My Name Is Death

It was all happening so fast.

You breath came in short bursts as your legs gave way; your head smacked violently against the unforgiving steps leading up to the blonde vampire's chair. That stupid throne. Black spots popped like fireworks in front of your eyes as you struggled to take in what little oxygen your worthless, failing lungs would allow. Blood was staining your shirt, your uniform shirt that you had personally paid for, your face. It was bubbling out of your mouth, making it even more difficult to breathe than it already was.

The blonde and the bouncer had leapt over you, and where the nervous shooter had been standing was a frenzy of snarls and screaming... God, there was so much screaming. Couldn't they all just shut the fuck up? All you could see was the ceiling, with those stupid black spots eating more and more of it with every second that passed. Your heart pounded angrily, like it was your fault all this pressure was being forced upon it. Like you had chosen for your lungs to collapse. More weight, he says. And dies. Was this how you were going to die? From a poorly aimed shot and only being able to think of not-so-memorable quotes from "The Crucible"? Well, if Giles Corey "were a fearsome man," you were right little terror and you sure as hell weren't going to go out like this.

Unfortunately, the screaming continued. If they would just shut their fucking mouths for one second, you would be able to maybe hear what was going on. To concentrate on breathing and... well... not dying. Why aren't they leaving? you wondered.

"Stop," a familiar voice ordered forcefully.

But the screaming continued, and the ceiling was lost in the blood that was so negligently pouring out of your body. But you didn't surrender to the cool, black void of unconsciousness. It fucking took you.

--------

God, my back hurts, you thought groggily. When the hell did my bed get so hard? You rolled over, grabbing for your pillow and trying to get more comfortable. A terrible mistake, as you found yourself on an ever harder, and not to mention stickier floor.

You muttered a few choice curses under your breath before blinking open your eyes. The gaudy red and black decor glared obnoxiously back at you.

"Oh good, you're awake," a short, black skirt said cheerfully. You followed her chicken-y legs up to a tiny tube top and a smile that made you almost positive that she wasn't entirely there. She extended her pasty hand to you, which you took after a moment's hesitation, and helped you back onto the table you'd been sleeping on.

"I had to change your clothes," she said, bustling about you and yet doing nothing productive at all. "You had the funniest red stain on them... I think it must have been blood... not to mention the hole."

Her pointless moving and attempting to touch you in what you thought were attempts to make you more comfortable were sweet, of course, but they did little more than annoy you. The irritation that washed over you only made way for a flood of memories of the night before.

"I was shot!" you exclaimed, half-furious and half-surprised. You pulled out the collar of the over-sized red and black Fangtasia novelty t-shirt that the woman had dressed you in and examined your chest. There was no mark. And you felt fit as a fiddle, aside from the stiffness in your spine from sleeping on the hard table and of course the fall to the floor. "But I was shot! I remember! Why aren't the police all over this place?"

"Because," came the slightly accented voice of the blonde vampire from the night before who was now sweeping gracefully across the room and coming to a stop between your legs that were dangling over the edge of the table. He leaned intimidatingly toward your face with a fangless grin in the style of a cat that has just caught the canary. "We took care of it." Then he looked down. "My, isn't that a lovely sight, Pam?"

"Beautiful," the bouncer from the night before drawled in a terribly bored voice that was drowned out by your angry shriek. You yanked the shirt down and slammed yourself a good foot away from where you were sitting, having only just realized your only lower coverage was your underwear. With your legs crossed Indian style and the corners of the shirt tucked safely under your knees, you resembled a miniature circus tent. A ridiculous miniature circus tent.

"Isn't that sweet?" the blonde said in his arrogant amusement. "She's modest. Ginger, out."

The woman who had dressed you bustled out of the room.

You ignored the vampire's comment about yourself, for the time being at least. "What do you mean, 'We took care of it'?" you hissed.

"That little boy with his little toy gun never stood a chance," Pam scoffed with a condescending smile.

"You killed him?" you exclaimed, horrified. Sure, you wanted to beat his ass to a pulp for shooting you and... "Wait... how am I still alive? I took a gunshot to the chest and lost a lot of blood before any of you assholes even looked at me... actually, I don't remember anyone coming to help me. Can you smell the lawsuit I'm cooking up here?"

"Eric gave you his blood-- you should be groveling at his feet," she suggested, her pretty nose wrinkling. "We could have--"

"Enough, Pam," the blonde-- Eric-- ordered.

Pam huffed and rolled her eyes. You said nothing for a moment, processing.

"You gave me your... blood?" you asked, perplexed. A small, revolted choke came involuntarily from your throat. "That's disgusting. Why?"

"I was not ready for you to die just yet," Eric said, a spark of sadistic amusement lingering on his face. "And our blood has certain qualities that make it... quite helpful in such situations."

"I suppose I should thank you..." you trailed off, as if you had all intentions of going through with it. Instead, you took an accusing tone. "And just why did you save me? You didn't seem to have a problem disposing of all the other humans here."

"We aren't stupid," the bartender hissed, emerging from the shadows. Well, it was just one big fucking party, wasn't it? "Do you realize what a massacre like that would cause? We've kept our doings in the dark for an eternity, we can take care of one stray human."

"We glamoured them all," Pam explained, bored again. "They remember nothing."

"And you seem to be quite resistant to glamour," Eric said, eyebrow raised. "Which is why your heart is still beating."

You wrinkled your forehead, still angry and disgusted, but now slightly curious in spite of yourself as well. "Is that weird?"

"It is... uncommon," he mused. "Now tell me... why would you, a painfully average seeming human, have such a useful talent?"

"I was dropped on my head too many times as a baby," you retorted acidly.

The truth was, now that he'd mentioned it, you had a decent hypothesis as to why you had been able pull yourself out of the glamour-induced stupor before it had taken full control over you... But you weren't about to let three vampires know that. Especially ones that were so rude.

"So she's funny, too," Eric said, smiling patronizingly. "Well, I think we're done here."

"So I can go now?" you asked hopefully. Not that you were going to let them keep you there.

"I didn't say that," he replied, his fangs popping down and his face contorting into a terrible snarl. "I hope you taste as good now as you did when you were dying."

--------

There were several things wrong with this picture. The first, and most pressing, matter being that an overbearing, cold-blooded vampire was currently pinning you back onto a table and planning on drinking your blood in a place where there was, of course, no one around to hear you scream. (Well, no one that cared, anyway.) Another being that you had been so stunned at his attack that it had taken you a moment to struggle, which only fueled your temper.

Naturally, you ignored every warning bell that had ever and would ever go off in your head, and in your most definitely justified fury, you spat in his face.

Pam and the bartender hissed.

"Now," he said calmly, in contrast to the rage twisting on his face. He raised a hand and moved it swiftly across his mouth. "That wasn't very intelligent, was it?" His expression changed to one of cold indifference as he issued an order in another language to his two companions, who immediately nodded curtly and exited the room. His expression switched back to a cold amusement.

Fuck, you thought angrily, staring defiantly back into his icy, dead eyes. Why don't I ever know when to stop?

You fought against him, trying to kick and punch and even bite, but there was no way for you to move if he didn't want you to. And of course, he didn't want you to.

"You will listen very carefully," he said in a low voice with a small grin creeping onto the corners of his lips. "I saved your life because I find you interesting. You would do well to remember it. That is the only reason you are still breathing after this little... display. I gave you my blood. We are connected. Should you tell anyone what happened here, I will find you. And you will not be the only one to suffer the consequences."

You glared furiously up at him.

"I'm glad we've come to an agreement," he said, letting go of your arms and standing up with a fangy half smile. "You may leave at sunrise. Pam!"

You rubbed the places on your arms where he had nearly cut off the circulation with his grip (there would definitely be bruises) as Pam returned, carrying a small basket and looking as if she wished she were doing something more interesting. Eric sat down on a bar stool, and she set her basket down next to him on the counter top.

Something vibrated loudly on the table next to yours.

"Your brother will be worried," Pam said sharply, a note of warning in her voice.

You leapt over and grabbed your phone, flipping it savagely open. "What?!" you snapped acidly.

"Leona, thank God!" Alan's voice exclaimed from the other end of the line. "Where the hell have you been? I had to tell mom and dad we were having a housewarming party--"

"Damn it, Alan, it's none of your goddamned business where I am and what I'm doing! Go home! I'm sick of babysitting you--"

"YOU ARE NOT MY BABYSITTER AND YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE GONE--"

You stared at the phone in furious disbelief for a moment, while your brother yelled obscenities at you through it. Pam and Eric were watching you, looking slightly amused, as she wrapped a smock around Eric's shoulders. She ran her fingers through his hair and stopped for a moment, disgusted.

"Eric, you really have to stop this. This is the second time in two weeks that I've had to get blood out of your hair. Do you want me to cut it again?"

Eric put a hand up to silence her.

You rolled your eyes at them and interrupted your little brother's ranting. "Don't you lecture me, Alan Wendell Mason," you fumed viciously. "I am six years your elder and in charge while you're here. You're staying under my roof, and I'm kicking you out. You had no reason to be so irresponsible! Now go home! I want you out of there by the time I get back in the morning! I'm at Fangtasia; have Emma or Sarah or whatever her name is drive you to get the car. Now!"

"Fine!" Alan hung up, quite possibly just as angry as you were. You slammed the phone down without closing it, much harder than you intended to, and the top half snapped off. Of course, that made you even angrier, so you chucked the pieces at the wall.

Pam, who had been smearing dye onto sections of Eric's hair and wrapping them with foil had paused mid-fold to watch you, while Eric looked on with that arrogant, almost absent amusement back in his eyes.

"What?" you hissed.

"Well, I was going through her phone while she was asleep, as you know," Eric told Pam, ignoring you but directing every word your way. "And you should have seen the text messages she was sending her brother. They were absolutely ruthless. I think she would make an excellent vampire."

"She's much too impulsive," Pam argued, turning back to Eric's hair. "She'd have us all staked the second she was set loose."

Eric chuckled. "We'd have to train her a bit first." He looked directly at you and said something to Pam in the other language, causing her to look to you and smile, dropping her fangs.

"I'm right here," you announced, annoyed.

Eric turned to you, his eyes cold. "And? Your antics are growing tiresome. Please show some restraint."

"Whatever," you huffed.

It was going to be a really long night.