My Guardian Vampire

“The block is gone, Ali. That means that you can get into his head—and it means that I can get into yours. And I readily assure you—I’ll make it so you can never dream the same again. This will be the last time.”

I opened my eyes.

I was standing on a street. At first I thought I was awake, in real life—but the world seemed… incomplete. The edges white, blurry, like a photograph faded out from time. The center of my vision, my world, felt very real however—very much present.

It was slower, though. The sound faded in, the sound of rushing cars and street traffic starting out as a muffled hum before it became almost too loud. The cars then came into focus, speeding on—my world tilted, uneven, leaving me feeling at sea despite the hard sidewalk I felt beneath my feet. In a phrase: trippy as fuck.

As I looked around, I had no idea where I was, or why. It felt like forever, and yet a few seconds—and I saw Him.

Vincent.

His eyes were waiting for mine, patient. He was standing in the center of the road, cars running around him—and yet no one seemed to notice he was there. He, too, didn’t seem to notice them. Instantly I knew I had to be in a dream—this had to be an impossibility. I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. The street didn't seem familiar, but judging by the amount of traffic, it must have been New York, or somewhere close. There were stores lining the street, and the road led into... Nothingness. In either direction, it suddenly cut off into pure white, like if a game developer had got up and quit halfway through making this level. The cars and people that moved into it simply disappeared.

It was still light out—it must have been just after sunset. He looked through them—to me, his stare unwavering. I couldn’t breathe, my body seemingly attempting to stuff itself in my throat to hide. What was it Gerard had sang, once?

‘And you must keep your soul like a secret in your throat…’

Well, my soul was damn well trying.

Gerard.

It was then I saw him—whether he had simply appeared, or had been there the whole time, I wasn’t sure. He looked… dead. Vincent was holding him in his arms. I instantly reached my hand out—only to have it almost be taken off by a car, the rush of air that went by feeling all too real. I looked up at Vincent, back into those eyes.

“Closer,” they seemed to say. “Do you dare? He’s right here—come closer and get him.”

I looked around at the cars, the metal boulders that sped past me into the odd, white nothingness that surrounded us—and then down, down to my baby. Could I risk it? Could I risk him?

I closed my eyes in thought, and I heard that voice again.
“Too late, Ali. When one is powerful, one doesn’t hesitate. You make your choice—and you live or die by it. You’ve hesitated far, far too much. Now, I’ll show you how hesitation pays—and what you’ve lost from it.”

I felt… things change. The sound, the temperature, all of it—the sensation was like tripping into a pool blindfolded, the shock nearly leaving me breathless. I opened my eyes, and there was suddenly sun—now it was just at sunset. Had I gone back a few minutes in time? The change was enough to blind me for a moment. I waited, and someone came into focus.

Gerard. He was alive, and awake. He was sitting down, writing at a desk in a room I didn’t recognize. His face seemed peaceful, relaxed, a small smirk playing at his lips as he scribbled. I couldn't help but wonder what he was writing, the content on his face enough to distract me momentarily.

“Gerard?” I asked, and he didn’t move. I peered closer, and I realized something.

Gerard wasn’t just alive in that moment, but… alive. The sunlight that filtered in through the window, golden and clean, illuminated his face. My mind went into overdrive. He wasn’t pale—well yes, he was a kind of stereotypical white guy pale—but human pale. His hair was different. He looked different, younger. What the fucking fuck?

I looked around. The room… Well, it seemed like a normal room. It was small, and dark, but not dissimilar from most homes. A blue bed, bookshelves above it, a small closet, a 90’s-looking tv set, wardrobe, wooden walls and red flooring, with boxes, movie and band posters, knickknacks everywhere—anyone could’ve lived here.

Gerard’s hair was long, messy. There were clothes everywhere. He looked like he had just woken up. He looked… He looked like a normal fucking teenager.

Before I could even truly process it, the door flew open, and Mikey rushed in.

“What’s up, Mikes?” Gerard asked, spinning his chair to look at him.

“Gerard, it’s—”

I heard a bang, and closed my eyes out of instinct. In a second I opened them—but again, everything was now different. There was darkness—but, after a moment, I realized it wasn’t the same as shutting my eyes. I was now enveloped in night instead of nothingness. My eyes began to adjust, and I saw trees, heard the crunch of grass—I was in the woods. Disoriented, I took a step—but I made no sound.

“Gerrrrrrarrrrrrd, where areeeee you?”

My blood went cold. I always thought that was just an expression, but it truly felt as if all my heat left my body. I froze.

‘Gerard’s brother.’

I turned, my breath shallow. Be it fear, be it the will of the horror I was in—my eyes caught onto him instantly. He was stumbling through the darkness. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve called him drunk—but there was an edge to it. I felt acid at the back of my throat—this was the same stumble he had when he came after me, the movement of a sick hide and seek. He peered around trees.

“Gerarrrrrddd, come out come out, wherever you areeeee!”

I could have vomited. I took another step—and still, no sound. I felt like a ghost—but then Gerard’s brother looked my way as if I had just shouted.

“Oh, what do we have here?”

A stream of flashback poured through my eyes as he advanced in my direction. He came closer, and eventually he was so close I was able to finally see fully, distinctly see him: he looked hungry, covered in blood. He started to run at me—not the vampire, but the human kind of run. ‘What the fuck is this?’

Before I could react, he was already at me. I expected pain, ground—but he moved right through me.

“What the fuck?” I asked aloud. I turned, and looked—and I saw him, with Gerard. Gerard looked horrified—and angry.

“How could you?!” Gerard yelled. “How could you do this?!”

“I didn’t mean to,” Gerard’s brother said. “Our parents… That was an accident. He said I’d be hungry, but I didn’t understand. I’m better now. I’ll make Mikey understand. I’ll make youunderstand.” I saw his mouth open wide, those teeth that had torn at my own throat. He lunged at Gerard—

I flinched, shutting my eyes tight. Everything went silent.

I opened my eyes again. There was light once more—sun? Daytime?

No, fire.

I stumbled back. There was a house, on fire. I saw Gerard—he had Mikey in his arms. They were leaving the house, sobbing. I didn’t understand. I put my hand out, tried to yell—and then there was a pulse. A wave of heat, followed by a bright light. The house had exploded. I fell back, shielded my eyes—

Silence again. I opened my eyes and sat up, dizzied. I was on a floor—stone. Concrete? There was faint light. I grabbed my head, feeling nauseous. I heard a tinkle of glass as I sat up, and I could feel glass all beneath me, as if the blast had propelled me through a window. There was no fire, though. No chaos. Only the tinkle of glass, and... something else. Softer, farther away, I heard someone crying, albeit softly. I looked over, dazed.

The room I was in looked desolate. There was a window broken, letting light in. Someone sat in the shadows by it, staying out of the light. I sat up some more, trying to make out their figure. They were clutching their head. I then heard them speak, croak out softly from the corner:

“.Like last night, they are not like tremors, they are worse than tremors, they are these terrors. And it's like, it feels like as if somebody was gripping my throat and squeezing and sometimes I see flames... And sometimes, I see people that I love dying and… it’s always… And I can’t… I can’t ever wake up.”

Something whipped past my head—before I could take it in, I heard a loud smash behind me. Looking back, it looked like a bottle had shattered—alcohol? I looked back at the figure, closer—

Gerard. What kind of hell was this?