The way that we punished people in The Cult of the Crypt of the Sacred Blood was an interesting way.
Alexander had realized, long ago, that nothing that he could come up with was as evil and twisted as the things that humans would do.
So, simply, we'd drop a rule breaker in the middle of a tiny town.
And after a while, people would go missing, not a lot, but a few.
And then someone would notice. Nothing goes unnoticed in a little town. And then we'd sit there and watch as they came up with ways to kill vampires.
It was a little bit fun, an a twisted sort of way.
A little bit fun. All in good fun, I thought.
Until it happened to me.
I sat in the airport bathroom, trying to find a place where I would be inconspicuous. It wasn't easy.
All in all, the choice of hiding in a room filled with mirrors wasn't a good one.
I'd managed to find a little corner where, if I propped my brand new secondhand suitcase just so, it wasn't obvious that there was only one of me.
We don't get the comfort of knowing that there'll always be one person on your side, that one person who you see when you look in the mirror.
We don't get that.
In fact, to be honest, I have no idea what my face looks like. I don't show up on film either.
Then again, given how much things have changed since the last time I was here, maybe they've gotten around that too.
When did airports start with all of the security? There goes my hope of a cover story. No, "Oh, yes, I'm this person, I just got here, no, I'm totally not undead."
And that was my plan.
After all, people in small towns are suspicious.
People in small towns pay more attention to each other than they should.
People in small towns catch on to things pretty fast.
If I could have picked the city that I was going to attempt to blend into, it would have probably been San Francisco. It's a nice place, and anything goes. Nude bicycle parade that stops cars for three hours? Totally okay.
Hell, I could probably walk down the street sparkling like I had a million diamonds embedded into my skin and no one would care. I could probably make some good money off of that, actually, if I acted like it was a show.
Then again, that would be stupid. We don't sparkle, no matter what Noah in Confessions of a High School Vampiredoes. And we don't turn into butterflies.
I hate to admit that I know those books by heart. They're like literary cocaine. And they're complete crap.
But I could steal them from the airport bookstore and not get noticed. If you're going to steal a book, steal a bestseller. It's easier to get caught if you steal something interesting that no one reads.
And I've been stuck in the airport for a while. Organizing this took me quite a while.
Well, a week and a half.
Plus two days to come up with the plan.
But it still was rather irritating.
I mean, I'd rather live in San Francisco. I don't want to live here. If I could choose the last place in the world that I'd like to live, it would be Roseland County. Sunny, underpopulated, hell.
And of course, that's why I'm here.
Alexander, I hate you. Please, do me a favor, and go jump off a cliff.
That's actually not enough. Jump off a cliff and then get hit by a bus.
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