In spite of a warnin' voice that comes in the night and repeats, repeats in my ear: Don't you know, little fool, you never can win?

I'm awake before the sun sets, and awake before Tommy. Gadzooks is still curled by my feet, paws twitching gently. I prop myself on one elbow and wait for Tommy to wake. His sleeping expression is a stark contrast from the usual, without put-on or performance. I reach out and stroke the hint of gray at his temples. My fingertips only graze the strands of his hair before he catches my hand and presses my knuckles to his mouth. His lips are cold and dry. Almost sheepishly, I whisper: "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." He doesn't respond, simply throwing the covers off and rising inelegantly to his feet. He knocks into the side of the bed, jostling the mattress. Gadzooks wakes up with a yip, her ears flattening to her head. I pet her, offering comfort, but she jumps off the bed to retreat to the corner. I ignore her low growl and look back to Tommy. My brow furrows as I watch him pace, his movements cumbersome at first, then slowly more fluid. "Tommy? Are you OK?" I slide off the bed, approaching him tentatively. "Sir?" I add, in case I've displeased him. His gaze lands on me, depth-less and almost oppressive. I shrink back slightly as he reaches out, his hand settling solidly on the back of my neck. Pulling me closer, he says my name, the three syllables sounding harsh and alien from his lips. The close proximity makes my nose wrinkle, the powdery scent of Tommy's flesh becoming overwhelming.

From the corner, Gadzooks begins barking, the sound sharp and staccato in the otherwise silent room. I open my mouth to shush her, quickly closing it again as Tommy turns his harsh glare to the dog. His eyes seem to burn with a frightful strength, sending Gadzooks running from the room with her tail tucked tightly between her legs. Without looking back to me, Tommy's hand tightens its grasp, sliding against my skin and under my collar. He fingers the charm dangling against my throat, face turning and eyes settling on the inscription. I keep my body still, wary of rousing a temper in him and glad that there are no visible signs of my anxiety. As he traces his thumb over the words, his mouth tightens into a straight, stern line. Elevating his gaze to my face, his eyes bore into my own. Anxiety breeds terror as Tommy chants in another language, gesturing in the air with his free hand. I try to pull back but his grip is firm. Feeling some supernal force pull at me, I strike out at him, knocking his hand away and swiping my nails across his face. He curses, almost taciturn, turning his face from my view as I make space between us.

Safe on the other side of the room, the bed a barrier between Tommy and I, I spit out "What the...what the fuck, Tommy?!" He turns to face me, strips of his flesh hanging from his visage. My hand slaps across my mouth, my expression aghast. Under the torn flesh, shades of deathly pallor show through. His skin seems to hang loosely, as if knocked askew from his body. My gut churns, dread seeping from my very pores. "...no. No, please.." He reaches up, hooking his fingers under the shredded flesh and peeling it back. Tommy's face distorts as the sinews stretch and tear. Under the mask of skin, the face is corpse-like and impassive, the eyes staring into mine as he continues to slough off flesh. Tommy's scalp is drawn back, exposing long dark hair greased down with reddish fluid. Crawling over the bed, Bernito tosses the remains of Tommy's face onto the floor, his own features exposed through a layer of gore. The skin gathered around his neck puddles and sags as he lurches closer. I retreat until my back hits the wall, terrified tears trailing down my cheeks. Petrified, I can't even grow my claws as Bernito closes in. He reeks of dirt and viscera as his hand closes around my throat once more. I grab halfheartedly at the appendage, my hands unable to gain purchase as his skin slips loosely over the muscle underneath. He resumes chanting, and I shriek through my constricted airway as my soul is ripped from my body.

The Master wakes me up with her sounds. She's scared again. Scared bad. She hasn't been scared for awhile, and she is again. It smells so bad. My Master's claws are long, and I hide from them. I move to the Man, my tail and ears low. He is scary and mean, but my Master needs him. Master would be sad if I wake her and make myself hurt. I push my muzzle at the man, whining at the cold feeling on my nose. My Master moans and groans, making pain sounds. I match the sounds with my whine, and put my teeth on the Man's hand. He moves his hand a little, so I bite. His hand hurts when it hits at me, but my Master's scream hurts us both. The Man sits up, worried for my Master. He touches her, says her name, and I wag nervously. She wakes up, and her face is animal scared. Prey scared. I jump from the bed, cowering as she screams at the Man. He says more words to her, says her name more. He touches her and her scream hurts my ears. My Master's claws hurt the Man, and I whine at the smell of blood, fear and bad dog.

My shriek is loud enough to hurt my own ears, but I know he's still here. There's a quick and graceful movement at the side of the bed, and gun in hand, Bernito glares at me through Tommy's visage. My lips draw back from my teeth in a snarl as he stows away his gun, offering his open hands in supplication. "What's wrong little one?" His voice is full of pseudo concern that enrages, rather than assuages.
Terrified, I shriek at him. "I'm not going back to what I was!" I hear Gadzooks whimper from the floor as I move with unnatural speed and rake my claws across his face, wanting to expose the monster for who he really is. Bernito falls back, hitting his head against the wall and sliding down to slump ungainly to a sitting position. He lifts his left hand, covering the gaping wound. I stop in the midst of drawing my hand back to swipe again, catching a familiar scent from the dripping claws. I bring them closer to my face, absorbing the unmistakable odor of Tommy's blood. Horrified at my actions, I lower my hand, compulsively wiping it across my shorts. Covering my mouth with my clean hand, I try to blink away the tears welling in my eyes. "Tommy? I...oh god. I thought....I thought you were him again." Tommy's face twists and distorts as his emotions churn between rage, confusion and concern. The tears spill over as I rip away a piece of my shirt, lowering to a kneel and holding the balled up fabric towards his face. "I'm so sorry...I dreamed that..." I can't force myself to speak the nightmare aloud. I open the link between Tommy's thoughts and my own, sharing the horror with him. He rises to his feet, opening his arms to me in a swift, decisive manner. I ignore his awaiting embrace, rising as well. Dabbing gently at the claw marks in his flesh, I whisper a endless flow of apologies. The torrent of conflicting emotions across his face frighten me, and I flinch as I quietly inquire, "Are you angry with me?" His expression seems to settle on disgust as I tend to his wounds. Dropping my eyes, I complete my task, wringing the bloody rag between my fists. "I'm sorry..." I repeat, to no response. "Do you need to...do you want some of my blood?" He places his hand at the back of my head without a word. I stare at the drops of red that fall and stain my socks, my voice growing desperate. "I could sleep in the bathtub if you'd rather..."

Tommy's expression is without change as he twists his hand into my hair, pulling me to the side of the bed. I move willingly, despite my trembling. A small, fruitless growl comes from the floor, and I silently hope that Tommy doesn't take his anger out on Gadzooks. He pushes me into the mattress, pressing my face against the sheets and gripping at my hip with his free hand. I remain quiet and complacent, knowing I deserve whatever punishment he deems necessary. I hear him calmly state, "I love you, little one." as he holds me in place. Mouth full of mattress, I don't respond as he continues, "I forgive you, little one. You can satiate me tomorrow morning, but I forgive you." 
His words bring a small, muffled whimper to my lips. Gadzooks discontinues her steady growl, seemingly just as placated. Tommy's hands release their grasp on me, and I can practically hear his fists clench. I straighten my stance and only glance at his face before flinching away. Climbing onto the bed, I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Risking another inquiry, but not willing to break the silence with my own prattling, I speak into Tommy's thoughts. "Will you come back to bed with me?"

Tommy replies, out loud, "In a moment. Just sleep." He leans a hand against the wall, the other pressed against his forehead.

I burrow into the blankets and whisper, "Yes...yes, sir." Gadzooks hops up onto the bed, curling into a ball by my feet. I watch Tommy from over the top of the covers as he stands, still, silent and stoic.

After a few moments, he lowers his hand from his face, wiping the blood from his palm onto the wall. He returns to our bed, laying stiff over the covers. His back and nape offer no comfort, and he does not move to face me. I stare at the back of his head, as my pillow grows increasing more damp. After awhile, maybe after he's fallen back asleep, I turn away from him. Gadzooks crawls unobtrusively further up the bed, nestling against my chest as I succumb to sleep and its torments once more.

https://youtu.be/C1AHec7sfZ8

I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons.

The smell of my new Master comes strong, and I follow it to a warm room. Nosing the door open, I see Master and the Man. They say words I don't understand, so I sit and wait to be wanted. My Master is strong and frightening, but she shows her belly to the Man. The Man commands her, and my Master submits as the Man offers his throat. My nose twitches and I smell the same food that the Master fed me earlier in the night. I'm hungry, and I breathe through my muzzle. They ignore me. The Man grabs my Master hard with his hands, and I can smell that she's afraid. My teeth show. Fear is sour. I am small and weak, but I want to protect my Master. Sniffing, sour mixes with sweet. She does not fight the man, despite her fear. She gives him affection. The smells make my nose sting. I whimper. They ignore me. I back away, towards a dark place with fabric that smells of dirt and blood and beast. Crawling under the fabric, I paw at my muzzle and wait to be wanted.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I look down at Tommy. He seems pleased, the wound on his throat healing as he whispers, "Good girl."
I kiss him lightly and move to my side of the bed. Glancing and sniffing towards the closet, I smile, even as my brow furrows. "Tommy?" I don't wait for his response. "Could she sleep in the bed with me? With...us?" My head tilts towards the sound of shuffling from the closet.
Tommy touches the collar buckled around my neck. "Of course, little one."
I smile, almost giddy as I call towards the closet door, "Gadzooks! C'mere girl, it's OK."
Distracted by his phone, Tommy offhandedly replies, "You named it?"
A small, furry form crawls out of a pile of clothing, a pair of stockings trailing behind it, wrapped around it's tail. "Well, yeah. She's gotta have a name..." I move to the edge of the mattress, patting the comforter next to me. "Up Gadzooks! Up!" 
She wags, coming closer and rising onto her hind legs, front paws pressing into the bed. My hand reaches out, hesitant at first as I expect her to flinch away. She doesn't and I scratch the white patch on her chest. "Good girl." Grasping her under her front legs, I pull her onto my lap. "Good girl Gadzooks, are you ready for bed?" Rambling, I continue, "You probably don't understand anything I'm saying. It's OK. I'll learn. I have Troy or MacAllister teach me how to talk to you."
Setting her onto the bed, I turn to Tommy, enthusiastically kissing him. "Thank you, Tommy. Thank you for her, thank you for everything..." I rest my head against his stone chest, closing my eyes and smiling as I feel Gadzooks curl warm and soft behind my knees.

My Master and the Man are asleep. It's cold, but I'm warm and the room is safe. I stay close to my Master as she sleeps. She moves and makes small noises in her sleep, but the Man stays silent and still. The room smells sour again, and I whine quietly. My Master moans. She's scared, sad, bad. I push my nose under her hand, but she pulls away. Panting nervously, I can't understand what my Master dreams. She says a name. Not Gadzooks. Not the Man. She says it again and I try to remember, try to smell something. My Master says the name again. She cries. The Man isn't awake, so I crawl forward and taste my Master's face. I lick the salt on her face and I try to remember the name so I can make my Master happy. So I can find who owns the name and make them make my Master happy. I lick her face and her hand grabs me and I'm afraid like when I saw the monster. But my Master is gentle and her eyes open. She is confused, not as sour, not as scared. She pets me and says my name. Her face is still sad. I lick her and press my muzzle against her. Her eyes are closing but she pets me and nuzzles my fur. The smells stop hurting my nose, and the room feels safe again. My Master sleeps. The Man sleeps. I stay awake and protect her.

https://youtu.be/lrEP3RPgEao

Sleep brings release and the hope of a new day. Waking the misery of being without you.

A steady breeze drags cool air across my huddled form, and I breathe in deeply, checking the wind for any sign that I'm not alone. There's nothing. Not even the smell of wildlife. Despite that small comfort, my back remains defensively pressed against the side of the house, my knees pulled against my chest. Staring down at the leaf covered driveway, I habitually twist a wrinkled tee shirt between my hands. The barest scent clings to the fabric. Just enough to clench at my heart when I bring the shirt to my face, pressing it gently to my cheek. I look to the spot where Tommy's Lincoln is usually parked. The panic that normally comes when he's not home is faint tonight, but I keep the link between our minds open and clear. Just in case.

The night sky is blocked out by the copse of trees and splintered roof. I glance up, seeing nothing but spider webs and wood. It's safer to stay on the porch, out of sight. Just in case.

My broken down Jetta sits in the same spot it's been for the past decade. The memory of Alex's fruitless labor to get it up and running for me is so strong that I can almost see him bent over the engine. I call out his name before I can help myself, the two syllables hanging in the air, unanswered. Sighing, I stretch my legs out in front of me, spreading the tee shirt across my lap. Reaching into the top of my boot, I pull out an iPod. A new model, sleeker and more modern than my own. My thumb grazes the screen, but I can bring myself to turn the device on. I want so badly to hear his voice again, even if only through the ramblings he recorded. But it won't be enough. I need to see Alex. Need to touch him. Need to talk to him.

My lip trembles and I make a mental note of how long I managed to go without crying tonight. I'd place it at at least an hour. Shame and sorrow run neck and neck in the battle of my emotions. I absently wipe a tear off of the iPod, smearing a streak of red across the screen. Holding the device with a gentle touch bordering on reverence, my voice is quiet as I speak down into my lap.

"I miss you, Alex. It's almost been a month..."

Trailing off, I glance around, paranoid. Satisfied that no one is looking or listening, I continue talking with no audience.

"It hasn't gotten any easier. Sailix said it will...one day. I don't think so. How can it? Every night it feels like my chest is being torn open. Every night when I realize you're never coming back..." 

My right hand creeps up to claw lightly at my chest, I push the appendage back into my lap with my left hand, holding it still.

"It's so hard to keep trying. To keep living. If it wasn't for...I don't think I could do it. I don't want to live, but I don't want to die. I just don't want to be."

I wipe more tears from the iPod screen, using my fingers to make a barrier to further protect it.

"I know you'd want me to try. That's the only reason I am. I'm not living for me, anymore. I'm living for you. And Tommy. And Sailix. And Pyotr. And MacAllister." I give a watery chuckle. "I'm sorry I'm doing such a shitty job of it. I know I should try harder. I need to. I need to take care of everyone. I can't...I can't lose. I can't lose anyone else. I won't."

Raising my head, I look around the woods again. Part of me expects to see Alex approaching, perhaps summoned by my very words. Or maybe Tybalt, with some harsh but true brotherly advice. Hell, I'd even take Mongrel with his new no nonsense attitude. I remain alone.

"It's not like...it's not like I expected a fairy tale ending. I knew there wouldn't be white picket fences and grandchildren. I just thought I'd have more time. Wished for it, I guess." Shaking my head, I ramble on. "Stupid of me. I never deserved you. So, I sure as hell didn't deserve to keep you."

I know I should get up. Put my stuff away and take care of myself. Stop talking to ghosts and memories. I feel wasted. Used up. Like the small trip from the bedroom to the porch and my subsequent speech to no one exhausted every reservoir of strength I have.

"Gosh, I miss you Alex. I wish I..."

I hear a car approaching. I pull my knees back to my chest, claws growing in brief terror. A second passes and I recognize the sound of the Lincoln's engine. Sheathing my claws, I stow away the iPod and use the shirt to clear my face of tears. I stand, hanging the shirt over the railing and making an attempt at a welcoming smile as headlights illuminate the front yard. The muscles in my face begin to ache before Tommy is even out of the car. Regardless, I try to look calm and sane. Something to make him proud. I try to look...better.

Better. Heh.


https://youtu.be/GVP5gJBmRtA

If I could end this waking dream, escape through a scream and feel I'd won some way.

For the first time in over a week, I venture from the confines of my bedroom. My bare feet make little noise in the hallway as I creep down the stairs, following the sound of light orchestral music. Tommy is in the den, humming along with the stereo. His expression is one of pleased surprise as he sets eyes on me. He beckons me to him with open arms. "It's good to see you on your feet, little one." I glance nervously towards the shuttered windows, before crossing the room to embrace him. He kisses the top of my head and asks if I'm hungry. I say no, only slightly lying to him. If he disbelieves my reply, he doesn't let on to it as he releases me and moves into the kitchen.


I watch him for a moment, before turning my attention towards the door. Last time I walked through it, I was dying. Ignoring the shudder that passes through my body, I swing the front door open and step out onto the porch. The night is quiet, and so are the surrounding woods. The air is significantly cooler than even a week ago. Tentatively, I settle onto the splintered top step and stare up at the sky, my head feeling fractionally clearer. My heart still aches for Alex, and even as I think his name my hand creeps to my chest, picking lightly. I force my hands to my sides, pressing them flat on the step. No amount of pain, no suffering or wallowing will bring him back. Ignoring the tinge of red in my vision and the tremble in my lips, I think to my family, likely worrying themselves sick without word from me. Making up my mind to go over to the fort, I pause as I'm turning to call through the door to Tommy.


I hear a dull buzzing sound, and stiffen in panic, my mouth snapping shut like a trap. Turning my head to the side, I pray it was just my overactive imagination. The buzzing continues, and my fear grows at the faint sound of engines approaching. I smell them. I'd never forget their scent. It still seems to cling to long since healed wounds. My throat doesn't seem to work as I attempt to call out to Tommy, to warn him, to tell him to run. I reach my thoughts to his, sending a stream of pure terror as I see the headlights from the convoy bouncing between the trees. Tommy rushes out onto the porch. "Madelyn, what is it? What's the matter?"
With a shaking hand, I point towards the path, at the oncoming vehicles. "It's the hunters. Tommy...they've come back for me. You have to run..." I stand and push at his chest. "You have to run! They'll kill you...like Alex...Tommy, please!"
He stands his ground, his hands gesturing in the air. "I won't leave your side, little one." He begins chanting in Italian, and I shudder as several wraiths manifest in the yard. Tommy stands stalwart as the drone buzzes high about the roof and the cars approach.


Just by my heightened senses, I can tell there are many more of them than last time. My instincts tell me to flee with Tommy at my side, but instead I square my shoulders, grow my claws, and face the enemy with courage I don't feel. The cars pull into plain sight, and from my spot on the porch I hear a gruff voice from behind the dark windows of an SUV. "Kill the man. Capture the monster."
For a moment, all is silent and still. Then the doors begin to open and the bullets begin to fly. I leap in front of Tommy, taking a burning round of ammo in my shoulder. He shouts something at his wraiths, and they converge on the nearest group of hunters. Over the sound of screaming, I hear a shouted prayer. I clench my jaw, resisting an urge to run. The wraiths seem to shrink away from the praying individual, fleeing in separate directions. Tommy growls under his breath, and gestures towards the man. His body drops unconscious. More bullets fly out, and I let out an cry of rage as Tommy is hit. He pulls out his own gun, as I run full force off the porch, leaping onto one of the men and knocking the shotgun from his hands. My claws rip and tear, and I barely notice the several shots that hit their mark as the man's cohorts attempt to defend him. I hear Tommy's gun going off from his spot on the porch, and hear the thump as a body hits the dirt.


More blood is shed, and the offensive numbers don't seem to be thinning. Feeling my strength waning, I rip my teeth from a throat and push my thoughts to Tommy, imploring once more that he save himself. There's no response, and I turn towards the porch, my movement freezing. Tommy lay prone and torpid, two of the hunters training their rifles on him and watching me silently. "No!" I release the corpse in my grasp, panic overcoming me. As if by unspoken command, the men that are still standing step back, and I hear the gruff voice from inside one of the cars again.
"Stop fighting us, and we will not kill him. Let us take you, and the priest can live."
I keep my eyes on Tommy's unresponsive face, wanting his guidance and receiving none. I ache, both body and mind. I know that fighting further will just end up with the both of us as piles of ash. As if confirming my fears, one of the hunters cocks his gun. "Tick tock, vampire." Ignoring the hateful tear that traces down my cheek, I lower my hands, my claws retracting back into my fingertips. Several of the men surround me, guns at the ready. Two take my arms and without a moment's hesitation, a wooden stake is jammed into my chest. I'm frozen, subdued, and unable to do anything but scream inside my own head as the hunters on the porch fire at Tommy, reducing his body to dust. There's no fight or struggle as they throw me into the back of one of the SUVs. Facedown, I see nothing but the immaculately clean floor mats as the car begins moving. Unable to face the horror I've seen, and the horror that likely awaits me, I force myself into a defensive unconsciousness.


When I awaken, my expectations of a dark bedroom and Tommy's comfort are quickly quashed. The room reeks of antiseptic and sterility, the lights are painfully bright. I'm no longer staked or paralyzed, but I feel weak and low on blood. Moving gingerly, I touch the wall that my body is propped up against. It's solid, impossibly so. I get a vision of the rooms construction, and know that it was built to be inescapable, even by supernatural means. Through the chemical stink, I catch the scent of other Kindred. The north wall has a translucent stretch of thick glass. I strike my fist against it, and am greeting by nothing but pain. Through the glass, I see a corridor with similar rooms. In the one directly across from mine is a vampire with dusty, almost gray skin. Hairless and wide eyed, his thin lips pull back from his teeth in a fixed grimace. He meets my gaze with little interest, staring up at the wall of his own prison. In a cell next to the gray skinned man, a muscular, red haired woman lay face down on the tile. Her face is obscured, but I can see thick black claws and light scaling on one of her splayed out hands.


I back away from the glass with a whimper, settling into one of the room's corners and curling my knees to my chest. The feel of terror and desperation pull at me, and I fight to keep myself from floundering into a fugue. For the first time in a week, I reach out to Sailix's mind. Nothing. No denial. No response. It's just dead air. Whimpering, I clench my arms tight around my knees and try to reach Pyotr. Again, there's nothing. I face similar failure when I try to reach MacAllister, Troy...even Noah. It's as if my mind has been blocked off from any and all familiar links. I'm alone. Pressing my face down and rocking slightly, I wait, whispering to myself. "Oh god, please someone help me.." I wait. Either for death, for release, or for the end of another nightmare.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5dVy4ikcbA

I can't keep going I feel my mind slowing, my heart's torn apart.

The bed springs creak as someone sits on the side of the mattress. I turn, roughly grabbing the hand that reaches for my shoulder. Warm skin and a familiar scent loosens my grip, and I gently intertwine my fingers with those of the reaching hand. "Ugh. Sorry. I was dreaming and...well, y'know how I am."
Alex smiles down at me, pulling our clasped hands to his lips and kissing my knuckles. "No, it's my fault. I just wanted to check on you."
I sit up slightly, stretching, testing my muscles for soreness. "I think I'm all healed up, finally. Everything feels normal." Pulling down the neckline of my shirt, I glance down at my chest. The skin is smooth, unmarred by wounds or holes.
Alex peers down my shirt, curiously. "Can I see?"
I move the fabric down further, before catching his smirk. "Yeah, see it's all...hey!" I push him away, scowling and fixing my neckline. "...perv." Alex snickers, and I pull him onto the bed with me, resting my head against his shoulder. "Have ya talked to Troy and them yet?"
Alex runs a hand through his hair, looking bothered. "Not yet. I got rid of the chip, but until I can clear everything up, I think it's better to lay low. Keep the Barony out of it."
I nod, his worry rubbing off on me. "This cut too close, Alex. Way too fucking close. You barely got away, and if it hadn't been for you and Tommy, I'd be..."
He kisses me, cutting off my words. "Don't even think like that. I'd never let anything happen to you. We're safe here." He sighs a little. "I still think Tommy is a fucking bastard, but...he really put his neck on the line for you. For us." His words bring me a sense of peace, and I snuggle closer to Alex with a pleased whimper, basking in his affection.

"I was so worried..." I confess, breaking the silence. "I thought I'd lost you, and...I don't know what I would have done. Things went badly enough as it is, but knowing you were here...that you ARE here, helping me through it." Pausing, I squeeze my eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I just...I love you Alex. You know that, right?"
There's no immediate reply. My brow furrows, and I turn towards his side of the bed. My hand touches nothing but a bare expanse of mattress. "Alex?" Sitting up, I push the comforter aside. Nothing. Looking around the room, it's empty, and I begin to panic. "Alex! Where did you go? Alex!" 

To my relief, the door swings open. My vision blurs slightly, not recognizing the dark haired figure in the hallway. I blink, and after a moment things make sense again. Alex approaches me, and takes me in his arms. Smiling, I rise on my toes to kiss him. "Sorry I freaked out. That shit on Saturday really has me on edge, heh." He grasps my hips and leads me over to a chair, pushing me gently into a sitting position. "What do you want to do for the rest of the night?" He retrieves a brush and begins pulling it carefully through my hair. My eyes close, and I revel in the blissful feeling of his hands smoothing and brushing. "Mm...we could play Sonic again. I know you're probably tired of it, but it's the only game I can actually beat you in." I fall silent as Alex's hands separate my hair into strands and begin braiding it down my back, tying a small bow at the bottom of the braid.

"Thank you for taking care of me..." I turn in the chair, opening my eyes and looking up. Tommy stares down at me, an expression of benevolence on his face. Confused, my hand creeps up, picking at the fabric of my shirt. "..Tommy?" A sharp sting of pain in my chest, as my nails grow to claws, working into the skin above my heart. "What is..." my words trail off, as I drop my gaze from Tommy's and turn back around in the chair. I stare at a spot on the wall until my eyes grow tired, barely noticing when Tommy picks me up and puts me back into the bed to sleep again.

https://youtu.be/N7akVgW52bQ

Nothing ever grows and the sun doesn't shine all day. Tried to save myself but myself keeps slipping away.

A slight whimpering comes from in between the folds of the blood smeared towel. The sound matches similar whining coming from a rectangular, wooden box on the hay strewn ground. I continue rubbing the struggling lump under the towel, until the whimpering seems to grow stronger. Parting the fabric, I grin as a small sable face pokes out, eyes and ears still closed. "Oh my gosh Dad, they're perfect!" I briskly bend down to the whelping box, placing the last puppy against his brothers and sisters who are already nursing from Kerrie. She seems to be grinning herself, panting lightly as she nudges her muzzle against my hand. I pet her before joining dad at the sink, taking the bar of Lava soap and scrubbing my hands.
He nudges me with his shoulder, smiling. "You really seem to have a knack for this, Maddie. Couple years in school, we'll be callin' you Dr. DeWittier."
Cleaning under my nails, I blush slightly and roll my eyes. "Nah. Not me. I'll probably take some typing classes, something to help me along until my dream husband comes along." 
Dad frowns at me, grabbing a towel and drying his hands. "Typing? Well, gosh. If I had known that, I wouldn't have been saving up for your veterinary schooling."
My mouth drops open, almost comically. The water runs into the sink as I gawp. "No way! You're pulling my leg. Mom already got me into that prep school, I thought..."
He shuts off the water and tosses his towel at me. "Your momma has a lot of notions about young women and their womanly duties." He puts an arm around my shoulders. "I know this is what you want to do, Maddie. I want you to do what makes -you- happy. Not your mom, not me, not that cute guy in your Home Ecs class."
"Daaaad," I grouse at his last comment. After a moment, I turn and hug him tightly. "This is really awesome. Truly." I stare over to Kerrie and her puppies. "I wish I could start classes now."
He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. "How about you get through prom and graduation first, kiddo. Deal?"

"Dad? Daddy? The dogs are running from me. They don't like me anymore."
The wood floor is cold, even to my frigid skin. I reach up, touching my hair where my dad kissed. Crawling over to the nightstand, I open up the single drawer and pull out a folded up newspaper clipping. It's old and creased, and I try my hardest not to let my tears spill onto the paper. I touch the faded picture of my family, the only tangible memory I have of them.
"I should have protected you better. I'm sorry. It's my fault, daddy."

My mourning is interrupted by yet another invasive prodding at my thoughts. I let out a keening wail, dropping my picture and pressing at my temples. I quickly climb back onto the bed, cocooning myself in the covers, rocking slightly in attempt to comfort myself. I think of my family. The yearning for Sailix, Pyotr and MacAllister's company not outweighing my terror at putting them in danger. "I'm sorry guys. OK? I'm not gonna let them get you. You're safe. You're all safe from me."

I swear I can hear the buzzing sound of the drone, and I fight to keep from slipping into hysterics. The engine of the ATV seems to rev in my mind. I ball up the sheets, biting down on the fabric to keep from screaming. I hear the gunshots ring out. Over and over. Alex goes down, but I pick him up. Over and over. I shield his body with mine, taking the bullets meant for him. He falls to ash. Over and over and over. I see the hunters storming the fort during the day. My brother, my father and my friend, prone and helpless as they're executed in their own haven. No. Please. My claws shred at the mattress. I know it's not real. It's not. None of it. And yet...and yet...

I spit the fabric from my mouth and scream.
"TOMMY! Tommy, please!"
Another day. Another night.

https://youtu.be/Q8LEheSUTGE

The news that truly shocks is the empty, empty page, while the final rattle rocks its empty, empty cage.

"If something happened to you..."

"I couldn't survive that."

I jolt awake, a moan escaping my lips. It's dark and I'm alone, my chest still throbbing dully from the healing wounds. Clenching the covers closer to my body, I ignore the pain and the hunger gnawing at my gut and attempt to fall back into unconsciousness. There's a sharp jab in my head, at my thoughts. The feeling of someone trying to reach me. Having barely enough energy to fight off the feeling, I turn my face into the pillow, crying out as I paw at my skull like a bee-stung dog. "Get out, please. Leave me alone." My words are quiet and muffled. I turn my ear to the door, hoping Tommy didn't hear me stirring from down the stairs. I squeeze my eyes shut and feel around on the mattress. There's nothing but rumpled sheets and a comforter. Growing panicked, I resist the urge to call out for help. I reach carefully over the side of the bed, hesitant, as if something from underneath could grab at my searching hand. My fingers scrabble at the wooden floor until they touch soft fabric. I sigh in relief as I bring the shirt up onto the bed with me, rubbing it against my cheek and breathing in the faint scent from the cloth. Smiling slightly, I turn to face the wall and squeeze my eyes shut against the flow of tears.

"You know, the more I love you, the more I grow terrified of when you actually leave me."

A phone rings in the dark room, unheard by the restless figure tangled in the sheets. Madelyn's hand stretches out to grasp at thin air, and she sobs aloud in her slumber. As the phone reaches its last ring, the bedroom door opens and a block of light illuminates the room. Thomas enters, his eyes showing concern in an otherwise stoic visage. He reaches down to carefully adjust the tangled blankets, disregarding the Malkavian's pained moan at his touch. Madelyn remains asleep, face pressed into a pillow already stained red with her tears. Thomas retrieves her cell phone from the nightstand, turning off the device and stowing it in his pocket. He leaves the room with one last pitying glance at his ward.

"I will always be here for you, for as long as I am in existence...please always know that, Madelyn. I will never willingly leave you forever. Death is the only thing that's going to keep me away.."

For the fourth, fifth, or possibly only the first time this week, I'm awoken by the sound of my own shrieks. I feel a slight sting as a bullet hole in my shoulder knits itself closed, and my mouth grows parched with hunger. Clawing at the sheets, I howl Alex's name, over and over. I hear the door open, and Tommy speaking in a calming tone, even over my own screams. I swipe at the priest, pushing him away as he draws near my bed. Tommy holds his stance, even as I fight him like a wild animal. With a long suffering expression, he pulls out a small pocket knife and slices a gash into his own flesh. Desperate and starved, I grab at his arm and latch onto the wound, drawing his sustenance into myself. As I drink, he seats himself on the mattress and I crawl into his lap. Refusing to look into his eyes, I sate my hunger, curling against him and staring blankly at the wall. Alex's face stares back at me, everywhere I look.

"I wish so badly that we could be normal...somewhat normal. Normal for us...like, if I thought we wouldn't burn the white pickets down, I'd love to live that stupid suburb life with you."

The lights twinkle in the trees and laughter trails over from one of the tables. Alex and I spin under the stars, and I can't help but giggle as he trips on the train of my dress. I kiss him lightly, "Just let me lead, k?" He scowls at me, "Ugh. Dancing, suits...can't we just spend the wedding reception playing Sonic?" My giggle turns into a full laugh, and his returned smile spreads warmth throughout my chest. 

Another night, and my chest is on fire, even after Tommy pulls my hand away. My claws are dripping with gore, the color matching the furrows in my flesh. He alerts me that it's time for another bath, ignoring my steady weeping and half-hearted struggles as he lifts me into his arms. He takes me to the bathroom, setting me on the toilet as he fills the tub, just like the night he called me home. Removing my dirty and torn clothing, Tommy places me in the water, retrieving a washcloth and cleaning me as I cry. The routine brings me little comfort. My fingers creep back up to my chest, scratching at the flesh, attempting to reach the root of my pain. He swats my hand away, almost absently, and I stare up him with begging eyes.

"Tommy. You can bring him back, right? Like you did with me? You can bring Alex back like you brought me back...."

Pressing my hands against my temples, I don't hear his answer, the agony from speaking of Alex's demise aloud forcing my thoughts far away, to a quieter place.

https://youtu.be/gYJwYjanCRQ

Death is no dream, for in death I'm caressing you.

Boots slamming into the dirt, my knees buckle slightly as I leap from the tree. I don't hesitate, even as more shots fly past me. Even as another bullet lodges itself in my shoulder. Even as my fists clench around the remains of my love, my heart. My Alex.


No. Can't break down. Can't do it now. Please. Let me be strong enough.


I drop into Obfuscate and run for my life. The buzzing whine of the drone continues, still above me, but falling back. The sound of the ATV seems to be heading in the opposite direction. Concentrating only enough to reach to Tommy's thoughts, I speak a name and quickly cut off the connection. Weak from pain and blood loss, I push myself to keep running, unconsciously keeping far from my own haven, making enough distance between myself, the Hunters and anyone I love who could get caught in the crossfire. I clench my jaw against the howl of agony that threatens to immolate me from the inside out. The woods are now far behind me, and I head towards a populated neighborhood, sniffing the air to find an unoccupied house.


I crawl through a broken window, choking down the smell of mildew and stagnant air. Making a beeline for the bathroom, I slam the door behind me, turning the thumb lock. A pathetic effort of security. Collapsing into the bathtub, I curl into a ball, gasping and cowering against the tub floor. Terrified, despite the lack of pursuit. The smell of blood and ash and death clings to the scraps of my clothing. With clenched fists, I pull the shower curtain from its rings and ball it up, burying my face in the fabric. My shrieks are muffled, but barely. Pounding my fists, I feel the porcelain begin to shatter under my body. I press my lips together hard, forcing the scream back down my throat. Unable to control the needless gasping, I pull my battered form into a sitting position. My hands lay clenched in my lap, and I muster my last force of will to open them.


The sound of skateboard bearings were loud enough to hear even over my blaring iPod. The momentum of the wheels slow as they approach me. My right hand falls to my side, fingers pointed towards the knife in my boot, just in case. I slip my headphones from my ears, sniffing and turning cautiously towards the stranger at my side. He's tan, dark haired, and probably around my age. His scent is a weird mix of human and vampire. My hands relax, stowing into my hoodie pockets. We make casual small talk, and when he makes a flirtatious joke, my easy smile grows almost embarrassed. I rub at my cheek, at the blush that doesn't grow there, with an open palm.


My palms lay open in my lap, and in each is a small mound of ash. All that is left of my Alex. I move my hands so that the influx of tears don't splash into them. I still feel the phantom weight of his body in my arms, and the unburdening as the last bullet tore through him. My mind feels hollow without the comfort of his thoughts. I need him. I need him. Alex, please. I need you.


With the utmost care, I gently pour his ashes onto the jutting soap dish. My hands shake and I pull off the shreds of my shirt and the obliterated vest underneath. My flesh is riddled with holes. Gritting my teeth, I grow my claws and dig them into a hole in the middle of my chest. Under the damaged muscle, I feel a small fissure in my sternum. Staring ahead, tears still trailing down my cheeks, I snap several ribs. My pained moan echoes in the tiled room. Shaking my head slightly, I pull my knife from my boot, and without hesitation, dig the tip into my unbeating heart. More blood spills, as I carve a small pocket in the useless organ, and drop the knife into my lap. Wiping my hands on the shower curtain, I retrieve the pile of ashes from the soap dish. I curl my fingers closed, speaking aloud in a watery tone.

"I'm so sorry, Alex. I'm sorry I didn't do more. I should have...I should have tried harder...done more to save you. I should have died in your place..."
My words dissolve into brief sobbing, and I concentrate on the throb of pain in my chest to stem my tears. "I love you. All my life, I've never loved anything more."
I take the handful of ashes, and with the precision of a surgeon, place them in the wounded pocket of my heart. Willing the scant bit of blood in my system to the area, I heal the organ and surrounding bone. My head falls back against the tile, the tears drying on my face. I feel the pull of unconsciousness, and struggle to fight it off. I can't fall asleep here. They could find me. Anyone could find me. I'd yearn for the bliss of death such a situation would bring, but I know there's no peace. Not even then. Not ever.


Weakened and agonized, I muster enough energy to stumble from the tub and the house. I peer through the dark back yard, and drag myself to a small crop of bushes and trees. Forcing my bloody hands into the dirt, I dig steadily until the hole is sufficient. Dropping into the ground, I pull the dirt back in around me and settle into the earth. The silence, the pain and the loss bring about a sense of nostalgia. Before the decade old memory can fully resurface, I fall into a dreamless sleep.




https://youtu.be/KUCyjDOlnPU

Now you're in my world, did you dream it be so small? My little box was perfect, 'till you destroyed it all.

As is too often lately, my quest to feed turns into mindless wandering. Headphones tucked into my ears, I pull the hood of my sweatshirt up and meander deep into the woods. There's no movement or sound among the trees, and I almost feel guilty for disturbing the wildlife. I'm grateful that the only voice in my head is my own, and eventually I begin to hum along with the music, staring down at my feet as I walk. Lost in my thoughts, it's not too long before I get the distinct feeling of being watched. More curious than concerned, I glance up and see nothing amiss. My gaze turns to the sky, and I notice small flock of crows roosting in the highest branches of a pine. Over the sound of music and my own humming, I hear a gasp, then a disturbingly familiar voice spitting out a curse. After a second, I hear the voice again and my heart drops into my gut.

"... M-Mad... that you?"

I jump as if the voice shouted, and pull my headphones out, letting them dangle towards the ground. Blinking a few times, my emotions churn from hostile, to sad, and seem to settled on resigned. I rub at my forehead, knowing I'm in for a mentally exhausting episode. I look towards the direction of the voice, and reply in a subdued tone.
"OK. Guess I should have expected something like this..."
Yellow eyes, blonde hair, tan coat...everything is the same as Mongrel drops his Obfuscate and takes a tentative step out from behind a tree. Even the Desert Eagle is the same, pointed directly at my chest. His teeth are bared in an angry smile, "I could say the same. I don't know who you are but either you're a figment of my fucked up imagination, or you're at the wrong end of a sick joke... and I'm going to enjoy peeling your skin off in strips." His voice becomes more of a bestial growl as his claws began to sprout.
Sighing lightly, I absently retrieve my headphones, wrapping the cord around my iPod and safety stowing it in my pocket. Pulling my hood down, I shrug and avoid the illusion's eyes. "If that's what I need. I just wish...could you not look like him? It's too.." I breathe in through my nose, my head cocked to the side as I'm assaulted with the smell of clove and cinnamon. "..too fucking realistic."
He snarls, "Too realistic? Too realistic for -you-? Oh, this is fucking real alright, GHOST BITCH! C'mon, let's go! If you're gonna wear her face at least try to act like her! I've had about enough of you." He slips the pistol into its holster at and shrugs off his coat, the joints in his arms and neck clicking and groaning as his physical frame expands slowly. He becomes steadily covered in thick coarse fur, eyes glowing a bright yellow. His voice is vastly deeper, distorted and monstrous, "Throw another tree at me if you have to. I've learned some new tricks. This ends tonight. My Maddie is dead."

I breathe in again as he says the words "my Maddie". My eyes wide and confused under a furrowed brow. "Throw a tree?" A sort of recognition crosses my mind, and I bring my hand to my mouth, remembering my actions during the steady slide of insanity less than a year ago. "Nooo...no, this can't be.." I step closer, unconcerned by his monstrous transformation. Sniffing deeply I let out a pained moan. "...Mongrel?"
He watches me, hesitating, something like doubt in his furious glowing yellow eyes but he howls up at the sky, "HOW DARE YOOOOOOOOUUUUU!" Drool slides from his elongating jaw as he scrutinizes my smaller form. His arm pulls back as if to claw at me, but instead scrapes deep furrows off a nearby tree trunk. I flinch away, more from the echo of his raised voice, than his actions. Undaunted, I move forward, reaching my fingers towards his heaving chest. He growls, pulling away slightly. My gaze tics back and forth manically, taking in his transformation. Despite the underlying fear, I'm almost hurt by his reaction to my approach. Nevertheless I meet his eyes, pressing my palm flat against his skin.
"Fuck...oh...fuck.." My voice is agonized, and I blink rapidly, struggling to keep my vision clear as I remember every painful detail. Following Mongrel. Torturing him. Tormenting him. Mad with grief and delusion, trying to push him enough so that he'd feel even a fraction of the pain I felt when he abandoned me. My hand trembles as the truth sinks in.

Mongrel shudders at my touch and his eyes instantly soften, painfully so. His garbled bestial voice tries to sound out my name, "MRRAA--MAARRGGG. MAAAD--". Jerking in pain, his form reverts suddenly, my hand now pressing against a loose torn tank-top and his chest as he fights to maintain balance after the change, "....oh just kill me already," he laments as he slumps to his knees. I watch him fall, bringing the hand that was on his chest to my nose. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the scent on my fingertips, my expression almost blissful. Just as quickly, I shake my head in attempt to clear it, and carefully kneel in front of him. Pressing my lips together, I place my hands on my knees and try to catch his eyes. He returns the gaze and manages a decent glare, "Yannoh, for a hallucination, you're pretty darn stubborn." I frown slightly, and he quirks a brow, "Are you... smelling me?"
Nodding my head, almost guiltily, my words come out in a ramble. "I keep some of those essential oil things so I can always recognize your scent.." I trail off, embarrassed, feeling confused again. "Are you really real?"
He groans, the sound seems to cut into me like a blade. "Unfortunately. Are...you?" He watches me closely.
I roll the question around in my thoughts, unable to keep the unsureness from my answer. "Yeah?" I have to be real, and if I'm real, and he's real. "Oh god...if this is.." My hand reaches out, as if to touch him again. I pull it away instead, and cover my face. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."
My apologies continue unabated, my face still hidden behind my hands.

I feel his arm slide around my shoulders, rubbing my arm gently. "Hey... hey... it's alright. I'm not gonna peel your skin off or anything, that was mostly bravado. We're good here... um..." The feel of his touch, and his voice so close to me...I drag my hands away and stare up at him in disbelief. "How can you...after all I..." I place just the tips of my fingers on his cheek, struggling to formulate a full sentence. "If you wanted to hurt me, for revenge...I would understand."
He tilts his head and regards me, something of a smile forming on his lips, "If you were her, you would know precisely why I could never do that."
His continued denial of my identity gnaws at me, and I halfheartedly snap at him. "God damn it, I am her! Me. I'm me. Stop being all sensible and...Mongrely."
He shakes his head in wonder, "You even sound like her now. I really am losing it." He sighs and draws his knees up, releasing his hold on me to prop himself up, "You spend too much time around Malks they start rubbing off on you... that's what they said. Now look at me." He chuckles to himself sadly, "This is a nice change of pace though. I get to talk to her for a minute before you start hitting me with things. Thanks, I guess."
I huff out a needless breath, just as exasperated with his words as I am with the void I feel our lack of contact. "I'm not going to hurt you. I never should have in the first place." Staying down on my knees, I drop my gaze to the dirt. "I was hoping. I was really hoping that out of anything...that part wasn't real. 'Cause if I actually did all that stuff, actually hurt you..." Wrapping my arms around myself, my next words are just louder than a whisper. "I really am a fucking monster."

He seems unconcerned by my response, idly brushing dirt from his pants."This has been a great chat and everything but last I checked, you're dead and I'm insane so this has to give, one way or another. Maddie is dead." I flinch again as he stands up, his eyes losing their light and his voice growing solemn. "Sasa will find me eventually. I'm not big on vengeance but that's his whole shebang so if you dust me now, be prepared to have an OCD Assamite on your ass all the way into the next century. Let me tell you--one time I used the towels in the bathroom and didn't put them back the 'right' way, the lad nearly had a fit."
I snort laughter at his comment, despite my distress. Putting my hands at my sides, palms up, I simply gaze up at Mongrel. "I'd try to prove I'm real, but I left my notebook at the Barony. I get kind of fuzzy about stuff without it."
He chuckles with my laughter, before his palm slams into my throat, lifting me from the ground and securing me in a crushing grip. I don't struggle or fight, even as his lips twist into a maddening smile. "I wasn't kidding around about the 'insane' bit. I'm not exactly 'all there' anymore. You wanna see something scary? Take someone and systematically destroy everything they love... -twist- it a little. You wanna see scary, take me. I'm not entirely myself these days but I won't let anyone else on, now will I? No. You show anyone enough of what I've seen and tell them to carry on, most will seek cool metal against the temple but not me... I... can't. You took a perfectly good Gangrel and you BROKE IT. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?" He shakes me a bit, like a limp rag dog, before dropping back to the dirt. I cower there, subdued and submissive. My chest hitches, and I try and fail to hold back a sob. "I know. I know." I swipe the back of her hand against the welling moisture in my eyes, almost angrily. "...I told you. I always told you and everyone that I'm poison and..and bad...and and..."

My voice is wavering and unsteady, and the words I've repeated so many times to so many loved ones seem to burn as they pass my lips. "I tried, Mongrel. I tried so hard.."
His voice is loud, and over his words I hear the crows chatter and ruffle their wings in the tree above us. "YOU BROKE IT. YOU BROKE... me." He kneels before me, eyes rimmed with red tears, "There was a point, Maddie, when you were everything I loved. I... I know that wasn't really you in the woods before. If it was, I know it wasn't your choice. I forgive you. What I can't forgive is you not letting me know you were alive. Were you ever dead? Explain. Explain to me this HELL you put me through. Please. You owe me that much at least."
His words wound, and I hiss my pain through clenched teeth. "You broke me too, god damn it!"  My voice sounds petulant, almost sulky. "Even when I stopped being your everything, you were still mine. Whatever happened to me that night with the Sabbat..." I pause, clenching my fists and refusing to look at him. "...obviously being dead was more preferable to living without you." As many times as I spoke them to myself, the words sound ten times more pathetic spoken aloud.
His brow wrinkles in fury, "How.... how could you even think that?"
"Gosh. I dunno. It's almost like I'm fucking crazy." Despite the flippancy of my response, a tear courses down my cheek. I wrap my arms around myself, desperate for comfort.
"Mad, " he whispers, "I didn't know you... felt like that."
A little voice whispers in my mind...liar liar, he knew all along. He didn't care... I speak over the dissent of my thoughts."I love..." my voice catches, "..ed you. You were that one fucking tether...the one constant that I had. I've always been weak, Mongrel." I wipe at my face again, angered by the traitorous tears. "And in my defense, I only realized I wasn't dead-dead about four months ago.."

"I was rather convenient for you, wasn't I?" My eyes meet his, and his smirk is cruel, "I was always there for you, every fuck up I was ready to cover you. Naive little Mongrel groveling after you." He snorts, "So... you've been alive this entire time? Makes sense why none of our hedgewitch charms worked... you weren't a spirit."
I flinch, squeezing my arms tighter around myself, only managing two whispered words. "...I'm sorry."
His voice grows cold, "You know what?... You should be." Gathering his coat around his shoulders, he shrugs it back on, starting to walk away, "Stop using me as an excuse. Stop being weak. It is counter-intuitive to your survival. Madelyn, grow the fuck up. ...I forgive you." And with that he walks back towards the gravel driveway. I remain on the ground, in the dirt, without replying. My hand steals to my pocket, clutching around the iPod like it was a talisman. I can't force myself to look at Mongrel as he walks away. He footsteps stop, and after a moment I hear his voice again, tentative."Hey, um... I'm sure being dead and all you might need a refresher in, yannoh, not being dead-dead so.... Thursdays we do karaoke at The Post."
Still not looking up at him, I reply: "You don't have to...make niceties or whatever. I know my place. I'm not gonna force my way back into your life." My voice sounds hollow, deadened in my own ears. Full exhaustion, both mind and body, begins to take hold of me.
"Mad, " Mongrel chides, almost genially, "you smacked me with a tree... among other things. You kinda owe me. Besides, it'll be good for ya." He chuckles and tosses something in my direction. "Hey, I'm glad you're probably not a hallucination. I've missed you." He footsteps move away again.

I hear the door slam and the engine start up, just like over a decade ago when he left me the house and left me alone. There's a weird gasping sound coming from somewhere, and it takes me a minute to realize that I'm still drawing in deep breaths of air, trying to keep Mongrel's scent from leaving my senses. My hands are idly clawing furrows in the dirt, and with the deep set ache in my chest and gut, I'm surprised when it's not bits of my insides that I'm pulling from the ground. My legs give no sign of wanting to support me enough to stand. Cursing aloud, I fight the urge to call for help from Tommy or Sailix or Alex.

Alex. 

Summoning his face into my thoughts, I force myself to my feet. Pausing to grab the printed card Mongrel tossed to me, I stow it in my pocket next to my iPod and make tracks back to Crownsville. The trip is a steady blur, and when I finally make it to the fairgrounds, the sky is lightening. I stare towards the horizon, where the sun has yet to cross. Exhausted, swaying on my feet, I make sure my face is clean of any residual tears before making my way to me and Alex's room. He speaks to me as I enter, concerned, possibly angry...I avoid his eyes and pull my sweatshirt off, ignoring the scent that lingers in the fabric. Crawling onto the futon, my voice is quiet and almost frightened as I raise my eyes to his.
"Hold me? Please?"
Much like the first night I asked him to stay with me, he climbs onto the mattress, pulling me to his chest. I close my eyes and bury my face against his warm skin. My thoughts are like a mantra, despite quickly approaching slumber.
Please don't ever leave me, Alex. Please don't ever leave me. I can't ever lose you. Please don't leave me.
It's only in the moment that I fall into my daily torpor, that I realize that I'm begging aloud.

https://youtu.be/HTzvwXJhxXw

Louder than ever, help me remember.

My face is buried in my hands, a wasted effort, because I still see Alex's lifeless body in Sailix's arms. The image seems burned into my retinas, haunting me without respite. From the other side of the car, I hear his voice, unsteady but existent as he speaks in a low tone to Troy. The sound should comfort me. Assuage me. He's alive. He's alive. But at what cost? Dragging my hands away from my eyes, I look over to Sailix leaning against the hood of Troy's car, his expression almost shell-shocked. The mauled side of his face is turned towards me, reminding me how close to losing it I came. Out loud, I laugh at my own use of past tense, the brief sound quickly turning to a quiet sob.

He saved Alex when you didn't. When you you couldn't. When you wouldn't.
Wouldn't?! He didn't want me to! He didn't want my blood. Didn't want me to turn him.
Haven't you proven that was the better choice on his part?

I clamp my hand over my mouth, fighting down the scream that wants to tear from my throat. A scream that seems to be echoed in my thoughts, the tone contrasted with my own. There was never a worse time to leave Alex, but I've never needed to more. There's too much, and I can't. I have to get this out of me, before I hurt someone else that I love. Sailix is still lost in his own thoughts, and I'm grateful for his distraction. Alex stands a distance away, bloodied, burned, but alive. Troy holds his attention and I make myself fade from sight before I grow too weak to walk away from them.

Walk away. Ha.

I move North, ignoring the smack and snap of branches against my skin as I run through the woods. I'm thankful that my feet know the way, as my eyes are too blurred with red to see clearly. My own home and its current inhabitant call to me as I pass near. I drag myself further, to a ramshackle home hidden in a grove of trees. Slowing my pace as I approach the building, I wipe my eyes and climb the stairs to the front door. There's no sound from within, even as I turn the tarnished handle and enter, breathing in deeply through my nose. His scent is still potent, so much like mine.

He's still here. Well, of course! Where is he gonna go? He's young, and fresh, and nowhere near as strong as his Sire.

I shiver slightly, covering my mouth as if I said the words aloud. I make my way through the kitchen, down into the black, damp basement. The gun safe is still there, untouched and unopened. Standing in front of it, my eyes are wide, mouth still covered by my fingertips. My mind goes blank, and for a moment I'm unable to remember the young man's name. I recall leaving Alex before Elysium last night, him not even questioning my plans to go feed. Stealing a car. Driving to the nearest shopping mall. It was late enough so that the stores were closing, but not so late that employees weren't taking a quick smoke break in an empty service entrance. He was outside, alone, looking barely old enough to buy cigarettes. All spikes and piercings and a half shaved head. Almost pretty. If I wasn't about to be breaking my own moral code, I'd laugh at the cliche of it. Now, what was his name? Something biblical...

"Noah. That's it, right?"
There's no reply from the other side of the door. I frown slightly, wondering if I didn't mess this up somehow, if I'm going to open the safe door to a pile of ash or a corpse. I lightly rap my knuckles on the steel and hear a shuffle of movement from inside. My frown grows deeper, and I speak directly towards the thin crack of the door. "Are you purposely ignoring me? That's so...do you have any idea the kind of night I've been having?!" Punching a number into the keypad, I spin the handle and swing the door open. I can't help but let out an expectant laugh as the day old vampire comes careening out of the safe. His fist catches my jaw, following a glancing blow across my cheek. I quickly catch him by the scruff of the neck, holding him steady like a misbehaving puppy. He struggles, but his strength can't compare to mine. After a moment he stills, staring at me, his expression terrified. I feel a conflicting mixture of shame and pride, holding the boy before me. "Hey, sorry about laughing. It's rude, but I really didn't expect you to take after me this much." His lip quivers, and I feel his emotions as deeply as my own. I release my grip on his neck, holding both my hands out, palms forward, in a sign of pacifism. "It's ok, Noah. You can talk."

His voice is deep, mismatching his pretty looks. "Who are you? What did you do to me?" He rubs at his face in yet another familiar gesture. "I'm so hungry, and my head is so...noisy."
I smile in what I think is a comforting way, ignoring how he flinches away from me. Again, his fear and confusion are almost palpable."That's a thing. Comes with the territory....could you stop that?" He starts to speak, but the overwhelming emotion coming from him seems to fill both my thoughts and my ears. "...stop.." I mumble, my hand lashing out and knocking Noah to the ground. He cowers, which makes me more angry. "Stop! You're supposed to be strong! Like me!" I swing my foot into his ribs. To my astonishment, he chuckles through what sounds like a punctured lung.
"You're not strong. Didn't you come here because.." I feel him rifling through my thoughts. "..because you're worried about your boyfriend?!"
I cut off the link between our minds, stomping my boot down on his gut. His laughter turns into a groan of pain as he rolls onto his side. "You were supposed to fix this! You were supposed to fix him! That was the plan...I'd make you and hand you over and Alex could be OK again." 
Covering my face, I almost miss Noah as he lurches to his feet and attempts to escape me. My fingers grip into his shoulder, nails digging in as I push him towards the safe. He glances into it's depths, before turning to me and begging. "No...please don't make me...please don't put me back in there!" I look away from him, hiding the guilt in my expression as I shove him back into his personal prison.

The slam of the safe door muffles Noah's pained shrieks, but only fractionally. I press my forehead against the cold steel, squeezing my eyes shut. "Shhh. Shhh. It's OK. It'll get better. It gets better."
My palms hit the door, shaking the safe. I hear the boy hit the inside wall, desperate for escape. But his screams are no comfort to me. "No! No! It doesn't...it doesn't get better. Why didn't it? Why didn't it help me, Noah? I can't...I can't.." There's no reply other than muffled sobbing that echoes my own. I fall to the ground, curled in a ball in front of the safe. There's nothing. No comfort. I led the people I loved into danger. I attacked my best friend. Alex almost died. Alex did die. Alex is alive, and breathing, and living, and I can't...

My thoughts reach out to a close and familiar mind. The one I've wanted most, and avoided just as much."Please. Please, Tommy. I need you. I need you now. Please."
Waiting for either Tommy's response or refusal, I remain curled, groveling on the ground, my own cries drowning out those of my childer locked in the safe.


https://youtu.be/qnEFQ5r1nBM

Waking up good morning to you, my dear. I'm waking up enduring my biggest fear.

The clatter of something hitting the ground jars me out of whatever fugue I fell into. On the floor next to me is the fallen X-Box controller. On the tv screen some armored up cat creature is getting mauled by a walrus looking thing. I glance behind me at Alex. He's sprawled out, eyes closed, hand dangling off the edge of the futon. Rubbing my own eyes, I check the time on one of the lit up computer screens in the room. It's about an hour until dawn, and he's already fast asleep. Grabbing the controller, I rise to my feet, placing it on a table and turning the console and tv off. As gently as I can manage, I move Alex's hand, so it's resting next to him. He rolls onto his back, mumbling something about tacos, and I smile. Staring down at him, the small smile on my lips fades as I notice his deep, steady breathing. A pulse beats against the the fragile skin of his throat, seeming to permeate the bedroom with the sweet, warm smell of his blood. Glancing at the clock again, I breathe in lightly, swallowing hard and moving quickly and silently from the room.

My head clears slightly as I creep outside. A full moon hangs fat and bright in the sky, illuminating the sprawling fairgrounds. Catching a stray whiff of cigarette smoke and overbearing cologne, I briskly make my way to the other side of the building, not wanting to run into the french boy. Almost shamed at my own cowardice, I take refuge by one of the outhouses, ignoring the chemical stink and plunking down to sit against the splintered wood. The ground is still soft from the previous night's storms, and I idly poke my fingers into the damp soil. A patch of clouds pass over the moon, darkening the grounds. My thoughts seem to take a similar turn, as a swirl of voices echo in my ears.

They're going to come after you...
...you'll be the death of him...
....nothing but a monster.
...wrong to trust you...
He doesn't care...

Squeezing my temples between my palms, I bite down a sob.

I can't break down again. It was too close last night, too dangerous. I have to be strong for them. Alex, Tommy, Sailix, Pyotr. Hell, even Snack Pack. They're mine. They're my responsibility. But they're safe right now. They are. 

Exhaling shakily, I turn my gaze out to the woods, feeling a soft pull in my blood that urges me North towards my own home. Struggling to ignore the sudden yearning, I rise to my feet and shake my head in a vain attempt to unmuddle it. The sky is lightening just enough for a keen eye to notice, and I follow Lumiere's trail of odor back into the building. Reentering Alex and I's room, I'm relieved that the scent of Alex's blood is no longer as overwhelming. He's still in the same position, but his sleeping expression seems uneasy, as if even in slumber he noticed my absence. Pausing only long enough to kick my boots off, I climb onto the mattress next to him and curl against his body.
"I love you Alex, by never in my life will I ever deserve you."
Resting my head on his chest, I close my eyes and let the rise and fall of his chest lull me to sleep.

https://youtu.be/kHg_XwPuY2E