Chapter 4: A Small Altercation
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Valen saw his entire life flash before his eyes to the soundtrack of roaring engines and many, many angry honks before his hellish motorcycle ride came to a sudden stop.

“We’re here!” said Louise, sounding way too cheerful for someone who's just broken gods know how many traffic laws.

Valen relaxed his grip, letting go of Louise’s waist and whatever it was inside her hoodie pocket. He stumbled off the motorcycle and pushed his hand against a nearby brick wall to support his wobbling feet.

“I think I just communed with my ancestors.”

Louise parked her motorcycle, an amused grin plastered across her face. “What’d they say?”

“To take the train back home tonight.”

Valen gathered himself and looked up at where she brought him.

The block of flats in front of him looked equal parts foreboding and familiar. To anyone outside the Nocturnal District, it looked like a rundown relic with white paint peeling off cracked red bricks that should’ve been demolished centuries ago.

But to someone who grew up inside the dark dome, it was just another place where people lived because they couldn’t afford anything else, and one that Valen remembered fondly despite its numerous safety code violations.

“It ain’t much, but it’s home,” said Louise. “You still remember my flat number?”

“234, yeah? It’s an easy enough number to remember.” He decided to keep the subject of the thing in Louise’s pocket for when they reached her flat. Good ears were far too common in the Nocturnal District.

They entered the building into a musty lobby where old dirty couches and chipped coffee tables were strewn about with little rhyme or reason on the mould-ridden yellow carpet. A receptionist desk sat beside a flight of stairs and a couple of broken lifts, manned by a single dozy vampire in a red t-shirt.

Vampires as a whole tended to be a pretty bunch. According to legend, the goddess Dianne made it a point to resurrect the first vampires as the most attractive version of themselves, erasing little imperfections like scars and imbalanced faces in the futile hopes that their physical beauty would make the other races less hostile towards them for defying the cycle of life and death.

The receptionist might’ve been a handsome vampire once too, but an unkind life had taken its toll on him.

He had a gaunt frame that made his oversized shirt hang on his shoulders like an unstuffed scarecrow, his complexion was a sickly shade of greyish blue spotted with red dots around the face and arms, and his long brown hair was so matted that Valen wouldn’t be surprised if a bird had made it nest somewhere there. He doubted the bloke would’ve noticed either.

“Is that guy alright?” asked Valen.

What he’d initially thought was an extended brainfart quickly turned out to be a full on drug induced high upon closer inspection.

The receptionist rested his arm on the desk with a leather belt fastened tightly around it. Reddish drool dribbled from the corner of his lips which were curled slightly up in a grin that showed glimpses of his extended fangs. His eyes were almost completely black, most of it having rolled into the back of his head, and every now and then his body would twitch without any changes to his face.

A cursory glance at the desk contents revealed an empty needle next to a very burnt spoon and a plastic ziplock bag containing red crystalline shards Valen could only assume was some strange strain of cherry flavoured meth.

For just a moment, the receptionist seemed to break from his stupor to look at the passing resident and her guest. His eyes rolled back to their proper place, revealing cloudy white irises and pupils in addition to a vampire’s typical black sclera. Valen would’ve thought the man suffered from cataracts if vampires weren’t immune to such illnesses.

The receptionist’s blank gaze followed Valen and Louise as they walked past him all the way to he stairs.

“Don’t mind old Nigel over there,” said Louise with a dismissive wave. “He does this every other night. Really should be more careful with his bloodglass if you ask me.”

“Bloodglass?”

“Oh, right. You weren’t here when it came around.” Louise started trudging up the tall stairs with Valen at her side. “It’s a kind of drug. Came out of nowhere about a year ago and became the most popular dope on the streets among vampires.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“For one, it’s cheap.” Louise struggled to keep pace on her short legs despite Valen already slowing down for her. “Much cheaper than normal heroin for the similar high it gives. Plus, vampires can use it as a blood substitute.”

“Wait, what?!” Valen stopped in his tracks.

“Yeah, bloodglass can be used instead of that blood substitute Unified Life sells." Louise didn't stop walking and promptly passed the stunned Valen. "It’s much cheaper from what I heard and probably tastes much better too.”

Valen was all too familiar with Unified Life. They were the pharmaceutical company with the sole distribution rights to Bloodplus, the powdery blood substitute vampires needed to take if they had no regular donors and didn’t want to break the law. As if being prohibitively expensive wasn’t enough, the stuff also tasted like such absolute rubbish that no vampire alive could drink it with just plain water. Valen had fed from literal rats that tasted better.

“What’s bloodglass made of?” asked Valen after catching back up to her.

Louise shrugged.

“No idea. I was never a dealer.”

“I’m assuming there are long term side effects? The bloke working the desk didn’t look too good.”

“I’ve heard that it fucks with healing factors and turns your eyes white after a while for some reason, but other than it’s not any worse than plain old heroin.”

“That’s really not all that comforting.”

“Maybe not, but for a lot of people here their will to live comes from at the bottom of a barrel or the tip of a needle. You can’t blame them for taking comfort where they can find it.”

Valen didn’t have a response for that. She was right. That didn’t make it any less wrong, but she was right.

As far as Nocturnal District residents go, Valen was an outlier. The exception that proves the rule. For those who didn’t have the time to study for a scholarship or the dumb luck to befriend one of the richest people in Dragon’s Rest like he did, an obscure death under a sunless sky was all that awaited them.

Louise led Valen down a dirty white hallway with an ugly off-yellow carpet that might’ve also once been white.

They stopped at room 234 and Louise fished out an old iron key from her shorts. The door unlocked with a rusty-sounding click and she opened it to reveal a tiny studio flat that was common fare for the Nocturnal District.

Directly right of the entrance was a door leading to a cramped loo and to the left was the kitchen area that stuffed a stove, sink, microwave, and a narrow fridge into about four feet’s worth of space. Beyond that was the living area that doubled as the bedroom, consisting of a low bed that moonlighted as both a couch for the telly parallel to it and a dining bench for the table right beside it.

The entire place was about the size of his current residence’s smallest toilet, but Valen had just as many fond memories with Louise in this little studio flat as he did with Enid in her posh mansion. He still remembered Louise’s sixteenth birthday, the day she moved into the flat and he helped her unpack what little stuff she brought with her from her parents’ place.

“Fancy a cuppa?” asked Louise, already setting the kettle.

She didn’t need to wait for an answer. They were both Dragonites, and any Dragonite’s answer to being offered a cup of tea would always be a resounding ‘Yes.’

“That’d be lovely.” Valen hung his overcoat on a dusty coat rack beside the door. “I’ll help you set the mugs.”

In three minutes’ time, Valen and Louise were sitting at her bed drinking strong black tea mixed with a generous amount of milk and sugar. Louise drank from a bright yellow mug with an obnoxious smiley face on it while Valen had a dull red one with the words ‘World’s Best Dad’ written on it in white letters.

Once they’d ingested an acceptable amount of tea into their system, Valen set down his mug on the dining table.

“I believe it’s about time we address the dragon in the room,” said Valen.

“I figured.” Louise set down her own mug and reached into the pocket of her hoodie. “Just hear me out first, okay?”

She pulled out a small, round potion flask filled with a dark red liquid. Valen had a pretty good guess as to what it could be.

“I’m guessing that’s the potion from the Primordial Church?”

“Yup,” replied Louise. “I nicked it when they weren’t looking.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I did a bit of snooping on my way to the loo,” Louise explained. “Found a storage room where they kept like a hundred of these in a crate. They were small enough for me to shove one in my pocket so I helped myself to one.”

“Was the storage room locked?”

Louise blinked at him. “Well, yeah, but since when did something like that stop me?”

“Louise.” Valen took a deep breath. “I know why you took that potion and I agree that the stuff can be put to better use anywhere other than that church, but it could spell a lot of trouble for you if they found out you took it.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Louise. “With how much of this stuff they had in storage, I doubt they’ll realise one’s gone. I only picked the padlock and put it back in place once I was finished too. They won’t even notice I was there.”

“That’s good.” Valen allowed himself a sigh of relief. He patted Louise on the shoulder with a smile that showed the pointy teeth he tired to hide from almost everyone else. “You did a good thing, Louise. We could save a lot of people with this.”

Louise beamed at him. Seeing that cheeky, self-satisfied smile of hers made having to be held up in the Nocturnal District worth all the trouble.

“So what’s the plan now?” she asked.

“I’ll bring this potion to Enid,” said Valen. “She’s an amazing alchemist and biochemist so she’ll know what to do. Assuming there are no illegal ingredients or nasty side effects, she might be able to use her resources to replicate it for widespread use.”

Louise furrowed her brow, but her next question wasn’t about Enid’s credentials like he would’ve expected.

“What about you?” she asked.

Valen blinked at her. “What about me?”

“Aren’t you going to take credit for this?” Louise sounded concerned.

Valen furrowed his brow.

“Louise, I’m a university student on his spring break. No one’s going to believe that I had a helping hand in the creation of something like this.”

“So what?” Louise sounded almost offended. “You’re just going to let Thunder Tits take all the credit?”

“If that’s what it takes,” says Valen. “It’s not like you can take credit for the potion either considering you stole it.”

“This isn’t about me either!” Louise stood up from the bed, barely increasing her height enough to look him in the eye. “I did this for you! So you could take credit for it and become a doctor! That’s what you always wanted, isn’t it?”

Valen was taken aback by her motive but kept his cool.

“Louise,” he carefully considered his words, “I appreciate you doing this for me. Really, I do. But it’s just not practical for me to take credit for this and I’m certainly not going to become a doctor because of it.”

“Why not?” Louise’s shoulders slumped in exasperation. “There’s no way your university's med school can just turn away the guy who brought them the cure for cancer, right?”

“That’s not how it works, Louise. Besides, we’re not even sure yet if we can make a viable drug out of this thing yet,” Valen reminded her. “It might give people super cancer after prolonged use for all we know. Even if Enid replicates it with no side-effects, it’d have to go through a million tests before the IDA will consider approving it. At the very most I can claim to be an assistant but I can’t take credit when all I did was bring it to someone better suited than me. Plus, by the time all of that's over and done with, I'll have already graduated.”

“Well, you could…”

Louise paused for a moment to find the right words for a retort, or a suggestion, or anything to counter what Valen just said. When nothing came to mind but an extended brainfart, she let out an exasperated “Aaargh!” before letting herself fall onto the bed back first with a grumpy frown plastered across her face.

“I hate it when you get all reasonable like that,” she said in a huff. “I can’t even be angry at you for it.”

“We live in a pretty mad world.” Valen leant back as well, his long legs dangling next to her short wolven ones from one side of the bed. “Someone’s got to play the straight man and it might as well be me.”

“Good thing too,” said Louise. “You kept me from getting into a lot of trouble when we were kids.”

“And you helped me get out of a lot of trouble too.”

Louise chuckled. “You always did have a knack for attracting trouble.”

“It’s not all that bad.” Valen recalled how he met Louise, back in one of the lowest points in his life scrounging for food at a fast food dumpster. “I never would’ve met you otherwise.”

“A bloody rotten deal if you ask me.”

“I don’t think so, Lou.” He rolled his head to one side to look at her. “The starvation was worth becoming your friend.”

“...You really are daft,” said Louise, though she smiled as she said it.

Louise placed her hand on his and he gladly held it while ignoring the smell of beer and old pizza still emanating from her. A moment of content silence passed before Valen sat up on the bed. He looked at the magic potion on the table.

“We should probably refrigerate that, just in case.” Valen slid off the bed to pick it up. “I’ll wait a bit before calling Enid. She has a bad habit of staying on the phone while driving.”

“You do that.” She hopped out of her bed herself. “Wanna play some Bash Bros? I bought myself a new Shift for it not too long ago.”

“Sounds like a good way to pass the time.” Valen took the potion and placed it in the fridge beside several beer cans. “You want to order something too? My treat.”

“You’re the best, mate. Anything but pizza is fine by me.” Louise took a quick sniff at her own armpits before furrowing her brow. For someone with such a good sense of smell she sure had trouble realising when she stank herself. “Actually, you know what, I’m gonna take a quick shower now. Don’t tell her this but Thunder Tits was right. I smell like arse.”

“You sure?” Valen sat back down on the bed. “I’m still here and there’s not exactly a lot of space here for you to change.”

Louise rolled her eyes. “Valen, you’ve already seen me naked before.”

“Fair enough.” Valen pulled out his phone. “Does Jadinese food sound good?”

“Yeah,” said Louise, already taking off her hoodie. “I’ll just have a box of chicken Chow Mein with a side of sweet and sour pork.”

“Got it.” Valen averted his eyes to stare at a wall as she undressed. She wasn't kidding about the hoodie being baggy. “What about drinks?”

“I’ll just grab a beer from the fridge once the food gets here.” Louise walked to the loo with a white towel wrapped around her. “Knock first if you wanna join me, yeah?”

“I won’t.”

“Won’t join me or won’t knock?”

“Yes.”

Louise allowed herself a small chuckle before disappearing into the loo. Cheesy teenage love songs blasted out from her waterproof phone inside the loo and mingled with the sound of crashing shower water.

While Louise washed herself off, Valen busied himself ordering their food online. Not three minutes after he confirmed his order did a knock come from the front door.

‘That was fast,’ Valen thought to himself. Either the delivery person was grossly overqualified for their job or one of the neighbours decided to pay them an early morning visit.

He wanted to ask Louise if she was expecting someone so early in the morning but decided against it. It’d be a crime to interrupt her shower rendition ‘Maybe Call Me?’ just as it was getting good.

But before Valen even reached the door, the sound of a voice he'd hoped to never hear again cried from the other side, filling him with annoyed dread.

“Louise! I came to check on-”

Valen opened the door to reveal Byron standing in the hallway still dressed in the red dress shirt and white waistcoat he wore at the church. The goofy smile on his fake tanned face melted away upon seeing Valen.

“Mister Byron,” said Valen calmly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Byron asked, not even bothering to sound polite anymore.

“That’s none of your concern, sir.”

Judging by how happy he sounded until the door opened, Valen guessed Byron had come to visit his old crush rather than track down his stolen flask of magic blood. How he got the address in the first place was anyone’s guess but Valen wasn’t about to risk him coming in and finding what Louise stole.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Byron’s eyes shifted to the closed loo where Louise was still singing in the shower, oblivious to his presence. He made a move to enter the room but Valen pushed him back with a firm hand.

“If there’s nothing I can do for you,” said Valen. “I’d suggest you leave now.”

Anger flashed in Byron’s brown eyes. In his blind rage, he reeled his arm back and threw a punch straight into Valen’s face.

It hit Valen in the cheekbone. He allowed his head to roll with the punch to minimise the damage.

The gaudy golden rings around Byron’s fingers hurt like a bitch when they slammed into his face, but Valen had been pummelled by actual knuckle dusters enough times to take an amateur’s mindless strike without blinking or flinching.

Byron took a step back, apparently surprised that he wasn't out cold yet. Valen had to wonder if he’d ever even gone up against someone his own weight class before.

“Are you quite finished?” Valen very slowly moved his head back to its original position, all while looking Byron in the eye. “Or would you like to try punching my other cheek too?”

Their eyes locked in a mutual staredown. For a moment Byron looked like he was going to take him up on his offer. But then, he blinked first.

“You’re going to regret this.” Byron stepped back while pointing a threatening finger at him. “You and that ginger whore you’re cheating on are bloody dead, you hear me?!”

With that, he turned away and stomped off down the hall. Valen narrowed his eyes on his retreating back before stepping into the hall as well and closing the flat door behind him.

Getting a little love tap on the face is one thing. Threatening his best friend was another thing entirely, and a step too far in his book.

Valen tucked his black ponytail into his dress shirt. No point in giving Byron something easy to grab onto.

“Excuse me, sir.” Valen grabbed Bryon from behind by his left shoulder as he was making for the stairs. “I believe I’ve misheard you.”

He spun the stalker preacher around to face him in one swift motion followed by a straight punch into his throat.

Byron let out a wet choking noise and stumbled back clawing at his own neck. He wouldn’t be able to repeat what he said to Valen now even if he wanted to-or call for help for that matter.

“Can you please repeat what you said?” Valen asked before immediately punching him in the solar plexus right between his chest and stomach to make sure he wouldn’t be able to answer.

Byron doubled over heaving for a breath that couldn’t enter through his damaged throat. Valen took the opportunity to grab him by the ears to hold him in place while he kneed him repeatedly in the face.

Shockwaves shook his kneecap every time he smashed it against Byron’s nose. He felt the soft cartilage in his nose break the first time but he kept kneeing the same spot a few more times just to make sure before slamming his head into the nearest wall. Byron leaned on the wall for only a moment before slowly sliding down, leaving a faint trail of blood on the dirty white wallpaper where his bleeding nose had touched it.

Though Valen didn’t want to drink any of Byron’s rotten blood, the smell of it was distracting all the same.

“Can you please repeat what you said?” repeated Valen, his voice now a low whisper from the fangs growing inside his mouth.

He doubted Byron heard him. But then again, no answer would have changed what happens next anyways.

Valen knew from study and firsthand experience that a broken nose was among the most excruciating injuries one could get in a brawl. If the punch to the throat and solar plexus wasn’t enough to shut him up, the disorientation caused by a broken nose would make sure he couldn’t think of anything else but the blinding pain caused by his screaming nerves.

Tears ran down Byron’s face from overstimulated tear ducts that had been connected to his now shattered nose. Those same tears would blur his vision and make him miss any punch he threw if he was stupid enough to try. Which, as it turns out, he was.

Byron let out a hoarse, unintelligible swear and lunged at Valen with a blind jab. Valen took one step to he side and allowed Byron to faceplant himself onto the floor.

Before he could think of getting up, Valen stomped on his back right where his kidney should be. The impact laid Byron flat on the floor and forced reddish spittle to fly from his bruised lips. Then, because he was the careful sort, Valen flipped him over with a kick to the liver.

Byron rolled onto his back with his arms splayed out like a turtle tipped onto its shell. Valen pressed his knee on Byron’s right arm to make sure he couldn’t raise it before hammering his fist into his face.

He got about three solid strikes in before stopping himself. Partially because he didn’t want to actually kill Byron. Mostly because his fake orange tan was starting to rub off on his glove.

“Gross,” Valen muttered to himself before wiping his hand on Byron’s chest, leaving an orange-ish stain of blood and tanning fluid on the white fabric of his waistcoat.

Most of Byron's injuries were enough to kill or at the very least knock out a human. Being a werewolf allowed him to stay conscious, which could be a pro or a con depending on how one looks at it.

Valen grabbed Byron by the collar of his shirt and dragged him with one hand towards the tall stairs leading down. He pulled him up and slammed him against a wall for a few parting words.

“Since you can’t answer, just nod if you can still understand me.” The extended fangs in Valen’s mouth forced him to speak in a low, raspy tone. “If you ever even think of going anywhere near Louise or Enid, I’ll flay off that white pelt you’re so proud of and smother you with it. Are we clear on that, sir?

Byron didn’t have the morale or the ability to argue, so he only offered the faintest of nods alongside a garbled word that sounded almost like a “Yes.”

“Good,” said Valen before promptly pushing him down the stairs.

Byron tumbled down hitting the sharp edge of almost every step on his way to the bottom. He reached the landing with a heavy thud. A long groan escaped his bruised lips as he curled up on his side in a foetal position.

“You’ll heal,” said Valen. “I would recommend drinking some of your god’s blood if you don’t.”

Valen waited for Byron to get up and leave. When he didn’t, Valen took a single step down the stairs that he made sure sounded as loud and ominous as possible.

Adrenaline coursed through Byron’s battered body at the portent of another oncoming beatdown, allowing him to scurry as fast and as far away as he could before it could reach him.

With that nasty bit of business out of the way, Valen pulled out his phone to make a call. The dial tone rang for a good three seconds before someone picked up.

“What’s up?” asked Enid from the other side, having seen his caller ID. The sound of beeping car horns in the background told him she was still stuck in traffic. “Got tired of Snowball yet?”

Valen let out a soft laugh. “No, no, we’re getting along just fine. I’m just calling to tell you to be careful.”

“Why?”

“Byron came by just now. Not sure how he has Louise’s address but I got him to leave before he could meet her.”

“Did you beat the dog shit out of him?”

“Got a bit bruised for my trouble but yeah.”

“Good,” said Enid in approval. “Seriously, screw that guy.”

“I’m glad we agree on that,” said Valen with a smile that showed in his voice. “Try to stay safe though. He threatened you before he left and if he could get Louise’s address he could probably get yours too.”

“Got it,” said Enid. “I’ll electrocute any stranger who stops by.”

“Just avoid doing that to the mailman again, yeah?”

“Hey, that creep had it coming.”

“Speaking of stopping by.” Valen cleared his throat in dread. “Is it okay if I bring Louise over to your place later?”

A tense moment of silence passed. Valen felt his heart beat faster than when he was pummelling Byron half to death.

“Why?” Enid asked at last.

“It’s important but it’s better if I explain in person. You never know who could be listening.”

More silence.

It was broken at last by a simple “Fine” from Enid before she hung up the phone.

Valen wondered if he’d just made another terrible mistake.

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