"Its hard to take in, I know," Eldery Wyck stated. "But, be assured, its the truth. Wyckhaven is home to all manner of people who are normally shunned by society. I've created a safe harbour for anyone who is in need of it. Which is why you have come to us, Bethalie Owens."

"You created?" she repeated, ignoring the comment about being shunned by society. He didn't have to rub it in.

"Yes, I created. I founded this town in the year 1792," responded Eldery Wyck, his expression completely serious.

Well, it was clear that the favorite pastime in Wyckhaven was trying to mess around with the newcomers. Even the school officials seemed to be in on it. Frankly, she wasn't finding their little game all that amusing.

Bethalie tried to keep her expression neutral, not wanting to give Elder Wyck or Zandy Babbitt the reaction they were probably expecting. "So, you founded the town..." she quickly did the math in her head, "...two hundred and thirty years ago," she repeated in a tone that blatantly stated she thought the man was full of bull, despite the fact that she wasn't trying to sound that way.

Elder Wyck looked pretty good for someone who was over two centuries old. Very well-muscled and vibrant. And, oh yeah, alive! Which would appear to poke a hole in his little story.

"Indeed. Wyckhaven and I have seen more than our fair share of history. Of course, I've seen more history than most," the man stated easily.

"Elder Wyck is going to be three hundred and fifteen years old in the spring. We're celebrating his birthday at this year's town jubilee!" Zandy stated with a measure of pride and as straight faced as if she was explaining that it was daylight outside.

Well, she had to admit that the citizens of Wyckhaven seemed really committed to the lore they'd created in support of their lifestyles. And who was she to speak against their choices and beliefs? However, taking in Zandy's beaming expression and the starstruck look in her eyes...she was slapped by the notion that perhaps she was witnessing something of a...cult...situation.

After all, would anyone who wasn't under the control of a cult leader really walk into a diner and order an 8oz steak served barely thawed or a glass of body temperature beef blood? She'd have to conclude the answer was no. She would also have to conclude that she was not willing to get sucked into some sort of idol worshipping sect, which would probably eventually lead to her having to eat the raw steak or drink the glass of blood just to prove her loyalty to the group.

Things might have been nearly unbearable back in Savannah, but at least Tad Somersby had never asked that she blindly worship and follow him. That was Heather's job.

Bethalie, abruptly making the decision to pack up and vacate the town of Wyckhaven post-haste, opened her mouth to tell Elder Wyck just what he could do with himself and his little blood soaked commune, but the man held up a hand, halting her words.

"I understand completely. You don't believe a word you've been told and you probably think your family has sent you to live among unbalanced people who seem lost in a fantasy world," he quantified, his tone sympathetic.

That was basically her exact thought. Maybe Elder Wyck had somehow developed psychic abilities during his three century sojourn on earth.

"It is all very far fetched sounding, having some strange chap informing you that you're a Witch who's been brought into an enclave filled with Werewolves and Vampires and the like. So, I will help you to understand just how very real a situation you're in."

As that statement was spoken, they stopped in the middle of the hallway and Elder Wyck focused on Bethalie, the kind smile leaving his handsome face and his clear eyes going completely cold. For a second, she thought she'd offended him and was about to be reamed, so she braced herself for it. She could take it. 

Tad had screamed and ranted at her daily. And sometimes, he'd done worse things than just hollering and yelling.  And she'd taken all the punishments he'd doled out without even flinching.

As Bethalie stared up at the pale man, she realized that his pupils were slowly dilating, growing bigger and bigger, until the inky blackness took over, blocking out all trace of color, turning his eyes into bottomless black voids...just like something out of a fantasy movie. Frozen, she watched his shimmering face begin to grow even paler, shifting color, becoming dull and ashen and sickly. Once the shimmering, pearl like quality had disappeared, it was only a second later that she saw the deep hollows beneath his cheekbones...then the dark hollows beneath his eyes. His lips lost all pigment, going completely grey. And then those colorless lips parted, revealing two very long, and very lethal looking, fang-like teeth that she was absolutely certain had not been there before.

The entire transformation took only seconds and happened right before her eyes, right out in the open, leaving no room for the possibility of it being a weird joke or any sort of slight-of-hand trick.

For an incredibly long moment, Bethalie's mind stalled and she was unable to see anything other than the...inhuman...face and blacked out eyes hovering over her. In the back of her thoughts, she acknowledged the notion that she should have been petrified...that she should have been running hell for leather toward the nearest exit...but, she was frozen to the spot, simply unable to move.

Everything was fine...

Everything was fine...

So...she'd been dumped off in a town filled with Witches and Werewolves and that had been founded by a Vampire. She wouldn't even try to ferret out exactly how Tad Somersby had managed to find such a town, but he had and she was now a resident.

It was all good, though. She was well aware that the world was full of strange and mysterious things. She could wreak havoc with little to no effort, could she not? She could deal with this. She'd managed to deal with...worse?

And there was actually a bright side. It occurred to her that in a town founded by an actual...Vampire...she might finally fit in. She might no longer be considered the freak and the outcast. She might finally...belong?

"Bethalie? Are you alright, my dear?" Elder Wyck questioned, his smooth voice now sounding thick and gravelly and...hollow. It was just the way a bloodthirsty creature of the night should sound.

She tried to speak...tried to let the man—was he still considered a man?--know that she was perfectly fine, only she couldn't seem to find her voice. Come to think about it, her voice wasn't the only thing missing. She couldn't seem to feel her legs anymore. What a strange feeling, standing yet not being able to feel half her body.

"She's going to faint!" Zandy gasped, her voice sounding far away.

Faint? That was silly. Normal, healthy people didn't just faint for no reason. That kind of thing only happened in movies....

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Bethalie's eyes snapped open and a sharp gasp flew out of her...and the first thing her bleary gaze focused on was the pale, handsome face and barely tinted eyes hovering over. A second gasp burst out of her and her entire body went stiff around her.

"Its alright, my dear. You've had a bit of a fainting spell. Try and take it slowly for a few minutes," Elder Wyck said, smiling gently down at her.

Confused, Bethalie lifted her head and glanced about, finding herself no longer in the main hallway, but instead in a large, dimly lit classroom. There were sheer purple curtains covering the windows and large pillows and bean bag chairs scattering the floor. The walls were painted with lovely murals depicting the moon in all its phases...and a very risqué tableau of several naked women dancing around a bonfire.

"This is the Meditation Room," explained Elder Wyck. "I thought you might recover more comfortably in here rather than in the middle of the hallway."

Meditation Room? That was probably to be expected in a school filled with Witches...and Vampires.

"Are you feeling steadier now?" questioned Elder Wyck, carefully lifting a pale hand and smoothing an errant curl away from her face.

She had no answer to give just then. She'd never fainted before. Was she supposed to be feeling better now or should she have been worse?

"Don't worry. You'll get used to the way of things before you know it," he assured, putting his hands on her shoulders and easily lifting her up to a sitting position, causing the room to spin around her.

Yes. She would get used to the way of things. One day. In the meantime, she would be sleeping with two scarves tied tightly around her neck. And a few cloves of garlic beneath her pillow. And maybe she'd ask Mr. Cuthbert to nail her window shut, just to be safe.

"Well, now that you're awake and comfortable, let us get down to discussing some of the mundane issues that our new citizens need to be aware of," Elder Wyck said in a very businesslike way.

Bethalie nodded. She was awake...at least, she was mostly sure that she was awake. She was physically comfortable, sitting on a large, plush cushion on the floor...though she was not exactly comfortable on the inside. So, yes, they should discuss mundane issues. She needed to think about mundane issues for a minute or two while her mind worked to absorb the fact that the shimmeringly pale man before her could turn into an un-dead fiend at will.

And that was fine. It was no big deal. So, Elder Wyck was a...Vampire. She could deal with that. She was practically an adult, only a few months away from that milestone, actually. She was perfectly capable of handling the situation in an age appropriate manner.

Elder Wyck cleared his throat and pinned her with a very frank look. "First, my dear, there is the vulgar issue of living expenses. You're family has set up a Trust for you, with myself as guardian ad-litem of that Trust. A small monthly payment has been allotted to the Cuthberts to cover your upkeep while you are under their roof, and you will be allotted a weekly stipend to spend as you see fit. Its a tidy sum you've been given, so with interest accrued until your twentieth birthday, when you'll have the Trust turned over to you, you'll come into quite the windfall."

Hmmph. Elder Wyck's words didn't surprise her. Clearly Tad was using his family's wealth to try and assuage his guilt over throwing his underage step-daughter out of his house. Yes! Assuage!

"Nextly, your schooling," Elder Wyck continued. "You'll have your regular courses throughout the day, but aside from those mundane studies, the students have a meditation period in this room, as well as a specialized work session which is dependent upon their particular talents. You, Bethalie, will be in session with others like yourself and Zandy."

Bethalie was not exactly thrilled with the term work session. It sounded...painful, for some reason. "What are the sessions for?" she croaked out in a dry voice.

"The sessions are a time for you to learn how to focus and use your talents to the best of your ability, and at will if that's necessary, so you'll be better able to walk unnoticed through mundane society, if that's your wish," came the explanation.

"Oh...I-I don't need a class for that," she politely declined, feeling uneasy. "I can manage on my own."

She really didn't need any training. She'd been living with her talents for her entire life and other than an occasional episode, usually brought on by extenuating circumstances, she was doing just fine.

Elder Wyck gave her a soft smile. "Well, just give the sessions a try. The work can be difficult, but the end result is worth the effort. Of course, if they truly do you no good, we can discuss an alternate class for you."

He was placating her. She hated that. But, far be it from her to argue with a man who walked around sporting deadly sharp fangs...fangs just made for piercing the necks of young girls who refused to fall in line.

"Lastly, and most importantly, there are a few rules that my citizens must abide by," said Elder Wyck, his demeanor becoming so intensely somber that she found herself wanting to shrink away from him. "Those who have physical talents, like yourself, are free to use them for any purpose they wish except to harm or control another. I frown upon my citizens maliciously maltreating one another and the consequences for such behavior can be...severe."

Bethalie nodded her understanding. Elder Wyck need not worry. She would not be using her talents to harm or control another person, ergo she would not be suffering any of his severe consequences.

"There are only Witches in attendance at this school, but I do encourage the different groups to mingle. This isn't mundane society and I want everyone to live comfortably and peaceably together. However, there are certain caveats, born out of a need for safety," said Elder Wyck, sounding dark.

Again, Bethalie nodded. Caveats. Right.

"We are home to a healthy population of Lycanthropes, Shifters and Werewolves among them. Its perfectly acceptable to socialize with our Weres, but they do get testy at certainly monthly intervals. They are very strong and volatile and could easily injure or kill anyone who's outside their own kind. Which is why a relationship with a Were, other than a friendly, passing one, is forbidden."

Bethalie kept nodding. Not a problem. Having a relationship with a Werewolf was off the table.

"As a last note," Elder Wyck went on, "our fair hamlet is a lovely place and meant to be enjoyed. Nothing is off limits to you, but for the woods at the south end of town. Those woods have been designated as a hunting ground for our Lyncanthropes. Its their territory and I can't ensure the safety of anyone who wanders in there, especially during the three days of the full moon. The entire area is well marked and there is no reason for one of your kind to ever cross into that area, but you have your warning and you should heed it."

All Bethalie could do was continue on with her inane nodding. Stay away from the woods at the south end of town to avoid becoming a snack for a Werewolf. Check.

"Well, I believe that's the gist of things. Have I forgotten any important bits, Zandy?" asked Elder Wyck.

"I don't think so," the girl answered.

"Zandy will be your companion and escort until you get your bearings, won't you child? You'll help Bethalie learn to spot the different sorts and help her understand our ways?" wondered Elder Wyck.

"Absolutely! I'll take good care of her!" Zandy agreed heartily.

"I do want Bethalie to be looked after," he reiterated. "I'll very much appreciate your help, though I do intend to see to her happiness and comfort as much as possible."

His statement caused Zandy to suck in a hard breath, which gave Bethalie a rather unpleasant sensation in the region of her stomach. She knew, without having to be told, that Elder Wyck did not often see to the happiness and comfort of the new citizens, but he was making an exception for her. The notion left her...unsettled.

"Now then, I believe its getting on toward the lunch hour for you girls," he said, sounding brighter as he held out his hand to Bethalie.

Reluctantly, she took hold of his smooth, cold fingers, which made sense now...and was pulled up onto her feet, again having her hand tucked through Elder Wyck's arm.

"Perhaps you wouldn't mind have a bit of company, Bethalie? I'm in between appointments and I can reckon that being seen with such an important figure as myself can only help your social status, agreed?" he smiled down at her, his nearly clear eyes twinkling.

Bethalie caught sight of Zandy and feared the poor girl was going to take a turn at fainting. "Agreed," she rasped, trying her best to smile back at the man.

What else could she say? She couldn't very well decline his offer. He had invited her into his town, probably saving her from winding up in some sort of hideous state run institution. She had to at least act grateful, which she truly was. And besides, she couldn't quite forget those long, sharp bicuspids that had sprouted from out of nowhere. She wasn't yet brave enough to risk offending the man sporting those deadly looking, needle-like teeth.

As the noon bell rang out, the harsh and unexpected racket jangling her nerves so that she jumped, she was led out of the Meditation Room, down a small white hallway, and then down a long flight of stairs that led back to the main hall, which was swiftly filling up with students.

Despite the mad dashing and loud voices and sound of slamming lockers echoing through the air, Bethalie couldn't help but notice all the stunned eyes staring at them and all the bodies moving aside to give them a wide berth. Obviously, having Elder Wyck walking amongst them was not something the students of Wyckhaven High were used to. And she could blatantly see by all the shocked expressions and open mouths that the students most definitely weren't used to seeing Elder Wyck personally escorting one of their peers through the halls.

Truly, she wished the man was escorting anyone but herself. She didn't particularly want the added heat. Being the new girl was bad enough in and of itself.

She and Zandy were shepherded down the Senior Corridor and out the door at the end. A covered breezeway led to a small, square building made entirely of glass and through the glass she could see all the standard things, round lunch tables filling up with kids, a sizeable line waiting to get their trays, and a massive salad bar sitting in the very center of the space.

As Elder Wyck opened the glass door, they walked into a wall of noise and food smells, which weren't exactly appetizing at the moment, and made it all of five steps before a wave of silence rippled over the entire room and all eyes turned toward them. Bethalie felt her stomach drop. Well, this was certainly going to do something for her social status. It was hard to say just what, though, seeing as how it was so early in her sojourn at Wyckhaven High.