Valen closed the door to Enid’s car. He had a screen recording of Byron’s last video saved in his phone, though he still didn’t know what the hell he was going to do with it.

Enid strapped on her seatbelt and sped out of the neighbourhood as quickly as the speed limit allowed her.

“Our only lead’s probably dead now,” said Enid. “Now what?”

“We could try sending this video to the police,” said Valen. “Not sure how much good it’ll do if the Primordial Church has connections there though. Plus we’d be confessing to breaking and entering into someone’s house.”

“The only thing we can do then.” Louise cracked her knuckles. “We break into the Primordial Church after hours and beat the shit out of the first preacher we find there until they give us some answers!”

“You do realise that preachers don’t live in the church they work at, right?” said Enid.

“That’ll make it easier to break in then!”

Valen cleared his throat. “I think we’ve had enough breaking and entering for one day.”

“What do you suggest we do then?” asked Enid.

“Let’s go check out Louise’s flat,” said Valen. “The police might’ve missed something that we could use.”

Louise scoffed. “That’s assuming they bothered looking in the first place.”

Enid raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“The police don’t care about the Nocturnal District,” said Louise. “They couldn’t be arsed to do anything as long as nobody dies. And even if someone did they’ll use whatever bullshit they can come up with to rule it as an accident or suicide so they don’t have to investigate any further.”

“You’re overexaggerating,” said Enid, though she sounded unsure.

“Actually, she’s right about that,” said Valen. “I once saw someone get jumped in the middle of the street and called the police. It took them an hour to get there and they tried to rule it a suicide despite the bajillion stab wounds.”

“Bloody hells.” Enid furrowed her brow in worry. “How old were you?”

“Around ten, I believe. It was before I met you.”

“That must’ve been traumatic for you.”

“It’s just another Sunday for the Nocturnal District,” said Louise. “I’ve seen plenty of people die around here.”

“And people just accept that?”

“They don’t have a choice,” said Valen. “After I reported the murder to the police members of the gang tracked me down and beat me until I fainted.”

“Yeah, you got real lucky there,” said Louise. “Most snitches get a lot more than a few stitches. They must’ve gone easy on you because you were a kid.”

“How come you never talked about this?” asked Enid.

“I didn’t think it was important,” said Valen. “It’s all in the past anyways.”

There was a long pause before Enid broke the silence with something he didn’t expect.

“Did you regret it?”

Valen gave her a puzzled look she couldn’t see with her eyes on the road. “Regret what?”

“Telling on that gangster,” said Enid. “Did you regret doing it?”

Valen considered it for a moment. He certainly regretted it when he was getting the shit kicked out of him by four pairs of steel-toed boots. But looking back, he wasn’t too sure anymore.

“I don’t think so,” said Valen, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I mean, it was the right thing to do…right?”

“...Hmm.” Enid slowed down the car upon entering a main road. “Oy, Snowball, can you give me directions to your place?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Louise leaned forward in between the two front seats. “Just follow my directions, yeah?”

Under Louise’s instruction, Enid drove them back to the old block of flats she called home, where they parked the car in an obscure corner of the parking lot hoping no one would see and try to steal it.

Enid grimaced at the sight of the building and the white paint peeling off its ancient brick walls.

“This place is in dire need of renovation,” she said. “That, or a bulldozer.”

Louise pushed open the car door and hopped out. “Good luck finding someone around here who’ll pay for either of that.”

Valen followed her out the car into the cold stagnant air. “Let’s go.”

The smell of damp mould emanating from the moist yellow carpet assaulted their nostrils the moment they entered the building. Enid scrunched up her nose. Louise inhaled deeply before letting out a content sigh.

“No smell like home,” she said.

“How the hell is your nose not destroyed yet?” said Enid.

“It’s not that bad,” Valen lied.

He looked at the receptionist desk where the same vampire still sat nodding off. Not much had changed since his last visit there. Valen was pretty sure he still wore the same oversized red shirt that he only now noticed was covered in grease stains. On the plus side, he seemed marginally more sober than the last time they met.

Rather than a drug-induced stupor, his black-white eyes were fixed on his phone as he idly scrolled through social media.

Resurfacing memories of the Unborn God sent a chill down Valen’s spine. When it had appeared to him in the guise of his own reflection, it’d presented itself with black sclera and white pupils and irises rather than the red-white eyes it had in its true abhorrent form. Eyes just like the ones the vampire receptionist had.

Valen was about to tell his friends to ignore him when Louise walked ahead of him and slammed her open palm into the receptionist’s desk.

“Oy Nigel!”

“Ack!” Nigel fell backwards on his own chair in surprise.

There was a loud crash as he hit the floor and Valen rushed over behind the desk to help him up.

“Are you alright?” asked Valen, offering the gaunt young vampire a hand.

“Uh, veah.” He grabbed Valen’s hand, the protruding bones of his skeletal fingers digging deep into his flesh. “Shansh’sh.”

Valen assumed he meant ‘Thanks’. His extended fangs flashed in the dim light as he spoke. They forced him to speak in a heavy lisp, unable to properly pronounce his Ses and spitting every time he spoke. It was the mark of a starving vampire. One in such a constant state of hunger that their fangs refused to retract themselves.

Colloquially called “Fangspeak”, it was a common problem for destitute vampires that often made people look down on them. Valen himself worked hard to train himself to keep his fangs retracted even when starving so that he could study outside of the Nocturnal District. It took him even longer to learn how to speak without lisping when the fangs were extended in his mouth.

Nigel steadied himself on Valen’s shoulder and rubbed the back of his head. He blinked then squinted, his eyes widening in surprise upon seeing Louise.

“Louish?” He immediately straightened himself and cleared his throat. “Ahem. Shorry. Isth shere thamthing I can help you witsh?”

Sweat was already forming on the back of his neck. Valen didn’t know what Louise must’ve done to make him so afraid of her, but Louise being Louise he was willing to bet it involved punching some poor sod in the balls.

“The police came by a couple days ago when my flat was broken into,” said Louise without missing a beat. “Did you show them any security footage?”

“No,” said Nigel.

“Why not?” asked Enid with a hand on her hip.

“Shey didn’t ask!” Nigel turned back to Louise. “She’sh nosh from around here, ish she?”

“She’s visiting,” said Louise before pointing a casual thumb towards Valen. “Same goes for Valen over there.”

Valen wanted to avoid Nigel if at all possible. Louise might’ve said that the white eyes came from his drug use but he couldn’t get over how closely they resemble the Unborn God’s. Still, now that she went ahead and got his attention, they might as well make use of it.

“We were hoping that you could show us the security footage on the night of the breakin,” said Valen.

Nigel narrowed his eyes at Valen in suspicion. “Shorry, but do I know you?”

There was another loud bang when Louise slammed her palm into the desk, startling Nigel again before vaulting over the desk and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling down to her height.

“He’s none of your concern,” she said, golden eyes staring straight into his petrified soul. “I am. Now you’re going to show us what we want to see or I’m flushing down that bloodglass stash you keep in the potted plant next to the toilet.”

“I-I’ll shee what I can do!” he stammered out with eyes wide in horror.

“Good.” Louise released her grip on Nigel’s collar and he scampered away to a backroom.

“That’s one way to get information,” said Enid under her breath.

Valen frowned. He beckoned Louise and Enid closer two wagging fingers. After exchanging a glance with one another, they both huddled close to him and leant him their ears.

“We should be careful around that Nigel bloke,” he said in a hush voice he hoped would not be heard by his fellow vampire’s hypersensitive hearing.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” said Louise, already speaking at her usual volume. “He’s harmless.”

“It’s not just that,” Valen continued, still speaking in a hushed whisper. “ It’s his eyes. Don’t they look familiar to those monster cultists we’ve been fighting?”

“Now that you mention it,” said Enid, her tone sharing his caution. “The white pupils and irises do look familiar.”

“That’s just because of the drugs,” said Louise, though she did lower her voice. “Bloodglass does that to long time users. Besides, those guys also had red in their…what do you call it? The white bits in your eyes that are black for vampires.”

“Sclera,” said Valen. “But that doesn’t prove anything. I’m pretty sure their white sclera only turned red because they got bloodshot. But if that happened to a vampire, it wouldn’t be visible because their eyes are already black and you wouldn’t be able to see the blood pooling in them.”

“It’s…possible.” Enid looked at Louise. “You said that his eyes became that way because of drug use?”

“Yeah, bloodglass.” Louise’s expression grew worried. “It’s a new drug…that can be used as a blood substitute…”

A look of dawning realisation spread across their faces.

“Do you know what bloodglass is made of?” asked Enid.

“No,” said Louise, her voice now as soft as theirs. “I don’t think anyone who uses it does, actually.”

“So then,” Valen felt his stomach sank, “do you think one of the ingredients could be-”

The backroom door flung open, banging into the wall beside it with a loud crash. Valen, Enid, and Louise pursed their lips and looked at the door to find Nigel standing under the door frame suddenly looking a lot more twitchy than before.

“C-come in,” he said while scratching an arm full of reddish needle wounds. “I’ve shet up the sh’curity fooshage fer you.”

“Thank you,” said Valen. “We’ll be right there.”

“C-cool.” Nigel continued to scratch his arms until his black nails were drawing bits of blood. “I-I’ll vait for you to finish at ze zesk.”

“Oh.” Valen allowed his shoulders to slump in relief. For a moment there he was worried that Nigel would join them in the cramped backroom so that he could strike as they were busy viewing the tapes. “Much obliged, sir. We’ll let you know when we’re finished.”

“Yeah.” Louise buried her hands in her pockets. “Thanks.”

“N-no problemsh.” Nigel sat back at his desk, averting his eyes from them.

Valen kept his eyes on him as he walked into the backroom with Enid and Louise, glancing behind at him all the way until he closed the door. He remained for a moment, willing his hypersensitive hearing into existence. When he heard nothing but Enid and Louise’s heartbeats, he let out a sigh of relief.

“This room’s soundproof,” said Valen. “We can speak freely here.”

“Do you think Nigel could be a threat?” asked Enid.

“He’s always been harmless enough,” said Louise. “I mean, he doesn’t really do much but get high and not do his job.”

“If my hunch is right,” said Valen, “then there’s a good chance this bloodglass drug has the Unborn God’s blood in it.”

“Why would the Unborn God make drugs out of it though?” asked Louise. “I mean, what’s the point?”

“The Primordial Church hands out the blood to people suffering from injuries and terminal illnesses,” said Valen. “Vampires are immune to disease and their healing factor means they just need regular blood to regenerate from anything. Maybe it’s their way of extending their influence to those who don’t need their healing?”

“Does this mean he could get possessed too?” Louise asked. “Like you were?”

“I…don’t think so?” Valen wasn’t entirely sure of himself. “The Unborn God said something about me being different. If it could possess just anyone who’s drunk its blood then I doubt it would’ve gone to the trouble of targeting me in particular.”

He was also fairly certain that the sleeping pills Enid gave him were part of the reason why he got taken over so easily, but elected to keep quiet about it. Enid shouldn’t have to feel guilty for just trying to help.

“I’m still convinced that it has to do with your bloodline,” said Enid. “The gods used to communicate with royals as part of their divine right, yes? If you got royal blood in you then that explains why the Unborn God wants you on its side so much.”

“It’s still difficult to believe,” said Valen. “I knew my family were exiled nobles but royalty?”

“I mean,” Louise pointed at her left ear, the same ear where Valen wore his silver-ruby earring, “I don’t know how rich Necropolian nobles are supposed to be, but that's an awfully expensive-looking earring you got for an heirloom.”

Enid cleared her throat. “If people with the Unborn God’s blood in them can’t be possessed then we’re still left with the question of why the Primordial Church is sneaking it into people using drugs in the first place.”

“It could be a way for them to make some additional money.” Valen shook his head. “Well, whatever. Nigel doesn’t seem to be dangerous at the moment so we can afford to not overthink this right now. Let’s just take a look at the security footage.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” Louise massaged her temples. “All this talk is giving me a headache.”

They turned their attention back to the tiny backroom they were in. It wasn’t much to look at, and judging by the dust and cobwebs must’ve been very rarely used. The only thing of worth or interest was an oversized outdated computer sat atop an old desk that just barely managed to hold up its weight. Its pixelated screen showed a digital archive of security footage stretching all the way to several years ago.

Enid pulled out the faded dining chair tucked under the desk and dusted off before taking a seat. “Let’s see what we can find on this thing.”

Louise sat at the edge of the desk beside Enid while Valen leaned over her shoulder with one hand on the desk.

After a good minute or so of scrolling through the long list of video files titled only by their date, she found the one for the day both Louise’s flat got broken into. Enid clicked on the video and was greeted by a single screen showing the lobby with Nigel sitting high at the receptionist desk as per usual.

Enid grimaced. She clicked out of the video and double-checked the videos list.

“There’s only one camera angle?” she asked.

“Only one that I know of,” said Louise. “I don’t think the landlord was able to afford any more. Or maybe they just didn’t care to add any more.”

“Hmph.” Enid clicked on the video again. “I doubt we’ll learn much from this then. It’s not like the people who broke in are going to walk into this building through the front door.”

“Still,” said Valen, “it couldn’t hurt to double check.”

And so they did, watching the video play at ten times the usual speed hoping to find something useful. They eventually passed the moment when Valen and Louise entered the building at the crack of dawn, which was followed by Byron swaggering into the building shortly afterwards. Enid reduced the footage back to normal speed in time to see Byron run out of the lobby with his nonexistent tail between his legs, his face a lumpy mess of cuts and bruises.

“Holy shit,” said Louise. “Valen, did you do all of that?”

“Technically speaking,” said Valen. “The stairs I threw him down must’ve accounted for a few of those injuries.”

“Still think you should’ve kicked him in the balls,” said Enid.

Enid sped up the video again and they witnessed the moment Valen and Louise left the lobby after sunset but not much else afterwards.

The entire time from eight o’clock to nine o’clock, the time where Enid’s house was broken into and presumably Louise’s as well, showed only a quiet lobby with Nigel staring into the ceiling after having shot himself up with another dose of melted bloodglass.

“Well this was a bust,” said Louise. “This probably means they got in through the window, right?”

“Seems so,” said Valen. He was about to call things off when the sight of a familiar grey suit caught his eye. “Wait, stop right there.”

Enid did as he said and paused the video. The timestamp told them that the footage was late into the night, and on the screen were two people walking side by side in the lobby. One was a bearded blonde elf in a grey two-piece suit while the other was a kitsune woman whose bushy orange tail poked out between her black waistcoat and trousers.

“Louise, do you recognise either of these two as tenants?” asked Valen.

“No, but then again I don’t know everyone who lives here,” said Louise. “Why?”

“Enid, roll back the footage a bit,” Valen continued. “I want to see the elf’s face.”

“Got it.” Enid clicked at the progress bar until she got an image of the elf looking at the lobby door facing the camera as he waited for the kitsune woman to catch up. Enid squinted at the image. “Hold on a second…”

Louise’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that the guy from Byron’s video? Cyril, was it?”

Valen took out his phone and sped through the screen recording of Byron's video before stopping it at a moment where Cyril’s face could clearly be seen. He held up his phone to compare the screenshot on his phone to the pixelated security footage on the computer.

Blonde hair, bearded face, muscular build. He even wore the exact same grey two-piece suit and undersized white t-shirt. There was no doubt about it. This was the same elf as the one who broke into Byron’s house.

“Oh, shit.” Louise pointed at the screen. “Look!”

Valen looked at where she pointed and felt his heart skip a beat. Clipped to Cyril’s belt was a silver badge shaped like a dragon’s head, marking him as an officer of Dragon’s Rest Metropolitan Police.

“Well.” Enid leaned back on the chair. “That can’t be good.”

“Great!” Louise threw her hands in the air. “As if the regular pigs weren’t bloody bad enough! Now one of them’s a cultist!”

“He’s not just a regular officer either,” said Enid. “He’s got a badge but he’s not in uniform. He has to be a detective at the very least.”

“What about that kitsune he’s with?” asked Valen.

Enid continued playing the video and paused when the kitsune woman entered the frame, showing that she also had a police badge clipped to her belt.

“Looks like she’s an officer too,” said Enid. “His partner maybe?”

“Do you think she could be part of the cult too?” asked Louise.

“It’s possible,” said Valen. “Or she could just be his coworker in his day job.”

“Either way.” Louise crossed her arms. “We shouldn’t expect the pigs to help us with anything from now on.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right.” Enid continued to speed through the rest of the video’s runtime until the recording ran out without anything else of use being shown. “There goes this lead, I guess.”

Enid stood up and tucked the chair back under the desk.

“No other option than to go straight to the source then,” said Valen.

“Are we breaking into a church?” asked Louise. “Because I’d be totally down with that. Fuck the gods.”

“That does seem like the only option at the moment.” Valen took a deep breath. “But in any case, let’s get back to Enid’s place to plan things out.”

“Fine by me.” Enid reached for the door only for it to open on its own.

Nigel stood on the other side. Bloody tears streamed down his black-white eyes, which were wide open in a drugged-out high. His clenched fangs parted to whisper a single word only Valen could hear through his heavy lisp.

“I’m sorry.”

Enid didn’t see the bat Nigel held until he swung it down against her head.