Author's Note: Before I begin I feel like I should explain a few things. When this takes place isn't hugely set in stone (though that may change in later chapters) but for now just assume it's around the same time as season 2-3. Eric is not in love with Sookie, though he does believe that she could be useful. I don't own anything you recognise and I hope you enjoy my ramblings. Let me know what you think!
Thsi s so gresz luv yyuooo
Elliot's eyebrows descended into a frown as she spent a few seconds deciphering the text. It was typical Morgan to do that, right as Elliot was settling down with a good old fashioned horror movie and a tub of ice cream. With a sigh, the young woman unfolded herself from the sofa, planting the tub on the table; hopefully by the time she got back it would have softened enough to be eatable. As she grabbed her keys and headed out the door, she hit dial on the phone and lifted it to her ear. The call was answered fairly quickly and Elliot's tone betrayed her annoyance.
"Where are you?"
"Elliot!" The slur in Morgan's voice was horribly pronounced and the brunette rolled her eyes, though she backed hurriedly out of the driveway; it was never good to leave her friend to her own devices when she had that much in her – Elliot knew that even after only a month of knowing her. "I love you! This place is so great, right, you should come over!" She gave a small hiccough and Elliot heard the sound of something crashing over the thumping music in the background.
"What was that?"
"It's nothiiiiing," Morgan cooed happily down the phone, a few other bumps following her words.
"Is everything alright, gorgeous?"
At the male voice Elliot immediately snapped to attention, pressing her foot into the gas, despite the fact that she didn't even know where Morgan was; for all she knew she was heading in the exact opposite direction to the one she needed. "Who was that?" she snapped, worried. "Who's that bloke in the background?"
"I'm fine, just fine," Morgan was saying, obviously no longer listening to the friend on the phone.
"Who's on the phone?"
"She's a friend." Morgan's voice was horribly vague; Elliot could just imagine the look of unaware bliss that would be plastered over the blonde's face. She was probably flat out on the floor, some creep leaning over her with his hand up her skirt.
"I'm coming to get her, don't you dare touch her!" Elliot's voice was a yell, expression panicked. "Where the hell are you?"
"Fangtasia, sweetness," the guy said, right into the phone. Elliot's grip on the device tightened as she frowned. She'd never heard of Fangtasia before, though it sounded like exactly the sort of place she tried to avoid; with a name like that there was no doubting that it was some sort of vampire hang out. What the hell Morgan was doing there was a question that would have to wait for now. "Come on down and I'll show you and your friend here a good time."
"Fuck you," Elliot shot back, blood boiling beneath her pale skin as her words were met with a chuckle. "Where the fuck is Fangtasia?"
"Shreveport. Hurry; if you don't get here soon I'll just have to satisfy myself with...what was your name?"
"Morgan," the voice came, more slurred than ever; Elliot's heart began pounding furiously.
"If you touch her-" she began, sounding a lot braver than she felt as she turned the car to head for Shreveport.
"Relax," the man replied, the easy smile he was wearing audible in his tone. "I'll wait for you." And with that he hung up, apparently under the impression that Elliot was on her way to have sex with the creep. She let out a small yell of frustration, pounding a hand against the steering wheel and inadvertently setting off the horn. Shit. Elliot sucked in a quick breath; she needed to calm down.
It didn't take too long to reach Shreveport, though it was longer than Elliot would have liked, and the first person she asked was most helpful in giving her directions to the club in question, though they were delivered with something of a disgusted look that the brunette behind the wheel decided to ignore. She shrieked into the parking lot, skidding to a halt and throwing the door open before she'd even killed the ignition.
"ID?" The woman at the door, unmistakeably a vampire, asked boredly, looking Elliot up and down as the latter scuffled in a pocket for her licence, waving it in the woman's face before charging past. "Go on in," the vampire muttered sarcastically, glancing after her.
The inside of Fangtasia made Elliot instantly uncomfortable, serving to remind her exactly why she avoided places like these. There were sweaty bodies every way she looked, grinding up against each other or glued at the face to other bodies. There were more vampires littered around than she'd ever seen in her life and her skin broke out in goosebumps at the looks some of them gave her; predatory, lustful ones that raked from head to toe. Suddenly, her heartbeat felt horribly obvious as the blood pumped beneath a thin layer of skin and Elliot hunched her shoulders, pulling the worn leather jacket more closely around her frame.
"Where the hell are you?" she mumbled to herself, looking around with frantic eyes. Morgan wasn't anywhere obvious; not on one of the dancing stages, nor at the bar, nor in the toilets, and Elliot was dialling the number to call her when a familiar flash of blonde hair caught her attention. Morgan was up on a dais that Elliot wasn't sure how she'd missed before, sitting at the feet of the blond vampire atop the throne in the middle of it, looking only vaguely interested as her friend offered herself to him.
Swearing furiously under her breath, Elliot began forcing her way through the crowd, gritting her teeth as hands found their way to places on her body she'd rather they not; much as she'd like to turn around and punch the creeps in the face, Morgan had to take priority. Particularly as the blond vampire had started to pay a little more attention to her now.
"Morgan!" she gasped upon finally breaking through the crowd. A couple of people turned to look at her, thinking she was about to offer herself to the arrogant-looking git on the throne and wondering how he'd react, but Elliot didn't even spare him a glance. "Come on, time to go." Wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist, Elliot heaved her to her feet and pulled the weight against her hips so she wouldn't fall over with it.
"Elliot? What? No, I wanna stay here – look he's a god he's gonna...he's gonna drink from me," Morgan breathed, alcohol stained breath making Elliot feel slightly dizzy. She cringed at the memories it summoned, pushing them roughly way; now was not the time to be thinking about Michael.
"Well I'm sure the vampire will manage," she muttered, taking a difficult step with the added load (which was made no easier as Morgan, drunk as she was, planted her feet firmly on the ground).
"Maybe he won't," a smooth voice spoke from in front of them and Elliot pulled up, staggering with Morgan's weight as the blonde let out a giggle and allowed her knees to give way slightly.
"Uugh," Elliot groaned, taken by surprise before she straightened her spine, struggling to keep Morgan by her side as she leaned towards the vampire. "Sorry," the brunette directed at him, glancing up into his face. Christ he was tall; it definitely didn't do anything to lessen the utterly terrifying image he somehow presented, despite being dressed quite normally. In fact he was wearing much the same clothes as Elliot herself; jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket. "I'm sure you'll find someone else willing to open their...uh..." She'd been about to say legs but she supposed it was a little different when the guy in question was after blood. "Wrists," Elliot finished lamely, making a face. "We have to go."
She moved to take another step but very suddenly a cold hand had her arm in a vice-like grip and the vampire was smiling in a perfectly threatening way. "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear," he started, making it quite obvious that he felt this was not the case. "I would very much like for you to offer me your wrist." These last words were spoken very clearly and in a voice that was several notes deeper than the one he'd used just now. Elliot blinked, pulling her gaze away from eyes bluer than the Greek ocean.
"Oh, well, that settles it then," she said sarcastically. "Guess I'll just become a fangbanger since you've made such a convincing argument." Elliot rolled her eyes and tugged on Morgan. Honestly, who did these vampires think they were? Did he genuinely think that just because he'd told her he'd like some damn blood she was going to fall at his feet and offer it? This time, the vampire let them go, though Elliot felt something brush against her butt. Deciding to ignore that, she headed very determinedly for the exit, already exhausted from carting Morgan, who was becoming more of a dead weight with every step.
They paused outside so Morgan could throw her guts up in a bush while Elliot waited patiently, leaning against the wall and lighting a cigarette as her friend groaned. "Serves you right," she said dispassionately, flicking the match away. "We had an agreement – no guys for like, a year." Not after the disastrous relationships the two of them had both found themselves in of late; Elliot still bore the scars of her months with Michael, a particular brand of arse-hole the depths of hell were reserved for. As such, neither of them noticed as the vampire who'd been on the entrance disappeared inside, and they didn't hear a word of the conversation that passed between her and the blond vampire who was now sitting on his throne, twirling Elliot's ID through his fingers.
Author's Note: So there you have it, the first chapter. I'm not entirely sure where this is going so if you have any ideas or if there's anything you'd like to see, let me know and I'll do my best to accomodate. Thanks for reading!