Chapter Text
It was cold. That was the first thing he remembered.
Shifting around on the cold, cold ground, Pete Wentz was aware of everything.
From the pieces of gravel, that dug into his skin, to the sounds of the rain beating down on the rooftops and then pittering down to the earth below. From the sound of a car rushing by, two blocks away, to the booming clap of thunder from up above.
But, what he was mostly aware of was the pulsing, throbbing, unbearable pain in his neck. He was aware of the hot, sticky blood oozing down his neck, pooling softly below him, sticking to his clothing. He was aware of the feeling of his own skin stitching itself back up, skin growing back when it shouldn’t be. He was aware of the feeling of his mouth feeling more full than usual. He ran his tongue over his teeth, his eyes flew open and chest heaved when he felt that his canine teeth had elongated.
He was a smart man, and it really didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. The bite mark on his neck, the long teeth, he had heard about them, hell, he had seen them, but it never occurred to him that he would become one. Vampire.
He shakily stood up, he could feel the wound beginning to close, he looked around, trying to tune out the life of the city, rushing through his ears and clogging his mind with overwhelming scents and sounds.
It took him a moment, but he slowly became aware of how much blood there was. All
over his t-shirt and hoodie, all over his neck and dripping down his chest, a large pool where he once was, all over his mouth and face. He wasn’t sure how much of it was his, he could only pray that he hadn’t attacked anyone.
His shaky legs held fast and he managed to walk down the road, in hopes of finding a road sign to find out where he was. He looked around, thankful for the one good thing about being a vampire. His new enhanced eyesight meant he could see through the dark, but it also meant that any show of light burned against him. He hadn’t learned how to temper it, everything was running wild. His teeth were out, his eyes narrowed to slits, his nose picking up every-goddamn-thing, it was horrifying and made him want to claw his own mind apart.
He turned the corner, thankful for the dark cloak of night that concealed him from the occasional person passing by.
He knew where he should go: home. He just hoped that his roommates would help him learn how to control it.
He spotted a road name: Jefferson Street. He silently thanked any gods out there for helping him in this way. Jefferson Street was only a few blocks away from his apartment, which he shared with four other people.
He picked up the pace, his throbbing headache slowing to a dull reminder. He had took a long time learning how to settle his features: by taking deep breaths and controlling his heartrate he found that he could rein in his newly acquired features. His pupils widened, his teeth shrunk back. His mind remained crowded with the scents and emotions of others.
He could feel it bubbling under the surface of his skin, he could feel the straight hunger. He could feel it pulling at him, begging him, whenever he passed someone on the street.
He was close to his home now, but the insatiable hunger for blood was increasing with every step.
It wasn’t like a hunger he was used to, this wasn’t one that grew from his stomach, no, this one clawed at his chest, teeth snapping as it bayed and howled for blood. It took the form of a beast, relentless and unable to see anything but red.
The hunger grew louder and louder, leaving his ears ringing and his mind reeling.
His head snapped up when he caught a familiar scent, something he never thought he would do. He had smelled it before, of course it was never quite as...sharp as this. It was one of his roommates perfume, Lacy, it was faint but there, stuck on the corner of a road, near a bus-stop.
He moved faster, his apartment building in sight. He fumbled around in his jacket pocket for his keys, cursing softly under his breath when he found none. He quickly searched for the number 210, so that way he could ask one of his housemates to let him in.
“‘lo?” Someone asked, voice gruff and heavy with sleep.
“Jack? Jack, it’s Pete, please, let me in.” Pete said, out of breath. The static from the
speaker was getting on his nerves and unbearable anger built up, he bit his lip to keep from lashing out and breaking the speaker.
“P-Pete?” Jack said, sounding alarmed.
Pete heard the door buzzing open and he rushed forward, grabbing the handle and pulling the door open swiftly. He rushed in, not bothering to take the elevator to the fourth floor, opting instead to run up the stairs. He found himself with increased stamina, only tiring once he reached the fourth landing.
The building was filled with the sounds of heartbeats, blood rushing, people breathing, it was overwhelming. It took everything he had within him to not rip open someone’s door and cure his hunger.
He walked down the hallway, knocking sharply on his door. He could hear heartbeats behind the door, five of them. It meant that all of his roommates were awake.
He took a deep breath before someone opened the door.
“Pete? Where the fuck have you been?” Someone asked.
He groaned softly and stumbled in. He surveyed the room, his eyes washing over the faces of everybody. He took a moment to breath in what they smelled like, trying to focus on that and not the sounds of blood rushing through their veins, dying to be ripped open and—
He shook his head.
“I was attacked and…“ He rubbed his temples, “I-I can’t remember.” He finished. His eyes were wide when he realized this, in his memory a large gap of time was missing.
“P-Pete, is that blood?” Teresa yelped. She ducked behind Jack, who took a wary step back.
“A-a vampire attacked me, th-they bit me,” Pete stuttered out. “Guys, please, I need help. I don’t know how to control it.” He warned them, begging for help all the same.
“They turned you?” Lacy said, fear edging into her voice. She and Tara joined Jack and Teresa towards the back of the room.
Pete looked towards Matt, the only one who hadn’t stepped back, the only one who hadn’t looked afraid.
“Please, I can learn to control it, I need your help.” He took a step forward, allowing the door to swing shut behind him. He tried not to wince when the door slammed shut, failing.
“You can’t control it, no one can. You’re a vampire—a monster!” Tara shouted, stepping out from behind Lacy. “You will kill someone, every single time you feed. That’s what all newly-turned vampires do.” She said, placing one hand on her hip.
“No, I can’t kill anyone, there’s got to be a way around it.” Pete said, his voice shaking. There was no way he could kill someone to survive, he just couldn’t.
“You can and you will, you’re one of them now.” Jack jumped in. “Matt, he listens to you, tell him.” Jack told him.
Matt had been Pete’s friend since Middle School. He locked eyes with Pete, his gaze cold and hard.
“Matt, please, I can’t do this on my own. I need you.” Pete pleaded.
“I need you out.” Matt responded. “Get out. You’re dangerous, you’re a killer.” He added. His voice remained even, but Pete could hear his heartbeat jackrabbiting. It hurt him to know that his best-friend—ex-friend, he thought—was afraid of him, but it hurt even more to know that he wouldn’t help him.
He could feel a mixture of anger and sadness building up in his chest. The hunger he had been feeling for the past several hours had dimmed to a slow, dull reminder at the back of his mind, in place of it anger burned.
His control was slipping, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from attacking his friends if he didn’t reel it in, didn’t manage to tamper the undeniable urge to kill.
If his control was a rope then he was struggling to remain holding on to it, some other force was pulling on the other end in a vicious game of tug-of-war. His mind burned and the rope slipped some more.
He felt his teeth elongating. He panted, his mouth dropping open. He ran his tongue over his teeth, finding that only four teeth on the top part of his jaw had elongated.
Better for biting and feeding off of people, his mind helpfully supplied.
The rope slipped even more.
His eyes narrowed to slits, his vision enhancing. His heartbeat pounded in his ears when he looked up at the people in front of him.
They were all shouting, he only caught fragments of their words.
“Get out!”
“You monster!”
“Grab him.”
The rope was out of his grasp.
He shot his head up, his mouth opened to release in an ear-splitting roar that filled the room and reverberated throughout everyone’s chests.
Matt and Jack who had stepped forward to grab him shrunk back.
Pete stepped forward, he couldn’t see anything except prey. The animalistic side of him was taking over and it was hungry for blood. He could barely recognize the people in front of him, only saw them as weak creature ready for his picking.
He lunged out at Jack who had darted forward, attempting to knock him down.
The rope was still in sight, he was not completely gone.
He hadn’t realized that he was on top of somebody until he heard Lacy screaming “Pete, stop! Stop!”
He focused his vision and found himself staring down into the fear filled eyes of Matt. He panted over him. He felt what little control he had slip and he shoved his face into the bottom right-hand side of Matt’s neck. He could hear his blood pumping, tempting him. He opened his mouth and brought it down to Matt’s skin. His teeth broke the skin, small droplets of blood dripped out. He washed his tongue over them, taking a moment to revel in the taste. He needed more.
The sounds of Matt’s heavy breathing brought him back a little, just enough for him to hear the sounds of Jack groaning and the girls crying. His eyes darted to the side and he saw Jack unconscious to right of him. He could guess that he had done that.
More blood hit his nose and his attention was brought back to Matt, who lay on the floor, his struggles slowing down, but his whimpers continued.
His anger was nearly gone, the hunger taking its place. He needed more blood, he craved it. He brought his mouth back down, his teeth taking the same place as before.
He bit down sharply. He knew that you were only turned if a vampire bit you and then fed you their blood, the two combined it what sealed the deal, without one or the other you just had a bloodied victim.
He heard Matt scream and suddenly the memories of how he was turned rushed back. He removed his mouth from Matt’s neck in a sudden movement. His control was regained and he was harshly aware of everything he had done.
Pete ran a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to ignore the sharp scent of blood in the air and the way it called to him. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and rushed to the kitchen, grabbing a hand towel and bringing it back to the living room where he had attacked Matt.
He pressed it up against Matt’s wound.
Matt whimpered and tried to move away from Pete, but had lost too much blood.
Pete took Matt’s hand and pushed it against the towel, getting him to apply pressure to it.
“Call 911.” He told the girls. His speech was slurred by the fangs in his mouth and the blood that dripped down them.
Tara who was the only one not crying took out her phone and called 911, she was smart enough not to tell the operator that she knew who attacked her friend.
Pete, shaken up, turned around and rushed out of the apartment. He ran down the stairs, jumping over the railing on the last flight of stairs, ignoring the sickening crunch of bones before they healed.
He shoved open the door, running down the sidewalk with inhuman speed. The night's events replayed over and over in his mind, the way the blood tasted in his mouth a filthy reminder.
He slowed to a halt only when he had run for more than a mile. He panted and leaned against the wall of a building.
His hands pulled at his thick hair when he couldn’t retract his fangs. His fists pounded at the wall, the bricks cracking with the force of each blow.
He was broken out of his reverie when he heard footsteps accompanied by hearts beating wildly with fear.
He turned around, not sure what to expect.
The footsteps froze when he moved. In the darkness he saw three figures, armed with large gun-like objects and machetes, stakes pinned to their belts.
Hunters, he thought.
The vigilantes of the city that would track down and kill vampires. They had proved useful and were often mentioned on the news. Of course, there were other small groups of hunters that did the same thing they did, but The Young Bloods were of the most successful in their hunts, almost always saving the would-be victim.
They can stop me, they can stop me before I hurt anyone, Pete thought. He knew that if a simple argument could get him to attack his closest friends, then he had no clue what he would do if he got into a real fight.
Pete rushed forward, onto the street.
“P-please, I need your help.” He called out, his words slurring as he attempted to learn to talk with fangs.
The group froze as they stepped out of the shadows, clearly confused by his behavior.
“I need your help, please,” Pete gasped, slowing down before he got too close to them.
The shortest one stepped forward, bringing his gun down. He clearly seemed unnerved, like he thought this was all some big plan to get them to get their guards down so he could kill them.
The other two kept their guns trained on him, staring him down.
“With what?” The one who stepped forward asked, not getting too close to him.
“I need you to kill me, please, before I hurt anyone,” else, he kept himself from saying the last part. He took a step toward the man, falling to his knees. He lowered his head repeating the words kill me over and over again like a mantra.
The other two people walked to where the first one was. They whispered quietly to each other and Pete tuned them out.
His fingernails dug into his arms, the pain reminding him that parts of him were still human, he wasn’t all monster.
“Patrick, no.” The tallest one said, crossing his arms and staring pointedly at the one called Patrick.
“He could help us.” Patrick reasoned, staring right back at the other one. “Joe, look, he could be useful. It would be good to have one on our side.”
“Andy, tell me you’re not considering this. He’s a vampire, we kill things like him.” Joe said, turning to face the one with the long hair and glasses.
Pete shifted on his knees, just wanting it all to end. He knew that he would kill people if they didn’t kill him. He didn’t want to live like that, as a vampire, he didn’t want to be forced to the shadows, to be ridiculed and feared.
“Okay, fine! Just know I’m not happy about this.” Joe said after he and the other two had conversed. “Hey, vampire.” Joe shouted, resuming his defensive position next to his friends.
Pete looked up, he couldn’t handle it. His senses were going into overdrive, the smell of the blood on himself, the smell of holy water, the sounds of heartbeats. He could see, smell, and hear everything.
“Look, we’re not going to kill you.” Patrick said.
“What? No, please, you have to. I can’t do this.” Pete pleaded. He figured if worst came to worst he could always kill himself, find a stake and a lonely corner.
“We can help you.” Andy offered, standing closely to Joe.
“We want to help you learn control, learn to fight, you’ll be one of the good guys.” Patrick told him, holstering his gun.
“I’m a monster, I’ll kill you all, don’t you get that? The moment I was bitten I was destined to become a killer.” Pete shouted, his anger rising. He thought these guys were supposed to be the smartest and most cunning of them all, the best at what they did, they weren’t supposed to want to help a vampire.
“Destiny is bullshit. You don’t have to do anything, but, we want to help you. We want you to be able to help us, help the city. Can you imagine how many more people we would save with you on our team? Look, we need you, you need us, it’s a win-win situation.” Patrick said, crossing his arms as he looked down at the man before him.
Pete lowered his head, taking a moment to steady his breathing and his heartrate. He felt his fangs retracting, a strange sliding sensation that he knew would take a while to get used to. His vision stopped focusing so much on the smallest of all details and went back to only slightly enhanced, as did his hearing.
He looked back up at Patrick, finding a hand outstretched to help him to his feet. He wrapped his fingers around Patrick’s wrist, feeling the soft thump-thump of a heartbeat. He pulled himself to his feet, not yet releasing Patrick’s wrist, but instead calming himself down the feeling of life.
Pete released Patrick’s wrist and instead took his hand, shaking it softly.
“I’m Pete.”
“Patrick.”
“I’m Joe,” Joe said, peeking over the shoulder of Patrick with a grin on his face.
“And you’re Andy,” Pete said as he let Patrick’s hand go, he missed the warmth that it had brought, but didn’t comment on it. It was one of the things that Pete had found was different since he had been turned, he was constantly cold.
Andy nodded at his comment, smiling softly.
“We should head back before someone catches us out here.” Andy advised, looking over his shoulder warily.
Patrick and Joe nodded sharply, turning around and walking back down the way they had come.
Pete sighed heavily and focused on keeping in control for the remainder of the time until he got back to their hangout. He knew that if they were helping him then it would get easier, but he didn’t want to have to wait. He didn’t want to spend parts of his day thinking about ripping out people’s throats, he just wanted to be normal again.
But, you were never normal, his conscious couldn’t help but remind him. It was this whole self-deprecating thing he had picked up in 2004, right around when he started getting into a really bad place.
He knew that if he kept thinking like this, that if he kept up hating himself then one day it would take over him and he just wouldn’t care.
He slowed his walking down, taking a moment to dig his fingernails into his palms in an attempt to calm himself.
In a split second he turned and punched a wall, the pain bringing him back in control. Like an anchor. Pain anchored him and kept him in control, at least now he knew what to do if he spiraled too far.
“Pete?” Patrick called, having stopped walking and turned once he had heard him punch the wall. “Hey, wait here.” He told Joe and Andy as he walked back down the darkened alleyway.
“I’ll be okay.” Pete said gruffly, trying to pass this...episode off. He felt a hand grab onto his shoulder, it was a comforting gesture but Pete still stiffened at the contact.
“Have you fed?” Patrick asked him, removing his hand.
“I started—I-I attacked my roommate, I stopped before I hurt him too badly.” Pete confessed. He leaned against the wall, sliding down so he was sitting. The ground was cold and wet from the rain from earlier, but he didn’t care.
“Joe, Andy, you guys can head home. We’ll meet up later.” Patrick shouted down the alley. Joe raised an eyebrow but didn’t object. Andy nodded and turned around, nudging Joe along with him.
“W-What are you doing?” Pete asked, leaning forward to look around Patrick to watch the other guys walk down the road. Patrick huffed softly and sat down next to Pete, bringing his knees up close to his chest and resting his arms on them.
“Let’s talk. Who are you, Pete?” Patrick asked, turning his head to look at Pete.
“What do you mean?” He responded.
“Tell me about yourself.” Patrick told him.
Pete leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at the stars. The first lights of the morning were beginning to show. He sighed.
“My name is Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz The Third—” He stopped talking when he heard Patrick giggle softly under his breath. He gently shoved Patrick’s shoulder, trying not to smile.
“Sorry, go on.” Patrick said, his laughter falling quiet.
“I’m twenty six years old, I live—I lived with my five roommates for, like, three years. Tried to start up a band with two of them, didn’t get very far. I was turned sometime in the last day, at roughly about 8:00 PM? . . . By, uh, one of the Dandies.” Pete trailed off, the memories of that particular event coming back to mind.
“If you don’t mind, but, uh, how were you turned?” Patrick asked.
Pete focused on Patrick’s heartbeat which had picked up at the mention of Pete being turned.
“I had gone out to a bar, for a drink, my friends knew I would be gone for a while, which is probably why they didn’t look for me.
“I was walking outside the bar, down the back alley at around 7:00, uh, and as I made my way toward some of the back roads I was jumped by two or three people, I can’t remember. I just remember that one sent the others off and focused on me.
“It was horrible…” Pete trailed off, he could feel himself growing more and more angry for not being able to defend himself and for being so weak. He felt Patrick’s hand on his knee. He slowly reached his hand down to grab Patrick’s wrist, seeking comfort in the rhythmic beating of his heart.
He relived the memories, speaking out loud, while staying in control…
The sounds of the bar soon faded to a muffled beating, the bass line of whatever song they were playing reverberating throughout the ground.
Pete walked down the alley, thinking about calling one of his roommates to come get him since he really didn’t feel like walking all the way back home. He decided against it since most everyone he lived with was probably getting ready to go to bed or was out doing something.
He heard footsteps echo down the road. He turned around, hoping to find that it was merely his imagination acting up: it was. He shook his head and continued walking down. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched, that there was someone behind him just waiting to jump out and grab him.
He turned around again.
Finding no one once again he kept walking, passing off the paranoia to having too much to drink back at the bar.
Laughter echoed through his ears, he spun around finding himself face-to-face with a mouthful of fangs.
He yelped and turned around hoping to find a way out and to run, but was met with two other vampires, grinning wildly as they both pushed his shoulders, knocking him onto his back.
The air rushed out of his lungs and he had scrapes on his hands. He turned sideways, pinning himself up against the wall so that way he could see all of the vampires at once. He attempted to stand back up, but a vampire darted at him and pushed him back down.
They wore hats and dressed in suits, but the one who seemed to radiate dominance wore a long cape and held a cane in his hand.
He whispered something under his breath and sent the other two vampires off.
“You’ll have to forgive Brendon and Spencer, they’re—hmm…what would you call them? Oh, for lack of a better word: new.” The vampire said, an air of arrogance to his words.
“And you’re different?” Pete said, his voice shaky and his heart beating out of control.
“Of course I’m different, I’m the leader. My, my, little human, you really should know more about the things that haunt you in the dark, perhaps if you had you wouldn’t be here right now.” The man said, his lips spread in a wide smile, revealing his fangs.
“I did do my research, I just wasn’t expecting to see a parasite like you in this part of town.” Pete growled, not willing to be bullied and beat down by a monster like him.
The leader darted forward, picking Pete up and throwing him against the wall, his hand pressed up against his throat. He moved his mouth in close, licking a long strip up Pete’s neck. He pulled back and smiled once again. He locked eyes with Pete.
“I’ll have you know, human, that I am William Beckett, leader of the Dandies, and I would kill you if I didn’t need you.” William spoke smoothly, his voice steady.
“W-Why do you need me?” Pete asked, his voice hoarse. He pulled at William’s wrist but his hand wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t pushing so hard on Pete’s neck that he couldn’t breathe, but it was still uncomfortable and he knew that he would have a nasty bruise there later.
“Because…once you’re one of us you will be unstoppable. You have more potential than I’ve seen in a while. I’m not sure what about you says this, but it’s strong. You have more power than Brendon and Spencer have combined, and I need you on my side. We could rule Chicago with you standing by the Dandies.
“Hunters would fear us, other vampires would tremble at the mere mention of our name and I just can’t pass that opportunity up.” William smiled once again. “I can only hope you survive this.”
Before Pete had the chance to even ask what William meant he lunged forward, opening his mouth wide and digging his fangs into Pete’s neck.
Pete shouted, pain radiating throughout his neck. He pushed at William, trying to get him away, but only succeeding in having his fangs go deeper into his neck and tear away at more skin.
Blood poured down his neck, onto his chest, and pooled at the space beneath him. He felt faint and knew he wouldn’t last long, he was going to die, he just knew it.
William removed his fangs from Pete’s neck, instead placing them on his own wrist and biting down.
“Stay with me, Pete,” William commanded as he moved his wrist up to Pete’s mouth, forcing him to swallow some of his blood.
Pete coughed and tried to spit back up the blood, but it had already gotten into his system. He slid down the wall, agonizing pain blossoming in his neck. It hurt so much that he just wished he would die, he wished that it would all just stop.
“I’ll be back, Pete. We’ll be unstoppable.” William said. He leaned down to Pete, crouching above him. “I have faith in you.” He pressed a soft kiss to his head.
Pete tried his hardest to move away from him, but he was in too much pain to do more than groan.
“I’ll be back.”
Pete sighed softly, his hand subconsciously reaching up to touch his neck. He kept expecting to find a gaping wound there, blood pouring out of it, but he never found any evidence that the last night’s event had actually happened, that is until he let most of his vampire features out.
“We won’t let him get you.” Patrick promised. He stood up and offered his hand once again to help Pete up.
“Ever since I woke up, I’ve been feeling this attraction, sort-of like a calling to him. I hadn’t known what it was until I remembered how I was turned. I can’t help but think, that if I can...sense where he is, why can’t he sense where I am?” Pete asked, his words more rhetorical than anything else. He wasn’t really sure he wanted an answer.
“We won’t let him get you.” Patrick repeated, sounding more sure of himself this time. He took a step back when he helped Pete up.
Pete sighed and nodded.
“Okay.” Pete patted the shorter man on the shoulder, smiling at him softly. “We should get back with the others.” Patrick nodded and took lead, leading him back through the alleyways and roads.
“We’re about a mile away.” Patrick told him, looking over his shoulder.
Pete nodded and kept an eye out, tuning his ear for sounds that shouldn’t be there.
“Patrick…” Pete said softly, reaching a hand out to touch his arm as he stopped. He lowered his head and tried to listen for the sound he had just heard.
“Yeah?” Patrick asked, turning around and stopping. “Pete…” Patrick prompted when he got no response.
“Shh…” Pete commanded, closing his eyes and trying to focus on just the sound he had heard earlier. He inhaled sharply when he heard what sounding like a footstep. His head shot up when he caught the scent of blood and anger.
He turned around quickly, attempting to figure out where they were. He identified the different sounds and found that there was more than one of them.
“Vampires.” Pete warned. Patrick’s body stiffened and he looked around. “Four of them.” Pete added. He let his fangs drop, allowing some of his control to go with them. If it was four against two then there was no way they would make it out.
With a roar two of the vampires jumped out of an alleyway that branched off of the road.
Pete and Patrick turned around, only to twist around once again when two more vampires jumped out behind them.
Pete roared and stepped in front of Patrick. He quickly recognized the gang that the vampires were from: the Punks. Out of the four different groups these were of the ones that most enjoyed creating mayhem.
Patrick shifted his stance and took out a stake. He stared down the two vampires that had taken interest in him, slowly creeping toward him, fangs bared and eyes narrowed. This wasn’t a hunt for survival, this was a hunt for the thrill of the kill.
Pete opened his mouth and let more of his control slip. He was not going to let these monsters hurt him or his newfound friend. He snarled and took a step forward, he knew that the only way he would be able to win this fight would be to fight with sheer brutality and force rather than cunning and forming a plan. He was new to the game, but that doesn’t mean he was at a loss.
Patrick tossed him a stake, knowing that it was one of the only ways to kill a vampire.
One vampire leapt forward, a smile on her pale, pale face. She aimed for Pete, her eyes were wild and crazed.
Once one vampire started the others joined in. It was a frenzy. Two went after Pete while the others attacked Patrick.
Pete could tell that Patrick was struggling against the vampires that were atop him. He roared and let his control fully slip.
He pushed one of the vampires to the ground, forcing his head into the ground. He took a moment to smile at the sickening crunch of bones that rang throughout the alley. He dug his teeth into his neck, he figured that if he couldn’t feed on humans why couldn’t he feed on vampires.
With one jerky movement he tore through the vampire’s skin, ripping out his throat. He took the stake that Patrick had tossed him and dug it into the vampire’s heart.
He coughed before falling limp, blood pouring out of his neck and chest.
Pete turned to the other vampire who had taken a few steps back, seeming afraid of him now that she had seen what he was willing to do.
Feeling enraged and stronger he darted forward, pushing her up against the wall. He tilted her head up, smiling as he watched fear fill her eyes before thrusting upward and killing her with the same stake from before.
He turned around, ripping the stake out of her chest, and spotted Patrick cornered against the vampires that had went after him. The vampires were covered in blood and Pete could only hope it was their own.
He growled low in his throat, the sound rumbling across the alley and catching the other’s attention.
One vampire, dressed in mostly black with light colored hair, turned her attention from Patrick to Pete. She whispered something to the other which resulted in him pushing Patrick up against the wall, one hand on his throat.
She took a look down at the two dead vampires that lay near his feet. She snarled and waved her hands in a swift motion that was clearly meant to initiate the fight.
Pete brushed his hair back and adjusted his shirt. He threw the stake to the ground. He knew that he could win this fight, if he didn’t Patrick would die.
His lips drew back in a snarl and he slowly crept forward. His eyes flashed to Patrick who stood watching, held back only by the other vampire.
“What do you want with us?” Pete asked, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed.
“William wants something with you, which means so do we.” She responded. “We can’t have him having you, you’re too important to him.”
“So, you’d rather kill me then let him have me?” He asked. He still didn’t know what William thought was so special about him, maybe this would be how he found out.
“With you joining his gang he will obliterate the rest of us!” She yelled before throwing herself at Pete, knocking him on his back.
The air was thrown out of him. He heard the sound of wood against cement, the stake. He struggled against her as she bared her teeth and went for his throat. His hands flared by his sides while he attempted to find the stake, that would be the only way he would survive this.
He felt her teeth dig into his neck, ripping and tearing like her life depended on it. His yell of pain was halted when her hand made its way to his mouth, forcing it closed. Her nails dug into his cheeks. She removed her mouth from his neck and stared into his eyes.
“Pete!” Patrick shouted, struggling against the man.
Pete kicked his legs up and tried to throw her off of him, but she pushed him back down. The weight of her was too much for him to overpower, especially in his weakened state.
His eyes darted to the side and he finally spotted the stake. He attempted to inch toward it as it was too far out of reach.
The woman followed his gaze and caught was he was thinking. She smirked and leaned off of him a little, her hand still grabbing his face.
While she was leaning to the side, and while her center of balance was thrown off, Pete bucked his hips up. He rolled to the side, tossing her off of him. He landed on top of her, closer to the stake. He reached out and grabbed it, swiftly moving back to impale her with it.
“Wait!” She screeched, her hands splayed open near her face. “Wait, please, wait.” She begged. Pete stopped his movement.
“What?” Pete demanded, bring his face in close to hers.
“If you kill me…” She waited a moment, a slow smile creeping onto her face, “then he”—She nodded jerkily at Patrick and the other vampire—”will kill him.” The other vampire assured her words by pushing Patrick up against the wall harder and bringing his fangs close to his neck.
Pete pushed himself away from her, he still stay atop her, weighing her down. He took a moment, rolling the stake in his hand. He closed his eyes and thought. He had too many options and not enough time, too many things to consider and too many lives at risk.
“Let me go and your friend will—” Her words were cut short by Pete darting forward and throwing the stake into her chest. He jumped off of her, letting her body lay there.
He turned around to look at Patrick who he had essentially just killed by killing the other vampire.
The one holding a very scared and betrayed feeling Patrick turned to glare at Pete.
Pete saw Patrick close his eyes and wait for the feeling of fangs at his neck. He took a split second to drop every ounce of control he ever possessed.
Very calmly he raised a hand, feeling a dark burning inside his chest. He knew that vampires had the power to use what was basically mind-control on humans, a way they kept their victim from screaming or making a scene, but they typically couldn’t use it on other vampires.
He walked towards the vampires who had opened his mouth and was leaning in to bite Patrick. He imagined the vampire under his control and put all of his belief into that one thought. He looked down at the ground and when he looked back up at the vampire he had stopped moving. His eyes were glazed over and his mouth hung limply. He was completely enthralled under Pete’s power.
He was vaguely aware of Patrick gasping and his heart rate increasing. He took his mind off of Patrick and back to the vampire. He raised his hand and with a slow movement brought the creature off of Patrick. He walked him towards himself, the deep burning in his chest had become stronger and was filling his entire body. His anger towards this one person adding fuel to the fire.
He could see Patrick moving away from the wall. He recognized the vampire in front of him as prey, every drop of control had been dropped, he could only wonder why he wasn’t going after Patrick, too. He snarled and picked up the vampire by his neck. He could hear his heart beating slowly, like he had no clue he was about to be killed.
He knew he could snap his neck and stab him with the stake right then and there, but the appeal of his blood was too strong.
“Pete…” Patrick said, sensing his allure towards his victim’s blood. “Pete,” he repeated, “Pete, feed off of him.”
Pete didn’t have to be told twice. He dropped the man and lunged onto him, his teeth digging into his neck. He ripped out skin before attaching his mouth and drawing more and more blood out.
The vampire didn’t do anything, too far until Pete’s control to even think a thought of his own.
He could feel the hunger that raged like a wildfire before slowly beginning to climb down, turning into a low, low warmth.
When he finally pulled away from the man he was almost completely drained. He looked up at Patrick who tossed him a stake. He inhaled sharply and pushed it into the man’s chest. He then released him from his control and stood up, off of him.
He reined back his control and wiped his mouth on his shirt. He looked back down at the vampire. He was shocked to find that he had drank so much blood. He was astonished to think that if he had fed on a human he would have killed them. He took a moment to remember the taste of Matt’s blood and how different it was to the vampire’s. He could only think that perhaps he fed so much off of the vampire because it was different blood, maybe he would feed less off of a human. He didn’t want to test his theory.
“We—we should, uh, we should get back to the others.” Pete said through gasps. He panted and took a moment to catch his breath, something he probably should have done more when he was feeding.
“Uh, yeah,” Patrick said as he rubbed absentmindedly at his throat. He dug around in his pocket, searching for his phone. “Fuck…” He cursed softly, running a hand through his hair. He inhaled sharply through his nose as he looked down at the cracked screen of his phone.
“We should hurry back—we don’t want the others to worry.” Pete said. He ran his thumb over his hand, picking at the dried blood. He started to rub at it harder.
Patrick walked past him, stopping for a moment to look back at the carnage.
“Why won’t it come off…” Pete said softly, barely a whisper. “Why won’t it come off?” He asked again, this time his voice a little louder. He rubbed his hand harder, the skin was raw and irritated. He thought he heard his name being called, but he was too concerned with getting all of the blood off. “I just want it to come off!” He went to rub harder at his skin, but he found Patrick standing close to him.
“Pete! Stop!” Patrick warned.
Pete’s head shot up, his eyes wide. He stared at Patrick who grabbed his hands in his own and moved them away from each other.
“Let’s go home,” was all he said. He dropped Pete’s hands and slowly walked away from him, making sure he was following him before walking faster.
The rest of the walk home was a blur to Pete. The actions of the previous hour replaying over and over again in his mind. He couldn’t fathom that he had killed four people.
They were bad people, he couldn’t help but think, hell, they weren’t even people; they were monsters. As soon as Pete finished that thought another was brought to mind: if they deserved to die then why didn’t he?
“Pete?” Patrick asked, breaking Pete out of his thoughts. “We’re here.”
Pete forced a small grin and looked over the building, blocking out his previous thoughts.
The hideout was a large, abandoned industrial building.
He followed Patrick inside, closing the door behind him. . .