I'm back with another Blade story :) This story follows the alternative ending (Director's Cut) of Blade Trinity, so it's really Blade that they find at the end, and not Drake in his Blade transformation. I'm not sure if I got everything right, or that I made a lot of mistakes, I wrote this at night and continued after I had slept a couple of hours. :p So please forgive me if I overlooked something. Anyway, on to the story! Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for this story.
Thirst
Blade and Drake lay on the smashed concrete. The fight between warriors was over. A heated battle with two worlds at stake. The Lord of Vampires knew when he was defeated. The Hunter had won. The strange liquid he had been injected with seemed to work and he could feel life leaving his body. It was the end of the line for him. He was dying. There was nothing he could do about it. He slowly turned his head and eyed Blade, the hunter they all feared so much. Now he understood why.
'Funny, isn't it? All this time, my people were trying to create a new kind of vampire when one already existed. I don't need to survive. The future of our race rests with you. You fought with honor. I respect that. But remember this. Sooner or later, the thirst always wins.'
Blade snorted and looked at the ceiling. He wasn't sure whether to be surprised, shocked or disgusted. All he had ever done was fight against vampires. Securing the existence of the human race and of course persuing his personal vendetta. It was becauce of them he had never been able to lead a normal life. They took his fuckin' life away. He would never turn to their side.
His mind was becoming strangely clouded & so was his vision. Did the virus affect him after all? Was he going to die? They didn't have enough time to test it properly so anything was possible. But he.. he didn't want to die. He really didn't.
'Sooner or later, the thirst always wins.' Drake's words lingered on in his troubled mind. He couldn't give in. He had to stay strong. Have to.. stay strong..
Not long after he lost all contact with reality as the world before his eyes blackened and his body succumbed to darkness.
Voices. Distant sounds. People were talking to each other. The vampire hunter slowly opened his eyes and winced as a blinding light from above pained his eyes. Where was he? He tried to concentrate on deciphering the words, but he couldn't make anything useful out. It was all blurred. The sound of his heart, a steady rhythm, pounded loudly in his ears like African drums. His heightened senses did pick up an odd, sickingly smell. The smell of.. dead bodies. That could only mean one thing. The morgue.
But why? Why was he here? He wasn't dead. So what happened then? He tried to remember something..anything but it wasn't easy. He felt tired and his body hurt. He felt like he had been hit by a truck, though he was pretty sure that wasn't the case. Drake..That name seemed to be stuck in his mind but he couldn't place it no matter how hard he tried. He repeated it over and over in his mind hoping to trigger his memory.. and it did. Everything seemed to fall into place. The fight with Drake.. The Nightstalkers.. The virus.. The virus! Yes! That had to be it. The Daystar virus. It probably affected him in some other way and instead of killing him - for it was developed to destroy all vampires - it must have slowed or shut down his body functions temporarely, making it look like he was really dead. They transferred him to the morgue where they could examine him further and look for the cause of death. It all made sense. Well, he would have to disappoint them. He was still alive, but he wasn't going to let them know right away. So they think i'm dead.. I can play along for a while.. and then i'm getting the hell out. His thoughts turned to Drake and those final words that made his blood run cold. The thirst always wins.. Could that bloodsucker be right after all? He tried to ban the horrible images of him feeding on people from his mind. He would never see or treat humans as mere cattle for the pack of hungry wolves. He would never be able to live with himself if he turned into the thing that he had been hunting for almost his whole life. Then, and only then, he would truly become one of them. Now he was still different. Besides, he didn't need Blade the vampire anymore. As far as he knew the virus was a success so there was no need for him to hold onto his dark side. He could finaly let go and search for a cure. A normal life awaited him.
A normal life.. one without Whistler. The man who gave his life for him. His mentor, friend and right hand in his crusade against the vampire nation. The man who he thought of as a father, the man who cared for him as a son. That man.. he was gone. He wouldn't be able to enjoy a world without the ever present threat of vampires. Why old man.. Why? Why did you do it? Why? Blade knew the answer to that but it didn't make things more bearable. Understandable yes, but not less painful. His mind dug deeper into the old box of forgotten memories when all of a sudden he found himself not thinking straight anymore. All normal thoughts seemed to have vanished from his mind and were replaced by the repulsive drive for blood. His mouth became very dry. He felt utterly vamished. He felt like someone who had just travelled for days without any water in the scorching heat of the dessert. It didn't take Blade long to figure out what was happening. It was very clear to both sides of his being. The thirst was kicking in.
How long had it been since his last intake of serum? It had to be hours. Way too many hours going from the way he felt. With him being 'dead' he hadn't been able to get another dose. Every muscle in his body started to ache from restraining himself from jumping off the table and pouncing on the first human he would come across. But how much longer was he going to withstand the torture before his mind and body would succumb? Was he strong enough to hold on? He could almost see that asshole of a Drake laughing at him with a smug 'told you so' written on his face. You are not like him Blade.. You are better.
Again he heard them. Those same voices. Only now they sounded much closer. Blade lay absolutely still, eyes shut tight. The intoxicating fragrance of human flesh seemed stronger than ever. The air was filled with it. It was everywhere. He sensed the humans near him. They were so close he could almost feel the softness of their skin against his lips, almost taste their blood on his tongue. That sweet delicious crimson liquid. It nearly drove him insane and every ounce of self control was needed to keep him from moving. How in the world was he going to get through this? He'd rather chew off his own arm than to.. This could not be happening. But it was. It was happening.
You can't give in. Not now. Not ever. Fight it, Blade. Fight it, you son of a bitch. Fight.
But the evil inside of him was rapidly taking control. And he knew it. He tried so hard. It was just too much. The feeling of cold metal pressed against his skin alerted him of what was about to happen in the room. His eyes immediately popped open, rage within them. These people were on the verge of slicing him open like a turkey on Thanksgiving day. The absolute shock written on their ignorant faces pulled a half smile to his lips. They didn't have a clue as to what was going on. Could he blame them? No. It wasn't every day that one got a living corpse on the autopsy table. His mind drifted to other, more deadly thoughts, strengthtened by his lust for blood, maddening him to the point that he completely lost it. He smiled evily and jumped upright.
The animal was no longer imprisoned.
He grabbed the older man to his left by his long white coat and lifted him up like he weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. He threw him across the room, slamming him so hard into the wall that the sound of crushing bones could be heard. The other one tried to run but he didn't get far. Blade easily caught him and broke his neck, the bones snapping like twigs. He dropped the lifeless body on the floor, leaving it there for others to find. The desperate cries of a young woman attracted his attention. From the way she smelled he knew he would enjoy taking her.
Like a black panther he stalked towards his prey. She slowly backed away from him, her eyes filled with fear and unshed tears. The woman was upset, no doubt about it. She had witnessed a man coming back from the dead and two murders in less than a few seconds. It would be too much to handle for any normal person. A sadistic grin krept on his face, baring his snow white fangs, as he took another step closer to the frightened woman. He didn't care much for her distress, only one thing mattered now. It was to feed.
Everything around him seemed to dissolve. He only had eyes for the young woman, who had her back pressed against the wall. She was trapped like a mouse by a hungry cat. The evil smile plastered on his face disappeared and was replaced by a stone cold expression. Everything about him screamed death. Then he lunged at her. A high pitched scream erupted from her lips before the airsupply to her lungs was cut off by Blade's firm grip on her throat, nearly choking her. His other hand moved to caress the side of her face so gently it seemed surreal, before pushing it to the side. His nostrils flared, breathing in her exotic perfume. The frantic beat of her heart assaulted his ears. She trembled uncontrolably, terrified of what he would do to her. He revelled in her fear. It only excited him more. The woman closed her eyes, the build up tears finally released and wetting her cheeks.
Blade watched her closely. Her beautiful neck exposed. Such an innocent, defenseless human. Yes, Innocent. Like most others whom he had tried to spare the fate of being turned into a hominus nocturna, whom he had ended their lives to put a stop to their suffering. No Blade. This.. this isn't right. What are you doing? You can't.. Stop it! Stop it now! Reluctantly he loosened his vice like grip on her throat. It was likely to leave some nasty bruises behind. His other hand fell away from her face, now clenched into a fist at his side. He seemed to awaken from his delirious state of mind. He also realised he had nearly sunk his fangs into the poor woman's carotid artery. Breathing heavily, he tried with every fiber of his being to maintain some control over the situation, before it really got out of hand. He could not continue this path of destruction. He had to get a grip on himself. He had to stop hurting people. He couldn't let the thirst win. He couldn't let the beast take control.
Blade then remembered a conversation he once had with Nyssa. She had come to terms with being a vampire. She understood and accepted the thirst.
Blade loaded an ampoule of serum into a gas powered pistol-injector. Nyssa watched intently from behind him. 'Why do you hate us so much?' She had the courage to ask, but tension obviously showed in her voice. He knew that she knew it was a very sensitive subject for him.
He chuckled bitterly. Without so much glancing at her, he took a seat, readying the pistol to inject him with the lightblue liquid. 'It's fate. It's in my blood.' What else was there to do but hate them.. They destroyed his chance on a normal life. They took his mother away from him and turned her into the thing he hunted. Made him into a creature torn between two worlds. Made his life a living hell.
'Well, it's in mine too. I'm a pureblood. I was born a vampire.' Nyssa countered. Blade could respect her point of view, but he didn't look at it the way she did. He was different. He still had his human side. Human emotions he had to deal with. He simply couldn't ignore it. He couldn't risk losing his humanity. It was all he had left.
He stayed silent and heard her open the door to exit the room. 'You know the thirst better than any of us, shooting that serum of yours. The only difference between us, is that I made peace with what I am a long time ago.' She left without another word, the door closed with a small thud. He eyed the pistol and then laid it down on the table. He wondered how much longer he would be able to keep the thirst in check. He had started doing so ever since Whistler found him on the streets. He had been living of the homeless. A pretty traumatizing experience for a young boy, still a part of him had revelled in the thrills that the hunt evoked. That was the part that scared him the most. He never wanted to drink blood again so from that moment he started taking the serum that the old man set up for him. But after all those years, his body had started to build up an inmuun system. Luckily with the help of a certain someone, they managed to come up with a better working serum.
Still it left one question unanswered. Could he do it, too? Could he make peace with what he was? He didn't know. There were times that he truly hated himself, but.. Well, maybe he could. In a way he already had. He used their strengths against them. It was only that one particular and yes quite big aspect of his vampirism, the thirst, that he might never be able to accept. In fact, he despised it. Oh what was he thinking.. He already knew the answer. With a deep frustrated sigh, the dark skinned man reached for his serum. - Never.
How could he lower himself to such a despicable level and betray everything he and Whistler had fought for? Like hell he would. He took a deep breath, somewhat trying to relieve the pain he was feeling at the moment. He would endure it. He would stay strong. The woman was still staring at him, eyes wide with fear and at the same time, utter confusion. His eyes were never that of a human, but he knew now they must have looked even more unnatural and unworldly. He completely released his hold on the young assistant and took a few steps backwards, putting a decent amount of space between them. The woman rubbed her throat while coughing hard, her face pulled into a grimace. He needed to stay away from humans as much as possible. At least until he had his serum. He was just too great of a treat to them now.
'Get out.' Blade growled dangerously low. He got agitated when she didn't move an inch. 'I'm not going to say it again..' His eyes were still locked onto hers. He didn't have time for this! More seconds passed before the shock seemed to have left her body and she dared to move again. With one last look at the bodies of her former colleagues, she fled from the room. He made a quick mental list of things to do. There was absolutely no time to lose. She would go alert the others and the FBI would surely be notified. They would hunt him down like some animal. How ironic, really. Besides he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold onto his sanity. He needed to get his hands on some serum, fast! He needed to get to Abigail and King. They would be able to help him out for the time being. If not.. He didn't dare to think about the consequences, about.. No..no.. NO! Stop it!
An image of his mother entered his mind. But unlike the image that used to haunt his dreams, turning them into nightmares, this one wasn't covered in blood and reaching out to him. It was an image from that time at the Temple of Eternal Night. I have hunted, I have killed.. and I have enjoyed it. Those had been the hollow words of his presumed to be dead mother. Oh he remembered it well. She had tried to sweet talk him into joining their little vampire club. That woman, his 'mother', had turned her back on him the moment she went with Frost. She had even tried to kill him. And all for those he hated with such a passion. That hadn't been his mother. His real mother died in that hospital bed after she gave birth to him.
Haven't you? He wouldn't lie. He had. But he was just a kid then. Alone and confused. He didn't know any better. Hell, at the time, he didn't even know he was part vampire. It wasn't until Whistler found him that the bits and pieces of the puzzle seemed to come together. He was stunned to find out he was actually a half breed. It did explain quite a lot. His whole life was turned upside down. But it had only been the beginning for him. The birth of Blade, Vampire Hunter, Daywalker. A small smile formed on his lips. Blade looked to his right, taking in the lifeless bodies sprawled across the floor. He licked his lips and swallowed hard. This wasn't a set back that he couldn't overcome. He knew on which side he stood. That would never change. Holding onto that thought he sprinted from the battered room in search of clothes. He knew where to go first. And as soon as this problem was taken care off he would go pay someone a special visit. Someone he hadn't seen in years. Someone he knew he could trust with his life. The one person that might be able to end his torture. For good.
'It's time for that miracle cure, doc.'
I hope you liked it. R&R.