(A/N: By the way, if you'd like to know what I listen to in order to get in the mood for this AU, just look up that artist/song mentioned in the pervious chapter. ^_^)

Into the Dawn - Chapter Seven

Like everyone else in the hall, Miles turned immediately, scanning the scene to try and figure out from where the scream had come. He felt Phoenix grab his arm protectively, probably ready to throw him out of the way if anything happened.

It took only a brief moment of searching to find what was wrong.

A man was standing near one of the back tables - a vampire - and the woman who had apparently screamed was with him, hands on his shoulders as she stared at him. His face appeared to be burning.

Everyone stared in shock and confusion as the man's skin began to sear and blacken in places, and he soon started howling in agony and retching. He doubled over, blood red vomit erupting from his wide-open mouth. Miles gawked at the confusing and disturbing sight as the woman cried and shouted for someone to help the man, but no one really knew what what to do.

Then, the shouts of terror began to come from other parts of the room. Miles' heart leaped into his throat as he realized the same thing was happening to others, as if they were frying from the inside. Each gave into vomiting up blood, as if they had been poisoned, and each soon collapsed to the floor as people around them panicked. Fearing the worst, Miles turned to look at Phoenix, but so far he looked normal, albeit just as stunned.

Then, all Hell broke loose.

Miles wasn't entire sure what had happened, but he was lying on the floor. People everywhere were screaming, and from what he could see, running. The other sounds he heard were those of battle, no longer just the shrieks of those succumbing to that strange affliction and their friends. No, these were the wails of those running, fighting for their lives, and their death rattles.

He saw people sail overhead, vampires in the midst of fast-paced combat, but that soon stopped. He saw the woman he had been sitting beside tackled to the ground. He watched - petrified - as the man atop her bit down on her throat and tore it away. He watched as the vampire began drinking from the gaping wound, the woman's eyes bulging and mouth wide as she drowned in her own blood.

Phoenix... Where was Phoenix!? He had to find-

"Phoenix!" Overtaken by panic and unable to think, Miles began scrambling to get off the floor and run toward his lover, whom he had spotted in the hall leading toward the elevator and stairs. He was in a fight with another vampire, and he did not appear to be faring well. Miles managed to get to his feet and started running, sliding on fresh blood and gore mixed with ash. His vision tunneled on Phoenix. He had to reach him! He had to-

Something hit his chest hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. He was thrown backward, landing on a nearby table. Plates and glasses scattered, most falling to the floor and shattering. Hands pinned his shoulders down and fangs loomed above him, poised, ready to strike, glistening with saliva and blood.

Miles couldn't scream. He couldn't even breathe, and his heart had stopped, as if it already knew he was about to die and had decided to check out early. He was about to meet the same fate as that woman, an image that would be burned into his memory even on into the afterlife.

"Stop!"

On the contrary, his heart suddenly started pounding against his ribs in a bid to flee. He gasped for air, eyes darting about to search for the one that had spoken. The monster leaning over him growled in irritation and looked to the side.

It was there they both saw Councilor Mason, his fancy Gothic clothing drenched in blood. "Leave that one alive. There are people around here that know his face. We want people to see what we do to this one."

The man that had been about to kill him glared momentarily at the councilor, then turned his attention back on Miles. Wild, merciless green eyes stared down at him, clearly enjoying his fear. Miles, however, was looking toward the hallway, watching Phoenix struggle, desperate to reach him, to call out to him.

"That your master, little boy?" growled his attacker, letting out a harsh laugh. "Go on then. Run along! Go get him! See how long you last!" With that, Miles was dragged off of the table and practically thrown toward the hallway. He had no idea why he'd been released or how far he'd get, but the prosecutor stumbled, caught himself, and started sprinting through the carnage. As he ran, he reached down to snatch something out of his left boot, the ability to conceal it having been his only positive thought about the outfit he wore.

The fight had taken Phoenix and the other man into the elevator, and Phoenix was pinned. From the looks of it, his opponent was attempting to tear his head off, something Miles was certain would be fatal even to a vampire. The doors of the elevator were beginning to close, but Miles had made it in time. Praying to whatever might be out there watching, he lunged, knowing he had only one chance to save his lover and himself. Gripping the weapon in both hands, he took aim slightly to the left of the vampire's spine, and with a savage yell, he drove it downward with all of his might.

He felt the point make contact, felt it punch through skin, muscle, and whatever else stood in its path. Blood splattered his hands and face, and what sounded to him like the anguished roar of a dying beast filled the tiny metal box. The form before him began to disintegrate, ash raining down over Phoenix until it collapsed in a huge pile along with the outfit it had been wearing.

Miles stood there, frozen with his bloody spear held in both hands for a few heartbeats, then dropped to his knees, sweeping a large portion of the ash away with an arm. "Phoenix..." he gasped, breathing so quickly he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "Oh god... What's... what's h-happening...?" He was far too terrified by everything else going on around them to care that he was currently closed in an elevator, even as a dismembered arm rode down with them.

Phoenix looked to be having trouble getting his bearings, but he began to struggle up off the floor. As he did so, he took a hold of Miles arm and swung him around to put himself between the elevator doors and the prosecutor. "Keep your head down," he ordered in a rasping growl, clearly still in fight mode.

Miles held onto Phoenix's shirt, unable to stop shaking. "Y-you're hurt! You can't-"

"Got a better idea?!"

Just then, the elevator stopped and they heard a merry little ding before the doors opened to instantly assault them with the screams of the frightful and dying. People had fled down the stairs and vampires had pursued, and while some were being slaughtered, others appeared as though they were being herded into the hallway of the underground motel. For a split second, Phoenix appeared to be assessing the situation and their options, then he moved into a crouched position. "Hold on, and don't fucking let go for anything!" he commanded. Miles was not about to question this or Phoenix's uncharacteristic rage, simply wrapping his arms around the vampire's neck from behind, putting his head down, and holding on for dear life.

In a blink, they were out of the elevator and flying down the hallway, speeding right past panicked people fleeing as fast as their legs would carry them. Miles tightened his grip and buried his face against Phoenix's shoulder, certain he would be sick if he continued to watch their movement. Then, it all stopped suddenly, and he had no idea how the momentum didn't bull Phoenix right over.

A quick glance around told him they were in their room. Phoenix grabbed one of his arms and twisted out of his hold. "Stay here. No matter what you hear, do not leave this room! Do you understand me?"

Miles looked at him fearfully, knowing exactly what this meant. "Y-you can't go back out th-" He gasped as Phoenix grabbed his shoulders and threw him backward with enough force to send him across the room and onto the bed.

"STAY HERE!"

By the time the stars cleared from his vision, Phoenix was gone and the door was shut. Miles didn't even try to get up, feeling weak and overwhelmed. He was trying to put the horrid flashes of picture and sound going through his head into some sort of order and context, but he couldn't make sense of it all. Bloody chaos: that was all this was to him. Now, everything was suddenly silent, a stark contrast that should have given his brain time to catch up. It wasn't really working...

He had no idea for how long he lay there, but the silence soon became too much and he staggered to his feet. He looked around helplessly, not knowing what to do or for how long he was supposed to wait here. He felt he needed to know what was going on outside this room, but he didn't want to know. All he could tell was that Phoenix was still alive. He couldn't exactly explain how he knew that, but he did. It was that... odd sense he had of the vampire whose blood he was sometimes given, and while he had no idea what that sensation was, he dreaded losing it.

Becoming aware again that his hands and face were flecked with drying blood, he made his way over to the bathroom sink and began to wash, his movements slow and mechanical. He felt almost as if he wasn't entirely driving his own actions at the moment, his mind trying to shut out the reality of what was happening. He scrubbed until he was certain every last bit of the stuff was gone, removing the makeup as a consequence: he didn't care. He didn't exactly have a mind to change, though. Someone could burst through that door at any moment, and if he had to die tonight, he would prefer to die clothed, even if it was in this ridiculous getup.

Far to anxious to sit still, he took to pacing, just waiting for something, anything to happen. Surely, hiding in here wasn't going to save him for long. They would be able to smell him. Of that, he had no doubt. He wanted to hope that the battle had turned around upstairs and that Phoenix would soon return and tell him they could safely leave, but he was not so naive. He was starting to make some sense of his jumbled thoughts, and he recalled that the battle had become nothing but a slaughter. That would not have happened had they any chance left.

So then, why was he still being left alone? Surely, they would send people out to find anyone who might be hiding. Or perhaps they knew that he couldn't hide forever and would eventually come out to check if it was safe or try and escape. Although, Phoenix was still alive... Did that bode well, or were they going to try and lure him out with the use of his *Master*?

Master... He suddenly recalled being pinned to the table, fearing he was literally about to die, and then... Then what? Mason... Yes, Councilor Mason had saved him... No, no that wasn't right. He'd told the one attacking him to 'leave him alive.' What did that mean? Were they sparing some people? Perhaps they meant for some to escape and spread the fear. He could only assume this attack was the doing of the Imperialists having infiltrated the Humanist convention. If he was correct, that meant even some of the Council was in on it... Mason included...

This had all been a trap, and it had worked.

He stopped pacing and grabbed the door handle tightly, gritting his teeth in frustration. He needed to know what was happening! He couldn't just hide here and wait for them to come kill him! He had to find Phoenix and... and figure something out! With that decision made, he took in a deep breath to try and brace himself for what could be on the other side of the door, and then flung it open.

The hallway beyond was empty, but he could hear distant voices. He peered around, able to see people back down by the entrance. What he was hearing sounded like frightened shouting and pleading, accompanied by a loud banging sound. Some of the figures appeared to be sitting against the wall with their heads covered, as if that would somehow protect them. His assessment led him to believe these were humans, but he couldn't be sure unless he approached.

Seeing no other way to get a feel for the situation, he stepped out of Room 22 and moved down the hall, treading carefully around splatters that made all the crime scenes he had investigated look like child's play. He almost felt he should be more afraid, too afraid to actually make this approach, but he was actually starting to go numb, as if his mind simply refused to comprehend any more of the horror surrounding him.

The gathered people were indeed humans, all absolutely terrified. Most were curled up and weeping, one muttering hysterically to herself, and others just sitting or standing rigid, staring straight ahead into nothingness. He also discovered the source of the yelling and banging. Metal bars had somehow been secured to block the hallway from the entrance lobby where the stairs and elevator were located, and a man was pounding on them, screaming for help and to be let out. Miles knew his efforts were futile, but he supposed he couldn't blame the man for his desperation. This wasn't exactly a situation in which people could generally think clearly; he was only managing somewhat because he had some practice operating under pressure, and the aforementioned numbness.

Just then, someone approached the bars from the other side and the sound of jangling keys caught most people's attention. The man at the bars started banging louder and more frantically, and soon they swung open.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so-" His words were cut off with a horrible choking sound as the familiar Hispanic woman reached into his mouth with a lightning quick motion and ripped out his tongue. He stood there with eyes blown wide and blood pouring from his gaping mouth. Some of the women nearby screamed, while other people gasped, but Catarina wasn't done. Next, she casually took a hold of each of the man's arms, tearing them clean off at the shoulder with what looked like little effort. He fell to the ground screaming, but at the rate he was losing blood, the sound soon petered out and he lost consciousness... or perhaps died of the shock.

Catarina stood there, drenched in a new layer of warm blood and looked around at the gathered people. "Now, does anyone else wish to cause a scene? No? Good. I thank you all for being so courteous. Do keep it that way." With that, she slammed the barred door shut again, simply leaving the desecrated body where it lay - a reminder, no doubt.

A few people had started vomiting while others just turned their faces away and wailed in mortal terror. Miles just stared at the gruesome sight, not really comprehending it the way he should have, and then turned to peer around. He didn't see Phoenix anywhere, but he could still feel his presence nearby.

He noted that some of the people looked calmer than others. Next to the rocking, muttering woman was another who - while she looked frightened - was more focused on trying to comfort her friend, speaking to her in Italian. Deciding to give it a try, Miles approached the pair and crouched down.

"...Will she be all right?" he asked, figuring it was best to open with polite concern instead of coldly asking his question as he wanted to do.

The Italian woman looked up, wiping at her eyes while she struggled to hold back her tears. "Her... Master was killed," she explained. "They had been bonded for five hundred years. I fear her mind is gone."

Miles frowned slightly in confusion. "Five hundred years? How is that... even possible...?" He looked again at the mumbling woman; she looked human enough...

The composed one briefly looked surprised, and then realization came over her. "O-oh, you... must be new to all of this. The bond... it keeps a human from aging, as long as they drink the blood regularly. But... if your Master dies... this is what can to happen..." She looked back down at her friend miserably, helpless to draw her back to awareness. "M-my Mistress is... is still alive, but... but I'm so afraid they will kill her soon." Upon saying this, the tears started to slip free.

"So, there are other vampires still alive, those other than our captors?" He had never been good at providing comfort, and he was certainly in no mood to try. "Do you know where they are?"

She looked up at him, studying him for a few seconds. She probably thought him insane himself, as his face was showing no emotion. "They... are down below, o-on the bottom level. I... I want to go check on my Mistress, but... there are guards down there, and..."

When she had mentioned the lower level, she'd glanced at a nearby door that did not appear to be barred or locked. It was for that door Miles was now headed, not sticking around to hear why that woman had opted not to descend. He had to find Phoenix. He wasn't going to wait around up here to be chosen for the next meal, or whatever the purpose of keeping them contained might be. He pulled open the door and was met with a poorly-lit staircase, which he began to descend.

When he reached the ground, he found himself in what appeared to be some osort of maintenance storage room. Crates, buckets, barrels, and random equipment was scattered about everywhere in no particular order, and the room was barely lit. The sound of a woman's fearful whimpering reached him, and he looked over to see a vampire in the midst of feeding from a clearly unwilling victim.

Fear was starting to return to him as he scanned the storeroom, trying to discern where Phoenix could be. At the far end of the room, he spotted a row of forms on the ground and decided to investigate. He began walking, eyes straight ahead, shoulders back, and pace steady, as if he belonged there. He didn't want to know if anyone noticed him, but if they did, he didn't want to provoke them to chase by running.

What he found were several shadowed people, all apparently chained up. He looked to each of them, and his heart leaped into his throat when he spotted Phoenix. No longer able to stop himself, Miles sprinted the rest of the distance and dropped to his knees, sliding to a stop beside his lover. "Phoenix...!" he whispered in panic, leaning over the man who appeared to be barely conscious. Now that he was close by, he noted that the chains appeared to be made of silver, and they were anchored heavily to the concrete floor. "Phoenix, can you hear me?"

"...told you to stay in the room..." Phoenix's voice was hoarse and he barely had the energy to move his lips.

"Y-you expected me to just hide and wait to die?" Miles could feel tears burning behind his eyes at seeing Phoenix like this, at realizing they were both utterly helpless. In an attempt to do something, he grabbed one of the chains and started trying to work it loose. He couldn't manage it, and when he let go and the metal fell back against Phoenix's arm, it made an unsettling sizzling noise as Phoenix hissed in pain. "Y-you... can't break them?" he asked, feeling dumb for even suggesting such a thing with how weak Phoenix looked.

"...silver..." the former attorney muttered. "...sapping all my strength... can't..."

Miles swallowed back the rising lump in his throat, looking around as if he would spot something that could help him. He had to think of something. He was Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth! His mind was his greatest weapon, and this was a pretty poor time for it to fail him.

In the end, all he could think of was how terrible Phoenix looked. He'd been hurt during the fighting and then bound with silver. Miles couldn't remove the chains, but maybe he could help his lover recover just a bit. He moved his arm to place his wrist near Phoenix's mouth. He'd been told it was more difficult to feed from the vessels there, but in Phoenix's current position, doing it any other way would be very awkward. "Here. You... need to heal up a bit."

Phoenix's gaze was unfocused and his eyelids were drooping, but he was looking at Miles quizzically. "...won't help me get out of this..."

"I know, but... but it should help the wounds from the fighting heal." Miles kept his arm steady, trying to set his face in a determined expression. He knew Phoenix was concerned for him, but he wasn't taking 'no' for an answer. His lover realized this, and with a resigned look, parted his lips and extended his fangs. Miles flinched when he was bitten, but he managed to hold back any sound. He sat rigid, doing his best to control his breathing in this dark, musty room where at any point he could be snatched up by one of the monsters lurking between him and the exit. He kept his gaze locked with Phoenix's, realizing he'd never actually watched his lover feed from him before. It was... an odd sight, but he was so used to the idea after six months of allowing it that it didn't really bother him as much as it might have otherwise.

The sound of approaching footsteps made Miles tense up severely, and a familiar voice reached his ears. "Well, isn't this sweet..."

Phoenix withdrew his fangs, though he did not retract them; the sight of them coated in his blood did end up making Miles' avert his gaze. "Mason... You backstabbing son of a bitch... When I get out of this..." Phoenix still sounded exhausted and hoarse, but a little stronger and able to put an angry growl behind his words.

Councilor Mason laughed. "You'll do what? You're just a baby, after all. Almost makes me feel guilty for all of this... Almost." He came closer, and before Miles could move away, took a handful of the prosecutor's hair and forced him to tilt his head back. Miles heard a vicious snarl from his lover, but nothing could be done. "Brave for a rich little paper-pusher who prances around in frills and a pink suit."

Miles wasn't sure where he found his courage. Perhaps it was being near Phoenix, coupled with the wish to keep some dignity before he died. No matter the cause, Councilman Mason was met with the full force of Prosecutor Edgeworth's glare. "It's called fashion, you uncultured swine, and I've had more dangerous men than you after my blood. It always ends the same way. Your case will be no different." He could feel his hair straining at the roots, but he absolutely refused to let the pain show on his face. He wasn't giving this monster the satisfaction.

Mason sneered down at him. "I doubt that," he stated with cool confidence before releasing his grip. Miles shifted away from him and closer to Phoenix, taking up something of a protective pose and continuing to glare up at their captor. "You are both going to die very, very soon, and you, Mr. Edgeworth, are going to be a part of history: one of the humans we use to show the world just what we are and what we can do."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Phoenix demanded.

Mason smirked, clasping his hands behind his back. "Have you ever heard the term 'snuff', Mr. Wright?"

Miles felt his heart plunge into his stomach and Phoenix flinched beside him.

"We as vampires aren't the only ones who take pleasure in the suffering of humans. There are humans who enjoy it just as much, and they have their little secluded corners in cyberspace to indulge that fetish. Well, we have decided that those people will be the first to see what we are and what we can really do, what kind of suffering can really be inflicted on mankind. Inevitably, word will spread and the videos will start to circulate. People will debate on whether or not any of it is real and vehemently condemn anyone who would watch such 'filth.' Then, they'll go home and search up more of the recordings, which we will be oh so happy to provide them. They will watch with fascination as we slaughter their own kind one by one: politicians, celebrities, you name it. The sedated masses will never know they've been conquered until it is too late, despite watching it happen."

Miles and Phoenix both stared openly at the villain standing before them, and it was Miles who found his voice first. "...You're insane..." was what came out, because it was all that was going through his head after hearing this plan. "If you believe this is actually going to work, you are completely mad."

Mason's smirk grew and was joined by a cruel laugh. "Think what you will, human, but we will see just how many people enjoy watching you die. Oh, and don't expect it to be quick, either. That's no fun. You're going to scream and cry and beg before we finally put you down, and it'll all be recorded for your fellow man to watch at his leisure." With that promise, Mason turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the other two men to process the magnitude of what they had just been told.

Slowly, Miles turned his gaze back to Phoenix, who was staring back at him with a look of fear that the prosecutor had not seen in him even once since his change. It made his heart skip a beat, and he felt his hopes fading. If Phoenix - an immortal creature with superhuman strength and speed - was afraid, what business did he have trying to be brave or daring to hope for their survival? He swallowed hard, fighting to keep down the panic. "Phoenix, I... I'm going to... find a way out of this for both of us..." He was more trying to convince himself, and according to the look on Phoenix's face, it was obvious.

"If you're going to do that, you can't stay down here," Phoenix told him. "Please, take the room key from my pocket and go back upstairs before that guard decides he's still hungry."

Miles turned to peer over his shoulder for a brief instant, then looked back down. "Phoenix... I-if... If I don't see you again..."

"Miles, don't. I can't think about-"

"J-just listen!" Despite his struggle to keep them in, hot tears were starting to leak from the corners of Miles' eyes, and the burning in his throat was choking his words. "If I don't see you again, I... I need you to know that... I..." He swallowed hard and dropped his head, grasping for the last of his courage. "...I love you..."

A silence fell between them, and Miles was having difficulty controlling his breathing. He was clutching his own left arm so tightly he could feel the fingers of that hand starting to go numb. He stared hard at the floor, at the patterns in the thick layer of dust and grime.

"Miles... Look at me."

Drawing in a trembling breath, Miles lifted his chin and forced himself to meet those stunningly beautiful blue eyes. He was instantly transfixed by them, but he knew it was not hypnosis.

"We've found our way out of desperate situations before. We can do it again. I... I won't give up if you won't. Still... regardless of what happens, I love you, too. I've loved you for years, Miles, longer than you'd probably care to know." Blood was trickling from Phoenix's eyes, and since it could not be morning yet, Miles knew those were bloody teardrops.

Despite the blood, Miles leaned down and kissed Phoenix, adding his own tears to the mix. "It has taken too much time and too much effort for us to come together only to be torn apart by these savages. I won't let it happen."

"Then go, and be safe."

"There is nowhere safe, but I will try." One more kiss, and then Miles fished out the card key and stood, forcing himself to walk away and leave his lover alone,chained in this desolate place. He reached up to wipe away his tears and crammed the fear and sorrow deep down inside, replacing it with a stone mask of resolution.

Perhaps they were both destined to die here, but it would not be without a fight.