Sarain was surprised to find Nate so quickly, and she was amazed to find him alive. Most people who went missing in slums like these either turned up dead or didn’t turn up at all.
She watched as Nate walked up and exchanged words with a large man standing in front of the entrance. After a moment, the large man disappeared inside the club while Nate waited outside. Sarain refrained from approaching him, and felt it best to hold back in the shadows and see how things played out. Nate kept his back to her as he waited. She wondered if he could be waiting for drugs. Kit had never mentioned Nate having a drug habit, but she figured that drugs would be something that Nate would most likely not want to share with his younger brother. She observed that he remained motionless, his head stayed straight forward, and he didn’t seem interested in his surroundings. His behavior wasn’t that of a junkie, he should be fidgety. But why else would he abandon his only family for a place like this?
A few minutes went by with no change until the large man returned followed by a tall blond man. The blond man was well dressed with well kept chin length hair, his physical stature was toned, and Sarain got the impression that he was extremely into appearances. She also first and foremost noticed that the man was incredibly pale; this was something she watched out for in her line of work, however she couldn’t make assumptions.
The blond man dismissed the large man, who went back to his original position at the door. The blond man then led Nate aside where they had a conversion, but it was mostly one sided with the blond man doing the majority of the talking. Sarain was unable to make out what the men were saying; with the distance and the noise coming from the club, eaves dropping was out of the question. She did watch intently, searching for any other sign besides paleness that might point to the blond man being a vil sang. But most of the time vil sangs only showed their demonic features when they were enraged and this blond man was staying composed.
They finished talking and the blond man quickly headed back inside. Nate soon after started walking off in the opposite direction, keeping on a steady path once again. Sarain considered following the blond man into the club to get a better look, and then remembered Kit. She had made him a promise, and understood that finding out what was going on with Nate had to come first. Even if it meant letting a possible vil sang slip through her fingers. And if he had been a vil sang she was curious to what business he had with Nate. Perhaps she wouldn’t be bringing happy news to Kit after all. But this was taking place at a club, a public place, and a seedy crime-filled one at that; it was possible that everything could just be within regular human wickedness.
Sarain trailed after Nate, but kept distance between them. She wondered when she should approach him, and if she should do it in a populated area or not. Given the time, she was most likely not going to find a populated area. Probably for the best, because she knew what she might have to do. She thought about Kit at home waiting for her to return with information on his brother, and hoping that it would be good. She so wanted to be able to give him good news too; that’s why she wished she hadn’t gotten so involved in Kit’s problem. It was better for her to not feel compassion, it only made her weak.
Sarain continued to follow Nate for another two miles before he finally came to a stop. He stood there, back to her, perfectly still, and staring up. Sarain recognized where she was, they were standing outside in a back alley behind Kit’s apartment building. If Nate was a vil sang than he wouldn’t be able to go inside thanks to the ritual she had performed around the building, and his just standing there didn’t look good. She felt that now was the time to confront him. No one was around, and his journey had ended. She slowly approached him, but stopped short before getting too close.
“Nate,” she called out softly to him.
He swiftly turned around, but it seemed as though he was reacting more to the noise than to his name. He stared at her blankly like a deer in headlights, unmoving.
“Nate,” she called out again, “Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer; he just stood there like he was unable to communicate. Sarain had never seen this before, whether he was a junkie or a vil sang he should have responded. He could be confused, and maybe suffering from a concussion.
“Nate, I’m a friend of your brother, Kit. He’s been looking for you, he’s worried,” Sarain relayed, hoping to jog his memory.
“…Kit?” he repeated faintly.
“Yes, Kit, your brother,” she said again.
She took a step closer to Nate, almost within arm’s length, and then saw his eyes settle on her, but not her face. Was he looking at her neck, she quickly thought; no, he was staring at her necklace, her ankh cross.
Sarain gazed up into Nate’s eyes, and saw the glowing tinge she hoped not to see. He was a vil sang, and she only had one thing left she could do. Her hand went to her machete and as if reading her mind, Nate hissed and lunged at her with his fangs starting to descend. Even with his demon speed, Nate couldn’t out run Sarain; she rapidly dodged his attack, whipped out her blade, and lunged back at him full force. She felt her knife sink in, all the way to its hilt. A perfect hit directly to the heart.
The fire in Nate’s eyes soon faded, he fell to the ground, landing on his back. He stared up at the apartment building, his eyes settling on a window, possibly Kit’s. His eyes were just a normal brown now, and he looked like the guy in Kit’s photo. A tear ran down Nate’s cheek as his eyes glazed over.
It disturbed Sarain, how easy this all came to her. While Nate could only have been a newly born vil sang, it bothered her that her instincts were stronger than a beast’s. But what was more troubling, was the fact that this was what she worried about, and not the bearing of bad news to Kit. Perhaps she was more detached from her emotions than she had earlier thought.
Sarain gazed down at Nate’s lifeless body. If she hadn’t known better she would have thought she was looking down at the corpse of a human. She couldn’t fathom his bizarre behavior; why hadn’t he just attacked her from the beginning? And why did he not seem to remember Kit at all? Sarain only knew the basics about vil sangs, she didn’t know what went on in their heads, only that the demon blood inside made them turn blood thirsty and evil. But she had never seen a vil sang behave robotically before, and was curious to find out why.
Sarain stared up at Kit’s building. She would have to tell him the grave news soon, but first, she needed to find out what Nate had wanted from the pale blond man back at the club. And if he too was a vil sang like she had previously suspected.
It wasn’t long before Sarain was back in front of the club, The Purge. She watched from afar, debating if it would be best to just go right in; if she did, she could try to blend in, but there would be good odds that she’d be observed in whatever she did. She would have to be sneaky but come across casual in doing so. The large man was still guarding the door, and there was no way of seeing inside. The windows were all made with thick blurry tiled glass. Clubs were a popular place for vil sangs to inhabit, the drunken club-goers made easy targets; Sarain had tracked and killed many vil sangs from clubs. She didn’t much like going inside them though, far too crowded for her taste. But tonight she would have to if she wanted to find out what had happened to Nate. She made up her mind, she was going in.
Sarain walked out from the shadows, and headed towards the club entrance. She approached the large man who stared onward, and towered over her in both height and size. She peered up at him when he didn’t move or open the door.
“Are you going to let me in?” she asked straight forward and without politeness.
The large man glanced down at her and said, “No more entries tonight, we’re near closing.” He remained strong and steady, blocking the doorway.
Sarain sighed; she would apparently have no luck tonight. She turned around to leave and found the blond man standing in front of her. She didn’t flinch, yet it caught her off guard, and thought it odd that she had never heard him drawing near. He was indeed very pale up close, and even now looked quite polished. He stood there with a smile, and Sarain noticed that his eyes were an unusually bright shade of blue, but they didn’t glow; at least not at the moment.
“I see you finally decided to come in, too bad you’re too late; closing hour,” the blond man stated pompously.
“You were watching me?” Sarain asked with surprise.
“Well I saw you waiting there across the street looking toward the club. I didn’t realize it took so much thought into coming in,” he responded sounding smug.
Sarain’s blade flashed into her mind, but it was still too soon to tell. Besides, she couldn’t move on the man with his large guard so near.
“You probably should have come in earlier when you were watching me and my associate talk,” the blond man said casually.
Sarain felt her heart stop for a second; she had known that she hadn’t hidden well when she was contemplating going in the club, but she had been much further away and better concealed when she had observed him with Nate earlier.
“Are you alright? You look bewildered. I think it would be best for you to go home and get some rest,” he spoke condescendingly.
Sarain collected herself and shot back, “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
The man put his hands up as if to keep her at bay, and replied, “Just a simple suggestion,” then extended a hand out to her and said, “The name is Winston, by the way.”
Sarain simply stood there; she glanced at his hand, but made no attempt to shake it. Her expression was one that wasn’t amused.
Winston moved his hand back, but then gestured to her and asked, “And your name is?”
She didn’t reply, she only glared at him.
“Not very friendly, are you?” he remarked. His eyes then settled on her ankh. She noticed it too. She waited for a reaction, but he merely smiled, and said, “Nice necklace.”
The entrance to the club abruptly opened, and Sarain’s attention quickly went to behind her. The final club-goers were leaving, and were now crowding past her. She turned back toward Winston, but he was no longer there; he was nowhere in sight. She scanned the crowd with no luck; no sign of him. It looked like her new acquaintance hadn’t stayed to finish the conversation, and she still had questions that needed to be answered.