Cravings (STYLE)

10 POV: Kyle

TWs, 💥

It's a warm saturday morning, as Kenny and I walk down the pathway towards Stans house.

I've never been to his house before, so I'm kind of excited to see inside his room.

"This one," the blonde says, stopping outside a medium-sized house that looked just like the rest of them on this road.

I nod in response, and Kenny just opens the door and lets himself inside. I nervously follow, watching the boy close and lock the front door behind him, before going up the stairs with me trailing awkwardly behind.

The door to what I assume to be Stans room is slightly ajar, but within a second, Kenny dramatically swings it open, startling me.

I take a look inside Stans room.

His bed, messily made, is covered with a few photos I can't quite make out from my angle. His curtains are drawn, his desk rather organised, and a guitar propped up by his wardrobe.

Ooh, he plays an instrument?

Next to the door, a large cork-board with pins attaching pictures of many of my classmates - including myself - onto the surface, all painted over with coloured symbols, and red lines of string.

"Me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow as I inspect the board.

"Oh! Hi guys." Stan calls out, sat on his bed while looking over whatever photos were printed.

"Hey Stan. What's, uh... all of this?" Kenny says, signalling to the mess.

"Oh! Mine and Bebe's research. You just missed her, actually." The noirette replies with a proud smile, before his cheerful expression fades into a more somber one. "I, uh, I was busy last night."

Me and Kenny walk over to the bed, looking down at the pictures. My eyes widen in surprise.

"How did you get these?" I ask in shock, looking at each detailed image of my drained victims, their corpses mangled and blood-soaked, but clean around the dealt wound. I couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of satisfaction for the condition I had put them in.

"Stole them, but that's not the point. Look."

Stan points at the neck of each deceased person, pointing specifically at the deep bite marks in their necks.

"My best bet is to assume a vampire, and let me tell you why." he continues, patting the bed next to him for one of us to sit.

Kenny sits on the bed, a wary and cautious expression on his face. I stay standing, still stunned by the sudden gain of knowledge from the human.

"So, as you can see, all these victims have bite marks on their necks." Stan points out, tracing over the injuries with his fingertip. "Therefore, they were all bitten. The blood is mostly drained from their bodies, meaning the killer must've taken their blood. That's why I think that the killer must be some kind of... mythical vampire, or something along those lines."

Kennys expression merges into concern. "Wait, vampires drink blood, right?" he asks, as if he had no idea himself.

Stan nods, and I raise an eyebrow at what point Kenny's trying to establish here.

"So why do we think it's a vampire because the corpse has no blood? Maybe it was just stolen, for like, weird sexual arousing or something."

I cringe at his theory.

"See, I'd've thought that too, but, last night, when I was running back home, I saw something." Stan continues, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "The next victim."