Give the Devil A Call - A OT story

Phammie will not die
Unless she becomes sone sort of spirit thing that can still be a main character
 
POV: Zazha

I watch the screen carefully, making sure Drake isn't getting too close to those cretins. Don't want him trusting anyone. He doesn't get how dangerous trust can me, I have raised my own son to semi-hate me so he can live.

The brat, Phammie is sitting next to the small girl whose name I can't recall though it's on the tip of my tongue. I hate the images being visuals only, but you take what you can get. The tall, young kid with the haunting eyes is closing the window while the girl with black hair watches.

It's such a cozy scene, better fit for a home around a fire place not a closet in an abandoned building infested with creatures of the night.

POV: Quail

"I can smell them," a hungry one says with the red rimmed look of hunger in her crazed eyes.

"We all can," I reply sharply, glaring at her from my position outside the door. The sweet scent of human blood with a hint of fear rolls on my tongue. It's irresistible wether we can over power them or not.
 
Woah Woah Woah  so if this story continues till the end of time  you'll be some dead person writing a story on pimd forums?
 
POV: Boo

I examine the door out of the closet we're in. I run the tips of my callused hardened fingers over the chipping paint. There's a metal disk wielded over the where the knob should be.

For all I know there could be a brick wall on the other side. Or- I cut off my train of thought before it goes even more down hill. "Secily, think you could take down the door?"

POV: Secily

I look up from the shreds of metal in my lap. A mass of wires. I put the remainder of the sheet of the metal on a table and rise to my feet. "Probably depends what's on the other side." I reply l brushing metal bits off my shirt.

Boo towers over me with curiosity in his eyes while I kneel at the base of the door. As long as it's been, we are all still fascinated by each other's powers. Even Drake.

The door feels solid to my touch, I sigh. Half my hand sinks into the door. It leaves a neat tear down the middle. I yank my hand out and push the door forward, relaxing my muscles. Instead of going through the door this time, it crumples in on itself.

POV: Hendrix

Before the dust billowed up, I saw a face peering in. Large red-rimmed eyes with pupils like saucers. If it wasn't for the red tinge all over them I would have thought it was a stoner. But no stoner can run that fast.

"Vampires," Phammie steals the words from my mouth
 
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