He held gerard against the wall, nearing his shapr fangs near his tender, pale flesh.
"You...can't do this! Please stop, you're hurting me!"
Pete chuckled, and lightly wiped one of Gerard's tears with his right thumb.
"Oh baby, you haven't even felt real pain yet."
It was horrible. Every second Pete's damp lips neared his jugular, he felt as if time grew slower, almost stopping. The anxiety flared in bursts, up and down, acceptance and denial.
'Is this really happening? Am I really going to be killed? By an actual vampire?"
Vampires aren't real. Fangs aren't real. This WASN'T real. It was obviously a hallucination. Someone must've roofied his drink. Did LSD come in liquid form? Did someone try to fuck him up starting with his drink? Pete wanting him to have fun now made a lot more sense.
BAM. A loud noise filled the alleyway, echoing in his ears. Did someone get shot? Maybe, but the loud eruption barely resembled a gunshot. He started to turn his head, and saw a dark figure, a shadowed angel in the distance.
That's when the angel broke into a sprint.
Pete let go for a moment, and Gerard squeezed out of his grip, and fell to the wet and garage riddled pavement. He started to wiggle away, propping himself up against a stray trash can, and watched the scene unfold.
The angel was standing, horizontal to Pete, who was definitely on the defensive. They began to circle each other, and as he came closer to Gerard, he saw that the nagel was wearing black on black on motherfucking black. His face his was also covered either by an ornate mask or very creative and elaborate face paint, and his hair was hidden by a hood.
"So," cackled Pete Wentz "You've found me. Finally. I was starting to think that you were slowing down." he turned to Gerard and licked his lips. "You've just interrupted my meal."
The figure moved closer "Wow, you underestimated me buddy. I've been tracking you since March."
The figure lunged, and tackled Pete to the ground, and held a...weapon?
He then stabbed it right into Pete's heart.