Twelve Midnights

“Well, well.” He spoke softly. He peered around at the hundreds of corpses that lay near him. The lack of lights that contrasted the alley way became more faint under the blood. Not only were the weaklings laid upon it, his true minion brought their end. It made him shiver with delight and that square smile stuck to his teeth. “You did an extravagant job!”

Brendon bowed and tipped his hat. “Now sir, do you mind if I just have a taste of their blood?”

“For the bajillion-th time Urie, call me Beckett. William Beckett.” William smiled deviously. “But you like to jump to the gun now don’t you?” William didn’t seem at all interested in the bodies anymore. He got to one knee and removed his white glove. His fingers slowly slid against the deep red of blood. Brendon stiffened as William rose.

“Why Brendon, you want this?” His words slithered from his lips. Before Brendon could reply, William placed his bloody fingers against his lips. He tried to keep his composure by keeping his hands tight around the seams of his hat. However, Mr. Beckett wasn’t at all impressed. He dug his fingers deeper enough to stain Brendon’s pearly whites. He gasped but William held onto his hands. “Now, now Brendon, don’t go running like you usually do. Just take a taste, like you really wanted.”

Brendon closed his eyes. William Beckett was becoming such a nightmare, but his tongue didn’t think so at all. Its warmth felt against William’s finger, leaving it completely clean. He could see William’s eyes glinting as his body smashed against the wall. “Look Urie. Don’t let the daylights smother you.” William smirked against his neck.

He pulled back and peered into Urie,’s eyes. They always were big and usually begging. But he liked to throw him a taste and then watch him squirm. That’s how he looked right about now. His porcelain skin flushed a tickle me pink and blood against his chinny-chin-chin. William could even see his reflection just staring at his eyes.

But it didn’t matter now. He slid his glove smugly against his wrist as his cape sauntered between the gusts of wind. Brendon watched Mr. Beckett disappear into the dawn, carefully listening to the sound of his cane scratching against the gravel. If Mr. Beckett really could find his way through the dawn, then it meant Brendon had to sleep in the shadows. He slid his back against the wall, until his bottom was seated on the asphalt.

“At least you won’t break my heart.” He carefully whispered as he grabbed a cold hand. Brendon swept his palm against Michael’s face. He tried to forever close his eyes beneath the shadows. He didn’t want Michael to see him like this. Not just him, but betrayal and how it couldn’t feel anymore bitter. Brendon looked amongst the crowd of dead bodies, and felt the tears spill.

------

Andy grimaced and glared at Patrick. “There is no way-“

“Sadly, yes.” Patrick sighed. “It seems as if the vampires are getting their way…”

“Then can you explain to me what exactly is going on!” Andy pointed angrily at the TV screen. The reporter seemed shaken and tripping over her words. In the background revealed trails of bodies, all dismantled and eyes sunken in. It seemed like fear was engraved into their last dying wish.

Patrick paused and flipped through the pages of his research. “My guess is that when their teeth sink in, they feast on more blood than they already should. It leaves the human incapable of obtaining the vampire parasite. The vampire parasite feeds solely on the consumption of blood.”

Andy stared blankly back at Patrick.

He heaved a sigh. “Basically, if there isn’t enough blood for the parasite to release its toxins, then it obviously won’t circulate to the brain nor the nervous system. It won’t generate the characteristics of a vampire we would normally see. The immune system is trying to regain power over the toxin, but it can’t circulate without the lack of blood.”

“I…I still don’t get it.” Andy blinked aimlessly.

“ To put it more simply, the body is fighting itself, thus causing too much stress on the heart, that eventually shut it down completely.”

“What are we going to do?” Andy slammed his fists on the table. “I know that the innocent started to become vampires themselves. But we didn’t count on deaths!”

“I know Andy. I know.” Patrick replied comfortingly. “But this is just a mere guess. It’s morning now. We need to investigate the victims or we won’t get anywhere.”

Pete heard the whole conversation and it left a disgusted look on his face. He was leaning against the doorway where they couldn’t see him. Especially since the room was heavily dim in shades. “Do you-“ Patrick softly asked, “have any idea what’s going on?” He turned to the doorway. Patrick always had a funny way of knowing when Pete was around.

Pete crossed his arms and shrugged. “They're not out for blood anymore.”