Eric slumped to the ground, too weak to stand, his body trembling with confusion and terror. He had expected death—had even welcomed it in some fleeting, desperate corner of his mind. But Alaric's words rang in his ears, sending a chill down his spine that lingered long after the monster turned his back to him.
Alaric took a step away, his presence as heavy and oppressive as ever. Eric watched him with wide, fearful eyes, too overwhelmed to speak. The hunger, the gnawing emptiness inside him, hadn't left. If anything, it had only deepened after Alaric's bite.
"I don't know where to go," Eric rasped, his voice raw, barely more than a whisper. Alaric paused but didn't turn to face him. Desperation clawed at Eric's insides, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "I can't go back. I'm a monster... just like you."
Alaric's shoulders stiffened, his annoyance palpable in the tense silence that followed. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing with barely concealed contempt. "You think that makes us the same?" His voice was icy, dripping with disdain.
Eric swallowed hard, his throat aching, but he forced himself to meet Alaric's gaze. "I don't know what I am anymore," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I don't belong anywhere. I don't even belong to myself."
Alaric's eyes flashed with something unreadable—anger, perhaps, or pity. "Pathetic," he spat, though there was no real venom in his voice. He took a step closer, looming over Eric, his presence suffocating. "You don't belong to anyone or anywhere because you *refuse* to take responsibility over your new life."
Eric's breath hitched, his gaze falling to the ground. "I tried. But... it never ends. The hunger. The fear. I'm... lost."
Alaric's sneer deepened, but he didn't move. The night pressed in around them, the silence heavy, broken only by the distant cries of the night creatures that lurked in the shadows. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Alaric sighed, exasperation seeping into his tone. "You are weak. Following me will not change that." He turned again, his steps slow and deliberate, as though daring Eric to try again.
But Eric didn't rise. Instead, he stayed there, slumped against the wall, his body and mind exhausted. "Maybe," he said quietly, almost to himself, "but I have nowhere else to go."
Alaric stopped, the weight of Eric's words sinking into the space between them. For the first time, something in Alaric softened—just slightly, just enough for a flicker of recognition to pass through his cold eyes. He glanced over his shoulder, watching the broken vampire at his feet.
"Then you'll follow me to your ruin," Alaric said, his voice low, almost thoughtful.
Eric nodded, his eyes hollow but resolute. He had no illusions of salvation. But in Alaric's shadow, perhaps he could find something—anything—to anchor himself. Even if it was destruction.
Without another word, Alaric turned and disappeared into the night, the darkness swallowing him whole. Eric, trembling, pulled himself to his feet, staggering after him like a moth to a flame.
________
Eric trailed behind Alaric at a distance, his steps hesitant but determined. The night had deepened, and the moonlight cast a ghostly glow over Alaric's figure, illuminating the streaks of blood smeared across his naked form. Alaric walked with the same predatory grace as always, his movements fluid despite the weight of his existence.
Eric's mind was spinning, unable to shake the unsettling mixture of fear and admiration. Alaric was different. Dangerous. Unpredictable. But there was something about the way the blood clung to his skin, shining in the pale light, that made Eric's throat tighten. He watched as Alaric moved effortlessly through the forest, seemingly unbothered by the blood drying on his skin.
Finally, Eric cleared his throat, his voice breaking the silence between them. "Do you… want to bathe?"
Alaric didn't slow his pace, but his head turned slightly, acknowledging Eric's words. His brow furrowed in mild confusion, as if the question had caught him off guard.
Eric continued, hesitant. "You're… covered in blood."
Alaric stopped abruptly, turning to face Eric, his dark eyes narrowing. The stillness of his body was unnerving, like a statue poised to strike. He glanced down at his bloodied form, the crimson stains stark against his pale skin. His lips twisted into a faint, sardonic smile.
"And where, exactly, do you propose we do that?" Alaric asked, his voice smooth and edged with amusement. "There is no lake nearby, no river. How would you have me cleanse myself?"
Eric blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "Uh… there's… there's no lake, but I—well, I meant a shower." He gestured vaguely toward the horizon, as if that would clarify things. "You know, to wash it off."
Alaric's brow furrowed deeper, his expression growing more perplexed. He tilted his head slightly, as though trying to make sense of the word. "A *shower*?"
Eric hesitated. He hadn't considered that Alaric, who had clearly existed for centuries, might not understand something as modern as a shower. "It's, uh… a way to wash yourself. Like… water, but it falls from above. You stand under it."
Alaric stared at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing further, skepticism mingling with curiosity. "You stand beneath falling water… indoors?"
Eric nodded, feeling somewhat ridiculous for trying to explain. "Yeah. It's quicker than bathing in a lake or a river. The water is controlled, so you don't need to travel anywhere."
Alaric's lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "How… quaint," he murmured, his voice laced with disbelief. "You mortals have grown too accustomed to your luxuries."
Eric shifted uneasily under Alaric's gaze, feeling the weight of the vampire's ancient mind processing this modern idea. Alaric had seen the rise and fall of civilizations, had bathed in the waters of ancient rivers and lakes. The idea of a shower was likely as alien to him as the very concept of electricity.
"Where I come from," Alaric said, his voice soft and distant, "bathing was a ritual, a thing of patience and care. We would travel to the river's edge, submerge ourselves in the cool, running water. It was not merely to wash away the dirt… it was to cleanse the soul."
His eyes flicked to Eric's, a dark glint of something unreadable in them. "Your modern conveniences… they seem to have stripped away that reverence."
Eric swallowed, unsure how to respond. He hadn't thought of it like that. "I guess… things have changed. But… you can still try it. It's not the same as a river, but it gets the job done."
Alaric's eyes lingered on Eric for a moment longer before he huffed, turning away once more. "Perhaps." He began walking again, his steps slow, contemplative. "But I do not need to wash."
Eric hesitated, then followed, his voice softer this time. "You look like you could use it."
Alaric glanced back, his dark eyes gleaming with that familiar predatory glint. "Do I?"
Eric nodded, his throat tightening as he watched the blood-streaked muscles of Alaric's back ripple with every step. "Yes."
For a moment, there was silence between them, the forest holding its breath as the two figures moved deeper into the shadows. Then Alaric spoke, his voice lower, softer, almost teasing.
"Very well, then," he said, glancing over his shoulder with that dangerous smile. "Show me your modern ways, little vampire."