The vampire girl tossed the squirming earthworm against the wall of the grave, her face betraying a rare moment of discomfort.
"I'm feeling cold right now, Collins," she said, her voice low and serious.
Instead of lifting the remaining half of the cover shielding the alien corpse, she hesitated. A cold, eerie sensation crept through her, pulling her back to the harrowing memories of the spaceship.
"Are you recalling something unpleasant, Miss?" asked her loyal butler, Collins.
"Perhaps," she admitted. "The experience aboard that ship was far from ideal."
In her mind, she likened herself to an astronaut adrift in the endless void of space, untethered and vulnerable.
"Maybe this is how Krikalev felt," she muttered, referring to the Soviet cosmonaut who set the record for the longest cumulative time spent in space following the collapse of the Soviet Union—803 days, 9 hours, and 39 minutes.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced around the silent cemetery and muttered, "Hopefully, no one is wandering around at this hour."
"There's no need to worry," Collins assured her. "The timing is perfect—this is the off-season for death."
"Off-season?" she asked, puzzled. "Are there seasons for death now?"
"Absolutely," Collins replied with a tone of authority. "Human mortality follows patterns. For instance, fewer people die around Christmas because the holiday season inspires hope and happiness. People tend to hold on longer. But February, with its cold weather and flu season, is notorious for higher mortality rates, particularly among the elderly. It's a tough month."
The vampire listened intently, her curiosity piqued. "What about other months?"
"June and October can also be rough, though not as bad as February. August, however, stands out. Deaths are notably rare unless accidents—like gas explosions or car crashes—occur."
"That's fascinating," she mused. "If I had to choose, I'd prefer to die in August. A sudden end in battle feels more meaningful than withering away in a sickbed."
Collins chuckled softly but didn't respond. The vampire, now focused, inhaled deeply and pulled away the remaining cover.
The skeletal remains of the alien corpse came into view. Her eyes scanned the grave, and she immediately noticed something was wrong.
"One is missing," she said, her voice sharp with alarm.
Standing upright, she frowned and addressed Collins over the earpiece. "The worst-case scenario—it seems one of the aliens escaped."
"Are you sure, Miss?" Collins inquired cautiously.
"I'm positive," she replied. "I buried them myself. My memory isn't that unreliable."
"Could the creature in the state park have come from somewhere else? Perhaps it escaped from the spaceship carrier," Collins suggested.
She shook her head. "Impossible. That mothership vanished entirely. Do you think it somehow traveled through time and space into another dimension?"
Collins fell silent, and the vampire's thoughts spiraled. Was it possible that the mothership had slipped into a temporal rift during its descent to Earth, arriving millions of years ago?
Her arrival in the 21st century had seemed simultaneous with the mothership's landing, but perhaps the ship had transported its alien passengers to an entirely different era. The notion of time travel left her reeling.
"Miss Vampire Princess?"
The familiar voice of Tony Stark snapped her out of her thoughts.
It was early morning by then, and they were in the vampire's manor. She regarded Tony with mild disinterest. Despite his charm, he was not her type. His lean frame and lack of physical prowess didn't appeal to her.
Tony, oblivious to her lack of interest, adjusted his tie and attempted to engage her.
"I couldn't help but notice you were lost in thought. Perhaps I could be of assistance?" he offered, his tone confident.
"I was merely contemplating your earlier question," she replied coolly.
Tony had inquired about the ancient history of vampires. Unbeknownst to him, she was an alien vampire with no connection to Earth's vampire lineage. She found his curiosity tiresome. If he wanted answers, he would be better off speaking to Blade.
Still, she maintained her composure, reminding herself to project an image of kindness toward humans. "Kindness" meant suppressing her irritation and keeping her thoughts to herself.
"About the creature in Bear Mountain…" Tony began, launching into a detailed account of the murals he had discovered in an underground ruin.
He described how the murals depicted humans worshiping alien ships and the subsequent battles between vampires and extraterrestrial beings.
Her shock was palpable. Could she have been correct in her assumptions? Could the mothership have traveled back in time, scattering its alien passengers across prehistoric Earth?
If so, the ship she had lost in the 21st century might have arrived thousands—or even millions—of years earlier. The implications of such a scenario were staggering.
"Miss Vampire Princess?"
Tony's voice jolted her back to reality.
"Have you truly never encountered a story like this before?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.
"No," she replied, regaining her composure. "The vampires on Earth and I come from entirely different origins. However, I can recommend someone who might have answers."
"Who would that be?"
"A mysterious figure known as the Daywalker. Some call him Blade," she said with a polite smile.
Tony raised an eyebrow.
"Or," she added with a smirk, "you could always ask Spider-Man. He's the most elusive figure in the city and knows many secrets. If you can find him, that is."
Tony's expression soured at the mention of Spider-Man. Memories of their last encounter left him less than enthusiastic about seeking the web-slinger's help.
"Thank you for the suggestion," he said after a moment, regaining his composure. "On another note, there's a dinner party tonight. May I invite you to accompany me?"
She didn't hesitate. "Sorry, I already have plans."
Her rejection was polite but firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
Meanwhile, Peter, unaware of Tony's interaction with the vampire, was dealing with his own distractions. Clutching a lottery ticket, he stared at the winning numbers displayed on a screen.
Using Reed's algorithm, Peter was confident he would win millions.
As the numbers appeared one by one, Peter's anticipation grew. What kind of expression should he wear when he finally hit the jackpot?
-––-------------------------------
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