A week went by fast and so it was time for the funeral. Vlad had paid for it, he couldn't let Maddie and Jack pay for it after what he had done. He had picked a cherrywood casket for the boy, but asked Maddie and Jack about it first. He watched the people gather around to lower the coffin. He stood far back, but could still see and hear. He felt so much guilt and hate, but this time the hate was at himself. How could he have hurt the boy so much that he wanted to end it all? Why didn't he just give up being the bad guy and helped Daniel? He just watched as Maddie fell to her knees and cried for her son, watched Jack struggle to not do the same. He knew he must have looked so odd, standing so far away with a empty look. He felt Daniel's friends look at him with hatred and he didn't blame them. He turned and walked away from it all, walking till he broke down on the sidewalk and gave a pained cry. He had caused them all so much pain by telling the boy about the flower. He stayed on his knees on the sidewalk for what felt like hours, but had only been 20 minutes. He eventually got up and went home, heading straight to the lab where he had collected a sample of blood blossoms so he could test them. He took the protected case up to his living room and grabbed a bottle of vodka. He chuckled bitterly and took the top off, drinking till it was half empty. He lazily looked over at the flowers and took the top off the case, wincing at the burning the scent gave him. Did Daniel really go through so much to die? He shook his head and gathered a few of the flowers up, nearly dropping them from the pain he felt. He swallowed and closed his eyes, bringing the flowers up to his mouth. The pain was unbearable, he dropped the bottle and clawed at his throat, choking on the deadly plant as it killed him.
Right after the funeral, Sam and Tucker raced to the older halfas house. They went to kick the door in when they noticed it wasn't even closed fully. They pushed inside with Sam yelling out "VLAD! WE KNOW YOU KILLED HIM!" She walked in more, heading through the living room to get to his lab when she stopped at the sight, covering her mouth as her eyes widen. Tucker turned and threw up on the floor. There in the armchair was Vlad Masters, dead. His neck covered in dried blood from him clawing at it, the vodka bottle broken by his feet, and the case of blood blossoms on the table next to him. And there, barely showing inside his mouth, was the same flower.
