"My Prince of The Night" PIKE!! South Park Fic!

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And as the dagger pushed deeper into the vampire boy's chest, he realized that love was cruel, uncaring. His breath stopped as he stared at his lover who'd only hours ago been proposing marriage to him. "I'm sorry." Pete whispered repeatedly, holding onto Mike so tight as if the second he let go would be the second his Vampire Boy would die.

"I'm so sorry." Pete whispered, allowing himself to release the dagger from the boy's flesh. "I'm so sorry." He whispered again, over and over again a repetitive string of words that continued spilling from Pete's mouth, every last sorry bringing more and more pain to the vampire's heart. "Mike, I'm so sorry."

Mike allowed himself to drop to the floor holding his chest, his lover, his fiancé, had stabbed him straight through the heart. Pete took a few steps back allowing the river he'd been holding in to fall.

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't... I don't..."

Pete stuttered out every last word he could, his mind racing. He didn't want this; he didn't like this. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. His first love, his only love, now dying to his touch. Just like everything before had.

Mike let out a few loud coughs before losing his grip and falling to the floor entirely. Pete just stood there like a fool and watched as his lover died.

"I'm sorry." He muttered again.

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Pete jolted awake in a cold sweat. Dude. He looked around his room for a moment. Did I really just have a dream about Mike Makowski. He thought to himself, running a hand through his messy dyed hair. He hadn't seen the boy in years besides quick hallway glances at his different outfits. He quickly swiped his phone off the charger and looked at the time. 3:23am the digital clock read, along with 8 messaged from Lanky Hoe, Terrorist, and ETTA<3 and several twitter notifications from God knows who. Pete sighed and clicked the notification from Henrietta, whom he deemed as ETTA<3 in his phone, the mom friend of their group. 'Dude Michael like his hardcore crushing on this conformist Raisins girl'. Was what he read, he allowed himself to let out a light chuckle and sent a thumbs up emoji, turning his attention to Firkle, who'd he had titled Terrorist in his phone since Firkle kind of was one.

'I blew up your cat.' was the first text message, sent along with a gif of someone being blown up, kind of proved Pete's whole nickname thing. 'Smoke alarm check?' was the second message which was followed up with a video of Firkle walking through his smoke-filled room from God knows what, probably another one of his failed science experiments. Pete simply sent a skull emoji and moved onto Michael, who he had of course named Lanky Hoe in his phone. Michael sent his messages in bulk so that always left Pete with a lot of skimming through to do. 'OK PETE – I LIKE THIS GIRL – RAISINS GIRL – SHE'S CUTE – HOW DO I ASK HER OUT' was what Pete read, deciding to skip the unimportant lovey dovey parts. 'I'D ASK THE OTHERS – THEY DON'T KNOW ABT LOVE – YOU WRITE ROMANTIC POETRY – HELP A GUY OUT!!!!' Were the other messages he'd skim through. He put his phone down, deciding that it's better to save that conversation for the village inn.

Pete let out a loud sigh as he got up, the entirety of his dream coming back to him. What even was that, WHY was that. He hadn't talked to let alone looked at Mike in years. He purposefully switched all his classes so he wouldn't have a single class with Mike and he barely ever saw him in school since he didn't even actually attend the classes anyways, so why did he have that dream. A stupid dream about Mike of all people! The stupid Vampire Boy had been his arch nemesis since 3rd grade, maybe even 2nd! his conformity and commitment to being a vampire had always been overly annoying to Pete. He'd always wear those stupid plastic fangs wherever he went, and it was so rare to see him without them that some kid had dedicated a whole Instagram to pictures of him without the fangs. In fact, in 4th grade he and Michael had made a bet that Mike slept in them, neither of them ever won though seeing as they never got any proof. Mike "Vampir" Makowski. Even his name was annoying!

He allowed himself to dwell on the dream as he quickly put on his usual outfit, just his button up and jeans along with his pendant he had for years on end now. He sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror, attempting to fiddle with his hair and make it look somewhat normal since his father would never allow him to grow it out. Once he was finished with that, he walked across the cold squeaky trailer floor, trying to make his steps even just a tiny bit quieter. But of course, it never would happen. He slumped down onto the floor next to the door and slipped on his shoes, taking a minute to mess with the buckles. He quickly got up and set off for the village inn, ignoring his dad's tired comments questioning why his "Fag son" was going out so late.

Pete walked along the tree line, his breath visible in the cold Colorado air. That dream. It was so, odd? Mike Makowski, Mike freaking Makowski of all people! He could've had a dream about Sophie Grey or Michael, but Mike Makowski?! Pete sighed, feeling pathetic and grossed out since he just had a nice sad romantic dream about his arch nemesis. He made his way to the sidewalk finally since the tree line was quickly thickening into forest. He picked off a leaf from one of the trees and began messing with it and tearing it apart as he did. "Oh dude, dude come here, look at what Annie posted!" Pete overheard conversations quite often and he enjoyed hearing the drama, but this time this conversation was one he desperately wanted to avoid. He wished he were a turtle so he could just slink into his shell as a certain green haired boy came into his view along with a bleach blonde girl. "She looks hot! Oh my god! She's so lucky!!" The girl fawned, taking the taller boy's phone.

"God we better get to that party right now!! Come on vampir!" The girl took Mike's hand, giving him a big fat smile as if she was a kid who just got candy. "Party?" Pete asked, not meaning to say it out loud which earned a quick turnaround from Mike and Blood Rayne, so they were now facing the red head. "Sorry." Pete monotonously spoke, hiding any and every emotion he'd ever want to express especially considering he was face to face with a man he was having a dream about. A very sad, sappy, romantic dream. "Oh uhm, yeah. It's just a party at Clyde's..." Mike spoke, lisped as always due to the sharp fangs in his mouth which Pete took note were no longer those cheap plastic ones. Blood Rayne stared Pete down as he placed his hands in his pockets slowly. "Cool." Pete's nervousness, though trying to hide it, was extremely clear in the singular word his spoke as he stared at the ground.

"Yep. Cool." Mike repeated mirroring Pete's pose and placing his hands in his pockets as well. "Right uhm, well! Mikey! We have to go, can't keep leaving all those hot babes alone!!" Blood Rayne excitedly spoke as she began to drag Mike along with her, leaving Pete to sit there in the dark night.