His name was Deacon, and he watched the house from a copse of trees across the street. He’d been watching it for a few days now but his master was growing impatient, so he needed to act today. He felt confident enough that he knew enough of the routine to be able to quickly enter and leave without being spotted.
He pulled his hood up and forward as far as it would go, and adjusted his sunglasses against the bright summer day, and waited patiently. The ghoul, he knew, would soon take the pup for a long walk, and that would be his time to act.
Accordingly, there was movement at the house. A delivery man had arrived with yet another bouquet for the woman of the house. A younger looking man, whom he had since learned was called Nikolai, took the delivery and closed the door behind him, reemerging several moments later, leash in hand, and closed the door behind him, urging shepard pup onward after he’d locked up.
Deacon waited until they’d disappeared around the corner, and moved up to the house, trying to appear casual. Rather than go up to the font door directly, he casually walked to the space between yards, appearing as though he was taking a shortcut. When he thought no one was looking, he cut into the yard and shimmied up to the back door, where he proceeded to pick the lock and then quickly tap in the code – something he’d managed to acquire after a lot of careful observation of Nikolai.
Quietly, he closed the door behind him and checked each room of the house, until he found hers. He had only just last night learned her name was Petra, but that didn’t matter. His master was infatuated with the not a girl, not quite a woman that she appeared to be. Carefully, as though his life depended on it, he snuck into her room, and gently closed the door behind him.
He was under orders to bring back something of hers – something personal – but he was at a loss as to what that something that might not be noticed could be. He cast his eyes all around the room, and then they fell on her. To be more specific, her braid. He remembered that a vampire would return to it’s death state upon awakening in the evening, so what he had in mind shouldn’t be missed at all.
Deacon reached into his pocket for his Leatherman, and pulled out the blade. Ever so carefully, he held her braid, and placed the blade underneath it at the base of her neck, then quickly started sawing it off. Once he had it separated from her, he couldn’t help but sniff it – it smelled of her shampoo, and it was a nice smell. His master should be pleased with him for this, he hoped. He stuffed it into the kangaroo like pocket of his hoodie, then slipped out of the room to place the knife back and slip out of the house, re-locking the door as he went.
He made his way out of the yard and towards the back of the property, before ducking out of site and jogging towards his car. He’d done it. He was pleased with himself, and could only hope his master would be as well. Should he not be, he was not looking forward to the punishment that inevitably would be in store due to failure. Shuddering, he started the care and drove off at a normal place, heading for the building that his master had established as his own – one far more protected than that of mere mortals. In addition to modern electronic alert systems, there were wards placed all about.
He parked, and made his way through the wards and into the building, where he set about to perform the other tasks assigned to him before his master woke up and he could present him with the beautiful red braid.