A/N (warning, longest A/N ever.)

Son of a bitch, all I can do when I want to study is come up with fucking story ideas. Fucking weak. Anyway, here's another fucked up idea while I leave my 3 other stories hanging which are still in development for kick ass endings. (or at least decent.)

ANYWAY this is a fucked up story that intertwines the supernatural and Craig who wants nothing to do with it. Honestly, that's what I'm basing this entire plot line around.

…Jesus Christ I need better ideas.

I don't know where this is going, but I sure hope it's good.

Disclaimer: I don't fucking own anything but these words. I don't own South Park, or any products/ stores mentioned. I don't own Craig, or his guinea pig. I don't own any vampire story or legend ever made. I hope all of these ideas are uniquely created and delivered. There is no intention to steal anyone's plot line. But there are only so many differences that can be mentioned. Except Twilight, which went in the VERY wrong direction.

Before we begin, I've never watched Buffy, and only a moment of True Blood. I hate Twilight. I love Rice's first few books and the movies (except for Tom Cruise), but none of this is based off her stuff. Yadda yadda I've come to my own conclusions, here they are.

If you guys like this shit, even one person, I will continue.

…ON TO THE STORY. Enjoy?

CRESTFALLEN WOE

I

Welcome to the End

(Of My Boring Life)

"I'M out." I say to my black friend and my fat friend as I tug on my blue coat.

"Leavin' early? That's not like you, dude." Clyde Donovan snorts out between inhalements of his deluxe pizza.

The chubby-esque brunette has been stuffing his face with food all night. He and Bebe Stevens, a blonde bimbo bitch, broke up today. He needed some comfort and he found it in food, as always. Okay, she's not that much of a bimbo, or a bitch, but I just hate chicks anyway. They suck. People suck.

I glance back to the television we've been watching for the past five hours. Token Black had invited me to his place with Clyde for a stay-over. No, not a sleepover, fifteen-year-old boys have stay-over's. We're not tween chicks, for fuck's sake. When I glance to the television there's a quick commercial about the news tonight. I've been seeing the commercial all night for the news at eleven.

"Sudden unexplained deaths all around the small mountain town of South Park have been occurring for the past month, and numbers are rising! All the victims were reported to have been walking alone at night. Pedestrians are urged to be extremely careful!" The midget in a bikini explains as a snowstorm warning rolls across the bottom of the screen. This is the first exciting thing to happen in this town for a while, to be honest. I think that's why I've noticed it every time it has played.

"Ou, better be careful, Craig! Do you want some big boys to walk you home?" Clyde mocks, but he just sounds like he's whining. I wish Tweek were here. My only real friend would have made this night so much better. Maybe if he was here, and I wasn't just chillin' with these two boneheads, I would stay. I flip the two off before grabbing my mitts and scarf to leave.

THE frozen water pellets hit my face like a flock of black flies hitting my eyes as I trek home. I wish my house weren't so fucking far from that mansion. Everything around me might as well be complete darkness except for these fucking snowflakes. The barley visible streetlights barley help me guide my way home. I'm cold. Right down to my toes and my nut sack, I'm fucking frozen solid.

The first car I've seen in about twenty minutes drives by me, slowly. The roads are shit right now. As the car lights illuminate the street, I notice something strange. Well, I've seen a lot of strange things in my life, but for this moment this is very out of the ordinary. There is a man across the street. He's in a long-sleeved v-neck shirt, and jeans. That's it. I'm freezing my ass off in a snowsuit and a chullo, and he's hardly wearing anything. For the record, snowsuits in this town aren't stupid to wear when you're a teenager. If you're not wearing one at the beginning of January here, you're a fucking moron, like that guy. I continue home with my hands buried deep in my pockets.

A few blocks later another car goes by and I glance across the street. No way. No fucking way he's there again. The hell is going on here? Whatever. I continue on my path home. These snowflakes are fucking stinging my eyes so bad right now. I use my wet glove to rub my eyes and dripping nose, while I keep walking.

"Oumf!" The noise escapes my throat after I bump into something. I loose my balance and stumble back. When I look up I see none other than that man who was across the street. We're in between two streetlights, so I can't see his facial features. All I know is he must be over six feet tall. I'm 5'10". I'm tall, but I'm not that fucking tall.

"The fuck do you want?" I ask the man as I flip him off.

The man remains silent. Well that's a piss off. He takes a step closer, but I stand in place. I'm not gonna let this creep scare me. I'm not afraid of anything. Why should I be? We're all going to die one day, and that's the ultimate basis of every phobia. The only person I'd leave behind, ultimately, would be Tweek. I'm all he's really got.

The man smirks. Alright, a smirk wouldn't usually freak me out, but this is no regular fucking smirk. The smirk is devilish. The rest of the man is as black as the night around him, but those teeth. They're big, white, and… sharp. My legs fall numb. I can't move. Why can't I move? He moves forward again slowly with confidence. Once we're within a foot away from each other, his hand reaches out to my shoulder. I shrug the black gloved hand away as I break my trance from his mouth.

"Get the fuck away from me, asshole." Without much thought, I punch the man in the face. His head jerks slightly, but he appears stoic to my outburst. Okay, I think I just pissed my pants.

I'm scared now.

The man closes the space between us. His cold and wet leather glove cup's my chin as his other arm wraps around my body. Um, rape? Great, I'm going to get raped. Dammit, Tucker, you should have just stayed with your friends instead of being an anti-social loner. All of a sudden, as if it were planned or something, all of the streetlights shut off. I guess there's a power outage. Great. I can't move, I can't see, for some reason I can't even scream, and I'm going to get raped on the street. It feels like there's a small towel lodged in my throat and I'm about to lose the only innocence I had left.

The man's hand moves from my chin to unzip my jacket. It's so cold out. Fuck, I'm going to freeze to death on the street. Just perfect. He guides my limp, willing body to the ground. I feel like a rag doll that four-year-old would play with. He removes my blue coat and places it on the snow covered ground. His hands lift my shirt up over my head and off of my arms. I can feel my breath quickening as I shiver furiously. With one hand supporting my back, his other moves to my shoulder to keep me stable, and he leans forward. When I expect a nip or something perverted like that, I receive something I'd never expect in a thousand years, especially since I'm a skeptic of anything strange like this. Two sharp edges pierce my chest. Right below my collar bone the man begins to suck. To my surprise, I struggle and moan slightly. His grip on my shoulder tightens to keep me still, but I won't. I can hear my heart beating faster, the sound is pounding in my head like a native drum or something. My struggle becomes more determined as the man grips me harder. I can hear my heartbeat rage as it pounds throughout ever inch of my body. The man pulls away, irked at my retaliation. I use what little force I have to push his shoulder away. The blood is spilling from my open wound, but I don't care. He tries to grab me again.

"I want to live!" I shout through my teeth as I push him away again.

His smirk returns, as if to say 'Is that so?'. The man suddenly flips me over onto my back and pins me to the ground. He bites his own wrist before forcing his blood into my mouth. This is fucked up right here. What the hell kind of fetish is this! He holds my nose shut, forcing me to swallow. The hell? This doesn't even taste like blood! Alright, we've all had those cuts as a kid that we wanted to clean up, but didn't have any water nearby. Blood is metallic and bittersweet, this blood is almost sour tasting.

Once I've swallowed the man rolls off of me to let me go. I grab my shirt, and then I use whatever strength I have and stumble away from the man as fast as I possibly can. The night is so dark I have no fucking idea where I'm going. I hope I'm headed home. Out of nowhere, or what could have very well been nowhere in my state, two car lights invade my vision, which is blurred as shit right. I dive out of the way on to the slush covered street. I need to keep going. I need help. The taillights of the car illuminate a street sign above me as I'm looking around. The sign reads 'Queens' as far as I can tell. I don't think any other words look like 'Queens', or this is just wishful thinking. This is the street Tweak residence is located. Only, like, six houses down.

I force myself to move from this spot on the corner to my friends house. My legs feel like a ton each and my heart is pounding so loud in my head right now, fuck. My chest is burning, too. Four… Five… Six. Thank fuck I'm finally here, beside what used to be the 'Tweak Bros.' coffee shop, not that it matters right now. I drag myself up the steps to his door and halfheartedly ring the bell.

" W-who is it!" A moment later I hear a strained voice yell from the other side of the wooden barrier.

"Tweek, I need help." Is all I can reply with. I'm so weak right now.

"Craig!" He shouts. I hear a series of locks unlatch.

"Can I come in?" I ask the blond who is staring at me completely dumbfounded that I'm shirtless, bloody, disoriented, and leaning on his doorframe like my life depends on it, which it kind of does right now, but still asking for a fucking invitation to enter.

"Gah! Of course you can! What the hell happened to you!" When I step, I fall into the smaller boy, who can just barley hold me up.

He's about the same height, but he's frail. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you, Tweek.

"I don't know what happened… Are your parents home?" My words are slurred. I'm in so much pain right now.

"Th-they're at the Marsh's for their Th-thursday night book club m-meeting!" His shivering body attempts to help me stand, but the attempts are useless. He slowly drops me to the floor so he can shut the door to keep out the cold.

Tweek drags me to and up the stairs to his room on the second floor. I guess he's stronger than I thought. He leads me to his bed, mumbling and shaking the whole way.

"Gah! W-what do you w-want me to do! Th-this is so much pressure! Y-you were bit my some animal and –Gah! I don't know what to do, man!" His face is blurry as I rock back and forth slightly.

Suddenly the pain hits me after sitting for a moment. I fall back on his bed and curl up in a ball. My screams are terrifying, even to me. I have no control over my body right now. My head hurts like a motherfucker and my heart is on fire. My stomach feels like it's going to explode. I jump from Tweek's bed and snatch his trash bin to throw up in. I think I'm legitimately puking my guts out right now. Oh, and Tweek is freaking the fuck out.

"Ah! Jesus Christ, man! Don't d-die on me, Craig!" Tweek grabs my shoulders after about a minute of me making friends with this pale. I sit back on the bed and look up to him. As soon as I look at his face, which is full of tears and fear, my eyes roll back and I pass out on his bed.

I'M ripped from my sleep when I feel a sharp pain from my ankle. I stumble awake and pull my ankle close to nurse the pain.

"Ahh! W-what's wrong!" Tweek jumps up from hearing me cry out in agony.

"Fuck that hurt!" I shout between my teeth. I don't like to bring attention to myself when I have to scream.

"Gah! Craig, w-what's wrong!" Tweek moves onto the bed close to me. He must have been sleeping on the floor all night. When I move my leg to make room for the skinny teen, my toes suddenly begin to sting as well. I look up and realize it's the small patches of light from behind the cheap cover of Tweek's window that are hurting me. I curl up in the corner at the top of my friends bed and pull my legs together and away from the rays of sunlight.

"Fuck, cover your window, Tweek!" I shout angrily to the blond. He moves his scared little ass quickly to obey me. Why are you being cross with him, Tucker? He's being so good to you!

"Gah! I don't know what to do!" He scrambles around the room as I shield my eyes from the light.

Finally, he rips apart a box and places it up against the window, along with posters and a few pillows to make the room free of any natural light. The pain of my ankle and toes has subsided to a light sting and I finally open my eyes to see the room around me.

Woah.

Everything looks really… Different…

"Craig, are you okay?" Tweek scurries back to his bed to sit near me again.

Within our group of friends, Tweek appears to have a personal space issue. Especially with me. I think it's just because he trusts us, and this is his way of showing it. It's funny, because he never even goes close to his parents like this.

Tweek sits so close to me, the side of his legs is pressing against me. When I look at his face I realize time is standing still. Well, it feels like there is no time. Just him, and I. His pale face is glowing and the dark bags under his eyes are more predominant than I've ever seen them. His green eyes aren't just olive shaded and dark anymore. They're as bright as the bottom dot on a set of stoplights. They light up his face from under fallen strands of blond hair. No, not just blond. Every strand of hair ranging from platinum to chocolate brown are evident, every strand important in the make up of the unruly mess of hair atop his pale, glowing face. And his lips are entrancing. Cracked, but alive. Air slowly passes through them for what could be forever before a shiver up his spine breaks me of his trance.

"W-what are you doing?" His high voice breaks my concentration.

I hadn't realized I was holding him until now. His voice makes me aware of every single noise around me. His voice alone seems to have separated into different sound. The scratch at the back of his throat, mixed with the whistling between his teeth, and his tongue hitting his gums. The sound comes out as a hoarse whisper mixed with a squeal, nervous jitters, and something that is simply his own. The other sounds around me, including the furnace, the coffee dripping downstairs, the fan left on in the bathroom, all become obsolete to the sound of the blood pumping through Tweek's veins against my leg to his beating heart.

"You're beautiful." I mumble so light I'm surprised Tweek reacts.

"W-what?" Tweek's eyes grow a size wider.

"Where am I?" I look around as I continue to hold the warm blond. He's so warm.

"M-my house, Craig, you're freezing!" He blurts out in a single sentence. His t-shirt clad arm brushed against mine, which is wrapped around him. I want his warmth.

"I'm cold." I say simply.

I'm hungry, too. I'm weak, cold, and hungry. I press myself closer to Tweek's warmth. I rest my ear against his heart and close all space between us. His heartbeat is enchanting. The rate at which it changes pace is dangerous, yet so inviting all the same. He places his hands upon my bare back and flinches.

"Y-you're ice cold, Craig! You need a blanket or c-coffee or something!" He tries to pull away.

"I only need you." I mumble into his black nightshirt and tighten my grip around him.

"Craig, y-your hurting me! Ergh!" I release him and sit up, only to wrap my arms around him once more and lay him of the bed.

"Craig, you don't look very good!" His shivers relax me.

Our faces are both against the bed looking at each other. I love his eyes. They're so bright. They look like they're alive.

"You do." I respond simply.

"Craig, you're hurting me! Let go! Y-you're not listening to me!" I'm hurting him?

I quickly release the blond and we both sit up. His hand connects my face harshly, though I feel no pain at all, like it didn't even happen.

"What is r-wrong with you! The bags under your eyes are w-worse than mine and you're making no fucking sense!"

He's right. I'm not making any sense at all. What the fuck is wrong with you? Get a hold of yourself, Tucker! You're Craig Tucker, child of Thomas and Miranda Tucker. You have a sister named Ruby, and a beloved guinea pig named Stripes. You attend Park County High where you have a 77% average. You are average. Everything about you is average and boring, just the way you like it. So, why do I need to remind myself all of these things? And why does it feel like I'm lying to myself somehow?

"W-what happened to you l-last night, man?" I look back up to Tweek's glowing green eyes and realize…

"I have no fucking clue."

A/N it would mean the world to me if someone reviewed this.