Baz's heart was racing, which was a strange experience for him. He knew life; its taste, its smell, its look, but he had never experienced it. It was strange and almost painful, but blissful at the same time. He had always felt closed off and cold in a world full of life. And now he felt as though those walls were coming down, that he might actually be able to be close to another living being. Then he remembered that he already was. He had Simon. Then he remembered that by bringing him back to life, the poison was also killing him. Slowly but steadily. The thing about vampires is that fangs are vital to their survival. By "curing" him, his fangs would disappear far before his need for blood. So he would feel the hunger and have no way of eating. He would die just days after his fangs would disappear. Or maybe he would be dead before then... Baz shook his head, snapping back to reality. Simon stood still, mouth agape and eyes wide. Baz could practically see smoke coming out his ears.
"Wait, she's doing what?" Asked Simon, shaking his head.
"She's making me into not a vampire" said Baz, rolling his eyes. Simon's pupils were tiny and shaky. How was that possible? How could she do that?
"How is that possible?" Echoed Simon.
"Necromancy" said Baz, looking at his arms. He could feel the heat coming off of them. He could also feel Simon's eyes boring into the top of his head.
"Baz...are you saying that you've been touched by necromancy?" He said quietly, as though all of his breath had been forced from his lungs.
"Yes" Baz tried to sound nonchalant, but his mind had been racing since he had figured it out for himself. Necromancy was dangerous, especially when used on a vampire. It was the most dangerous of dark magic. To toy with death itself, well, let's just say that death himself would come back to take his revenge. Brutally. Necromancers had been known for some of the worst deaths in recorded history. And anyone who had been touched by necromancy were returned to their resting state. They would drop dead where they were. And the thought of dying, really dying, opened a pit in Baz's stomach.
"Baz...necromancy! Just, oh god Baz" said Simon, hugging Baz tightly, never wanting to let go.
"Come off it, Simon, it's not that bad" whispered Baz, voice shaking. He forced his jaw shut and wouldn't allow it to quiver. It did anyways. He knew that he could die in the next month. And that thought scared him beyond belief. He wasn't really scared of death itself, it was what came with death. He had experienced death before. It was cold and darkness everywhere. And the pain. The pain was unbearable. It felt like it was ripping his very soul apart. The thought of having to experience that for all of eternity made him shudder. And beyond all of that was Simon. You see, a vampire's soul, when they're what's considered a "good" vampire, will live on and roam the earth. Knowing that he would be so close to Simon and not be able to really be near him hurt worst. But right now, for the moment, he was here with Simon, and he was glad for that.
Baz was walking around, his feet crunching in the deep snow. He was still getting used to feeling the cold, to having any feeling at all. He stopped, a hare burrowing into the snow a few feet away. It noticed him as well and stopped, twitching its nose. Baz's stomach grumbled and it ran off. Baz didn't chase it. Ever since he had gotten poisoned, he hadn't been able to hunt properly. He had been feeding off of vermin for the past week or so, and couldn't bring himself to hunt anything larger.
His back stiffened as a doe wandered into the clearing. It looked at him and looked back, herding out a baby. It was fumbling on its long legs in the thick snow, but its mother helped it up. Baz walked towards them slowly and crouched down, letting the mother sniff him. She deemed him safe and stepped back, allowing her baby to crawl into Baz's lap. He grabbed the baby and held it up to eye level. He could feel its heart beating, could hear its blood rushing. He tried desperately to try and summon any amount of hunger, any trace of desire, but couldn't. All he got was disgust at himself for wanting to eat the little creature. He petted its head and set it down, watching him wobble back to his mother and the two of them disappeared into the trees. Baz's stomach grumbled.
"Why does it matter?" Growled Baz. He had been arguing with this damned butcher for over ten minutes now.
"It matters because I want to know what you need with a gallon of fresh pigs blood at 2:00 in the morning!" He argued back, scratching his mustache. Baz crossed his arms over his chest.
"Maybe I'll just take my business, and my money elsewhere" he said coolly,
Sweeping towards the door.
"Wait!" Cried the man. "Fine, here you go, here's your damn pigs blood" he said angrily, holding out a large plastic container to him. Baz smiled and took the container, dropping a ten on the counter.
"Keep the change, asshole" he said, pushing his way into the dark parking lot.
A/N: The last bit was really just a mood lightener that I wrote for fun. Thanks guys for, at the moment, 414 views on this story, as well as all of the kind reviews! It really touches my heart. Thank you all so much!
