MIKO

Miko Ojo learned to knit from the Fates. Her aunts taught her everything about threading and binding the universes, looping around until things were “just so.” It seemed chaos to lesser beings. Even gods found it confusing. But if there was anything that Clotho, Atropos, Lachesis, and Miko agreed on, it was this:

The worlds were not chaos. 

Oh, there were mistakes—stitches that might send the whole pattern careening. Fixing them wasn’t hard. You simply held the thread tight with the needle in your right hand, pulled back until—fwip!—you flipped the mistake to the other side. 

But if your mistake was several rows down—

If you made a mess of things across patterns—

Across ages—

Across worlds.

Then the work was harder.

Stitches would have to be unraveled.

And only the sharpest tool would do.  

PENNY

Penny examined her reflection, poking at her face, trying to see if there was something more wolf-like about her. Spoiler alert: there was nothing she could see, although the phone vibrating in her locker sounded like a growl. In fact, if she brushed her hand against the metal and compressed wood, she could pretend it was a rumbling in her chest and not her best friend calling.

Yes, it was shitty to avoid Alice, but what could she do? Their dynamic was all off. It was supposed to be “hot mess single mom” and “sharp-tongued best friend.” Phone calls were for Alice to bemoan some short-sighted emotional decision while Penny talked her down from the ledge. Alice was the dreamer, and Penny was practical. Alice followed her heart, and Penny followed the plan. And when all else failed, they had a bitchfest.

But now, Alice’s calls were full of plans—finally opening an art studio, getting Gwendolyn dance lessons, and paying off her debt. And this time, they were real because “New Boyfriend” was happy to bankroll whatever she wanted. He doted on Gwendolyn, took Alice to the library for dates, and cared about what got her off—which, come on. Was he some sort of saint? Penny was all for orgasms, but she and Anastasia didn’t sit around talking about their kinks like it was some sort of therapy session.

And Alice didn’t care that all the help she took from him was just giving him ammunition. To her, the admin of life was so painfully boring that she didn’t mind handing “New Boyfriend” the knife to stab her in the back, no matter what Penny advised. It was fucking ridiculous.

With an actual growl, Penny left the locker room and ran straight into an elderly woman with long silver hair whose scent screamed: “Werewolf!

“Are you Matilda?”

“That would be me.” She frowned, not bothering to hide her disappointment.

Penny introduced herself anyway, Pizzazzes didn’t let anyone know they were rattled. “So Anastasia told you about me?”

“She mentioned you were without a pack, and so far, you’ve made no progress in securing one.”

Something else for the list of things Penny didn’t know and Anastasia didn’t tell her. She tucked back a stray piece of hair, “I’ve been pretty busy. I’m a journalist. I ran into a wolf while chasing a story, and I’m sure you can guess what happened.”

“I’m aware of how often mortals provoke attacks, yes.” Matilda’s face tightened, “If you had taken up with werewolves rather than vampires, you’d have a better sense of these things.”

Heat flared in her chest unpleasantly. Penny knew she was fucking this werewolf thing up, but Matilda was rapidly confirming just how much.

“Membership is always open with my pack,” the werewolf continued, “It would take hard work, but we’d get you up to speed.”

Pizzazzes weren’t afraid of hard work. But Penny did worry about how long she’d spend at the bottom of the group. “Maybe we can start with the basics, and I can see about the pack later? I’m a fast learner.” She glanced around, trying to anticipate what they were about to do. “Are we doing some yoga or something before you tell me about my new diet and the full moon?”

“That depends,” the corner of Matilda’s mouth kicked up in a sneer, “Do you want to break out into a murderous rage and kill everyone you know?”

“What the fuck?” Penny stepped back, “No!”

“Then we train. Werewolves build up fury inside them—a rage we can’t control because it’s unnatural. To combat that, we have to wear ourselves out.”

As if summoned, Anastasia appeared at the bottom of the steps. “Careful, wolf. The holy mother of the occult would not take too kindly to your description of her supernatural gifts.”

Matilda gave Ana a look that Penny could not decipher—except to know that it was unfriendly as hell. “Wolves don’t take to your blasphemy, vampire. Have you come prepared to work?”

Ana popped a hand on her hip and flipped her hair. “Always. Shall we?”

BELLA

Bella clicked off her phone and returned to the bedroom. “Sorry, work thing,” she lied, climbing back into the bed and kneeling beside Caleb. 

She was surprised to hear that Mortimer hurt himself hiking; she’d never seen the club do anything more strenuous than carrying a case of McDillans down to the basement. Biffington started talking about how they’d been searching for a tree referenced in one of their books, but Bella tuned him out until he got to the part that concerned her: Mortimer would be recovering for another week at their summer house.

“I don’t have to go in for a few more hours,” she whispered, stroking a finger across Caleb’s chest, “Are you busy?”

He turned and smiled, “No. And I have good news. Akira and I wrapped up our case. Turns out, Johnny Zest is part-werewolf, part-witch—a special kind called a mooncaster. He’s also a murderer.”

“Excuse me?”

Caleb explained his case updates, blissfully unaware of how rigid Bella’s posture was growing. It was like he was so enamored of his own voice that he didn’t notice how upset she was. “I’m checking into the Alice Martin situation, but I don’t think she’s—”

“What the hell do you mean ‘checking in’? You and Akira decided to start working my case?”

“Well, I wasn’t with Akira I—hold on. Your case? Bella, this isn’t a contest. You’re messing with dangerous supernatural forces here, and I’m just trying to help.”

“Alice Martin is not a dangerous supernatural force! She’s a two-bit thief and my number one suspect for Eliza’s death. Salim said Alice was pissed when she found out about the affair and then skipped town right after Eliza was murdered.”

Caleb started to sit up. “So you did lie about talking to Salim!”

“I-I didn’t lie. I was still collecting information,” Bella sniffed, irritated at being caught. This was not about her hiding the meeting with Salim. This was about Caleb taking advantage of the fact that they were sleeping together and encroaching on her territory. Her mother was wrong about many things, but men writing you off as weak was not one of them. “I can handle this. I am handling it. And I don’t need you getting involved.”

Caleb jumped out of bed. “That is a load of bullshit. Of course, you need me involved. Your trusted source? There’s no record of him before ten years ago. His records are falsified. He’s a fucking vampire!”

“Are you insane?” Bella looked around for her robe. “Salim is not a vampire. He’s known Eliza since they were kids. And anyway, there wasn’t time to call you. I ran into him unexpectedly.”

Caleb shoved his legs into his pants, hauling them on up on hips with a growl. “Oh, I see. You don’t have time to call me for backup, but screwing your brains out on a rainy day? No, that’s not a problem at all.”

Asshole. That’s what he was—a fucking asshole. He and his stupid haircut could go to hell. What happened to his dark suit? No more mysterious coat and tie; now he was wearing boot-cut jeans and a holster like he was heading to a magazine photoshoot? 

“You know what?” Bella hissed, “This was a bad idea. Why don’t you relieve yourself of your ‘duty’ to climb into my bed, and we’ll just go our separate ways. And if you come across any more information related to my case, you can just send me an email like a fucking professional.”

“Fine by me.” Caleb grabbed his shirt and turned into a bat, flying out the open window. 

Fucking vampires and their fucking drama. 

CANDY BEHR

Run.

When Candy Behr was first turned, she was promised speed. “Vampires are fast,” the woman told her, “You’ll grow into your speed quickly. I can tell.”

“Because I’m special? I mean…do you think I’m special?”

“Of course,” the woman smiled. “Of course you are.”

So Candy tilted her neck to the side like a sucker—

—Like a dummy

—Like the desperate kid she actually was.

And now, lungs seizing, confused about whether she needed oxygen or just breathed out of habit, she was stumbling. “Go away, or I’ll eat you!” she shouted as she ran.

The first shot tore through her shoulder.

It slowed her, but it wasn’t enough to actually put her down.

Run, her body told her.

The second shot was an explosion of pain and color. Inside she was at war—her mind writing her off as already gone, her body twisting her flesh and flooding her with adrenaline. She smelled the magic trying to heal her, but she couldn’t control it. Sobbing, she twisted her head to the side. “You don’t know what I am! I’ll tear out your throats!”

It was an empty threat. Candy could barely manage to feed herself, let alone tear out someone’s throat. She had strength and speed and no training. Most of her life was spent hiding from stronger vampires and watching daytime TV while her sister went to school. She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds around her, praying silently that her pursuers didn’t know about Yuki. Above her, the men chuckled.

“She seems subdued,” one of them squeaked, “I don’t think we have to hurt her.”

“Do vampires even feel pain?” another asked. His voice sounded familiar, but Candy couldn’t place it. She groaned, regretting every decision that led to this moment.

The Behr sisters were broke runaways before Candy became a vampire, and nothing changed after she got sharper teeth. She couldn’t hold a job and had no idea how to feed efficiently. Hell, she couldn’t stop herself from speed-running everywhere and passing out. Vampirism wasn’t sexy; it was energy regulation. And by the time her Maker showed up in Brindleton Bay, Candy was tired of trying to figure it out. She invited the woman back to the house, her first—and now probably last—mistake.

“Yuki doesn’t want to be a vampire!” she yelled at the woman who called herself Miko.

“Oh, Candy,” Miko bared her fangs, but it was not a smile. “Being a vampire is not Yuki’s future.”

“But your future?” She spun Candy around, knocking her to the floor before she pressed a dagger to her throat. “Your future is already set. And it’s my job to make sure you meet it.”

“W-we should put her in the trunk,” the first man said, pulling Candy out of her thoughts. “Young vampires can’t survive in the daylight.”

PENNY

Penny was not out of shape. She ran and worked out regularly. In college, she’d even played varsity soccer. But training was hard. It kicked her ass.

Or rather, Anastasia did.

The vampire was merciless in their sessions, while Matilda made it clear that Penny was failing to sweat out her rage. The whole process only served to make her more angry, not less. 

Maybe it would be easier if Ana wasn’t so gleeful about the whole thing. She smiled and winked whenever she flipped Penny onto her back like the two were flirting instead of fighting. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Penny shouted after a particularly rough session. “Are you pissed at me? Is that why you’re trying to kill me?”

“Kill you?” her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “What in the occult are you talking about? I’m not trying to kill you. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Penny bit back a scream. “Dramatic?”

“Yes,” the vampire rolled her eyes. “If I wanted to kill you, Penny, you’d be dead. We’re merely playing. Now, if you want a chance at putting me on my back, you’ll need to shorten your stance. You’ll never be faster than me, but you can anticipate where I’ll need to land to hit you, so just step slightly outside the pocket and use it to pin me.”

Un-fucking-believable! Penny clenched her jaw and turned on her heel. “Fuck this. I’m done.”

“Done?” Ana called after her, “What do you mean done? We just started. Don’t be ridiculous!”

The fury inside Penny was building so quickly that she felt dizzy with it. She didn’t trust herself to turn around.  

You’re being ridiculous. Her sister used to say that every time she kicked Penny on the ground during soccer practice. Their parents enjoyed fostering competition between the girls, which Penny often lost because she wasn’t good enough. Maybe she was being ridiculous, but she didn’t need that thrown in her face.

Ana was waiting by the locker room when Penny got downstairs. “If you’re done with training, we can go to dinner. Or better yet, skip dinner and go straight to dessert.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Penny asked incredulously. “After you beat the ever-living shit out of me, now you want to act like I’m your lover?”

“I…” Ana glanced around warily, “Yes?”

“You can’t tell I’m upset?”

“Of course, I can; I’m not blind,” she folded her arms, but a look of confusion passed over her face. “I just don’t understand why. We’re training. Training is hard. You’re bad at it because you’re new. Soon you won’t be new, and then it will be more fun.”

“You don’t feel bad about hurting me?”

“Are you injured?” the vampire reached for her, but Penny lurched back.

“No! I’m fine, but my feelings are hurt. Inside, I’m hurt.”

“Oh,” Ana frowned, “Alright. What do you want me to do?”

Was this bitch for real? Penny balked.

“What behavior should I stop?” Ana continued as if everything was fine. “Or is it Matilda? I was holding off on snapping her neck, but I don’t have to. Honestly, I’m not a fan of her methods. I’m no werewolf, but—”

“Stop!” Penny dug her nails into her hands. This was her fault. She was stupid for getting involved in another relationship that would force her to do all of the emotional labor. “I want you to realize what hurts me without me having to tell you. I mean, holy fuck, Anastasia. What do you feel when you look at me?”

“Enchanted,” her gaze darkened. “Possessive.”

“What the fuck kind of answer is that? I’m not some trophy for you to walk around and show off,” Penny shoved past her. “We’re not going out tonight, and since you need me to spell everything out, don’t fucking follow me. I need space.” 

Thankfully, Ana didn’t. Penny returned to another missed call and text message from Alice. She kept pushing for Penny to visit Windenburg because she had something to tell her “IRL.”

Work is busy, sorry! Penny texted back. She just didn’t have the bandwidth to show up and squeal over what was probably Alice’s ridiculously sized-engagement ring. She loved Alice, and it was awesome that her friend was happy, but the truth was that Penny just didn’t want to hear about it, at least until her own life was under control.

No, what Penny needed was a friend whose life was also a mess. Biting her lip, she scrolled through her phone until she found Bella’s number.

BELLA

As soon as Bella walked into the locker room, she regretted entering the precinct. 

“Bella?” Surprise and hurt flashed across Deacon’s face. “Where the heck have you been, dude? I…I thought you would call.”

“I’ve been working the case.” She didn’t come here to get into with Deacon. She left the room, but he followed.

“And, like, what’s up with the case?” he called out behind her, “Do you want to share what you’ve been working on?”

“Nope.”

“Bella!”

She kept moving down the hall. It was a hard-won victory to get her position as a detective. She didn’t owe anyone anything. Especially Caleb. He sent her a text message not to apologize but to remind her that Salim was a danger.

As if she couldn’t recognize a fucking vampire when she saw one! Now that she knew the supernatural world existed, she wasn’t blind. Bella could spot something otherworldly from a mile away. And vampires, with their dramatics and their stupid floppy hair, were about as inconspicuous as Judith Ward doing a slow walk into a coffee shop.

“Seriously, Bella,” Deacon caught up with her outside.

The smell of smoke filled the air, which only made her more annoyed. Why did they even let officers smoke outside on duty? 

“Are you listening?”

“Yes, Deacon, what is your problem?”

“I’m your partner. I showed up when you needed me. I’ve been, like, picking up so much slack and answering everyone’s questions about you, and I don’t ask for anything in return. I just wanna know what’s going on. I want to help.”

“You don’t want to help! You want glory and to ride off the hard work I’ve been doing!”

“Whoa,” Deacon held up his hands, “You are not being chill. I would never—”

“Of course, you would, dude!” A tiny part of Bella felt guilty, but her temper was running full steam, and she couldn’t stop herself. “No one takes you seriously, Deacon. You talk like a frat bro, and half the time, I’m not even sure you have a thought in your head. I don’t need your help, okay? And I don’t need you coasting in, trying to make a name for yourself off of my work!”

The smell of smoke increased, and Bella briefly considered submitting a complaint to HR. 

Deacon narrowed his eyes. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. I don’t—”

“Hey! What’s going on out here?” Sergeant Chris cried. “And on our front steps? Everyone can hear you two clear up the street!”

Shame, hot and prickly, covered her. “It’s nothing,” Bella replied, proud her voice didn’t shake. “Just a disagreement about how to move forward with a case.”

The sergeant frowned. “Do you mean the case you’re making no progress on? I’ve read Deacon’s updates.”

Bella shot her partner a scathing look. “I should’ve taken responsibility for the updates. Deacon missed a few things. Johnny and Eliza knew each other, and they had a mutual acquaintance involved in a serious crime that had reason to want them both dead.”

Chris looked relieved. “Glad to hear it. The Landgraabs are breathing down our back to get this solved. Good work.”

Good work. Those two words meant so much. When Bella first joined the force, she endured multiple phone calls with her mother, hand-wringing over her choice. Jacosta Bachelor was sure that her daughter was destroying her marriage and damaging her children to pursue something that she probably wouldn’t even excel at.

“But I did excel, so take that,” Bella muttered. 

Deacon scratched his head, “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Can you put in a request to review the military records for Alice Martin?”  

Her partner stared, “Are you losing it? They are not going to grant that request. It’s crazy to even try; they’ll just get pissed and create a bunch of bureaucracy for us down the road. You don’t have proof that Alice did this crime; you just—”

“Nevermind,” Bella snapped, stomping down the steps. “I’ll do it myself.”

PENNY

Penny met Bella at the park. They did the “everything is totally fine” dance for about five minutes before they started blurting things out. 

“I’m dating a woman who thinks I’m a fucking trophy and that I should be doing all of the emotional labor,” Penny moaned.

“My partner is pissed at me because I won’t let him take all the credit, but if I don’t solve this case, it’s my ass on the line,” Bella complained.

“My best friend has a new boyfriend, and she will not shut up about it. She keeps trying to invite me to his fucking country house like I wanna watch them drink nectar that costs more than my apartment!”

“Yesterday, my teenage daughter told me that she wants to intern at some science lab in Oasis Springs, and she expects me to rearrange my entire schedule to get her there!”

Penny shook her head, enjoying the heady feeling of venting. “I’ve got bruises on top of my bruises, and I’m a fucking werewolf!”

Bella stopped laughing. “What?”

“I…I’m a werewolf. That stupid case I helped you with? I got bitten, and I’m now officially one of the fake stories I write about for work.” Penny tried to be flippant about it, but her throat was so tight that the last words came out in a sob. 

Immediately, Bella pulled her into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re still Penny! Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

It was a betrayal of everything the Pizzazzes stood for, but Penny let herself be fussed over. “I’m doing okay. It’s just hard. I have someone helping, but I feel like my whole world is falling apart. I don’t know anything about who I am and…” she trailed off, squinting at Bella.

“And?”

“You’re taking this really well.” 

Bella ducked her head, looking slightly sheepish. “Uh, well, you’re not the only one who got to know the supernatural world.”

She explained about the Magical Investigation Unit, the vampire she was working with, and all the crazy magical shit she’d seen, including the murders and the scary powerful witches. 

“Holy fuck,” Penny gasped, “All of that makes turning into a werewolf sound basic. Sorry, I cut you off earlier, is that what you were going to tell me?”

“Actually, I was going to say I’m having an affair.”

BELLA

“I’m having an affair,” Bella repeated. It felt like a weight had been lifted just by saying it. “That hot vampire who works for the MIU? I’m screwing him. Or at least I was…I’m kind of pissed at him right now.”

“Damn,” Penny exclaimed, “Get you some!”

“Don’t encourage me!” Bella laughed. “It’s terrible. I’m like a fucking teenager. Do you know I lied to my kids just so I could sneak him into the house? I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. I turned 40 and looked around at my life, and suddenly, everything I chose seemed wrong.”

“You’re just in a slump,” Penny assured her, “Also, maybe your husband sucks.”

“He does,” Bella agreed, but even as she said it, she wasn’t sure it was true. “Mortimer is fine. I mean, not great, but fine. Actually, he’s fucking perfect. He does everything I’m supposed to do and never lets me forget it, so I’m hyperaware that I’m a shitty mom.”

“You’re not shitty; you’re just tired, which—relatable.”

Bella wasn’t sure exhaustion explained it. Mostly, it just felt too hard to pretend she was happy. If anyone asked, she would say she stayed in the marriage because her kids needed her. But a tiny voice—a thought so vicious it stole her breath—whispered the truth: Bella didn’t really care if her kids needed her. She cared if they needed her more than Mortimer.

“Are you okay?”

“Totally, just thinking about what to make for dinner. Anyway, that’s enough about me. What’s this werewolf training you’re talking about? You want to quit?”

“No,” Penny looked down, “I just need to stay the course. Giving up is the easy way out, and Pizzazzes don’t do easy.”

“Neither do the Bachelors,” Bella snorted. “My mother would have a heart attack if she knew I was cheating on her perfect son-in-law.”

“Yeah, but how’s the sex?” Penny gave her a wicked look.

Bella smiled. “Truth? Amazing.”

BIFFINGTON

“How did you explain why Mortimer wasn’t the one calling?” Jacques asked.

“I…I didn’t,” Biffington confessed. He felt nauseous. “She never asked.”

Bjorn and Jacques collapsed into laughter. “Oh, that is perfect,” Jacques howled, “Mortimer always acts so self-sanctified, but his wife doesn’t even care!”

Biffington didn’t feel like laughing. Bella sounded distracted, but she was also a cop. “I just think we should make sure he calls her,” Biffington said, “Just so she doesn’t think something is wrong.”

Bjorn shrugged. “Nothing is wrong with Mortimer that he won’t recover from. Eventually.”

They were in the club’s storage room, which had been outfitted with a false door. Beyond it was part dungeon, part supernatural research lab. Or at least what a supernatural research lab would have looked like in the 1880s. Mortimer’s ancestors built it, and over the years, the club had added various artifacts and books—anything they thought might gain them access to the supernatural world. Biffington was proud that he brought them the most substantial lead with Vladislaus. Not only were vampires real, but they had conquered academia.

What was next? The federal government?

“When are we running the first test?” Bjorn asked, excitement gleaming in his eye. “I’m anxious to get this going. Clara has a trip planned to see her mother, and I’d like to be immortal, powerful, and in possession of an 8-pack while she’s gone so I can enjoy myself.”

“And I want to be young,” Jacques added. “But not virile. I already have three children, which is three too many. Does vampirism and godhood come with a vasectomy?”

Biffington didn’t think so. Gods were always begetting progeny, according to the old books. It was a major source of conflict. Natural-born vampires were far less common now, but no one knew why. Either way, things didn’t bode well for Jacques’s hopes of shooting blanks. “You could use protection,” he suggested, “Until we’re sure.”

“Protection?” Jacques frowned, “Gods don’t use protection.”

“Yes, fine, whatever, Jacques. Gods won’t be using anything if we don’t get started on the trials,” Bjorn huffed. “Speaking of which, how many times are you going to read that book, Biffy? A thousand?”

The vampire they caught whimpered in the corner, the plasma flowing from her injuries so freely that parts of the rope were soaked.   

“I-I just don’t want us to waste this opportunity by making a basic mistake,” Biffington babbled, his nausea rising.

“Who cares?” Jacques snorted, “We’ll get another one. Mortimer is in a cell now, so he won’t be trying any more heroics.”

It was Biffington’s idea to lock Mortimer in the lab while they were gone. The Goths had founded this club, and he was certain their most recent descendent would come around. But he was wrong. When they brought the vampire back, Mortimer tried to get a jump on them.

And got pistol-whipped for his efforts.

“This is a mistake,” Mortimer said for what felt like the hundredth time. 

The Goths built this room hoping to get hold of an Elder vampire, and they paid handsomely for a few good enchantments. It was all right there in the old records. Biffington often wondered how the club’s knowledge of the supernatural had been lost. Though, to be fair, even he thought their forefathers were just superstitious fools until he got his own proof…

Illicit proof that went beyond Vladislaus Straud—knowledge that Biffington was glad to have but loathe to cite for fear that the club might decide they no longer needed him or his expertise. Currently, they assumed all the supernatural knowledge Biffington possessed came from reading the club’s collection of dusty old books. He could tell them how spells broke down over time or that the language of an enchantment had to be specific and attribute it to Goodley Mather, knowing they’d never check. 

But the truth was that before he had proof of a living vampire, Biffington got his hands on a subscription to the Magical Times. It came to his house one day by mistake or like…well…magic. At first, he thought he’d ended up on the mailing list for a local LARP group. After a few diligent reading sessions and tests, though, he became convinced of its veracity. The Magic Realm was a real place, full of the most wondrous things, the most wondrous creatures, and Biffington planned to be the first mortal to explore and catalog it.

He caught Jacques staring at him angrily and wiped the wistful smile off his face. He and Bjorn could have monstrous immortality; Biffington only cared about his private research project. “We can’t run the experiment tonight,” he told them firmly, “We’re running low on ingredients. And this cell will need some costly upgrades if we plan on capturing Vladislaus Straud.”

“How costly?” Jacques asked, a frown already forming on his perpetually frowning face.

Biffington sniffed, enjoying his moment of superiority. “I’d suggest liquidating some assets.”

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CREDITS

In addition to the  CC I regularly use in the game and buildings from the Fleuralia Save File, I used the following builds and custom content. This story takes a ton of mods and cc, so if you see your work and I failed to tag it somewhere, please message me.