Descendants of Gibbous
Chapter 58: Stalker

Chapter 58: Stalker

"Who’s there?" Damien barked at the changing room next to his.

His heart was pummeling in his chest, adrenaline rushing everywhere in his body as he ran all the voices he could remember in his head, trying to find one that could match that of his surprise guest—but none of them rang a bell; and Damien didn’t remember pissing off anyone in Gibbous to the extent that they would stalk him.

Unless...

"I’m a fan of yours," the anonymous voice replied, the mysterious edge still noticeable even though the person behind it had lowered their pitch.

The voice sounded like it belonged to a boy from what Damien could make out—one who was probably his age too, although, his was a bit coarse.

Damien let go of the breath he was holding. He was a bit thankful that he hadn’t come across a rogue. However, the boy in the next room seemed to know his name and where to find him, meaning only one thing—he was a stalker. That bit of knowledge still didn’t settle the lad’s heart, especially considering his "fan" had decided to hide himself.

"Umm, what’s your name?" Damien mumbled, trying to fumble his foot into the trousers he was holding and losing balance all of a sudden.

The next moment, he found himself tripping and hitting the wall behind him with a loud thud, missing the mirror behind him by an inch.

’Ugh, why’s it suddenly so hard to concentrate on something so simple?’ The young vampire cursed himself, struggling to his feet and retaining his balance the next moment.

"My name isn’t of utmost importance right now," the mysterious boy replied after waiting for Damien to stop making noise.

Damien froze in his tracks.

His name isn’t of utmost importance? He couldn’t help but tip his head to the side, brows furrowed as confusion hit him like a brick. The more the anonymous boy talked, the more Damien found himself feeling uneasy. It wasn’t just the boy’s voice now—everything about him now sounded a little too suspicious for him to be just a fan.

"However, I think you’d be interested in the bit of news that I bear for you, so I want you to listen to me carefully. I might ask some questions, but bear with this loyal fan of yours, after all, I spent the whole day in the scorching sun trying to locate you you know," the boy continued.

Despite the heat since he was still wearing his coat, Damien felt a serpentine cold slither up his spine. He wanted to scream out the tailor’s name, or for his dwarf to come and take him away from this uncomfortable encounter, but after the mannequin show he’d performed when they arrived here, he didn’t know if they’d believe him or just label it as him putting on a show again.

"What’s this news you speak of?" Damien forced the question out, his voice sounding more grounded for someone who was battling with putting on his trousers.

"It’s about you and the Gem of Memento Mori," the boy retorted, his voice now carrying a hint of excitement despite his strange question.

Another cold shiver and Damien found himself glued to the changing room’s wall, wishing he could peek through it and see who the boy taunting him behind it was.

How could a civilian know about something only the most important beings in Gibbous had access to?

Twiller and the council had assured Damien that the news about him tapping into the gemstone’s power had been kept safe during his deportation trials. It was only eight of Gibbous’s X-rank heroes, the royal families and their advisors, Principal Twiller, and Ahara—obliviously—who knew about him and the gem of Memento Mori. Aside from them, nobody else knew about the secret—or so Damien thought.

"Who are you?" Damien barked at the boy in the next room, debating whether to just pounce on him and reveal his face.

But this was Gibbous and not the human world—and even if he was in the human world, no stalker would just carry on with their creepy behavior knowing they could be overpowered any moment. Whoever this boy was, he must have had a plan laid out before following Damien around.

’I mean, how could he locate us after we disappeared from the paparazzi?’ Damien thought to himself, snapping back to reality when he heard his stalker mumbling something under his breath.

"Like I said, my identity is not of importance at this moment," he retorted, his voice now sounding a bit irritated. "But I’ve got some questions I need you to answer about the gem before I leave you alone."

’That does it!’

Roughly tugging the curtain covering the room he was in, Damien exited his changing room in one long stride before facing the room his stalker was in and grabbing their curtain. However, before he could yank it open, the boy in it jabbed his fingers from inside with something pointed.

"Ouch!" Damien immediately withdrew his hand, eyes wide as he realized his hand couldn’t move. Whatever the boy had jabbed him with made his hand immobile.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you," came the boy’s icy voice. Damien could feel him glaring through the purple curtain. "Unless you want me to reveal your secret and leave you in a comma for an entire month, try opening that curtain again."

Damien froze. It didn’t take a genius to know the guy threatening him was more powerful than him, and if he was telling the truth and decided to reveal the truth about him using the gem—Damien couldn’t bring himself to think what his life would be like for the next coming years. The council had clearly warned him to keep it a secret after they tried to wipe his memories and failed—a perk they soon told him came from being possessed by the gem.

"Now why don’t you shut up and go back in your room before you decide to play the hero again?"

Not about to take a bloody risk that he knew damn well would bite him in the future, Damien did as the boy commanded. He wanted to see his face so badly, but his desire to live and lead a normal life was just as great.

"Knock on the board separating us if you’ve entered your room."

THUD!

"Good," the boy hummed approvingly, making Damien furrow his brows in frustration.

Was this really the best that he could do in the face of danger? What if his attacker decided to get physical all of a sudden, would he be able to hold him off then?

"Now tell me...where is the gemstone?"

Damien’s eye twitched at the question. He’d heard from the others how his Dad’s former weapon was every rogue’s prime target recently.

’Does that mean he’s a rogue too?’ Damien wondered, clenching his jaw.

"I don’t know," he replied in a shockingly steady voice.

"Hmm. Next question, how were you able to tap into its power?"

"I didn’t tap into its power. The gem possessed me," Damien honestly replied. He didn’t find any reason to lie about this because he’d heard about the gem’s ability to possess people and how all of them died—except for him. Damien figured his stalker probably knew about this too, and getting his trust in this situation was the lad’s first thought for some reason.

To his surprise, his stalker laughed to himself victoriously, mumbling some unintelligible gibberish as though he’d gone mad.

Thud! Thud!—Came the sound of footsteps from somewhere in the shop.

"Oy, yer vampire lad?"

’Flappy!’

Damien didn’t hesitate for a moment before grabbing his curtain and zooming out of his room.

"There’s a thief in there!" He yelled, flipping himself and pointing at the changing room next to his.

WHOOSH!

A sudden wind escaped from the room and when Damien grabbed the purple curtain to swing it open, it suddenly caught on fire.

"Aargh!" Damien cried out, removing his hand.

"Move over yer coward!" The dwarf yelled, producing a dead tree stick from his pocket and throwing it at the flames.

"No! You’re only fueling—oh!" Before Damien could finish speaking, the stick grew leaves. Literally.