Our Dwindling Night (A Vampire Gerard/Frerard Fanfiction)

Prologue

"It was a lie when they smiled and said "You won't feel a thing"

The apartment was silent besides the soft dripping of a tap. It was a small basement room, normal except for the lack of  natural light. The sickly glow of a naked blub lit the messy living space, jumbled blankets and dirty dishes strewn over the floor. A singular window,  located above the doorway was smothered in black gaffer tape and covered in a black cloth, but slightly open- affording the stuffy room a light breeze.

Gerard opened his eyes slowly, and stared quietly at the ceiling. Sighing, he hauled his aching body upright and pulled open the heavy curtains that hung from the ceiling around his bed, shielding it from the glow of the living room bulb. Scanning the room as he sat, his eyes paused a while over photos that sat on a shelf. Snapshots of himself and his brother at the beach, the bright summer sun reflecting off the water, the two small boys silhouetted to the camera, accompanied by a small metal trophy and a baseball. Memories of a time long past, a different life. Stumbling into the bathroom and pulling the chord for the tube light above the sink, he regarded himself in the mirror. Skinny body, round face, eyes shadowed by thick dark circles, long black hair forming a shocking contrast to his pale skin, washed out like a bed sheet soaked in bleach, he quickly looked away in disgust. Stepping into the shower, he rubbed his face as the lukewarm water ran into his eyes- trying his best not to slip in the dim light. When done, he rubbed his head with a towel, trying to remove most of the water and didn't bother combing or arranging his hair at all, leaving it to curl slightly around his ears. Shrugging on his uniform, a white shirt, grey tie, black suit trousers and a smart matching jacket with an oval logo on the front and stating  SECURITY in white, he grabbed a coffee and left his dingy room.

It was about 10pm, the sky dark and starless. Gerard made his out of his apartment complex, up the stairs from the basement and though a skinny alleyway that smelt strongly of urine and tobacco smoke.  Walking along the pavement, strewn with litter- the whitewashed walls scrawled with graffiti, he finally made it to the bus stop, which thankfully was empty. Gerard hated other people, their noise, their mess, and most of all their happiness with life. The one thing he wished for most was to be like them, to have friends, at least one, who he could confide in- a shoulder to lean on in his dark world. The bus arrived and he boarded, showing the driver his pass and sitting at the back, rubbing his temples attempting to stave off a brooding headache. There were only a few other passengers, a youth in a hoodie, a road workman in a high-visibility jacket and a few other nameless, faceless commuters. The night bus into town was a ride for lost souls who roam the shadows, hoping for a brighter life in the city. They were in fact bound of a form of polluted hell.

Reaching his stop and jumping off, Gerard walked to his building. A large block of offices, harshly lit by fluorescent lights. Doing his normal round, Gerard strode quickly around the ground floor, checking that all the doors were locked. Satisfied, he assumed his position at the lobby desk and looked around unhappily. The lobby was unwelcoming and cold, the floor made of polished marble, the walls grey and at some points covered in decorative sheets of steel. The only colour was provided by a wilted fern in the corner, overshadowed by the floor to ceiling windows that looked out into blackness. Rubbing his head and grimacing in pain, Gerard squinted at the computer screen in front of him, contemplating what he could search to pass the time. His thoughts were interrupted by the whir of the floor polisher as the cleaner rounded the corner. He was a middle aged man, balding,dressed in black trousers and a muted green shirt. He concentrated on his job, moving the polisher back and forth along the hard floor.

Gerard looked back to his computer screen, once again staring at the blinking curser in the search bar. He was suddenly struck by a strange feeling, unlike anything he had felt before, a compulsion to get up and go over to the cleaner. Frowning, unable to understand why he would want to talk to the man, Gerard stood up. Staggering slightly, he swallowed hard as his movement invoked a wave of nausea and dizziness. Using the desk as a crutch, he inched forward, as he got closer he noticed a small plaster on the side of the mans face, covering a nick made during shaving. Gerard thought he ought to be disgusted by the plaster, it was peeling off the mans grey stubbly face, the middle dark with dried blood, but strangely... it held his attention. Letting go of the  desk and steading himself despite the world still seeming to spin, Gerard slowly made his way towards the cleaner.  The man finally noticed Gerard, and turned the polisher off, the whir dying down to expose an eerie silence.

Gerard was fascinated by the plaster and the wound underneath, unable to tear his eyes away, as if he had been hypnotised. His mouth was dry and his face vacant, expressionless. The cleaner smiled and stared to talk to him, speech punctuated by a laugh. Gerard couldn't hear what the man was saying, hearing only a mumble, his whole world seemed to be squeezing shut, focused only on the dirty plaster stuck to the mans face.  His headache screamed in sharp barbs and he suddenly became horribly aware of his own breathing- which was fast and ragged. His heartbeat got louder and louder in his ears. Too loud. Too fast. The world spun frantically, Gerard clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking. Though the cacophony in his mind, he just about head the cleaner speak again, voice pitched in concern, before the noise reached a crescendo, he felt himself begin to fall...and the world went dark.