True love for family is found in the moments when patience is tested.
The second vampire, who had been watching in stunned silence, was now filled with panic. He stumbled backward, eyes wide as the reality of his partner's demise hit him like a wave. His instincts screamed at him to run, to flee from the menace before him, but his legs felt like they were made of stone. His body moved in jerky, panicked motions as he tried to take a step back, but before he could even make two full steps, a sharp, inhuman crack echoed in the night air as he collapsed to the ground.
I was already there.
Before he could react, my knee was pressing into his back, my weight forcing him further into the cold ground. His attempts to scramble away were futile, his movements slowing as my grip tightened around his neck. His breath was ragged, his body trembling, and I could feel his pulse under my fingers, rapid and desperate. But I didn't let go. Instead, I applied more pressure, watching as his eyes bulged, desperation growing in his expression.
The air around us hummed with the sickening sound of his heart struggling to keep up. Blood dripped from my hands, from the remnants of his friend, staining the dirt below us. My body thrummed with hunger, my senses alive in the chaos.
As the vampire's body trembled under my grip, I leaned in, letting the heat of his blood, mixed with the stench of fear, fill my senses. His pulse hammered against my hand, frantic.
I twisted him, forcing him to look up at me with panic-stricken eyes. My grip on his neck didn't falter. His body jerked slightly in resistance, but there was nowhere to go. He knew it.
"You talk," I said, my voice calm, as if I were asking for something casual. But there was nothing casual about it. "Tell me what you know. Or I'll let you see how quickly I can drain the life from you."
The vampire's mouth worked as if he was about to speak, but only hoarse gasps came out. He tried to swallow, blood trickling from his nose as I squeezed just a little harder, just enough to make him feel the weight of his mortality.
"How do you choose your victims?" I growled, my voice low and sharp.
He swallowed hard, and I could see the realization in his eyes that he wasn't getting out of this. His hands trembled slightly as he tried to gather his composure.
"Sometimes, it's just... instinct," he started nervously. "But mostly, it's... those who catch our attention. Humans who are alone."
"Every day, how many do you... collect?" I asked, leaning in closer, forcing him to look directly at me. My voice was smooth and steady, but the bloodlust simmering beneath it was palpable.
His answer was almost a whisper. "A handful... a few. Maybe five to ten... it depends." His face contorted, like he was calculating how much to give away. "We don't—don't usually... take more than we can manage."
I let the information sink in before asking the next question, my voice colder than before. "Where do you store them?" I felt the words slip out of me like a cold breeze as I watched his face.
The vampire hesitated, a flicker of recognition passing through his eyes. He had expected the question, but he didn't want to give me the answer. But there was no escaping it.
"They—" He hesitated again, but the panic in his voice gave him away. "They're kept... in a place. Somewhere secure. It's... where we keep the ones we want to keep for later."
His words hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of them press down on me. The thought of humans being taken—Jo being taken and stored away like cattle—it set something dark in motion in my mind.
"I said," I repeated slowly, tightening my grip again, "Where?"
He froze, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The answer was on the tip of his tongue, but the terror was too much. He couldn't handle it anymore.
"I... I don't know..." he rasped, shaking his head. "It's not me who makes the final call. I—I'm just part of the process."
I felt his panic begin to flare, and I leaned in closer, forcing him to meet my eyes. "I don't believe you. You're going to tell me where they're being held. Every last detail, or I'll make sure you regret it."
The vampire's body stiffened, and his lips quivered as he tried to speak, his mind scrambling for a way out. But he knew he was trapped. He could feel his time running out.
With a final, panicked breath, the words tumbled out. "A warehouse. It's near a former factory on the outskirts of suburbia. It's... hidden. You can't find it unless you know where to look. Please—don't kill me."
My lips curled into something between a sneer and a smile, and I nodded slowly, as if pleased with his cooperation. "Good," I said, almost conversationally. "You're going to draw me a map."
He stared at me, confusion flickering in his eyes, but it was only for a split second before I moved. In one smooth, effortless motion, my other hand shot out and before he could even react, I sliced the tip of his finger clean off. The blood sprayed, warm and rich, staining the earth beneath us as he screamed in agony.
His eyes were wide with fear, his chest heaving as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Blood poured from his severed finger but I didn't care for his pain. I wanted answers, and I was going to get them.
The vampire gasped, his breath catching in his throat as the pain wracked his body. "I... I'll draw it," he stammered, his eyes frantic as he understood the full weight of my threat. "I'll draw it! Just... just don't kill me."
Slowly, he began dragging the tip of his bloodied finger through the ground, his movements shaky and erratic. The map he started drawing was a crude thing, rough lines and frantic strokes, but I could make sense of it.
His hands were shaking so violently now that the blood was splattering the dirt. The sight of the trembling vampire, his blood mixing with the dirt as he desperately worked to finish the map, was too much. A ferocious smile stretched across my lips, the sensation sharp and predatory. My bones ached with the hunger that rose from deep within me, the monster in me stirring.
It purred with an almost insistent hunger, its presence growing inside, clawing at the edges of my sanity. The blood that dripped from the vampire, warm and rich, taunted me. It beckoned, urged me to give in to the violent urges that thrummed in my veins.
I could feel my hands twitching, my fingers tightening around his throat. The monster wanted him—no, it needed him. It wanted to sink its teeth into that trembling creature, to taste his fear, to devour him whole. My mind flashed with images of tearing into the vampire's soft flesh, feeling his blood spill, its warmth on my skin, its power flowing through me.
The urge was almost unbearable, the hunger clawing at me, pushing me to the brink. The vampire's desperation only made it worse, his scent, his fear, mixing with the sweetness of his blood. I could almost hear the monster whispering to me, urging me to end him now, to make the vampire's struggle his last.
But I held back. Barely.
I let the violence simmer beneath the surface, my grip tight on the vampire's neck, forcing him to finish his task.
The vampire froze for a heartbeat, his shaking hand hovering over the dirt as he tried to steady himself. "Why?" he whispered, his voice hoarse, almost pleading. "You're a monster too. Why would you kill us for eating humans? It's... it's the way of nature. It's how we survive."
The question hung in the air. My smile wavered.
I leaned in closer, my grip tightening slightly on his neck, forcing his eyes to stay locked with mine. The words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them, my voice low, cold as ice.
"I didn't kill you because you eat humans."
My smile stretched again, but this time, it was laced with something darker, something primal. "I kill you because you hunted my human."
I watched as his breath hitched, realization flashing across his face—too late. I leaned in closer, my voice a harsh whisper, dripping with menace. "Finish the map."
The vampire's body shook with terror, but he didn't resist. With a final, trembling breath, his hand hovered over the dirt, his fingers working to trace the last line of the crude map.
His hand faltered for just a split second, but I didn't wait. I moved, the beast in me roaring with hunger, with rage. Before his eyes could even fully widen with understanding, I ripped his head from his shoulders.
The sickening crack and tear of his neck were followed by the warm, slick rush of blood, spraying across my chest. I let it coat me, letting the warmth of his life slip away as the vampire's body slumped in the dirt. His head tumbled, rolling a few inches away, eyes wide and vacant, the horror of his fate frozen in place.
I stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, the pulse of blood still echoing in my veins. The monster inside of me was purring in satisfaction, a raw, primal need satisfied. My gaze fell to the map, now complete, the dirt smeared with blood and death.
I flicked the cigarette lighter open, the flame illuminating the bloodstained landscape around me for a moment. I didn't care about the blood dripping from my hands, soaking into my clothes, or staining my skin.
The sharp scent of burnt tobacco mingled with the metallic tang of blood in the air. Then, I heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps.
Des. I didn't have to look to know it was him. His scent reached me before the heavy thump of his boots hit the ground. He took a moment to survey the scene, his eyes scanning the remains of the fight, the bodies crumpled in the dirt. I didn't need to see his expression to know exactly what was going through his mind.
He was quiet for a few seconds, his gaze flicking from the blood to the mess I'd left behind. Then, he spoke, his voice low and sharp. "This wasn't clean. This was personal."
I didn't answer at first, just letting the smoke swirl in front of me. Des was sharp. He'd know the difference between a well-executed, cold kill and something that burned with a darker, more personal edge.
Finally, I exhaled a cloud of smoke, the harsh exhale cutting through the silence between us. My eyes flicked toward the dirt where the map lay, blood staining the lines, the vampire's final mark etched into the earth.
"There are humans stored there," I said, my voice flat. I didn't need to say more. Des could read the situation and see what I was getting at.
Des reached out, and without hesitation, I handed him my phone. My fingers brushed against the cold surface as I passed it over, leaving dark crimson fingerprints on the case. The blood smeared, and the dark, sticky hue seemed almost fitting in the moment. But Des didn't seem bothered by it.
His finger tapped away. But then... he froze. He stared at the screen for a second, his thumb hovering over the keys, ready to add his number. His hand went still, and his gaze locked onto the device, his jaw clenched just slightly. The phone sat heavy in his hand, like it carried more weight than it should.
I waited, watching the way his expression shifted, something hardening in his features as he processed whatever it was that had stopped him in his tracks. His lips parted, as if to say something, but his words seemed to get caught somewhere inside.
"Everything alright?" I asked, the tension in the air thickening with each passing second.
Des blinked, his eyes narrowing at the phone screen like he was trying to solve an unsolvable riddle. He didn't immediately respond, and the air grew thicker with his silence.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling creeping in. "Des?"
He still didn't look up. I could practically hear the gears in his head grinding, and I was starting to get that familiar feeling that something... weird was about to happen. And when it did, I wasn't going to be able to stop it. I took a slow drag from my cigarette, watching him with a sense of dread that started to feel familiar.
His lips parted, just a little, and then... pout. An unmistakable, childish pout, like a toddler who'd just had his favorite toy snatched away.
"Who. The hell. Is this?" Des's voice was dripping with suspicion.
I glanced at the screen, then back at him. "What?"
"Your Coolest Big Brother Zack?" Des said, his voice taking on a dramatic tone, like he was reading from a soap opera script. He was absolutely losing it. His eyes were practically burning holes in the screen of my phone as he gaped at the name again, and it was honestly starting to look like he was about to implode. His face was a mix of confusion, rage, and a touch of betrayal.
I blinked. "Oh, that? It's—"
"WHO. IS. THIS. ZACK?" Des demanded, his voice growing louder with each word, his fingers flexing like he was getting ready to choke someone.
I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Des, relax. Seriously."
Oh, hell. I had to stop this before it turned into an incident.
"I WILL NOT RELAX!" Des shouted, his hands gripping the phone like he was about to toss it into the nearest trash bin. "Why is he calling himself Your Coolest Big Brother Zack? So, you just... you let someone put that in your phone and call himself big brother?! Tell me if you replaced me with another big brother while we were apart. Is this some sort of joke?!"
With one swift move, I grabbed the phone back out of Des' hands, holding it away from his grasp as he made a dramatic, wide-eyed reach for it.
"No," I muttered, resisting the urge to laugh at how absolutely unhinged he was getting. "You're being retarded."
Des froze. For a moment, all sound seemed to disappear, and his eyes flickered from my phone to my face in complete disbelief. He stared at me like I'd just punched him in the gut, his bottom lip trembling.
"Did you... did you just call me that?" Des whispered, voice cracking as if he'd just been hit with a ton of bricks.
"Stop it, you're being ridiculous." I quickly saved Des's number. I deleted the words 'coolest big brother and I typed in the new contact name: [My Retarded Brother].
Des blinked, then stared at the phone screen in complete horror as the name appeared before his eyes. His jaw went slack, and a loud, drawn-out whine escaped him.
"Noooooooo!" he whined, but there was no ignoring the tear in his voice. "Why do you have to do this to me?!"
"I swear to God, Shay," he muttered. "You really are the worst brother."
I smiled wickedly. "You're welcome."
Des shot me a side-eye. "You just don't understand, do you? I've been replaced. My little brother is calling someone else 'coolest big brother.'"
"Des," I said flatly, "You're my retarded brother, and that's all that matters."
Des didn't even know how to respond to that. I threw the cigarette to the ground, crushing it underfoot.