308 Midnight Meeting
(Third Person). 1
Brackham couldn’t stop imagining the lab in ruins–vampires tearing through steel doors, destroying the
project he had dedicated years to.
‘No.‘ He clenched his jaw. He couldn’t let that happen.
When they surfaced in the garage beneath Government House, Brackham leaned toward his Head of
Security.
very
“Tighten the perimeter around the lab. I don’t care how many men it takes. And listen carefully–if any idiot
wanders too close, I don’t care if they are innocent or not… shoot them. Kill them before they even blink.”
The Head of Security swallowed hard but nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Brackham’s eyes burned with cold fire. “If we lose that lab, we lose everything.”
Minutes later, back in his office, the mayor stripped off his jacket and dropped heavily into his chair. Then he
grabbed the phone and dialled his secretary.
“Send a notification to every senator,” he said flatly. “There will be an emergency session this Midnight. It is
non–negotiable.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He hung up before she could ask questions.
His gaze swept to the darkened window, his reflection faint against the city lights beyond.
He imagined the vampires moving in the shadows out there, plotting their next strike. His stomach knotted.
A knock at the door, then his secretary slipped in and placed a steaming black coffee on his desk. He gave her
a dismissive nod, waiting until she had left before wrapping his hands around the mug.
The bitterness grounded him, but not enough. His mind kept circling back. The attack tonight hadn’t been
random.
The vampires knew what they were doing. Which meant someone, somewhere, was feeding them intelligence
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-or they had spies watching.
Brackham muttered under his breath, his voice low and dangerous. “The next time I get one of you bastards
alive… I will cut them open piece by piece.”
The heavy oak doors of the Government House conference room shut with a thud, sealing in the low hum of
restless voices.
It was a few minutes past midnight, and the senators–some still in wrinkled suits, others in hastily thrown-
on jackets–shifted uneasily around the long table.
Mayor Brackham entered without ceremony, his expression thunderous. His Head of Security followed close
behind, setting a briefcase on the table before taking a post at the wall. The room fell silent.
Brackham planted both hands on the polished wood and bent forward, his eyes sweeping across the faces
before him.
“Less than three hours ago,” he began, his tone sharp, “one of our most critical tech facilities was hit.”
Confusion rippled across the table almost immediately.
“Not by rebels. Not even by terrorists. But by Vampires–those bloody creatures.”
The word ‘Vampire‘ alone was enough to spark chaos.
A senator at the far end–a man with auburn hair and a perpetually nervous twitch–sat back heavily in his
chair, his lips parting in disbelief. “Vampires? Inside the city?”
Another, younger and sharper, slammed a palm against the table. “Impossible. We have had every entry point
covered!”
Brackham’s glare silenced him. “And yet they were there. Ten of them. They massacred my people and
reduced the facility to rubble in under twenty minutes.”
Gasps filled the room. One woman covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with horror.
“Destroyed?” another senator muttered. “Completely?”
“Yes.” Brackham’s voice was cold, unyielding. “Every piece of equipment, every drone in development are all
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gone. We will be forced to rebuild from scratch.”
The weight of the loss settled over the room like a shroud.
One senator, his face flushed with anger, leaned forward. “What about the guards, the soldiers stationed
there? What were they doing? Sleeping?”
Brackham’s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening against the tabletop. “That’s exactly the question I’ve been
asking.”
Fear and anger swirled through the room as whispers of “If they can breach that…” and “What if they target
us next?” rose from every side.
Brackham straightened, letting their panic simmer just long enough before his fist came down hard on the
table, rattling the glasses and sending ripple of silence through the room.
Then, he snapped, his voice booming through the lingering whispers. “Enough.”
Immediately, the voices cut off, leaving only the sound of heavy breathing and the faint tick of the clock on
the wall.
“Do you think panic will solve this? Do you think cowering in your chairs will bring back the lives perished
tonight?” Brackham’s glare swept the senators, daring any of them to look away.
“We are staring at an enemy that walked straight into our city and chose its target like it knew exactly what
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