I'm Half-Doomed and You're Semi-Sweet

I’d promise you anything for another shot at life.

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He sat perched on the familiar cliff overlooking the city, now eternally alone in more ways than one.

He vaguely wished the height of the fall were enough to end his miserable existence.

But it wasn’t, and he would forever be doomed to the earth, avoiding the truths of what he had become what felt like over an eternity ago: a vampire.

He abruptly stood, feeling the need to act like he had some sort of purpose, a mission for the long night ahead of him. He took off running, making it to the city outskirts in a matter of seconds.

It couldn’t hurt to circle around to be absolutely positive that nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

Sure, the city was now rid of Dandies, but there could be the occasional straggler that might have found his way back to town.

Finding nothing unusual, he found himself wandering the streets well past a normal person’s Monday night. As if it mattered. He had no one waiting for him back at the warehouse.

All that was waiting for him there was a lecture from Patrick.

Thinking of the warehouse got him thinking of her, which in turn got him thinking about love.

Did he love?

The answer was no.

Was there even such a thing?

For real?

Sure, Joe loved pizza, and Andy loved his comics, and Patrick his hats…

Maybe for mortals.

Yes, Pete had loved when he was mortal. He knew that, at least.

But really, he couldn’t even remember that far back, so it didn’t exactly count, not anymore.

He had concluded this: vampires don’t love.

That’s not true, his inner voice commented. Look at Hanna and Brendon.

He heard an involuntary growl escape his throat just thinking about those infuriating vampires.

And he hated himself all the more.

Because the animalistic noise that had presented itself courtesy of his vampire instinct reminded him of what he really was, or at least what he was supposed to be: a bloodsucker.

But it was too late; he remembered and felt his dry throat yearning for the red substance.

In his stupid fit of anger, he had left the warehouse without telling anyone, without bringing any equipment, and without a second thought as to where he would avoid the sunlight come morning.

And not to mention his fatal mistake: without any of the ingredients of the blend Patrick had so cleverly invented to ward off his thirst. Possibly the stupidest thing he had done in ages.

But what to do now?

He was undoubtedly thirsty, yet he had never fed upon a human before.

Was it right to take out his thirst on unsuspecting creatures?

Say, that girl walking on the street ahead of him?

Or would he morally be better off feeding on that rabid squirrel over there in the gutter, probably crawling with filth and infectious diseases?

The thought of taking the easy approach clouded from his mind as he smelled the girl up ahead.

You chose to leave, now you deal with the consequences. Man up. Stop thinking so much, you’re a vampire, for Christ’s sake!

The inner, darker part of himself continued to torment him. His mouth was already watering and he was beginning to have hallucinations of himself sinking his fangs into the girl’s flawless neck, and-

He needed to get a grip. He was practically drooling. He shook his head at himself, ashamed.

What would Patrick think of him now?

He continued to walk, not even noticing that the girl had stopped. She spun around so abruptly that he almost ran straight into her.

“Yeah, don’t even try it,” she told him in a knowing tone of voice.

Great, he thought. Now she thinks I’m going to kidnap her. Or worse.

“I wasn’t-” he began, trying to explain himself. But he couldn’t find the right words as he caught her eyes and his mind clouded up again, forbidding him to think straight. She stared back at him defiantly, not backing down in the slightest. He took a step in the opposite direction, as not to tempt himself any further.

“Wait,” she said, coming after him. She placed a hand on his arm to stop him. She had either not noticed his cold skin or otherwise ignored it. He wrenched his arm from her grasp. “Do you need somewhere to stay?”

He turned back to look at her, realizing he didn’t have very long before sunrise, and then he would be simply screwed.

The look on his face must have said it all, because she led him down the next few blocks and he wordlessly followed.

She left him in the living room of her apartment, giving him a chance to survey his surroundings.

His instincts told him to get out of here fast; that something wasn’t right, but she returned before he could even decide to think about what to do.

“I know what you are,” she stated, upon re-entering the room.

He whipped around, startled by the wooden stake in her hand.

Shit.