chosehumanity | Center for the Study of Supernatural Activity, Bristol, Tuesday Evening

Once Mitchell had the name, the rest all fell into place. George had left him an emergency contact address a few days before Mitchell's... incident with the coroner and his resulting... dubious voicemails, which told him exactly where they needed to be.

When Eric arrived shortly after sundown, he and Bo were already set and ready to go.

He was going to find Lucy and get George and Annie the hell out of her claws. Beyond that, Mitchell hadn't exactly thought ahead: he was angry as hell, and as far as he was concerned, there was only one way to deal with it.

Mitchell	Honestly, for a secret society, they had bloody awful security. Didn't take much to pick their way through the door, and the cameras... well. "You might want to stay a bit in the background, Bo."
Bo	"Me? I'm the one who's not gonna get burned if somebody tosses a cross at me, remember?" Not that she actually minded the background here, because the place was freaking... freaky.
Mitchell	"And you're the one who'll turn up on camera." Logic.
Bo	"Okay, point." Bo ducked back a bit into the shadows cast by the wall. "I can't charm a security system into forgetting it saw me."
Eric	"As charming as you are, no," Eric replied. He was in a wonderful mood--breaking and entering was fun!
Mitchell	"Right, so Eric and I take care of the lads in the security office, first," Mitchell said. He was in a bit of a killing mood.
Eric	"We'll be very quiet about it," Eric said. He recognized that look in Mitchell's eyes.
Bo	"What should I do besides stay away from cameras and people who offer to cure me?" Be glad that look wasn't as familiar to Bo, or there would be the tediousness of arguments, morals, and throwing Mitchell's words about it's still killing people back in his big broody face.
Mitchell	"We're going to shut down the security office," Mitchell said, "Fast as we can. Then you come after us."
Eric	"This will be much easier than the last time I broke into a compound full of religious nuts," Eric assured her. "They probably don't have anyone tied up in the basement we need to deal with." Wasn't he helpful?
Bo	So very. "Okay, I wait out here until you deal with security. Is now a good time to mention how ironic that is considering my new second job?"
Mitchell	"Probably not," Mitchell said. Then he was moving, stalking into the hallway like an animal with a mission. He wasn't checking to see if Eric was following.
Eric	For a man as large as Eric was, he could move very quickly and silently when it suited him to, and he followed Mitchell closely.
Mitchell	One corner rounded, and there was the first flunkie, all dressed in black and looking like something yanked from an altar boy film. The guy jerked up in surprise at the commotion-- and never did anything else again, because Mitchell was on him in seconds, tearing his throat out with remarkable efficiency. He'd always been a good killer.
Eric	Eric paused only to be sure the man's body didn't thump too hard on the floor, then continued on.
Mitchell	"Security office. Over here," Mitchell snapped, taking a quick turn into a room with walls made of iron bars. Another clean-cut youth sat in the chair there, spinning around rather suddenly at the noise. His eyes went big as saucers, and he groped for his Bible blindly.
Eric	Eric rolled his eyes when he saw what the man was reaching for. "My maker was born several years before your Jesus," he said, reaching out and yanking a bar, then another, out of the wall. "And as a bludgeon, that book will do absolutely nothing." He was pretty sure, anyway.
Mitchell	Mitchell wasn't nearly so good with religious artifacts, so he was pacing 'round the man in a circle, waiting for Eric to take care of it. The man - boy, really - clung tighter to his bible, and held it up in Eric's direction anyway. "I-- I-- for though I walk-- walk through the valley--"
Eric	"And the words really don't do anything," Eric said, other than remind him of the Fellowship of the Sun, which really wasn't going to improve his mood. He reached out with vampire speed and quicker than thought twisted the boy's head around. "There," he said. "What's next?"
Mitchell	Mitchell looked up with eyes still black and fangs still out, then cast a glance towards the ground. "Bodybags," he said, kneeling down to get a good look at them. "Christ. They've been pre-ordering bodybags."
Eric	Eric looked confused. "What do they need bodybags for?" Vampires where he came from tended to either explode gooey-ly or burn to a crisp.
Mitchell	Where Mitchell came from, permanently-dead vampires went up in a cloud of smoke, so, he wasn't too far off there. "Dead werewolves, I imagine," Mitchell said. If he sounded clinical and detached, it was because his anger had turned cold. He dropped the edge of the bodybag. "Let's carry on upstairs."