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Chapter 4 ~Casper~

Author: Damien Ace
last update Last Updated: 2024-03-05 01:54:54

SO THERE THEY ARE—THE GIRLS, just standing there like a couple of mannequins, jaws practically kissing the ground. Their eyes bulge out like they've just wandered into fairytale castle or something.

I come thundering down the stairs, making a ruckus. The girls finally snap out of their trance, and their gaze zeroes in on me—all wide-eyed and unblinking.

I'm a walking disaster—heart drumming away in my chest, sweat rolling down my face, and my hair? Yeah, let's just say it's doing this wild, untamed bird's nest thing. "I, uh, thank thee," I choke out, fighting the urge to sound like a total lunatic.

I'm bursting with gratitude on the inside, but I manage to keep myself from bouncing off the walls or squeezing the life out of them. Instead, I fling my arms around their shoulders, reeling them in for a good old-fashioned bear hug.

So the girls are awkwardly patting my sweaty back, sneaking glances at each other with raised brows—it's safe to say they aren't exactly accustomed to getting random bear hugs from some strange, sweaty boy they've never met.

I let them loose, a sheepish grin plastered across my face, and that's when one of the girls finally pipes up. Her gaze is bouncing around the room, soaking up every fancy detail, before she finally bursts out with, "Dude, this place is nuts!" There's a hint of awe in her voice, mixed with a side of uncertainty—like she's not sure if she's stumbled into a fancy mansion or some kind of funky museum.

"Cheers," I chuckle. “This here is our ancestral abode, though my parents are presently away, attending to matters of great import. Do make yourselves comfortable – I shall return in a trice.” I give them a mock bow, gesturing for them to make themselves at home before spinning on my heel and making a beeline for the kitchen.

The moment I step through the doorway, my vampiric-senses start tingling—something's definitely off.

And then, I see it: my once-cozy kitchen has been transformed into some kind of high-tech, super-futuristic laboratory. Sleek appliances are buzzing and whirring, casting spooky blue lights that make me feel like I've accidentally wandered onto the set of a sci-fi play.. "By George!" I mutter, my voice trailing off as I try to make sense of the scene.

Then, a low buzzing snaps me out of my trance, and my eyes land on a hulking metal machine in the corner. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I inch closer, eyeing it warily. “What in the name of Queen Bess is that thing?” I whisper, reaching out to touch its cool, smooth surface.

My hand hovers over the door handle, hesitating for just a moment before I finally gather the courage to open it. And what I find inside is a whole other world. It's like a portal to some kind of arctic produce paradise.

“Well, blow me down!” I gasp, my eyes darting around the chilly interior, trying to take in all the colors, shapes, and textures. “I've never seen anythin' like it!” There are fruits and veggies in here that look like they belong on another planet, and I'm pretty sure I've never seen half of them in my life. Where did they come from?

I pick up a tiny orange orb—some sort of funky fruit hybrid, maybe?—and give it a once-over. “What an odd little blighter,” I mutter, bouncing it in the palm of my hand. “I wonder if it tastes as peculiar as it looks.”

Next up: a selection of mysterious bottles filled with liquids in every color of the rainbow. “Fanta? Coke? I am quite unfamiliar with such exotic beverages!” I scratch my head, my face scrunching up in confusion. Sure, I've seen people out my window chugging these before, but I'm a total newbie when it comes to these drinks.

With a shrug, I load up a tray with all sorts of frosty goodies and head back to the sitting room.

But something else catches my eye. The living room's had a serious glow-up too.

There, mounted on the wall like a work of art from some futuristic museum, is a massive rectangle of darkness. And just like that, it flickers to life, filled with moving pictures. "Oh blow me down," I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper.

The house, once a gloomy old building straight out of the Renaissance, has transformed into a sparkling palace of luxury. The inside is decked out with polished marble floors, paintings that look like they belong in a fancy art gallery, and glittery decor that's so shiny it's almost blinding.

I set the tray down on the glass table with a soft clink, and wave my hand toward the spread. “Prithee, feel free to indulge in the offerings before you!” I say with a wink,.

One girl in particular catches my eye—the one who seemed a bit iffy about saving me from the mansion. I mosey on over to her, holding out a bottle of Fanta like it's some kind of bribe “Verily, I thought thou mightst be desirous of a taste of this exotic Fanta,” I say with a knowing smile. “It is thy most favoured of all beverages, is it not?”

She blinks at me, her brow furrowed in confusion. "My favorite?" she echoes, tilting her head like a puzzled puppy.

I stifle a chuckle as her face cycles through a range of emotions—surprise, confusion, amusement. “Indeed, and I have procured thee yet another delightful indulgence — a confectionery upon a stick!” I say, producing a small confectionery with a flourish.

Her eyes widen in recognition, and she bursts out laughing. "Oh! You mean a lollipop!" she exclaims, giggling like it's the funniest thing she's heard all day.

“Verily so, indeed!” I laugh along with her, reveling in the moment of shared amusement.

"But how did you know I'm a sucker for lollipops and Fanta?" she asks, her voice laced with fascination.

My fingers make a beeline for my hair, a nervous habit that always kick in when I'm at a loss for words. “From mine window each morn, I've espied thee,” I begin, trying to be as upfront as possible without veering into creepy stalker territory. “Upon thy two wheeled contraption, with a lollipop 'twixt thy lips, 'twas impossible not to take notice of thee as thou didst ride by each morn.”

Her gaze sharpens, eyes locking onto mine with laser-like focus. "You've been spying on me?" she asks, her tone a blend of intrigue and caution.

A rush of heat floods my face, and I can feel my cheeks turning a lovely shade of tomato red. “Fear not, no offence was taken. Verily, thy routine is most consistent, and 'twas unavoidable that it should capture mine notice.” I say hastily, holding up my hands in a show of innocence.

To my relief, her expression softens, and she lets out another laugh—though this one is tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I guess I'm a creature of habit," she admits, offering a sheepish grin as she grabs a Fanta and pops the cap.

As she takes a sip, I turn my attention to her blonde friend, who's been watching us with a sly smile playing on her lips. She's toying with a strand of her hair, and I can't help but wonder what's going on in that head of hers.

“Perchance thou dost desire a goblet of Fanta, or mayhap one of these queer and exotic fruits?” I ask, gesturing toward the array of snacks. I give her a friendly grin, hoping to make her feel at ease. “Or, if 'tis more to thy liking, I could prepare a different dish or beverage?”

With a soft, enigmatic smile, she shakes her head. "No, thank you," she replies, her voice as gentle as a summer breeze. "Fanta's just fine."

I breathe a silent sigh of relief, extending my hand in greeting. “Mine name is Snow-white Van Hellsing, though thou may call me Casper. Verily, 'Snow-white' is but a sobriquet, not mine given name.” I say, offering a friendly grin.

The girls share a knowing look, their lips curling up in a secretive smile. Fanta Girl leans back in her chair, eyeing me up and down. "You know, 'Snow-white' kinda fits you, with your pale skin and platinum hair," she says, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and admiration. "You've got this whole unique way of talking that makes you stand out. I can't help but wonder where you're from, 'cause we don't hear people chatting like that around here."

Her words send a ripple of warmth through me, a delightful blend of flattery and embarrassment that leaves me momentarily speechless.

"I'm Winter," the girl who saved me from my mansion-jail jumps in.

"And I'm Scarlett," adds the Fanta-loving, lollipop-munching girl.

As we chat and laugh over our drinks, it's like we've known each other for years instead of just a few crazy hours. The vibe is so chill and easy, it feels like we're wrapped up in a cozy blanket of friendship.

Just as I'm getting comfy, Winter hits me with a question: "So, what's the deal with you being trapped in this mansion? And why didn't you just phone someone for help?"

My heart does a frantic jig as I scramble for an answer that won't totally expose my ancient vampire secret. A "phone," she says? What the heck is that? Clearly, I've got to shield these girls from the truth about my situation.

Time to bust out the old vampiric charm. “Prithee, fret not, 'tis of no great import.” I say, my voice as smooth as silk, “Verily, I implore thee, trouble not thyself with the matter. 'Tis best that thou remaineth ignorant of such concerns. Suffice it to say, thou hast bestowed upon me a great boon in liberating me from this manor, and for that I am most appreciative.”

The girls gawk at me like I've grown a second head, and for a second, I worry that my vampire mind-tricks might not have worked. But then Scarlett cracks up laughing, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know what, he's got a point," she says, giving Winter a playful nudge. "It's all in the past now."

Winter still looks a bit confused, but she shrugs it off. "Sorry for being nosy," she says, blushing a little.

I flash her my most reassuring grin, hoping to put her at ease. “In truth, I beseech thee, cast thine worries aside. All is well now, and there is no cause for distress.” I assure her.

As the tension fades away like a bad dream, I let out a mental sigh of relief, glad that my mind manipulation had saved me from exposing my ancient secret again.

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it's getting even more interesting at this point
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