Chapter Text
Everything stung. His body felt as though several needles had been jabbed in places they shouldn’t have gone. Everything around him felt too bright as he tried to open his eyes. It wasn’t helping that he couldn’t quite remember why everything hurt so bad.
Ozza pushed himself off the cot he lay on, the daylight meeting his eyes. He rolled over so he was eclipsed in shadows, away from the blinding light. As he moved, a sharp sting in his neck tore through, sure to shake his senses awake. He shivered from the sudden cold that swept through his body, as if he’d been thrown into a frozen lake.
What happened to me? Ozza wondered, trying to keep calm. Glancing around, he noticed he was in a room with several cots like his own, one that looked used recently and another that inhabited an unconscious man with bandages covering him. Ozza recognized it as a healing room, possibly the home of a Doctor. But where was the Doctor? Where was anyone for that matter? What happened here? What happened to him? These were questions Ozza couldn’t answer.
Ozza recalled talking with Brood. They were discussing living together in one of the houses inhabited by a Townie once upon a time. He remembered finding the remains of an oil painting laying on the dining room table, and that started up a conversation between them.
“We’re… living in someone’s house?” Ozza carefully examined the painting. The portrait was that of a woman with a strong gaze, with eyes that hinted that she knew what was coming to those who crossed her path.
Skadj had been more than willing to lead them into a vacant home; Ozza hadn’t expected the belongings of the previous owner to still be there. “The owner’s dead, been dead for a little bit now,” the Ambusher grinned. “I might have been the one that killed her,” he said all too proudly.
Brood nodded his head. “It’s a little big for my liking, but it’ll manage. Thanks, Skadj.”
“No problem,” Skadj made his way back out the door. “Take care.”
The two men began searching the place, familiarizing themselves with the layout. Ozza went to examine the bedrooms - the house had two thankfully, one room more used than the other. Maybe he was being selfish, given that they were in a house someone lived in before, but Ozza wanted to stay in the unused room. Taking the used one felt… wrong.
Taking the house for their own felt wrong to him.
A loud clatter downstairs made Ozza worry. As he ran downstairs to see what the matter was, he found Brood scouring the house, leaving piles of paperwork on the tables, looking for something. Or at first glance, that was what Ozza thought he was doing.
“Damned Vigi…,” he muttered. “Why a Vigilante’s home? And why is it so… empty…?”
“Brood? What are you doing?” Ozza asked.
The Blackmailer jumped up in surprise, startled. His eyes were wild, like he expected something to jump out at him. “Oh, Ozza. Eh, don’t worry about it…”. He went back to digging around. He suddenly knocked the stack of papers over in frustration, leaving a small mess behind. He growled at it, something clearly on his mind.
“Brood,” Ozza gently tugged at his arm. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s… the place is nice, don’t get me wrong,” Brood sighed. “Remember how I was talking to you about why I keep my house looking the way it does?”
Ozza nodded, understanding quickly where this was going. “Does… the cleanliness bother you that much?”
“YES!” Brood shouted unexpectedly. “I need to go back, get all my stuff and fill this place up! This house… it’s too big! Too empty! It practically reeks of uninhabitable living conditions! I can’t work with-!”
“Brood!” Ozza grabbed his arms before he could make a bigger mess. “We can go back to our old town and grab our stuff tomorrow! I saw some wagon carts on our way into town, so we can take the roads -.”
“Ozza, Junk’s not letting us leave!”
That was news to the Escort. “What? Why?”
“He refuses to let us out if his sight,” Brood explained. “We can’t leave the house until the Godfather says everything is -!”
“Junk said we should always stay in pairs! He didn’t say anything about leaving!” Ozza exclaimed. “And he told his Mafia to follow those rules! I refuse to do anything the leader of the Mafia wants!”
Brood stared at Ozza incredulously. “I won’t let you disobey his orders!”
“I take no orders from my enemies!” Ozza glared. “You want a house you can live in? You want to go back to our old town to pack your belongings and dump them all here? Make a mess out of our shared home?! Your Godfather would certainly understand your needs!” Ozza flailed his arms around. “And what about mine?! You think I could live in such a mess house like that?!”
Brood blinked, eyes narrowing. “You… you know I’m self-conscious about how lively I wanted my house to feel! I wanted it to feel busy, interactive! I don’t want to feel…!”
“Like what?”
“… I-I don’t want to feel isolated! Encased in an empty cell! That’s not comfortable!”
“Well, I can’t live in a dump heap, nor do I want to live in a place inhabited by someone your Mafia killed! Do you even know how wrong that feels?!”
“When did this become about living in a dead person’s home?! You wanted to come live with us! With me!”
“I wanted us to be together again!” Ozza wailed. “I just wanted us to be together…!” He broke down into tears.
Brood’s gaze softened, but still held the bitterness from the fight. “It’s fine,” he muttered eventually. “Just for tonight, I’ll manage.”
Ozza just stared at him, dumbfounded. “Wh… no! Brood, that’s… I won’t live in a place where neither of us are happy!”
“Well, Ozza, we’re kinda stuck with this place until tomorrow!” Brood retorted. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow, we can sort all of this out and find a way to convince Junk to let us go back to our town to grab our stuff.”
Brood didn’t wait to hear Ozza’s reply. The Escort was left in dismay at what had just transpired. Not even their first day living together, and they were already fighting. Still in tears, Ozza turned and stormed outside, hoping to clear his head. He ignored how dark it was outside, in favor of locking himself away in another house, away from Brood for the night. He was an Escort; he didn’t have to follow the Godfather’s rules. He would be fine on his own.
Ozza stepped foot into the new house, not bothering to lock the door in his misery. He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until there was a clammy and cold hand forced over his mouth and he was pushed against the wall.
“I’m very hungry,” a voice hissed darkly. “And you smell of fresh blood, ready for feeding!”
Those were the last words he remembered hearing before he suddenly blacked out. Ozza moved a hand to brush over his neck: the skin felt tender, like it was bruised. He had bruises on his neck before, but nothing quite like this. This wasn’t something Brood would’ve given him. Ozza was certain he’d been attacked.
“Ozza! Hi, how are you feeling?”
The sudden voice and bright green aura of Vikram startled Ozza out of his thoughts. The Medium - to Ozza’s surprise - also leapt back in shock, making a small noise.
“Holy, flip! Are those real?!” Vik pointed, tilting his head.
“Are, what real?” Ozza frowned, unsure of what Vik was talking about.
Vik stumbled over his words, looking over at nothing visible to Ozza. Vik started whispering, “What do I tell him?” repeatedly, his nervousness making Ozza worry.
“Vik, just tell me what it is?” Ozza yelled after a moment.
The Medium flinched, a sigh curtly following. “Um, Oz, you’re not gonna believe this, but Aphex and Kara are with me right now, and… we’ll… you’re not gonna like this.”
Ozza grew tired of Vik’s stalling. He stood up from the cot angrily, the sunlight from the window blinding his gaze for a brief second. “Oh, will you just spit it out?!”
“You’re a Vampire, Ozza.”
The Escort froze. “I’m… a what?!”
Vik didn’t say anything after that. He was flinching noticeably, mumbling words of apology under his breath to whoever Aphex and Kara were. Ozza sprinted for the bathroom, immediately recognizing the lack of reflection in the mirror. With his tongue, he felt around in his mouth for the fangs that he was positive Vik had asked if were real. Indeed, they were.
“Vikram!” Ozza shouted, angry and panicked. “Who did this to me?! Where are the others?! Why didn’t you say anything quicker?!”
A soft rumble caught Ozza’s attention. In the doorway, the strange yet familiar face of Ellum poked his head into the room. His face held a look of concern. “You’re awake, I see,” he noted. “I’ll let the others know.”
Ozza wasn’t given the chance to object before Ellum rounded the corner again and disappeared. He was left staring blankly at the mirror, where his reflection should have been.
“Kara says she can help you adjust, but,” Vik paused. “You have to go to Ze’s? Who’s that?” He asked the air around him.
“I don’t want to adjust to this!” Ozza whisper yelled. “How do I change back? Where’s the Doctor that owns this place?”
“That would be Aphex, and he’s yelling at me to tell you to “get the fuck back in bed”,” Vik pointed to where Aphex would be hovering.
Ozza groaned. Great, I can’t even get medical help to deal with this! His thoughts raced through hypotheticals: what would the Mafia do to him if they knew? What would Brood say? How would he react?!
Before he could think about hiding, the door opened once more to reveal Ellum, followed by the entire Mafia. Brood was at the head behind Ellum, pushing past to get to Ozza first.
“Ozza! Jesus, are you okay?!” Brood fussed. “Oh my god, your neck! What kind of monstrous creature did this to you?!” He suddenly glared and pointed an accusatory finger at Ellum. “Was it you?!”
Ellum whimpered, backing away with his arms raised. “No it wasn’t! He would be dead if it was me!”
Brood continued to glare until Junk stepped in and placed a hand over the Blackmailer’s shoulder. “This doesn’t look like any Werewolf bite; this was a Vampire’s doing.” He paused, glancing over at Chilled and Skadj, who both held each other comfortingly. “Unmistakably Ze’s doing, too.”
“Why? What drove him to do this?!” Chilled demanded, upset.
“Junk explained when we got here,” Skadj shook his head at Chilled’s cries. “The dead harassed him into doing it. We left him alone for too long.” He spoke sadly.
“Fuck, I should’ve told you to stay with him!” Chilled balled his fists, regret evident in his voice.
“You were his best friend! You should’ve stayed with him!” Skadj insisted, as if insulted the Mafioso would even suggest that. “You have the voice that catches everyone’s attention! You could’ve been there to tell the ghosts to fuck off!”
“What if he just needed someone to comfort him? I’m not good with physical contact!” Chilled exclaimed. “He trusts you! You also understood Kara more than me! What would I have done if-?!”
“Guys, guys!” Junk interrupted. “Enough. What’s done is done. I also wish I’d tried to understand what Ze was going through. Kara wishes she was there to help him!”
“She wasn’t?” Skadj shouted in disbelief.
Junk eyed him for interrupting. “We have a new set of problems on our hands,” the Godfather announced to the room. “We need to find Ze, and we need to help Ozza with his new life. With the second matter,” he passed a necklace to Ozza that held a small crystal at the end. “You will talk with Kara about vampirism and its effects.
“As for the rest of us, get to looking! We need to find Ze before he finds himself in more trouble!”