"So…what happened to you last night?" Dahlia questions; she had mostly calmed down now. The only evidence left of her tearful breakdown was a bit of redness around her eyes. How exactly was he supposed to explain this? Oh yeah, I just got a bit roughed up by a vampire, really, just a normal Tuesday. But what else was there to say? It was the truth. So instead of an elaborate story, he just said one word filled with all the grievance he could muster.
"Vampires."
"Wait…I'm sorry, did you just say vampires?!" She squeaks. Leaning on the shop counter, he tiredly nodded into his hand.
"Oh, wow. It makes sense…I guess I'm just in disbelief. I mean, I was expecting some crazy illness, or maybe that the Night Merchant was some kind of murderer…but vampires. I should've known this horrible place would do something like that." She chuckles, though there's not much humor in it.
"I was attacked last night. My best guess is that the vampires need to be invited to get in. In order to circumvent that problem in case people start getting suspicious, the Night Merchant has people buy things. Bringing it into their home counts as an invitation of sorts. Of course, I could be wrong." He sighs; he can feel a budding headache from thinking about it for too long.
"So…what happened to Marcella and Joseph?" He asks tentatively. There was a little bit of guilt that sat like lead in his chest, but it's not like it was his fault they were dead.
"I don't know the details myself, but Cassidy saw them leave last night. Just a bit after you left, actually, she lives right next to Joseph. She almost went out to talk to them, but they left too quickly, so she never got the chance, and she was too scared to go after them. The poor thing was quite shaken up; she feels guilty." Dahlia shakes her head in dismay.
"Hm…oh! Before you go…." He kneels to the floor and brings up a handful of stakes. "I made quite a few of these. I don't need this many, so you can pass them around to the others, or keep them for yourself. I don't really care." Gasping in surprise, she grabs one to inspect.
"...This is fantastic! Thank you so much!" Her eyes light up, and she throws her arms around him, settling him into a hug. Hesitantly, he circles his arms around her, and when she pulls back, she continues to inspect the wooden stake.
"I'll make sure to hand these out to everyone, and, of course, tell them about the vampires." She adds, almost as an afterthought. It makes him chuckle slightly that vampires could be an afterthought.
"What! You can't blame me for being excited about using a wooden stake on a real-life vampire. This is the kind of stuff you only see in movies." She pouts.
"I didn't say anything!" He defends, putting his hands up in surrender.
"You laughed! I can tell what you were thinking." She feigns an angry expression for a moment before they both break down in laughter. It fades out just as quickly, though.
"I feel like I'm a horrible person, laughing and joking around like that when people are dead." Dahlia clutches the stake closer to her chest for comfort.
"...You're not a horrible person. There's nothing we can do about the already dead; the best thing we can do is focus on ourselves. It's better to stay positive than fall into a negative mindset and self-destruct." He tries to offer words of comfort. There's silence for a moment before she fixes him with a critical stare.
"...That feels rehearsed. How many people have you said that to?" She prods. A chuckle bursts out of him, and after a beat, she joins in as well.
"None. It's something my therapist told me, I don't know if it worked for me, but I thought it'd help." He reveals almost sheepishly.
"It kind of did, though more from the effort than the actual words," She adds.
"It's fine, they didn't work for me either," He waves her off.
"Right then," She inhales and scoops up the rest of the stakes, "I'll take these to the others and tell them about the vampires. We have a lot to talk about tonight." She exits the store, and he is once again left to his thoughts. What is he even supposed to do now? Continue working like nothing was wrong? What were they even supposed to do against vampires?!
He wasn't left alone for long, however, as in the middle of having a silent breakdown, someone entered the store. It was a bit of a surprise; not many customers had been coming in recently, and he'd only had one besides Dahlia come in that day. Despite the sure need for more coffins, it seems the villagers couldn't bring themselves to request more in the wake of this tragedy. However, he had made a few extras while he was lost in thought.
The person who had entered was an older gentleman; he had grey hair and a well-trimmed beard and mustache. He was wearing a plain white shirt with brown pants. Greeting him at the door, Gabriel waited patiently for him to speak. The person who had walked in seemed different from a regular villager, whether it was the way he carried himself or the serious expression on his face. It was best not to assume anything before being spoken to.
"I'm sure you've heard a little about the situation the village is currently dealing with." The man says, side-eyeing the coffins.
"A little," Gabriel confirms, waiting for the man to continue.
"There's going to be a meeting at the town hall later. I would normally ring the bell, but…" The man sighs, "There are some people I don't want joining us, so I've had to go door to door all day. Not good for an old man's bones." The man chuckles.
"What time is the meeting?" Gabriel inquires.
"Ah, should be just about sundown, let people have their supper in peace." The man says good-naturedly, "Well, it's about time I went. Have a good rest of your day. May the lord be with you in these trying times." Gabriel responded positively, but his mind began swirling as soon as the man had left.
The meeting was a sign that things had been at a standstill for too long. This village was caught in a bubble about to burst; anything could pop it, and when it did, they could only hope they were prepared. Leaning against the counter, he put his head in his hands, letting out a long sigh. Why did he agree to go to this meeting? That's all he'd been doing, meeting after meeting, with a small break for work and getting attacked by a vampire. Real fun time he'd been having lately. Though it'd be stupid to assume he'd get a break in the same kind of twisted game that threw honest-to-god vampires at a person.
The only thing left he could do was hope the villagers didn't exacerbate the problem. If they somehow found out about the vampires and started accusing each other…well, things would start going downhill real fast. Paranoia and suspicion would cause the villagers to doubt each other and eventually… well, there was no need to think about scenarios that might or might not happen.
It was already way past midday by the time he got his thoughts in order. He almost just went home, but instead, he used the time to make a few more stakes. By the time he returned home, he was starving, but upon opening the pantry, he was reminded of his lacking cooking skills, as well as the fact that the person who might be willing to cook him another meal was dead. Still…he had to eat to regain his strength, which means he'd be cooking himself a meal tonight.
The meal he made could not be called…appetizing. But it was still food, it was edible, and wouldn't kill him. He'd eaten worse before, so he wouldn't complain. The next thing he did was grab a broom and sweep up the ashes in the workroom.
Frowning down at the ashes, he thought back to the vampire from the night before. If there was a whole group of them out there, would they notice that one of their own hadn't come back? He had destroyed the statue, so they wouldn't be able to get in unless he invited them in, right? Or was it a one-and-done deal, and now they could enter whenever they wanted? If that was the case, would he even survive the night?
Ugh, why did things have to get so complicated?
Quelling the building frustration, he throws down the broom once he finishes and slumps into a chair, closes his eyes, and rubs his forehead, hoping to prevent the headache that was surely coming on. Unbidden, thoughts of alleyways and blood on concrete entered his thoughts. A few tears slipped down his cheek, but he wiped them away before they could continue to trail downward.