Disclaimer: I do not own The Lost Boys.
She said she had to pee.
Her eyes were wet and sore from the smoke that filtered up from the pit; a number of logs, cans and other extremities had been thrown in during the last portions of the night and the smell was almost rancid, though the beer helped to keep her doubling over.
Paul was on guard-duty, dragging her to the party in the first place, tossing a cold-one in those hands and telling her to chill out while he mingled with all the other young, pretty things that had gathered, some still in bikini's while others paraded in short-shorts and colorful tank tops. She was dressed in tight-fitting pants, a simple white shirt with clips in her black hair to hold it out of her face. She hated the beer but drank four of them anyway, to help ease herself into the situation and gain whatever courage she could for the moments ahead.
The blade was heavy in her pocket. Old-fashioned razor, the kind seen in the older movies where a barber is inches away from slicing open a man's neck as he delicately shaves that foam-covered throat. She'd found it amongst the debris that littered the cave, keeping it hidden and waiting for a night like this to occur.
A night where she continually pestered and whined to David in just the way he hated so that he would send her out of the cave with one of the others to watch her carefully. Normally, the guard was either Dwayne or Marko, but both had other plans tonight and Paul, the wily blonde with a head full of dreams and pants full of unsatisfied cock, had nothing but a party to attend. He'd been stuck with her and from the look he gave when she announced she needed to use the bathroom, she would be guaranteed no interruptions.
She was pointed in the direction of the nearest bathroom that happened to be a good distance away towards the edge of the beach itself. Trudging through the sand, hands fell to those pockets once more and fingers tingled as they ran against the smooth portion of the blade.
Her mind was reeling. David had told her something about how the human mind was an incredible thing because no matter what the situation, it always tried to keep the body alive for as long as it possibly could. To demonstrate his point, he had drained a couple of girls that had been invited back to the cave and forced her to watch as they were all but bloodless and yet still, they crawled weakly along the ground, searching for a way out of this nightmare.
Afterwards when she was sobbing for him to stop and put an end to their lives, he would always tell her that it was a "commencement to your education as a wannabe fledgling."
And she never felt so ashamed.
It was true, though. In the time before she had met David and the others, she had wanted nothing more than to become a vampire. The obsession started with movies, books, posters and bands. The stuff of the Devil and all things considered blasphemy to her uptight, born-again Christian family.
It was a rush; disobeying her parents as she stayed out late, dyed her hair jet black and wore clothing that would make their priest die of a heart attack. It felt good to be rebellious and at first, she did it only to spite them and to gain a sort of freedom from their rules.
But after awhile… it started to be more than just a game. She started to seriously look into the books she was reading. The claims of vampires existing throughout history and daydreaming for hours on end what it would be like to become one of them.
Young, immortal and sexy forever. That was the slogan.
And then, as though through some dark force, her prayers had been answered. It had happened during a hot, summer night beneath the pier. Five of them had gathered, four girls and one guy named Kevin, sitting within a circle of candles and chanting softly as they read from their individual copies of the Necromancer.
Kevin kept slurring and ruining the rhythm, though she could feel a dynamic force within the air as she spoke the words softly and shut her eyes, imagining the demons and the power that they were attempting to summon. The winds had howled, candles blowing out one by one around them as voices trailed off and eyes immediately looked to the sky.
It was hard to hear at first. Almost like the sound of giant, flapping wings descending down from the darkness upon them. And moments later, they would find that they were right.
There were four of them; the ones she knew now as Paul, Marko, Dwayne and David, each swooping in and seizing a victim up into the air, letting them scream for personal affect before fangs sunk deep into their twisting necks. Kevin, his girlfriend and the two others were taken, leaving her to sit stunned and watch as blood dropped down from the darkness like a spring rain.
Her mind had been reeling then as well, but years in the darkness had made her a little more sturdy than others and as the bodies of her friends were dropped around her, she managed only a few, desperate screams.
And then, the shadows descended and took form. To her right, a kid that looked to be only a year or so younger than her with spirals of golden hair falling around pale cheeks and deceiving puppy-dog eyes. To her left, another blonde with hair that hadn't seen a brush in ages, licking the blood from his lips and giving her what could only be described as a predatorily stare, up an down the curve of her hunched body. In front of her, a dark-haired man with eyes that seethed angrily into her own and an expression of complete contempt, as though she were entirely beneath him except as possible prey.
And finally… behind her…
Body shuddered as she pushed open the door to the neon-lit bathroom, pausing for a moment in speculative disgust at her surroundings and the idea that she might be found here. It certainly wasn't the way she had hoped to someday be found. The countless suicide notes and cries for attention had all been in vain and she knew now that there had been no dignity in those false pleas.
She knew now that death was means of true release, not revenge.
Again, David had been the one to teach her that. Standing behind her that night beneath the pier, she had finally managed to rise to her feet, turning around and staring with wide, awe-shocked eyes at the villain standing before her. A small trail of blood was at the corner of his mouth and eyes were like razors themselves, cutting into her with all the care and precision of a heart-surgeon.
In an instant, he knew who she was, why she was here and every little secret that had been in her heart and soul. Every desire and whim.
Lips pulled back into a charmingly evil laugh as he finally released her from his gaze and looked around at each of his gang.
"Looks like we finally caught ourselves a wannabe, boys," he said.
The curly-top kid smirked while the wily blonde laughed and the dark-haired native only glared harder. Her body shook uncontrollably as she watched them all, mouth opening and closing repeatedly like a fish. David seemed to find this amusing as he tilted his head and gave her a considering look.
"What's the matter? Aren't we what you've been searching for all this time?" he asked in a snide voice.
"Yea, we've been following you around for a week, girl, you can't hide your secrets from us," said the wily blonde.
The words hardly seemed to register at first. All she could hear was the pounding in her head and the laughter from the boys as the circle around her grew tighter. The bodies of her friends were still twitching upon the sand as blood glittered like tiny red jewels all over their bodies.
"Y-y-you're vampires?" she had asked, her voice shaking.
Without missing a beat, David stepped closer and smiled, baring two sets of fangs.
"Yes," he said. "And we've been waiting for you."
Eyes blinked, catching her reflection in the foggy mirror. The moment he'd said that, it was as though all her dreams had come true. Even the death of her friends couldn't rip her away from that single, perfect moment when the darkness came over her and she felt the bite of those fangs along her neck.
Her smile was bitter.
It had been nothing but cheap tricks and lies. Nothing but servitude and death from that moment on, with only a whisper of the immortality that she no longer desired.
It was easy to imagine being a vampire, because the reality of it simply doesn't exist in fantasies the minds create. She'd never thought of killing… actually draining another person dry of their blood and feeling them struggle and beg for their lives all while it happened. Their screams echoed within her ears hours after they were dead and their corpses were either burned or tossed into the ocean for the hungry waves. David didn't discriminate either.
Men, women, even a few that were still kids were taken to the cave and seduced for a few hours before the boys grew tired of their games. Even though she tried to send silent signals and give them chances to escape, the humans never picked up on it until it was too late. In the final moments, some would run and try to break free. Others would stay and fight, getting in a few good hits that did little to stop their predators. But most, however, would simply scream.
Beg.
Plead and cry out for mercy as they were drained.
If anything, she preferred the way Paul handled his victims. The nights that he was alone with a girl in the cave, he would seduce her in every sense of the word, drawing her into the deeper portions of the fallen hotel where the only source of light was a dozen lit candles around an enormous, plush bed. There he would make love to her, taking bites here and there from her flesh while she was too preoccupied to notice. And as they reached climax, she would die and Paul would be left with a cooling corpse and that cool grin spread like the Cheshire cat, across his face.
Marko was an entirely different story. The vampire's appetite changed almost nightly though no matter what or who he was feeding on, the outcome would be one of absolute cruelty. He loved to torment them, to tease and drive them into madness before he took that final bite. Sometimes he would let them think they got away before he swooped down to pick them up, draining them in the air.
With Dwayne, the kill was usually fast and relatively painless. He wasn't picky, though there were nights when he would follow Paul's example and take a pretty girl with him back into the recesses of the cave, returning an hour or so later by himself.
And David…
Her eyes welled with tears as she moved away from the mirror towards the last, empty stall, locking herself inside and sitting on the greasy toilet, burying her face inside her hands.
She'd stayed with the boys for almost three months now, avoiding her family that had issued a missing persons report and keeping her head down and eyes cast towards the ground whenever she was in public, afraid that if she looked up and into someone's face, they'd see the horrible sins she had committed in her time staying with these monsters.
It had been on the third night that David had forced her to drink blood. Not his own, of course, but another young girl who had been staring daggers at her all night and inching her way closer to David himself. During this time, reality had still not hit quite as hard and the boys had spared her the gruesome details of the killing sprees. She'd watched the girl curiously, knowing that David was going to take blood but not how or when.
The faces of her friends and their deaths seemed more and more distant as the nights rolled on, but she would soon come face to face with the truth once more as she watched David reach up with those sensually gloved fingers and trace the pale portion of her neck before gripping it solidly.
The girl squealed and smacked him, an action that caused those fingers to tighten and a sudden, sputter of choking to enter the air. Watching her with that same, spectator's interest, David would finally lean in and let those fangs sink into the soft, fleshy portion of that neck. The girl screamed, but it was nothing but a strung-out gurgle as the blood began to flow up like a red fountain from her neck. Her eyes had been glued to the scene and mouth opened in silent horror before she felt hands on either side of her body, forcing her up and to David's side.
Pulling away, tongue slicked over pale lips as eyes turned towards her and watched amused at her struggles. In was no use. One thing about vampires that Hollywood didn't lie about was their supernatural strength. She was drug to the side of that couch where the girl still lay gasping, choking on her own blood. Her mouth was pried open and like a puppy being taught to suckle, was forced against the wound.
She'd never gotten very far in her fantasies of vampirism, no matter how obsessed she had been. She never took blood from other people and while she had cut herself a number of times and took her own, it wasn't the same taste as the hot, coppery substance filled her mouth and forced her body to wrench and recoil.
David had laughed at this and almost every two weeks since then, she'd been forced into the same routine. Whether it was for amusement or he truly was attempting to teach her to drink blood, she couldn't tell. But she couldn't take it anymore.
The lights flickered as fingers reached into her pocket and pulled out the shining, silver blade. It was old, but dangerously sharp as she'd seen one of the boys use it before on their victims, feeling more creative that night than to let their fangs show.
The razor was pulled back and the tip of the blade brought down delicately upon her skin.
David was full of shit.
When just enough pressure was applied, anyone could commit suicide.