Neeew fic! Neeew fic! Tralala!

I rented Dracula 2000 the other night (I and swear it wasn't because Gerard Butler was in it...) and I started thinking up this fic as I watched Dracula saunter down the streets of New Orleans during Mardi Grais. He iz zo zexy! RAWR!

Of the Wicca Readers:

The 50th review inspired me! I'm working on the update! Woohoo!

Wander in Winter Readers:

I'm still formulating the next chapter... so it might be a few more days (especially since I have Dracula on my mind... BUT I STILL LOVE ERIK! HE IS MY FIERY, SKULKING LOVAAAAA!)

Warning: There is some heavy swearing and drug references in this first chapter in particually, so be forewarned!

It was really late. Or possibly very early. That much I knew, although not much else. The dank, London streets had only recently stopped swirling and spinning, and I had no idea where I was. David, that bastard. He’d had some awesome stuff tonight; didn’t say where he’d got it. And after I took the first whiff, I found that I didn’t give a damn. Rubbing my face, I stood and looked around. Where the hell was David? Where the hell was I! Whatever we’d taken, it was fucking powerful.

I stumbled into an alleyway, leaning again the old brick wall to catch my breath. I felt a bout of dizziness. I needed something to cool my nerves. My hand groped about in my sweatshirt pouch. I found an empty candy wrapper, a capsule, and some crumbs; no needle. Fuck. Where was it! I checked every pocket on me. No needle. No goddamn needle. I fell back onto the wall again, as a wave of nausea came over me. My hands were beginning to shake. I needed some flake…

Wincing and opening one eye, I looked down. An old garbage can. What good would that do! Something shiny caught my attention. It was buried down under a layer of trash, but nevertheless stuck out enough to catch my eye. Disbelief overwhelmed me. No way… Reaching down, I picked the object out of the rubbish with trembling fingers. No fucking way… My eyes widened as it caught the glow of a streetlight.

A syringe.

I brought it close to my eyes and squinted. It was empty. A grin broke out across my face. What are the fucking odds!

It didn’t take me long to fill the hypodermic and I took even less time plunging the thin metal into my forearm. A blissful calm came over me, then I chuckled, feeling the effects beginning to kick in. I glanced at the now empty needle; I had plenty back at my flat...

Tossing it back into the litter can, I staggered away, smiling broadly as I watched the lights. I laughed again, and glanced up at the structure behind which I’d found my salvation. It was some old shop; probably sold a bunch of shit to fogies. I snickered at my own joke and looked at the name plate. Carfax Abbey?

I shook my head, and continued down the street. Who the hell would name their shop Carfax Abbey?