Love Bites

Chapter 18: My Dream

warnings: graphic violence, torture

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George rakes his eyes over Schlatt's blood covered suit and freezes.

"Who's..." He starts, throat feeling dry. "Who's blood is that?"

The brief consideration that it could be Sapnap's flashes through his mind. He thinks he might throw up, unable to keep the horrible image out of his head.

"Is that your main concern?" Schlatt tilts his head, a twisted grin appearing on his face.

George shakes himself back to focus, grunting as he tries to drag Dream to his feet, but the vampire struggles to stand. Schlatt approaches the two, pointing the gun at George's head. "Let go of him."

"Listen to him, George." Dream croaks. "Just let me go. It's okay."

George resists, only pulling his injured boyfriend closer. Dream shakes his head solemnly.

"I don't want to have to shoot you this early. Just drop him."

"No! Get away from us!"

Schlatt turns the barrel of the gun to Dream's temple. George's breath hitches.

"I said, drop him!" He raises his voice, shoving the front of the barrel against Dream's head. The vampire groans.

George falters, briefly considering trying to fight Schlatt, before realizing that would probably make things worse, letting go and stepping away with a shaky plea. "Just don't kill him, please..."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Schlatt says as if he didn't hear him, and grabs Dream's arm and yanks him away, leaving a streak of blood on the floor. George watches in horror as he treats the injured vampire as nothing more than a ragdoll. Dream fights to get away as best he can but fails to match Schlatt's surge of strength from fresh blood.

"Oh, what's this?" Schlatt quirks a brow, squinting. His gaze lands on the large puncture wounds in George's neck.

George clasps a hand over them in an attempt to hide it, but Schlatt's already seen it.

"I don't believe it!" Schlatt laughed incredulously, grabbing Dream's arm and twisting it unnaturally to pull him off his knees, making him whine. "You actually let him bite you! God, you must be desperate."

He steps back with the blond in his grasp, his leg wound soaks his dress pants in the crimson liquid.

He draws a silver blade from his suit pocket and holds it to Dream's throat, planting the gun in his belt.

George's eyes instantly widen, blood running cold.

"STOP! Don't hurt him!" George shoots his hand out. He hates the feeling of helplessness, unfiltered fear and dread filling his body.

"But Davidson," He tilts his head in false sympathy. "That ruins the fun."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" George sobs. "Where- Where is Sapnap? Did you hurt him?"

"You ask too many questions." Schlatt says flatly. "It's not what I want from you...it's what I want from him. You stopped being useful to me as soon as you got involved with him."

"What...?" George asks shakily.

"Killing the competition?" Schlatt says, like it's obvious. "You've been doing it for years."

"I..." George stammers. I've been helping him all this time without even knowing it.

"But once I get him on my side," Schlatt shakes Dream back and forth harshly for emphasis. "We'll have all the blood we could ever dream of."