Snippet #2240697

Theo stuck his hands in his pockets awkwardly when he was done, missing his [bjacket[/b]. "So is this together right?"
"We'll know when we get to the range. Short of blowing up, it shouldn't be hard to fix if it isn't." Viktor nodded and crossed his arms. "How much ammo does it hold?" Theo moved his thumb to eject the magazine-Viktor grabbed the barrel and pulled it away from him. "You need to know without looking. Forty." He set it down and walked away. "I wish we knew more... If he was holed up somewhere, suppressed rifles could pin him in a building... Y'know, I don't think I've ever seen magic used before." Viktor thought about it and uncrossed his arms. Theo swallowed. "I-I have. Once, I think... I was visiting my uncle-he's got this farm or ranch or whatever out in Maycomb, Alabama. He wasn't born there though so don't think he's got more toes than he should-and well he was showing me his cows and stuff. It was boring and smelled disgusting so I wasn't really paying attention but I guess-"
"Can you get to the magic part please?"
"Eh, yeah. Sorry. So he left for a bit, and there was this cow. It got real still, and it was looking at me really funny. Like it turned its head on one side the way a dog or cat would, and its ears stood up-I didn't know that cows could do that-with its tail. I took a step back because it scared the hell out of me-and the it poofed. Just... gone. Minus the sound effect, of course. Uncle came back and though I hid his cow, made me stay at all night in the pasture to find it-he had them tagged and stuff so I could tell them apart. It was number seven-and I couldn't. I went back to where it was, and there was blood all over the floor. The grass died in that spot that night. Uncle hasn't let me visit him since." Theo shrugged.
"Some story. If I was your uncle, I wouldn't believe it."
"So you uh... y-you got any stories? Of monsters and stuff?"
Viktor shrugged. There was a lot of shrugging going on in the armory. Neither of them noticed the abnormal amount of hands-in-pockets and shrugging. "Well, where I used to live, in Sevastopol-"
"What, on the Crimean? Isn't that where..." Theo thought for a moment. "That's... Nosferatu, right?"
"That's the caribbean, Theo. Close enough. Anyway: Where I used to live, in one of the burrows of Sevastopol, there was a lot of crime. And well, I didn't know it at the time, but it turns out that a vampire or a group of vampires or something would bite gang-members, and then mutilate the hell out of them neck-up. Everyone thought it was just violent take-downs and hits or whatever they're called, which made the groups hate each other more, which allowed the vampire or vampires to kill more."