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Small Town Kid

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If anyone ever wants the definition for a cookie-cutter suburban neighbourhood, all they have to do is grab a map and find your town. You don’t think you can even call it a town; it’s more like a village. Everybody knows everyone, because the roads are laid out like grids and it’s pretty hard to find someone who lives off the beaten track – there is no beaten track in your village. It is non-existent.

The place is kind of dull, but you don’t mind. It’s home. In a way, it’s like living in one big house, because everyone knows their way around and everyone is friends. Well. Sort of. There are a few people that aren’t friends, but you tend to get along with most people.

The bright side to this style of living is that everything new is exciting. Every little thing goes over the top and becomes the centre of attention. Every change is blasted way out of proportion, and it’s pretty cool. Compared to other people in the country, the people in your village/town/thing appreciate the little things.

For example, about three months ago, someone new transferred all the way from a school in Houston to the only high school in your area. That attracted enough attention in itself, but it didn’t stop there.

Dave Strider is probably the coolest person you’ve ever met or heard of. He’s unusually pale and draws weird comics, he’s as sarcastic as Rose, and he is, in the most non-homosexual way possible, rather good looking. He’s got this charm about him; you’re not sure if it’s his accent or his attitude. It’s probably a mix of both.

Of course, you’re not susceptible to it. Half the girls are, and probably a few boys, but it’s not your ‘jam’. In fact, you think there’s something almost…suspicious…about it. Unnatural, even.

He can say anything and someone will praise him for it, no matter how nonsensical it is. It doesn’t stop with his personality. He immediately shot up to the top of the gym class record board, beaten only by Equius in the weightlifting category.

Your name is John Egbert, and you are certain that the new kid in the neighbourhood is a vampire.

--

It started with the little things. He got pissed off in cooking class when you all had to bring in some food starting with the same letter as your name. Not because of that (no matter how sad it is), but because of what happened in the lesson itself. After Gamzee’s Faygo and weird pies were turned down, he brought in some garlic. Dave left in a hurry. Later, it became apparent that he was allergic to garlic. You think that’s a bit stupid. Who can be allergic to garlic? It’s just a vegetable. Isn’t it? God, don’t get technical with garlic. It probably has its own family. Isn’t it an onion? No, don’t be stupid, it’s called garlic because it’s garlic. Or is it? Maybe Dave is allergic to the onion family.

He’s probably the only person that Gamzee openly dislikes. You think that’s an achievement in itself. Gamzee barely ever shares negative thoughts about people, but when he offered pie to everyone but Dave, it was declared the ‘burn of the week’.

The second thing that gathered your attention was when he turned down a trip to the beach. That’s the thing that most people look forward to in your school. A chance to get away from the forests of Washington and go to the beach to soak up some sun. Dave said it wasn’t his jam, and that he had enough sun in Houston. He’s too pale to have spent all that much time in the sun.

Then there was the day when you all had to prick your fingers to get your blood types. He skipped school on that day. That’s when the evidence started to form an outline. You think you owe Feferi for that revelation. She remarked that he’s starting to look a little like Edward from Twilight.

The only things that are missing now, of course, are victims. By missing, you mean that there are no victims. He probably should’ve gone through quite a few people by now. However, you have a reason for that, too. What kind of idiot would move into a town where everyone knows everyone, a town where there hasn’t been a murder in ten years, and then start chowing down on the civilians? The evidence would lead straight to him.

You’ve been keeping an eye on his garden. Unfortunately, he hasn’t gone outside to bury any mysterious (corpses) objects. Nobody has. You know that there are two people living in his house. There’s Dave, and then there’s his older brother, who goes simply by the name of ‘Bro’. You think that’s kind of lame. Apparently, Dave has another brother called Dirk, but he’s off studying robotics at college. You really don’t know why you know this. Oh wait, yes, you do.

You enlisted Terezi to help with your observation of Dave. She was more than happy to help for the sake of ‘justice’. You didn’t tell her that you suspected him of being a vampire. However, eventually, Terezi’s interest in Dave became quite different to yours. She became his biggest fan, and soon you couldn’t stand her weird obsession with his life and how he ‘smells so red’ (which you took as another piece of evidence).

After Terezi’s failure, you were a bit stuck. You thought of asking Vriska for help, but you’re pretty sure that she would laugh at you for it. Or take it too seriously—no, that’s not quite right. She’d probably be overdramatic about it, like she is with her roleplaying games. You wouldn’t change that about her even if you could, but you don’t think it’s appropriate for this sort of investigation. No matter how good at taking care of herself she is, she tends to overestimate her abilities. The last thing you want is her getting hurt.

Despite the overwhelming air of danger, your dad is happier with you than ever. All the research that you do looks like homework and studying to him. You feel a little guilty about tricking him like that, but Vriska’s words come to you in times of need; ‘sometimes it’s necessary to cheat’.

Unfortunately, your friends have started to doubt you just a little bit. Jade thinks it’s one of your elaborate pranks, and Rose thinks you’re being ridiculous. You’ve decided not to tell anyone else after your best friends’ reactions. If your closest chums won’t believe you, who will?

--

“You are out of your fucking mind, Egbert. Jesus Christ, is this a thing that you are actually considering?”

You’re not sure if telling Karkat was a good idea. What the fuck were you thinking? Okay, you do know what you were thinking. You were talking to Gamzee about Dave, which probably wasn’t a good idea either, and Karkat appeared conveniently to tell you to shut up about Dave, for Gamzee’s sake.

As it turns out, Karkat isn’t all that keen on Dave, either, mostly because of the fact that Gamzee doesn’t like him. If Gamzee doesn’t like someone, they must have done something wrong. Mind you, Gamzee can be pretty whack sometimes. There was that one time when he – there is a time and place for such thoughts, and this is neither the time nor the place.

“Come on, Karkat, it makes sense,” you reason. “He wears these weird, stupid, pointy sunglasses all of the time, he’s really pale, he hates garlic, he stayed away from the blood tests, and he’s good at pretty much everything.”

Karkat gives you a look that says ‘you are bullshitting, John’. “You know what I think? You have a thing for him.”

You stare at him. “I do not! Real life relationships aren’t anything like your romcoms! If anything, I hate him! How can you love someone and hate them?”

Karkat opens his mouth as if he’s going to explain, but then shuts it again. He eyes you for a minute or two. “What’s wrong with watching romcoms? If anything, you’re watching too many shitty Nic Cage movies.”

“We’re not going to have an argument over Nic Cage’s coolness.”

“Fucking-- okay, so tell me this. If Dave is, in fact, a vampire, then what the fuck are you going to do about it? Play bad piano until he dies? Hit him with an inflatable hammer? Or splash holy water on him? Jesus, John, you’re not even religious.”

“But you are!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

You take a deep breath, and try not to make it too obvious that you’re looking down at him. “If I want to do the right thing, I’ve got to look into this! And I’m not going in there without any defence. My best source of defence would be…well, Jesus stuff!”

Karkat deadpans. “Your best defence would be ‘Jesus stuff’,” he repeats.

You nod enthusiastically. “Yeah! So obviously, I’m coming to you, because, well, just because this is your area.”

Karkat pushes his overgrown, dark hair out of his eyes. “What is it that you want me to do?”

Your eyes light up and you clap your hands together, causing some of the students passing by in the corridor to give you odd looks. “So you’re going to help?”

Karkat goes a little bit red. “I didn’t fucking say that!”

“Well, I want to look around his house a bit.”

Karkat’s eyes widen and he glares at you. “Newsflash, John, that’s fucking illegal. You can’t just break into people’s houses like that!”

“But it’s for the greater good,” you protest. “Besides, his brother took a newspaper that was dropped outside my house. It was obviously for me and my dad. I need to get it back.”

Karkat groans. “Have you been eating Gamzee’s pies, or something? Because I think you have lost it. Why the fuck would he steal a newspaper? And what’s so damn important about it, anyway?”

“My dad entered a baking contest. Maybe the results for the competition were in it,” you say. You’re not lying. Your dad really did enter a baking contest.

“If you get caught, don’t blame me,” Karkat grumbles. “What are you expecting to find?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Stuff that isn’t normal, I guess.”

Karkat mutters something under his breath. “You don’t even know what you’re looking for. How are they not going to notice you’re in the house with them?”

Your mouth hangs open for a moment, and then you remember your plan. “His brother goes out to do something every night, probably DJ. They play their music really loud. Dave goes out a lot at night, too, so the house should be empty at one point or another.”

“This isn’t right, John.”

You hold your hands up. “I know, I know! I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t have a reason. I’m not going to steal anything from them. Or break anything.”

Karkat chews on his bottom lip, starting to look a little worried. Whether it’s for your sanity or because he’s actually finally decided to believe you, you don’t know.

“What are you going to do if they come back halfway through your search? If they are, like you say, fucking vampires, they’ll make mincemeat out of you.”

“It’s not that hard to climb over a fence, Karkat,” you remind him, rolling your eyes. “We live next-door to each other.”

Karkat grimaces in a clear sign of defeat. “Fine. Seeing as you’re so set on this fucking suicide mission, I’ll come with you. Only because I’m not having you die alone and an idiot. And I want to be there to say ‘I told you so’ when the most dangerous thing they have in their house is a cheese grater.”

You beam at him, and move to pull him into a hug. He pushes you away and swears at you, but you just laugh.

This show is finally on the road.

Chapter Text

days have passed since Karkat agreed to accompany you on your ‘mission’. You were happy to jump straight into it, but Karkat had unfortunately declared that he would back out unless you both thought absolutely everything through. Surprisingly, most of the things were focused around avoiding the mission if possible, rather than ensuring the safety of the thing itself.

The most recent (and hopefully) last request he’s made on the topic is probably going to be asked within the next five minutes, as he is currently standing in front of you, tapping his foot impatiently while you try to pull yourself out of your thoughts.

“John, wake the fuck up,” he snaps. “I didn’t come here to watch you watch nothing.”

You start, and laugh awkwardly. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Look, I thought of something that’s probably worth you thinking about, if you want to keep your fucking sanity.”

You blink. “What is it?”

“You should probably check that there isn’t a chance there’s no chance he’s a vampire.”

You stare at him, probably looking brain-dead all the while. “What?”

He goes slightly red as he repeats himself. “It’s not fucking rocket science! You might want to check that your intentions to break into some idiot’s house and ransack it aren’t fucking pointless. If you can check that there’s a chance he’s not human, you should probably do so.”

You scratch the back of your neck. “Uh, I think I get it…”

He straightens up a little. “Good.”

You hold up a hand. “Wait, wait…so you’re saying that I should do something to check if he’s definitely human before actually going ahead with the plan? As in, if he is, then I won’t do anything?”

Karkat frowns. “God, you’re making it sound really complicated.”

You glare at him accusingly. “You were the one who made it sound that complex!”

He groans. “I can’t believe I even agreed to this. This is fucking crazy. You’re crazy.”

You shrug. “You agreed to it because you think, deep down, that I have a point!”

He facepalms. “Fuck that. What are you going to do?”

You shrug. “Probably throw garlic at him, or something.”

He deadpans. “Throw garlic at him. Wow, way to make it obvious what you’re doing, and kill two fucking birds with one fucking stone – you’ll look crazy at the same time!”

You throw your hands up in exasperation. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know! I was asking you because I expected you to come up with some sort of answer! You came up with this fucking bullshit mission; it wasn’t too much to ask that you think about the obvious!”

“It’s not obvious! You didn’t come up with an answer, either.”

Before Karkat can respond, the bell rings, signalling the end of break and the start of English.

He sends you a dirty look. “Think about it in English. I’ll see you later.”

He stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder, stalking off into the corridors, merging with the masses of students.

You sigh. This is going to be much more complicated than you thought it would be.

--

The only person that you can really talk to in English is Kanaya. Well, not all of the time. Vriska is away today, so that accounts for it, too. Gamzee has also been kicked out of the class for the day because he wrote ‘it’s motherfucking chill, yo’ on a review that was due approximately four weeks ago. Sometimes, he’s kind of comforting for schoolwork. If you haven’t handed something in, if something is severely overdue, you can pretty much always rely on Gamzee to be in the same situation. Except, of course, unlike you, he doesn’t really care. Neither does his dad, apparently. Your dad would probably lecture you if he found out.

You slot into your seat for the class, right next to Kanaya. She nods at you as a greeting, before settling back down to continue reading her book. As childish as it is, you appreciate the fifteen minutes of silent reading you’re allowed before the class itself begins. It gives you time to think. It also gives you time to avoid your teacher’s droning voice. At least it’s not as bad as Terezi’s mum. She teaches Law and Politics, and damn does her voice get screechy sometimes.

You wonder how Terezi can stand having her own mother teaching at the same school that she attends. As much as you love your dad, you would probably die of embarrassment if he came to teach at school. God knows he’d bring in cake. Every day. Cake.

You peek down to see what Kanaya’s reading. Your lips spread into a smile as you see the title of the book. It’s undoubtedly another one of her vampire romance novels. It’s somewhat ironic, actually, considering the current situation.

It suddenly comes to the front of your mind again. You had almost forgotten about the whole Dave thing! You should probably use this time to think…

What gives a vampire away as being a vampire? How could you find out about it without giving yourself away? You hum, trying to think of a way. More than anything, you don’t want to set him off. If you make it obvious that he is a vampire, he might just give up and try to kill as many of you as he can. Though, he doesn’t seem like that sort of person…

The reality of the situation suddenly hits you. If you are right in assuming that he’s a vampire, this is really serious. People could die!

Wait. Don’t they have funky-coloured eyes? Red, right? That would explain the shades…that would really, really explain the shades. They’re pretty much opaque, at least from the outside. That really makes sense!

You could probably try tearing them off, but that wouldn’t work. If he is a vampire, he’d have no trouble in avoiding you. And then he’d probably be suspicious of you for a long while. Maybe you could trick him into taking them off…that is your speciality. After all, your chumhandle wasn’t ghostyTrickster for nothing! Well, it isn’t ghostyTrickster anymore, but it’s probably not a good idea for you to get into that right now.

You give yourself a mental pat on the back, before turning to Kanaya.

“Kanaya?” you whisper.

She looks up from her book. “Mhm?”

“Sorry to bother you and all that horseshit, but can I ask you a question?”

She nods, evidently trying to be quiet.

“If you wanted to see somebody’s eyes, and they constantly wear sunglasses, how would you go about trying to see them?”

Kanaya looks at you for a while, before saying, “I would ask them if I could see their eyes.”

You make a face. “Way too blunt.”

She raises an eyebrow. “This is the first time you’ve considered such things. You must have been thinking about this particular issue for quite a while.”

You nod. “But do you have any other ideas?”

She pauses. “Well, if you are talking about the person who I think you’re talking about, it would not be a lie if you said that their shades do not suit them at all, so perhaps you could offer them another pair.”

You blink. That’s not a bad idea. Okay, it might come across as a little bit weird, but you’re pretty sure you have a pair of shades that are in a good condition floating around somewhere…you never wear shades, anyway. They don’t suit you, according to Kanaya. You’re starting to wonder if she has something against them.

“Okay, thanks!”

She doesn’t go back to reading her book. She clears her throat, and asks you another question.

“John, is this about Dave’s apparent vampirism?”

You freeze up, your eyes narrowing. “Who told you that?”

It’s not that you mind Kanaya knowing. It’s just that if this has gotten out, then Dave could already know what you’re up to.

She sighs. “Rose. She’s worried about you, you know. She says you’re obsessed with this.”

You tense. “Well, I know what I’m doing. I’m actually helping!”

“John, please be careful,” she says seriously. “You don’t want to underestimate something so severe.”

You tilt your head. You’re about to ask her what she means by that, but the teacher finally notices your conversation, and tells you to shush.

--

On the way home from school, you explain your idea to Karkat.

He gives you an odd look once you finish. “Don’t you think that that’d be a little bit weird? If some random fuckass came up to me and offered me shades, I probably wouldn’t accept them. Especially if they have a reputation as a prankster.”

You shrug, trying to look indifferent. “Dave hasn’t been around long enough to know of my tricksy ways,” you say, wiggling your eyebrows.

Karkat makes a weird noise, halfway between a laugh and a groan. “Fine. It’s still fucking weird, though. What are you going to do if he doesn’t accept?”

“I’m going to go ahead with the original plan.”

Karkat opens his mouth to protest, but he changes his mind. “So, when are you planning to go ahead with it?”

“Tomorrow, the same day I give him the shades.”

Karkat nods. “So what, am I going to come over tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah, I guess. You know, now I think about it, if Dave really is a vampire, he probably isn’t dumb enough to try some new sunglasses on right in front of everyone. He’d have to be an idiot-pire to expose his eyes.”

Karkat snorts. “An idiot-pire.”

You laugh. “We could drop by yours after school and pick up the stuff you need.”

“That would make sense. My parents are always out at work when I come back, so it’d be easier to get in the house without being either hugged or yelled at to death.”

“Great!”

As you reach the fork in the road where Karkat turns off, he asks you one final question.

“How did you think of the whole shades idea?”

You smile wryly. “I didn’t. Kanaya did.”

--

When you get home, your dad is baking. Again.

You throw your bag on the sofa, and go into the kitchen. The air smells of cake and your dad’s pipe’s smoke.

“Hey, Dad,” you greet him.

“Hey, son. How was school?”

“It was cool, I guess.”

“Anything happen?”

“No, not really.”

It always goes like this. You go to talk to your dad, but there’s never much really to say. So you sort of stand there awkwardly, waiting for the conversation to move on or for some excuse to leave.

You decide you might as well ask if you can have Karkat over for dinner. Usually, you don’t have to. But this time, you want to be extra sure that it’s okay with your dad. You don’t want to turn up with Karkat to find your dad talking with his work-friends about God knows what.

“Dad, I was thinking, about my friends, and…I was wondering if one of them could come over for dinner?”

Your dad looks away from his baking in the first time in the conversation. “Odd of you to ask, son. You know your friends can come over whenever they like, so long as none of you have prior arrangements.”

You nod. “Yeah, I just wanted to double check.”

“As it happens, I was thinking of inviting a few people over,” he says, like it’s not very important.

“Huh? Who?”

Your dad brushes the flour off of his hands. “I was thinking about asking the Striders over. They are our new neighbours, after all. I left them alone for a while to settle in, because they seemed like quite introverted people, but I completely forgot about getting to know them.”

You freeze, and your mouth drops open as you gawp at your dad.

“What?!”

Your father looks equally alarmed. “What is it? You and the Strider boy do get along, don’t you?”

You stare at him. “Uh…yeah, I guess…”

He turns back to his baking. “Well, there should be no problem, then.”

You hurry out of the room, and you feel yourself start to panic.

Because your dad intends on breaking the number one rule when it comes to vampires:

Never, ever invite them in.

Chapter Text

You feel a little guilty about stealing your dad’s old shades. By old, you mean really old. They’re from times when your dad was ‘hip’ rather than ‘a great dad’. You can’t imagine that time. You don’t think it ever existed. That might be because you didn’t exist at the time, but whatever, that’s not important. You have to focus on your mission. This is only the first part. Besides, your dad doesn’t exactly wear the aviators anymore, thank God. You found them behind his bedroom’s bin. It looked like they’d been there for a while. It’s a definite sign your dad never wants to see the era of cool again. He’s cool in a different way now.

Enough with the dad-rambling. You have a world to save.

--

“Wow, Egbert, where the fuck did you get those?” Karkat asks, sounding impressed. “Way to consider Strider’s style, he’ll probably staple them to his stupid head.”

You grin when you realise that Karkat has basically praised both Dave and your father’s fashion senses.

“They were just lying around in my house. Since when did you know about fashion?” you ask genuinely.

Karkat frowns. “Fuck you. I’m not a tasteless jerk. Spending time with Kanaya and Eridan probably helps.”

“Eridan? I can’t think of him as anything but the guy from the ‘Threw it on the Ground’ video.”

“His style might be incredibly shitty and tasteless, but he doesn’t throw any random shit on. He takes his time with his appearance, and also spams me with stupid, pointless messages about what clothes he should wear, even though it’s a given that he’s going to wear those fucking hipster glasses, so I don’t really get why the fuck he asks me about it, especially as he’ll never take my advice for any fucking thing—”

“Karkat. Shut up.”

He scratches the back of his head. “Fuck off. You better wipe the dust off the shades, though.”

You do so.

“When should I give them to him?”

“Probably when your social life can’t get any worse, and when you have nothing to lose.”

“So, at break?”

He lets out a weird laugh. That weird one he does that doesn’t last for all that long, and he tries to do it without smiling. He looks a bit like a dying crab when he tries. “Yeah.”

--

Okay, now that the moment is here, it’s much scarier than it was in your head. You could literally come across as clinically insane. Is that even a phrase? Oh, there’s also the fact that he could decide his cover is blown, and kill you. There’s no getting away from him. You are in neutral territory; you wouldn’t make it to a house. This is pretty much a death trap. As much as you like jokes and pranks, you don’t want it to say ‘died because he gave a vampire some shades’ on your grave.

Rose is looking at you, and you swear her eyes are burning into your mind. She’s probably visualising you doing what you’re about to do, even though she has no idea how far you’re looking into your theory about Dave.

You see Dave turn the corner to go sit where he normally does, alone, and you stand up from your seat.

“Where are you going?” Jade asks.

You glance at her. “I gotta go pee.”

She giggles at your choice of words. Mission accomplished.

“You went to the restroom just before break,” Rose says. “I was in your class.”

Shit.

“Excuse me for needing the toilet,” you grumble.

You walk away from the table, and you pass Karkat, who is sitting by the wall with Gamzee and Tavros. He nods at you once, and you nod back. You feel ridiculous. You feel a bit like a character in a joke spy movie. It’d probably be called James Pond. You don’t even want to think about that. You only have time for true talent.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you turn the corner and see him sitting alone at the far end of the wall. You jump back into the safety of the main part of the playground, and you catch Rose giving you a weird look. You mouth ‘I really have to pee’ at her. You hope she’ll believe that you’re doing the ridiculous pee dance.

Your heart is still going crazy. Dave is probably thinking ‘what is that delicious smell’ right now. Oh God, that’s creepy. That’s really, really fucking creepy. He sounds like an old creeper. He might be.  He could be, for all you know. Vampires have really stupid aging systems. Actually, how is ‘Bro’ related to Dave?

You take a deep breath, and cross your chest, praying that you didn’t do that wrong, and walk down the path in an attempt at being nonchalant. That really isn’t your game. You should probably leave it to Dave.

You also should really, really calm down. It’s not that difficult. You are a hero. You will be a hero. Karkat will also be a hero. He will be the Robin to your Batman. You did not steal that from anyone. Also, that makes it sound like the two of you have a bromance going on, which is totally not happening. Karkat would probably kill you if you suggested such a thing.

You realise that you’ve walked past Dave. Shit.

You try to slyly make your way back, but it’s no use. You have to walk back obviously.

Just as you get to him, you hear his voice.

“Real smooth, Egbert.”

You freeze. “Uh, yeah. I guess.”

He looks up at you through those ridiculous shades, and you remember why you approached him at all in the first place.

This is stupid. This is a ridiculous plan. What the fuck were you thinking?

You wonder how he survives in the sun. He stays in the shade a lot of the time. You think there was a rumour once that he was an albino, and you’re starting to think that maybe that was the right answer.

“Other than knowing the secret of the classic Strider swag, is there anything that you want from me?”

“Not really.”

“It’s okay, John, if you want my hot body, that’s cool.”

“What?”

It would be comforting if he gave you a weird look. But he just stares at you. It hits you that he didn’t say what you thought he did a couple of seconds ago. He didn’t say anything at all. You have lost it. You have officially lost it.

You haven’t had enough sleep. And you have blown your chance. Even though you were thinking that he was a creeper just a few minutes ago, he probably thinks that you’re the creeper.

He’s fucking with your head. He has to be. You are not thinking straight.

You move to walk away, having humiliated yourself enough.

“Shit, where did you get those?”

You stop. “Get what?”

“Those pieces of God-sent fucking glory stuck to your ass. Even stores bowed in their perfection. The shelves said ‘oh great aviators, we cannot hold the sex that is you, please, forgive us for being so fucking impudent for assuming that we could present you, you deserve nothing less than an altar of godhood’, and so the great tragedy of a vintage aviator-less America came into existence.”

This is a miracle. This is a literal miracle. Just as you were going to give up on your plan, he actually rescued it for you. Now you just have to do some fast talking.

“Oh, what, these things?” You pull the shades out of your pocket. They technically weren’t on your ass. They were in a side pocket of your shorts. But whatever, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

He nods.

“I dunno, I just have them. They don’t really suit me, though, do you want them?”

You can see he is having trouble containing himself.

“Are you fucking serious? Shit, man, you don’t know what you’ve just done. I will write a rap singing your dorky praise. Do you have any idea how much these cost?”

“I don’t really care; I don’t like them.”

“No taste,” he tuts.

You are the best liar. Ever. Vriska has taught you well.

You hold them out to him, and he all but snatches them off you.

You see him raise his hands to his own shades, but freezes, as if remembering something. He lowers them again, but holds onto the pair you just gave him.

That is definitely suspicious.

You hang around awkwardly, but he doesn’t do anything. He seems to be ignoring you. Great.

You honestly couldn’t be happier to hear the bell ring.

--

The next time you see Karkat is at the end of the day, and you realise that you are going to embark on your second journey to death of this Friday in a few hours. Anyone sane would think you’re suicidal. But you don’t really want to die.

You can survive pretty much anything, though. When you were about seven, you played a game with Vriska that she called ‘Flarp’. You think it’s actually ‘FLARP’, but you don’t really care enough to look into it. Anyway, Vriska was this pirate called Mindfang, who she has carried through her entire time at school, using her for every single creative writing assignment possible, as well as that one history essay on pirates. She forced you to walk the plank. Into a paddling pool. It was humiliating more than anything, but at the time, you didn’t really care.

“How did it go?” Karkat asks.

“It went…weirdly, more than anything,” you admit.

He asks you to elaborate, and you do.

“Is making you lose your mind a power that vampires have?” Karkat inquires.

You shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Do your research!”

You laugh. “I did. Kanaya mentioned that the vampires in Twilight have powers.”

“I don’t think Dave is a twipire.”

“Neither do I.”

Getting Karkat’s ‘weapons’ was probably more awkward than your meeting with Dave, and that’s saying something.

Karkat’s dad appeared out of practically nowhere, and started yelling at him. In Spanish. Karkat’s accent actually changed to adapt to the language, which is always unnerving, and he yelled right back. You recognised ‘Iglesia’, and that’s probably because it’s some famous dude’s surname.

It took you about an hour to get out of there. At one point, Karkat’s dad gestured at you and started shouting more. Karkat went red, and you probably think he told his dad that he was embarrassing him.

A few houses away from your own, you ask Karkat what that was all about.

“He gave me shit for spending time with my ‘pals’ when I should be studying. Then he told me off for taking the stuff that I forgot to take to church a few weeks ago. Then he told me that I’m making a fool of myself in front of my friend, that friend being you, and then I told him that that’s his fucking fault, not mine, so he got angry at me for swearing.”

“Wow. I never argue with my dad.”

“No need to rub it in,” Karkat grumbles, and you don’t apologise until you’re inside your house.

Your dad is out, thank God; probably still at work. He’ll get back at around seven, which means you won’t be able to go out until past then. You don’t want him to come home to find the house empty.

“So, when are we going to do it?”

“That’s what she said.”

He freaks out about that. “What the fuck, John? Did you lure me here to fuck me up, or something? Jesus Christ, I am glad I have all this crap with me.”

“That’s probably more blasphemous than anything I’ve ever said.”

“Shut up. But seriously, when are we going to raid Strider’s?”

You shrug. “When both him and his weirdo brother are out.”

He deadpans. “That’s kind of vague. I do have a house to get back to.”

You nod. “I know. You can just call your dad and tell him where you are.”

“When I’m raiding a house? Oh, yeah, that’s a fucking brilliant idea. ‘Oh, hey dad, just going through some harmless Texan’s house, no reason, nah, he’s definitely not a vampire, I’m just being a criminal; you were right when you said I had problems. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault, it’s the fucking douchebag of a friend I hang around with. Yeah, the one you saw. John’.”

“Come on, Karkat, you know what I meant!”

“We have to be clear with each other now, John.”

“Damn, you’re so serious about this.”

“Obviously. You asked me to be.”

You can’t help but smile at that. Your friends are the best. Speaking of, you think that Jade and Rose might be feeling a little bit confused as to why you aren’t hanging around with them as much as you used to.

Maybe you should get in contact when them and explain the outcome of your mission.

If you’re not dead.

Chapter Text

The time is six forty-five, and your dad is due home any minute now. He’s always been a person that values punctuality. Not that there’s a particular time he has to come home; that’d be ridiculous. Still, he doesn’t like to go out for a long time without telling you. He still treats you like you’re thirteen.

“You nervous?” you ask Karkat.

His neck snaps up and he looks at you. His knuckles are fifty shades lighter than his normal skin tone – they’re clenching the armrests of the armchair so tight it’s almost like the skin on his hands will rip. It looks slightly comedic, what with Karkat being so small and all. The chair is too big for him.

“No,” Karkat replies. “I haven’t got anything to be scared of.”

He doesn’t sound sure about that.

“Imagine if he is normal, though,” you muse. “That’d be…awkward. Or something.”

“If he turns out to be normal, I’ll use this fucking stake on you,” he threatens, but it’s a bluff, as always.

You shrug. “Maybe he’s not a vampire. I mean, since when could vampires fuck with your head?”

Karkat glares at you. “You better not be having second thoughts. I didn’t go through being verbally abused by my dad for no reason.”

“Come on, it can’t have been that bad,” you say.

“He spoke in Spanish. That means bad. Half of the shit he said would get me kicked to the principle’s office. It would be bleeping like hell in a movie.”

“That’s the sort of stuff that does get you sent to the principle’s office,” you remind him. “You really should start a swear jar.”

He looks like he’s going to say something to you, but you get up and walk out of the front room door. He follows after you, anxious.

“Where the fuck are you going?” he demands.

“Standing by the front door,” you reply.

“The gym teacher would be amazed to see you take charge like this,” he mutters.

You have to admit. This is a little backwards. It’s not at all like Karkat to let you boss him around, and it’s not like you to want to order people around, either. You’re usually pretty easygoing. Maybe that’s why people have been so concerned with your change of attitude to things in general.

“Have they left yet?” Karkat asks.

It takes you a minute to process what he wants you to do, and you walk over to the window. You stare at the Striders’ house. All of the lights are off, and Bro’s (you feel stupid calling him that, but you don’t know what else to call him) car is gone, too. It’s a piece of shit. An ironic piece of shit.

“His brother’s gone out,” you tell him. “I think Dave has, too. But I don’t know.”

Karkat thinks for a moment. “We should ring on the doorbell, and if anyone answers, then we’ll leave it.”

When it comes down to it, Karkat is actually pretty smart. You have a hunch that if he was the one who suspected Dave, the whole thing would work out a lot better. You think for a moment about a world in which Karkat finds out, and persuades you. To be honest, you think that that sounds more realistic than what actually happened.

Your own front door clicks a little bit, and you both tense.

It’s just your dad.

“Oh, hello, boys, what’s going on?” he asks. “Did you want dinner?”

You groan. Of course your dad would ask that question first.

“No, Dad. Me and Karkat are going out,” you say, pointing to Karkat with your thumb. He nods.

Your dad raises an eyebrow.

“Oh God, no, not like that!” you say. “Jeez, Dad, you’re my dad!”

He stares at you both, and shakes his head. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

Karkat is bright red. He gets flustered so easily.

“We’ll be back in about an hour or two, okay?” you say.

“Where are you going?” Dad inquires.

“Uh…wandering around the streets like hoodlums? I don’t know, dad, jeez…I mean, we’re going to Eridan’s house.”

Karkat looks at you incredulously.

“Eridan? Isn’t that that rich boy from the other side of town?” your dad asks. Apparently, he’s in the know.

You nod. “Um…yeah. Him and Karkat are great friends, and you always go on about making friends with friends’ friends so you have a big circle of friends, and…”

Karkat looks like he could punch you right now.

Your dad smiles. “Okay, boys. Just stay safe.”

You wince. If only he knew just what you were getting into. Or not. That sounds stupid. You can’t really picture your dad defeating a demon from hell. Or wherever vampires come from.

“Bye, Mr. Egbert,” Karkat grumbles.

The two of you leave the house.

“Eridan? Seriously?” Karkat demands, as you walk down the path to Dave’s house.

“You guys are friends,” you say.

You start to feel a little bit nervous as you walk up Dave’s path. It looks like a normal enough house, but there’s something very sinister about it.

It’s exactly the same as yours, in terms of building. It’s got the same amount of windows at the front, although they have blinds rather than curtains. Dave’s front yard is also void of flowers, unlike yours.

You gulp as you slow to a halt in front of his front door. You and Karkat exchange a glance. This could be it. This could be the end of your lives. You could die. Damn, you haven’t even completed BlackOps yet…

You inhale deeply, and slowly raise your hand to press the doorbell.

Karkat watches it like you’re trying to balance a cent on the one finger.

Suddenly, he whacks your hand out of the way.

“What the fuck, man?” you ask, irritated. Your concentration is broken, and the sinister aura is shattered.

“Look,” he hisses, and points at the door.

“I don’t see anything,” you reply, squinting.

“Look harder,” Karkat snaps.

You roll your eyes, and clean your glasses on your shirt. You peer at the doorbell, and then you see something. A glint of light. Barely, but surely, there’s a thin, transparent wire from just in front of the doorbell to all the way up to the weird little shelter that houses have over their doors.

“What’s this for?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” Karkat replies, “but it’s probably just one of many tripwires.”

You nod in agreement.

With no way to check if Dave’s home, you decide to go ahead with the mission anyway.

“What now?” Karkat asks.

“There’s always a window open at the back of his house,” you reply. “I don’t know what room it is, but…”

You creep around the side of his house, and end up in his garden. Compared to your dad’s garden, it’s really not that much to look at. It’s just a lawn. You snort when you imagine Dave’s ‘cool’ brother mowing the lawn, or blasting weeds with a weedwhacker. A weedwhacker from hell.

Karkat looks around, and then spots the window. “You can’t be serious,” he says.

The window is actually tiny, which makes you think that it leads to the bathroom. Karkat’s the only one small enough to fit through it.

“It’s the only way in,” you say. “I’d go through if I was as short as you. Once you do, just unlock the back door, and hey presto, we’re in.”

Karkat looks uncertain, but when you give him a leg-up, he grasps onto the window frame. If he were any heavier, he would break it. He hangs there for a moment, neither getting down nor going through.

“Come on, Karkat, Dave won’t kill you if he’s on the toilet,” you say.

“Do vampires even crap?” he asks, before falling through the window.

There’s a small thud, followed by an ‘ow’, and you know he’s okay.

You hear footsteps through the house, and that’s comforting. If Dave was home, you would’ve heard his footsteps. Unless he wears Hush Puppies, which you highly doubt.

You rub the back of your neck uncertainly. The sun’s set already, which is odd, but you try not to think about it too much. You feel the hair on your arms rise as a chill runs down your spine. You try to keep reminding yourself that your house is right next door. You’ll be safe. You think.

There’s a quiet clicking noise, and you see Karkat standing in the house, the backdoor swung open. He gestures at you to come over. He doesn’t look too shaken, so you suppose he hasn’t seen anything worth mentioning.

You walk into the house, and you bite your lip reflexively. You shouldn’t be here. This is illegal, like Karkat said when you first proposed the idea.

The door drifts shut, and you breathe in sharply.

“Got your equipment?” you ask.

Karkat pats his backpack. “Yeah.”

“Then let’s do this,” you say, trying to sound brave.

Karkat’s hand reaches towards a light switch, and you shake your head, batting his hand out of the way.

He glares at you. “What?”

“What if he comes back and notices the lights are on?”

Karkat’s glare fades a little bit. “Oh. Oh yeah.”

“Keep an eye out for tripwires,” you remind him. “And stay quiet.”

He nods, and the two of you start to explore.

You allow your eyes to adjust to the (lack of) light, and look around. The back door leads straight into the kitchen, which is a pretty normal thing for a back door to do. The kitchen itself looks normal. There’s a half eaten pizza on the table. It’s a ‘meat feast’ one. Very suspicious.

You bite back a grin, trying to stay serious, and look around the kitchen. The cupboards are filled with ready made food, but something tells you not to open the fridge. You don’t know why. You just…don’t think it’d be a good idea to open it.

There’s a distinct lack of photographs on the wall. Of course a vampire wouldn’t have photos; they don’t show up on camera. Still, Dave’s family doesn’t exactly seem like a family. You can hardly imagine him saying ‘cheese’ for the camera. There is something framed, though.

You approach it, and furrow your brow as you try to focus on it. You can’t really make out what it is. You still can’t. It doesn’t even look like anything. It’s just a shitty drawing.

You walk away from the photograph. There hasn’t been any sign of vampirism here, but there’s more than enough proof to certify that Dave’s family is really fucking weird.

You can practically hear your own heartbeat. Okay, no you can’t. But the point is, your heart is beating really fast, and it’s so quiet that there’s that ringing sound you get when you try to listen too hard.

You glance around to see where Karkat is, but he’s not in the same room as you anymore. You panic a bit.

“Shit,” you mutter, and scramble out of the kitchen.

You see a glimpse of Karkat in the living room. He’s poking around, but you can tell he’s just scouring the Striders’ movie collection. With a disapproving look on his face.

You chuckle quietly, before making your way over and –

Shit. Your foot snags on something, and you hear something creak. Karkat’s head whips around, but it’s too late. You look up, and a trapdoor above you opens. You close your eyes and prepare for…

A bunch of stuffed toys hitting you on the head? The sheer amount of the things knocks you down, but after thrashing around for a few moments, you realise that they’re harmless. They are pretty weird, though.

Karkat picks one up in disgust, and looks at it. He turns it so its face is pointing in your direction.

Its nose is disturbingly long. It kind of looks like a…

You shake your head. No.

“Fucking hell,” Karkat grumbles. “I thought you were in serious trouble.”

You hold in a laugh. “I think I was. I’ve probably been mentally scarred.”

“We’ve got to put them back,” Karkat tells you.

“Oh, right,” you say, your voice dropping to a whisper.

You feel yourself get really worried for a moment. How are you supposed to put them back? What if Dave walks in while the two of you are putting them away? This could take a really long time.

The ringing in your ears is back, and you really don’t like how quiet it is. You feel like you should get out of there, but you’re not done yet, and you don’t know when another opportunity like this will arise. Especially since Karkat has promised not to come back if everything looks a-okay.

Karkat pauses, before emptying all of the weapons out of his bag.

You stare at him, silently asking him what he’s doing.

He starts picking up all of the ‘plush rumps’, as one of their labels deems them, and putting them in the bag. For a strange moment, you think Karkat’s going to steal them, but then you catch on.

You scoop a few up in your arms, but you can’t bring yourself to think of them as simple soft toys. They’re too…weird.

Soon enough, they’re all in the bag, which is threatening to burst open. Karkat motions at you to bend down, and you do, confused.

You lurch forwards even further as he treads on your back, tiptoeing to pour the contents of his bag back into the trapdoor-room. Before the toys can tumble out again, he slams the trapdoor shut, and hops off your back.

“Jesus, Karkat,” you mutter, rubbing your back.

He stares at the trapdoor for a moment, before apparently being satisfied, and putting back all of the equipment into his bag. For some reason, you don’t feel right putting all the Jesus stuff into a bag that was filled with the plush rumps only moments ago. You have a feeling those things are used for pretty nasty business.

“Did you find anything?” you whisper.

Karkat shakes his head. You do too.

You gesture at the stairs, and you hear Karkat gulp. You approach them cautiously, and stop in front of them.

You listen for a few moments. It’s still as silent as ever, but the stairs are really dark. You’ve never really appreciated darkness.

The two of you exchange a glance, and you decide that it’s probably safer upstairs than it is right next to the front door. If Dave came in, the two of you would be busted. Come to think of it, you’re more scared of his brother. Whether or not the dude’s a vampire, you have no idea what he’s like, and if he raised Dave, well…he’s got to be pretty unpredictable.

Despite being structurally identical to yours, Dave’s house is somehow a lot more…modern. You suppose it’s because the father figure is still ‘hip’.

You find yourself holding your breath, and you don’t know why.

You creep up the stairs, Karkat close behind you. When you step on the sixth step, it creaks so loud it feels like the entire world can hear it.

Both of you freeze, and your eyes squeeze shut instinctively, hands raised above your face. Karkat nudges you, and you look back at him. He jerks his head forward impatiently, and you shudder, moving on.

You’re finally off the creepy-as-fuck stairs. If Karkat goes down first, you’ll warn him about the stairs. Being first is kind of intimidating.

You wipe your forehead. Oh, gross, you’re sweating. You’re clammy, actually. A cold sweat. Are you really that scared?

“Come on, John, this was your idea,” you whisper to yourself. “Man up.”

Upstairs looks just as normal as downstairs, except all of the doors are shut. Part of you freaks out about that, but you reason that it’s normal. There are only four doors. They’re probably all bedrooms. You don’t shut your own bedroom door, but you imagine that Dave is probably more concerned with privacy than you are.

You notice that Karkat has gone down the other side of the hallway, so you decide to turn left. There’s only a little bit of hallway left, leading to one door completely isolated from the others. Great. Why did you have to get stuck with the scary door?

You check for tripwires, but there aren’t any. There’s no excuse not to open this door. Your hand slowly reaches for the doorknob, and it wraps around it, twisting slowly, hesitantly. Your eyes shut again, and you find yourself whispering “please” repeatedly.

Since when did this get so serious?

You sigh with relief when you see that the most frightful thing in the room is a toilet. It’s only a bathroom. A second bathroom. There are only two people in this house.

“Rich bastards,” you mutter.

You don’t have time to wonder what exactly it is Dave’s brother does. Karkat’s screech pierces your ears and the silence, and you slam the bathroom door shut, sprinting the short distance over to where Karkat is.

He’s standing in front of an opened door, and he’s shaking, his back turned to you. You relax slightly when it hits you that he’s okay, just visibly shaken. You’re shaking too.

“What, what is it, what happened?” you ask, wrenching him back towards you, so he faces you.

He shakes his head, but his pupils are still slightly dilated. “I…fuck, something hit me in the face.”

“What?”

“A doll-thing, it’s creepy as fuck,” he mutters.

You blink. “You scream like a girl.”

He scowls, bending down to pick something up.

“You would too, if this came flying at your fucking face,” he snaps, shoving the puppet in your face.

You stumble back, because damn that thing is scary.

It’s a marionette, you think. There are no strings. Its face is an ashen white, and there are two creepy red circles painted onto its cheeks. It’s kind of like a hamster in that big-cheeked respect. Its grin is pretty weird, too; a big white one with one gold, shiny tooth. Its getup is slightly ridiculous, but its eyes are the creepiest things you’ve ever seen.

Ice blue, big and round and way out of proportion. Three painted on eyelashes are the finishing touches. This thing is fucking terrifying.

You shudder, and take it gently from Karkat, as if moving it around too much would bring it to life. You look around, trying to figure out where it came from. The most important thing is leaving things exactly how they were when you got there. That’s a lesson your dad taught you. You never suspected it would be so important.

“It was probably on top of the door,” you say, and gently put it up there.

“How do you know that?” Karkat asks.

“Typical prank. Always works,” you answer.

“Obviously,” he states. “Why d’you think it’s there?

“I don’t really know. I guess it was probably a prank by Dave or on Dave.”

“It’s not funny,” Karkat comments.

“The prankster reaps the benefits. Always.”

“Shut up, John.”

You don’t argue. You don’t want to be any noisier than necessary, and to be honest, you really think you should go. As in, now. It feels like Dave could waltz in any second, and then you’d…

You picture it in your head. Two boys missing. Your dad would come looking for you, definitely. Then he’d ‘disappear’. And then all of your friends…

You shake your head. You’ve come too far to have regrets. You might as well search this room quickly and get out.

You instantly realise that this is Dave’s room. There’s a fancy Mac in the corner, and you roll your eyes. Typical. You also see a few papers lying around, some with notes, and some with those weird characters he draws. One of them looks a bit like you. You haven’t seen that guy before.

You shake your head. There’s no way it’s you.

You and Karkat carefully browse through things, and you open his wardrobe. You don’t know what you expect to find. Narnia? No. There are just a lot of clothes in the thing. You shake your head, shutting the door.

You walk over, and your leg hits something. You curse quietly, stumbling forwards. Your hand hits something else, and you could’ve sworn you heard a clicking noise, but you draw back from the cause of the pain in your knee. It’s just his bed.

“Oh my fucking God,” Karkat says, and you turn around.

He slowly picks something up, and you struggle to focus on it. It looks like a shirt.

There are butterflies in your stomach, but they’re not the nice kind. Your heart is in your throat and it feels like your limbs have turned to Jell-o. You really did not expect this.

The shirt is absolutely drenched in a dark red liquid, and the faint smell of iron only seals the fact that it’s blood. It’s crumbling off the fabric slightly because it’s drying.

Karkat’s lower lip trembles. You make eye contact with him.

You have never been so scared in your entire life.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” you say urgently, trying to be brave. Your voice wavers.

You both dash towards the stairs, but then you hear it. The front door rattles.

You are screwed. You are so, so screwed. How could you have thought this was a good idea? Idiot, idiot, idiot John!

You don’t want to risk going into an unexplored room.

You and Karkat run back into Dave’s room, carefully shutting the door.

You make for the wardrobe, but Karkat shakes his head and dives under the bed, rolling against the wall. You look around, panicking.

“Bro?” you hear Dave call.

The sixth stair creaks.

You have no choice but to join Karkat under the bed, this is so fucking stupid, this is—

Karkat slams his hand over your mouth, and your quick breaths become non-existent. Karkat follows suit.

Dave’s door is pushed open.

“Fuck,” he hisses. He must’ve come across that puppet-thing.

“Fucking Cal,” he repeats, and you see his pale hands pick the puppet (‘Cal’) up.

You turn your head quickly to stare at Karkat, only to find him giving you exactly the same look you’re giving him. It’s the “what the fuck are we supposed to do” look.

You see Dave’s feet tread along his floor, and he starts to hum some sort of song that you’ve never heard in your entire life.

He shuffles around, and it hits you then that he might not even leave the room, because he said something about not watching TV much in class once, he could just stay in his room all the time, and of course he doesn’t sleep, oh no, wait, yes he does, but fuck, he won’t sleep during the night…how does he even come into school, why doesn’t he burn the fuck up—

“Oh, Egbert,” he sighs.

You freeze up. Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh G—

There’s a small clicking noise, and you realise that he’s putting on sunglasses. The ones you gave him.

Thank fuck.

“Oh,” he says.

You see him shift backwards a bit, and you know he’s bending down, he’s going to see you, he’s going to see you, fuck, fuck fuck…

You screw your eyes shut tight, but you don’t feel any pain.

You open one eye to see Dave picking up the bloodstained (soaked) shirt.

“Why can’t a Laundromat do this shit,” he mutters.

He walks off, out of the room, and you hear the bathroom door shut.

You and Karkat glance at each other. It’s now or never.

You scramble out from under the bed, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you practically fall down the stairs. Your heart is pumping so fast that you think Dave will be able to smell his equivalent of dinner—

You run out of the front door, Karkat right behind you. He shuts the door quietly, and you swear you’ve never run so fast in your entire life.

You run over to your house, and fumble with the keys.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter, and you burst into your own home, slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

Karkat collapses against it, sliding right down until he’s a little ball at the foot of it. He brings his knees up to his chest, and buries his head in his arms. You hear quiet sniffling sounds, only barely audible above the sound of your dad’s favourite television programme.

You don’t know what to think. You were so excited for this possibility, but now you want anything but the reality of what you’ve just discovered. You don’t know what to do.

You also don’t know that the clicking noise was the sound of Dave’s camera taking a photo of Karkat Vantas standing in the corner of Dave’s own room at seven forty-five this evening.