Bloodlust

E I G H T

Vincent wasn't sure how much time had passed. He didn't know how long he'd been here. Diedrich had destroyed all methods of telling time. He boarded all windows. He removed all clocks. He put chains around Vincent's ankles to keep him from leaving the bedroom. He had enough space to reach the bathroom and that was it. Vincent wasn't allowed to wear clothes, but he could wrap himself in blankets or sheets. He didn't eat regular meals. All sense of appetite withered away. Plus, his chain didn't reach the kitchen.

In all honesty, he wanted to starve to death.

That was at least better than this.

Vincent refused to think of Adrian. He didn't want to feel the guilt of betrayal. Instead he just thought of how Ciel was doing. But, Vincent could only handle so much. He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. The reflection was one he didn't recognize. He looked so pitiful, barely even human. His face distorted and covered in bags. His body frail and just a pile of bones in every which direction. How long had it been? How long had he been forced to stay here?

No, it wasn't forced. Vincent came here all of his own free will. That's what made it all the more miserable. Vincent clutched his hair, wanting to pull it out, why was he like this? Was he a glutton for punishment? He could've said no at any time. There was the voice that told him it was a scam. But the possibility, the possibility, that's what made him go. It could've been 1%, 2%, even 5% of a chance that Ciel was in danger...his brain didn't care about the consequences.

"I'm so stupid," Vincent cried. He stared at the soap dispenser, easily breakable ceramic. He grabbed it. He smashed it. He took the sharpest edge off of the floor, he washed the soap off, and he held it in his hands. He stared at himself in the mirror.

"I don't want to exist anymore," he admitted, for the first time, out loud. "I don't...want to be here or anywhere. I want peace," he said. "I want peace," he repeated.

...

"Listen here, bastard, I want to know where Vincent is and I want to know now," Adrian pressed Diedrich's body up against the cold wall of the alleyway. He'd up and snatched the man out of the street. His eyes glowing with rage and his fangs longer than before. His nails, pressed up against Diedrich's throat, he wanted to kill a bitch and he would if he had to.

"What are you?" was the first thing Diedrich said.

"What do I look like?" Adrian wasn't up for playing games. He needed this information. It was crucial. Any more wasting time and he'd have to manipulate Diedrich's mind for it (something he hated doing, but he would if necessary).

"My address," Diedrich mumbled the words. He was too fascinated by the confirmation of vampires being real to care about much else. It was fun while it lasted. He felt no shame on that front.

Adrian pressed his palm against Diedrich's forehead. He erased his memory of Adrian, just to be safe. He also made sure that whenever Diedrich laid eyes upon Vincent, he would walk the other way out of fear. There would be an immense fear if he were to see Vincent again. That should be able to protect him.

Adrian knocked Diedrich out, stole some cash out of his wallet so the man would think it was just a half-assed burglary, and then flew to the destination he'd been searching two whole months for. Vincent's scent was getting fainter and fainter. It was hard to track without outside help. Adrian mentally cursed himself for not suspecting Diedrich sooner. Of all things, he should've known that much.

The door was locked but that was a simple thing to remedy. Adrian kicked it down in one fell swoop. He yelled for Vincent multiple times while searching left and right for him. A blood soaked carpet rested outside of the bedroom's bathroom door. Adrian's pulse quickened. He shook the doorknob, locked, of course it was locked. He called for Vincent, no response. Adrian tore the door off of its hinges and threw it behind him.

"Vincent?" his voice cracked.

"Vincent?!" he called again.

The body of the shadow of a man lay in a pool of its own blood. There was a cut too deep to be mended on his arm. "Vincent!" Adrian knelt down beside him and tried to stop the bleeding with his hands. Foolish, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself from trying. "It's going to be okay," he said. "It's all going to be fine," he promised. "I'm going to take you home and we can forget this all happened." Vincent's body was still warm. There was still hope. It looked like a lot of blood, sure, but that didn't mean it was. Vincent would have to bleed twice as much as the normal person in order to die. If Adrian had come a minute too late, then there would be issues.

Blood soaked Adrian's hands. He had to stop wasting time. This wasn't going to help him. This did barely a thing for him. He drew symbols with Vincent's blood along Vincent's body. Ancient runes with a forbidden talent for destruction. This was illegal, in the vampire community, but he had no choice. It was now or never. Live or die.

Adrian's hands rested on Vincent's chest. His eyes glowed and his hair defied gravity as he muttered the ancient chant for time reversal. He only had one option: to turn Vincent into a vampire, so he might as well restore him to a body that wasn't so frail and cursed if he was to be immortal.

The blood crept up from the carpet and back into Vincent's body as if the cut had never existed. The wound closed and time reversed ever still as if those months of captivity had never taken place. Adrian went back farther still. Ten years of life shaved off of Vincent. No more pain of experiments from Claudia. No more scars from Diedrich's poor doctor techniques. Vincent would remain as beautiful as he had been the first day he met Adrian for all of eternity. Whether he liked it or not.

Shaving ten plus years off of a human was a large task. Wounds formed along every inch of Adrian. On his face, on his arms, on his chest and body. Stitch-like markings bled. To take, you must give. To give, you must take. Vampires had always lived by this motto. One thing must be replaced by another. For each year of Vincent's life Adrian erased there was a wound. For each day in those years there was a tally on that wound.

Adrian's chant changed slightly as he adjusted the symbols. His eyes turned black and cried blood. It was all he could do to stay awake. There was a reason such things were forbidden. Not only were they dangerous for the human involved, they were dangerous for the vampire too.

Vincent's complexion was already pale in nature, but his skin became paler still. His nails turned black and grew a bit longer. Sharp fangs peeked out of his mouth. A small streak of silver appeared in his hair. A small streak of blue appeared in Adrian's. The two were forever connected, even if they should decide to part ways, there would be no forgetting this bond between them. This small patch of hair would always grow the different shade. No dye, no haircut, would ever be able to change that.

Adrian picked Vincent up (after smashing the chain) and struggled to exit out of this place. It took every ounce of his remaining energy to carry Vincent home. Once the two were finally there, he collapsed, just three steps after closing the door.