Ziam oneshots ✔️

Forever and beyond

Liam didn't believe in vampires. He just didn't. Vampires were a folk tale, a fanciful story to scare people in the night. And the science made no sense—there was simply no way for people to become immortal, or to get any sort of nutritional value from blood. And to morph into a completely different species after being bitten? It was ridiculous.

All of these sentiments were all only strengthened as he sat in a pub and listened to a so-called vampire hunter describing how it had killed its prey—garlic and a stake through the heart. Liam had hoped for peace and quiet tonight. Peace and quiet never seemed to like him.

The conversation inside the pub was getting overwhelming, much too loud. No, Liam couldn't stand to hear any more, so he paid the bartender and staggered outside, breathing in the fresh air as he walked down the street.

Liam was drunk, far drunker than he should have been. He didn't realize the full gravity of where he was, didn't register the people that slowly surrounded him until it was too late.

"Hello there, mate," one of the men said. "And where are you off to on this fine night?"

Shit. Dread spilled into Liam, into every inch of him. He stuttered out an answer about heading home, tried to sound more sober than he was, but he could tell they weren't unconvinced. Getting drunk, in a shady area of town, in the middle of the night. Stupid, Liam chided himself.

"Home?" the man asked, chuckling a laugh that didn't have an ounce of humor in it. "Well, I'm afraid there's a bit of a complication in that." He stepped closer, and Liam could see that he was holding a knife, glinting fiercely in the light of the moon. "You see," the man continued, smiling coldly, "I know you're a doctor and I know you have money—lots of it. And me? I want that money."

"Ah," Liam replied impulsively. He took a step back, but another person was behind him. Shit.

"So I'd suggest you do what we say," the man went on, "Or your pretty face won't be so pretty after I've become acquainted with it."

Liam tried to think of something, tried to consider what money he had on him- not enough to please them, surely.

"Alright, alright, there's no need-" he started.

"Shut up!" the man hissed, pressing the knife against Liam's throat. Liam swallowed hard, the movement brushing against the cold metal of the blade. He tried to think of a response, breathing heavily. And, as humans naturally do, he blinked. Normally, the fact that he had blinked wouldn't have been important, but in this scenario, it was crucial—for in the second he had closed his eyes, the man in front of him had vanished. The knife was now clattering to the ground in front of Liam.

What? Liam thought, trying to figure out if he was drunk enough to hallucinate. He closed his eyes hard, then opened them. Nothing. The man was still gone. He turned around to look for the others, but they had vanished too. The street was empty.

"Fuck," Liam muttered. He really had to stop drinking, if this sort of thing was the turnout. He took a moment, glancing back and forth from the knife to the empty street. Wait a moment, he thought, if it had been a hallucination, how was the knife still on the ground?

He picked it up, running his finger over the blade. It drew a bit of blood, stung. It was very much real.

"What the fuck?" he muttered, drawing a hand over his face.

"You know, you really shouldn't be intoxicated in areas like this. Might get you into trouble one day," a voice called. Liam looked up to see a boy standing against the wall, a teasing smile prominent on his lips. Liam was absolutely certain that he had not been there the moment before, and he jolted, backing away.