Map of The Problematique {Lenny}

[Dominic Spencer]

It was a glorious night to be wandering the streets of a new town. The clouds had covered the sky and the rain was bucketing down; all in all it was Dom’s kind of night to be out and about. He was drenched to the bone but that didn’t matter, he wouldn’t get sick or colder than the weather made him. Therefore he could enjoy the feeling of the rain on his pale skin without any worry at all. At times wandering into a crowded building sopping wet had raised some eyebrows but not once had he been caught out for being a vampire.

Deciding that he’d had enough rain for one night, the boy wandered up a side street with absolutely no clue as to where he was going. A rustic style sign pointed to a place called the Hog’s Head Inn, that sounded... cheerful. Dom shrugged, he supposed he might as well check the place out while he was here. The name sounded familiar, probably involved in that Great Wizarding War he often heard people around magical places gossiping about. He didn’t quite understand what the hell all the fuss was about. He’d been to war, it wasn’t a topic that he’d heard discussed much, if at all, afterwards.

Once he reached the outside of the pub the soaked vampire’s expression lit up, it didn’t look anywhere close to dreary as its name suggested. In fact from what he could see the atmosphere inside was quite cheerful, perfect; Dom loved cheerful. As soon as he pushed his way inside and removed his wet coat his body temperature changed to the warmth of the inn. It gave Dom a good feeling, any form of warmth he could get he was grateful for, it wasn’t like he could produce his own warmth anymore.

He shook out his blond hair and settled himself at a table close to the fire to dry himself. It wasn’t until he had somewhat relaxed did he notice the smell of other vampires about. Inhaling deeply he figured there were two separate scents, one he didn’t recognise and one he did. For some reason his instincts told him to fear the one whose scent he recognised but he could not place a face to it. He had reasons to fear many vampires; he wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular with his own kind. Too much of a trouble maker and free spirit for their liking.

His eyes darted to and fro, trying to find the sources of both scents, the known one in particular. If his heart had still been beating it would have stopped when he spotted who he’d been searching for. Those eyes, blonde hair and lips were unmistakable. Only a few metres from him sat the vampiress that had caused him to be doomed to eternal life and she was looking straight at him. ”You...” was all he managed to stutter as he turned himself fully to face his killer.

[Lenora]

Lenora has been splitting her time between making sure Vivian was well looked after and helping keeping the Hog tidy, from any excursions its occupants underwent. She was refraining from killing people for her own benefit. She very much needed the hospitality Edward was showing her currently. She didn’t want to jeopardise it by going on a killing spree.

She had had to sneak away to the nearest Muggle community and have a snack every now and again, just to get her by. Once Vivian was more security on her feet. Chances were, she would just move to a new town, one without these insane imbeciles that insisted on picking fights, over and over.

Right now she sat at the end of the car in the Hog, drinking a Cinnamon Butterbeer, something she had taken to actually enjoying when she couldn’t get a fresh fix. She tended to ignore most of the patrons, knowing if she didn;t she’d end up leading them to a back alley and draining them of all their blood. Seriously, if the codger tried putting his hand on her thigh again, she would kill him.

Tonight, on the other hand, when the door opened she looked, she didn’t have to turn around, just look up from her drink. Vampire. They had this unearth smell to them. But there was something else about this smell. She knew it. Vaguely, but she’d smelt it before. She never forgot. Not a face, not a smell. Which is why she looked. In doing so she nearly fell off of her chair. It wasn’t possible, the boy should be dead!

Lenora made a point of never forgetting the faces of those she killed. She didn’t change men, the pig headed gender. This man should be dead. No, he was, but he shouldn’t be moving. She stared. Watched him take a seat and continued to look at him. Staring down the back of his head until he looked at her. The look on his face told her that he knew who she was, ”Why are you not, at the present time, deceased?” she asked indignantly. She didn’t make mistakes and it wasn’t everyday somebody you murdered looked you back in the face. Alive. Ish.

[Dominic Spencer]

Seeing the woman who’d ended his human life without his consent, which was rather rude, was producing a mixed bag of emotions for Dominic. Part of him was scared of her. What if she wanted to finish the job? There wasn’t much stopping her, just a bunch of mortals with wands who wouldn’t be able to stop a vamp bent on murder even if they wanted to. This woman had shown him no mercy before so it wasn’t hard to imagine what she could do to him now.

There was fear, and then there was also anger. The woman, whose name the boy had never gotten the chance to learn, had made sure his life had been destroyed. She had cursed him to walking the earth forever while those around him died. Dom had been forced to watch as his siblings all grew old and one by one died while he remained the same. It was her fault that he could no longer eat chocolate without feeling sick, that he could no longer lay out in the sun for hours at a time and that people around him thought he was a monster.

Her voice was like ice and made the flaxen-haired vampire shiver. ”Well it’s no thanks to you,” he answered shortly. There was more he wanted to say but the right words weren’t coming to him. Part of the boy wanted to yell and scream at her for what she’d done and yet another part of him wanted to break down and run from her. There were questions he wanted to ask and things he wanted to do to but for a few moments he remained silent, simply staring at her.

”Why? he asked eventually, ”Why did you kill me? Why did you do it? If it weren’t for you I would have lived a long and natural life. I would have had a family, grown old and then died eventually, so tell me why. All these years and I still haven’t figured out an answer for myself.” The more he spoke the more his emotions surfaced. The tone of his voice made it clear he was both angry and confused. Decades of hurting and longing pierced the boy like a knife. Suddenly he was wishing he’d picked a different pub.

[Lenora]

Lenora could help but groan. She’d never had a kill come back to haunt her before, so she’d never really come up with much of a contingency plan if they had. She could just stake him, put him where he really should be. It wouldn’t worry her and wouldn’t take a lot of time. This imbecile was still only young compared to the likes of her and Dacian. And like everything young thing, he seemed to ooze this incredibly annoying, fake, exaggerated libido. This was why she’d tried to kill him the first time.

”You are, without shadow of a doubt, a minuscule, wretched Casanova. You should be deceased,” she said, slowly, every word dripping with venom and anger and an over whelming sense to pull his throat out then and there, ”Properly.” He still had so much to learn. He was petty, begging with her, giving her emotional little reasons that barely scratched her surface anymore. He was a stupid, barely past pubescent cretin. Sometimes being a faultless murderer was a hard task. It took a lot to clean up after yourself and not get noticed.

Obviously some idiot had come across this pathetic waste of space and thought he could do with a chance. Whoever it was, if Lenora ever met them, she would kill them for being a tit. Who could be so stupid? Obviously she hadn’t done a good enough job of killing him for him not to be bought back to life. He hardly screamed vampire material. I mean look at him, acting all emotional, and over the top on seeing her. She didn’t know how she would ever react on seeing her killer again, but she was strong enough to cope with it, that much she knew.

”There is no type of masculine character in this world that seems to pass the world by without acting like he owns the universe, thinking every woman is at his beck and call. You made one grave mistake in your life, child, and that was the night you met me. Now stop your simpering, and get along. There is no room for the likes of you here.”