Vampires Will Never Hurt You
'Wine-cellar'
Gerard's POV.
I was unpacking the groceries when I felt familiar thumping inside of me.
In shock I dropped the can of milk I was holding.
I really hated this.
Fangs started to poke out of my mouth.
Eyes changed color.
Blood ran so fast I wondered how I still hadn't exploded.
Everything seems to slow down.
I stumbled in my 'wine-cellar' almost tripping twice in the stairs, once actually tripping.
There were bottles and bottles and just a little more bottles sitting neatly in the shelfs.
But most of them empty..
I grabbed one bottle, it was empty.
I threw it at the floor and it shattered in thousands of pieces.
I couldn't care less, now I just had to find a bottle that wasn't empty.
When I finally found a half empty, or half full, what ever bottle, I ripped the cap forcefully off and drank down the liquid.
When the last drop fell into my mouth, I licked my lips and sighed.
Then I started shaking and dropped down to my knees.
I held myself and screamed.
I tried to creep towards the stairs upstairs, but soon everything went black.
3 hours later
I woke up on the cold stone-floor.
I should bring here a carpet or something, 'cause I've been passing out pretty often recently.
I guess old blood doesn't do it so good for me then.
But I refuse to kill people to keep myself in a walking-condition.
That's just the most annoying part of this!
You don't die if you don't drink blood.
You just get worse and worse.
You just end up on the ground shaking and gasping for air.
But you don't die.
I stood up on my shaky legs and walked upstairs, still taking support from the wall beside me.
When I got up, I saw it was dark outside.
I looked at the clock in the hall.
It was 11 pm.
I walked in kitchen and saw the mess of milk on the floor.
Shit.
I'd have to go to the grocery again.
Soon they'll think I'm stalking their grandson, what was his name? Mm.. Fred? Frances?
Frank! Yeah. That was it..
Anyway, now I've got a kitchen to clean up.
I'm glad the milk was almost the last thing to unpack. There were only some fruits in the bags anymore. Something could've gone bad in the three hours I was laying on the cellar-floor.
I was unpacking the groceries when I felt familiar thumping inside of me.
In shock I dropped the can of milk I was holding.
I really hated this.
Fangs started to poke out of my mouth.
Eyes changed color.
Blood ran so fast I wondered how I still hadn't exploded.
Everything seems to slow down.
I stumbled in my 'wine-cellar' almost tripping twice in the stairs, once actually tripping.
There were bottles and bottles and just a little more bottles sitting neatly in the shelfs.
But most of them empty..
I grabbed one bottle, it was empty.
I threw it at the floor and it shattered in thousands of pieces.
I couldn't care less, now I just had to find a bottle that wasn't empty.
When I finally found a half empty, or half full, what ever bottle, I ripped the cap forcefully off and drank down the liquid.
When the last drop fell into my mouth, I licked my lips and sighed.
Then I started shaking and dropped down to my knees.
I held myself and screamed.
I tried to creep towards the stairs upstairs, but soon everything went black.
3 hours later
I woke up on the cold stone-floor.
I should bring here a carpet or something, 'cause I've been passing out pretty often recently.
I guess old blood doesn't do it so good for me then.
But I refuse to kill people to keep myself in a walking-condition.
That's just the most annoying part of this!
You don't die if you don't drink blood.
You just get worse and worse.
You just end up on the ground shaking and gasping for air.
But you don't die.
I stood up on my shaky legs and walked upstairs, still taking support from the wall beside me.
When I got up, I saw it was dark outside.
I looked at the clock in the hall.
It was 11 pm.
I walked in kitchen and saw the mess of milk on the floor.
Shit.
I'd have to go to the grocery again.
Soon they'll think I'm stalking their grandson, what was his name? Mm.. Fred? Frances?
Frank! Yeah. That was it..
Anyway, now I've got a kitchen to clean up.
I'm glad the milk was almost the last thing to unpack. There were only some fruits in the bags anymore. Something could've gone bad in the three hours I was laying on the cellar-floor.