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Pretending	By : LittleMissDisaster Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of HIM. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Pretending
- 2-two
- 3-ch 3
- 4-ch 4
- 5-ch 5
- 6-ch 6
- 7-ch 7
- 8-ch 8
- 9-ch 9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 6
- 7
- 8
~*~i quite obviously don't own Rhino Records or Ck's, though i have been known to purchace their delicious lemonaides~*~

Davey sat up abruptly as his sidekick trilled somewhere in the room. Ville’s room. The man himself had rolled over and grumbled sleepily when Davey’s movements disturbed him, snagging one of his arms and pulling him back down, “Too early.” Ville’s sleep thickened voice caressed Davey’s ear, “Ignore it.”
Davey sighed and snuggled back into Ville’s arms. The phone rang again. He groaned, “That’s not going to stop.” He got up, searching for his pants in the mess, finally locating them as the only article of clothing that was vibrating to the tune of “Lovecats” by The Cure. He punched the send button, “Yes?”
“Dave,” it was his father, “what progress have you made?”
Davey’s head snapped up as he looked at Ville, “Hang on.” He said into the phone. He gestured with it to Ville, “I’ve got to take this.” He said and left the room.
Ville leaned back against his pillows, sighing. He thought about going back to sleep, after all it was only eleven o’clock. He decided he wanted to talk to Roxy though and got up, tugging on a loose pair of blue jeans.
He passed the living room on his way to find her and found Frank curled up on the couch, still clutching the wireless remote for the PS2.
Roxy was sitting on the porch watching the trees sway in the breeze, “What’s up?” she asked, turning to him.
He grinned, “Have fun last night?” he lowered himself down onto the swing.
She poked him, “About as much as you I would say.”
They swung in companionable silence for a few minutes.
“You like him.” Ville said.
She nodded, “Quite a bit. What about you?”
“I like him.” He picked at some fuzz on the leg of his pants, “I like him a lot.”
“We have to figure out who’s killing these people.”
“I know.”
“Jade’s going out to meet some of his friends in L.A. tonight. I’ll go out and take Frank.”
Ville frowned. He knew Roxy was perfectly capable of handling herself, but he didn’t like the idea of her going out by herself, “Alright. Be careful.” He put his arm around her.
She leaned her head on his shoulder, “I will.”
Davey walked out onto the porch a few minutes later, wearing his sweat pants without his shirt, “Oh, hello.”
Ville smiled up at him, “Hi.” He scooted over, inviting him to sit.
“Morning Davey.” Roxy said, standing, “I’m going to see if I can convince Frank to get off the couch.”
“Is everything alright?” Ville asked. Davey was frowning into the street.
Davey shook himself mentally, “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” He lied. There had been another murder last night and instead of being out and hunting the foul thing, he had been inside, having incredible sex. And another person had died. He leaned his head on Ville’s shoulder, “I’ve got to go out tonight and take care of some business.”
“Ok.”
“Do you mind?”
“No, why? Roxy and Frank were going out. I can hang out with them.” He slipped his arms around Davey.
Davey sighed with contentment. He was not looking forward to spending the night running around the city. He’d much rather be sitting here wrapped up in his lover’s arms, or even better in his sheets.
Suddenly Davey sat up, pulling away from Ville, “I need to, um, take a shower.” He ran off leaving Ville confused.
Never, in all of Davey’s years as a hunter of the undead had he ever not wanted to do it. He was on a mission from a higher power and nothing got in the way. Not boyfriend’s, not band business, nothing. This Ralph was already turning him inside out and they had only known each other a few days. He decided he would check out the lead Base had given him on an apartment rented to a dead man over on 8th street. A dead Korean man who as far as they could tell hadn’t been over to the states once in his life.

“What did you do with your apartment?” Roxy asked Frank as they headed out that night to check out the open mike night at CK’s Café (formerly NICK’S, but the new owner had taken the NI off the sign) where a lot of those trendy pseudo-Goth Hot Topic “counter culture” kids hung out.
“What do you mean? I left, most of the stuff too. I figure it will cover any back rent and cleaning fees when they sell the electronics.” He shrugged and fiddled with his lip ring.
“That’s a lot of stuff.” Ville mumbled. He was still puzzling over what had changed so abruptly that morning with Davey.
“So who are we looking for anyway? No one knows what this guy looks like.” Frank turned to Roxy.
She stopped walking and winked at him, “We’re looking for some other dumbass stupid enough to flash his fangs.”
He shoved her lightly, “Very funny. Asshole.”
Ville laughed, “How did that ever work?”
“Better than you could imagine, Ralph.” He stuck his tongue out.
“Leave him alone, Mr. Gerold Kim.” Roxy teased. She done some checking into Frank’s background and discovered the name he’d gotten the apartment under.
“Gerold? That’s almost as bad as mine.” Ville put his arm around Frank as they continued walking.
“Don’t blame me. Mr. Kim’s mother gave him that name long ago somewhere in South Korea. What?” he asked when Ville stared at him, “I can’t afford to have someone invent new people for me. I have to resort to identity theft.”
“We should do something about that. I’ll arrange for it tomorrow.” She waved away whatever he was about to say, “If you’re going to live with us, I want your identity as tight as ours.”
“Just think carefully about a name.” Ville muttered.
They passed through The Village and into the out of the way corner that was home to CK’s. Some adolescent white kid with dreads and a Che Guevara shirt was already on the mike reading poetry about the crisis in Dafur.
Frank groaned quietly and sat down at one of the tables out on the balcony.
Roxy and Ville went inside and ordered coffees, scanning the kids gathered. It was mostly hippies this early in the night. The tragic Goth kids wouldn’t arrive till after the sun set.
“Can I be Max Power?” Frank asked when Roxy and Ville sat down with him.
Ville laughed, catching the Simpson’s reference.
Roxy looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“I was kidding.” He laughed at her.
Ville patted her shoulder, “It’s from this cartoon that was really popular a while back.”
“Oh.” She sipped her coffee and resumed watching people as they came and went, trying not to listen to the bad poetry.
Ville tried hard not to wince at the kid on the stage and turned to Frank, “What brought you here?”
He looked puzzled, “Roxy said-”
Ville shook his head, “I meant to this town.”
“Oh.” He grinned sheepishly, “I don’t know. Seemed like a nice small town. College towns are the best, all those naïve coeds. They’re so tasty.”
Ville grinned when Frank smacked his lips mockingly, “How have you not been killed?”
Frank shrugged, “Just lucky?”
“You must be.” Ville turned his eyes to the stage as a girl got up with an acoustic guitar. She played mechanically, and sang passably about women’s lib.
“You know what I heard today on that oldies station?” Frank said, eyeing one of those tasty college chicks he’s mentioned early, “Right Here In My Arms.”
Ville almost wept. He hated that his music was considered an oldie. It made him feel every one of his seventy five years, “And you felt the need to share this with me?”
“Just thought it was interesting.” He tapped Roxy on the shoulder, “I know we’re supposed to be out looking for this horrible killer, but, I haven’t eaten in a while. Do you mind if I go… over there?”
“Sure.” She waved him off, focused on a man who had slipped into the café and was watching some of the dark children as they began to come in and the stage was take over by a calculatedly pale girl with long black hair, a Nightmare Before Christmas shirt and black nails reading poetry about cutting herself.
He was a little on the short side, with a baby round face, brown puppy dog eyes lined in black and black hair that fell artfully over one eye. He wore a black hoodie decorated with golden hearts with batwings and really tight blue jeans and was watching the girl onstage with an unmistakable hunger.
Roxy tapped Ville and whispered so low, he barely heard, “That guy in the corner.”
He looked as slick as possible at the guy. He nodded at Roxy, “I would lay money that that’s him.”
“What I thought.” She looked around and noticed Frank had already disappeared along with a pretty redheaded girl who had been really into the angry feminist music.
The act onstage changed to a kid with a guitar singing songs that were actually more depressing than the cutter’s had been.
The man Roxy had been watching got up and followed the girl in the Nightmare Before Christmas shirt into the parking lot.
Roxy and Ville followed him at a farther distance. They stopped short when they heard voices in one of the allies.
“You like to make yourself bleed?”
There was a muffled sob.
“Let’s see if you like it as much when someone else spills your blood.”
They ran into the ally just in time to see him toss the girl’s lifeless corpse to the floor.
He grinned at them, “I thought there were others here.”
They took off running, somehow the stranger managed to outdistance them and they lost him in a crowd of people coming out of Rhino Records.
“Shit.” Was all Roxy said.
Ville looked in the direction he’d gone long after he would have been out of sight, “Where the hell could he be hiding?”
Roxy sniffed the air, “We’re going to damned well find out.” She said and walked away.
Ville followed her, but smelled nothing around the people walking in front of them, “What are you doing?”
“Blood.” She said sniffing the air and taking a turn down a side street.
Ville sniffed too, and out of the crush of people, he smelled it too, the faint trace of blood in the air from the girl the stranger had killed, “What are we going to do when we find him?”
“Kill him.”
“Oh.”
The trail led to a park restroom where they found nothing but the hoodie that had a little blood on the sleeve. Try as they might, they couldn’t pick the trail up again and went home defeated.

~*~so, any guesses as to who the bad guy is? i finally got over the hard part, so things are probably going to start happening fast. enjoy!~*~md
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Pretending