I don't own Being Human or Poldark. I wasn't sure where I was going with this, I just started writing and ended up with this.
1802
"So you're awake. Good, I was becoming tempted to leave you here." the man said as I opened my eyes, my hands reaching to my neck to feel dried blood on it.
"What...Who..." I whispered, my throat so dry it hurt to talk.
"You're not a halfwit are you? I thought with the way you killed my men over there you were worth keeping, I hope I hadn't made a mistake."
"I could have told you that." a much younger voice said, and I turned my head to see a young girl who looked to be no older than twelve looking down at me.
"There's no need to be rude Hetty, though I suppose I should listen to my own advice. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my name is Lord Henry Yorke." the man said with a grin that terrified me, and with one hand he dragged me up to my feet with strength he should not have possessed. I stumbled a little but he held my steady until he was certain I would not fall, before letting go of my arm and allowing me to look around.
It was a massacre, and I wanted to heave as I looked at all the dead bodies surrounding me while noticing the blood on the clothes worn by myself, this Henry York and the girl Hetty. I took a step back from them though I refused to look away, too terrified to make any sudden moves as my mind slowly began to clear much to my horror. I recalled how I prepared myself to return to England, to Demelza, after spying in France for the crown only to be diverted by a scream down an alleyway. I followed and saw these two...
"What are you...You monsters, you were drinking their blood. You and others..." I trailed off before suddenly hitting the side of a building, Yorke and Hetty approaching me menacingly.
"Yes, well you killed Simon and Hugh which is why I thought it would be best to keep you around. After all someone at your age, able to kill two vampires so easily without flinching, must be of some use." Yorke explained calmly.
"Vampires, what do you mean vampires?" I asked, baffled by the unfamiliar word.
"You'll find out stupid, now just tell us your name." the girl told him, earning a look of annoyance from Yorke which silenced her but he then looked at me expectantly.
"I'm...Poldark. Ross Poldark." I explained, my sense of reason lost as more memories came to me and I pointed at Yorke. "You attacked me. Your eyes and your teeth, they changed. And you..."
"Ah, here comes Fergus now. Just in time." Yorke said as he looked down a narrow alleyway which a man emerged from, clutching a young lady tightly in his arms despite her attempts to break free. My mind told me to try and save her, but my legs refused to move much to my shame.
"This should help you understand your current situation Ross." Yorke explained as he suddenly pulled out a knife from his pocket, and approached the woman with Fergus holding her steady.
All he did was cut her cheek slightly, drawing only the smallest amount of blood. And when Fergus let her fall to the ground, crying and begging for mercy, I gave her none as I took her life. And when it was over, during those first few moments as the fresh blood gave me a sense of relief and joy I had never felt before, I forgot all about Demelza and the loved ones waiting for me back in Cornwall. For I knew in that moment that I would never see them again, and in that moment I couldn't bring myself to care.
1874
I had known Henry Yorke for decades and had come to know him well, from his desires and preferences to what infuriated him and made me fear for my life. So I was thrown when I met Harry Yorke, the man who shared his body but not his mind.
By this time both Hetty and Fergus had left, the former barely two decades after we first met and the latter after he and Henry went to cause some chaos across Europe. I myself had enjoyed some years by myself for the first time in fifty years and had made my own way through Europe, eventually finding myself in Berlin despite some suspicion due to being English. For two years I entertained myself in anyway I saw fit, with anyone who caught my eye whether they wanted it or not though it was rare to find someone who didn't want anything to do with me.
At the time I was neither encouraging anyone to follow me to a more private location nor simply letting myself loose on someone in a burst of violence which was always so enjoyable, instead I was following a young man who was swaying left and right as he walked down the street. Not exactly glamorous but when you find yourself without much options what choice do you have but take the easiest one you can find?
I had turned a corner as I followed the man, my pace quickening as I got closer and closer, when I passed a figure sitting against a building. He was dressed in old and dirty clothes, and his face was covered in so much dirt I didn't recognise him for a few minutes as I walked away from him until my mind suddenly realised who he looked like. I turned around, the man I had been following forgotten as I approached the homeless man who couldn't possibly be who I thought he was.
"Henry? Is that you?" I almost whispered, but he still heard me and looked up at me in panic. He stared at me with pure terror in his eyes before they were slowly replaced with familiarity.
"Ross?"
"What happened to you? Where's Fergus?" I asked as I gently helped him up, with him flinching at my touch but allowing me to guide him up to his feet.
"It's...complicated. Fergus left to be by himself for awhile and I..." he trailed off and he looked past me before his gaze became more focused. "I'm sorry Ross, but I need to go. It was good seeing you again."
And with that Henry began to stumble away, leaving me just standing there while part of me told me to listen. The part of me that remembered how cruel Harry could be, of how much he terrified me and the way he would torture me, Hetty and Fergus. That if he didn't want anything to do with me I wasn't obligated to do anything for him, but at the same time another part of me said that he is the man who made me what I am and if I didn't owe him a little concern then what did I owe him?
"Henry, just wait for me." I said as I ran after him, and despite looking like he wanted to run away he stopped so I could catch up with him. "Please, just explain what's going on."
He had a pained expression on his face, visibly debating with himself on the possible merits and consequences of telling me what was happening. He still looked like he wanted to run, but he also looked incredibly tired and almost defeated which is not something I thought I would ever see. I was becoming even more worried than before, and a number of possible scenarios raced through my head. The Old Ones were hunting him, or he had angers an army of lycos, or anything else that would justify why the man I feared the most looked so terrified.
"My name isn't Henry." he finally whispered, and I frowned as he continued. "My name is Harry."
What Harry told me next confused me greatly and in truth I don't think I ever believed it to be true until some years later when I saw Harry change back into Henry, but despite my disbelief I allowed him to explain as I led him to my home. He explained how centuries ago his mind became broken after becoming a vampire, how he and Henry would take turns, and how different they were from each other. Henry was cruel and violent, with a bloodthirsty nature that terrified all but a few. Harry however would hate himself and sometimes even cry from guilt after taking a life, and would look at me with fear as if expecting me to attack him at any moment. In some ways he reminded me of Dwight after he returned from France, and while I wouldn't say the comparison is what stopped me from killing him it was what made me help him. For the next seven years I tolerated his weakness, allowed him to live with me until we had to move to Spain and helped him avoid other vampires. Sometimes he acted more like the Henry I knew, with a confidence which was close to being considered arrogance, but other times he couldn't be more different. And in a strange way I found myself enjoying Harry's company far more than I ever enjoyed Henry's, because for once I was able to let my guard down which I have never been able to do before.
Then one afternoon in 1881, I watched as Harry shook and fell unconscious, and when his eyes opened I knew immediately that it wasn't Harry. I was proven right when Henry beat me to the floor, and after my face was full of scars and bruises he left shouting that I better not speak about what had happened.
1895
Herrick was...not the sort of person I imagined I would recruit if I was putting it gently, as it was now starting to be called. It would actually take me five years to truly understand why I chose him.
I had run into Hetty five years previously, which proved to me a mistake as she was the one who suggested that it was about time I recruited someone. In her own words, while there wasn't a rule that vampires had to recruit she felt that since I was now one hundred and thirty-five years old I might benefit from having some company. Since my last encounter with Harry I've been by myself and avoided most vampire communities, reaching the point that Hetty claimed that some had started to think I had died and so she encouraged me to seek out a potential recruit. While I didn't say it I got the sense she was worried I would go crazy or cause problems if I didn't have some sort of connection to the rest of the vampires, and having seen her kill other vampires pretty easily in the past I decided to do what she said.
I had looked around, mostly soldiers since I figured I could then at least find a connection with them. Others such as artists and doctors had caught my eye since I also thought I might benefit from turning someone different from myself. But Herrick had found me feeding and had stared back at me with such defiance that I was actually impressed, and in what was possibly a moment of madness I decided to turn him into a vampire. I still don't understand why I did it, why I felt defiance meant so much to me in out of everything else that someone could offer. He actually reminded me of George in a way and I knew that if we had met when both of us had been human I would have hated him with a passion, but as vampires we simply enjoyed what our eternal life had to offer.
"Can I ask you something?" he asked on night, blood in his face while the corpse of a man sat next to him on a sofa.
"Of course." I responded after finishing up with the man's newly married wife, tossing her onto the bed while getting up to walk over and grab the bottle of wine that was on the small table.
"What's the point to all of this?" he asked, and when he saw my frown his clarified. "I mean, we live forever but what exactly is the point?
"Does there have to be a point? Was there a point to your life before you became a vampire?"
"Of course there was, it's the same as anyone else. Making a legacy, adding something to the world that proves that I was here." he explained as he stared into a wall, lost in his own thoughts as he continued to speak. "But now I will live forever, and therefore the original purpose of making a legacy becomes pointless. When I was human I was a clerk for a law firm, and having failed to find a wife I put most of my effort into that. As a vampire I have all the time in the world to build any sort of business I wanted, but what would be the point of spending decades building something like that when inevitably it would be made obsolete by something new. Because that's what will happen, I'm smart enough to know that."
"Well not all vampires live forever. Some are killed or grow tired of their existence. Perhaps you're legacy will be anyone you recruit, and then whoever they recruit." I suggested as I drank from the bottle.
"But like human children, that legacy is built on a frail foundation because they too could die before recruiting someone and then there would be no proof I existed at all. I had a friend when I was a boy, Charlie, who got run over by a carriage. His parents never had another child and passed away from illness a few years later, and I bet if I went back to where they lived nobody would know who they are. I would be surprised if there was anyone who even remembered Charlie, and if they did I imagine it will only take a few decades for them to be dead and buried. Once that happens, him and all the people who lived and died before him might as well have never existed at all because besides some graves there is nothing to truly remember them."
"You remember him. And his death is affecting your opinions and decisions now."
Herrick looked at me in surprise and became contemplative. "Yes, I suppose you're right about that. But is that our legacy? We kill some people, recruit others, and then live until in some way death claims us? And then even if the ones we recruit die before they do the same, our impact in the world is how briefly we affected the lives of mortals?"
"Is there something inherently wrong with that?"
"Well...yes, of course there is. We might rule this world but humanity gets to experience it and feel the consequences. If they can carve out some sort of legacy, then their existence has meaning. I could live to see any legacy I make fall apart and be destroyed, erased by time with only me to know it even existed. This world offers humanity something it doesn't offer us." he explained and he looked pathetic in that moment, almost defeated despite by many standards living the best possible life he could live. Then suddenly his eyes widened and he looked at me with excitement, and for the first time I actually felt scared of him for a lack of a better word.
"Unless we changed it. Changed the world and leave a lasting legacy that will endure." he almost whispered with a grin.
"I think the Old Ones might have a problem with that." I explained in an attempt to call him down.
"Yes." he replied as the excitement vanished and he learned back on the sofa. "Yes, I suppose they might."
Despite seemingly calming down, the look didn't disappear in his eyes and instead that passion and desire remained for many decades as he started getting more involved in vampire politics. Part of me knew that it would cause problems further down the line, but for reasons I couldn't explain I couldn't bring myself to kill him and instead continued my life as normal.
1917
He looked just like me, a fact which caused both of us to freeze when our eyes locked. He must be a descendant, though of who was anyone's guess. Jeremy, Clowance, the child I never met or even Valentine. In truth it didn't matter who he was or how he was related to me, what mattered was that he was my descendant while not that far away was Herrick and the others. So I did the first thing that came to mind, which was to grab him and throw him behind a tree while forcing the rifle out of his grip, with my strength and his surprise allowing me to do this without any struggle.
"Listen to me carefully." I told him firmly while my eyes glanced around in case anyone saw us.
"What the hell, how do you look like me?" he asked with an Irish accent, before he started to struggle against the arm I was using to hold him against the tree. "Fucking hell, let go of me!"
"Not until you listen to me! What's your name?"
"What!?"
"Tell me you're name!"
"John Mitchell! My name's John Mitchell!" he replied in panic.
"Alright John, my name's Ross. I don't know why you're out here, but I want you to go back to wherever it is you're camped and forget about me. Because if you go any further there are people who will kill you, but if you go back they will be gone by tomorrow. Do you understand?" I asked him but he only looked back at me in fear, so with a blink my eyes became pitch black and I opened my mouth wide to show my fangs. "Do you understand!"
"Yes, oh dear God, I understand!" he yelled in horror and I let go of him, John falling to the ground in surprise before he pushed himself and began to run.
"John, wait!" I shouted and he froze, slowly turning around to look at me.
I looked at his face, trying to determine if there were any differences besides my scar and which of my children he resembled the most. But there was nothing so all I did was throw him his rifle which he caught with both hands. "Good luck John."
He stared at me with a mixture of emotions, fear and confusion being the biggest, before he began to run away as fast he could. I watched him leave before I made my way back to where I had left Herrick.
1970
Josie wasn't anything like Elizabeth or Demelza, which wasn't a bad thing. We got a few odd looks, which also wasn't a bad thing since to the casual observer I looked to be more than a decade older than the twenty-six year old. Times have changed and I knew that looking back at my relationship with Demelza people today would have had serious problems with it that I could understand. I also didn't love Jose like Elizabeth and especially not like Demelza, but that also wasn't a bad thing because I knew she didn't love me like that either. We loved each other deeply despite not having even been together for a full year and wanted the other to be as happy as possible, but we both knew that we were just two lonely people finding comfort with each other and that we would never be in love with each other.
I've recently been trying to stop drinking blood, and more importantly stop killing, for a while by this point and have slowly distanced myself from other vampires. Thankfully I've developed a reputation in the vampire community of vanishing and reappearing, so not even Herrick has noticed that I have been increasingly absent and have more or less left me alone. Which has actually made it easy for me to date Josie for the last since months, ever since I met her at that pub and we shared a pack of cigarettes while flirting until she suggested I walked her home. I won't lie and say that the thought of drinking from her hadn't crossed my mind, but recently I've been trying to not drink so much. Not stop, I know some vampires try to do that like that one named Carl, but recently I've tried to live my life without a semi-constant haze of bloodlust ruling my actions. It's been difficult to put it gently, the memories it brought back were difficult but thankfully there was always someone who enjoyed being fed on when things were difficult and it wasn't hard to feed on someone without them knowing as long as I was careful. So far nobody has died and I've been slowly drinking less and less, so really things haven't been this good for me for over a century and a half.
It had however added to the difficulty of hiding my true nature from Josie, as being so close to her simply made me think of the blood in her veins and my attempts at going clean were making it much harder than it would have been if I was still feeding normally. And while she didn't know the reason why I was acting so strange, she was understandably worried about me and had been asking questions that I couldn't answer without telling her what I am. Which was why I was currently pacing around our room at the Clifton Hotel, desperately trying to figure what was the best way to tell her while she was finishing in the shower. I had obviously had lovers before since becoming a vampire, but I've never actually had a proper relationship with a human and therefore I didn't know what to expect from this conversation.
So far, I only see three realistic outcomes: she thinks I'm insane and runs away, she believes me and runs away because I'm a monster, or in the best case scenario she thinks I'm joking, or trying some sort of role play with her, and that gives me the excuse to change my mind. As I heard her finish up in the shower, I was struck with this deep desire to escape the room, to just run as fast as I could and forget about Josie. I was older than her by more than a hundred and eighty years, she was unlikely to live more than sixty years by which time I would be exactly the same and might have forgotten her entirely. As this thought crossed my mind I took a step towards the door, but froze when Josie suddenly came out of the shower in a bathrobe and leaped onto the bed happily.
"This place is amazing. Really, I don't think I've been anywhere better than here." she told him, and the look she was giving me made me want to forget all about telling her the truth and just enjoy this time together. Josie lied to her friends and boss to get out of work, and even stole her mother's wedding ring so they could sell the idea that they were married. She didn't deserve to have something this big dropped on her and with a somewhat forced smile, I approached and kissed her gently as we fell onto the bed.
"Again?" she asked playfully between kisses. "I don't know, I think we could both use a good night sleep."
"It's two in the morning, and it was your idea to run away for a few days."
"To relax and enjoy some time together."
"We both know what you really meant when you said that."
Josie laughed at that before speaking again. "God, I love you."
I froze before getting off the bed, hating myself for even getting involved with Josie who looked at me with concern. Because we both knew we could never be in love with each other, we had both been clear about that, but that didn't change the fact we did love each other. So how can I continue being with her if I don't tell her what I really am and why this relationship ultimately can't last? It would be cruel to just leave without an explanation and she deserves to know why, to know what I am and what exactly she's getting into when she's with me.
"Josie, there's something I need to tell you." I started calmly.
2007
I rarely spoke to Seth, despite having known him for over a century, but in an attempt to impress me he had invited me out and given me the location of some cafe. I had been tempted to just ignore him like I usually do, but I had admittedly been somewhat lonely in the last decade. So I was allowing myself to be dragged back into the vampire community of Bristol which Herrick was somehow in charge of, and interacting Seth and his two friends might be a tedious experience but it had to be better than sitting at home. Granted I really enjoyed The Real Hustle and most other television shows, and I enjoyed cooking myself meals that wouldn't have been possible back when I was human. But still, I needed to get out more and that's why I was making my way to where Seth had told me to find him.
It's only when I heard some yelling near the cafe that I remembered why I didn't like spending anytime with Seth, and as I went down the alleyway to see him and his friends beating up some unlucky bastard, I scolded myself for not killing Seth when I had the chance instead of letting Herrick turn him. Seth was a thug, he's good for nothing except hurting others just like Tom Harry, and he didn't have qualities to balance this out. But as it turns out, spend enough time away from someone and you really can forget all their worst qualities.
"Hey! What going on!?" I shouted, startling Seth and his friends, who I think were called Marco and Turlow though I didn't specifically know who was who.
"Ross. Glad you could make it." Seth replied, wearing glasses which I guess he took from the man he was beating. Having noticed I was looking a them he quickly took them off and tried to look more professional. "Sorry about this, didn't want a lyco to be serving you food."
I paused at that, glancing down at the man who was whimpering in pain with blood on his face. Now that I was taking a moment I could smell what he was, and like always I felt the surge of disgust and hatred I always felt when I found one of these animals. It's the same feeling I had when I watched them in dogfights or back in the war where we defeated the werewolf army, and it's a feeling that makes me want to join the others in beating him to death. A few decades ago I might have given in, but now I just wanted something peaceful and killing what I assumed was the cafe's cook wasn't how I wanted to spend my night.
"And what, you thought it would be fun for the three of you to beat up the lyco two weeks before the full moon?" I asked which earned me looks of surprise from Seth's friends, while Seth himself frowned as I continued. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You weren't exactly a fan of a fair fights back during the war were you."
It was probably a low blow, but it was certainly an accurate comment considering how Seth was known for avoiding the worst of the war or only getting involved when he had more backup than needed. Seth looked shocked for a moment before he glared, and he forced the glasses into my hand in a manner that once would have made me kill him. But again, I didn't want to kill anyone tonight so I let it go.
"Fine, you deal with him. Come on." he said while gesturing to his friends, and the three of them quickly departed while leaving me alone with the wolf.
"They...They were going to kill me?" the man whimpered, drawing my attention to him.
"Yeah." I answered with a shrug, because what other response was there.
"Why?" he asked as he sobbed, and I almost snorted at the stupidity of the question until I realised how genuinely confused and scared he was. He was new to all of this, or at least to the idea of there being monsters other than werewolves. Surprisingly I felt something that might be considered pity, and I slowly made my way towards him to avoid frightening him.
"They don't like werewolves. To be fair, you don't like us either." I explained as I handed him his glasses, which he took as he looked up at me in surprise.
"How did they know? Why would they even think I was a... A you know what?" he asked while slowly standing up.
"People like me are good at noticing people like you. I'm pretty sure you will be the same after a few years." I answered after rolling my eyes at his reluctance to say the word.
"People like you?"
"Yeah, vampires. So do you live near here?"
"Yes, I have a flat just above the..." he trailed off once he realised what I had just said. "Wait, did you just say vampires?"
"You're going to have to move. They're going to come back and finish the job." I told him before again rolling my eyes at his ignorance. "Are you really that surprised that you're not the only monster in the world?"
He didn't respond, just looked at me in shock and horror while backing away slightly until he hit the fence as if I was going to leap at him just like Seth and the others. I ignored him and feeling somewhat satisfied with my random good deed for the night, I started to walk away while trying to figure out what I should do next. Maybe I'll find a place to eat, or perhaps get ahead of Seth and talk to Herrick first to explain why I stood up for a dog. I doubted Herrick would say anything too bad even if he was less frightened of my anger than he used to be, but it might still be a good idea to make sure he doesn't think I'm going mad.
"And then what!?" a voice called out and I turned around in surprise, the werewolf staring at me with a look I couldn't figure out.
"I can't keep running...I have lost everything." he began, and intrigued by what he might said I simply stood patiently. "I've had this for six months, and now there are vampires? And they want to kill me because of what I am? So I ask you, what do I do next?"
We stood there for a moment, watching each other as thoughts raced through our minds. I didn't know what he was thinking or expecting, but surprisingly I also wasn't sure what I was going to do. I really don't know what caused me to do what I did next, why I took pity on him because it's been a long time since I've done good things for others. Maybe I was just bored, perhaps yet again I wanted another try at controlling my hunger for blood, perhaps I was just getting sentimental in my old age. But instead of just leaving the man to cry alone like I should have done, I simply sighed and started to approach him.
"My name's Ross." I told him and he was clearly surprised by this, to the point I had to wait a few seconds staring at him expectantly until he realised what I was waiting for.
"I'm George."
I laughed at that while he simply frowned, not understanding the joke. "Of course that's your name. Well George, how about we find you somewhere safe to sleep tonight?"
Please tell me what you think and if there are any spelling mistakes or sentences that don't make sense. So I included Hetty because I've always liked the idea that Hal recruited her, therefore making him indirectly responsible for everything that happened. In regards to Hal's name I wanted to explain why different episodes gave him the name Harry or Henry, and since evil Hal called himself Henry Yorke when introducing himself to Nick's wife I decided that would be his name and perhaps Fergus called Hal Lord Harry since he had figured out he was dealing with good Hal. Maybe I'll write a separate one shot exploring this idea in better detail one day.