Chap. 9 - What About Tomorrow
Published Dec 4, 2011

Written By



Page 1 / 104

Here by dubbed: "Carter's UNlucky Streak!"
Well I hope reading this chapter will be as interesting and entertaining as writing it was! Anyway, Carter arrives 'home' and soon finds himself not the only vampire on a mission to attain Evelyn's, at the very least, trust.
And at the very least: I hope you enjoy.

Here by dubbed: "Carter's UNlucky Streak!"
Well I hope reading this chapter will be as interesting and entertaining as writing it was! Anyway, Carter arrives 'home' and soon finds himself not the only vampire on a mission to attain Evelyn's, at the very least, trust.
And at the very least: I hope you enjoy.
Self-anointed Doctor Carter had forgotten about his house or, more so, the remains of it. He sulked for a bit. But he was soon interrupted by the police.
“Sir,” came a voice, “a neighbor reported you for loitering. Sir?”
Carter turned.
There was the sound of the cruiser door being shut.
“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave the premises.”
Carter hardly moved.
“Carter?” Came another voice entirely; a voice he recognized, a voice that was a half-forgotten memory. “Is that you?” She asked. The clicking of her heels echoed down the semi-dark hallway. Sending out a warning to the guards, who stopped their yawning at her approach. And they saluted. They quickly flung the doors wide for her, and just as quickly shut them. And her husband looked up, so did the group of counsels.
“Sweetheart, how nice of you to join us.” His voice was verging on sarcasm, but only verging.
“I had some business to take care of.” She brushed an invisible fleck of dust off her shoulder.
Her husband carried on: “Men—immortals, I’ve gathered you here to discuss a possible threat—” “Is this the threat that you assured us had already been taken care of.” One said.
“You’re mistaken.” He replied simply.
Then his wife cut in: “Over the last few months I’ve been tracking a threat and I have, in fact, neutralized it.” She took a breath before continuing, “But a new has arisen from the one that fell.” “Seems you’ve only made our problems worse.” Another counsel didn’t fail to voice his opinion. “Hold your tongue.” The owner of the voice was calm, “Or I will not hesitate to have you and it removed,” The implied threat was to all who attended. “But no worries,” She continued as though she never stopped, “I only call it a threat, men.” She took a supercilious look around that stopped just short of her husband, “And only because I don’t easily disregard a descendant of our…former queen.” As if there was some cue: murmurs too loud for the word made their way to the table to stake their claim.
“At ease! Immortals, at ease. We have already sent someone to keep an eye on this possible threat.”
“Who?” All asked, worry lining both their face and voices.
“Zeth.” Anita replied tiredly.

“Our son.” Her husband’s response a second behind.
“Cecelia?” Carter’s brow creased, “What are you doing here?”
She lifted up and dropped her hat, “Police business.”
“What police business?”
“We have to remove a stranger person of this premises.” The other barged in.
“Strange person.” Carter repeated.
A terse pause.
“You mean me don’t you?”

“But I own this lot.”
“Either way, we should take you in—discuss what happened with your disappearance.” Cecelia said softly.
“My-my disappearance—Oh. My disappearance.”
The officers gestured to the cruiser.
“You’re worried.” He said.
Anita gave him a sharp look, then remembered that to him, she was an open book.
“I can tell.” He said needlessly.
“Dear, my dear Solan…aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“But, I trust him—”
“And do you think I do not. He’s my child, I cherish him more than a thousand nights, a million eclipses.”
“As do I. But it’s time for him to prove himself—to make something of himself. And we both need to trust him to do just that.”
“But to do THIS. I don’t like it. I wouldn’t trust any child of HERS. Especially not with my son.”
His smile was more of a smirk, “I’m sure Zeth will be able to keep himself.”
“Aye, but this girl reeks of trouble—and not the good kind.”
“Zeth will be just fine.” He stayed true to his motif.
“Only fine?”
“Come—” Though neither moved “—we have much to plan and discuss. How was your visit with your detainee—your ‘business?’”
“Troublesome, as always—it’s in the blood, I’m sure.”
“Then let’s hope for Zeth’s sake that he hasn’t gained your all-consuming thirst for what you set your sights on.” “Without them, there would be no Zeth,” Anita murmured in his ear. Demetrius Carter does not have ‘mind-control’ powers. He figured out as much while he was being drilled with questions, and despite how much he willed it, they did not stop for quite some time:
“Were you aware that your house was bombed?” Or, “You’ve been missing for a month—Brooklyn Heights, right? There were multiple credit card purchases, and you rented out a lab down at the Science Facility. Our questions is: Why’d you skip town as soon as your house went…BOOM?”
Here: “I’m not the man you’re looking for.” Suffice to say, his Jedi mind-trick attempt failed.
Though he found himself not totally helpless…
He’d first noticed it when he came into town; sitting in the back of a cab an annoying and persistent thump permeated the car, and thrummed against his toes. Originally he thought it was the driver’s feet, pounding to the memory of a song. But that explanation didn’t quite fit: the beat grew louder as they approached the hub of the town; and soon it was multiple beats, out of sync and pounding on his skull. He tried to ignore it. That didn’t work. So doing what he always does when faced with chaos and a need to fix it: he concentrated on one thing, one thumping beat.
Then he wondered why he hadn’t realized it before—they were heartbeats, every single one of them. They played out, in their own time, the same rhythm of the heart monitor that he stared at for weeks. For a second he was filled with pure amazement, then: “I wonder if this can help me find HER.”
“Huh?” Came from the driver’s seat.
“Nothin’—just nothing.”
“Great! Not you again. Leave me alone, it’s only been a few hours at most.”
“Eighteen, actually.”
“What do you want, leave me be.”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll tell you nothing—”

She clicked her tongue, “Lucky I’m good at changing minds,” she smiled. It had taken him weeks, to track his sister down. And he found it very ironic that his search had led him back to his hometown. He had no idea what she looked like, he only had a name. And a suspicion that he wasn’t the only one after this girl. But now he was asleep. Not soundly, he was finally forced into sleep despite his uncomfortable surroundings: it was a run-down motel, and he could barely afford it—after his credit card(s) was declined. Thankfully, he was given an excuse to wake up: the sound of a revving motorcycle cut through the night. And with it a dangerously familiar heartbeat, thudded to him; one he was loath to see the owner off, but anything was better than this. He shoved the thin sheets off him and pulled on a sweater and took his chances. “You…again.” Though he’d already knew who it was. “I just want you to know—”
“Get off the bike.” Truth be told, it was making him nervous—throwing off the consistent beat of the heart bearing species around him.
He swung around, but didn’t leave his perch. “You and I need to have a conversation.”
“…Like the one we’re having right now?”
“Because you’re so newly turned, and because you don’t know who I am, lucky for you, I’ll let Halloween and that last bit slide, BUT I want you to know who I am, because next time—” “Bad will stuff happen, I get it—I got it—I’m good.” He chuckled slowly, but did not smile: “Right. But more importantly I’m the fiftieth generation of a pureblood vampire, and I’m on a mission. Don’t get in my way again. If you are in any way responsible for me not being able to accomplish my task they’ll be higher ups that’ll want your blood. And that’s putting it lightly.” He rode off. Leaving Carter with one question to ask the night. “Isn’t that cannibalism?” “Where’s Evelyn?” Her voice was unfamiliar but the name on the other hand, “She said she’d come, SHE PROMISED.” Carter gave a minute to wonder why teenagers were hanging out in a pub.
“She’s out with that new guy—again.” He sounded annoyed, worried and mad. And Carter spared a second to wonder how close this young man was to his Evelyn; because Carter rationalized there was a chance that there is more than one Evelyn in Twinbrook.
“Looks like you might need another guitar player…again.” The boy mumbled.
“She’ll come back, I’m sure.”
“I hope so.”
—Carter’s new friend brought him back to the game: “If you want, you can always forfeit.”
A hollow laugh echoed out of him, “Scared you’re gonna lose, huh?”
“Scared you can’t handle my defense?” He—Alan Michael—returned.
Carter held his breath, and hoped his dexterity was up to par. Luckily, the ball slide past Alan’s goalie and a satisfying KLUNK sounded as Carter scored. “And THAT is how you play foosball…Alan.” “You and me both know that was a lucky shot.”
“Lucky’s my middle name.” Carter took another shot—missed.
“Lucky for sure.”
Alan’s eyes found a clock, “Sorry, man, I have to be somewhere soon…”
“What! Come on give me something better than that.”
“Well, if you must know, I’m going on a date—sixth date, matter of fact.”
“Ask yourself, Alan Michael: which is more important—Foosball, or date? Foosball, or date?”
Carter looked up—he waved. “Mom. I told you: everything is under control.”
“But are you alright?”
“Of course I’m alright.”
“Have you—”
“Yes, I’ve made contact with Evelyn Miller. I’m going to meet her actually…”
“When, where?”
“Mom, calm down; I’m meeting her again, tomorrow night, at the local bistro—”
“Are you taking her on a DATE!?” She sounded incredulous.
Silence on the other end.
“Answer me!”
“Mom, calm down.” He repeated.
“Once you start taking this opportunity seriously.”
This time the silence was simmering.
Then an endless beep: “He hung up on me!” Carter figured it was about time for him to attempt to get his job back. It was then, suddenly, as Carter watched doctors traipse the hospital’s hallways; it was then that Carter realized life had indeed gone on without him. It wasn’t a very fun or interesting conversation. “So you weren’t kidnapped?” Said his boss. And, “I was wondering if I can have my job back, maybe, please?” Truth be told his job was his life—he was desperate to get back to it. Eventually: “We’ve already hired someone to take your place—a MONTH, Carter; you’ve been gone more than a month. If I’d known you were coming back… but I didn’t and I am not going to fire a good doctor, because you didn’t feel like going through the ‘inconvenience’ of telling you’re BOSS that you’re might not be able to make it into work…for a MONTH!” “Bu-bu-but…” He started and finished lamely.

“You can let yourself out.” He did and led himself back to his crappy motel. Anybody else wouldn’t have been able to tell. Demetrius Carter, however, took one-step and panic flooded through him: someone had been in his room, and it wasn’t the maid—he doubted this establishment could even afford maids.
He checked under the mattress, and he sucked in a desperate breath. IT wasn’t there. He cursed himself, he cursed his luck, and he cursed this good-for-nothing day. He only hoped the stone was not lost to him forever—
Then, a face popped into his head, and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it sooner. By this time logic had officially left him and he spent the night awake, letting his suspicions fester.
He woke up early the next day and searched.
And it was lucky what he found:
A rowdy group of boys, surrounding a not so rowdy looking one. A memory sparked through him as he recognized the scene: it was a sinkhole—THE sinkhole; it had been there for the last couple years and, sadly, was the most interesting thing to happen to Twinbrook in those years and the years that came before. But the town council was too busy (more like lazy) to find the time or money to fill in this possible safety hazard, though really they just wanted to wait out the publicity of the sinkhole so they didn’t have to use precious tax money for such “inconsequential” things. Their plan failed however when the hole started to spread making a section of the fence collapse, redrawing the public’s attention, so they put up a replacement (however cheap). After awhile though citizens began to forget about it—the hole was nowhere near any highly populated area of Twinbrook, but of course almost everywhere in Twinbrook was “nowhere near any highly populated area” and the politicians used this as an excuse to let the project sit; maybe if the broken pipes had actually been in use, or maybe if people had remembered to go to that protest on Sunday; but no, and the sinkhole and it’s lingering problems were forgotten… “Why don’t you just leave us alone!” One kid yelled, though the pack was the one blocking the boy from making a quick exit.
“You and you’re father are going to rot in hell.” Came a bellow. Jeers followed in agreement.
This time there was a response: “Me and my father are two different people; I have nothing to do with him and he has nothing to do with—” “Tell your daddy I said hi!” And he reached to pick up a good-sized brick and held it for a moment longer. “I will never forgive your father for what he did to my family!” He aimed. “Exactly—my FATHER. Not ME!” He pleaded in a last ditch effort.
The boy smirked and, and most likely because of the desperation in the boy’s voice, sent the projectile flying.
THAT’S when Carter stepped in, literally, and the brick thumped harmlessly against his chest—though it did sting. Without a second’s pause: “Why don’t we all just…disperse, respectively?”
The majority blinked at Carter’s sudden appearance.
“Mind your own business!” “And that’s what I’m doing—I’ve made this my business.” Carter said.
“You’re outnumbered three to one!” A kid pointed out.
“Eh, good point.” Carter mumbled, then—
—“Run! I said RUN, kid!”
They ran.
After a good while, they stopped. And soon the boy’s thundering heartbeat slowed, he said, still panting: “Thanks.”
“No pro—”
“Don’t you know who I am?”
“Nah, but anyway, you should go on home and stay there. You do know where ‘home’ is, don’t you? What were you even doing?”
The boy gestured vaguely. And, “Looking for a friend.”
“Huh, well—you should probably hurry.” And Carter started away.
“Wait! Uh—”
“Yeah?” Carter stopped.
“I said thanks already, right?”
“Well, then, I-uh-I guess I’ll see you around then.”
Carter smirked wickedly, “Not if they catch you first.” So far, his little hunt had been pointless. And despite his earlier bravery, he felt like a Freezer Bunny Popsicle dropped and left to melt on the concrete combined with a massive brain-freeze—which is not a good feeling at all. And then— First the anger sparked back up again, then died down; then he felt that his was awfully convenient—two birds with one stone—because he knew exactly who the girl sitting next to him was: Evelyn Miller, his little sister.
They couple was just leaving. And foolhardily took the back way.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble.” Carter started off saying. “Well, you found it.” He had already turned.
Evelyn took a step back, opened her mouth, and then shut it firmly.
“What are you even doing here?” He snapped.
Carter didn’t have an answer he’d been following where his emotions led him all day, and now he was here.
A snap of laughter broke from him, “Right. Come on Ev.”
“It’s Lyn.” She stated. “Do I know you?” She asked Carter.
He sputtered—“No. Of course not.”
She glanced at her “date,” and raised an eyebrow.
Words came to Carter: “Where’s the stone?”
“What!” He stopped in his tracks.
“You got someone to take it didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he looked like he did.
“Well, I want to know what you’re talking about.” Evelyn crossed her arms.
He wore a careful expression. “You broke into my room, stole the stone and—”
“Not me.” He said simply.
“You—” Carter stopped himself: the boy’s heart rate was picking up like he was going to do something rash, but on the outside he looked dead calm.
Evelyn’s analyzing gaze turned from Carter to her date; her eyes squinted like she saw the things churning inside of him. Then something seemed to break inside of her and she ran. He barked something to her disappearing form, then— It was a quick skirmish. Carter didn’t even know what happened. “You’re back.”
“Yes—come with me; I need your help.”
“You-YOU need MY help?”
“With WHAT?” He tried to hide his worried appearance.
“You’ll see soon enough.”
She was quiet the rest of the journey remembering what she’d taken from a certain mailbox.
And the plot thickens ah-still.
Sorry for the delay (again), but I hope it was, at least kind of, worth the wait.
And, don't forget: Hope You Enjoyed.

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5 Comment(s) so far

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#1Dec 4, 2011

awesome writing!

#2JadeiestoneDec 4, 2011


#3BellaJuneauVIPDec 5, 2011

awesome!!! thanks for sharing your story \:rah\:

#4ruby17Dec 5, 2011


#5fabrizioammolloDec 7, 2011

So final the two branch of these story came together. So Margaret isn't Evelyn's biological mother or she was a vampire's queen? \:\)

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