Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you are walking towards your APARTMENT. It is currently FOUR AM and you still haven't taken your SHADES off. You act like you can see and act like you aren't scared of the flitting shadows you think you see and that eerie sensation of being watched.
You know your instincts are fine-tuned and well trained. So there probably is someone behind you.
You don't turn around.
You think you should have, you think you really should have.
Because, in less than a second, you're against a wall, and in great pain.
You see black hair and a scar. You feel teeth in your neck. It's all so surreal. You feel drugged, and it takes you several moments to realise that you are probably dying. The shock and loss of blood, probably. Maybe head trauma? Ugh, it hurts to think.
So you don't. Not about why or how, anyway.
You think of your brother and friends and sister. You apologise for a lot of things. You realise you don't want to die, and you're scared of what comes next.
You wonder what happens next, you wonder if they'll mourn you for long.
Probably not, you decide.
The black clouds your drugged vision.
The last thing you see are the stars.
You hear voices. Your brother. What is your brother doing in the afterlife?
You feel cold.
Is this was death is? A cold soul and distant voices? Maybe you're in limbo? You aren't sure. You also aren't sure if you have a body, you can't feel one anyway. Just a consciousness floating on infinity.
The voice of your brother gets clearer by the second, and soon you can actually understand it.
You have to be fucking joking. There's no way he's… there has to be a mistake, or something you can do! He can't just die!
He sounds upset. You want to tell him it's okay. But you doesn't really think it is.
You don't want to be dead.
I'm sorry sir. There's nothing we can do. I'll leave you to mourn.
You hear your brother punch something.
You hear sobs.
…Dave…there had to have been a mistake, right? You're my lil' bro…you can't…
You would give anything to sit up. To tell your Bro that you're okay.
You try to sit up, to go to Bro's voice. That's what they do in movies, right? Go to the voice of the living.
This will to give anything to wake up and these attempts to get to Bro seem to trigger something.
Holy fucking shit. I need a doctor! Right the fuck now!
You hear this. Loud. Far too loud.
Dave? Dave can you hear me?
Yes you can. Bro's voice is too loud, though. Too loud on your suddenly sensitive ears. The cold feeling subsides little, but bodily sensation slowly returns to you. You feels cold hard metal, and searing pain.
You think you scream, but aren't sure. Everything is suddenly drowned out by this pain. You feel those bodily sensations slipping away, and you fight to keep them, even if it comes with utter agony, but it's like fighting a terrifyingly strong current, but you are determined to "Make it up-stream" as it were.
You need to see your brother. You can't die on him like this.
Shit! Shit! Hang in there Dave! Fuck!
You grit your teeth against the pain and rejoice in it, you can move again, it seems.
You screw your eyes shut and opening them seems like a bad idea at this point.
Someone shakes you. It smells like Bro. Your nose burns.
You hear the soft scrape of nail against metal, You're clinging to the table you're on.
Where's that fucking doctor, didn't he fucking hear me?
Bro sounds panicked.
The fog clears but the pain is the last thing to fade. Your eyes are still shut when you hear yourself flop onto the table and pant softly, but the oxygen seems unnecessary and does nothing for you, feeling more habitual than anything else.
You blink your eyes open. Your brother is holding you to the metal table of the morgue, a doctor has yet to appear.
"It's a fucking miracle…" your Bro whispers, and lets you go. You attempt to find the strength to sit up, but this attempt is shot down by Bro, who pushes you down gently. "Not yet lil' man, we gotta get you to a bed. Preferably home. This place is shit." You attempt to laugh, but it's hoarse and hurts.
You notice how bright it is, and remember they probably took off your shades.
A doctor arrives. She's petite and pale, her short black hair stood stiff with hair spray and her jade eyes soft with a motherly kindness. She carries a clipboard, and you wonder if it has something to do with you on it. You notice the smell of perfume and blood, as well as the hospital itself, and something triggers within you that can only be described as a feeling that she is with you, one of you. A comrade.
"Mr. Strider, am I correct?" she shuts the door behind her.
"My name is Kanaya Maryam. Dr Maryam or Kanaya is fine," she shuts the door behind her, and places the clipboard she had been holding down.
"Alright. So, Dave's alive, so you can call off the funeral arrangements and shit, we'll be going as soon as possible, send me the bill in the post." Bro is eager to leave, and you can understand why, he's emotionally and physically taxed and you miss the comfort of your home. Though you get a feeling of anxiety when you think of walking home alone again.
God you're an idiot.
"Already done, the cancelation of post-death arrangements, that is. I volunteered to see what the fuss you were making was about on more of a personal basis." Bro frowns and you look between them, too weak to step in and distrustful of your voice to speak.
"Personal basis? Tell me more." She fixes her coat and clears her throat, before speaking again.
"Dave was pronounced dead around half an hour ago, correct? The doctors had given up any hopes of reviving him, and couldn't find what was wrong with him other than severe blood loss, and attempted an emergency blood transfusion. This seemed to help, but he tip-toed closer to death with every moment, and sure enough, here we are. Now, I appreciate this is an emotionally trying evening for you both, but I feel the truth is better than allowing you to leave without this knowledge.
Dave Strider did indeed die today. In fact, he's dead right now. As am I. You see, I was admitted into hospital back home in New York with the exact same symptoms, with an almost identical result. Your struggle to live, Dave, came at a price." She's turned to you now. And your confusion and fear over what she's saying forces your face into a tense and probably unattractive face. Ugh.
"You are no longer human. You have been turned into a vampire, as insane as that sounds. I understand that it is very easy to call me mad and move on, but it is the truth. Mr, Strider, check your younger brother for a pulse. Any signs of life at all, other than the fact he's awake."
Your brother does as she asks, checking your wrist, then neck for a pulse (avoiding a bandaged wound) and his face falls into one of utter shock and disbelief. He tries again, with apparently the same result, his skin is far too warm on your skin.
"Nothing…" he says, and the penny drops.
In fact, he's dead right now.
"I'm…Dead?" you whisper, and you understand the searing pain and unusual murder method, and the fact nobody had a motive to kill you, really.
"Undead, technically. You have lost the privilege of death. We both have." You're about to ask her what meant by "privilege" when your Bro cuts in.
"So you're saying I'm going to grow old and he won't have changed a single bit?" Your chest tightens with fear, he can't leave you, nope. No way.
"Yes. Unless he were to turn you, of course." You would never offer your Bro that pain, but you find a selfish part of you wanting too, because you don't want to be alone in the eternity you apparently have to face.
"Hmm. I'll have to think on that one," he surprises you. You suddenly aren't sure that, even if he asked you to, you could turn your Bro.
"What happened to you?" you find yourself asking, and Kanaya's mouth tightens, but she tells you her story regardless.
"I was in university, when I met a man called Eridan Ampora. He was studying History. We spoke for a while and he was a perfectly tolerable man. Out of nowhere, he was an unstoppable and rather angry foe. He attacked me and our shared friend Feferi, who was studying Marine biology, I remember her passion for the subject well.
Unfortunately, she didn't make it, not even into Vampire-hood. I threatened my revenge and Eridan begged for my forgiveness, he exiled himself out of guilt and I haven't seen him since."
You decide that you shouldn't piss Kanaya off, and that she deserves kindness.
"How about yourself?" didn't she know?
"I was walking home, I had been working, I have a sweet job at a club as a DJ, and I'd missed the last bus. And this asshole attacked me in an alley. He was so fast. And the second he bit me, I felt drugged up to shit," Kanaya nods.
"A vampires venom changes to fit their intentions. Its chemical make-up responds to your emotions, but when you have the intention to kill, there is always a chance of survival through the method of transformation, and obviously if you are trying to turn someone. Though even if the transformation process manages to trigger itself, some people don't survive the change." You realise how fortunate you have been tonight.
"How does that even work?" Your brother asks, and you remain in thought as Kanaya answers.
"It's unstable and fluid make-up responds to your emotions and chemicals released from the brain, allowing it to change to what it does, by re-arranging it's particles to one of its set forms, so sometimes you get the wrong venom, It isn't the best feature of our species, if I'm honest." Apparently you look worried, because Kanaya gives you a reassuring smile.
"Don't worry, our most lethal venom is saved for only the most extreme situations. There has never, to my knowledge, been a time when a vampire with non-threatening intentions has killed someone by mistake. If you would like, I can give you my personal number, and I can explain in greater detail the world you have now joined, as there are certain customs you will need to know, and I can smuggle blood packs from the hospital until you can find a blood-partner, which I will explain, as I do for myself." From the look on her face, you can tell she feels bad about doing so, and you feel bad too, even though you haven't done such a thing, yet. But you decide it's probably for the best this way.
And so Bro gives Kanaya his and your number, and he says he'll give you the number when you get your phone back, saying that he was given all the belongings you had on you when you died, except for your clothes.
"Now, I will deal with the situation of your revival and send you any appropriate paperwork, I feel it best for you to adjust your new senses to your home environment, since they will be easy to overload, especially at this point. Goodnight Strider's, I hope to hear from you soon. Now, go, tell the people you care about you survived the night."
She leaves.
As she promised, she seems to have handled the situation. You and Bro aren't stopped when you sign out and leave. Nobody objects to your brother carrying you out the door because you couldn't even make it out of the morgue before collapsing. Your nose burns until you reach the night air, which is slightly easier to deal with, but your eyes are straining and you end up closing your eyes.
The sounds of the city are louder than usual and you frown, eyes still closed, as your brother slips on your shades. "I made sure I got these back when they told me you were dead. I was gonna keep 'em with me." His voice trembles a little. He thought you were dead. Your body trembling from weakness and the emotional and sensory overload you are on the brink of experiencing, you pity your brother more than yourself.
You try deep breathing, but the breathing itself does nothing for you, and it irks you. It's a disturbing feeling.
"Dude, for a dead guy you're breathing pretty heavily. Is everything okay?" Your brothers in the driver's seat now, putting the keys into the ignition.
"Yeah...it's these weird senses and the fact that breathing is weird and suddenly unnecessary." You tell him, and he nods.
"It's okay, we'll get you through this Bro, me and you, okay? Now, I told Rose, and she almost certainly told John and Jade that you were in the hospital, so expect either a cluster-fuck of phone calls or three teenagers sharing tea in our living room or whatever." You love your friends, but you aren't sure if you could deal with them tonight.
"Here." He reaches over you and opens the glove-box, inside is everything you had on your person tonight. He hands you your now cracked i-phone.
You would turn it on, but it died before you left the club. Your Bro hands you his portable charger from the glove box.
As soon as your phone is on and functioning, it goes of constantly. You set it down quickly, the vibrations feeling strange on your fingers.
56 messages and missed called from Jade, John and Rose.
You go through them, reading them as their worry increases, the closer to the present the messages are.
It goes off again, John has messaged you for the 20th time.
EB: Dave? We're seriously worried about you, for the love of all things answer us when you can.
TG: I just checked out.
EB: OH MY GOSH DAVE
EB: are you okay?!
TG: I guess yeah.
TG: I just want to sleep tbh. It's been a rough night.
EB: what happened? What was wrong? Are you alright now?
TG: I was attacked on the way home from work.
TG: I'll be okay in a bit. I just woke up.
EB: holy shit. Okay. Can I stop by tomorrow? With Rose and Jade of course.
TG: sure, I'll talk to Bro in the morning and give you guys a time.
You lock your phone and lean back against the seat. The drive home silent. Bro is still tense, and you are still weak. You wonder if it's because you haven't drank any blood, but you suppose if it was an immediate issue Kanaya would have addressed it.
You hear a chiming noise that you recognise as your Bro's text tone.
"My phones wedged in the cup-holder. What does it say?" You unjam the phone and shakily unlock it, Its Kanaya.
I Shall Pop Round Tomorrow With Some Blood And Instructions For Feeding, Is That Alright With The Two Of You?
You examine the odd way of typing for a second, and read the message aloud.
"I said John and Rose and Jade could come visit me tomorrow, so we'll have to get Kanaya in and out before they arrive, I didn't give them a time yet, so it's chill."
He hums and turns a corner, parking the car outside your apartment complex.
You shudder.
You cling to your brother as tightly as you can when he carries you inside. You don't really like being carried, but you feel it your only option. He lays you down on your bed, and you thank him. He lingers longer than necessary with a parental concern filling his features. It's almost like he's scared you're made of glass. You could shatter and cease to exist, or simply not wake up in the morning.
You sleep with your face stuck in a worried frown, and your shades on your face.
It's uncomfortable, but you can't bring yourself to take them off yet.
Yes, it isn't as good as what I usually do, but I wanna try using this style, practise right? Also, those who are waiting for Blissful Distraction to update, the next chapters on the way (if you aren't, I would recommend giving it a read.) But, here begins a new tale. With vampires, how typical of me. Do leave a review if you feel like it, and I hope you enjoyed!