Chapter 37: Change of Heart

Dave felt helpless. He wanted desperately to go to Michael, to do something, but every time he tried to step forward Grey pulled him back.

"Just wait," Grey whispered. He turned away, either because he couldn't watch or he was more concerned about what the noise would bring. Maybe both. Dave wanted to look away, but he couldn't.

There was a terrible grinding sound, loud enough to be heard even in the midst of his screaming, as Michael's lower jaw shifted. His lips split, making his mouth appear to open impossibly wide as row upon row of fangs pressed outward. He clawed at his face, helping nothing as the muscles of his jaw twisted and pulled his mouth closed into a tight pucker, forcing the tiny fangs into tight circular rows surrounding his long, worm-like tongue. His screaming grew muffled, and continued on for several seconds after the changes stopped. The upper half of his face remained more or less human looking, while the lower half had become a nightmare that made even Dave cringe. He was no longer jealous, that was for damn sure.

Finally, Michael collapsed. His lamprey mouth twitched, the fangs retracting slightly as his tongue drew back into his mouth. As impossible as it seemed, it withdrew completely. The fangs relaxed when it was done. He curled into a fetal position on the ground, shivering fiercely as blood tears poured from his eyes. Grey turned back just as it finished.

"Dave?" He spoke quietly, trying to keep it just between them. "That's not normal, is it?"

"I'm pretty sure it's not."

Grey shook his head. The other monsters, for the moment, were forgotten. "Poor bastard."

Dave was impressed. For Grey that was practically an outpouring of sympathy.

Michael got to his feet slowly, his emaciated arms still trembling. He looked from Dave to Grey, who stared back mutely. He tried to speak, only to make a muffled grunt. It made the deformed muscles of his mouth spasm as they attempted to go through the old, familiar motions of speech. Dave wanted to say something, wanted to assure him it wasn't that bad, but it was. Any attempt at comforted would only sound hollow, even coming from him. Michael raised a shaking hand to his mouth.

Even when relaxed, the tiny rows of fangs were exposed. Michael jerked his hand away the instant his fingers made contact. He stared at the tiny droplets of blood welling on them. His mouth twitched again, the rows of fangs tensing and relaxing in another failed attempt to speak.

"Nnnn…" Michael grunted. The simple, muffled noise turned into a high keening, and then a wail as something in him gave way.

Grey jerked Dave backwards, for all the good that would do against a frenzying vampire. Instead of leaping at them, Michael turned and charged down the tunnel. Moments later he disappeared around the corner at its end. A guttural bellow that was definitely not Michael followed.

"We have to help him!" Dave cried. He took off running before Grey could argue. It was a long run to catch up. The horrible noises echoing down the tunnel only made it seem longer.

As he rounded the corner, Dave almost tripped over the fresh corpse lying on the ground. It was another of the monsters. The thing's elongated neck had been broken. Blood dribbled from its mouth as it stared blankly at the mess just a few yards away. Michael had tackled the second creature the ground. It had two many arms attached to its torso, all of which twitched weakly as Michael fed from it. His mouth was fastened tight to the second creature's neck. As he pulled his head back, the flesh surrounding his mouth stretched. It pulsated as he drink, which still wasn't nearly as disturbing as the sucking noises that accompanied each gulp.

"That solves one problem," Grey said. He still had the sledgehammer at the ready.

"Don't you dare hit him," Dave hissed.

"I wasn't planning on it."

Neither of them could watch. Dave kept telling himself it was better this way. At least the creature didn't really count as human anymore. But then what would happen when they made it out? If they made it out. He tried not to think too much about it, but even when he closed his eyes there was that horrible, wet sucking noise. When that stopped, he opened his eyes.

Michael's teeth had made a bloody mess of its neck. Instead of two discreet points, there were many circular puncture marks. The flesh in the center was red and irritated, making it look like the mother of all hickeys. Disturbing as the sight was, Dave almost laughed at the thought. Hysterics, that's what it was.

Finally coming to his senses, Michael pushed the corpse away and staggered to his feet. His long hair fell in his face as he rose, hiding everything but his nose and deformed mouth. He brushed it out of his eyes and stared down at the dead thing lying at his feet, particularly at what he had done to its neck. His eyes widened in shock as the knowledge he was responsible sunk in. Shame was the only thing that drove him to run that time.

"Stop!" Dave cried.

Michael took turns at random, and there was no time to wonder if they were going the right way as Dave and Grey followed. The chase ended when the tunnels dead ended at a locked door. Michael sank to his knees in front of it, fresh tears running down his face. His blood stained teeth tensed and clicked as he sobbed. Dave approached slowly, trying not to upset him, while Grey turned and warily eyed the way they had come from.

"Michael…" Dave said softly. He got no response. Michael didn't even look up. "It's okay. I mean, that happens to everybody sooner or later…"

Michael glared at him. Of course, not everyone ended up with a mouth like his.

"At least it's over now," Dave offered.

Michael grunted, obviously not taking much comfort in that.

"We're going to have to find a place to hole up for the day," Grey said.

"But we've still got time."

"You want to fall asleep in the middle of the tunnels with a bunch of those things running around?"

"Um… Good point." Dave turned back to the door. The knob was smeared with blood from where Michael had tried and failed to open it. Once again he wished he remembered where he put his lock picks, but Michael surprised him by pulling out a set of his own from his back pocket. Even with trembling hands, he picked the lock faster than Dave ever could have managed.

"Odd skill for such a pious man to have," Grey said.

Michael pushed the door open with a bit too much force, nearly tearing it off the hinges. Without a word, as if he could even manage words, he stepped inside.

There was a tiny office beyond the door, as well as a staircase leading to another door that was locked from the inside. Dave unlocked the door and opened it just enough to see what was on the other side. More tunnels, even more poorly lit than the ones they had just left. He sighed and closed the door. When he came back down the stairs, Grey was already pushing the ancient metal desk in front of the door.

"There's nothing to barricade the other one with," Dave said.

"Then I guess we'll just have to hope for the best." Grey said. "Or maybe pray…" He abruptly looked to an empty space just to his left and, looking inexplicably chastised, he lowered his head.

"I'm sorry," Grey said. "I didn't mean that."

Michael ignored the comment at sat down in the corner. Dave picked up the book that had been knocked off when Grey moved the desk and found it was covered in dust. He paged through it until he found the last entry, dated in 1958. It was apparently a maintenance worker's logs, and the shaky pencil writing spoke of a tunnel collapse killing several of the men. Working his way backwards through the entries, Dave found mention of workers disappearing, of men feeling they were being watched while they tried to take readings. The last entry mentioned a very large section of the sewers being sealed. As he closed the book and laid it aside, Dave wondered where that was.

"Well, we've got time to kill, right?" Grey said. Dave was surprised by how nervous he sounded. Maybe it had something to do with the fact the office they were stuck in was too small for the three of them. "What do you wanna do?"

Dave shrugged. "I'm not exactly in the mood for games."

"That's fine, that's fine," Grey said. "We could just talk. Talking's good."

"Are you alright?"

Grey laughed. "You know, I've lost track of how many times you've asked me that."

"It's a valid question," Dave said. "I mean, I don't know what counts as normal for you, but it seems like you've been acting weird lately. Like, first you start talking normal, even if you keep talking to yourself. And now every time it gets quiet you get antsy."

"Antsy?" Grey laughed. "Hardly. I'm just… bored."

"If you say so," Dave said. He sat down on the desk, while Grey took a seat on the bottom step. Dawn couldn't come soon enough. Unfortunately Dave didn't feel the least bit tired and Grey wasn't showing any signs of slowing down either.

Silence returned. Michael sat rocking in his corner, his legs pulled to his chest. Dave watched from his place on top of the desk, feeling helpless to stop whatever breakdown he was experiencing. Grey sat on the stairs, his fingers trailing anxiously through the dirt collected on them.

Dave had never seen him look so nervous, but maybe the weirdness of the past few nights was catching up to him. But then, if anyone should be cracking under pressure, it should be him. He hadn't had years to deal with the every freaky little burden of his existence like Grey had. Then again, he wasn't inherently crazy like Grey was. At least, not yet.

Dave laid his head back against the door. All he could hear though it was the distant hum of machinery.

"Things are changing," Grey said.

Dave looked up. "What do you mean?"

Grey ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. Nothing's the same anymore. I don't see things like I used to… or hear them. I just… I don't know what's happening."

"Is that bad?" Dave asked. He glanced over at Michael, who was watching the conversation like a tennis match. "I mean, if you're not as crazy as you were before, that's gotta be a plus."

"It's not right, Dave," Grey snapped. "Clan weaknesses like this have existed for thousands of years! They're ingrained in the blood! You don't just get better! It would mean… It would mean…"

"What?"

Grey shook his head. "No, nevermind, I don't want to talk about it."

"You're the one that brought it up," Dave pointed out.

"Because I'm afraid, Dave," Grey snapped, his raised voice echoed through the tiny office. "You're too new to understand just how wrong this feels, but I had to tell someone…"

Dave had a weird feeling of déjà vu at those words. Michael, meanwhile, snorted with what might have been laughter.

"Shut the fuck up," Grey hissed. "You don't even have a clue, you goddamn leech!"

Michael bristled at the insult. Dave tensed, afraid he might have to get between them. The moment passed. Michael's shoulders sagged. With one last baleful look at Grey, he buried his face in his arms.

Dave waited until the tension drained out of Grey before speaking. "Maybe it's better if you don't worry about it. I mean, it's not like we can do anything, right? Whatever it means."

"Right…" Grey said.

Dave was relieved when Grey rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes. Sure, there was a lot of stuff he wanted to ask, but he didn't feel right talking about it in front of Michael. It didn't look like the two of them were going to get along well. Dave wasn't even that sure about his own chances with the guy.

Michael's position almost mirrored Grey's, though he hand folded his arms over his knees to hide the lower half of his face. With his mouth hidden, Dave was struck by how freakishly normal Michael looked. If he could just keep it covered he could walk down the street without much fuss. But who wore scarves or anything like that in California? And why the hell had his hair grown out instead of fallen out? Dave realized he and Michael were staring at each other. He had no idea what could be going through the other man's mind. Maybe he was similarly jealous that Dave could at least talk, or maybe he was contemplating killing him. Who knew?

"Um…" Dave struggled to find an acceptable conversation topic. "It's really not that bad, once you get used to it… This whole, um, existence, I mean."

Dave could only assume the grunt Michael made was an expression of skepticism. He couldn't blame him.

"I'm sorry things ended up like this," Dave said. "Even after what happened. Hell, if our positions were reversed I probably would have tried to kill me, too. I mean, geez, look at me."

He tried to laugh, but it quickly turned into a sigh. "Nah, honestly, I'd probably run. I never was much for the whole honorable, stand and fight thing. Like, I took classes, cause when I was a kid I had these delusions of being like Bruce Lee but… Yeah, that never really worked out."

Michael's expression, at least as much as Dave could see in his eyes, was impassive..

"I'm probably even better off this way, cause it wasn't like my life was going anywhere… I turn thirty in a few weeks. Fuck, I didn't even think about that." He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't stop. "Who knows? Maybe I could have turned things around. I could've found the right woman, started a family…"

Michael's expression darkened.

"Oh… Oh geez, you didn't have a family, did you? Like, a wife and kids?"

Michael nodded slowly, his eyes were welling with tears again.

"Fuck- I mean that's great! I mean… Oh god, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought this up. I just… I'll shut up now."

Michael shook his head and wiped his eyes. He paused when he saw the blood streaked on his hands. His tongue darted out, snake like, and licked it away. Dave couldn't stop himself from recoiling. Michael saw. His brow furrowed, but all the lower half of his face could manage was a spasm that made his teeth click together.

"No, no, it's cool," Dave said quickly.

He wished the sun would rise. Better yet, he wished the ground would open up and swallow him. Why did Grey have to fall asleep so damn early? Awkward conversation with him was a hell of a lot better than awkward, one sided conversation with Michael. Dave laid his head back again and stared at the crack in the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," Dave said. "I'm not good with words."

Michael grunted something that sounded vaguely reassuring in tone. Dave couldn't be sure. He was probably reading too much into it.

"Anyway, I'm sure your family's okay… without you… uh… I mean…" A sudden feeling of lethargy swept over him. "Oh thank god."

He'd never been so happy for sunrise.

****

When he woke up, Michael was sitting beside him on the desk. Dave shrieked and nearly fell off as he jerked away from him. The exasperated sigh Michael uttered whistled through his teeth. It took Dave a moment to calm down, and to see that Michael's position wasn't the least bit threatening. He was sitting with both hands resting on the knees. Still, Dave couldn't stop himself from looking across the room. Grey was in the same uncomfortable looking position he'd assumed the night before, and he was apparently unharmed.

"How long have you been up?" Dave asked.

Michael shrugged and looked down at the watch that was still hanging loosely on his wrist. He pointed to where the minute hand was currently resting, and then to where it would have been fifteen minutes ago.

"Oh, hell," Dave said softly. He looked desperately back to Grey, who was still essentially dead.

Michael remained perfectly still.

"So… You could have done a lot in all that time, right?"

Michael nodded.

"But you didn't."

Michael shook his head.

"Why?"

Michael shrugged.

"Thanks, I guess... So does that mean you're sticking with us? And that you're not going to, y'know, try and kill us again?"

Michael gave him a withering look.

"Is that a yes? I mean, on the not killing us part. Well, both parts."

Michael grumbled and nodded.

"Okay, cool."

He still wished Grey would wake up already.