My Guardian Vampire

“Gerard?” I asked, my mouth agape. He looked… Terrible. Where and when was I this time? Suddenly, he looked up, and seemed to set his eyes dead on me.

“Who the fuck are you?”

I looked around. There was no one else.

“Can… Can you see me? Can you hear me?” He looked at me like I was crazy.

“Yeah. But I’ll be honest—I’m crossfaded as fuck right now, so for all I know, you’re just a figment of my imagination. You’re hazy as all hell. But it’s all easy peasy pumpkin peasy pumpkin pie.” I blinked in surprise. This looked like Gerard—but this didn’t sound like him.

“Gerard, this isn’t you,” I said, feeling bile at the back of my throat. Maybe… I guess he was like this, a little, when he was drunk at the concert. He sighed, and sat up some, coming back to attention.

“You may be right. Am I me? I’m not sure.” He seemed to think on this for a moment, before frowning. “Can I tell you something?” I shrugged, a bit too confounded to really argue one way or the other. I noticed he had a cigarette in his hand, of which he took a drag, before blowing out some smoke. And it indeed smelled like a cigarette—if he was 'crossfaded,' what exactly was the other drug he was using, if not pot?

“I guess. I’m just a figment of your imagination, right?” He nodded, apparently appeased by this logic.

“Figment or not, you’re going to think I’m crazy. I think I’m crazy.” He then stubbed his cigarette out, and looked directly at me, his gaze suddenly more alert. “I can’t sleep like normal anymore—I’m up all night, dreading the light that comes at the break of dawn. I stay out here and hide in the shadows. At night… I feel like a shadow now. I can’t look at myself anymore—I don’t recognize me… And I just feel hungry, but nothing satiates.”

At the mention of hunger, he suddenly looked me over a little more. His face then grew pained, and he took a deep breath before cursing. “Shit,” he said, gritting his teeth. I felt my heart break. He then looked back up at me. “Sorry,” he apologized. “That’s been happening a lot. I got hurt somehow… I can’t really remember it. Can you come over here and help me?”
I nodded, but felt… Odd. Warning signs were ringing off in my mind. But whatever this was… Nothing could actually happen, right?

I carefully moved over, sitting just over the edge of the shadow. He doubled over in pain again, clutching his stomach, and I quickly moved a bit closer. I gently placed his hands out of the way—they were cold, clammy. At first I didn’t understand what was wrong, and assumed it was just hunger—but then he lifted up his shirt. There was a large gash there—but it wasn’t bleeding.

“Isn’t that just the weirdest shit you’ve ever seen?” he asked. I realized he was panting softly, the pain obviously taking its toll. He ran his hand through his hair. “I feel like a sponge without water—like my body’s just sucked up every last bit of blood left. Some guy said he’d come back soon and make it better. He said all this-” he gestured to the smashed alcohol bottle “-would numb the pain until he got back. I’m not sure I’m going to make it. I’ve pretty much spun the chamber dry on that gun.” He grinned weakly—and I saw a bit of my Gerard in there. I could’ve wept.

“Gerard…” I said, and touched his face lightly. “You’ll be okay, I promise.” He looked back to me, and I saw his face flicker with doubt, hope, pain—before settling on a smirk. My heart nearly fell out of its chest with flips, his confident expression being the last thing I expected.

“I feel incredibly lame to hit on a figment of my imagination, but… Maybe the pain is making me bold. To be completely honest, all I can assume you are right now is some kind of guardian angel.” His smirk weakened a little as another stab of pain went through him. “And I sure hope you’re right.”

At a time like this, he could still make me blush. I laughed, facepalming, and he managed a laugh as well. I then nodded. “I know I’m right. You’ll be fine, Gerard.” A thought then struck me: will he? In my present… I didn’t know.

“I like the way you say my name,” he said. “What’s yours?” More heart stutters. Damnit. I tried to refocus. Why… Why was I here?

“I don’t… I don’t think I should tell you that. I don’t think you’d remember it if I did, either. I think I might disappear soon.”

“Well, welcome to the Hotel Bella Muerte Miss Guardian Angel, owned and operated by Gerard Muerte-” he then gritted his teeth again, his breath staggered for a moment before he relaxed. “I know you say you’re leaving… But it’s hard to hold on. I hope you do the same, at least for a little bit longer, sugar.” He then balled his fist, closing his eyes tightly. “This is certainly the hardest part of living I’ve ever had to go through. This could be the last night I lie—could I lie next to you?” He then smirked again, briefly, before it dissolved into one of pain. I put my hand on his, my fingers brushing over his skin gently, trying to be as soothing as possible.

“I’m sorry, Gerard. If I could stay here, I would.” He attempted to smile again, his expression much more grim.

“That’s a shame. I feel so weighted now—like I’m stuck in fog. Talking to you is like poking holes in it so I can breathe.” He then changed his position, looking at me more directly. “If you can’t help it, then I understand. Pull the plug if you must. But… I would like to learn your name, even if I won’t be able to remember later… If there is a later”

Ah, fuck it. “Ali,” I informed, with a soft smile. He grinned, his face looking like flower beaming in the sun.

“Ali,” he repeated, and seemed to relax a little. “Thank you. I’ll try my best to remember that.” I nodded.

“Now,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I think… I need to go. How do I do that?” I looked around. There was technically a door, but… Could I go through that? I went to stand up, placing my hands on the ground—and felt a sudden, sharp pain. “Shit,” I cursed, looking at my hand. A piece of glass from the window had nicked it good.

I suddenly felt hands on mine. I looked up, and Gerard…His face was suddenly very, very different.

“G-gerard?” I asked. Not looking at me, he turned my hand over. He gently, but firmly, pulled the glass out—and held my hand there as blood began to freely leak. “Gerard?” I prompted again. His eyes finally flashed to mine, and yet this somehow seemed worse.

“Come here,” he said. Instantly I wanted to move away, but I couldn’t. I was frozen, and I couldn’t understand why. My body, my hands—nothing could move. Instead, Gerard moved over, closer. My breath became shallow as he looked me over, as if suddenly seeing me for the first time. I seemed to have lost him again—and I couldn’t speak to get him back. Leaning on a knee in front of me, he placed his hands on my arms. His breath seemed to become sharper as he neared, and I could feel his hands shaking against my skin. Studying me, I could then only see his eyes—pain, and hunger, and confusion. He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. Despite my fear, despite everything, I could still feel my heart respond to the Gerard that was underneath this one. He moved in closer and fully kissed me, and I nearly lost myself to him then, forgetting where I was.

He then broke off sharply, his grip tightening on me to the point of discomfort. He seemed unsure of his own movements—I realized he probably didn’t even consciously know what he was hungry for, what he was about to do. He kissed my neck, and I shivered deeply, trying to shout, to move away, to do anything—but I couldn’t. He then pulled his mouth away, and for a second, I thought I was saved—but then he instead murmured against my neck, close enough that I could feel those teeth.

“Ali, I think I might be a vampire.”

I tried to speak again, and managed out a small whimper. He looked up at me once more, his face distorted in anguish. He shook his head, as if trying to snap himself out of it. He released me, grabbing his stomach once more. I instantly backed away, wondering how the fuck I could get out of here. I could go into the light—but would that hurt him? Would he know enough to not go after me? Would it even be enough to stop him?

He looked up, and from his expression, I saw which side of him had won.

“Gerard, no!” I yelled, but he was gone. There was only a monster in his place now. In a flash, he grabbed me again, and I barely had time to process the fear as I shut my eyes, preparing for the bite—

And then there was only darkness.

I opened my eyes again. Headlights streamed past, and for a second, I thought I was back on the road with Vincent—but I realized I was still in the car. I sat up, panting hard, and placed my hand over my throat. I felt nothing.

“Gytha?” Katy asked. I nearly jumped out of my seat. Her face took on a pitying look. “Was it another dream about Gerard’s brother?” The worry on her face struck a note of guilt in me; she tried so hard to be attuned to my distress. Bob had been right—it was time to let Katy focus on herself for once.

“I saw,” Mike said. I looked over to him, and he wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“You read my dream?” I asked. Mike hesitated, before glancing over at me.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I saw the look on your face, and once I thought you might be in distress, I couldn’t stop myself.”

“What the fuck was all that?” I asked. Tré turned around in his seat, looking back at us.

“Was it a sex dream? Was it kinky?!” He then huffed. “Figures, the one time in my life I behave and I miss out on the kinkiest sex dream Ali’s ever had.” There was silence for a second as we looked at Tré. He pursed his lips. “Fine, fine, don’t act like it wasn’t a possibility though. No more jokes before meeting the big bad vampire.”

I looked around at the world that we passed. “How much longer?”

“About five minutes,” Tré guessed, shrugging. We definitely weren’t in the best neighborhood—at first glance, it was just like New York. But… There was something different about it. Maybe a little less charm. Surprisingly, however, we weren’t in a warehouse district like Billie’s place. It seemed… Pretty normal, like a little dingy suburbia. Compared to the warehouses, this was high-class.

“Ali…” Mike trailed, putting his hand on my arm. Bob looked back at us, but said nothing. Mike moved his hand, and I shifted (the most I could with my stomach) to look at him. He seemed to hesitate, and I gave him a lame look, telling him to get on with it. “I think… I think that they’re probably making Gerard experience his past on loop—or at least the part when he was turned.”

My stomach tightened, and I took a breath, remembering that stress was bad for the baby. ‘This is going to be one fucked up kid already,’ I thought.

“Why would they do that?” I asked. Mike shook his head.

“I don’t know. I thought they would just be keeping him confused… But this seems so specific.” Mike looked thoughtful, but didn’t continue. He saw my questioning look, but waved his hand. “I’ll think on it. Maybe Damien will have some answers.”

It wasn’t long until we pulled up to an unassuming house—a little larger than the rest, maybe, but nothing particularly good or bad. I looked around as Tré and Mike started to get out.

“Is this… Is this really it?” I asked, stunned. It seemed anticlimactic. Mike nodded. “Never judge a book by its cover—and never underestimate Damien.”

I nodded, and Mike helped me out of the car. Katy hugged Bob, and they seemed to exchange looks, Katy whispering something under her breath. She seemed unhappy.

“Ali, I think we’re going to stay out here and talk,” she said. I nodded.

“Bob’s in troubbleeeee,” Tré sang. I couldn’t find it in me to laugh. Tré led the way, Mike putting his hand on my back to urge me forward. Normal as it was, my feet were screaming to turn in the other direction, and I felt something… off. We moved up to the door, and Tré stood aside before gesturing to it, indicating I should be the one to announce our presence. My heart began to pound, and I couldn’t help hearing each beat as No No No. But… there was nothing else to do. I needed to do this if I wanted to find Gerard, danger or not.

I knocked on the door.