Sixteen Candles Hunter's Agency FOB AU

pt. 169

Pete jolted awake. There was no warehouse. No blood being sucked. No dying. Instead, relief swept over him as he saw the familiar face of Patrick kneeled over him. Joe was frantically scrolling through something on his laptop, while Andy paced back and forth worriedly.

Pete groggily sat up and yawned. As he took in the scene before him, he asked, "What's got you all so worked up?" As he came to, he couldn't help noticing how dry his throat felt. 

Patrick was shaky, his words tripping over themselves as he tried to calm his nerves. "I- I don't know! W-We got an alert of-of a fight happening a few blocks away, but and then, and then when Andy went to wake you, there was.. this-this red stuff just oozing out you!" 

Pete looked down and noticed that his skin, which was usually a deep, olive tone, had become uncharacteristically pink. He felt his blanket damp, and saw it to be soaked in.. in the something.  Man, did he feel thirsty.  

Pete rose from his makeshift locker-coffin-bed. Holy crap, he was thirsty. Suddenly the drenched blanket started smelling good, like a rare-cooked steak.  A thought trickled into his head; the fridge was across the room, where nasty liquid awaited him in depressing mason jars... or, there was something far more delicious right in front of him...  

Pete shook his head, shocked at himself. He couldn't eat Patrick! What was wrong with him!?   

Patrick made a strangled sound as Pete's forehead started beading with sweat. "Uh- Andy!? It's happening again!"

As Pete moved to wipe it away, he realized: not sweat; blood. He felt incredibly thirsty. A sinking feeling rose in his gut.  

Andy sprinted over. He gripped Pete by the shoulders. "Pete! Oh, man, you scared me half to death! You scared all of us! Are you okay!?" Pete felt his eyes linger a little too long on Andy's neck. 

"Pete!! Look at me!" Pete forced his eyes to move to Andy's face. "What's gotten into you??" 

Pete heard William's laughter in the back of his head. "You are nothing." 

Pete broke free of Andy's grip, and sprinted over the the fridge. Everything inside him revolted at the idea, but he forced himself to grab one of the jars and swallow Patrick's blood-substitute concoction. He sank to his knees, his head bowed.  

He heard Patrick approach, and hesitantly ask, ".. Pete?" 

"Do you have a crucifix on you?" 

".. What?" 

"DO. YOU. HAVE. A. CRUCIFIX??" 

"I think??"  

"Show me it." 

"What??? You'll be blinded by it!!"  

"JUST DO IT!!"   

Patrick ran across the room, fumbled around for it, and came back, a little silver cross in hand. He glanced at it uncertainly. 

"Are you sure about this?" 

"YES!!" Pete snarled, hearing a bit of a growl creep into his voice. 

Patrick flinched, and presented it to Pete.