Last Choice, No Voice, Regular Kids.

Emmalee's P.O.V

“What is it with people round here being too afraid to go out at night?” I mused, looking around the deserted street. “I mean, it’s nine o’clock in America, and we’re the only ones around.”

Emily didn’t respond to my comment, just continued walking quickly, yet quietly down the footpath, with me struggling behind her to keep up with her fast pace, my Doc Martens slapping loudly against the wet ground.

A week ago I would have been surprised to see a drop of rain in America during the summer months, but Scranton wasn’t known for having fantastic weather. However, the weather here was miles better than it was back home in Belfast. At least here I actually got to see the sun a bit, rather than facing thick, grey clouds and rain most days. I considered it lucky if I went four days without seeing the rain.

“Emily, can you slow down please?” I asked, hitching the strap of my bass guitar case higher on my shoulder. “Basses get really fucking heavy after a while.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, running a hand through her long, blue hair. “I’m just anxious to get home.”

“Why?” I asked, catching up to her.

“Have you not been listening to the news?” she questioned, and I shook my head. “And you’re a Journalism student?” she teased, before continuing on quietly. “There’s been strange murders going on for the past two months here in Scranton. Seven deaths, and one man has gone missing.”

I frowned, knowing what she was going to say next. “They all happened at night, right?”

Emily bit her lip and nodded. “So now there's a curfew for everybody to be inside before the sun has set, and we’re not allowed out until it’s risen. It’s just a way to try and lessen the chances of someone else being…”

"Next?" I offered, and she nodded.

As if on queue, the both of us heard a scuffle behind us and froze. Emily dug a hand into her backpack, removing an ancient looking stake.

“A fucking stake?” I hissed. “Emily, what the fuck? Whoever is behind us probably has a gun, and you’re carrying a fucking stake? What do you think is out here, vampires?”

Emily sent me a sheepish look, and I inwardly groaned. “I swear to God, this obsession with the supernatural is so fucking mad!”

Another scuffle shut me up, and the two of us slowly turned around. Against my own will, my heart was pounding hard and fast against my ribcage, and my palms were sweating heavily.

Behind us there was nothing out of the ordinary. No one standing there wielding a chainsaw dripping with fresh blood from their last victim, or a decaying zombie licking its lips as it begged for our brains. Behind us was just a dark, damp, deserted street with not another person within our eyesight.

I laughed out in the silence, rolling my eyes. “I swear I was on the brink of pissing myself,” I giggled, and Emily smiled, shaking her head.

“You’re disgusting, Lee. Come on, let's go home before something really does appear behind us."

I sighed, opening my mouth to say something as we continued down the street. I really didn't want to have this conversation now, but it seemed more appropriate than ever. "Em, what is it with this whole vampire thing?"

"What do you mean?" she mumbled, shoving the wooden stake back into her backpack.

"I mean... I understand the appeal of them and all, but, you really take it to the next level." I paused, trying to find a way to word it without feeling like I had just kicked a puppy. "Haven't you... grown out of it yet?"

Surprisingly, Emily sent me a small smile, the light radiating from the streetlights making her hair look seven shades brighter. She has been dying her hair blue, with black tips for the past four years, and with her aesthetics, to me, she was exactly what I would imagine a faerie to look like: small, slim, beautiful and dainty, yet striking and bold.

"I know what you're trying to say, Lee," she spoke as we rounded a corner, "and I completely understand. But... you're a sceptic and opinionated, and sometimes quite closed minded."

Feeling an acutely offended, I opened my mouth to retaliate, but Emily continued. "I don't mean that in a rude way. You're open minded about most things, just not the supernatural... Remember when your grandma died, and you felt as if you were being watched every night?"

I shuddered at the memory, reluctantly nodding. "And remember how I told you to simply say 'Hello granny', and once you did the feeling stopped? You still refuse to believe that that was her spirit watching over you, don't you?"

"Ghosts aren't real," I snapped, rolling my eyes. I didn't like talking about my granny with anyone, and Emily knew that all too well.

Emily linked her hand with mine as an apology. She knew she had struck a nerve. "All I'm saying is, some people are open to the paranormal, and other's aren't. And anyway, even if it is just a weird obsession, I'm not doing any harm, right?"

I smiled, agreeing with her. "It's like me and my gore movies," I grinned, causing her to chuckle.

"You're gonna think I'm crazy," Emily mumbled, turning serious once again. "But, these murders... my dad performed an autopsy on one of the bodies, 'cause he's a pathologist, and..."

Emily broke off, hugging herself tightly as a sharp breeze swept over us. "Dad said that it looked like the body had been bitten..." she continued, locking eyes with me, "a perfectly angled bite right on a jugular vein."

"That's on the neck, right?" I questioned, watching as she nodded. "Well," I shrugged, "looks like our serial killer has a fetish for necks."

"Emmalee," Em whined, trying to scold me, but couldn't stop the light laugh that escaped from her lips. "Does that not kind of make you wonder that there might be... things out there?"

"What kind of things?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Think about it this way," she began, using grand hand gestures along the way. "The legend is that vampires are from Transylvania, right? Well, we're in Pennsylvania, so, what if-"

"We're dealing with a bunch of dyslexic vampires?"

"Oh my God," she roared, her laughter ringing loud among the silence.

"I am so going to hell," I smirked, laughing as I watched the tears stream down my best friend's cheeks.

"Oh, I love you sometimes," she giggled, wiping at her eyes. "But, yeah, you're kinda on the right track, if you take out the dyslexic part. I am talking about the creatures of the night.” She spoke the last words in a hushed voice, seeming nervous incase we were overheard.

I glanced at my friend and smirked, bumping into her side. “What, do you think Rocky Horror’s just going to pop out from an alleyway and sing to us?” I laughed, raising my voice and singing, “I’m just a sweet transvestite, from Pennsylvania!”

Emily laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant, Lee!”

“I know, but still. Vampire’s aren’t real,” I stated confidently, and Emily scrunched her nose up in contemplation. I sighed, looking down the street and seeing a young man leaning against the side of a taxi rank. "So much for a curfew..."

Emily followed my line of sight, and immediately stiffened. "Don't tell me you're scared?" I asked her, looking at her in disbelief when she nodded. "Oh, for Jesus' sake, Emily, it's just a man. You have seen one before, right?"

"Shut up you douche," she scowled. "It's just weird seeing someone else out after curfew."

I shrugged. "What's the big fuss? Yeah, laws and curfews are made, but with every law, there are lawbreakers, and it's going to be the case with curfews. I mean, look at us, we've broken it."

Emily sighed, knowing I'd won the argument, but still kept an apprehensive eye on the man. Stealing another glance at her, I took off and marched up to the stranger, tapping his shoulder lightly.

“Excuse me,” I began, and the man looked down at me, the moonlight casting eerie shadows against his porcelain skin, his ink coloured hair adding to the effect, “are you here to kill us, or simply waiting for a taxi?”

The porcelain man smiled lightly. “I’m simply waiting for a taxi after my meal.”

I sent a triumphant look to Emily, who was waiting nervously a few feet behind me. “Great,” I smiled at the man. “What did you have?”

I could hear Emily scoff behind me at my question, and I smirked. Like every good best friend, I was going to rip the piss out of her apprehension of the innocent stranger. That's what friend's are for, right?

“Oh…” the man began, chuckling lowly as he pushed himself upright. “I haven’t had it yet.”