The Nosferatu Adventures S4 p1

The Nosferatu Adventures 
page 103, chapter 103

The sign on the door read Friday 9am to 7pm. Opening it, forced her to shift the weight of her leather bag in order to still hold her coffee. The place had the familiar smell all libraries do, a mix of industrial cleaners, bubble gum, and dust. 

She hated bubble gum.

She headed downstairs to the research department, finding herself a table between the front desk and the copy machine. Catching sight of herself in the window, she promised to pick up a hair dye on her way home, mentally adding it to her to do list. Her naturally auburn hair now had two large grey streaks in it, as if over night. She felt comfortable with the rest of her outfit of dark jeans, sneakers, a plan v-neck t-shirt and charcoal sweater that came to mid thigh. Grabbing her notes, she found the list of books she needed to continue her thesis. Most were in the New Age-Occult section, which was just three rows from her table.
Our heroine wasn't paying attention at first, which is why she nearly tripped over the male.

"Oh, I'm Sorry." she said pushing her wire rimmed glasses up in nervousness. The male had been crouched down in front of a selection of books on wild life. Standing, he nodded smiling at her, his long hair tied back in a too smooth to be human pony tale, his chocolate brown puppy dog eyes sparkling.

"No problem." he said mindlessly scratching at his beard. Our heroine noticed he had a rabbit design on his shirt as she moved around him to find the shelf she was looking for. Just as she was reaching for a book on the history of witchcraft, a very strong hand reached in at the same time snatching it.

"Excuse me." he said nodding. "Did you need this?" he smiled wide, running his hand through his short hair as if checking it.

"I just need to copy a few pages from it." she mumbled.

"Are you in my class?" the male asked turning his face slightly, his perfect lips forming an 'o'. "I'm sorry. I'm terrible with faces." he cleared his throat running his free hand down to smooth his grey tie. "So many middle aged women going back to school and stuff." his blue eyes trailed over her. "You all just blend into a blur."

Our heroine pulled the charcoal coloured sweater tight as she ran her tongue over her teeth in frustration. "Not a student. Forget the book."  she turned heading back to her table.
Taking a sip of her coffee, she was still thinking about how cocky that guy had been when she felt someone bump into her. She ended up spilling coffee on herself and half her notes. "Dude! Really?" she turned to see a male disappear behind a row of shelves, only getting a quick glimpse of his black trenchcoat. Digging then into her leather bag, she found some napkins.

"Well that's an interesting binder." a voice said over her left shoulder. Our heroine found herself staring at a very tattooed arm holding a very expensive camera. He was tall, tattoos peaking out from under a plain long sleeved shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows, and short hair spiked into a half mohawk. She closed her eyes at a loss for words before letting out a deep sigh, feeling her shoulders sag.

"Yeah, it started off as a joke gift from my cousin but ended up being pretty useful." she found herself blushing as she studied the hand now holding the camera. The tattooed letters on his knuckles formed the word 'stay'.

"You look like you could use a break already. We're doing a photo shoot in the next room, want to come watch?" he said casually. 
She followed him to the next room with a sign that read Adult-Young Adult Romance/Fiction, and another sign under it that declared book club on Tuesdays. There were a few backdrops, a large tripod light and one very broad shouldered male standing there waiting. He flicked his hair out of his eyes, as he grinned. "He's our model for the day."

"I got that much given the whole standing there before the props and the drooling teenagers hovering by the door." she said gesturing to the four teens all carrying copies of the latest teen supernatural-romance, which all seemed to have a vague likeness of the model. She watched as the male model flicked his long jet black hair out of his face for a second time. "Wow, does he come with his own wind machine? Like he was designed for movie posters."
She watched the shoot for the next few minutes, before having to get back to her research. At one point, the photographer had to pull a very insistent 15 year old off of the lighting tripod, as she was swinging on it like a stripper pole. Our heroine wasn't sure if the girl was just trying to get the male model's attention or actually on camera herself?
When she got back to her table, she noticed a man sleeping at the far end of the table right next to her's. He was dressed in red leather pants, boots, and a biker jacket, leaning back in the chair, feet up on the table, his breathing steady. Our heroine had the strangest deja vu as she stared at him.

Reaching into her bag for a pen, she snagged her bracelet on the handle of her lunchbox, and had to pull it out of the bag in order to free herself.  

"Rare to see those types of lunchboxes anymore. Is it your son's?"

Our heroine shook her head at the man as she mindlessly opened it. "Don't have any kids. Saw it and thought it would make a good make-up kit."  She checked him over; dark spiky hair, brown eyes, pale, dressed in dark jeans and a grey shirt that had the word Detroit on it.

"Really? You just seem...that age." he winked at her.

"Excuse me miss, is this guy bothering you?" yet another voice seemed to appear at her shoulder. She was about to say no when Detroit smiled and backed away, disappearing into the other room. Turning she saw a new player. He was about 5 foot 10, short brown hair, grey eyes, suit pants, white dress shirt with the cuffs unbuttoned, red tie, and a stack of files in hand.  She pushed her glasses up again as she checked him out. Licking her lips, she told him she was fine. "Well, if you need anything, my office is just over there." he walked away, closing the door to the office. "You shouldn't have done that." he said as Loki shimmered into view.

"She needs to wake up and sitting in here isn't part of my plans." the god said peaking through the blinds on the office door.

Bacchus scratched his nose. "She needs to accept what's going on. You really did a number on her. I don't think a few days knocked out, dreaming of a safer place..."

"Not helping. Just going to make it worse when she does wake up, and you know it." he pointed at the other god. "And what's with the new look?"

"It's one of my favourites. How'd you swing it in that outfit without her recognizing you as her favourite wrestler?"

"Cloaking myself. She just thinks this image is some hot guy." he jutted his chin out winking. "She's got two more days, then I'm forcing her to wake up and remember."

"What if it doesn't work? What if she's just not strong enough in the end?" Bacchus asked.

"We start over."

Meanwhile...

Our heroine was at the copy machine, photocopying pages from a book on German fairy tales when the first guy in the rabbit shirt came over. "I'll be just a minute."

"No rush." he replied, a large volume in his hand. Leaning over, he let his fingers gently flick at her bracelet. "That's neat."

"Thanks." she held up her wrist showing the charms; a wolf, a pentagram, a moon, a dream catcher, a bat, an arrow and a pirates flag with a skull an crossbones on it.

"Where did you get it?"

She went to answer and found herself unable to remember. "Been so long." she shrugged then gestured to the copier. "There you go."

"Thanks. Reuben by the way."

"Nosferatu."

Meanwhile...

The lights were starting to hurt his eyes, his back already forcing him to need to stretch. "Ash, can we take a break?"

The photographer checked the time  nodding. "Yeah ten minutes, I want to get this done by deadline." He looked around, sighing at the handful of teens that had gathered again. He was going to kill whoever it was that leaked their location online. This was one of the reasons Ash had left his job at the magazine to do poster and novel covers, it was suppose to be quieter shoots. But it seemed someone at their agency had leaked online that Rolf was shooting the latest poster for a young adult novel turned movie. He had quickly become the face of the supernatural-romance.

"Who was the woman you were talking to?" Rolf asked as he grabbed a jacket from the nearest chair.

"Just some random woman."

Meanwhile...

Nosferatu was searching the stacks once again for a copy of a book on Romanian folklore when she happened upon the rude cocky guy again. This time, she caught him flirting with a college student, the girl couldn't have been more then 19 and buying ever bit of what he was selling.
Spotting her, the guy told the girl to check in with him later. Clearing his throat, he waltzed up to our heroine, a devious grin on his face. He half turned towards the now empty spot where he'd just been, most likely checking to make sure she had left.
"You know, we've got to stop meeting like this. Did you find the book? That I left back in the spot on the shelf it belongs thirty seconds after you asked for it...okay you caught me, I didn't really need that book. I just thought I'd take it from you...not from you but at the same time cause in movies..." he cleared his throat again hands at his tie. The female's attention was solely on that action.

"You shouldn't molest your tie like that, you'll make your dick jealous." she turned to move from him, only to smash right into trenchcoat guy again. 
He had a look on his face that she couldn't read. It might have just been boredom, or he might have actually been checking her out. Trenchcoat guy had short sandy-red hair, blue eyes, was chewing on a toothpick, both hands in the pockets of the coat.
He just stood there, blocking her path. She noticed he had on a faded t-shirt with a logo for the old black and white version of Lon Chaney's Wolfman. He then leaned in sniffing her hair.

"What's that perfume you're wearing? Decafe?" he continued on through the shelves. "Suits you. Next time maybe try Latte."

"You know him?"

"No." she shook her head crossing her arms giving her cleavage a boost. "But that's the second time in under three hours that I've bumped into him today. Literally. And oddly enough, both times I smelled wet dog."

"Okay. Um, I'm lecturing upstairs. If you're not doing much right now, would you care to sit in on it?" he sucked in a breath between his teeth, hands now in the pockets of his pants. "I'm Professor Seer by the way." he held out his hand for her.
There was a strange wave of pure relaxation come over her as she shook his hand.

"What's the topic?"

"Witchcraft in the 1940's."

Meanwhile...

Dagan sat down at the table beside Reuben, scratching at his chin. "Who's the chick at the copy machine?" Reuben shrugged. "Come outside for a smoke with me."

"Right now? Wait five minutes, I think Rolf is about to get a break." Reuben replied.

"I can't wait that long. Need one now." he stood back up, tossing the toothpick into the nearest trashcan. "He's going to get swarmed by lovesick twilighters the second he moves a foot from the set" he air quoted the word set. "or worse desperate forgotten housewives on crack."

"Someone sounds jealous." Reuben remarked as he paperclipped his printouts, not bothering to look at his friend.

"I'm not jealous." his voice cracked. "Jealous of what? The fact our best friend is whoring himself to soccer moms and their under-aged kids? Why would I be jealous of that?" he had his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat, raising then so that he looked mildly like a bad imitation of a bat. He started to walk backwards in the direction of the doors.

"Yeah, but look at how much he's getting paid for it." Reuben commented under his breath. Dagan had already turned for the stairs and was half way across the lobby when he spotted the chick. She was going to the second floor with the guy he'd seen her with back in the stacks. Dagan didn't remember making the decision to follow them, but he found himself in the doorway of the lecture room. Looking around, he saw that most of the thirty seats were filled by young girls, some with novels in hand, others taking notes. The chick Dagan had followed was sitting by herself near the back of the room to the far left. He took the seat right beside her.

"Hey sweetheart. Got a light?" his breath hit her neck, sending a strange shiver over her.

"Don't smoke."

"So there's no point asking you to come with me outside for one?" he was practically resting his chin on her shoulder, as he made a sound that reminded her of a dog growling. Or a wolf.  The thought was an odd one that made her turn fully in her chair to look at him.  She had the craziest deja vu as she found herself watching his face, studying his eyes.

"Excuse me." she gathered her things rushing for the stairs. Taking a deep breath she pushed on the front door, but it was locked. Our heroine started banging on it, trying to get it open but only succeeded in making her hands bleed. She fell to the floor in a panic, the guy suddenly beside her, saying something, reaching for her. The female swung her leather bag at him, tears of panic blurring her vision. But Dagan was on his knees beside her, his eyes wide, telling her not to scream. Everything started to spin as she passed out.


Our heroine woke to find herself back in bed, shadows from the open window indicating it was almost dusk. Dagan was laying beside her, the smells of wet dog and stew heavy in the air. She started trembling as the tears poured down her face. The male woke as her crying shook the bed.

"You okay? Are you in pain or..."

"No. I was just having a really cool dream."  she turned to look at the werewolf as he grinned at her.


tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me (straight up story. Yeah, I just wanted to go somewhere different with the story this year.)