Septiplier One Shots

The One That Changed Everything

A/N: This one is a little supernaturally so if you don't like that stuff... Be on your way...

(Mark's P.O.V.)

It was three years ago today my entire life changed. And in those three years I've changed 38 other lives, of other people. Trust me, I wouldn't have if I had a choice. But I didn't. I never do. Every full moon, I know, it sounds stupid. Like a crappy vampire novel. But it's true. It's my life. And has been since that stupid girl got to me three years ago. 

I was walking home, kind of tipsy, half asleep. I didn't really understand or comprehend my surroundings. I remember her though. I remember her like it was tomorrow. I never learned her name, which bothers me so much. But she was gorgeous. And that's saying something considering I am gay off the charts.

Her hair was a midnight black that shimmered in the moonlight. Her skin was pale, milky white. Her eyes were dark, and yet the stars that shone in them didn't compare to the ones in the sky. Her lips were a deep red, her cheeks dusted pink. She wore a cute little dress, nothing more then a casual sundress even though it was nearly midnight. She was a good three inches shorter than me, maybe more.

We talked for a bit after I ran into her, and after seeing my condition she offered to walk with me the rest of the way to my house. In my state, I agreed. We walked. We talked. And then she pushed me into the alleyway. Her eyes glowed red and she didn't hesitate to sink her teeth into my neck. I passed out immediately, and woke up a couple hours later to find that she was gone and I was different.

A vampire. A mythical being that doesn't exist. That's what I am. And I'm pretty sure I exist. So now every full moon I'm forced to choose a victim and change their lives forever. If I don't my craving for human blood gets to strong. Often times it's just a random person off the street, someone I won't care about after, as terrible as that sounds. This is my 39th full moon, and my 39th victim. Three years. Why not make it special?

(Seán's P.O.V.)

I sigh, putting the glass back down on the counter. The bar is loud with the sports game going on the TVs, and the chatter and cheers of people. I motion for the bartender to fill my glass once more. I'm not here to get drunk or anything. I'm just here to have a drink or two, then go home and go to sleep. The bartender comes over and fills my glass back up with beer, which I gladly take.

I take a sip, sighing as I put the glass back down. Life's okay, except for the fact that work sucks and I'm barely making enough to live. That's why I'm here. Just to... Distract myself. I don't have much, but I got a tab so I'll just put it on that. I hear a chuckle and I glance over at the person who sits next to me. 

"Hey, how about a beer?" He asks, his voice deep, smooth and loud even over all the commotion. The bartender quickly gets him the drink and he takes a sip. I keep looking at him, studying him. His skin is tanned and his hair is a raven black with red dyed on top. His eyes are chocolate brown... And he looks sad. 

He looks over and catches me looking at him. "Hey yourself." He says. I chuckle.

"You okay there?" I ask. "Couldn't help but notice you look a bit down." I say. His eyes widen and he chuckles.

"Whoa." He says. I raise an eyebrow. He shakes his head a bit, looking at me. "Your accent. I wasn't expecting that. I like it. Irish?" He asks and I nod, happy someone got it right for once. 

"Yeah, but I've been in America for a while now." I say. He tilts his head to the side.

"How long is a while?" 

"A while." He laughs at my answer and I can't help but laugh with him, it's contagious. 

"Well, that's fair. My name's Mark." He says. I extend my hand, letting him shake it.