I looked toward where he was looking and saw a short robot pulling Escalate out of some rubble. The short robot seemed like a basic engineering robot, except this one has wheels, a small fridge-like body, and arms that looked homemade. But what truly made this robot unique was its red eye. Robots with red eyes usually mean that it either malfunctioned, rebelled against its creator, or gained a conscious or a soul.

The robot looked over at us, and a black cloud floated over its head, then words began to form in blue color. “No, but we should have some in the storage.”

“I'm pretty sure I had already packed it in the bag,” The Beast yelled.

“Well, if you don’t want her to die, then you better get moving.”

“Fine,” The Beast sighed. “Will you be okay down here?”

“Yeah,” The Robot said as he leaned Escalate against a large piece of rubble. “I’ll try and repair him right here. Most of his pieces just popped right off, so it will be much easier than finding new parts for him.” He then took out a drill and picked up Escalate’s arm.

“Alright then,” The Beast began carrying me away. I still had my hand in my bag, gripping a potion just in case he tried to make a move, but the only thing he did besides walking was looking up at the hole in the ceiling.

I began to examine the area I was in out of curiosity, and all I could see was trash and rubble everywhere. There were also some objects lying around that would seem like a child would play with to pass the time. Like a poorly made wooden dummy, a poorly made target with a spear planted far outside of the bullseye, a bunch of weird contraptions and items that looked like they were made by a poor craftsman.

“Are you ok?” The Beast said, knocking me out of my daze.

“Umm,” I said while thinking of a smart response. “What would you do if I said yes.”

“I would drop you,” he answered plainly.

“Oh, then no,” I responded as I looked up at him. “So what do you have planned for me.”

“To patch you up and stop the bleeding.”

“No, I'm talking about after that.”

“Finish packing me and my brother’s things.” He answered as he stepped over a small trash pile.

“Your brother?” I asked, in shock. “You mean the dwarf robot that looks like he was put together with scrap, bubble gum, and hope, with a side of prayer?”

The Beast looked down at me with a look I couldn’t decipher, then he finally settled on an answer. “Yes.”

He continued to carry me in silence, which was nerve-racking and had me itching to try to do a hit and run.

What does his shack look like? Does it have arms and legs on the wall? Maybe that’s where they hold all the people they have captured over the years. Should I smack him over the head now?

“Alright, we made it,” he announced. I looked forward and was shocked at how small and junky it was. The shack was made out of trash and scrap from every type of material.

Is that a bolder underneath it to keep it leveled?

“Wow, this place looks like crap,” I said blankly.  

“Are you gonna diss everything you see?” The Beast sighed as he walked towards the door of the shack. I looked to the right and saw some kind of sleigh with wheels and some kind of weird engine in the front of the hood with a coffin resting in the back seat.

The Beast then opened the door, and the place somehow looked smaller on the inside. There were only 3 rooms that were really close together, and there was barely any room for 2 people to walk in side by side, so thankfully he was carrying me.

The Beast walked to the room on the left and was immediately met with a makeshift bed that was made out of a very old mattress and a sleeping bag. He gently placed me down on the bed, then turned around and walked right back outside.

The room was small, with barely enough room to hold the bed and a dresser. The dresser had a large battery connected with 2 other batteries that I guess would belong to the Beast’s robot brother. But besides that, nothing in this room has anything dangerous or evil in here. If anything, this is just evidence that those two have been down here for a long time.

But why?

I shook my head and locked back into the task at hand as I reached into my bag for a specific potion. I pulled out a red vial. The red vial is filled with Lycan blood. Lycan blood is commonly used for healing potions and blood bags when properly mixed. But due to me being a vampire, any type of blood will heal my wounds.

The withdrawals are going to suck later, though. 

I opened the mouth of my mask and tasted the sweet, fulfilling taste of blood, not caring about the repercussions that will take place in about 10 hours. After I got done, I let out a sigh of relief as I opened my eyes and looked back toward the doorway only to see The Beast sitting right next to me.

My heart skipped a beat along with my breathing, but my body stayed in place, possibly due to the exhaustion and wounds.

“Did  you drink blood?” he asked while holding a med kit with most of the paint scratched off of it.

“Yeah,” I said, hoping the shock was well hidden from my voice. “I'm a vampire, so the blood should help me heal.”

The Beast grunted as he put the med kit in the dresser next to the batteries. He then slowly reached over me and grabbed the small piece of metal that’s still in my arm, which entirely slipped my mind. “Then I guess it’s best if we pull this then.” He then looked down at me. “Do you want to count to 3 or something.”

“Yeah,” I agreed nervously. “Alright, 1-.” The Beast then yanked it out of my arm and threw the piece of metal over his shoulder.

I looked at him in anger as I gritted my teeth through the pain. “What happened to 2 and 3, dummy?” I hissed at him.

“2-3,” he replied as he adjusted his small little self so he could rest his back on the dresser.

I smacked my teeth at him and lay back on the makeshift bed, which is strangely comfy despite the material it’s made of. We just sat there in silence, with the only sound I could hear being the batteries charging on the dressers somehow.

“Those batteries are going to explode one day,” I said, turning towards him.

“Yeah, I’m counting on it,” The Beast grunted. “I had a plan one day that we could use one of them as a grenade if we slightly broke one of them and threw them at a wall. It worked, but a piece of metal hit me in the shoulder.” He tapped his right shoulder. “One of the best experiments we ever did.”

“Alright, Pazzo,” I slightly laughed. “So, why am I here?”

“Because you needed medical attention.”

“No, I meant why did you guys set up that trap that leads down here?”

He then turned towards me and gave me a look of confusion. “We didn’t set any traps up there. Matter of fact, we’re trapped down here.”

“You’re trapped down here?” I shook my head as I reached inside my bag. “Then who set that trap, and put this stone inside of a piggy bank?” I pulled out the Black stone that radiated unusual energy.

Pazzo looked down at it and slowly touched it with his finger. “They put something like this inside of a piggy bank?” He let out an amused grunt. “Maybe I should have kept mine.”

I scratched my head as I put the stone down on my lap, then took a breather before I asked my next question. “So you said you and your brother have been trapped down here. For how long have you two been trapped down here?”

“I’ve been trapped down here for 7 years, while Roby has been here for 5 years.” He answered simply, without a hint of expression except blankness.

“7 years!” I shouted in shock. “You’ve both been in this dusty place for 7 years. Hasn’t anyone else found you down here?”

“I mean other things have been down here besides you,” Pazzo answered as he lifted up his strange blood-wooden sword. “But most of them either wanted to kill me, possess me, eat me, and brutally maim me for no reason.” He grunted again. “So mostly undead and other hostile creatures.”

“Wow,” I said simply. I then moved on to a different question. “So… what’s your name?”

“Nigiel Von Keth,” he answered.

“Nigiel,” I said to myself, then shook my head. “Eh, I like Pazzo better.”

Pazzo grunted, then shrugged. “Whatever, anyways. What’s yours?”

“Sebrisha Walkens,” I answered.

Pazzo grunted again as he leaned forward and used the butt of his sword as a headrest. “So, Sebrisha, if you don’t mind me asking. What’s with the suit? I see that it’s not a gas-type suit, due to the fact that you weren’t worried about it being penetrated by that piece of metal.”

“No, it’s fine,” I said simply as I lifted my hand and took off my glove to reveal my very pale hand, which looks like it’s drained of blood. “Due to my unique vampire affliction, I’m extra sensitive to sunlight, and I can’t last that long in the heat.”

“Can’t vampires counter this by drinking blood?”

“Normally,” I sighed as I put my glove on, “but I'm a special case. No matter how much animal or human blood I drink, it’s like I’m never near full. It feels like drinking water to satiate your hunger.”

“Hmm. How long has this been going on?”

“Ever since I was born, so 13 years.”

“Your 13 years old?”

“Yeah,” I paused. “How old are you?”

“13, just turned it 2 days ago,” he answered.

“Oh, that makes you a month younger than me. I was born in July,” I replied as I began to focus back on him. “Well, I already told you what I am, so it’s only fair for you to tell me what you are.”

“I'm some type of mutation of a werewolf,” he said, pointing at his antlers. “And a deer, apparently.”

I nodded in understanding, we then continued to talk about things and experiences.