For the Hopeless

Hayden let her barely burning cigarette slip to the ground at her feet, where she crushed it with the sole of a black, two-inch platform. In retrospect, a pair of sneakers would have been better for this particular "mission," but the heels had looked so much better with her outfit. Not just anything could match a black, ruffled skirt and white halter, after all. Besides, she'd teleported close enough to the club to keep from hurting her feet too badly.

"The Crimson Fang," she mumbled to herself, glancing at the glowing sign peeking around the edge of the alley's entrance. "What a cliché." Of course, the club she frequented, and the reason she'd dressed in her clubbing clothes, was just down the street, and its name wasn't much better: Silver. Not cliché, but still not all that creative. And nothing inside the place was silver, so it didn't even make sense. The owner's favorite color, maybe? Who knew.

At the soft sounds of a purring Corvette, the girl started toward the end of the alley, where she could see a thick blanket of snow still falling. The alleyway itself was narrow, the roofs of the buildings to either side nearly meeting in the middle; thus, only a thin strip of snow was able to slip through at the middle, leaving the rest of the grimy black asphalt bare. She quickly reached the alley's entrance, peeking cautiously around the corner to make sure her hearing had been correct.

Bailey's shiny Corvette was parked haphazardly in a snow pile beside the curb. A plow had recently come through, but it had done little to help. Already, there was an inch-thick, tightly packed layer of snow covering the road, and the plow probably wouldn't waste its time in this decrepit part of town again.

"You're not good at this, are you?" Aven's voice came from behind the pile of snow, then on top of it. Hayden could see her after a few seconds, staggering down the jagged, icy side facing the sidewalk. She was still wearing the T-shirt-and-jeans combo she'd borrowed from Bailey, now with her own pair of snow boots and...

Is that my coat?! Hayden felt her jaw drop a little, ire clouding her gaze for a moment. That was one of her favorite winter coats, sleek and black, belted and falling to flutter about her knees. On Aven, the coat hit just above her knees, throwing off the entire look Hayden had so carefully aimed for when wearing the coat herself. That almost annoyed her more than the fact that Bailey had so readily given up her clothing without even bothering to ask.

"Not in the snow, no," came Bailey's cool response, jerking Hayden from her thoughts. She found her fingers tightly gripping the corner of the alley, the brick's sharp edge gouging her flesh. When she forced herself to release the corner, Bailey's eyes darted her way. Or, at least, it looked as if her eyes had darted her way. Through the snow, it was hard to tell. Hayden stepped back into the shadows of the alley, just in case. Bailey made her way around the car and over the heap of snow, her back soon to the alley in which Hayden had concealed herself.

"How are we doing this?" Aven asked so softly, so nervously, that Hayden was barely able to catch her words through the softly falling snow. "Do we just go in? Or...or do we need some sort of plan?"

Bailey shrugged, glancing toward the club's entrance. Only then did Hayden realize that Bailey was wearing a coat, one that looked wrong on her. It was leather, even baggier than her normal clothes tended to be, so it couldn't have been hers. But it was familiar...

Dameon gave her his favorite jacket? Once again, anger was darkening the edges of the girl's vision. She loved that jacket, always asked Dameon to let her borrow it, but he'd never done much more than laugh at her request. But he'd lent it to Bailey, the crazy bitch who tended to lose her mind and damage things. Lots of things. Why did she get to wear that jacket?!

She forced her jealousy aside, growling softly to herself as she continued to listen in on their conversation. She needed to know whether they had a plan or not if she was going to show them up...or, at the very least, back them up.

"I say we just go in," Bailey said in her normal nonchalant tone, as if she weren't suggesting that they walk into a death trap. "There isn't really much we could plan, since we don't know exactly who or what is in there at the moment."

Aven nodded slowly, though she frowned, clearly not too fond of the idea. "Do you want me to...try...?"

Again, Bailey shrugged, so casual that it was beginning to bug Hayden. "If you want to. You can stay out here for all I care. No offense, but I don't expect much from you." She smiled suddenly, cold and hard and just a little bit crazy. "Unless you are a Traitor, after all, simply acting like the helpless elf to lead me into a trap."

Aven went wide-eyed, having had no idea that Bailey was even considering such a thing. "I-I'm not," she stammered, taking a step back, as though she expected Bailey to reach out and strike her right then and there. "I would never..."

Bailey turned from her with another shrug, already done with the topic. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?" And with that, she started for the heavy metal door at the club's entrance, painted black with a pair of ivory fangs dripping blood. She disappeared from Hayden's view, and the girl didn't dare peek around the corner much farther.

But a creak resounded through the silent night, obviously the sound of Bailey opening the rusty old door. Light, dim and reddish, spilled across the pure white of the snow; the beat of a fast-paced techno song shattered the calm of the night outside. Aven hesitated, but soon went after Bailey, catching the door just before it slammed shut. She disappeared into the club after Bailey, and Hayden ghosted out of the safety of her alley.

"Should I wait?" she murmured to herself, standing before the entrance. She stared at the door's decal, those ugly, bloody fangs, and sneered. "Well, I guess I have to kick someone's ass for this cliché crap." She tugged the door open and slipped into the club, her entrance hidden by the chaos already occurring within.

There were shouts everywhere, screams of orders and shrieks of pain. Men and women, human and otherwise, were rushing about in a mass of confusion. Many were attempting to fight, but there were others trying to flee. Blood already covered one wall, several corpses slumped against it. Bailey was in the middle of the mess, currently in the process of leaping onto the bar a few feet from the door. Her foot caught a man in the jaw, sending him sprawling across a bar stool just before she landed, perfectly balanced on the other foot. Aven was huddled off to one side of the door, afraid, but drawing no attention to herself.

A second man was coming up behind Bailey, hauling himself onto the bar with two women in his wake. Hayden watched for a moment, pressed back against the door and out of sight for the moment. Did she help Bailey? Or did she just let the woman do her thing? Her wicked aura was already filling the club, heavy, pressing against the scurrying people and pushing against the building's walls as if it wanted to escape, to become its own entity. Judging by the bloodthirsty feel of it, Bailey was fine on her own. Hayden opted to take out the few attempting to escape through the back.

She slipped behind Bailey's crowd, silent even on her ridiculous platforms, and maneuvered around a couple of scuffed, ugly gray tables. She crushed the remnants of a broken cup at one point, but even that seemed silent, hidden beneath the sounds of Bailey's altercations. She followed a pair of what she guessed were human women through a door marked "Employees Only" and found herself in a mass of squawking, chattering, screaming men and women. The majority were humans, though Hayden noticed a pair of horns and a few sets of fangs. The Traitors were probably the only ones willing to face Bailey. Had Hayden made a mistake in leaving her to fend for herself? She recalled that Aven was near the entrance, close enough to help if Bailey needed it, but that barely comforted her. She'd heard Bailey and Dameon's conversation, after all. Aven could have been on the Traitors' side for all they knew.

A metallic bang sounded through the massive back room as the back door was finally forced open, allowing a stream of fleeing humans and Traitors to begin their escape. But they wouldn't make it far. Not if Hayden had anything to say about it. Or, rather, sing.

She started without realizing it as she tucked herself away between a couple of stacks of crates, just to the side of the door she'd entered through. Quietly, she started, a low pitch sliding into a higher pitch, climbing higher and higher. There were no words to her song, only beautiful, flowing syllables, sharp consonants followed by open vowels. A slight vibrato tinged the tone as her voice gradually grew stronger, but the spell didn't change. In mere seconds, the heavy door they'd just kicked open slammed shut, crushing a bulky man in jaws of rusted metal. Only a couple of humans had managed to escape. The rest remained in the back room, covered in blood and gore, screaming their lungs out. They turned as a group, beginning to start for the main entrance to the room, but Hayden stopped them there, too.

Her previous song ending, she began a new one, still hidden between mounds of wooden and plastic crates. This one was different, beginning on a higher note and rapidly descending. In moments, the entire group had ceased to move, to scream, to speak. They weren't even blinking as far as she could tell. She held the final note for a moment, one barely high enough for her vocal range; then, she released it, immediately sagging against the sturdier stack of boxes. She panted for a moment, a hand on her chest to feel her heart's rapid hammering. That spell was a bitch to work on one person, let alone an entire crowd. She was glad she hadn't been working any magic before this whole thing. Bolting from between the crates, she disappeared through the door, leaving the crowd frozen in place for what she hoped would be at least another five minutes.

When she emerged in the main part of the club, right next to the bar, she was only mildly shocked by what she saw. Bailey had gotten down from the bar, had ceased her wild kicking, but her aura of evil had only strengthened. It was heavy now, cloying and even more bloodthirsty than when Hayden had left. The majority of her enemies were sprawled about the establishment, either dead or unconscious, but there were still plenty left.

Bailey spun just in time to block a set of claws with the back of her hand, blood spattering down her legs as they cut into her skin, though she didn't so much as flinch. There was a slight red glow to her dark eyes now, and Hayden doubted the woman felt much of anything. She caught the man's arm with her free hand, jerking him off his feet with little effort. She flung him with such power that when he finally collided with the bloodied bar, Hayden could hear the snap of his spine breaking. Another foolish man was sneaking up behind her when Hayden turned her attention back to the battle, the woman busy with a clawed, fanged, furry female. A wide array of notes and syllables left Hayden in a flurry of sound, almost without thought, but the spell came out just as it would have if uttered more slowly. The man stopped dead in his tracks, his wide eyes darting to the witch before his body burst, sending blood and flesh to rain down upon Bailey and her remaining opponents. Bailey was the next to turn Hayden's way, the severed head of her most recent victim in her hand. The smile she offered, with newly grown fangs curving over her blood-reddened lower lip like those of a saber-toothed tiger, sent a chill through the teenager, though it also comforted her. Bailey was going to win.

Hayden turned from Bailey's shudder-worthy battle, rightfully wondering where Aven had gone. Surely she wasn't off fighting somewhere on her own? Not hiding in Bailey's car? Luckily, before many more scenarios could play out in Hayden's head, she spotted the elf in the doorway nearby, almost right where she'd been left. She was wide-eyed, blood dripping from trembling fingers as she stared at the man at her feet. He was twitching, his throat gaping and spilling yet more blood onto the stained floor. He reached for her, opening his mouth to say one last thing, but only a wet gurgle escaped. His head then fell back to the floor, his eyes already becoming glazed with death.

"Aven?" Hayden asked softly, taking a small, hesitant step closer to the woman. There was a dagger at her feet, small but sharp, covered in blood. Judging from its place directly below her bloody hand, she'd been the one holding it. She had killed the man. "Aven?"

"I...He...No...no choice..." The elf took a step away from the corpse, her back hitting the door with the thud of flesh to metal. Her golden-brown eyes drifted to her hand, raised dripping and shaking before her face. There was guilt in those eyes, guilt and horror. But no regret. "He gave me...no choice."

Hayden stooped to snatch the knife up, her eyes never leaving Aven. The sounds of battle had faded for the moment, but the slam of a door said that Bailey wasn't quite finished yet. She'd headed to the back. "I understand," the witch said, still refusing to look away. Aven clutched her hand to her chest, dropping her gaze to the floor as if in shame. "He came at you. You had to defend yourself. Did you...bring this yourself?"

"J-just in case, yes," Aven whispered, slowly bringing her eyes to Hayden's. She was calming down, her trembling subsiding and the raw emotion in her eyes beginning to die away.

"Good, good. It was smart of you to bring something to protect yourself with," Hayden said in her most reassuring tone. And though it wasn't the most comforting tone in the world, still edged with her natural lack of caring, it seemed to calm the elf a bit. "I wish I would have brought something," she even went so far as to admit, eying the sticky blade in her hand. "I'm about out of energy, so if my paralysis spell wears off before Bailey can take care of the remaining humans and Traitors, we might have a bit of trouble."

"You can keep that," the elf said, watching as Hayden studied the dagger. It was sleek and black handled, small but undoubtedly dangerous, as Aven had proven. "I don't really want to use it anymore, even if..." She trailed off, but Hayden nodded, finishing the sentence in her head. Even if Bailey needs the help.

"All right." She wiped the blade off on her skirt, thankful for the dark color of the fabric. "Will you be all right if I leave you here? I think I should go check on Bailey."

"Why?" a voice said suddenly from behind her. "I'm right here." Predictably, she spun to see Bailey in all her blood-covered, cut-and-bruised, glowing-red-eyed, fang-bearing glory. She looked even more terrifying now, the glow of her eyes more intense and of a much more bloody red, but the wickedness about her was beginning to ebb. She looked like a monster, but she no longer felt like one.

"O-oh," Hayden stammered, doing her best to remain nonchalant as she took a step backward, toward Aven. The elf looked much safer than Bailey at the moment. "Did you...?" She stopped, finding Bailey already nodding her head.

"They're all dead." The casualness of the statement struck both Aven and Hayden, but Bailey barely noticed. She had pulled a strand of auburn hair over a shoulder, running her fingers through it and tugging in an attempt to force the tangles out. Blood was matting it, however, so her efforts were very obviously in vain. "You did good with that spell," she said, her eyes flicking to Hayden in the most seductive, frightening, evil way imaginable. "And the guy in the door? Perfect."

"Thanks," Hayden said, only her shifting back another step giving away her uncomfortableness. "It was all I could think of to do."

"It worked perfectly." Bailey sighed heavily as she shoved her hair back over her shoulder, deeming it a lost cause. Her eyes were on Aven now, that same sexy, scary gaze. "I'm proud of you, too." Her smile returned, broad and fangy, and Aven attempted to meld with the door, her eyes widening once more. "You really are on our side, and you are capable of killing. I find myself pleasantly surprised."

"Should we do anything with the bodies?" Hayden asked, attempting to keep Aven from fainting in terror. Bailey's eyes found her again, and Hayden could almost feel Aven relaxing behind her. "Move them? Clean up around here? Try to...get rid of some evidence or something?"

Bailey chuckled, low and slow. "Nah. If they haven't found us yet, I doubt they'll get anything from here." She took a step toward the door, and Aven nearly jumped to the side to get out of her way. The red-eyed woman laughed again, pushing the door open. A cold breeze slipped past her, a few flurries of snow sneaking in as she stepped out into the night. Hayden hurried after her, holding the door open to allow Aven to follow. But as it slammed loudly shut, the three of them heading for the Corvette, Bailey collapsed. She fell to her front in the thick layer of snow coating the sidewalk, just short of the snow pile she would've had to cross to reach the car. And for the first time, Hayden noticed that the woman was still wearing Dameon's favorite leather coat. Without a scratch on it.