Love & Blood Pt 2

if you havent read part one yet, you probably should... apart from that, please rate/review, thanks. all comments are welcome.

Gwen unfolded as Garth walked off, breathing deeply to regain control. She wiped at the tears and blood mixed on her face, aware that her hands were trembling. The look on Garth’s face, the feel of his tongue on her face, and the smell were all burned into her mind. Standing, she walked slowly down the road, wondering how to hide all this from her mother.
“Don’t tell anyone; don’t you dare.” She shivered, and fresh tears leaked from her eyes. What had happened to him?

Garth smashed his fist into a tree, eyes travelling down to the blood stained grass, remembering Mike and the raw, bloodied meat. Damn him. Damn him! But his anger at the boy faded. It wasn’t his fault; it was Garth’s.
He started to cry, as his mind’s eye replayed the scene over and over, the fear in Gwen’s voice apparent and heart-wrenching. But he hadn’t been able to help it. He couldn’t stop it…
“What kind of excuse is that?” he groaned, punching the tree yet again, knees trembling. “It’s Gwen.” Gwen. His friend, maybe his best friend. Gwen. He gave up the battle with his legs and sank to the ground, biting his teeth as he smelled the stale, but still deliciously aromatic blood, savouring the scent in his mouth…
He shook his head violently, wrenching his head away from the ground and standing back up, fatigue making his muscles feel heavy and rubbery. He started to walk home, and when he got there had another cold shower to wash away his dirty feelings, before curling up in bed and sleeping deeply, dreamlessly.

He awoke to the sound of his mother banging on the door, and gritted his teeth, rubbing his eyes as the sharp pang of light drove into them. Lethargically, he rose, throwing on his school uniform, thinking of faking a sikkie. But even as he considered it, his skin prickled with the faint stirrings of the lust he had felt the previous day. Surely at school, the hustle and bustle of the day could chase all those thoughts away.

Garth swallowed as he sat in his seat. They had an allocated seating plan, and, in maths, he sat next to Gwen. She walked into the room, visibly paling when she saw him.
Why didn’t she stay home? he thought bitterly. She should have stayed home. But then again, her parents had always been pretty strict when it came to skipping school. She could have wagged… So could I, he shook his head in confusion, glancing at her. He diverted his eyes from her face ashamedly, able to see the swollen wound where he had bitten her lip. Her nose was bruised, and her head had an egg on it that she had attempted to cover with her hair.
Her parents should have noticed that, he thought. She hesitated only a second before walking boldly over to the desk and sitting next to him, moving her chair as far away as possible.
“Gwen,” he whispered as they all started their work and the class began to murmur faintly. She acted as though she didn’t hear him. Or maybe she really didn’t.
“Gwen.” He reached out and touched her shoulder gently. She jumped, pushing back her chair in a flash and standing, staring at him with wild eyes, breathing heavily.
“Problem?” Mrs Davis said severely as the class turned their attention towards them.
“I, uh, need a drink,” Gwen said, voice cracking halfway through the sentence, although there were no tears in her eyes.
Mrs Davis frowned slightly, then nodded. Gwen hurried from the room.
“Hey,” Jessica tapped Garth on the shoulder, leaning in to talk. “What was all that about?”
“Dunno,” Garth lied uncomfortably.
“What happened to her face?” Jess stared at him intensely.
“Dunno,” he said again, lowering his eyes. Jess looked unsatisfied with his answers, but said nothing more, turning back to her work. Gwen didn’t return to the lesson.

Another day, another load of shit, Garth thought, sighing and slinging his bag down onto his bed before following it, collapsing into the fluffy doona. He squeezed his eyes shut, stomach a knot of complex emotions, sadness, regret and profound guilt. Still, he fell asleep quickly, exhausted.
He awoke, after what felt like seconds later, mind a white haze. He needed blood…

Gwen was sitting on her bed, arms wrapped around her legs, darkness seeming to press in around her, even though she had a light on. She shivered, closing her eyes to give in to her tiredness, fear snapping them back open. Being blind wasn’t her idea of being safe. Having her eyes open was as close to comfort as she could get. In spite of herself though, her body gave out, emotional exhaustion crippling her more than the physical.
A noise awoke her, a sound from the window. She leapt up, cursing inwardly as Garth swept aside the curtains. There was something different about him though, like she’d seen at the park, a malevolent stretch to his grin that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe she had just never noticed. She opened her mouth to scream, and he shot forwards, one of his strong hands stifling her cries, jerking her head painfully to the side, stretching her neck. Pressure was applied to her body to stop her struggling, and she felt lips brush her throat. She wriggled under him, legs kicking uselessly, and then something ripped into her neck. She stopped moving in shock as blood soaked her sheets, before the flow was abruptly cut off. Slurping sounds came under her ear; her strength was waning as she lost blood. Hopelessness consumed her, stemming from the thing on top of her. She wanted to scream, but all she could do was moan.

Garth kissed her neck, then slashed his teeth downwards, licking the blood that poured from the wound with satisfaction.
He used his tongue to wipe salvia over the wound, sealing it after a few minutes spent drinking. It was hard to stop himself, but somewhere in his ‘high’ he realised that if he kept going, he’d kill his fun.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I didn’t take too much. You’re so yummy!” he ended gleefully. He removed his hand and kissed her firmly on the lips, nibbling at her lip to break open the scab for one last sip.
“I love you.” She didn’t respond. “Do you love me?” he asked. She trembled beneath him, drew a shaky breath and shook her head.
“You will,” he breathed. “You will. I’m the only one who loves you, the only one interested. You will love me.”
He lay down on top of her, quilt separating them, licking at her lip, pinning her arms easily. They were tense, but she no longer bucked, thankfully.
“Remember, tell no one, or I cannot be responsible for my actions.”
“Please, just leave me alone,” Gwen whispered. Garth kissed her forehead before standing.
“I cannot, it would be wrong. I love you. We are meant to be together.” He turned and vaulted nimbly out the window.

Garth shook as his normal awareness returned. He was standing in the middle of the deserted road, streetlamps dropping light onto the street. Sinking to his knees, he passed a hand over his eyes.
“Gwen,” he groaned, “why am I doing this to you?”
He felt the need to go back to her, apologise, ask her forgiveness, beg it. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought that that would just freak her out more, if possible. How could he begin to heal the rift between them? He had cut her throat, drank her blood. And he had enjoyed every second of it.
Vampire. I’m a vampire! How had he not killed her then? His mind whirled with questions, implications, and he found himself longing for darkness, sweet bitter nothing. His head jerked up, staring at a point between the pools of light. Deep darkness. It seemed to call to him, stretching out inviting fingers to take him in. Standing, he walked into the black, breathing heavily. He smelled blood.
“Garth?” a voice came out of the shadows, and Mike stepped in front of him. “Garth.”
“Mike,” he answered curtly. All his emotions seem to have fallen away, leaving him with a sense of power and strength. It wasn’t complicated anymore. He was normal again, just not the same normal as before.
Mike smiled, mouth stretching to bare his teeth. His canines had lengthened to thin fangs, gracious and deadly at once. “That name is not me. I am Nosferatu.” The word rolled of his tongue, Noss-fair-a-to, carrying with it a sense of mystery. Garth nodded.
“Nosferatu,” he answered, enjoying the feel of the word. His chest swelled with it, he was filled with pent-up joy. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” Nosferatu answered. “Have you accepted yourself yet?”
Garth put his head slightly to the side, and grinned. “Yes. Maybe. I’m not sure. Every now and again I go crazy, fight my lust. But it’s love. You can’t fight love.”
Nosferatu’s smile widened. “Love,” he said longingly. “How long since I have loved?”
Garth ignored his theatrical sighing, and came back down from his vampiric high. It was the only way to describe it; he had no control, but felt in power, in charge of his emotions and his dreams, willing the world to work around him. He backed away from Nosferatu.
“What’s happening to me?” he gasped.
“You’re a vampire,” Nosferatu answered. “Plain and simple.”
“How?”
Nosferatu shrugged. “It just happens, as it did with me. No bites, although it can seem like you were, when the marks show up on your neck. That’s why Gwen won’t become one.” Garth got the feeling this wasn’t the truth, but said nothing. Who cared how he’d become one? All that mattered was he was one.
“How did you know that-”
“I just do.” Nosferatu shrugged dismissively.
“How can I stop it?”
Nosferatu moved closer, his proximity making Garth uncomfortable, remembering their near kiss. “You can’t. You must embrace it; accept it.”
“If I do that…”
“What?”
“What if I kill her?” Garth said desperately.
Nosferatu gave a harsh laugh. “I don’t think you will.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I can’t. But you love being with her too much to kill her.”
Garth was silent for a moment, thinking this over. “Wait… Don’t you mean I love her too much?”
“No. You don’t love her at all.” With that, the boy vanished back into the gloom, leaving Garth to wander home alone, mulling over all that had happened, in particular Nosferatu’s visit.
It did nothing to improve his confusion. He felt the rising urge for blood, and fought it down, thinking of his meal earlier.
I don’t need it, he thought. I just ate. I’m fine.
He began the walk home.

“Garth!” his mother screeched as he walked in the front door. “Where have you been?”
“Out,” Garth grunted, trying to push past her to his room. He was in no mood for a fight; he just wanted to sleep.
“Out?! What’s wrong with you! You don’t go out at three in the morning!”
“Shut up!” Garth yelled, whirling around. His mother flinched backwards, hurt look on her face.
“Garth, what’s going on with you? You seem so different this past week, do you have a problem?” his mother no longer seemed angry, just sad, but it still rankled him. “Can I help?”
Garth grinned, losing control completely, running his tongue over his lengthening canine. “Yeah.” He leapt at his mother, sinking his teeth into her jugular vein as she screamed. He barely had a mouthful before letting her fall to the ground, blood spurting all over the ground. She was unconscious, and he guessed she would soon be dead, without any remorse. She shouldn’t have interfered in his life. Turning on his heel, he stalked off into the night, seeking Nosferatu. He was a vampire; no going back now.

Gwen yawned widely as she walked down the hall to the breakfast table, feeling weak and tired. Needless to say, she hadn’t slept after Garth had left, getting up to wash the sheets of blood.
She found her mother staring at the telephone in shock.
“What?” she asked, scared by the paleness of the woman before her.
“It’s the Moore’s…” her mother said.
Gwen felt the blood drain from her face. “What about them?”
“Paulina’s dead, and Garth is missing,” her mother said gently, standing and wrapping an arm around her daughter. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
Dead… Garth’s Mum is dead… Gwen shivered and rubbed her neck. Could’ve been me, she thought.
“Do you want to stay home?” her mother asked, and Gwen shook her head quickly. If Garth was missing, she didn’t want to stay in her room all day, lest he come.
“No! No, I’ll go to school.”
Her mother raised her eyebrows. “Look, honey, it’s a big shock for you, and you aren’t looking so good anyway. Maybe you should-”
“No! I old you, I’m going!”
“OK, OK.”

It had been a week since Garth had gone to Nosferatu. Nosferatu lived two days away, in the city, but Garth didn’t care. The car-trip had been long and he was left wondering how Nosferatu managed to come down to the small town he lived in, but he didn’t really care, dealing with stuff inside rather than out. Pangs of guilt followed him, reducing him at times to a blubbering mess in the corner of a room. Then Nosferatu would come, soothe him, and take him out into the world, as he did tonight.
“There,” the boy breathed as a lone girl went hurrying past along the footpath. Garth nodded, lust for blood moving him to action. As the teenager passed the tree he was standing behind, he fluidly reached around, wrapping his arm around her mouth and pulled her into the gloom.
She struggled, trying to scream, arms and legs flailing. Nosferatu grabbed her from behind, pulling her down on top of himself and biting into her neck. Garth’s tongue licked at the blood seeping from the edges of Nosferatu’s greedy mouth, and the boy shifted his head slightly to allow him better access. The girl appeared to have fainted as they feasted on her blood, minds blank. Garth stopped feeding momentarily to kiss her warm lips, and Nosferatu lifted his head, having sealed over her wounds, with a strange look in his eyes. Still needing blood, craving a human reciprocation of love, Garth thrust his head forwards, kissing Nosferatu hard, tongue licking remnants of blood from his teeth. Then he withdrew, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be.” Nosferatu sounded happy, for once. Garth sighed, stroking the girls face gently before standing.
“Did we kill her?”
“Yes.”
Garth nodded sadly, then turned away.
“What is it?”
“This isn’t satisfying anymore,” Garth struggled to put his emotions into feelings. “
Nosferatu was silent for a moment. “Do you miss her?”
Garth nodded, and he came down with sadness. “I miss her so much.”

Gwen woke to the sound of rattling at her window and sat up, gripping a stake of wood tightly, seeing a freaky-looking boy come in through the curtains. He breathed in deeply and grinned at her.
“Ah, garlic. Does nothing except stink, and a wooden stake will work on anyone, if,” he moved so fast he was a blur, grabbing her wrist and forcing it down, “you can get it through them.”
She scowled at him as he leaned on her, pushing her back into a lying position. He leaned over, and she thought he was going for her throat, panic gripping her.
“Garth misses you,” he hissed in her ear. Her heart skipped a beat, she struggled against his grip, opening her mouth to scream. She had started off brave; now she was scared.
The boy stopped her predictably with his hand, nibbling hard on her ear.
“Right, I’m done,” he whispered. She felt something jab into her neck, into her vein, and her head swam, vision clouding, consciousness abandoning her to accept her fate.

She awoke, blinking rapidly to get rid of the mist in her eyes. In about a second she processed two facts; one she was sitting rather than laying, and two, her neck was horribly exposed, stretched as her head lolled back over the headrest. Pulling her head upwards slowly, she found that her wrists, elbows and ankles were bound to the chair, and that there was a rough cloth gag in her mouth.
What? She remembered the boy, his words, and the fear already in her stomach expanded. Straining wildly against the rope holding her to the wooden, uncomfortable chair, she tried to scream past the fabric. Tears coursed down her cheeks, dampening the gag but she didn’t notice them, so intense was her fear. She couldn’t think, just move, struggle, fight.
She heard a door open behind her and turned her head to see who it was, struggling to breathe the deep breaths she needed past her now blocked nose and gag.
“Ah, you’re awake.” It was the boy from before. He looked positively delighted. “Now I can show Garth his surprise.”
Garth. She stared at him, rotating her wrists. They were now a raw, painful red, but she didn’t care. She had to get away, she had to escape. The boy smiled at her futile efforts, tapping her cheek.
“Ain’t gonna work, love,” he said, putting on an American drawl before exiting.

Nosferatu hurried down the stairs, broad grin on his face, catching Garth half-way up the hall. “Come up!” he said excitedly. Garth sighed, but followed him, into a room he thought empty. A girl was seated in the chair, a girl he’d recognise from anywhere. He looked over at Nosferatu and smiled, walking up behind Gwen and kissing her bare neck. She flinched away from him, and he rubbed her gently on the shoulders.
“I missed you, sweetheart,” he said, walking around to stand before her. Her hair was straggly, eyes red-rimmed and wide with fear, but to him she was perfect. “Did you miss me?” She shook her head violently, fighting against cords wrapped around her arms. He reached down and took off her gag.
“Why not? Don’t you love me?”
“No! No, I don’t love you, you freak!” she screamed. He blinked. “Let me go! Let me go!”
“Calm down,” he said curtly. “Why are you scared of me?”
“Why do you think? Just let me go! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you!”
Garth felt as though a hole had been punched through him; fury welled. He brought his hand back, and hit her around the face with the back of it, hard. The chair crashed to the floor, and she stayed motionless, gasping for air.
“Don’t say things you’ll regret later, babe,” he said coolly.
“I won’t regret it.” Her voice shook.
Garth knelt, nimbly untying her from the chair and pulled her upright into a tight hug, which she vainly tried to escape. Nosferatu stepped forwards in anticipation.
Garth went to kiss her, but she turned her face away, so that he got her cheek. Anger rose in him, and he brushed his lips across her throat before biting into her. She screamed, trying to push him off as Nosferatu joined in, lapping eagerly at the blood. Garth left the wound, kissing her firmly, passion building in him. He felt Nosferatu withdraw, and Gwen started to fight him again, managing to pull away for the first time as all his energy seemed to wane in his lust. She staggered back, holding her neck.
“Fuck off!” she screamed as he reached for her, grabbing the chair and hurling it towards him. It struck his side, and he roared with anger. How dare she deprive him, how dare she resist him?
He leapt at her, knocking her to the ground, biting into her neck, one hand worming downwards to her pants, sliding them down as he wriggled out of his own. She screamed and bucked and kicked, but it only added to his pleasure as he climaxed, body in tune with her own. Suddenly, the fight left her as she fell unconscious, body and mind tired. He stood, wiping at his mouth, checking for her pulse before sitting in the chair, satisfied, but angry at the same time that she wasn’t stronger; that she couldn’t have lasted a little longer.
“Well?” Nosferatu said.
“Thankyou,” Garth said quietly, sitting still for a quiet moment, before standing and lifting the unconscious girl easily, placing her securely back in the chair, kissing her stretched neck. He was aroused and restless.
“Let’s go,” he said with a malevolent grin. Nosferatu smiled back, one pointed fang sliding past his bottom lip.

Gwen opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling before pulling her head upwards, feeling as if it were made of lead.
“Gwen!” she flinched as Garth’s voice reached her ears, she blinked and there he was in front of her, moisture glistening on his cheeks. He reached out to touch her face; she sluggishly turned it away but he cupped her cheek in his hand, stroking it gently with his thumb. “Oh, Gwen, I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”
She stared at him blankly.
“I don’t know why I do it to you! I’m sorry! I can’t control myself; I’m becoming less and less like the guy you knew, and more like a monster.”
“Like?” she breathed, waking up slightly. “You are. You are a monster.”
He hung his head, thumb still stroking her face as if to reassure himself of something. What, she didn’t know. And she didn’t really care.
“Let me go home,” she said, trying to keep the desperation from her voice.
“I, I can’t.” Garth hung his head, hands clenching into fists as his shoulders shook. “I want to, but I can’t.”
“Why?” Her voice barely rose over a whisper.
“Because you’re the only normal thing left, the only thing pulling me back.” He looked up at her, eyes red and glistening. “Don’t you get it? This past week I haven’t come down at all, I’ve gone out every night and sucked blood. I’ve killed people. Then I saw you, and here I am again. It’s me. I don’t want that to change. I don’t want to go back; I don’t want to be a monster anymore! I want to be normal!” His words gushed over one another, bumping and slurring as he spoke rapidly, trying to get his feelings out. “I have no emotion when I change,” he said as a seeming afterthought. “I don’t want to be empty anymore either. I want to feel!”
Gwen shook her head slowly, trying to process what he had said. Her chest was boiling with a mix of fear and anger. She snapped.
“Do you really think I give a fuck what you want?” she growled. He blinked in surprise, pushing himself backwards to sit on the floor. “Do you seriously think I care? I don’t! I don’t care about you, I care about me! I don’t care if you think I’m a bitch, I don’t care if you love me, I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care! You had no right to drag me into all this, it’s your problem and I can’t help you, I don’t want to help you. You’ll just hurt me again. I’m not gonna be your anchor, Garth. I’m not gonna be your lifeline, because you’ll just change later.”
“No, Gwen, please, I need you. Understand, please.”
“I do understand. But I don’t agree. I just wanna go home and forget I ever knew a sick bastard like you!”
He looked hurt, offended, wrapping his arms around himself as he thought.
“Let me go,” she said, trying to muster a shred of power into her voice. He stood, rubbing his hand over his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he sobbed voice shaking.
“Garth, please!” She struggled not to yell. “Garth, please, please, please!”
“Why should I?” he snarled, rounding on her. “You don’t care about my feelings, so why should I give a damn about yours?”
She didn’t respond, a cold shiver running down his spine as she realised that he had reverted. She hated him.
His face softened, and she hoped for a futile second he was ‘normal’ again. “But I do care,” he whispered, leaning in, nipping at her neck. She groaned, and he rubbed her shoulder. “Scream,” he growled, biting deeper. She did just that, moving against the ropes.
“Garth!” she screamed. Some anchor…