Not the Right Shade

A Bundle of Feelings

Demetri slammed the door closed, startling Cyril.

"Dude, what the hell?"

Demetri opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but his attention was caught by Cyril's attire.

"Is there a reason you're wearing those rags again?"

The ginger rolled his eyes. "I don't like suits." He answered, swiping the glass of blood from the guard.

Demetri huffed and crossed his arms. "It wouldn't kill you to dress the part of a Volturi while your here." The Grecian replied haughtily.

Cyril tipped the glass down his throat, the deep crimson liquid disappearing. Once finished, the ginger turned to reply to his companion, a thin trail of blood running down the corner of his mouth.

"You're right, it wouldn't kill me." Demetri's victorious smirk was short lived though. "Mostly because I'm already dead." Cyril shoved the decorative chalice back into the guard's hands and turn to sit in the bed. "Is there a reason as to why you're lingering here?"

"I've told you I'm rather fond of you." The ashy blond replied, leaning over to wipe the blood off the ginger with his thumb. He moved to the door and leaned against it, licking off the bitter liquid. "Your creator's here, by the way." The guard said nonchalantly.

Cyril acquired a peculiar look, a cross between joy and dread. "Carlisle? What's he doing here?"

Demetri shrugged. "Something about Sybil. He is a doctor you know. But she's not in her room, so they're going to look around for her I guess." He said nonchalantly.

Cyril stiffened. Nicholas-Bradley's vision was still instilling tremors of fear through him. Demetri noticed the strained action.

"Has something happened." The Grecian asked concerned. "Was it Felix? I know you were with him earlier."

"It wasn't Felix, it was that baby tyrant!" Cyril cried, throwing himself flat on the bed, the palms of his hands digging into his eyes in frustration.

Demetri scrunched his face in thought.

"Baby tyrant?"

---

Sophia walked along the field in bliss. The final resting place of her ever-hated Hansen. That newborn left nothing to be recovered. Every drop of blood, devoured in a ravenous, starved raze. And silly Sybil was more than willing to eat after all that time starving. Shame that Cyril left, though, running to God knows where and missing all the fun. It might have been for the better, though. The ginger was so attached to the little newborn; hell, the girl had more Cyril in her than Sophia. Watching the small girl die slowly would have driven him mad.

Oh well.

But the wrench in her plans were Nicholas-Bradley being caught. The idiot got a big head and bit off more than he could chew. Now she was down a whole army, and she might be discovered by the Volturi.

Ugh, those bastards.

---

Sybil was woken up by a loud and prolonged squeal. She shot up, eyes wide and senses fuzzed from the sudden consciousness. The first thing she saw when her vision came into focus was a dark bedspread. Not hers, and certainly not Jane's.

"... This isn't where I fell asleep." She said, a little shocked.

Sybil quirked her head to the side, where the offending noise that woke her up came from. It was the twins, Alec looking uncomfortable and Jane having the widest smile Sybil had ever seen on her.