Disclaimer - Don't own Lost Boys
Edgar, in this, is... I couldn't say he is his usual, strong, confident self. Heads up for you to know before you read.
Warning - I have only watched the Thirst twice, so if you see something incorrect, do tell me.
The hurt, raw pain, and sadness, is what keeps Edgar going. It wasn't supposed to turn out like it had, but it did, and, now, Edgar feels the loneliness and anguish forming within. It suffocates him, and he sinks into the freezing cold, black iced water. It hurts, and the more it hurts, the more he sinks further into the dark, cold, abyss. Edgar is alone, and the alone depresses him. He feels suffocated with these feelings, but he fights, and he moves. It helps to block what he has lost, but no matter what, it keeps coming back to the surface. He's still keeping strong, and he is always here, there, and everywhere saving people, but he keeps finding himself back in the cold, bleak, darkness.
Edgar is fighting, and he is still doing his duties and tasks, but deep within, he is slowly sinking further and further into these emotions. The war with the vampires is still going strong and bloody, and his duties are increasing every night. Things are getting worse now, and the war has yet begun.
But there is a war in him that no one knows of. Alan isn't with him anymore, and it's slowly starting to sink in. Edgar's war is battling these emotions, and keeping strong...to keep fighting.
Edgar is out every night, stalking these vampires who stalk others, hunting these creatures who hunt others, and he destroys them. Yet, he hesitates every so often, and when he looks down at one of the undead, he sees his brother. Will his brother become one of these things? Will it happen sooner or later? Questions come when he stares into these dead eyes, when he sees the demonic face of the creature that lives for blood.
The feelings come back with a vengeance, and with hurt and anger in his heart, he drives his stake through the creatures heart. It screams in pure pain, and Edgar watches with a satisfied look. Inside, he is not feeling pleased like he usually does. It's one more bloodsucker off the earth, he has saved many from coming across this thing, yet he does not relish in the kill like he usually does.
Edgar cannot, and he cannot, because with every creature he comes across, stops and destroys, he thinks of Alan. When these beasts snarl and stare deep into his eyes, he sees a piece of Alan in them. His brother appears within them, and he hesitates. It has nearly cost him his life on several occasions.
They stare hungrily at the hunter who looks down at them, and there mouths drip with saliva. They are killing machines, monstrous, have no remorse for their victims, yet Edgar hesitates. And he knows he must not, he must kill them quickly. No hesitation, no going off task, and always, no matter what, watching his back. But it keeps happening.
Alan haunts him, and Edgar sees him as one of these creatures. Alan is fighting too, and he keeps fighting, but Edgar cannot stop being fearful.
When he goes back to his trailer, to the untidy messy trailer he calls home, all these feelings burst within. The walls close in on him, the silence stretches on, and Edgar silently sinks back into these emotions. He then weeps for losing his brother. He weeps for the things that have been lost, the things that should have been, and he weeps for fear his brother will finally give in and drink. There are no tears, but he weeps, and Edgar hates it.
He is ashamed at these thoughts he has for his brother, but he is scared. If Alan fully turns, there is no going back. He cannot be saved, and Edgar knows what must be done if it happens. Edgar promises every night that if his brother becomes a full vampire, he will hunt him, and when he finds him, he will drive a stake through his heart.
The thoughts he has, pains him, and the walls close in on him even more. Edgar can't breathe, he can't move. He's frozen, and his heart, that is ragged and sore, burns. Rage slowly comes then, and he feels rage because if Alan hadn't been forced to drink vampire blood, Edgar would be fine. He wouldn't be filled and bombarded with these hateful emotions.
It's all starting to become too much to bear. He searches for this vampire, searches for the one who can lift the curse that has been inflicted on his brother. With anger and pain in his mind and soul, he does not stop searching for the one who has destroyed what could have been with him and Alan.
Another night is gone, and Edgar returns to the trailer. He stands at the basin, wiping away pieces of flesh off his face, his eyes hollow and dark as he stares at himself in the mirror. He scrubs vigorously at his arms, getting rid of the dank, rich, oozing smell of vampires, all the while feeling disappointed.
It is another night of the feelings coming back, and Alan, yet again, haunts him.
Tonight, he does not celebrate. It is another night of being a failure to his brother. He is not even close to finding the one who forced Alan to drink the blood, but he does not give up.
Edgar hates himself;he hates himself for being a failure, for not giving Alan enough credit, for thinking Alan will give in;and he hates himself for what Alan is. Edgar blames it on himself, he was too wrapped up in what they were doing; hunting together. He should have known, and he should have seen it coming. Edgar didn't stop it, didn't prevent what his brother had become.
Edgar blames it on himself for what had happened.
The next night arrives, and again, he is hunting vampires. It wasn't like it once was. He walks down the empty street, and although his face is free with emotion, he feels numb inside. Edgar pretends Alan is walking across the street from him, and he pictures Alan looking all around. Alan is not with him, but Edgar see's he is. It helps. They are fighting these creatures together again, and they are scouring the streets of San Cazador for the things that will be feasting, hunting, and stalking their victims from the shadows.
Edgar turns the corner of the street, and more silence comes. Faintly he can hear music coming from one of the windows of the white bricked houses, but the rest is the eerie silence he has grown accustomed to on these dark, endless nights. The wind whispers a thousand words to him and he continues his walking. The rustling of the leaves on the ground follow him, bringing him company he craves for.
Sounds start coming when he gets into the skirts of town, and he knows there will be plenty of opportunities for vampires to select their prey. The summer is back, and San Cazador has become another tourist trap. The music is played again, the beers and drinks are passed around, and the scent of sweat, pot, lingering perfume, and faint traces of blood is in the air.
It doesn't take long for Edgar to spot his hunt. It stands against the shop window, watching all the partiers in the streets. It's just all sounds around Edgar. More people flock to the streets, the scents become stronger, and the sounds become louder.
And the creatures, at this time of the year, come to San Cazador. As if they could call themselves toursits.
Edgar see's them as parasites. Going from one place, taking everything, and then moving to another. They continuously move around towns and cities, feasting on the innocent, killing so savagely and brutually, and then after killing hundreds, they move on. They reek, terror, pain and havoc to another safe place. Edgar's lip curls back at the thought of how many people will die tonight; to the hands of the creature that has come to San Cazador.
He stands in the middle of the street, ignoring the dozens upon dozens of people who walk by. His eyes are trained on the one who selects their, soon to be, victims, and the hate and disgust increases on his face. For now, his thoughts and feelings on Alan disappear, and full concentration comes.
It has yet to discover it's being watched, but it will only be a matter of timing until it does. Edgar looks one last time, and then makes his way to the back of the store. It all comes then, those words in his head, and the rage in his heart.
Kill it, you must kill this creature. It is your duty.
The rage comes again, but Edgar tries to push it away. He does not want it controlling him, he knows rage can mess something up. He needs concentration.
It fades, and he follows his task. Within ten minutes it's all over. The creature is nothing but ash, and again, Edgar doesn't feel pleased and satisfied like he once did.
The repulse is clearly seen on his face when he stares at all of the dead animals hung up on sharp silver hooks that drip with a rich colour of blood. The stench in the air makes his stomach turn. Not even seeing Alan cheers him up. It's all death around him no matter where he goes. He's surrounded by it, and although it saddens him to see his brother doing this, he knows he is still fighting. When he sees this, the hope comes again, and the determination of freeing Alan boils over.
The tearing of flesh reaches his ears, and he looks at the animal his brother cuts open. Blood and guts spills onto the oaked table, and he looks away when Alan fills a glass with the blood. It sickens him that Alan is drinking blood, but the sickening feeling goes when he knows it could have been a different type of blood, much worse.
''What do you want, Edgar?''
Alan's voice has no air of welcoming, no pleased tone of seeing his brother, and Edgar can't blame him. Their relationship is strained, bitter, and Edgar knows it will never change until Alan is free. It hurts though, it hurts because sometimes it feels like they are strangers.
Edgar places the comic down onto the table. ''Thought you might want something to read...'' Edgar looks around. ''Something else to do.''
Alan laughs coldly. ''Comics...Still have your passion for them?''
''I have very little of them now'' Edgar says. ''Do you?''
For the first time that night, Alan smiles. It's still not the Alan smile that was once rare to see. It's foreign.
''I'll always have a love for comics, but I don't want it, Edgar. Take it away.''
''Keep it'' Edgar mutters and crosses his arms.
Alan stands. ''Until I'm no longer a monster, I don't want these things. Go, Edgar. Leave me alone.''
''Fine.'' Keeping a blank face, he grabs the comic and makes his way to leave, more determination coming.
''I won't give up on you, Alan.''
''It's getting harder, Edgar. I hope you don't.''