Chapter 4 The Prophecy

The sun rose reluctantly, pale and weak behind a blanket of gray clouds, as though the heavens themselves were reluctant to start the day. Stella stared at the faint morning light spilling through the edges of her curtains, her thoughts still spinning. The world outside continued its normal rhythm; birds chirped, distant car engines rumbled; but inside her apartment, it felt as though time had ground to a halt.

She hadn't slept. How could she, when every time she closed her eyes, the memory of Adrian; his voice, his touch, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through her; played over and over in her mind? And then there was the pregnancy.

Her hands fell instinctively to her stomach, where an unimaginable life was growing. She tried to focus on the mundane details of the moment; the soft fabric of her sweatshirt, the faint smell of coffee still lingering in the air from the night before; but the weight of what she had learned refused to be ignored.

How was she supposed to do this?

"Still alive in there?"

Nadia's voice startled her, and Stella turned to see her best friend leaning against the doorframe, holding two mugs of coffee.

"Barely," Stella muttered, managing a weak smile.

Nadia crossed the room, setting one of the mugs on the coffee table in front of Stella before plopping onto the couch beside her. She tucked her legs under herself, her expression softening as she studied Stella.

"So," Nadia began, taking a sip of her coffee. "Have you figured out what you're going to do?"

Stella shook her head, wrapping her hands around the mug for warmth. "I don't even know where to start. I mean, what am I supposed to do, Nadia? Track him down? Tell him, 'Hey, remember that night we met? Well, surprise!'"

Nadia snorted, nearly choking on her coffee. "Okay, maybe not exactly like that. But you can't just sit here and do nothing, Stella. He deserves to know."

"Does he?" Stella asked, her voice sharper than she intended. "I don't even know who he is. For all I know, he's... " She stopped herself, biting her lip.

Nadia raised an eyebrow. "He's what? A serial killer or some perverted psycho?"

"Dangerous," Stella admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nadia leaned forward, her brow furrowing. "Dangerous how?"

Stella hesitated, her thoughts tangling as she tried to find the words. "It's just... the way he looked at me. The way he... moved, like he wasn't... It was eerie in a captivating sorta way" She cut herself off again, shaking her head. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just imagining things."

"You're not," Nadia said quietly, her tone uncharacteristically serious.

Stella blinked, looking at her friend in surprise. "What?"

"I mean, come on, Stella," Nadia continued, setting her mug down. "You told me how intense that night was. How he just disappeared afterward. And now, this." She gestured vaguely at Stella's stomach. "It's not exactly normal."

Stella's stomach churned at the word. Normal. Nothing about this felt normal.

"I just... I need answers," she murmured, more to herself than to Nadia.

"Then let's find them," Nadia said firmly, her eyes gleaming with determination.

*******

The rain had resumed, battering the streets like a drumbeat, drowning out the distant hum of traffic as Stella and Nadia stepped out of the cab in front of The Silver Fang. By day, the club looked less like the vibrant, electric space Stella remembered and more like a relic; a weathered brick building with neon lights that flickered faintly, their glow casting weird shadows on the wet pavement.

Stella hesitated at the entrance, her stomach knotting.

"This feels like a bad idea," she said quietly, pulling her jacket tighter around herself.

Nadia gave her a nudge. "It's only a bad idea if you chicken out halfway. Come on. If he's a regular, someone's bound to know him."

Stella wanted to argue, but she couldn't think of another plan. This club was the only lead she had, and if anyone knew anything about him, this was the place to start.

Inside, the club felt eerily empty compared to the chaos of that night weeks ago. The music was softer, more atmospheric, and the air held a damp chill that crept under Stella's skin. Only a handful of patrons lingered at the bar, and the bartender; a wiry man with dark circles under his eyes; looked up sharply as they approached.

"You two lost?" he asked, his tone curt.

"No," Stella replied, her voice steadier than she felt. "We're looking for someone."

The man's eyes narrowed, suspicion flashing across his face. "This isn't a lost and found."

"Please," she pressed, leaning slightly over the counter. "Tall, dark hair, sharp features. He comes here a lot. His name's Adrian."

The bartender froze, his hand halting mid-wipe on the glass he was cleaning. His eyes flicked between Stella and Nadia, his expression tightening.

"I don't know who you're talking about," he said flatly.

Stella opened her mouth to protest, but Nadia beat her to it. "Look, we're not here to cause trouble," she said, her tone disarmingly casual. "We just need some information. Anything you can tell us about him would help."

The bartender sighed, setting the glass down with deliberate care. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stop asking these questions," he muttered.

"Why?" Stella asked, her pulse quickening.

"Because you don't want to know the answers," the man replied, his voice low. He glanced around, as if ensuring no one else was listening, before leaning slightly closer. "He's not someone you mess with. He comes here every few weeks, same time, like clockwork. Doesn't talk much, doesn't stay long. But when he's here..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"When he's here, what?" Nadia prompted, her curiosity clearly outweighing her caution.

The bartender hesitated, his eyes locking with Stella's. "Weird things happen. Fights that break out for no reason, people disappearing like they were never here. He's not normal."

A chill ran down Stella's spine. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean exactly what I said," the bartender replied. "He's not normal. And if you're smart, you'll stop looking for him. Walk away, forget about him, and don't come back."

His words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Stella felt a wave of doubt. Maybe the bartender was right. Maybe she should just walk away. But the thought of doing nothing, of never knowing who Adrian truly was, filled her with an unbearable restlessness.

"Thank you," she said quietly, turning to leave.

"Don't thank me," the bartender called after her. "Just don't come back."

*******

The walk back to Stella's apartment was silent, the tension between her and Nadia growing with each step.

"So, what now?" Nadia finally asked, her voice breaking through the stillness.

Stella paused, glancing up at the sky. The rain had stopped, but the air was still heavy, and the clouds above seemed to press down on the city like a warning.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just... I feel like I'm missing something. Like there's a piece of the puzzle I'm not seeing."

Nadia frowned. "Well, we're not going to find it wandering around in the rain. Let's get back to your place and figure out a plan. Besides we can come back in a few weeks to see if we can catch him."

They turned down a narrow side street, Stella's mind still spinning with the bartender's words. She barely noticed the figure standing at the end of the alley until Nadia grabbed her arm.

"Uh, Stella?"

Stella looked up, her breath catching in her throat.

The figure was cloaked and in the shadows, their face obscured by the low light. But as they stepped closer, Stella felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity and more urgently, a natural fear of meeting a stranger in a dimly lit street.

She clutched at Nadia's arm, preparing to run.

"You seek what you do not understand," the figure said, their voice soft yet resonant.

Stella swallowed hard, her heart pounding. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The figure tilted their head, their features still obscured. "I am the keeper of truths you are not yet ready to bear."

"What does that even mean? Get away from us!" Nadia demanded, stepping forward.

The figure's gaze shifted to her, and Nadia froze, her bravado faltering. "Be cautious, child," the figure said. "The answers you seek may not bring the solace you desire."

Stella clenched her fists, forcing herself to meet the figure's gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice trembling. "Have you been following us?"

The figure reached into the folds of their cloak, pulling out a small, weathered scroll and held it out to Stella, movements deliberate.

"This," the figure said, "contains the truth you seek. But beware; knowledge is a burden that cannot be undone."

Stella hesitated, her fingers hovering over the scroll. She felt Nadia's nails digging into there skin, a silent plea to stop, but she ignored it. Slowly, she took the scroll, the rough texture of the parchment sending a shiver through her.

The figure stepped back and seemed to duck into a shadowed alcove in a nearby building.

"Wait!" Stella called, but it were gone, leaving her alone with the scroll and the weight of the warning.

"What is that?" Nadia asked with wide eyes, "Probably some junkie loot."

With trembling hands, she unrolled it, her eyes scanning the words etched in faded ink.

"Born of two worlds, an impossible child approaches. This child of union between living and undead shall tear asunder the veil of existence. The living shall walk among the dead, and the balance of life shall crumble. Chaos shall reign, and none shall escape its wrath."

The words burned into her mind, their weight sinking into her chest like a stone.

"Stella?" Nadia's voice was shaky. "What is it?"

Stella looked up, her face pale. "It's... I think it's a prophecy," she whispered.

Nadia arched an elegant brow, "A prophecy like in the movies?"

This forced a smile out of Stella. "Yeah. Just like in the movies."

"Probably some wacko," Nadia said grinning, drawing a grin from Stella as well.

*******

Thalor watched them walk away, still hidden in the shadows.

"What have you set in motion?"

Thalor turned to his wife, Seralyth, and gave a heavy sigh. "Only what is necessary."

"She won't survive what's to come," Seralyth said, still staring after the pair walking down the street.

"You don't know that," Thalor said with conviction, "The vampire comes."