Chapter Text
Marcus sat nursing a beer, listening to the warbled and blown out jukebox in the corner struggle to fill the room with the sounds of Fleetwood Mac. Picking at the bottle’s label, he huffs out a breath, blowing his stringy mess of hair out of his face. His real work was to start tomorrow, but for now he was easing his body into this awkward new time zone, adjusting to his surroundings.
He’d been called by an industry friend, someone he’d gone to college with long, long ago. Something about women in the area becoming mysteriously ill. He rolled his eyes, despite himself as he remembered the early morning Skype call he’d had with his friend… talk of a possible…what? Cryptid? He loathed to use that word. Until he knew what he was dealing with, he’d have to make do with the term.
Glancing at his watch, Marcus notices that it’s 1am. He’s not tired, still running on New York time apparently. He’d been here two days already. He felt strangely at home in England, despite having never visited before. The weather was comfortingly dreary this time of year, forcing him to rug up to keep the wind from coursing straight through him, chilling his bones. He signals to the bartender for another beer, picking at the pickled onion flavoured snacks sat in front of him. They smell disgusting, but holy hell, he has to buy a case of them before leaving the UK, he thinks to himself. There is an odd sense of camaraderie and community within these walls, he ponders. Men gathered around tables, brimming with an obscene amount of empty pint glasses, stacked in precarious towers. Every now and then there is a roar of laughter from the opposite side of the pub. It’s nice…being surrounded by happy faces, but still very much alone. The phone buzzing in his pocket brings him from his daze, noting that it was a message from Ben, his old college friend and main contact here in England. Details for their first trip to what Ben has been referring to as “The Site”. Ben’s almost superstitious caution surrounding this…what is it? Case? His caution amuses Marcus a great deal, the tall, gentle man has always been a little gullible and easily spooked.
The smile on Marcus’ face all but melts off as he hears a loud and obnoxious voice make itself heard above the loud chatter and music of the pub.
“If anyone is to defeat this TERROR Travis… it is I! Modern day Metatron and voice to our Dark Lord Lucifer Morningstar, Cardinal Henry Zebrowski!”
Marcus was almost certain that his eye roll was audible. Henry FUCKING Zebrowski. He should have known that his holy eminence would make an appearance. He laughs quietly to himself as he sees Henry look around, checking to see if anyone has noticed his arrival. The look of subtle annoyance sitting heavily on his face lets Marcus know that he’s less than thrilled by his reception. Henry makes his way to the bar, scooting into a small opening in the crowd. “One of your darkest ales please, kind sir!”
“All of this research, all of this physical preparation Travis! It’s going to take a man of the utmost bravery and tenacity Travis…” Henry’s long suffering assistant Travis nods obediently, waiting for Henry to find his way to the ending of the sentence he’s currently ranting. “A man tasked by Lucifer himself! Only the upper echelon of the church would even be considered for such a task Travis!”
As the bartender sets Henry’s drink down on the bench in front of him, Henry’s voice predictably rises. “A man…tasked with slaying… The VAMPYRE of Highgate Cemetery!”
Marcus groans to himself. Of course. Of course this dip shit would be here too. What theatrical Satanic bullshit will he pull this time? Of course Marcus is a man of the occult…but he’s also a man of science. Deep down he hopes that there IS a vampire lurking amongst the crypts of Highgate Cemetery. Does he think that’s the case? God no. It’d be kinda fun, really. Usually these things are pretty easy to disprove. He supposes that he isn’t entirely shocked to see His Dark Eminence, Cardinal of Darkness, Henry fucking Zebrowski here, after all.
He’d bumped into Henry a few other times, while working on other occult and paranormal projects. He is utterly maddening in Marcus’ opinion. He’s almost certain that Travis can’t stand him either and finds himself shooting the young man sympathetic glances every now and then. It’s not just Henry’s loud, verbose personality that rubs Marcus the wrong way. He has this…schtick? A gimmick? “Yes, that’s the word…” the brunette nods to himself, sipping his beer. This whole “Dark Cardinal, harbinger of death and spreader of the Satanic word” bullshit drives him nuts. He acts like he is a legitimate religious leader. As if anyone in a sane state would follow this man to the grocery store, let alone to the afterlife!
“Cardinal Zebrowski” He mutters to himself, glancing over at the two men who have attracted a small crowd finally. Henry is wearing a black cassock cape with red trimmings, black leather gloves, with a blood red biretta perched atop his scruffy red hair completing the look. In the midst of working class British men who are clearly still hanging around from their quick after work drink, he looks utterly ridiculous. Travis is mercifully dressed in a much more subtle manner, adorning a black suit with a pointed collar and elegant black tails. Marcus noticed the last time he was forced to deal with Henry, that they both had a sigil, or insignia embroidered on their lapel. It looked like an inverted cross, but different. It almost looked like the letter “G”. It was most unusual, and he hadn’t managed to find anything about it in any of his varied resource books. Probably part of Zebrowski’s fake religious bullshit, no doubt.
Downing the rest of his drink, Marcus weaves his way through the crowded room, heading towards the door when he hears that damn voice bellowing again. “MARCUS PARKS! ENEMY OF THE CHURCH AND MY OWN PERSONAL ADVERSARY!”
“Hello Henry.” Marcus winces. He can’t deal with this shit right now, he just wants to slink away to his hotel. “I assume i’ll be seeing you tomorrow?”
“AT HIGHGATE! Indeed my square shaped friend. You’re wasting your time, my dear boy, as it is I who will defeat…” Marcus mouths along, as Henry is predictable as always… “THE VAMPYRE OF HIGHGATE CEMETARY!”. The way that Henry pronounces the word makes Marcus smirk. “Vam-peer”. What a crock.
“We’ll see Zebrowski. I’ll see you when i’m looking at you I guess.”
He pushes his way into the streets and starts the walk back to his hotel.