Billie the Vampire
Chance Meetings
It had been Mike’s idea for Billie Joe to take walks at night around the city to get used to controlling himself around people when it was harder. So far it hadn’t been too hard, all he had to do was think about Tré’s earlier bright idea of using a squirt bottle to “train him not to bite other people’s necks.” He grinned as he remembered how he had turned on Tré, despite getting soaked, and had gotten threateningly close enough for Tré to agree that it was time to move onto something else.
Surprisingly there weren’t many people out and about tonight. Tonight felt so good to him, making him feel alive. The previous hours he had spent awake now seemed as though he had really been half asleep in comparison. This was the best he had felt in days. Maybe all he had needed was to tell his friends. Dealing with being a vampire was too much for one person alone. Billie Joe breathed in a deep breath of air, wanting the feeling to last.
He was brought back to reality when he realized he had been staring and heading towards a certain somewhat familiar place. Blinking, he remembered when he had been there last. Hesitating for a moment first, he walked over to the alley, staring down it. His feeling of happiness faded away slowly until he just felt alive. Drawn by some unknown force, he stepped into the alley, remembering what had happened. Why he wanted to revisit a place of bad memories, he didn’t know.
A sudden sharp pain jolted him out of his memories. He quickly glanced down at his arm where it originated. His knees felt weak as he saw a knife sticking out of it, blood flowing generously from it. With a shaky hand, he reached to pull it out, feeling quite dizzy.
“What the fuck?” he asked in the angriest voice he could muster, spinning around to see who threw it. A woman stood at the entrance to the alley, a grin spread across her face. She looked young, like maybe in her mid-twenties at the most. There was something about her that made his hand freeze, though, around the handle of the knife. Something about her made him feel like a small little mouse trapped in a corner by a teasing cat.
“Hello there, Billie Joe Armstrong. I hear were attacked backstage last week,” she said in a falsely sweet voice. “It sounded like you were attacked by, oh, I don’t know, a vampire.”
Billie’s heart thudded so loudly, and he believed that she could actually hear it for sure. Realization dawned on him: she was a vampire slayer. Then he regained his composure, yanking the knife out of his arm, one of his inhuman, scary grins on his face.
“Some vampire slayer you are,” he smirked, forgetting all about any pain he felt in his cockiness. “Shouldn’t you know you can’t kill me just by throwing a knife at me? Or did you just miss your mark even though I didn’t move at all?”
The vampire slayer didn’t seem phased by what he had pointed out. “I wasn’t trying to kill you. I prefer a more traditional approach if I can help it. That knife was only to help keep you from escaping. It was coated in a sedative.”
As she was saying it, Billie Joe did start to feel less alive and more like he usually felt during the day. The knife fell to the ground as he realized he really was trapped. When she started to advance toward him, he took a step backwards, but lost his balance, clumsily crashing to the ground. Due to fear and the lethargy slipping over him, he couldn’t make himself give up. He felt resigned as his soon-to-be murderer tied something that felt like rope, though stung more than it should have if it really were, around his wrists. His arm throbbed painfully, though it steadily dulled as the sedative kicked in.
The woman returned to the front of him, pulling something out of a pocket: a wooden stake, just like in the stories about vampires. Stories must have had quite a bit of truth to them. “I always grace the vampires I slay with the name of their killer.”
Determined to at least be sarcastic to the end, Billie Joe replied, “Wow, I feel so lucky. Heck, I feel almost lucky enough to not care that I’m about to be killed.”
This unfortunately earned no response at all whatsoever. “I am Selena Surtsey, and I will carry on the tradition of my family by slaying you, vampire.” She reached out to grab his shirt, dragging him up to his knees with surprising strength.
‘Well, I now have nothing to lose,’ Billie thought matter-of-factly. He then bit Selena’s arm, not drinking any blood. If there was ever a time not to, it was now. He jerked his head as violently as he could to the side and heard with satisfaction a gasp of pain. Not bothering to stay to see his handiwork unfold, he forced himself to his feet and brushed past Selena, running as fast as he could, feeling light-headed and on the verge of collapsing unconscious.
He randomly burst into a store, running down an aisle of merchandise before stopping, seeing someone with a surprised face.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said in a faint voice to Nathaniel before passing out.
Surprisingly there weren’t many people out and about tonight. Tonight felt so good to him, making him feel alive. The previous hours he had spent awake now seemed as though he had really been half asleep in comparison. This was the best he had felt in days. Maybe all he had needed was to tell his friends. Dealing with being a vampire was too much for one person alone. Billie Joe breathed in a deep breath of air, wanting the feeling to last.
He was brought back to reality when he realized he had been staring and heading towards a certain somewhat familiar place. Blinking, he remembered when he had been there last. Hesitating for a moment first, he walked over to the alley, staring down it. His feeling of happiness faded away slowly until he just felt alive. Drawn by some unknown force, he stepped into the alley, remembering what had happened. Why he wanted to revisit a place of bad memories, he didn’t know.
A sudden sharp pain jolted him out of his memories. He quickly glanced down at his arm where it originated. His knees felt weak as he saw a knife sticking out of it, blood flowing generously from it. With a shaky hand, he reached to pull it out, feeling quite dizzy.
“What the fuck?” he asked in the angriest voice he could muster, spinning around to see who threw it. A woman stood at the entrance to the alley, a grin spread across her face. She looked young, like maybe in her mid-twenties at the most. There was something about her that made his hand freeze, though, around the handle of the knife. Something about her made him feel like a small little mouse trapped in a corner by a teasing cat.
“Hello there, Billie Joe Armstrong. I hear were attacked backstage last week,” she said in a falsely sweet voice. “It sounded like you were attacked by, oh, I don’t know, a vampire.”
Billie’s heart thudded so loudly, and he believed that she could actually hear it for sure. Realization dawned on him: she was a vampire slayer. Then he regained his composure, yanking the knife out of his arm, one of his inhuman, scary grins on his face.
“Some vampire slayer you are,” he smirked, forgetting all about any pain he felt in his cockiness. “Shouldn’t you know you can’t kill me just by throwing a knife at me? Or did you just miss your mark even though I didn’t move at all?”
The vampire slayer didn’t seem phased by what he had pointed out. “I wasn’t trying to kill you. I prefer a more traditional approach if I can help it. That knife was only to help keep you from escaping. It was coated in a sedative.”
As she was saying it, Billie Joe did start to feel less alive and more like he usually felt during the day. The knife fell to the ground as he realized he really was trapped. When she started to advance toward him, he took a step backwards, but lost his balance, clumsily crashing to the ground. Due to fear and the lethargy slipping over him, he couldn’t make himself give up. He felt resigned as his soon-to-be murderer tied something that felt like rope, though stung more than it should have if it really were, around his wrists. His arm throbbed painfully, though it steadily dulled as the sedative kicked in.
The woman returned to the front of him, pulling something out of a pocket: a wooden stake, just like in the stories about vampires. Stories must have had quite a bit of truth to them. “I always grace the vampires I slay with the name of their killer.”
Determined to at least be sarcastic to the end, Billie Joe replied, “Wow, I feel so lucky. Heck, I feel almost lucky enough to not care that I’m about to be killed.”
This unfortunately earned no response at all whatsoever. “I am Selena Surtsey, and I will carry on the tradition of my family by slaying you, vampire.” She reached out to grab his shirt, dragging him up to his knees with surprising strength.
‘Well, I now have nothing to lose,’ Billie thought matter-of-factly. He then bit Selena’s arm, not drinking any blood. If there was ever a time not to, it was now. He jerked his head as violently as he could to the side and heard with satisfaction a gasp of pain. Not bothering to stay to see his handiwork unfold, he forced himself to his feet and brushed past Selena, running as fast as he could, feeling light-headed and on the verge of collapsing unconscious.
He randomly burst into a store, running down an aisle of merchandise before stopping, seeing someone with a surprised face.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said in a faint voice to Nathaniel before passing out.