#Dead body reported at scene along with crab leg

[yourcrazyboyokris]

Fun Animal Facts

Japanese Spider Crabs exist and they are after your left index finger

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [16]

Masterlist

~^*^~

~^nine months later^~

After you had buried Zoe, and you and Jack had tasked Renfield with properly disposing of Dracula’s body, moving on became a difficult task in London. It seemed that Lucy lurked around every corner and whenever you went off to work, you’d somehow find yourself looking amongst the towers of concrete and finding the window that once belonged to the undead Count.

The temperature dipped. Christmas came and went and when it felt like the year only dragged on, despite moving into a new decade, you decided in unison to move back up north. Instead of going back to Whitby, where even more memories of the vampire tainted almost every street, you decided to move to that secret haven you had visited so long ago.

Nine months down the line, Robin Hood’s Bay was in the climax of its tourist season. July was blessing the northern coastline with an abundance of hot days and blue skies and both Jack and yourself had secured jobs.

After the trauma of your dealings with the vampire, you both decided to hand your notices in at the Foundation and find more domesticated lives. They suited you well. Talking to normal humans, leading normal lives - it suited you both so well. You had grown much closer in this time. Jack had learnt to forgive you after Lucy’s death; you had grieved for the vampire man that had stolen your heart and had moved on.

Things were finally no longer dark. Life regained its magnificent colours.

Walking along the beach, parallel to the rolling waves, your hand brushed against his - an innocent mistake. The cooling breeze soothed your skin where the sun beat down. You looked left, taking in the sight of the families far out in the rock pools with their neon nets, most likely looking for little sea creatures to fish out to inspect. Every now and again, a small child would squeal in excitement at finding a dead crab and their father would laugh and explain that it had been eaten by the birds who had left behind the shell.

You then looked right, a soft and loving smile came upon your face. Jack wasn’t paying much attention. He was looking ahead (most likely at the two dogs currently racing for the tennis ball their owner had just thrown). To say that you were surprised at your sudden budding feelings for your old friend would be a huge understatement. You had come to appreciate him for all that he was - plus you suspected that living together (platonically, of course) had something to do with it.

Jack had somehow become your home. He was the only person who could truly say ‘I know what you’re going through’ and mean it. Something about having such an intimate secret with him seemed to tie your bond ever closer.

The walk on the beach lasted a little longer, before you silently agreed it was time to head back. There would be an influx of tourists soon and you definitley didn’t want to try and battle for somewhere to sit on the sand. Besides, standing up at the top of the cliffs gave a beautiful view of the sea.

Robin Hood’s Bay was infamous for its steep hill winding up from the beach to the top of the cliffs. It was hard to walk down without feeling like you were about to topple over and roll the rest of the way down, and it was even more painful trying to get back up. There was a searing pain in your thighs as you took broad steps to try and scale the monster quicker.

You could hear Jack’s laughter behind you at the ridiculousness of your walk, but you ignored him. Hopefully living here would soon provide you with thighs of steel.

The feeling of victory that overcame you when you reached the top was worth every second of torture working up that hill in the heat. You turned to see Jack a few metres away. He grinned up at you and when he made it to your side, he was gently panting.

“Well, let’s agree to never climb that damn hill in the middle of one of the hottest days again.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna dive off the cliff and take a quick swim after that.” You joked.

“Let’s get going. I could do with some lunch.”

Slowly walking, you made your way back to your small shared cottage. It was cool inside. You took your seat at the dining table, eyeing your leather sofa with disgust. You knew that you’d stick to it if you went anywhere near it.

As he made himself a little lunch, Jack flicked on the TV in the living room and turned it up so that you could both hear from in the kitchen. The afternoon news was just beginning. It was the usual political issues, a virus outbreak in Southeast Asia, another tragic stabbing in London.

“A body was recovered from the Thames river two hours ago after tourists spotted a floating figure in the middle of the water just south of the Millenium Bridge. Scotland Yard have just released a statement in the last few moments confirming that the cause of death appears to be the same as those deaths reported last autumn in Whitby and in London.”

You looked at Jack. He had frozen halfway through buttering his second round of bread.

“CCTV footage shows a man, as you can see, and the police are urging for anyone with information on the suspect to call the number on the screen.”

You leapt up, rushing into the living room with Jack hot on your tail. The image was blurry but you knew that face anywhere. Dear Lord, couldn’t he have been bothered to dress a little differently than usual?

“The lawyer?” Jack breathed.

“Since when did Dracula drink his blood?”

That was the first time you had uttered his name in nine months and you’d be lying if you said that speaking it didn’t spark a little pain in your chest. You missed him so much. You expected a text message or a phone call every day, until you reminded yourself that you had changed your number. Even if by some miracle he was still out there, you’d probably never see the vampire again.

That was how it needed to be. You needed to be safe.

Your mind began to wonder. Had Dracula been drinking his blood back in London? And if so, had it simply taken this long for him to turn? Dracula’s finest bride, it seemed, would never be seen by its creator. You knew there was more to that lawyer’s loyalty than just contractual.

“Thank god we aren’t in London, huh?” Jack mumbled and made his way back to finish constructing his sandwich.

“Yeah...”

You trudged back to your own seat, beginning to rearrange the flowers that day in the middle of the table.

That night, you seemed to have a fever dream. A hot, burning fire, and between the flames, a tall figure. It seemed unharmed by the licks the fire gave it and as you reached forwards, the orange forms split to make way for your appendage. Before you could make contact, it whispered your name in a distorted voice. It sounded somewhat familiar. ‘[First]...’ it hissed as if imitating the sound of the fire, ‘where are you, [First]?’

You tossed and turned as the dream began to die away and you spent the rest of the night in a dreamless darkness. The next morning, the dream lingered in your mind. When Jack promoted you to confide in him, you opted not to tell him. It wasn’t like any of it mattered.

He didn’t press too much on it, but decided that he wanted to try and cheer you up.

“Why don’t we go into Whitby for the day?” He suggested, “only if you’re ready, of course.” He quickly added before shoving another spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth.

You thought about it. You hadn’t been to Whitby in nine whole months. Truth be told, you missed it. But you couldn’t decide if that was because you also missed Dracula. You scoffed. You had to be the only person to have grieved for a vampire. Except for maybe Mina Murray - but she didn’t count because her fiancé had been human for most of the time she knew him. Dracula had always been a vampire since the moment you had met him.

“Nah, it was a stupid idea, right.” Jack supposed your scoff was of disbelief that he’d suggest something so utterly stupid.

“No, I think we should go. I’d like to watch the boats.”

Jack watched as an absent-minded smile took hold of your lips as you thought about the harbour.

Well, two hours later and you were sitting by the bandstand, facing away from the structure as you looked out to sea. The pirate ship that took tourists out to sea a little and back again was coming back into the harbour. Some children not too far away from you excitedly jumped and waved and the pirate steering the ship waved back.

It was comforting to hear the whirl of music from the arcades, to get a whiff of both Whitby’s famous The Magpie and Quayside fish and chips, to see the lighthouse, and of course, to look over and up at the abbey.

Oh, how you had missed it here.

“Should we go over the bridge? I’ll buy you a sugar dummy.” Jack offered.

“Sure, why not?” You shrugged and swung your legs over the bench to turn and stand.

You froze.

Standing across the road, outside of the RNLI centre was him. Your jaw dropped. You had to be hallucinating. It couldn’t be! The yellow tourbus whizzed past and when it revealed that side of the road again, he was no longer there.

“[First]?” Jack broke your absolute disbelief, “you alright?”

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