear. Maybe it wasn’t what-could-bes and what-could’ve-beens. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe it was simple, just like Abigail had said.

Maybe she just felt the same way.

“I missed you, too.”

───────────────────────────

i don't like the way this came out.. i feel like i could've done so much better and drug it out more, but then i know that i wouldn't have been able to stop. it would've gone on for a while..

i'm sorry @evildarliing that i couldn't do something better for you 🩶

[evildarliing]

thank you bunches for tagging me @blackwolfstabs! 🩷

"wherever you go, i hope that you know my love's gonna follow you." —Follow, William Beckmann.

➺ i don't know many people on here so i won't be tagging anyone but if you see this, please feel free to join in! 💕💕

reblog w the song lyrics in your head NOW. either stuck in yr head or what yr listening to

[evildarliing]

honestly every movie monster would be improved if they were an unhinged little girl

[evildarliing]

just me and my fucked up fictional otp against the world

[evildarliing]

FAVORITE CHARACTER. | poll game!

—tagged by @blackwolfstabs! ty for tagging me sis! 💕💕

✩*:·˚ RULES. make a poll with five of your all-time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same. see which character is everyone's favorite!

i have more favorites but am only listing 5 characters as the game only says to list 5. i won't be tagging anyone because i only know very few people on here. . but i had fun participating in this! 🩷

[evildarliing]

FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 6: END OF THE NIGHT

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5

WARNINGS: gore mentions

NOTES: sorry that it took so long for me to post this 😭😭😭 i’ve had a lot going on and ended up deciding to rewrite this chapter midway through it.

also, frank knows something crucial about sylvie that the others don’t… BUT i won’t spoil it 🥱 that shall be revealed during the last few chapters

SUMMARY: sammy wakes up sylvie in the middle of the night to help her investigate some mysterious noises she’s been hearing. turns out, something is very, very wrong.

WORD COUNT: 2,088

TAGLIST: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @that-one-gay-aew-enthusiast @vampireheist @maggotmommys @maggotssmichael @13th-floor-in-moonstone @atcarpenter @blackwolfstabs @evildarliing @xashleyo03x

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“Ava, wake up!”

Sylvie’s eyes fluttered open to see that she was in bed all alone… naked. What? She looked up to see Sammy standing there, holding a flashlight. She looked… afraid.

“Sammy, what’s goin’ on…?” Sylvie groggily asked, slowly sitting up and covering herself with the blanket.

“I can’t sleep. I’ve been hearing noises. Can you… help me look?”

Sylvie sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I need to sleep, Sammy. Can’t you go look yourself?”

“I’m… scared. What if there’s something?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I don’t know. Something scary. What if this place is haunted? I mean… it looks like it could be. It’s giving me the creeps.”

“Fine. I’ll help you look, but I’m going back to sleep afterward.”

Sammy breathed out a sigh of relief. Sylvie reached over the bed, seeing that her clothes were scattered around on the floor. Then… it hit her. Right.

“What the hell happened?” Sammy then asked, directing the flashlight toward the mess of clothes on the floor.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sylvie muttered. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

As Sammy headed out of the bedroom, Sylvie switched the lamp on, climbed out of bed, and put her clothes back on, adjusting her hair a bit. Once she was ready, she headed out of the bedroom, seeing Sammy standing by the wall. Now that she was able to see Sylvie more clearly thanks to the light in the hallway, she raised an eyebrow, gesturing to her neck.

“What are… those?”

“Huh?”

“Your neck,” Sammy explained. “You’ve got some… uh… marks.”

Sylvie sighed, now desperate to change the subject. “Don’t worry about it. Now, where are these noises coming from?”

Thankfully, her attempt at a topic change appeared to work.

“Downstairs, I think,” Sammy answered.

Sylvie slowly nodded. “Okay, good. We can go look there, then.”

As the pair walked over to the staircase, Sammy glanced at Sylvie with a worried expression on her face. “I wonder if it’s Dean.”

“How come?”

Sammy sighed. “Well, I was watching television, and I guess he thought it would be funny to try and prank me.” She explained, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. Then, she looked concerned again.

“These noises, though… I’m seriously getting some bad vibes. I could’ve sworn that I heard somebody fucking screaming downstairs. I can’t think of a reason Dean would do some bullshit like that.”

The two slowly started to make their way down the stairs, and that was when Sammy looked over at Sylvie again, her eyebrow raised.

“So, what the hell is it with you and Frank?”

Sylvie paused, feeling her chest start to tighten. She really did not want to talk about any of this.

“Why do you want to know?” She questioned, her tone coming off as a bit defensive. “There’s… nothing going on between us.”

Sammy shrugged, continuing to walk down the stairs. “I mean, I did see him shoving his tongue down your throat earlier.”

Sylvie sighed as she tried to ignore Sammy. Unfortunately, that didn’t work. She continued to pester Sylvie.

“You guys fucked, didn’t you? I mean, honestly, I’m surprised. I never thought that Frank out of all people would actually—”

“Can you please drop it?”

“… Sorry.”

Eventually, Sammy and Sylvie reached the bottom of the stairs. Now, they just had to figure out what the hell happened.

“Dean?” Sammy called out as she started to wander around, surveying the area for anything that seemed suspicious. “Dean, are you there?”

When there was no response, Sammy let out a frustrated groan. She continued searching until she noticed the door leading into the kitchen was open. Maybe Dean was in there?

“This better not be some sick joke…” she grumbled, before turning around to look at Sylvie. “Let’s check the kitchen.”

Sylvie followed Sammy into the kitchen, instantly feeling a sense of unease. The place looked… depressing, at least for a fancy mansion. There were also rats scurrying about.

“Ugh, this is— wait, Dean?”

At Sammy’s voice, Sylvie quickly glanced in her direction. At the kitchen table sat Dean, who appeared to be sleeping… but something seemed off. He was completely motionless. He looked like he was sleeping, but Sylvie was quick to notice that he didn’t appear to be breathing.

“Dean, what are you— oh my God, what the fuck?!”

Sammy let out a terrified shriek, and Sylvie flinched when she saw her holding Dean’s bloodied severed head in her hands. Sammy quickly turned around to look at Sylvie, her expression one of complete terror.

“Sammy, what the fuck happened?” Sylvie asked, her eyes widening.

“His head fell off… Dean’s head just fucking… fell off!”

Panicked, Sammy quickly dropped Dean’s head, dashing to the bathroom to vomit. While Sammy was in the bathroom, Sylvie slowly and carefully walked over to where Dean’s decapitated body was, still slumped in the chair. She brought her hand to her mouth, feeling nothing but… shock, and also terror. How the hell had this even happened?

As much as she didn’t want to look, Sylvie couldn’t tear her gaze from Dean’s body, trying to see if she could piece anything together. Instead of his head, there was just a bloody stump.

Sylvie didn’t feel safe here anymore.

A person had to have killed Dean, which meant that there was clearly a fucking murderer in the mansion. The real question was… who the hell did it? It looked as though some kind of animal had done it, but why was Dean propped up in the chair like that? At least to Sylvie, it seemed intentional. Besides, what kind of animal in the mansion could’ve done something like that? So far, Sylvie had only seen rats in this place.

Sammy had also mentioned noises… those noises could’ve been the result of some kind of struggle.

Either way, whatever the hell happened, Sylvie just knew that something was seriously wrong.

Sammy eventually rushed out of the bathroom, practically on the verge of hyperventilating. She seemed really shaken up.

“What’s going on, Sammy?”

Sammy and Sylvie both looked to see Peter now standing in the kitchen, a concerned expression on his face. At a loss for words, Sammy simply gestured to Dean’s body to try and explain what the hell had just happened.

“His head fucking… fell off. Also… why do you have a dick on your face?”

Peter raised an eyebrow in confusion, reaching a hand to feel at his face. When he didn’t notice anything, he looked even more confused.

“What are you talking about?”

Sammy let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. “Nevermind. Don’t worry about it. Just… go get the others.”

“Okay…”

And with those words, Peter disappeared, leaving Sylvie and Sammy alone in the kitchen again with Dean’s mutilated corpse. Sammy had already thrown up, and now Sylvie felt like she was going to be the next person to be sick. This all felt like a nightmare that was coming to life.

Eventually, the rest of the group showed up. All of them looked quite concerned and confused, except for Frank. He just looked more annoyed than anything, which wasn’t surprising at all. When he noticed Dean’s body, though, he drew in a deep breath.

“The fuck is this?” He asked.

Sammy’s eyes nervously darted back to Dean’s body before she met Frank’s gaze. “Dean was just fucking killed.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Frank’s gaze shifted from Sammy to Sylvie, and then back to Sammy. “What the fuck are you two doing down here, anyway?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Sammy sheepishly answered. “I… asked Ava to help me. I heard noises.”

Frank let out a scoff. “Well, you just had to go check it out, huh?”

“I was scared, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever. What I would like to know is what the fuck happened here?”

Sammy looked away from Frank again. “I wish I knew.”

Sylvie sighed, looking up at Frank. “Well, what do you think happened?”

Frank stared at Dean’s headless body before letting out a humorless chuckle. “The fuck do I know?” He snarkily asked. “What does it look like to you?”

“Almost like an animal tore him apart. Like… it just doesn’t seem… human, but a person had to have done it anyway. I’ve only seen rats here.”

Sylvie’s explanation seemed to put everybody on edge, especially Frank and Rickles. Frank let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. He almost seemed more nervous than Rickles was, or Rickles was just better at hiding it.

“No, no, no. I’m not fu— we’re not fuckin’ going there. We are not going there. We’re not doing this shit.”

Sylvie narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Rickles let out a sigh, figuring that he might as well do the explaining. “I heard a story once…” he began. “Three of Lazar’s top guys got pinched a few years ago. The FBI flipped ‘em.”

As Sylvie listened to Rickles’ retelling of the story, she began to feel sick with nerves. Now that she thought about it, the story seemed vaguely familiar. Just hearing Lazar’s name made her anxious, especially since now she knew for sure that he was real and not some bullshit urban myth.

The more Rickles said, the more paranoid Sylvie started to feel. Decapitation, dismemberment… if Rickles was saying what she thought he was saying…

“That’s his signature. Valdez. He’s a fucking animal. And there was no way in and out of that room except for the front door or the twenty-third-story window.”

“No, no…” Sylvie quietly whispered. She started to pace around the kitchen nervously, a million thoughts running through her mind. Valdez is not real. He is not fucking real. It’s just a story, that’s all. Nothing more.

“So, how’d he do it?” Sammy then asked. “Kinda sounds like bullshit to me, really. How would he have been able to get through the window?”

“It’s not fuckin’ bullshit.” Frank scoffed in irritation. “That’s not the first time I heard that story…”

Sylvie stopped her pacing, drawing in a trembling breath. “He’s… he’s right… it’s not bullshit…”

“You’ve heard that story, too?” Sammy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sylvie slowly nodded. She caught Frank glancing at her for a moment, a small smirk on his face. What the hell was that for?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked defensively.

Frank looked away from her, shrugging. “Nevermind.”

Sylvie glanced back at Sammy. “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that story, either. We… we all need to be careful. Really careful.”

“Lambert would be out of his fucking mind if Valdez is here,” Joey said.

Frank then gestured for the group to follow him.

“We’re checking on the girl.”

Frank was leading the way up the stairs, pointing his gun as though he was expecting danger to be lurking just around the corner.

“Alright, let’s game this out,” he said. “If Valdez or anyone else is in here, that means Lambert gave us up. And I don’t buy that.”

“Or,” Joey suggested, “Lazar got to him and beat our location out of him.”

Frank snapped his head around, staring at Joey with an incredulous look. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He asked. “Lambert is a meticulous motherfucker. He’s very, very careful. If he gave us up, that means either one of us did it, or Valdez is in here, and he did it.”

“Or one of us is Valdez,” Joey added.

One of us is Valdez.

Sylvie tried to think. Out of everyone here, she only knew Frank, but she couldn’t picture anybody — including Frank — being responsible for what happened to Dean. Nothing was making any sense.

Once the group reached Abigail’s room, Frank opened the door. The girl was just sitting on the bed, and when she heard the door open, she looked up in slight fear. “Hello?”

Quickly, Frank closed the door, turning to face the group. “She’s fine.”

Rickles, however, wasn’t convinced. “Just because she’s still in there doesn’t mean that Valdez is not here.”

That was when Rickles decided that he didn’t want to be part of this mission anymore. Sylvie wasn’t too far from dropping out, either.

“I’m out,” Rickles said, turning around to leave. As he stepped down the stairs, he looked behind him at Frank for a moment. “You coming?”

Frank simply just scoffed at the question, which was ironic considering he had been seconds away from leaving not that long ago.

Rickles continued to head downstairs, figuring that he wouldn’t waste any more time.

“Suit yourself.”