Our Dwindling Night (A Vampire Gerard/Frerard Fanfiction)

Chapter Five

"Blood, Blood, gallons of the stuff" 

His body was ablaze with agony, this irresistible need  for sustenance. Gerard's throat felt as if someone had set it alight, his eyes watered and his hands shook uncontrollably. He needed it fast, he needed it now. Frank, the kiss, the nosebleed, were completely forgotten as Gerard ran, hunched over and clutching his stomach to the butchers shop he had visited the previous week. His normally reserved, shy nature was gone, replaced with the urge to do anything to get what he required. Half shouting, he managed to get a dozen large polystyrene cups of fresh animal blood, still warm and fire truck red in colour. Not bothering to go all the way back to his apartment, he found an alleyway deep enough to shield him from the dull light of street lamps and the wandering eyes of pedestrians. It stunk of urine and was covered in black slime and old chewing gum, Gerard didn't care anymore, anything to stop these awful feelings. Unwrapping a cup from its blue plastic, he took it shakily in two hands and put it to his lips.

Taking deep gulps of the crimson liquid, his thirst for it only grew stronger. As if glued to the cup, he drank heavily without breathing, his body jerking every now and again in uncontrolled euphoria. Draining cup after cup of putrefying animal blood, Gerard was soon surrounded by a sea of rubbish, stained a violent shade of red. Leaning back, one hand on his forehead, mouth open and dripping, he was lost in the metallic taste coating his mouth. His other hand felt tentatively on his stomach, awaiting the spasm of pain that was sure to come- only this time it was absent, instead replaced by a wonderful feeling of strength. He smiled to himself, teeth stained a grisly scarlet and then suddenly frowned. What had he just done? This was insane, this was stupid, reckless, what had he been thinking?  Swearing colourfully under his breath, Gerard heaved himself off the grimy pavement and leaned on the wall for support.

Panting, he walked along the street, lit orange by flickering lamps. Usually, at this hour, the small residential town was deserted, but that night another  wanderer was out strolling. Gerard slowed as the woman approached him, moving to the side of the pavement do she could pass unheeded. She was dressed in business wear, a smart black jacket and matching pencil skirt, complemented by a searing red handbag, clutched tightly in her right hand. She smiled uncertainly at Gerard as she passed, unsettled by his interest in her bag. He was transfixed by its glaring colour, following it with his eyes as she disappeared around the corner of the road.  He rubbed his temples, trying to comfort the headache that was just beginning to growl, the cherry of the woman's handbag reminded him of what he had done and it sickened him. The brief rush of energy he had felt after his drink was already fading and Gerard felt a heavy fatigue begin to cloud his senses, he had to make it back to his apartment.

He sprinted at the woman, legs strong- moving  towards her around the corner with frightening velocity. She turned around, eyes wide in alarm and when she saw the man, and let out an ear splitting scream, its piercing  note echoing around the darkened houses. He tackled her, propelling her to the ground  and gagging her in one swift movement, then pushed back her head violently to expose the soft skin of her neck. She writhed under him, trying desperately to escape, but her efforts where futile and she flopped like a fish, caught on a line. He threw his head forward, the force helping his abnormally long canines to pierce the woman's flesh, rupturing a major artery. Her struggles suddenly became weaker and eventually stopped completely as the man created a seal around the wound with his lips, drinking her life force as it pumped straight to the back of his throat. His body shook with pleasure as he drank the woman dry, pausing only once to tuck a long strand of black hair behind his ear.

Gerard woke up in his apartment, aching and covered in dark brown stains. He didn't remember letting himself in and had no idea what time it was. Relaxing back into the cushions of his sofa he recollected the events of the previous night. Frank. The blood. Grimacing  violently, he suddenly felt heat rising in the back of his throat and made a dash for the toilet. He made it just in time to vomit violently, gagging, coughing and spitting multiple times. Stumbling backward against the wall, he sat down and stared shocked at what he had expelled. The white porcelain was streaked with bright scarlet going down to the U-bend which appeared black with the volume of blood. Wiping his mouth, he whimpered slightly, afraid and alone in this nightmare. Frank would never want him if he knew of what he had done, who he was.

He knew what was wrong instinctively. Gerard knew that it wasn't food poisoning, a bad stomach or perhaps not even a strange type of anaemia.  He needed blood. He needed it if he was to survive, that he understood. But from this he had learned an awful lesson. Just any blood wasn't good enough. And remembering the hatefully delicious taste of Frank's nosebleed on his lips, Gerard finally concluded, sitting on the cold bathroom tiles opposite his toilet streaked with regurgitated crimson, that it was human blood that took away the cravings. He needed human blood to survive.

And he knew just where he could get some.