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[Raven]

The Plot
Things Not Seen

Wake up, eat breakfast, take a shower. These were the same steps she went through every morning. These were the steps she went through today. Except today, as she wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror after her shower, only the empty bathroom looked back at her, the towel wrapped around her body floating in mid air. Today, she was gone. Days passed, people knocked on the door, the landlord unlocked it for her worried friends to find an empty apartment with breakfast dishes still in the sink. After they reported her missing, the police tramped through her apartment and carted things out. "Evidence" they called it. As the months passed and nothing turned up, the landlord was forced to put the apartment on the market again. That's when he showed up. The deathly pale man that never asked what happened to her. He'd packed up her things and sent them off to storage. The food in the fridge had been tossed out, replaced by a mysterious red liquid she preferred not to name. He slept during the day and was out most the night, but always alone. And the creepiest part? She'd seen him in front of the bathroom mirror. He didn't have a reflection either. Her forced roommate, she feared, was a vampire.

Character the First
Things Not Seen

Let the Story Begin...
Things Not Seen

Monotony was the one word that could be used to describe Alice’s life. Each day was exactly the same as the day before. Wake up. Shower. Breakfast. Work. Home. Bed. Repeat. It was so predictable that Alice could get through her entire day blindfolded. Nothing ever broke up the endless repetition.

Her life had followed this pattern for almost two years. That was when she’d first moved to New York City. She’d left everyone she knew behind in hopes of moving to the big city and pursuing her dreams if becoming a published author. Instead, she’d ended up with nothing, but a dead end job at a trashy magazine as an assistant to an assistant. And despite her low position, she was over worked – which nicely complimented how underpaid she was – to the point where she’d never found the time to get out and explore the very city which she had chosen as her “home”, much less manage to meet many people outside of her work place to make close friends. She had two or three at best. As a result, the only thing that broke the routine was the once weekly call from her mother. Not that it impacted her day much considering she just let the call go directly to the machine, choosing to call her mother back only when she knew she wouldn’t be home so she didn’t ever really have to speak to her.

Unfortunately, this one particular morning broke the monotony of Alice’s life in a very unusual way. As she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, she approached her mirror and wiped the steam away. Since she was only half paying attention, it took her a second before she realised the only thing looking back at her in the mirror was the small, empty bathroom. Correction, the empty bathroom and a fluffy, powder blue towel that she’d only moments before wrapped around herself, now floating in mid air. She had no reflection. She was gone. Invisible.

Alice didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t be invisible. That wasn’t possible. Yet there she was, standing in her bathroom and dripping head to toe, yet no reflection was staring back at her. Confused, and now slightly lightheaded, Alice grabbed hold of the porcelain sink to try to keep steady, seeing as her legs had turned to jelly and didn’t seem like they could hold her weight. After a moment, Alice lifted the tap and turned it all the way to the right so that only cold water ran. She splashed it on her face, hoping that it would wake her up, since she was surely dreaming, but when she looked up at the mirror, she could still see nothing more than the empty washroom. It didn’t make sense, when she looked down at herself, there was her body, but when she tried to look at her reflection, nothing.

In some sort of farfetched hope that this was a bad practical joke, Alice rushed to her tiny, one person breakfast table where her laptop was sitting and whipped it open. She quickly turned on the webcam, hoping to justify that there was somehow a trick mirror in her washroom, only to find that the image the webcam displayed was that of her barren kitchen. No matter how absurd it was, no matter how impossible, no matter the cause, Alice was invisible and she couldn’t deny it. She was in such shock that she couldn’t even begin to think of why. She just was...

Alice stumbled out of her kitchen and to her bedroom. She threw herself down on the bed and tried to take in some deep breaths, hoping that if she calmed down, everything would go back to normal. Unfortunately, the wall mirror proved that Alice was having no such luck.

Trying to convince herself that she was dreaming, Alice decided that if she just put on her pyjamas and went back to bed, she would fall out of this most definite dreamland and wake up with everything back as it was. Quickly, she dried off her translucent body, got back into her pyjamas and laid down in bed. Her panic certainly didn’t make dropping off to sleep easy, but after a few hours of counting sheep, Alice’s eyelids became heavy.

After a short nap, Alice’s big almond shaped eyes fluttered open. With a wide smile on her face, happy to have finally woken up for real, she stretched her arms over her head and then glanced over at her mirror. That was when her jaw dropped. There was still no reflection. This couldn’t be happening. It was impossible to be invisible. Was she dead? Had the building caught fire? Or perhaps collapsed? And now she was stuck in shitty apartment limbo?! No, that didn’t make any sense. Not that being invisible made any more sense than being dead, but Alice wasn’t willing to accept that she’d hardly lived before having died.

Alice didn’t know what to do. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. If she’d just woken up a second time, she couldn’t be dreaming. It had to be real, even though it was impossible. So Alice did the only thing she could think of. She hung her head in her hands and cried. Cried and cried.

Days went by and nothing changed. Alice still couldn’t see her reflection. This made her fearful of going outside her apartment. The streets were always so busy. What if she bumped into someone? It was too weird. Instead, she sat around her apartment, mulling her situation over in her mind, hoping that it would eventually become clear. No answers ever came to her, though.

As days turned into weeks, Alice was beginning to build up anger. On top of the fact that she was invisible, her stockpile of food was slowly depleting. As a result of her fear of going outside, she was now stuck only eating canned food. To make matters worse, a couple of friends had stopped by to check in on her. Alice’s landlord had let them in, but she’d been too afraid of her current situation to make herself known to them. And by the end of the third week, the landlord was beginning to let any random person come into her apartment. It appeared as if he was looking to rent out her apartment with all her things. This just angered Alice even more, but honestly, what was she supposed to do?

[Millie]

Character the Second
Things Not Seen

Let the Story Begin...
Things Not Seen

Another dreary evening, another round of apartments to search through. That was one thing that seriously sucked about being immortal. If you stayed in one place for too long, people started to notice you didn’t age, and for one William Stewart, that point was quickly approaching. He’d spent the past three decades in the same apartment, greeting the same tenants morning after morning as he passed them on the stairs, them heading down to work, him heading up to bed. Thirty years of the same people, and even old Matilda was starting to notice his youthful looks for someone turning fifty-two in a two months. At least, that’s how old they all thought he was.

The landlord met him in the lobby, taking him up to the fifth floor and unlocking a creaky old door. “This is the place. Only room open in the building. Funny thing, the last tenant just vanished suddenly. NYPD released the place as a crime scene two weeks ago, but nobody wants to live where some young woman got kidnapped from. Who knows where she is now. Probably at the bottom of the Hudson.” Will paid little attention to the landlord’s brief history on the room. It mattered little to him what happened to the last tenant. If he bothered himself with the trivial drama of human mortality, he’d never have time for much else. Instead, he busied himself on looking around the apartment.

“Does it come furnished?” he asked smoothly as he crossed into the small kitchenette. The landlord only nodded and grunted in the affirmative. That was a minor drawback, but he supposed he could have the things packed up and shipped off to storage before he moved his own things in. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time. He had a habit of renting out apartments that had a bad rap. The one he was in now was inhabited by a man murdered by a rival gang over his breakfast; and before that a 1920s flapper woman raped and drowned in her own shower. A kidnapping was mild compared to his usual criteria, but he was getting desperate.

Wandering down the hall and into the bedroom, he inspected the closet only briefly before noting the mirror on the wall. He was careful to only cross it when the landlord wasn’t paying attention, still rambling on about the previous inhabitant. Will entered the bathroom, ignoring the mirrors behind him and studying the shower, finding it odd that there would be water in the drain when nobody had lived there for a month. He didn’t pay much mind; it simply could have been a leaking faucet.

The vampire returned to the bedroom, cutting off the landlord’s assumption that he was going to apologize and turn it down. “When can I move in?” The landlord stopped mid-word, staring at him like he had a suddenly sprouted six arms, each of which was a different color. The man stuttered as he replied, “Anytime, anytime! Let’s head down to my office. I’ll draw up the paperwork.”

The first half of the following week consisted of a steady stream of movers coming in and packing up almost everything the previous tenant had owned. Will allowed a few things to stay, a book here a knickknack there, but they were very few and far between. The remainder of the food had been thrown out when the rest of the kitchen had been packed up and moved out. The items had been placed into a storage unit, just as the remaining items of every apartment Will had ever moved into. By the end of the third day, the apartment was barren. That evening, he came in and inspected the walls and floor, checking for damage and stains, noting them briefly before leaving.

The fourth day was met with a painting and flooring crew. The painters followed the floor guys through every room, repainting each wall after the crew before them had replaced the carpet with hardwood floors in every room but the kitchen bathroom, which was a deep grey marble. That night, Will showed up once more, this time replacing the light fixtures to better suit his old-fashioned style. The fifth day marked the first move-in day, and the seventh was Will’s first day actually in the apartment, an apartment that looked nothing like the one he had originally rented out.

The walls were now deep, dark earth tones which punctuated the brand-new wood floors. The woodwork in both the kitchen and bathroom had been completely replaced, and the countertops matched the deep grey marble floors. The light fixtures looked like something from the 20s or 30s, and the light they cast was dim and dank. The window treatments had been replaced by black-out shades; the only light that came through them was over the tops, casting a glow on the ceiling. The bedroom had been simply put together: the bed between the bathroom and closet doors, the opposite wall adorned with paintings and photos dating back to the 1800s easy. The only other items in the room were the dresser near the bedroom door and the rocking chair in the corner. The living room walls were now lined with book cases- upon further inspection of which would reveal a whole shelf of books written by William Stewart himself, a desk with a typewriter pushed against the wall between them. There was a older couch and two arm chairs in the room as well, along with a large floor rug and an oval coffee table. The most modern room in the house was the kitchen, every appliance shiny and new. The refrigerator? Stocked with blood from the butcher.

And not one morsel of food to be found in the entire apartment.

The following week after Will moved in was very methodical as he adapted to living in a new building once more. He slept during the day, and the evenings he didn’t go out were spent at his typewriter. The only phone in the apartment was his cell phone, which usually woke up him twice a day with endless phone calls from someone known only as “Marsha”. At one point he had simply answered the phone and growled, “I don’t care what you have to say about Monmouth. That’s how it happened. You’re not changing a word.” before hanging up the phone, rolling over, and going back to sleep.

It was the fourth night in the apartment, and Will was once again hermiting himself away behind his typewriter, furiously working through page after page of what one could only assume to be a book of some sort. A coffee mug half full of that red liquid in the fridge sat on the desk just out of arm’s reach so as not to get knocked over in some sudden flurry of inspiration. The grandfather clock on the other side of the living room, whose chimes had gone unnoticed until now, had just struck eight. The vampire pulled his eyes up from his work and glanced over at the top of the window. Indeed, the glow of the sun now appeared on the ceiling. A heavy sigh passed his lips as he gazed between the page he was typing and the stack of pages he’d already finished resting on the corner of his desk. “Almost done…” he muttered to himself, “Won’t hurt to finish. I’m sure Marsha’s itching for something new to edit…” Chuckling at the thought of the woman’s face turning red as he handed her his third book in the past two months- she was still on the first –was enough to keep him going. Focusing once more, the steady click of typewriter keys once more filled the otherwise silent apartment.

[Raven]

[OoC: I didn't know if I needed to add the template again, but I doubted it. If I'm wrong, I'm sure you'll fix it, ahaha. And sorry for getting carried away...]

As weeks went on, Alice, as was expected, went through the five phases of grief. Could anything be more cliché? For days, though she could blatantly see it, she was in denial of her ability, or more accurately described as curse. She cried all day every day, but each morning she’d get up and go about her routine as if she were still visible, probably out of sheer desperation, only to be told by the mirror that she wasn’t. This would once again trigger a full day of tears before she attempted the same thing again.

After five days, anger took over. Of all people in the world, how was it that she was the one chosen to deal with this unusual, unforeseeable, and unexplainable situation? Alice paced back and forth her apartment thinking about what to do, as her feelings of rage stirred inside, and then like a steaming kettle boiled up inside until she burst. Alice lost control. She swung at that which was closest to her, which happened to be a large metal book shelf which housed her massive collection, knocking all the books to the ground. But it wasn’t going to end there. She stormed through the kitchen, sending small appliances, some dirty dishes, and the bowl of soggy corn flakes she’d poured herself hours before, but never even attempted to ear all over the floor. Some of the plates shattered, and milk ran everywhere. Alice then turned to the kitchen table and flipped it, completely disregarding that her laptop was still rested on top. From there, she went back into the living room, tore the cushions from the sofa and overturned the coffee table. She then stormed to her bedroom, knocking anything down that she went passed. Once there, she swiped her arm across her vanity, pushing everything on it to the floor. Small perfume bottles smashed as they hit the floor, and make up compacts rolled everywhere. Alice then turned to the bed and with one swift motion, flipped her mattress. And with that, she dropped to the floor, in a sad and sorry heap, sobbing.

Sitting there on the floor, Alice begged. She begged to every higher power she could think of. Even some she’d only heard of in passing, but didn’t know anything about. She was desperate and, at this point, would give anything to return to her shitty job and small, yet wonderfully normal, existence. That was the farthest thing from an option for her now. As she sobbed, her phone rang for what had been at least the 13th time that day. Now that it had been almost a week, she’d been receiving phone calls nonstop from her work. She’d even received a few from her friends and the expected one from her mother. Alice considered calling them all back, but thought against it. They’d all want to know where she’d been and why she hadn’t returned any of the calls. They would likely try to come and see her, but obviously, they wouldn’t be able to. Alice wasn’t ready to have anyone find out about her problem. She didn’t think she ever would be. She couldn’t possibly let anyone know. She’d be a freak. Instead, she just ignored every phone call.

At that precise moment, however, Alice regretted not having answered the calls for so long... There were loud bangs at her front door. Before she could even get up to contemplate opening it, she heard another loud bang on the door followed by the distinct sound of splintering wood. Alice quickly got to her feet and ran to the door. Standing in her living room, guns pointed, were half a dozen police officers. Before she could process what was going on, they were on their radios indicating there was sign of a struggle. Looking around her apartment with a clear mind for the first time since her episode, Alice would understand why they’d think that. She slowly stepped backward until her back was against the wall. She slowly slid down it as she watched the officers sorted through the mess. She considered stopping them, but what would that do for her? Absolutely nothing! It would only expose her misfortune. The best possible situation at that point would be her locked up in some sort of institution as she was studied in top secret. Instead, Alice sat there on the floor, feeling defeated and watched as her belongings, being referred to now as “evidence”, being carried out of her apartment.

After six hours of watching her privacy being invaded and unable to do anything about it, the last of the officers left for the evening. Most of the things that mattered to Alice had been taken away, but many things remained. Still, it didn’t make Alice feel any less violated. And that was when stage four set in for Alice: depression. All hope was gone now that people thought she was missing. Though, Alice figured it hardly mattered anyway since she probably wouldn’t ever be visible again. This was her reality now. And with that thought in her mind, Alice reached for the blanket that lay strewn on the floor as a result of her outburst, covered herself with it, and fell asleep there on the cold, hard floor.

For the days that followed, Alice apathetically sat back and watched as investigators came and went. She’d realised that there was nothing that could come of caring what happened now, so it was useless to bother. Only thing to do was stay out of anyone’s way and wait until they stopped showing up. And eventually, they did just that. One day, no one came into her home. The day that followed was the same. As was the day after that. For a week, no one came. Alice didn’t know what to expect next.

As Alice sat on her kitchen counter one afternoon, scrapping the last few cold baked beans from the bottom of their can, she heard the clicking noise made by the lock on the door. She leaned forward to get a view of the front door. In came someone she didn’t expect. It was her short landlord, best described as lumpy, and he was followed by a small Hispanic woman carrying a basket of cleaning supplies and a vacuum. She set her things down and looked around the room. As she did so, Alice’s landlord explained to the woman how he needing everything clean and tidy by the end of the day because he had potential tenants coming in to have a look at the place in the morning. The woman nodded and began hurrying around the room getting everything into place so she could begin cleaning. The lumpy landlord huffed and walked out of the apartment.

Still sitting on the countertop, Alice’s jaw hung open as she stared at the woman in disbelief. People were going to come and view her apartment? It was going to be rented out? What was she going to do? Where was she going to go? Her home was the only thing she had left and she was about to lose that, too.

In the weeks that followed, Alice had acquired a new routine, much simpler than her old one. She’d wake up, eat nothing aside from canned food since that was all that was left, and watch as prospective tenants came into her apartment. Many people seemed interested in her apartment, but as soon as they found out the previous tenant had been “kidnapped” from it, they quickly tried to get out as quickly as possible. This kept Alice hopeful that she’d be able to keep her apartment to herself. At least she wouldn’t have to pay rent anymore.

After almost two weeks worth of viewings, still no interest in her old place. In a way, Alice was sort of thankful that she’d unintentionally set up her own kidnapping because it certainly repelled anyone interested in moving in. That was why, when Alice’s landlord came in one evening with a new prospect, Alice wasn’t worried. She just made sure to stay out of their way, but didn’t take much interest in what was going on since they’d be leaving momentarily anyway. Suddenly, Alice heard what sounded like the desire to move into her apartment, and a lump formed in her throat. She quickly jumped up and hurried to eavesdrop on what was going on. It only confirmed the worst. Someone had just agreed to rent out her place.

What happened next left Alice feeling dizzy. Before she could figure out what was going on, her things were being packed up and sent away, the floors were changed, new paint, new fixtures... The list went on and Alice couldn’t keep track. She didn’t know what to do, whether to try to get someone’s attention or not. Within less than a week, but certainly felt like shorter, the whole apartment had been transformed. Despite a few bits and bobs that the new tenant chose to keep, there were no signs of the place she’d once called home. Everything had changed. And after just the first day, the remained of Alice’s food had been thrown out. To her luck, however, the reno crews that came in all kept their lunches fresh in the fridge. When Alice was sure they were all engrossed in their work, she’d swipe someone’s lunch. Not only did it get her fed, but it also provided some mildly amusing entertainment since the crew were constantly harping on each other, asking who stole their lunch.

By the end of the second week, the new tenant moved in. Alice was so distraught by the whole situation that she hardly paid him any mind. That is, she didn’t pay him any mind until she went into the fridge when he wasn’t home, hoping to sneak something to eat, only to find unlabelled red liquids in the fridge. Alice sorted through the new appliance, all the way to the back, but could find nothing else aside from this red liquid. It gave her the creeps and she was too afraid to even try to figure out what it was. She just closed the fridge, her back pressed against the cold stainless steel, her whole body filled with panic. What was she going to do? She couldn’t go out in her current state...

After this red liquid incident, Alice began to pay more attention to the new tenant. She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed before, but he had a very strange sleeping routine. He seemed to sleep all day long. At night, he’d either go out, and always return before morning, or sit in at his type writer. He never deviated from his regime. There was something incredible strange about this man.

After about four days, Alice was beginning to lose her nerve. She was absolutely starving, having not eaten in quite a while. Instead, she just drank water to try and hold back the hunger pangs. Bitter and incredibly confused, Alice sat on one of the two new arm chairs in the apartment, just watching as the invader in her apartment was hunched over his typewriter. It sickened her just sitting there, seeing him getting all at home in what was once her living room, though you’d never know it was unless you’d watched it transform just as Alice had. Eventually, she’d had enough. Alice stood, just as the grandfather clock chimed to indicate 8 o’clock in the morning, and crossed the living room so she could go and sit in the kitchen. It may not have been as comfortable, but at least she wouldn’t have to see the unwelcome man anymore.

As she walked away, Alice raised her hand without thinking twice about it and hit the mug that was on the man’s desk. She watched as it tipped over onto its side, spilling its red contents all over the stack of finished pages, drenching every single sheet.

“Who uses a type writer these days anyway...” Alice commented under her breath, a smirk forming on her lips. It was the first time she’d spoken aloud or the first time in weeks. She wasn’t worried, though, since she’d spoken far too quietly for any human ear to hear.

[Millie]

Suddenly, the steady click-clack of typewriter keys ceased. The last word had been typed on the last page, the last period ended the last sentence. Will was done with his third book in just as many months. It was the writer’s groove that, once you got into, you had to ride (or write, rather) out ‘til the finish. The sort of groove that left your entire being buzzing for that high only writing could ever bring. There was so much to tell the world, so much information to relay, so many stories to be told. They flowed like wine from an eternal bottle.

Sitting back in his chair, he pulled the last page out of the typewriter and looked it over, satisfied. As elated as he was to be done with the book, he was even more excited to see the expression on Martha’s face when she was handed the transcript. It was sure to be classic. Unfortunately, that was unlikely to happen any time soon. In the midst of his thoughts, the mug of blood tipped over, seemingly on its own, the crimson liquid flowing aimlessly across the desk. Will looked up just in time to see the flow reaching the freshly-typed transcript.

He darted forward, snatching up the papers faster than any human ever could have, but it was for not. The papers were, for the most part, soaked. Swearing and setting them aside for now, he grabbed the mug and stood, heading toward the kitchen for a towel. It was only then that he began to wonder exactly what had just happened. He certainly hadn’t knocked over the mug, and he was the only creature in the apartment. But mugs didn’t just throw themselves on their sides. Someone had to have knocked it over.

Her words met his ears as he was placing the mug in the sink. ‘ Who uses a type writer these days anyway…’ A single question voiced from lips that couldn’t be seen. Will’s stomach dropped to his feet, his hands resting on the edge of the sink, a stream of swears in about five or six different languages spilling from his lips before finally, “Of course. The one time I don’t hire a psychic to check for a ghost…” Shaking his head, he leaned over and pulled open one of the drawers, grabbing a red towel and heading back to the living room.

A sigh passed his lips as he began soaking up the blood from the desk and floor. “Look. I get that you’re dead. Believe me, I do.” Did he ever. There were days where being an immortal undead vampire had its perks, sure, but there were also days where he would have given anything to be human again. To be able to go out in the day, eat real food. “But trust me on this one. Move on while you can. There’s nothing here for you anymore. The longer you stick around, the harder it’s going to get, until you won’t even know why you’re still here.” He straightened up, satisfied with the mop-job he’d done with the towel. Nothing would stain, he chose furniture with blood spills in mind, picking only woods that would hide the stain. Shaking his head, he eyed the bloodied transcript with disdain. “This is why I hire psychics. What the hell was I thinking?”

[Raven]

Alice stood there, completely stunned, the smirk wiped off her face after having witnessed the man dash for his stack of papers. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before. That speed... How could anyone move that fast? It was impossible. Indescribable even! There weren’t words for such super human speed. He’d almost looked like a blur. No, that couldn’t have been it. Alice must have been dreaming. It was 8AM and she hadn’t slept, after all. Her whole sleeping pattern was thrown off by her new “roommate”. What she’d seen had no doubt been some sort of delusion as a result of her lack of sleep.

Bringing her train of thought back to the situation at hand, the smirk returned to her lips as she happily realised that she’d ruined practically the entire stack of, well, whatever the man had been working on. She giggled softly as he cursed, crossing her arms smugly in front of her chest. He’d gotten exactly what he deserved. Not just for keeping her awake, but for everything! For stocking the fridge with whatever that disgusting looking red liquid was, for renting out her apartment, for completely overhauling the place, and especially for getting rid of all of her belongings. It felt good to get him back for what he’d done. Especially considering it was by destroying something he obviously cared about – or at least Alice assumed he did since he’d spent many nights working on it – just like her home and belongings had been something she’d cared about before he’d ruined them.

Watching contently as the man went to the kitchen for something to clean up the mess with; Alice decided to stay standing in the living room. It could be fun to annoy him for a little while. But then she heard him mutter some unfamiliar words. She wasn’t sure what they meant, but she didn’t have a clue what language it was. It most certainly wasn’t English, though. That intrigued her. There was more to this strange man than there appeared. Then, if strange tongues weren’t unusual enough, the man began speaking out loud in English about ghosts. Did he assume she was a ghost? That was a laugh. Alice figured he was perhaps having a joke out loud with himself or some strange thing like that, but then he continued talking out loud as though he truly believe a ghost was there.

After listening to the man carry on about ghosts and psychics, Alice rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. She couldn’t believe he was serious. Then again, considering her current situation, it wasn’t as though ghosts and psychics could be that farfetched. She shook her head at him began walking off towards the bedroom.

“Move on, eh? Easy for you to say, you superstitious bastard. I haven’t got anywhere to go. And you’re right, there isn’t anything left for me here. And it’s all because you threw out all my food and moved out all my furniture,” Alice said quietly to herself in a mock response, wishing deep down that she was able to actually say it loud enough for him to hear, “And I’m fucking starving, but all that is left is your weird red shit. Now stop rambling on about psychics ‘cause I’m not dead and get out.”

[Millie]

Will returned to the kitchen, turning on the cold water and rinsing the blood out of the towel as the supposed ghost continued to speak. Why did he never get saddled with the quiet the ones? The ones that just banged against the walls in the middle of the night moaning and groaning and rattling their chains? Every ghost he’d ever encountered had always been the mouthy type, and it only got worse once they figured out he could actually hear them. It usually got to the point where he’d have to call someone to exorcise the ghost. The one time that hadn’t worked, he’d simply ended up moving again. Of course, he hadn’t had much choice; the house hadn’t been too incredibly inhabitable once the procedure had failed.

He didn’t even try to hold back a laugh at her cliché final words. Get out. That was the best she could do? Why did they always go for that one first, as though it would actually change the predicament they were in? “Look, you’re in denial, I get it. I’m sorry some sick bastard kidnapped you, but you’re dead. Go take a look in the mirror if you don’t believe me. You don’t have a reflection when you’re dead.” As he rang out the towel one final time before noticing the water was running clear, he crossed back to the living room once more and wiped the spill spot again.

“I didn’t get rid of your things, I moved them to storage. Packed away safe and sound, because you’re dead and I have no use for women’s clothing. If it’s really that much of an issue, I’d be glad to give you the address to the unit so you can just flash yourself there and haunt your worldly belongings.” Satisfied once more with the clean floor, Will stood and headed down the hall toward the bathroom. Tossing the towel into the laundry hamper, he pulled closed the shower curtain and turned on the water as hot as it would go. “As for being hungry, think of it as losing a limb.” He didn’t bother to close the bathroom door and he started to strip for his shower. “Ghosts don’t eat, sorry to say, but the echo of your hunger’s still there.” He paused just long enough to retrieve a clean towel from the linen closet and hang it up. “Give it time, it’ll fade.”

During the time he spent in the bathroom, he passed the mirror countless times, and not once did a reflection ever appear in the mirror. Only once did he pause long enough to gaze into the looking glass at the empty room behind him. Dead things really didn’t have reflections. Turning, he pushed the curtain out of his way and stepped into the shower.

[Raven]

Alice came to a halt half way down the hall when she heard the man respond to her. How could he have heard what she’d said? It had been quieter than a whisper. And she was on the complete opposite side of the apartment. Even if he happened to have excellent hearing, he may have heard a murmur, but there was no way he would have been able to make out the actual words. Something wasn’t right about this.

She pivoted on the balls of her feet and began slowly making her way back to the living room. Alice suddenly became very uneasy about this whole situation so she made sure to get no closer than several feet from the man. She also chose to stand behind one of the arm chairs. It wasn’t as though he could see her to harm her, but it was instinctual to find some sort of barrier to put between them, even if it was a mildly useless one.

“I’m not in denial,” Alice snapped back, suddenly feeling a little bold, “And I wasn’t kidnapped. Don’t you dare condescend me like that. I’m nowhere near dead. Though, I might be soon if you don’t learn to stock normal food here.”
As the man spoke, Alice grew slightly annoyed. He seemed adamant that she was dead. What did he know about the difference between life and death? And who was he to tell her she was dead? There was no way she could be dead and Alice knew it. If she were dead, then whenever she tried to eat the food would fall right through her and onto the floor. And that thought was what gave her an idea, but before she could execute it, he’d made his way into the bathroom.

Regardless of the fact that he didn’t seem interested, she took a few steps towards the bathroom so she could ensure she would make herself heard since the man had turned on the shower. As she approached, she caught a glimpse of his almost fully undressed body. Alice couldn’t help, but be stunned for a moment by his incredibly toned physique. When she realised what she was doing, she remained standing there, but turned her gaze away and held a hand above her eye to obscure her view if she were to ever be tempted.
“I can prove to you I’m not a ghost. You just wait and see,” Alice shouted to him, leaning against the wall just outside the washroom, “And as for my clothes, I would appreciate if at the very least you would bring those back seeing as I’ve been wearing the same thing for weeks and it is becoming rather annoying having to wait until no one is home so I can wash them.”


Alice stood there for what was probably around ten minutes. Finally, she heard the shower turn off. When her new roommate emerged from the bathroom, she rushed to the kitchen. Alice then quickly reached up on the tips of her toes, as she always had too since she was rather petite, to one of the shelves and pulled down a small glass. She then pulled open the fridge door with the other hand and reached inside. Grabbing anyone of the random containers, she opened it up and poured the thick, cold liquid into the glass. Without hesitation, Alice brought the glass to her lips and chugged back nearly half of its contents before the signal from her taste buds reached her brain. The millisecond it did, she spat what was in her mouth out onto the floor, spraying the liquid everywhere. It was slimy and had an awful metallic taste. Sort of like... iron. Alice then brought the glass up and sniffed it. It also smelled of iron. The taste was bad, yet familiar. She couldn’t quite peg it.

“Oh, God... What on earth is this shit you drink obsessively?” Alice shouted at him, dribbles of it running down her invisible chin, causing the faint outline of her jaw to become visible for a moment before she grabbed one of the red hand towels off the counter and wiped the substance away, “Whatever it is, get rid of it because it’s either disgusting or out of date.”

Alice then set the glass in the sink and wiped the rest of the red liquid off of her mouth, chin, and forearms before realising she’d yet failed to make a point.

“Oh, yeah... Right. So, Mr. Ghost Expert, please enlighten me... Can ghosts do that or would your crappy protein shake just fall through my insides and out onto the floor? Huh? Please, tell me.”

[Millie]

Hand slipping out of the curtain and groping for the towel, he snagged it and wrapped it around his lower half. His flesh was red from the scalding temperature of the shower, but he paid it hardly any mind. Pulling on a fresh pair of boxers, he followed her voice back to the living room as he rubbed the towel over his hair briefly. Slinging the cloth over his shoulder, he sighed and crossed his arms. “Alright. Prove to me you aren’t dead.” Hearing the glass in the kitchen moving from the shelf, he followed the sound, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms in amusement.

His eyes followed the moving objects, watching the floating container of blood apprehensively. “Haven’t you shed enough blood for one night?” he asked her as the lid of the container floated to the counter. It wasn’t until she lifted the full mug to what he assumed to be her lips that he started moving. “I wouldn’t do that if I were—” He didn’t have a chance to finish, watching in amazement as the blood ran out of the cup and disappeared. It was about that point that she realized exactly what she was drinking. Will again didn’t bother to suppress laughter at her reaction. “I tried to warn you.”

That was about the extent of his “I told you so” as he was soon distracted by the now-visible outline of her jaw as the blood ran down her chin. No, he had to admit she was quite correct in the fact that she wasn’t a ghost. But if not a ghost, what was she? In his centuries of existence, he’d never come across an invisible person before. Surely it wasn’t as simple as that, and if it was, what caused it.

When she finally recovered enough to speak again, he had moved behind her, his eyes focused on the floating towel. “You were right. You’re not a ghost and you’re certainly not dead.” He didn’t give her time to react, his arms wrapping tightly, successfully around where she was standing, one around her waist to hold her steady while the other clasped her neck. His fingers pressed up almost under her jaw; they weren’t tight enough to choke her, just enough so for him to feel the pulse of her heart under his fingertips. Satisfied, he released her and took a step back, adding, “Incredible. I’ve heard stories this was possible, but I never actually thought…”

He shook his head, snatching the towel from her hand and using it to mop up the blood she’d spewed everywhere. “Tell me. Did you just wake up one morning invisible? Or was it something you chose to do?” He didn’t need to clarify that she didn’t know how to reverse it; that much was obvious. Why else had she been hiding in her apartment for weeks on end when everyone that knew her had been searching high and low for any sign of her existence? While he waited for an answer, he tossed the blood-soaked towel in the sink and replaced the lid on the container. Holding it up, he briefly clarified, “By the way? Not a protein shake.” Before returning it to its place in the fridge.

[Raven]

Alice had been so distracted chocking on the cold slime that now lined the inside of her mouth and throat that she hadn’t noticed the man come up behind her. Before she knew what was going on, he’d grabbed hold of her waist with one arm and her throat with the other. The second he touched her, she felt a cold shiver run through her whole body. His skin on hers felt strange somehow. Very cool, though not exactly cold. Different somehow. That thought didn’t remain in her mind long, though, because she was much more preoccupied with his grip around her throat and the panic that it caused her.

As she tried to wiggle free, Alice found that his grip was solid, like stone. No matter how much she moved, it never caused him to loosen his grip. He didn’t even have to move around to keep hold of her. Regardless of her attempts, she didn’t seem to make him even have to flex a muscle.

When the man finally released her, she fell away from him and landed on the ground as reached up to her throat. He hadn’t chocked her, but it had been no gentle hold. His grip had been firm and strong, causing her neck to feel a bit tender. Sore, even. Alice didn’t make a move for several moments. She just stared up at him as he carried on cleaning up the mess she’d made as though this invisibility thing wasn’t completely and shockingly impossible.

“Uh, well, I... Uh, I...” Alice stammered, totally confused as to how he was so calm about this, “I-I don’t know. I got up and got ready for work. I didn’t notice anything until I got out of the shower and looked in the mirror. I-I was just gone.”

Alice swallowed hard and slowly tried to get to her feet. Even at her best, she would have been shaken by what just happened, but lack of food certainly didn’t help the situation. She struggled trying to stand, and fell, making a soft thud on the hard wood floor, before she’d managed to even get part way. After that, she just remained seated. Trying to stand would be a useless effort. Alice was far too fixated on the man that was stood before her.

As she watched him get the kitchen back into shape, Alice noticed something very peculiar. No matter where he went in the kitchen, none of the shiney new stainless steel appliances gave even the faintest, blurriest reflection of him. This triggered something in her mind. Something he’d said less than thirty minutes prior. ‘You don’t have a reflection when you’re dead.’ With that thought, her mind raced as she compiled all the strange things that had occurred ever since the man had moved in. Black-out shades; sleeping all day long; incredible speed, strength and hearing; red, awful liquid in the fridge; his lack of a reflection. Common sense told her otherwise, but since Alice discredited all common sense now that she was invisible, there was only one explanation.

“You’re... You’re... A vampire.” Alice finally said after a long moment of silence before quickly trying to crawl backwards using her now sweaty palms and the heels of her feet.

[Millie]

Will was now standing at the sink, rinsing blood from a towel for the second time that evening. If he would have known this much of his back-up supply of blood would be wasted just by living here, he probably would have chosen another place to live. It was too late now; he’d already shelled the money into renovating the place. It was just going to have to work. Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t have an entire fridge full of the stuff.

Now that he was aware of her presence in the apartment, it was excruciatingly easy for him to pinpoint her location simply by listening for her heartbeat. Before now, it had merely blended in with the pulses of every other human in the building around him; now, it was like a beacon whose only purpose was giving her away… or perhaps preventing awkward hallway collisions. Either way, he heard her on the floor trying to stand up again before promptly succumbing to gravity once more. It was only then that he started to wonder just long it had been since she’d ate, figuring it to be somewhere between a handful of days and a few weeks, assuming she’d never once left the confines of the apartment.

He couldn’t help but chuckle softly at her conclusion. She was right, of course, but even after two and a half centuries it still sounded ludicrous to his ears every now and then. “Yes,” he stated simply, reaching for another glass and filling this one with water. “And you’re invisible. Anything else you’d like to point out while we’re being obvious?” He turned, holding the glass down about a foot away from the origin of her beating heart. “Drink. You need to dilute whatever blood you consumed. You don’t want lead poisoning, do you? And you’re much more susceptible on an empty stomach.”

Once she’d taken the glass, she moved to the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the counter. His eyes focused on the glass that appeared to be floating in mid-air. “Which also means that if you really want your clothes back, you’re going to have to wait until this evening. And yes, before you ask, I’ll grab you something to eat.”

[Raven]

Alice just stared up at him, blinking quickly multiple times. How could vampires possibly be real? They couldn’t be. It was just stories. Fantasy. Yet there he was, standing in her apartment unspooked by anything that was going on, living off of blood he kept in his fridge. Then again, nothing was really impossible anymore. Alice should have come to terms with that weeks ago. Still, that didn’t make the idea of a vampire in her apartment any easier to deal with.

As the vampire held a glass of water down to her, Alice did nothing aside from watch him carefully. There was nothing threatening about his gesture, but this all was so odd. Not only was he not human, but he was being quite nice to her. He’d even laughed and cracked a bit of a joke. After a moment, Alice had fully digested what he was saying. His words made her once again aware of the metallic taste in her mouth which she had been momentarily distracted from.

“Uh, no...” Alice replied, reaching for the glass with a shakey hand.

Almost immediately, the transparent girl downed the entire glass of water. It felt so good to clean her mouth of the dreadful taste. There were still hints of iron on her tongue, but she knew it would be a little before it faded away. Blood had so strong of a taste that no amount of water would get rid of the taste immediately. Still, that didn’t stop her from holding her glass up in a silent request for more water.

After he finished speaking, Alice nodded, not quite thinking about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to see this gesture. Once she received a second glass from him, she downed it just as quickly as the first before trying her best to stand up again. Though she was still feeling weak, she managed to pull herself together and get on her two feet. Carefully placing the glass down on the counter, Alice looked up at him again, still unsure of this whole situation.

“Thank you,” she said softly, “But why are you being so nice to me?”

[Millie]

Taking the floating glass from her invisible hands, Will refilled it and handed it back to her. If she wasn’t eating, she at least needed to stay hydrated. Water was the only thing keeping her alive right now. He watched as the second glass disappeared as she drank before she got to her feet and put down the glass. His eyes reverted to focusing on her beating heart, but he was sure it probably came across as looking through her instead. It wasn’t his fault she was invisible.

Will nodded briefly at her thanks, contemplating her question. Shrugging, he replied, “I sort of know what it feels like to just disappear one day.” It was true. He’d been on his deathbed when the vampire that turned him had found him; he’d woken up to find himself in the hull of a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean on their way to England. Dead to the world. The next ten years of his life had been spent learning the ropes of being what he was, avoiding contact with people except in controlled situations. For all intents and purposes, he had simply disappeared.

“Is there anything else you would like to ask? Questions? Comments? Concerns? You know… other than why I haven’t killed you yet?” he asked, realizing for the first time that the entire time they’d been in the kitchen, he’d been in nothing by his boxers. He picked the bath towel up from the floor, hanging it around his neck on his shoulders. In the living room, the clock was striking nine in the morning. His eyelids were starting to grow heavy as he began to yearn for the coma his days usually brought him.

[Raven]

Alice thought over his answer. It didn’t tell her much, but she considered what it could mean. She imagined that it couldn’t have been a very good story, likely revolving around how he’d become what he was. Of course, the reality of a vampire could be completely different from what it was in the movies, but, like in the movies, Alice couldn’t have imagined it as being a very easy transition. He’d no doubt have gone from a normal life one day, to a secret one the next. She was tempted to ask him to elaborate on what exactly he meant, since she was incredibly curious, but figured it was too early to ask that.

“Well, like you said, why you haven’t killed me is certainly at the top of my list. Do you even have an answer for that?” Alice asked, after a moment of considering all the possible questions she could ask, “But other than that, your name would be nice...”

Though it wouldn’t particularly help her understand the current situation, once Alice realised that she still didn’t know the name of the individual who was living in her apartment, she was very curious to know. Plus, it was a little strange being stuck living with someone whose name you didn’t even know. If she knew his name, perhaps they could try to push past how awkward this whole situation was. But with that thought, Alice realised that it only mattered if they were actually going to live together. Now that he knew she existed, he could easily kick her out.

“Um... You’re not going to eventually get me to leave, are you?” she inquired, hopeful that she wouldn’t ever need to go out in her current condition.

As Alice waited for the vampire’s response, she took a moment to study the man that stood before her. She’d been so bitter that he had taken over her home that she’d paid little attention to anything specific about him. Considering his current state of undress, however, it was difficult to take note of anything aside from his good physique and piercing eyes. And as she got lost examining his super human form, Alice realised that he was looking incredibly worn down. Just as she thought this, the grandfather clock began to chime. It was now nine in the morning. That was far too late for a vampire, even one with fancy window covers.

“Don’t mind me, you know. Feel free to go to sleep. I can see you’re exhausted,” Alice said to him, hoping to come off as sincere as was possible at this point as she made her way over to the sofa and sat down, “I need to get to sleep soon, anyway. The sleeping pattern you’ve imposed upon me has messed me up pretty badly so I’m just going to lay down here and get some rest, too.”

[Millie]

The vampire ignored her first question, figuring the answer was rather obvious. He had only found out she was even here about half an hour ago. Sure, he could have easily killed her in that time, but what was the fun in that? Instead, he skipped to her second question. “William Stewart. Will. And yours?” If he was going to have an invisible woman wandering around in his apartment, he needed to know what to call her. It wasn’t just a question asked for the sake of being polite, after all. He nodded after she answered. “Well, you’ve certainly fallen down the rabbit hole this time, haven’t you, Alice?” Inappropriate for the situation, he was sure, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. “Wonderland doesn’t seem to be agreeing with you just yet…” Perhaps he’d be able to repair that, not repair in the sense of making her visible again, but in the sense of making life invisible more bearable.

Another chuckle passed his lips at her next question. “Make you leave? Tell me, if I kicked you through that door right now, where on earth would you go? I mean… figuratively speaking. Literally, being invisible, your possibilities are endless. Do you have a favorite sports team? Nobody will notice if you watch the game courtside. Favorite band? Have fun backstage, just be sure to not knock anything over.” He grinned a moment, allowing the words to sink in, hoping to lighten her mood. “But no. In all technicality of world, this is still your apartment. You never left.” He had to admit, living with a human would be interesting, trying at times, difficult even… but interesting. There were certain parts of his routine he’d have to rethink; for example, he wouldn’t be able to bring a woman home for a quick one before killing her and carting out the body. Not that he’d ever done that, of course…

Will’s brows furrowed as she realized what time it was, going on about sleep. Sleep. That was another problem with living with a human. They were diurnal creatures while he was nocturnal. At least she’d already noticed this, commenting in what he hoped she meant to be at least partially a joke. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he added just in case it wasn’t. “But, uh… Yeah. Thanks.” He moved away from the counter and headed toward the bedroom, pausing in the hall. “And I’ll see what I can do about your clothes and food this evening.” That was the last thing he said before disappearing down the hall. The bathroom towel was left carelessly tossed on the counter as he passed the door; climbing into bed, his body had slipped into his daily coma before his head even hit the pillow.

[Raven]

“Alice Carroll,” she replied simply.

Alice scrunched up her nose at Will’s questions, once again forgetting that he wouldn’t be able to see. She’d been followed by Alice in Wonderland jokes her whole life. It only made matters worse that her last name matched the author’s pen name. Her parents thought they’d been so clever when they named her, but it was really rather annoying. Every time she told people her name, they’d chuckle and thought she was making a cheesy joke. But no, that was her name. Alice had even considered changing it, but found that a bit tricky. She couldn’t change her last name, as it would hurt her father too much to change it for such a little reason. And she didn’t really want to change her first name since she quite liked the name ‘Alice’ and felt it suited her. So she’d kept with her real name and tried her best to absorb all the lame puns that basically every person she’d ever met had thrown at her.

“Yes, well...” Alice began while gently biting the side of her cheek, “I can see why you’d say so. I’m certainly not in one of the easiest situations, that’s for sure.”

Thinking about his suggestion for a moment, Will had a bit of a point. In some regards, she could do whatever she liked. Go to movies and never pay admission or gain access to even the most top secret places. Yet, there were some small, yet very important, situations which Will was failing to consider.

“I-I don’t know, “she replied honestly, “But while those things all seem nice, they are all quite flawed. I’m invisible, not a ghost. People notice doors opening on their own. Getting anywhere would be tricky, especially long distances. I wouldn’t be able to drive, and if I tried to take the subway anywhere someone would probably try to sit on me. And what about food? I’m sure people would notice grocery bags carrying themselves along the sidewalk. Or a floating sandwich. And a place to sleep! An invisible person can’t rent out an apartment, can’t get the keys to a hotel room. There are too many small and important details that make an invisible life extremely difficult. Not to mention lonely.”

By the end of her rant, Alice’s voice had grown soft and quiet, filled with obvious sadness. The more she spoke about the negatives, the more pain it caused her. All those things had become her reality. She couldn’t take care of herself anymore. She was about as capable as a child at this point. Her gift was nothing more than a curse that crippled her, prevented her from living. It made her realise how little living she had done before this happened, and now she regretted it more than anything.

“Not your fault,” Alice said, sadness still clear in her voice, “It isn’t as though you knew I was here in the first place.”

And with that, the see-through girl reached for the blanket that was resting on the arm of the sofa, and covered her small frame with it as she lay down. As her head hit the small throw cushion, she curled her knees up to her chest and gave a heavy sigh. She was thankful for sleep now, but still couldn’t help being down about her whole situation. Though, it was nice finally having someone know she existed, someone she could finally talk to. Even if they were a vampire.

“Thank you,” she called after him, unsure if he was still there or if he’d already wandered off to what was once her bedroom. Either way, she felt the need to say it once more. Will may have been a vampire, but he was showing her immense kindness that she’d never expected. She couldn’t have appreciated it more.

The next evening, Alice awoke fairly early. Or late depending on one’s outlook. Either way, she seemed to be the only one awake. Of course, she could have been wrong about that. It was difficult to tell with Will, her new vampire roommate, because he moved with such ease that he never made a sound. Well, not a sound that she’d ever heard at least. The only noise she’d heard from him since he moved in was the clicking of his typewriter keys.

Though she figured that Will would be up any moment, Alice decided that, for his kindness to her, a nice gesture was in order here. With that, Alice threw the blanket off of herself and headed into the kitchen. She then grabbed a mug from one of the cupboards, taking note that Will had quite good taste in kitchen cabinets even though she was still a bit upset that this was no longer the apartment that she knew and loved, and set it on the counter. Then she reached for the fridge and pulled out the jug of blood. Alice scowled, holding the jug away from her body. She couldn’t believe that she’d drank an entire mouthful of the stuff. It was revolting. Still, Alice went ahead and was about to pour it into the mug when she stopped and realised something...

The blood from the fridge was cold. Did he drink it cold? She’d never paid attention to what he’d done when she thought it was some sort of weird protein shake or liquid meal substitute thing. Perhaps Will did heat it up to make it the same temperature as human blood. Alice was unsure. She considered asking him, but wanted this kind gesture to be a surprise for when he did wake up. So eventually, Alice made the choice to heat up the blood. It wasn’t as though she could mess it up just by heating it a little. And if he hated it, which she doubted he would, he could just let it cool off and put it back in the fridge.

With that, Alice began opening up all the cupboards until she found what she was looking for: a saucepot, a wooden spoon, and a meat thermometer. She placed the sauce pot on the burner, poured in just less than 2 cups of blood, and turned it on. After a moment Alice began stirring the pot with the spoon, vaguely unsure how to go about treating blood. She figured it was best to pretend it was gravy or something and give it a similar treatment. Just stir until bubbling and serve. Only difference was that she had a thermometer with the blood so she could check the temperature. For ten minutes, Alice stood there stirring the pot, then checking the temperature, stirring then checking. She wanted to make sure it was done right. As soon as the thermometer indicated to her that the blood was a perfect 98.6 °, Alice took the pot from the stove, shut off the burner and carried the pot to where she’d set the mug down. She then poured as much as she could get into the mug without making it absurdly full. This left a little left in the bottom of the sauce pan. She then set the sauce pan down on the counter, knowing it wouldn't damage the granite counter, before reaching for the thermometer. She ran it under cool water before returning it to the drawer.

With that, Alice picked the mug up by its handle and glanced towards the bedroom, wondering if Will was almost up.

[Millie]

As the sun sunk below the horizon, Will awoke to the scent of warm blood wafting through his apartment. His brows furrowed in confusion, not quite understanding why. It wasn’t until he listened closer, hearing the sound of the wooden spoon gently scraping across the metal saucepan, that it dawned on him what was going on. Alice was in the kitchen, heating the blood on the stove. But why? It wasn’t as though she could consume it… unless she’d thought maybe it’d taste better warm. Chuckling softly at the thought, he pulled himself out of bed and moved to get dressed.

Reaching up to open the closet door, or rather attempting to reach up to open the closet door, met him with the realization of his dead-weighted right arm. He swore silently, sitting back down on his bed. A moment later, a prosthetic arm had been removed from the four-inch stub of an arm. Standing and carrying the prosthetic across the room, he laid it on the floor, flipping open a hatch on the forearm and plugging it in to charge, something he should have done when before falling asleep the morning before. For the first time in almost a decade, he regretted not hanging on to the older models, instead electing to leave them in a storage unit with the rest of his currently-unused possessions.

It wasn’t as though he’d never lived life with only one arm before, and because of this he was able to adapt rather quickly as he went about getting dressed and ready for the day; it simply took him a few minutes longer than usual. Finishing up, he crossed the room and headed out into the living room, noticing Alice standing –or rather, the floating objects that represented where she was standing –in the kitchen filling a mug with warm blood. “What, did you think you might like it better warm?” he asked, chuckling on his way into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. “You won’t. Trust me. The human pallet isn’t suited to enjoy it in all its metallic tang.” He made a move to cross his arms before remembering he only had one this evening, instead resting his left hand against the edge of the counter behind him. “Although, you were correct about one thing: it is preferable warm.”

[Raven]

As Alice turned her gaze in the direction of the bedroom, she realised Will was already standing there watching her. She jumped, which turned into more a twitch once she remembered that she was holding a mug of hot liquid, ever so slightly at the sight of him since she hadn’t expected him to already be standing there. Over the last few days, she’d become familiar with how silent he was in his movements, but it still startled her regardless.

Smiling at the silly joke, Alice opened her mouth to reply, but, as her eyes fell upon the right side of Will’s body, her mouth just fell open the rest of the way. She was speechless. It was his right arm, or more accurately lack thereof. Alice couldn’t understand. He’d had one yesterday. And now... It was gone! Alice tried thinking back to when she’d walked in on Will undressing for his shower, as well as just after he’d had it, and she just knew that an arm had been there before. Or had there? No, no there definitely had been! She watched him type for hours on end with two clearly existent hands.

“Uh... Uh, no...” Alice stammered, completely confused by what she saw before her until she realised that what she was doing was incredibly impolite. She shook her head slightly and composed herself before continuing much more confident and bold this time, “That would be silly. I made it for you. Heated to a perfect 98.6 °. I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be heated, but I figured that if you’re, uh, taking it from someone it would taste best so if you’re doing that then it would be at 98.6 °. It’s to say thanks.”

Alice held the mug out to him, waiting for him to take it. She was obviously no expert, but she worried that blood was similar to food when it came to cooking and that it was possible to “burn” it. Or “under cook” it. Or something.

“I’m just glad I was right in assuming to heat it up.” She replied, “I know microwaving would be easier, but since this stuff is food to you the way something normal would be food for me, I figured stove top was the best approach. You know how it is; microwaved food never tastes as good.”

[Millie]

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Will began with a chuckle upon seeing her jump-twitch combination. “I forget you humans have such poor hearing. I’ll try to… Shuffle my feet more?” He hadn’t lived with a human since the Civil War, and he’d lost track of the number of times he’d unwittingly snuck up on the woman he’d been living with. Eventually, he’d learned to make noise when he walked, shuffling his feet and taking heavier footsteps, but that had been over a century ago. Clearly, he’d managed to revert back to his old ways rather quickly and smoothly.

Just as everyone in the world cracked an Alice in Wonderland joke about her name, anyone that saw him without the prosthetic never failed to gawk the first time. Alice was no exception. Thankfully, after two and a half centuries of receiving the same reaction time and time again, Will had learned not to let it faze him. In fact, over the decades he’d learned to find the humor in it. He had been prepared to explain how it happened if she’d asked, but didn’t push the issue when she refrained from commenting.

Instead, he was caught rather off-guard by just how out of her way she’d gone to heat up his breakfast. His eyes scanned over the saucepan and spoon as she spoke, wondering exactly why she’d gone through so much trouble. It wasn’t as those he’d done anything particularly spectacular to deserve it; he just hadn’t kicked her out. Maybe that’s what she meant to be thanking him for. He didn’t show his surprise, though; that was another thing you learned to perfect after so many years: a damn good poker face. Instead, he simply smiled and reached out, taking the mug and thanking her before taking a drink.

“The microwave wasn’t invented until after I died,” he admitted with a shrug. “And to be honest, I’d never bothered to test the difference in taste.” Will took another drink, sloshing it around in his mouth a bit before swallowing. “You’re right again, though. Stovetop is better.” A grin played on his features momentarily. “So, what are we going to do about your breakfast?”

[Raven]

Alice grinned back at him, not that Will could see it, as she saw the smile form on his face. It was the first time she’d seen a smile the whole time she’d been around him, whether he knew she was there or not. It was nice; not only because he had a very charming smile, but it was good to know that she’d done something right to please the person that was really helping her out. Plus, it made her feel a little bit more reassured that he wouldn’t turn on her and suck her blood. She may have been invisible, but after the events of the day before, it was clear that didn’t affect his ability to subdue her very much.

“Oh,” Alice replied, surprised by his words, “Wasn’t the microwave invented in the 50s or something? How... How old are you exactly?”

Normally, Alice would have considered that too personal of a question to ask someone she hardly knew, but this was a special circumstance. It wasn’t as though he was just anyone. Will was a vampire, after all. A strong, immortal vampire. And when he indicated to her that he had died – an interesting choice of words considering he wasn’t really dead, not in Alice’s opinion anyway, but that was a whole other conversation – before the microwave had been invented, it was too difficult to resist inquiring as to how old this immortal being could be.

At the mention of breakfast, Alice’s emerald eyes lit up. She was actually going to get a meal. A real one! Not only had it been nearly a week since she’d eaten, but for weeks before that she’d been living off nothing aside from non perishable food items since that was all she’d had left. After a few days of it, anything that came out of a can stopped being considered real food. Alice’s mind raced with thoughts of big plates covered with every breakfast food imaginable. Eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, pancakes, waffles, home fries, fruit salad... The list went on! She considered suggesting her favourite cafe that did an excellent breakfast platter, but then her hopes were shattered when she realised that, though she’d just woken up, it was evening. The sun had gone down. The best that could be done was dinner. And even that would be tricky since there was still the whole invisibility issue. It was a bit difficult for a vampire and an invisible girl to keep things low key if the vampire was sat in a restaurant, no food in front of him, as a fork was suspended in thin air across from him, shovelling food into an unseen mouth. Too many issues.

“Oh, well, I don’t know,” she said, her stomach growling loudly as if on cue, “A big stack of pancakes would be nice right about now, to be honest, but I don’t know how we could go about making that happen.”

[Millie]

“Wasn’t the microwave invented in the 50s or something?” William had to fight to surprise a good laugh at that question. The pure innocence in her voice was what had made it such a humorous statement; it was almost as though she believed time ceased to exist before the invention of the microwave. He figured it was only a matter of time before her brain began to comprehend his statement complete, before the next question would naturally follow. Sure enough, almost immediately after her comment about the microwave came the natural follow up, “How... How old are you exactly?”

Containing his laughter, he composed himself enough to respond. “It was invented in 1946, actually… And what is it? 2010? 2011? I never keep track… Let’s see…” His eyes moved toward the ceiling as he thought to remember. “I was born in… Seventeen… 1757. Which makes me… 250… Almost 255. God, am I that old already?” He laughed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. The last time he’d stopped to actually figure out his age had been in the 1980s. Anymore when someone asked him how old he was, he simply stated ‘22’ and left it at that. That was the pleasure of being immortal. He had the eternal youth many humans only dreamed of obtaining.

That’s when the conversation turned from his age to her stomach. “Just how long has it been since you had anything in your system other than water?” he asked, masking the mild note of concern in his voice well. While she answered, he contemplated a way for them to get food in her stomach without being stared at in a restaurant like a couple of freaks. The same image going through her mind passed through his as well: his visible self not eating while her invisible self shoveled food into her mouth across the table. The things people would say… Of course, this was New York City. People did crazy things all the time; they’d probably assume it was some sort of magic trick and ask how he was doing it. If he was really lucky, he’d get approached by someone and asked to do a show at some swanky hotel for cheap entertainment. None of it interested him. “Would you be able to wait an hour? I may have an idea.”

[Raven]

Alice huffed as Will laughed at her question. She couldn’t comprehend what was so funny about it. It wasn’t as though it were a stupid question. It was a totally valid point. The man who stood before her couldn’t be over the age of 25, physically at least considering the facts, and even that was pushing it. And even though Alice recognised that, as an immortal, Will could have been alive for an incredibly long time, it seemed difficult to imagine. This, understandably, made hearing that he had “died” before the 50s very strange. Heck, it made it difficult to picture that he’d been born before the 80s, forget about having died before the 50s!

“1757? Seriously?” Alice asked, utterly gobsmacked, “255... I... That... But... Its weird imagining that you’re older than 25, much less almost 255...”

She didn’t know what else to say about his age, really. Trying to imagine all the things he’d lived through, all the things he’d seen. It must have been amazing watching the world change around him. And he must have travelled all over the world in all that time. Alice would give anything to see the things he’d seen. Experience all the things Will had experienced! She was mesmerized.

Eventually, Will’s words cut into Alice’s mini day dream. She needed a moment to think before she was able to answer him.

“Well, all of my food had been cleared out when you had the renovation started. I got lucky though, your reno guys stored their lunches in my fridge before all the new stuff came in,” She explained, giggling as she remembered the crew bicker back and forth over what she’d done, “And, well, I sort of stole their lunches whenever they were distracted with their work. So, I don’t know exactly, but my last meal was around lunch time on the last day you had the crew in. It’s definitely been a while...”

A puzzled look came over Alice’s face. Waiting an hour? Well, she didn’t exactly want to wait that long, but she’d gone a fair while now without food so one more hour wouldn’t kill her. More than that, though, Alice just wanted to know what Will had in mind.

“Uh, yeah, I could do that. But why? What are you thinking?”

[Millie]

“You know, that reaction just keeps getting better as I get older,” Will told her with a laugh. “Thirty years ago, it wasn’t quite as astounding a number. Of course, people were also high a vast majority of the time thirty years ago, too, so that really doesn’t go to say much at all.” All he knew was that it had been a while. A long while. And each year just kept moving forward faster than the one before it. Before long, a year in his life was going to seem like a day to any human’s.

None of that really mattered right now. What did was getting food in Alice’s frightfully empty stomach. He didn’t even want to think about how long it had been since the crews had been remodeling the apartment. “I’m think I’m going to get you your pancakes. Keep yourself busy while I’m gone, alright? Have you taken a look at my bookshelves?” Alright, it was a selfish plug for his own books, but he couldn’t help it. When you wrote historical fiction, you took every reader you could get. It wasn’t like any of his books had ever been a New York Times best seller. Well… not more than one, anyway.

He didn’t wait for her to respond, disappearing to his bedroom to grab his wallet from the top of the dresser before exiting the front door. His voice rang through the apartment even after the door closed, words spoken before his superhuman speed only just having time to be heard, “Won’t be gone long.” He didn’t think she’d have to ask him where he was going. Where did humans go to get food, after all? The grocery store. It may have seemed like an absurd thought, a vampire shopping at a grocery store, but it wasn’t as though he were shopping for himself.

Forty-five minutes passed before Will came back through the apartment door, a paper sack in his arm. Closing the door with his foot, he crossed to the kitchen and placed it on the counter, digging out the bag’s contents one back one. On top were the delicates, things that could get smashed, mostly fruits in this case: bananas, strawberries, blueberries, cherries, raspberries, kiwi, apples, pears, and grapes. Then came a bag of flour, salt, sugar, a box of baking powder, a half gallon carton of milk, a box of four sticks of butter, and a pint of real maple syrup. Last but not least came a carton of two dozen eggs, followed by a cook book with the recipe for pancakes dog-eared. He moved flawlessly around the kitchen as he pulled from the cabinets a large stainless steel bowl, measuring cups and spoon, a skillet, a spatula, and spoon. Only once everything was laid out on the counter did he stop and look at her, a crooked grin on his face. “So… Pancakes?”

[Raven]

At the mention of book shelves, Alice turned her attention to the living room walls. She’d noticed that they were lined with literature, something which normally would have excited her, but consider how bitter she had been she didn’t particularly care enough to check them out. Now that he’d mentioned them, however, Alice’s mood towards them was a bit different. It’d be nice to peruse some new books considering she hadn’t read anything in ages. She’d once done nothing with her free time aside from read, something that would have been plainly obvious if her bookshelf had remained in this apartment since it was rather large, though nowhere near as large as Will’s collection. Since her life had become progressively more hectic, however, Alice found herself unable to do anything with her free time aside from trying to block out the world after a long day at work.

Before she could say anything, Will had vanished from the apartment, even though she could still hear his words. He certainly was fast. Alice wondered what he was up to, but thought it best to put her mind on other things for the time being. If she thought too much about where he’d gone, Alice would only get more painfully hungry. Instead, Alice headed towards one of the many bookshelves. She scanned through each shelf, quickly noting the names and authors of each one. None of the titles sounded familiar, and Alice only recognised a small handful of author's names. After a moment of scanning, Alice realised there was one shelf dedicated to just one author named William Stewart. At first, Alice dismissed the name, but within a minute she realised that was Will’s name. Must have been over a dozen books all published and bound and pretty and with his name on them. It made Alice envy Will a bit. She’d moved to New York with dreams of being published, but still hadn’t gotten anywhere close.

After a few more moments of skimming, Alice finally chose a book off the shelf. She could have chosen any one of them, but, out of curiosity Alice chose one of Will's books over ones that seemd more interesting, but written by other authors. She took the book and, without bothering to even read the title, sat down on the nearest arm chair before cracking it open and diving right in.

It felt like only minutes since Will had left, but in reality it had been three quarters of an hour before Will had returned. That was how engrossed in the novel Alice had become. She’d even made it a quarter of the way through the book; this was particularly surprising considering it was quite long. Even when Alice heard the door open, she didn’t look up from her page. She was utterly enthralled and refused to put the book down until she’d reached the end of that particular chapter.

Once she’d finally pulled herself away, Alice headed into the kitchen. There, she found Will unpacking a massive brown paper sack of groceries. More specifically, fruit and breakfast supplies. Will had even bought a cook book with a pancake recipe in it. As Alice took in the vast array of ingredients, her eyes grew wide. She hadn’t seen fresh produce in weeks. It all looked delicious. And the recipe he had bookmarked looked great. Alice was completely overjoyed. Without thinking about what she was doing, Alice wrapped her arms around Will’s waist and, with her petite frame pressed up against him, squeezed his solid body as tight as she could, which she was certain he’d hardly feel.

“Thanks, Will,” she said, her voice bursting with excitement. When she realised what she was doing, Alice let go of Will and took a step back, an awkward smile forming on her face, “Yes, please! You didn’t need to go so far out of your way, though. But it does look excellent!”

And it all did. Alice wouldn’t wait for the end product. She was absolutely starving before, but now that there was food lying out in front of her, the hunger became even more persistent.

“I just have one question... If all you drink is blood, why do you have all these cooking utensils?” Alice inquired before adding, “Oh, and another thing. I’ve started one of your books. It’s really, really good. Now I see what you were typing away at yesterday. I didn't realise... I'm sorry.”

[Millie]

Will had figured she would be grateful for the pancakes, but he hadn’t expected her to be quite that grateful. Hesitating as he felt her arms around his waist, he instinctively looked down, catching himself when he remembered he couldn’t see her regardless. A small smile pulled the corners of his lips upward at the contact, but he didn’t turn around for her to see. Where was the fairness in that? He couldn’t see her facial expressions, after all. The smile only grew at her enthusiasm. “Help yourself to the fruit,” he told her as he scanned the recipe once more. “Just not the blueberries. They’re for the pancakes.” This time he did look over his shoulder at her heartbeat, that same crooked grin on his lips. He didn’t have the heart to tell her just yet that he was planning on dragging her back to store after she’d eaten so they could stock the kitchen properly. He could buy breakfast ingredients and fruit, but beyond that, his vampire taste buds were rather useless. His only hope was the promise of taking her to get her clothes and whatever else she wanted after they’d put away the groceries.

Briefly wondering if her questions would ever be beyond what he was expecting from her, another soft chuckle passed his lips. “I have to keep up appearances in some ways,” he answered as he measured out the dry ingredients and dumped them in the mixing bowl together. “I never know when I’ll have a human in my home, and what kind of human kitchen doesn’t have these things? What would you think if you didn’t stumble upon the normal kitchen objects in your quest for a glass of water?” Really, the appearance part was only half true. Truth be told, he’d once attempted to cook human food flavored with blood for his taste. Needless to say, the concept had flopped. Not only did it not improve the taste, but the food had only served to make him sick. His organs didn’t process it anymore; it simply sat in his stomach until he got around to hacking it back up.

Another hidden smirk, this time because his plug for his books had worked. “Oh?” he asked, sounding surprised. “Which one did you pick up?” Then she reminded him of the mishap the night before. Will simply shrugged as he measured the milk, pouring it into the eggs he’d beat earlier and mixing the two together. “Don’t worry about it. It won’t be too difficult to retype… Mind holding this bowl still for me while I stir, please?” He’d just poured the liquid ingredients in with the dry; unfortunately, there was no way to hold the bowl steady and stir at the same time with only one arm. He began stirring after he knew she had a good hold on it, continuing, “That’s all I have to do, really. Retype it. I’ve already written the book in my head.” That was an understatement by which he meant he’d already lived the events in the book; it was simply the process of recalling them and describing them on paper that was left to complete.

[Raven]

At Will’s command to help herself, Alice didn’t hesitate to do exactly that. She hoisted herself up onto the counter before reaching for the carton of raspberries. She couldn’t be bothered to wash them; instead she opened up the carton and began popping them back one at a time. Alice wouldn’t have been able to describe how good the taste of fresh berries was if she had to. Each juicy berry burst as she bit down on it, releasing all the sweet juices. They were absolutely delicious. She’d polished over half the carton within a couple of minutes. Alice then but down the remainder of the berries and reached for a banana. Peeling it quickly, Alice took a big bite and sighed contently.

“Keeping up appearances?” Alice questioned, “Does that mean I’m not the first human to still be alive after meeting you? I mean, I know you haven’t polished me off just yet, but I guess I sort of figured it was because I was intriguingly invisible or something. But with regular humans... Don’t you vampires just, uh, use them?”

It was becoming obvious that, whenever Alice had to mention the idea of drinking blood, she danced around the actual words. It was too weird to say. Sure the pair seemed to be getting along fine so far, but in the back of Alice’s mind she wondered if Will was planning on turning her into lunch after he served her breakfast. He was a vampire, after all, how was she to know? The only thing she knew about them was that they drank blood and slept all day.

When Will asked her about the book she’d chosen to read, Alice explained which she had taken an interest in eventually reading and which she was currently sucked in to. She went on to explain how his books had never been a genre that interested her much, but proved to be promising.

“Are you sure? I feel a bit bad about it anyway,” she replied before following Will’s instructions and holding the bowl steady for him to stir, “Because I mean, I sort of ruined it and I know hard writing can be. I’ve been trying to get published, but things haven’t been quite working out so I know setbacks like that don’t feel very great.”

As Alice held the bowl steady, she realised why she was holding it. It was because of Will’s lack of a right arm. Being reminded of this new development only made her even more curious. She considered asking, but wasn’t sure if that would come off as being very impolite. At the same time, if she had she seen him from the get go without an arm, Alice wouldn’t have said anything. Yet, she figured it wasn’t unreasonable to question his arm’s whereabouts since it had been there one night, but gone the next. This argument sort of, in Alice’s mind, justified asking so she decided to do just that.

“Can I ask you what happened to your arm?