Ran - And down the rabbit hole we go.

Kage - this has turned into a very, very dark story...we keep getting darker too...


Paul rubbed his head as he stood up and righted the trash cans, "didn't have to fucking push me so hard, Dwayne…" he grumbled, dusting himself off.

David smacked him upside the head, "Stupid idiot." He growled, "Told you to keep quiet." Paul recoiled, scowling between David and Dwayne.

"Wasn't my fault…" he mumbled, stomping off towards his bike to join Marko. All he'd done was try to get a little closer to the kitchen window. Wasn't like he was making faces or anything...didn't even get the chance to.

The bleach blonde rolled his eyes, "It's never his fault." He grumbled, heading for his bike. What he had seen in Michael's dream was perfect. It was apparent that he belonged with them from his dreams alone. Even if his human mind couldn't accept it, Michael was pack and would always be pack. He rolled his bike away before starting it. If Michael was planning on leaving, they would have to grab him tomorrow, "Let's get going, boys; I need a few supplies before tomorrow night."


There was one thing he'd always like about Santa Carla, bad memories notwithstanding. The beach was great. And having the chance to get a good finish on his tan without having to worry about picking up trash? That wasn't too bad, either. Michael chilled out on a blue-green beach towel as he watched Star gathering shells with Laddie by the shore. She was looking after him for the weekend while his parents were out. Ever since she'd been the rescuing angel to bring him back home, they were inseparable. A part of Michael wondered if maybe that was why she was so reluctant to leave as quickly as he'd like. She'd make a good mom, some day, he mused.

Nearby, the Frog brothers argued and looked like they were just about ready to get into a fist fight over a tube of zinc oxide before Sam quickly slipped away from the group and headed towards Michael with an exasperated shake of his head.

"Why do you still hang out with those idiots?" Michael asked, yawning and pushing his sunglasses up on his nose as he laid back down on his towel to relax. He couldn't imagine giving this up for anything. Sun and sand. Family. Star. It almost made the bad dreams melt away from his mind. Almost.

"Because they're not always idiots and they did kind of help save your ass." He pointed out, sitting beside him on his own towel, "They're good guys, a little weird, but good."

Michael lifted his head, lowering his sunglasses, "They helped. I'm not saying they didn't. But...a little weird? Sam, these are the same guys who tried to convince you they'd bought alien piss from a con artist last weekend at the sax concert."

"Okay, so a lot weird, but they're nice enough and, and they're my friends."

"Star and Laddie don't like them much. They tried to stake them...I swear, sometimes I think your friends just got lucky." Michael observed, pushing his sunglasses back up and propping himself back on his elbows so he could watch the pair gather shells as the tide chased their heels.

"Maybe they did." Sam picked up a ball of sand and tossed it at him, "But still, luck or not, maybe I can help them be a little less crazy." Meanwhile, the Frog brothers had resorted to slapping each other back and forth. Soon, it would probably turn to closed-fist fighting if Sam didn't do something.

"And that's your cue," Michael snorted.

Sam sighed and got between them, pushing them apart, "Enough! Stop being stupid." Edgar opened his mouth to talk, "And no, I don't care who started it. No more fighting."

While the Frog brothers somehow miraculously pulled Sam into a scuffle, despite his attempts for diplomacy, Star and Laddie walked through the sand together, hand-in-hand as Laddie carried a bucket bouncing at his side and grinned, pausing every once in awhile to poke one of his toes into the ground and watch ocean spray come up to fill the holes left behind. There was little of the sad little boy Michael had met a year ago. Maybe it didn't affect him as bad because he'd been too young to understand what he was going through...or maybe he was just good at hiding it.

"Having fun?" Michael asked with a slow smile, leaning forward as Laddie flopped down in the sand and dug through their prizes with a gleeful grin.

Star smiled, "Yeah, it's a good day. I'm really glad you thought of this."

"Let's do it again tomorrow!" Laddie chirped, holding up a sand dollar as big as his fist.

Star laughed and took it from him, "Good find!" She looked at Michael, "You wanted to talk about something? Didn't you?"

Michael watched her thoughtfully, admiring the halo of light that bounced around her wild curls, and for a moment he wondered if maybe he should hold off on this...maybe they should just wait, like they'd planned. But he immediately dismissed the idea. He just couldn't handle the bad dreams anymore. "I'm not going to try to get you to go tomorrow, if you don't want to, but I think I'm going to go ahead and leave in the morning. Get set up, try to do some job hunting…I'll...I'll wait for you." He pulled his sunglasses off and met her eyes, smiling weakly. He really hoped she'd understand. He needed to do this.

She closed her eyes for a moment before nodding, "Alright, I'll meet you there but you'd better call me when you get there." She playfully punched his shoulder, "Deal?"

He leaned forward to pull her into his arms, "deal," he agreed, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Star."

"Now, let's get snow cones."

"Alright!" Alan crowed, dropping down beside them as he nursed his wounded eye, "freaking love snow cones!"

Michael looked at him, "when did...how the hell did you even hear…?" He shook his head. Right. Sam's friends...still fucking weird.


David had his supplies, was ready to go, soft rope, blindfold, gag, he thought about adding a set of handcuffs, but decided against it; too much chaffing. It wasn't like he wanted to hurt Michael, after all, just wear him down. He had an idea for dinner too, kind of a nice little homage to their first meal together. Surely, Michael still liked Chinese food. Now it was only a matter of collecting him. If he were human, this would be insane. As a vampire? All par for the course. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it. Besides, their last encounter turned David into a gruesome biology project. There was nothing wrong with being prepared for a second round, if things got nasty.

It was just getting dark when he headed for the Emerson house. Even if Michael was still up, things would go his way; he had taken every precaution, and was prepared for whatever was thrown at him, whereas Michael wouldn't be expecting this at all. And even if he did...well...that would make it even better.

This was...unbelievably perfect. On so many levels. Michael was outside, tying rope down to the top of a car, securing a few boxes. So that meant he was going to probably try to leave fairly soon. It was a good thing he;d decided to pull this stunt, then. Or he'd have to make a little trip, and the idea wasn't very appealing. David was not looking forward to chasing Michael across state lines.

Careful not to make a sound, he sauntered over to his intended victim, unable to help the smile that spread across his face. The moment Michael bent to pick up another box, he was upon him, wrapping an arm tightly across his chest to pin him there before clapping a glove covered hand over his mouth.

"Hello, Michael." He hissed softly in his ear, holding him firmly against him, "Long time no see." Unsurprisingly, the brunette gave a muffled shout into his glove, immediately struggling to try and shake him off. But the strength of a human was much less than that of a halfie, and even weaker than a full vampire,

"I know what you're thinking, how is this possible? Well, I'll tell you everything, but not here and not now. Can you be a good boy and be quiet or do I have to gag you?" He asked, giving the human a firm shake to show his dominance. Not very effective for a man with no killer instincts left in him. Michael immediately lifted a foot and stomped as hard as he could, grinding his heel into David's toes and shouting against his hand again. David snarled, tightening his grip, pinching his nose at the same time to cut off his air, "Son of a bitch." His voice came out in a low hiss against his ear, "Fine, be that way." He growled, would just have to knock him out, because it didn't look like Michael was going to cooperate.

The moment the brunette fell limp against him, he tossed him into the backseat of the car, pulling out a length of rope as he did. He'd have to tie him up before he came to. He secured him tightly, his arms pulled behind him, the coil of rope looping around his legs as well. The vampire wasn't sure what he was going to do with the car. He'd have to snag the rest of Michael's stuff, too; it looked like he was almost done before David interrupted him. He patted his cheek and proceeded to finish up packing. Now there was only one thing left to do: take Michael home, back where he belonged.

David eyed him thoughtfully, clicking his tongue against his fangs. For all the trouble he'd directly and indirectly caused, this was probably the most fun he'd had in awhile. Besides, if it weren't for Michael's twerp of a brother and those idiots from that comic shop, it would have taken David decades to get rid of Max. Granted, he'd preferred to have avoided a horn staking in the process…But, you win some, you lose some.


David slung the unconscious brunette over his shoulder as he walked into the hotel. This felt like victory in it's purest form; everything was going his way, and it could only get better from here on out. He patted the human on the leg as he moved past the fountain. He'd have to take him deeper in so there would be less chance of escape or recovery. Besides, this was his project and he didn't want the boys to fuck it up. And at this point, leaving Michael anywhere remotely close to an exit would only mean having to chase him down later. He'd prefer to keep this as simple as possible.

Just beyond the new sleeping quarters they'd picked, there was a large chasm in which the hotel had been split, too vast for a human to jump across. For David? Child's play. And past that, a myriad of almost passable rooms. Most of them too dangerous to lodge Michael, however, if something were to happen. He didn't want to take even the tiniest risk of a cave-in wherever he decided to leave the brunette. But he finally found just the perfect spot. A small room near the very back of the hotel, supporting beams and collapsed walls lodged in against each other so firmly, that it would take another earthquake to move them.

Ironically...a suite. How perfect. He placed Michael against the old bedframe, tying one end of the rope to the far leg before he withdrew to leave the brunette to his own devices. If he really tried, the human could get himself loose from the ropes but he'd be hard-pressed to escape, thanks to the chasm he'd have to cross over. Maybe after a couple of hours with the boys, just before sunrise, he'd drop by to see how Michael was doing. See how he liked his new lodgings…


Michael awoke with a start. When didn't he, these days? But...he hadn't expected to wake up with his arms and legs bound. Nor had he expected to wake up anywhere but his own bed. A part of him hoped this was some sort of nightmare, and he'd just forgotten going to bed after he packed up the last of his belongings on mom's car.

"The hell…?" He grunted, shifting on what seemed to be the lumpiest and oldest mattress he'd ever encountered. "...where am I?" He asked himself, looking about. And he desperately continued to hope this was still part of an elaborate dream. The last thing he remembered was David holding onto him, but David...he was dead, however, this felt all too real to be a typical nightmare.

Scanning his surroundings, he struggled to sit up, squinting into the darkness. He couldn't see much...just vague details of the bed-frame, and lumpy shapes in the walls, if he stared long enough.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention toward what was once a door and the devil himself stepped inside, "I hope your accommodations have been to your liking. Is the room satisfactory, sir?" How David could say that with a straight face he had no idea and it was David who stepped inside, alive...undead, and well.

Michael frowned, focusing on him, willing him to disappear into the shadows of a dream-world, to fade in the face of another nightmare that would quickly overtake him. But he remained. Real. Solid. There. "...What do you want?" Michael demanded, focusing on keeping his voice steady. He'd faced this bastard before, and whether this was a nightmare or not...he had to force himself to think about the fact that he had won their fight, not David. And that wasn't going to change.

David sighed dramatically, "I was hoping I could bring you something to eat, maybe some water, or something to make your stay more comfortable?" He grinned wickedly before speaking again, "We have a wide range of Chinese food for your enjoyment."

"Fuck. You. Let me go." Michael demanded, leaning back and continuing to glare at him. He wasn't going to show fear. He wasn't going to let this bastard win whatever sick game he was playing at. And god, how he wished he could continue to tell himself this was just a dream. Or that he'd just finally snapped and gone nuts. Maybe he was sitting in his bedroom right now, drooling and babbling to himself...and maybe Star was telling mom they should have moved a little sooner after all. Somehow, the thought was comforting, in a distant and demented sort of way.

The look of disappointment on Michael's face was enough to make him feel guilty, almost. He sighed again, "Alright, here's how it's going to work, since you don't want to play along I'll just be blunt. You're my guest here. Well, guest is too nice of a word, but let's move on. I'll be taking care of all your needs, you want something? It comes through me, need to take a piss? Let me know and we'll work something out. Hungry? Yeah, that comes from me too. You're not leaving, between here and the exit is a nice yawning chasm. You can't jump it. So, let's start over. Hungry? Want a pillow?"

"Go to hell."

He shrugged, "Your loss. I'll be back in a couple hours, think about what I've said." He turned to leave, "Oh, and Michael, I'm the only company you're getting." With that he left without another word. And Michael stared after him, incredulous. Why was he still alive? What the fuck was David playing at?

He hadn't lied when he said it would be a few hours before he would be back and for a moment, Michael wondered if David had just forgotten he was there and he was going to rot here in this old hotel. Which was probably a tomb...how many people died here in that quake? Better not to think about that. Still, for a delirious moment, maybe due to his lack of sleep over the course of the last several days, Michael wondered if perhaps David and the rest of the Lost Boys had been here the day the earthquake happened...and the earth, in it's infinite wisdom, had been attempting to eradicate them from the face of the planet. An act of god gone horribly awry that had only cemented this place as their home and heaven. A place he didn't want to stay in, let alone see ever again. There was something about the bleak darkness of this room that made the thought seem a little less insane than it was.

"It's been two and a half hours." David stated, walking into the room, "Can I get you anything?"

Michael squinted in the darkness, only illuminated when David suddenly struck a match against his boot-heel to light up a cigarette. And those...golden eyes illuminated his face so grotesquely, the brunette couldn't forget what kind of monster he was dealing with even if he wanted to. "What do you want from me?" Michael demanded. "If you're going to kill me, just do it. I don't give a shit about the stupid games you want to play out."

"Not gonna kill you, Michael. Was never gonna kill you." He took a slow drag, the embers glowing orange in the shadows, "I could bring you a light, maybe? Unless you like the dark, wouldn't surprise me really."

"How...how are you even here?" Michael demanded, licking his bottom lip nervously. He had to know. If he didn't, then it would only cement the conviction that he really was crazy...and none of this was actually happening.

"Funny, that; there were these two girls, called themselves Raven and Shadow. Stupid-ass names, if you ask me. They found out from your little bro and those idiot friends of his where we were buried. Decided, 'hey, let's revive them, we're all dark and shit, it's destiny.'" He rolled his eyes, taking another drag, "Well, yours truly got a two course dinner, and they got a nice trip over the cliffs."

"You're a monster," Michael whispered, though it was already an established fact long beforehand. There was very little good will he had to offer the vampire in front of him. He couldn't honestly ever see himself feeling anything but contempt and fear, the latter something Michael would do his best to swallow and hold back.

"I'm wounded that you would call me a monster." He mocked, putting a hand over his heart. The effect only served to agitate Michael even further. "Predator yes, monster, not so much."

"Why are you keeping me here? What the fuck are you trying to prove?" The brunette demanded, squirming on the bed and trying to test the bonds around his hands. There was very little, if any give to them...David must have been a god damned boy scout before he started chomping throats. Maybe there was a badge for that.

"I'm gonna finish what I started a year ago." He stated simply, as if that should explain everything. It wasn't hard to remember why he'd socked David in the face the first night they'd met each other. He'd do it again right now, if he had a free hand, "Not enough detail for you? You're one of us Michael, always have been, always will be and this time you're gonna see it too."


Sam had not slept well last night. He'd had another nightmare about his brother. So what better way to deal with bad dreams than to go to the comic shop for some comic relief and maybe something to read too. He yawned as he walked in, stretching slowly.

"Hey, what's up?" He blinked, scowling slightly at not seeing the Frogs instantly there to greet him, "Umm, guys?"

Alan slipped slowly into the front of the shop, ducking behind a shelf and peering at Sam through several rows of comics, wielding a baseball bat with the words 'security system' scrawled on them in marker. He looked like he was scared out of his mind…"state your purpose here…" Alan demanded, smacking his lips and yawning.

Edgar was crawling around the side of the counter, looking about nervously as if he expected someone to leap out and attack him at any second.

"Guys, it's me; what the hell's with the bat?" He held his hands up in surrender, "We just hung out yesterday."

Alan squinted even harder at him, poking a hand through the shelf and waving it about, "you're...you're still there…" he sighed, dropping the bat. "Thought you'd turn into a walking worm monster by now…"

"Worms...so many...so many..." Edgar grunted, crawling back behind the counter and staying there.

He scowled, "Were you getting into your dad's stash again? I told you guys to stay out of it, it fucks you up." And as if on cue, their dad jerked off his sunglasses from his comfortable sleeping spot against the wall, then laughed a little before putting them back on and nestling beside their mother.

"You…" Alan rubbed at his temples, "where's your brother? Wasn't he supposed to bring you here today?"

"He left last night for Arizona, said he couldn't stay here any more." He sounded a little upset and he was, he didn't want his brother to leave.

"Staying here...yeah...not good. Staying here's pretty bad. Don't wanna stay here…" Edgar chattered to himself from behind the counter. He didn't look like he was going to be acting normal anytime soon. Well...normal by Ed's standards, anyway.

"We didn't get much sleep last night...and we didn't touch dad's stash," Alan glanced towards his brother and then back at Sam. "Sorry your bro left. Better than being a bloodsucker, though."

Sam visibly shuddered, "Yeah, much better." He felt cold just thinking about it and wrapped his arms around himself, man, he wished Mike were still here. At least next to his freaky friends, Michael was practically normal. Maybe he'd call him tomorrow after school and see how things were going at dad's place. The dreams had to be pretty awful if Mike was honestly willing to stay with that asshole. And Sam was being fairly generous. His mom was probably the nicest person on the planet and even she had finally said, enough, "Guys, anymore nightmares or freaky shit happens, we gotta get together and tell each other, okay? Maybe we can figure this out…" Before we go insane went unspoken. It was kinda weird all of them started having this crap happen to them at once. Maybe they were still just freaked out by that creepy girl from class…


Michael took a deep breath, pressing the back of his head against the headboard once more to get a bit of leverage while he tried to yank at the end of the rope bound to the framework of one of the bottom legs. He'd been at it for awhile, and it was hard to tell how much progress he'd honestly made in trying to splinter the wood, when he could barely fucking see. Maybe he should have taken David up on that offer for a light, after all….

His upper lip curled in disgust at the thought. He had no plans of asking the bastard for anything...because that meant playing by his rules. Michael had no intention of doing so. He had no idea how long he'd been at this. Sometimes he'd had to stop and take a short rest, because he'd been forced to stay up all night to keep the son of a bitch company. That, and the fact that Michael just knew something awful would happen if he wasn't on guard. He wasn't sure exactly what, though...David could pretty much do anything to him, at this point. But he wasn't...and that was even more disturbing than the fact that he could.

"Come on…" Michael pleaded with the wood and the rope, deliriously begging one of them to give away. He needed this to work. He needed to get back home, to make sure mom and Sam could be kept safe, to tell grandpa that the fuckers were back. Okay, so the old man never talked shop about bloodsuckers...but he knew a few things. Hell, that's why he'd totaled the side of the house to save them, wasn't it?

"Come on!" Michael hissed this time between clenched teeth, and wonder of wonders, he finally heard something...a gentle creaking. He held his breath and pulled again, this time putting the full force of his strength into it. And the creaking turned into a snapping sound, finally...causing the bed to jerk as the leg at the bottom had finally splintered. Thank god this bed was probably twice as old as grandpa…

He could hardly believe his luck, as he scooted towards the edge of the bed and hopped down to the ground. His feet were bound fairly securely, but there was enough space between his ankles to shuffle. It was a little ridiculous, but waddling like a penguin out of this god-forsaken hellhole was better than being stuck there. But despite his valiant efforts, he couldn't overcome the one major hurdle he hadn't considered. The darkness...empty and black. If he couldn't see his own nose in front of his face, there was no way he'd find an exit.

Taking a deep breath, Michael shuffled around the room, moving his bound arms out in front of him as far as he could manage. Given that a length of the rope kept them only a few feet away from the bottom portion, it wasn't very far. He'd practically have to crawl if he wanted to stretch it out more. Fuck this, Michael was going to find a sharp rock or something and shred this god damned rope. Hopefully…

He was wasting precious time, and he knew it. Crawling about on the ground like a mole as he felt about for something, anything...finding very little besides dirt or rotted scraps of wooden floor...and he ended up cutting his fingers on one particularly jagged junk still embedded in the ground and jutting out from some sort of wall...Michael took a breath, sticking his finger in his mouth and grumbling, trying to pry the splinter out with his teeth. He only ended up worrying the cut a little further, spilling drops of blood on the ground. He reached forward again into the darkness, this time a little more carefully, and pressed the rope about his wrists to the wood, sawing as best he could. It was tedious...and he had no idea how long it took before he finally managed to shred a small portion of the binding. He slipped several times, stabbing his own wrists and hands, opening more cuts over skin rubbed red and raw from struggling.

But finally, god, finally the rope came apart, and he was able to shake his hands free, rubbing at his tender skin before fumbled with the rest of what had bound his ankles together. Stumbling to his feet, Michael reached out ahead of him and tried to trust in what little instinct he had, and hope, that somehow he'd find a way out.

He fell several times, stumbled into strange shapes, furniture, rubble, jutting metallic monsters of scraps and jumbled picture frames...and just when it seemed like his path was clear enough, Michael felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when his next step found nothing but empty space...he yelped, throwing himself back just in time to fall on his rear. Reaching out slowly, Michael climbed to his knees and patted the ground about him...he was sitting on the very edge of a pit, or a canyon...something. He didn't know how deep it went, and he didn't want to know...but one thing was definitely clear.

Even with his hands and legs free...he was trapped. Like a fucking caged dog.


The smell of blood is what woke David first. Familiar blood. Michael's blood. Hopefully he hadn't gotten himself too badly hurt, that was David's job after all. He'd let him wander around in the back for awhile, it wasn't like he could get anywhere, and he was probably hungry. There was still some Chinese food left over from the previous night, sure it was a little cold by now but if he was hungry enough he'd eat it. The bleach blonde snagged two of the little cartons by the small metal handles, swinging them slightly as he also picked up a flashlight. It wasn't like he needed it but Michael did. See, he could be nice.

A soft whistle escaped his lips as he strolled toward the back of the hotel. The other boys were still asleep so he didn't have to worry about them and besides, he was excited to see what kind of condition Michael was in. This was going to be the best project he'd ever worked on, he could just feel it, and he had had a hand in some interesting projects in the past. There was no way this wouldn't top his list for years, maybe even centuries to come.

He flicked the light on as he got closer to the chasm, swinging the bright beam of light around, "Oh, Michael." He grinned, easily hopping over the chasm, "Come out, come out wherever you are." He chuckled softly, "Got a present for you if you can be a good boy." He gave the cartons a little swing again as he poked his head into the room he had designated for the young man, "Not here?"

Leather clad shoulders shrugged before he turned and headed through the tunnels. Well, at one point they were hallways but time and the earthquake had really done a number on them. Torn wallpaper and decaying wood seemed to crumble around him as it was taken over by rock. Funny how time wears away all things but he would always remain the same. He let out a snort, now he was waxing poetic like Dwayne, the other vampire had to be rubbing off on him.

"Michael!" The next room he looked in was in bad shape. Most of it was covered in fallen rocks as the wall caved in. No way would Michael be in there. Maybe he was looking for a bathroom? There were probably a couple down here that were in good condition, they wouldn't work but when you gotta go, you gotta go. A soft sigh escaped his lips, that little shit was in for it now, or would be if this wasn't actually the most fun he'd had since the last time he'd played with Michael, "I've got food for you!" With a grumble he turned and headed back the way he'd come. He'd probably missed him, let his mind wander too much to notice. When he got back to the chasm, he saw him. The brunette was slumped against the wall, his sweater torn, "Hey." He crouched down in front of him, putting the flashlight down and holding out the food, "Hungry?"

Michael flinched at the sudden invasion of light, holding up a hand in front of his face and squinting with a frown at David. It took a moment for him to say anything, as he adjusted. Then he quietly eyed the carton in David's hand. A world of conflict flashing over his face in that instant before he reluctantly reached out to take it. He didn't say a word.

David chuckled softly, "Light, food, what more could you want?" He grinned, "So, what's on your mind tonight?" He settled back against the wall, glancing over at his companion.

Michael glared at the carton in his hand, flipping it open and eyeing the rice inside, "fork."

David patted down his pockets before pulling out a plastic spork, "Spork. Better than a fork." He didn't have much of a chance to say anything else before Michael jerked the spork from his hand and jammed it into the carton, angrily shoveling mouthfuls of rice while he tried to glare at David through the dim light.

"Remember what it was like to eat maggots?" He sighed wistfully, "That was a good night."

Michael paused, lowering the carton and breathing through his nostrils, struggling to swallow a large clump of cold, dry rice. He was clearly thirsty, but probably not going to ask for anything to drink. "For you, maybe. I thought I was drunk."

"Was a good feeling though, man, couldn't keep that bottle out of your hands." He paused, "Anything you want tonight?"

"I want to leave." Michael lifted the carton again and took another mouthful of rice, nostrils flaring while he tried to finish the food as quickly as possible.

"Sorry, not happening, try again." He looked up at the ceiling, lighting a cigarette and taking a slow drag, "Maybe go for something simpler."

"I want to kill you. That simple enough, David?" Michael retorted, dropping the empty carton carelessly beside him. It was inches away from the chasm. The brunette glanced over and visibly paled.

He rolled his eyes, "You're battin' a thousand, try again because yeah, not simple enough." He offered him the cigarette, "It's a long way down, trust me. Paul thought it would be a good idea to fly down there when he was high, we didn't see him again for two hours."

Michael looked at the cigarette, eyes flicking back up to David's face. He sighed, reaching out to take it. Not the worst thing he could be doing tonight, anyway. And it gave him something to do. He took a pull from the cigarette, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. "So I get it. I do. You're mad because I killed you, right? And you're ticked off Star liked me more than you, and didn't want to be a fucking monster. Well, guess what, David? Driving me nuts down here isn't going to give you what you want. She's not coming back...and I'm not sticking around, if I can help it. So what do you think of that, huh?" Michael passed the cigarette back to him, and somehow even with that gesture he managed to communicate another level of bitterness.

"Well, how about the fact that I don't give a rats ass about Star?" He took a long pull, letting it out in a slow stream of white smoke, "As far as you sticking around? Let me just break this down for you. You're. Not. Going. Anywhere." He paused, "And I'm not pissed you killed me, because you offed Max too."

"Wanna bet?" Michael challenged him, just about ready to fight him if he had to. As a jock, he did tend to resort to fists when words failed. Right now, he looked like he was on the verge of proving that through example.

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you serious? You know that's not going to end well, right?"

"And what are my other options? Sitting around and playing tea party with you until I go nuts? Fuck you, David."

David hopped to his feet, patting him on the head, "It's your choice if you want to go nuts or not."

Michael apparently decided that wasn't good enough...and David was in the perfect position right now for him to pull one move that would cripple any man. Or vampire. He clenched his fist and punched the bleach blonde in the crotch as hard as he could, before pushing himself to his feet and stumbling through the dark, forgetting the flashlight in favor of his only option. He wasn't going to stick around, even if it meant leaving in the one way he hated to consider. Taking a deep breath, Michael dove into the chasm. He didn't even scream.

David howled in pain before realizing that Michael had just tried to take the coward's way out. He scrambled to his feet, forcing the thought of his aching balls out of his mind, and diving in after him. After this, Michael wouldn't be able to try a stunt like that again. He snarled, lashing out and grabbing the brunette by the back of his shirt. The material threatened to tear further but held firm as David pulled a struggling Michael into his arms. The vampire bit his own wrist in one smooth movement before forcing it to his mouth.

"You can't fly yet, Michael." He hissed in his ear, keeping his flesh firmly in place, making sure he would have no choice but to swallow. Besides, after that first taste hit your tongue, there was no stopping. The brunette gave a muffled shout of protest, involuntarily gasping. And that was when the blood spilled past his lips, "Drink up." David's voice was a low growl in his ear as he formed his body to the newly made halfling's back.


He didn't want to do this. Didn't want to have to kill himself. But Michael wasn't going to be a pet. Or a victim. If he was going to die, it would be by his own terms. And living at that bastard's mercy wasn't something Michael planned on doing for the rest of his life. Wind brushed at his hair, and he was almost elated at the thought that in a somewhat morbid way, he'd actually won...but then he felt himself jerked up in the abyss of the chasm by something gripping at his shirt.

God damn it…

Michael flung out his fists and kicked in the air, trying to wrestle David's arms from around him, but he just didn't have the strength. Between the pit falling out of his stomach after the jump, and a day and a half of manic sleep deprivation...he was as weak as a kitten. The ache of the splinters still embedded in his palms, coupled with his lack of footing didn't help mattrs either.

Then he felt cold, bleeding skin against his lips, while the monster held him even closer, pressing up against him. If he wasn't terrified out of his wits, he'd think David was coming on to him.

He tried to keep his mouth shut. He really did. But he couldn't get any air in through his nose, and he could only hold his breath for so long, "You can't fly yet, Michael." That voice hissed in his ear, the wrist seeming to press harder against his lips. Star's name died on his mouth, when he was finally forced to try to breathe. And then he tasted it...despite himself, he tasted it. Not only tasted, but savored. Not only savored, but indulged in. Even as he tried to fight the urge to swallow, he became an observer in his own body. Like the nightmares...but this wasn't a nightmare. This was real. And he couldn't get away from it.

It was ecstasy made in liquid form, indefinable, dark, and so much better than when he'd practically drained a whole bottle of the stuff what seemed like a decade ago. Nothing could compare. Nothing ever would…


David grinned, scooping Michael up into his free arm like an infant, carrying him back to his room, continuing to let him nurse on his wrist as he went. The more blood he got in him the better. He wouldn't even be thinking of suicide after this, would probably only be worried about where he was going to get his next fix. The bleach blonde slowly knelt to the mattress as got him settled in bed and slowly removed his wrist.

"Like that?" He grinned down at him, watching as the wound closed. The halfling chased a trail of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, seeming to slowly...very slowly...realize what he'd done, as the truth hit home behind glazed eyes.

"...Why?" Michael demanded, or seemed to try. It ended up coming out as more of a plea than a demand. Cute.

David chuckled, finding the whole thing adorable, "Because you're pack, because you're mine, because you belong with us. You've been dreaming about it, your body wants it, craves it; it's smarter than you are." He grinned down at him, holding his wrist out to see if he wanted the last traces of blood trickling over his skin, "You're one of us, Michael."

Michael swallowed, closing his eyes and letting his head loll back as he raised a shaking hand to try and shove David's wrist away. "Not. Never."

He shrugged, slowly pulling his wrist back, he'd lick it off himself if Michael didn't want it, "Keep telling yourself that." He paused, "Tell you what...tomorrow night, if you can beat me at cards, I'll let you go."

Straightening up, the brunette tried to focus his gaze on David. He was a little too out of it for his glare to carry much weight, "if I lose?"

"If you lose, you stop trying to escape. You can fight, you can struggle, but you're stuck here." He really wanted to add a couple more stipulations but he didn't want to go too overboard or the brunette would know it was rigged from the start.

Yawning, Michael lowered his head to one of the moth-eaten pillows, not even bothering to try and fight off exhaustion any longer, as the blood worked through his system and feverishly reclaimed parts of Michael's body that had already been acquainted with the change before, "sure…" he mumbled. "Gonna…" he yawned again, "kill you." And then he was drifting away into his first dreamless sleep in months.

David chuckled softly, "Sure you are." He patted him on the head before turning and leaving, Michael's tune would change soon enough and David would be there to see it happen. His little protests proved one thing that David had told him quite a while ago. He was a killer...he just had to focus that instinct in the right direction.