„Ghosts, vampires and devils don't scare me. But a cruel heart, devoid of love and compassion is truly terrifying. The real monesters have always worn a human face”
~ John Mark Green

★   ★   ★

Yuki looked around to make sure no one was looking at them, then climbed on tiptoe and kissed Pierre on the lips while smiling happily. Yuki wore a gray leather jacket, a purple shirt made of a soft, shiny material, and black creased pants, plus black sneakers. Pierre, on the other hand, chose a cream-collored jacket, a plain white shirt without any decorations, and cream trousers, which were part of the jacket set. He even managed to contain the chaos on his head.

— It was a very beautiful day. Thanks Pierre.

— Trifle, Little one — The French replied adoringly, staring at his teammate. Yuki Tsunoda was a short Japanese with a lovely, young-looking face, a smooth, fair complexion, and a soft, not-too-large mouth that Gasly liked to kiss so much. Dusk was falling around them, people were in a hurry, and no one paid any attention to the couple in love standing at the back entrance of the cinema. Pierre pushed the black fringe away from Yuki's forehead with a tender gesture.

— Don't call me that —  Yuki pouted, making a face of a sad, cute little dog. Pierre couldn't help himself. He leaned in slightly to kiss the sad expression on his face.

— You know you're the loveliest, most enticing Baby the world has ever seen —  He said softly, squinting in satisfaction. He relished the moment, feeling so full of happiness. Once again, he thanked God and the angels in his thoughts for sending him this not very tall young man, who helped him find happiness and taught him to enjoy every little thing such as shared breakfast, walk next to him along the park, joint training and long, almost endless conversations on all possible topics. Yuki was like hearing his prayers to him: young, cheerful, radiant with happiness and joy, prone to pranks.

They heard the cat's meowing behind them, and it pulled them out of a pleasant state of intoxication as they looked into each other's eyes without seeing the world outside of them. Pierre looked back and, next to the large, dark green trash cans, he noticed an ordinary, gray leprechaun, which was not missing everywhere. He put his hand up, glancing at his watch.

— Oh my! But it's late.

— What time is it?

— Late — Pierre stuck his tongue at him playfully.

— Ok, I'll check myself —  Instead of checking his watch, Yuki grabbed Pierre's hand and read the time on his watch, mounted on a wide green strap. — Look, Pierre, I have something else to do in the city. I'll meet you at the hotel?

— So be it. I was also supposed to meet someone.

— Who?

— I'll tell you when we have a little more time —  He replied quite calmly, thus giving him a sign that he was not running away from questions, only the time and place were inappropriate for it. He realized that one day he would have to tell him the truth about himself and who he was. He really regretted that Yuki was just an ordinary Down-To-Earth, he would have given a lot for the boy to be one of them. Tsunoda had no idea about the world his boyfriend was such an important part of.

„You can't have it all“ — He thought dismissively.

— Will you order me something delicious for dinner? —  He asked, feeling his stomach tighten with hunger.

— Sure, whatever you want.

— Thank you. You're the best. Choose for me whatever you will eat yourself. I'll meet you in about half an hour.

— Of course. See you at the hotel then.

He stole a long kiss from his lips once more, before finally releasing him from his embrace in an almost dramatic gesture, showing him that he didn't want to part with him at all. He long watched Yuki walk away and finally disappear around the corner at the crossroads, blending into the crowd. Pierre was glad to get to Australia earlier than the others, so they could spend some time together. The man felt that with each passing day, with each smile of this boy and with each minute spent together, he was falling in love with him more and more and he was completely irretrievably losing his head for him, but it pleased him. It was like waking up from a very long nightmare and realizing that it was just a dream. This young man was always able to put a smile on his face, but also to annoy him properly, such as when they spent a few days together in a house rented by Yuki in Japan and Yuki forgot to set the washing or left unwashed dishes in the sink or even rearranged the products in the refrigerator which Pierre put in a strict order and didn't want anyone to change places. Their friends found such little quarrels very cute and congratulated them on a successful relationship in which they had been in less than three months, although many people thought it took much longer.

Dreamy Pierre, already imagining what their wedding and reception might look like, planning who to invite and where to seat them, didn't notice that something disturbing was going on around him.

— You're coming with us —  He heard a harsh, gruff, unpleasant voice. Behind Pierre, two men dressed in plain black sweatpants appeared. Their faces were covered with black masks, which people wore a lot these days, black, unremarkable baseball caps on their heads, and black rubber gloves on their hands. One of them came very close and put some metal object with a round end to the lower back of the Frenchman on the right side. The other man, a little taller than Gasly, stood in front of him and was watching him closely, or at least Gasly had guessed it, since he couldn't be sure of any, because the latter was wearing dark sunglasses.

— Why should I?

— What if only because  we have business with yo?. A very nice, profitable business.

— Ha ha ha, I wonder what? — Gasly was never fooled by the seemingly gentle tone of the one in front of him. The one behind his back didn't say anything at all.

— Find out when you go with us, we won't talk here.

— There is no speech. I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't know you, I don't know who you are, and I have no reason to go anywhere with you. I can call the police for this.

— I advise against — A little impatient thug snorted, showing the Frenchman the weapon previously held in his coat. It was a small 9mm pistol, quite popular. So these two couldn't come from the shadow world, they certainly were Down-To-Earth, but what tempted them to attack him? Pierre began to consider escape options. He looked around. They were standing in a dark alley, where only the faint beams of a street lamp could be heard, next to the not very modern building of the nearest cinema to which he had gone to with Yuki. After the movie ended and they decided to come back separately after a short conversation (Yuki said he had something else to do in the city), Gasly walked out in front of the cinema building and thought it would be nice to walk slowly down the streets of one of his favorite cities in Australia . Some of the drivers had already arrived at the hotel, some were still on their way, he and Yuki were the first to arrive, so they had some free time just for themselves.

— What do you want? — He asked, clearly smelling the danger. Or was it just the usual stench from the nearby huge dumpsters in the back of the cinema?

— I said: not here. We'll talk elsewhere.

Pierre wasn't going to listen to them. He scanned one of them from top to bottom, realizing that the attacker looked average: he was rather thin, there seemed to be no millimeter of fat underneath his clothes, and the muscle tissue was very thin, he should handle it with ease. Imperceptibly, he clenched his fist and delivered the blow, but it was quickly blocked. In response, he got a powerful punch to the stomach, after which he doubled over and fell to his knees, clutching his aching stomach.

— What are those numbers, Gasly? We come to you for peaceful purposes, and you greet us in this way? Not nice, very bad. When the boss finds out, he'll skin you. — The thug said cheerfully and laughed. His voice was thick, unpleasant, sounding like a rasp of metal. — Now are you going to be polite?

— Mhm — Only the French grunted, feeling the pain getting worse. He couldn't understand how such a little person could have the strength to deliver such a painful blow.

— Get up, mollusk. Let's go! —  The second bandit standing behind him spoke for the first time. His voice was strangely familiar and clearly feminine. Gasly was sure he knew this person, and he must have talked to her at least a few times, but he couldn't remember where or when or who she was. As he dared to look up, he noticed that the figure behind him was indeed more feminine than masculine.

„Who the hell is that? And what do they want from me?“

The woman yanked on his arm, forcing him to get up. Such a sudden movement caused another wave of terrible pain. Pierre grimaced, he thought he was going to throw up, he was already bending down to prepare for it when he felt a metal pressing against him under the rib on the right side. He looked over there and saw a pistol identical to the man in front of him.

— You wanna shoot me?

— Oh, I'd love to do it, but it wouldn't delight our boss, he wants you alive, he won't even let me play like I did with Dani.

She laughed.

In that laugh, devoid of mirth and rather contemptuous, he heard something very familiar, but his memory played tricks on him. The more he tried to remember, the more difficult the task seemed to him. The characters from the movie him and Yuki had just watched were appearing in front of his eyes all the time. The abdominal pain also didn't help with focus. Once he was standing reasonably erect, though still a bit stooped, the woman pushed him, thrusting the barrel of the gun tighter between his ribs.

— Go loser.

Loser. She called him a loser. Only one person called him that. He suddenly understood who was standing in front of him and only then felt the terror that overwhelmed him to the point that he fell down again, this time losing consciousness.

— I told you, he was a pathetic slack. Uh! We couldn't take someone more important? Gasly doesn't mean anything, it is Hamilton and Vettel who rule it all — The woman expressed her opinion, crouching next to the limp French, who in his clean, bright and tasteful clothes, chosen perfectly for a date, was lying on the dark, dirty and slightly damp ground, and a dozen centimeters from his heads gleamed in the dim light of the lanterns, tiny green and white shards of glass from alcohol bottles and a few cigarette butts.

— Don't talk so much, just wake him up, he's ready to die here. I also don't understand what this rat is for, but the boss told us to carry out this order.

— Now, come Jerry, what are you upset about? — The woman patted Pierre several times on the cheek before he slowly opened his eyes. -—Wake up Gasly, we really don't have time.

He obeyed very reluctantly. When he got up, the icy cold began to penetrate his bones, even though he was in Australia and the air temperature was still above 15 ° C. The right side where he had fallen was wet, and he was shivering in the cold like an aspen leaf in the wind. He was sure that even without brutal treatment from the thugs, he could get sick the very next day. When he was born, he was quite a weak child and fell easily to various diseases. Then his parents, also Night Hunters, decided to ask Lewis for help, who strengthened the boy with the appropriate potions and spells, but it had a price that his parents kept reminding him about, or at least until he told them that it was and yes it doesn't really matter because he is gay. Gasly was deprived of the possibility of having his own offspring, but he didn't care too much about it. He wasn't planning on having children.

A dull pain still pressed against his lower stomach with every step he took, but as a Night Hunter and Formula One driver he was used to having to overcome pain and other inconveniences. He walked slowly down the dark alley, where a plain black car waited for him, as he could tell from the four wheels on the tailgate, it was an Audi that had license plates, but Pierre had a strange certainty that they were fake. There was already someone behind the wheel, but again he couldn't see who it was. The figure looked male to him, not very tall and rather thin. He obediently got inside, taking the rear passenger seat. The woman settled down next to him, only now taking off her mask and showing her face.

— Go! — She ordered the driver in a harsh tone, starting with a screeching tire and blending in with the still heavy traffic on the nearby road after a few moments. Pierre analyzed his chances of freeing himself: he could have yanked the pistol from her hand, but then it would not have been possible without shooting, someone would have died, and he wouldn't have wanted to. Pierre was not a murderer and he never wanted to be, he was a Night Hunter, he was a hunter who hunted for demons, for evil spirits who attacked Mundanes, driving them crazy, forcing them to do things they would never have done otherwise, and sometimes too killing and nourishing themselves with the energy of life flowing from their puny, delicate earthly bodies. It was so easy to hurt them, destroy them, and kill them. Human children were to them like toys with which they played, and then, bored, took their lives, and abandoned dead bodies in all sorts of corners of the world. They were everywhere, they were drawn to those who had gloomy, hateful thoughts as their best food, just as blood was the best food for vampires.

Pierre unexpectedly remembered Lando and hoped Carlos would take care of him. The young Briton still needed a lot of blood, he seemed to be still hungry, and his attempts to switch his body back to the human diet often failed, because he still didn't fully regain his sense of taste and a lot of dishes were like eating sawdust pulp. . And that night Pierre was supposed to pick up a fresh shipment of blood for the boy. This worried him the most. He could only hope that Lando, concerned about his absence, would notify the others and they would go to help him. Yup! But when will it be? It was still fifteen minutes before the parcel was picked up.

— Kelly, listen to me, there is something I have to do for my friend or he will die. — He tried, looking her straight in the eye as if he wanted to hypnotize her.

— And you know I don't care? Whoever it is, I don't care, see? We have a business to do, your supposed friend is not part of it.

„Supposed“ friend. That was what she called him, which caused Pierre to grit his teeth in anger as he tried to compose himself. The pain was still lingering, and Gasly thought that the punch he had received must have been strong enough to damage something important. He hissed as his hand pressed against the sore spot. He didn't know the road they were taking, the windows had been darkened beforehand.

— Please! This is about Lando, I have to get his meds! At least let me ask Carlos to do it for me. Please, otherwise Lando will die!

Kelly just smiled haughtily. She liked to rule people, to feel power, to know that she could do whatever she liked. Earlier, she had nearly killed her then-boyfriend Daniil Kvyat, who had broken up with her but couldn't completely sever their relationship because of their baby daughter. Pierre had long guessed that Kelly was blackmailing Max with him, but he didn't know what it was. Perhaps it was about her little daughter, whom Verstappen loved as his own. These were just guesses, but he supposed that Max wanted to protect the little girl by knowing exactly what her mother was like. Max and Daniil had never been close friends, but Pierre worked with Dani all year long and managed to recognize him as an honest, if somewhat aggressive man both on and off the track. It was he who, at the end of his last season, in one race, led to two rather dangerous-looking accidents, first crashing into Grosjean's car and sending it into the barriers, which caused an immediate explosion of fuel in the reserve tank, forcing the race director to show the red flag, and after a restart, colliding with Lance Stroll, whose car turned up the floor.

— Okay, know my mercy, you can take the phone out and call Sainz, but remember, one false move and you won't get in a Formula 1 car for the rest of your life, okay?

— Yes, sure — Pierre swallowed loudly, feeling his throat tighten. He cautiously reached for his phone, unlocked the screen, and dialed Carlos. He put the device to his ear, counting the signals before the Spaniard answered, counting to three.

— Hello? Pierre? What's up?

— There will be a problem getting the medicine for Lando, I can't do it — He said without any introduction or greeting.

—What? But why? Isn't it your turn today?

— Yes, mine, but I can't, grab it, I was kidna—  He broke off mid-word as Kelly slapped her open hand hard on his cheek, knocking the phone out of his hand and causing it to fall to the floor between them. — Ouch! You're really psychic KELLY! — Her name screamed as loud as he could, hoping Carlos would hear it and it will alert him. He received a second blow, this time with the butt of the pistol to the stomach just above where he had been hit earlier. A scream of suffering escaped him that might even move a corpse, but Kelly and her companions were unimpressed. She picked up the phone and hung up.

— You naive, stupid bastard, do you really think this will help you?

He didn't answer. He sat hunched over, resting his knees on the driver's front seat, and with all his strength holding back the scream of pain that fell on his lips. It hurt terribly. He began to ask God to have mercy on him and let him pass out or even die. His cheek burned with hot fire, and Kelly's long fingernails hurt, it stung mercilessly. It felt as if he was about to spit his guts out. Then the longed-for darkness surrounded him and he stopped feeling anything.

— But he's pathetic — Kelly shook herself in disgust, wrinkling her nose as if some extremely unpleasant smell had reached him, though Gasly still smelled quite strongly of cologne and raspberries. Tiny beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Kelly didn't care. She had never liked Gasly, who seemed too soft and too gentle for a guy, and he talked a lot and loved gossiping almost like a simple country woman. She hated him back and forth from the start. Pierre never trusted her and tried to warn both Daniil and Max of her, but they wouldn't listen to him. Max always liked danger, took every risk, and many people were seriously concerned that it would end badly for him. He himself dismissed them with a dismissive wave of his hand, claiming that he knew what he was doing.

Kelly Piquet had been a badly mannered, selfish bastard ever since they met her, yet she knew how to wrap men around her finger and make them do what she wanted. Perhaps it was her beauty, Kelly was one of the prettiest and most attractive women in the paddock. Photojournalists always took a lot of pictures of her, and that's what she wanted. In life, she never lacked anything, and her admirers showered her with gifts whenever possible. She also had her own group of fans who were in love with her to the ears. She didn't complain, she liked her own lifestyle. She believed that she was born to be treated like a princess. There were rumors that she was physically and mentally abusing the servants working in her villa, but no one was able to confirm or deny it. Piquet didn't work even an hour in her life honestly and despised those who had to work hard to feed their family. She considered herself better, and treated anyone who did not have millions in their account with the utmost contempt. She was rude and rude when dealing with people, and she treated only the most important people who could offer her something useful, with mock respect.

After half an hour they arrived at the scene. Kelly woke Pierre up with another hard punch to the face and told him to get out. Pierre tried to move and immediately howled in pain, curling up in the back seat of the vehicle. He was holding back his tears. He wanted to be tough and strong, he wanted to show that you can't beat him that easily. He was a Night Hunter, after all, he had had to endure something equally painful more than once, but he felt that this time was different. He could have used a stele to activate a healing rune, but he didn't want to do so in front of this vile woman. She didn't know who he was, she didn't know anything about the shadow world, and he didn't want to risk telling her a secret. He could only take comfort in the fact that Kelly didn't see the runes engraved on his body resembling black ornate tattoos, or even the stele, which in her eyes was just an ordinary blue ink pen.

— Help me get him out, Jerry — She ordered, and Pierre felt a strong tug under his armpits, and a moment later he fell limp onto the cool asphalt pavement. — Come on, Gasly. Don't say you're such a wimp, I didn't even hit you too hard.

Whether he wanted it or not, Pierre had to overcome all resistance and get up from the ground. Only then did he very discreetly look around.

They were in some outback. In front of them, in the blackness of the night, an even blacker silhouette of the former factory buildings loomed. A thin but tall red and white chimney shot up into the sky on the right, slightly behind the tall building, illuminated by the faint, dull yellow light of the five lanterns surrounding it on all sides. Over the years, bushes and tiny trees have grown around the building, the asphalt has cracked in many places and tufts of grass have appeared there. A tall building of light yellow brick was connected to a slightly lower and smaller one, as if it had been welded to it. Behind them, one could see a fence made of concrete slabs with a barbed wire at the top, and it was deceptively similar to the fence of the ghetto or concentration camp where the Germans kept Jews during the Second World War. The gate they had driven through was huge, metal, and had just been closed by two thugs dressed in black and wearing "SECURITY" clothing. Pierre realized his situation was bad, but not dramatically bad. he would notify Lewis immediately, and Lulu would do anything to find him. The question was, how long would it take? And what was Kelly going to do with him?

He got the answer to the last question almost immediately when Kelly pushed him again, forcing him to enter the building, which was a choking smell of mold, rotten eggs, and hot, wet soil. The walls were covered with fungus, and moss had appeared on the dirty gray floor, of which little was left. The buildings must have been abandoned a long time ago. He heard the scratching of tiny claws under the stairs, probably belonging to mice or rats, the rustling of grass and branches, moved by a not very strong wind, the barking of a dog locked in one of the rooms, and apart from all that, only a deaf silence. He was taken to a cell that looked like a prison cell with bars for a door and a metal bunk for a bed, covered with damp salt water. The room was small and cramped, barely containing a bed, a small square table, a chair, and a toilet. Only one dim light bulb was used for all lighting. Kelly used her force again, pushing him to the floor and making him stagger and fall. She locked the door behind her, and additionally placed a padlock in a thick chain that encircled the bars. The room didn't even have a window.

— Now you'll wait here while we call the boss —  She informed him graciously, then turned and walked away, tapping loudly with her heels. She obviously wasn't afraid that Gasly would try to escape. Anyway, it seemed impossible. The walls, despite their age, still held up well, the steel in the door didn't even bear a trace of rust, as if it had been installed recently, and in the cell next to it he saw a tiny body, as if belonging to a child. He was dressed in dark blue trousers and a jacket of the same color. Pierre quickly realized that this was where the hideous smell of rotting corpse was coming from.

"Such a baby! What could it do to someone ?!“ —He thought with despair and growing frustration, sticking two fingers to his nose and breathing through his mouth.

There was no one around him. Kelly and Jerry were out of sight. He hoped they couldn't see him anymore. His heart beating, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, taking out a stele and a telephone. Kelly destroyed one device, but forgot that Gasly had been taking two phones everywhere with him for a long time. With his stele, he touched the inside of his left forearm, where the healing rune was, he traced it, and after a while a pleasant warmth and relief began to spread throughout his body, healing and strengthening him. As soon as he felt better, he immediately unlocked the phone and dialed Lewis's number, but it turned out that in such a place he didn't have a single dash of range. This irritated him, but didn't throw him off balance. He took a deep breath, drawing a rune on the palm of his hand, giving him extraordinary strength.

„Kelly, however, was stupid“ - He came to this conclusion when he managed to easily break the chain, and after a while he also dealt with the lock without needing a key for it. He got out as fast as he could. Looking around in all directions, he started running ahead, holding the video-enabled phone in one hand to have something to show at the Institute. He tucked the stele deep into his puffer jacket. Kelly saw the fugitive first, but then he had a big advantage. With violent force he pulled their driver from behind the wheel and took his place, starting the engine and pulling out onto the road he hoped led to freedom. The entrance gate he had seen earlier turned out to be only an optical illusion, created in the image of those in Hollywood productions. He smiled to himself when all he saw in the mirrors was a woman running and stumbling over her own high heels.

„Heels aren't for jogging, you idiot!“ — He thought and laughed. He had no idea where he was, but he knew that the closer he was to a settlement, the easier it would be to reach on his phone and thus find the route to After ten kilometers, when he saw no sign of the chase, he slowed slightly and, using a Google assistant, commanded him to find a route to the hotel which Google did without undue delay. Then he called Sainz.

-—You can cancel the chase if you sent one, I managed to get away — He said, and heard a distinct sigh of relief in response.

— Thanks to the angels, because I was about to call Fernando and Lewis. — Sainz responded.

— I'm glad you didn't. Listen, would you please gather our members for a conference in your room? There is something important I must tell you. I'll be there in twenty minutes.

— All right, it will be done.

— Thanks.

Pierre hung up, but then the pain he felt after the blow from Kelly returned, tearing a loud hiss from his chest. He grabbed the steering wheel, holding it with all his might and wondering how it was possible since he had used a healing rune. The situation turned from calm to dramatic again, and he just prayed to get there somehow.

× • × • × • × • × • × • × • × •

From the author!

Sorry to all Kelly fans! Well, someone has to be the bad guy, right?

By the way: how do you rate the chapters so far?

Did anything surprise you or was there something that you particularly disliked?

Let me know in the comments!

I love you,

~ Your Annie