Unapologetic Apathy

Gerard POV

the night of the blood moon, Frank and Sam showed up on my doorstep, Sam looking timid and Frank with determination in his hazel eyes.

"Hello," I said quickly, ushering them inside and keeping them from stepping onthe large sigil on the floor. The candles were unlit, but they scattered the floor in an intricate pattern. The furniture was dragged back and the carpet was peeled away so I could paint the symbol on the hardwood floor. Even in the dark wood, the red was still vibrant and bold. The design made a spiralling star shape with sharper hornlike slashes protruding from it. On each point, there was a different coloured candle.

The room was dark, like the book said it should be. There was numerous things around the room positioned so the ceremony would work: mirrors covered, paintings of people covered, all time keeping devices out of the room. I asked Frank and Sam for any watches or anything displaying the time. Thy handed me their technology, which I place in the hallway.

"Wow. You got a lot done," Frank said, whistling at my work. my eyes zoned in on what Sam was carrying. A mason jar full of black oil-like liquid. It swished around as he held it in awkward hands, looking for somewhere to put it.

"That's your sire's?" I asked him.

"Yes," he murmured, "it's my sisters."

"Sorry," I mumbled to him, taking the glass away. He dropped his hands and put them in his pockets shyly, and his head hung low. My fiancée turning me into a vampire was one thing, as I never trusted her entirely in the first place. His sister. He must have looked up to her and grown up trusting her. She was familly. It must have been quite the shock. He didn't answer, so I just place the mason jar aside.

Frank came up up to me as I was studying the book rapidly. Last minute changes, et cetera.

"So," he started, "who's first? In the ritual, I mean."

"I was leaving that to you and Sam," I told him, "I thought many things could happen. Either it works, and we both get to turn back, or it doesn't, and one of us either died or doesn't get turned. Well, not die, but it could rebound if we do it wrong. I thought maybe if I went first, I could see if it rebounds or not. But then again, if we can only do one a night...."

"Wow. I though maybe you'd want to go first, you know..." He trailed off.

"I've been a monster for two centuries. I'm sure if I don't get to go, I can wait another six months," I scoffed. Had he really thought I'd be that selfish, as well? Sam was a teenager, incapable of understanding how to control himself. He was better off going first. "But if it rebounds..."

"I'll have to ask Sam about it," he hummed, glancing behind him at the boy, sitting on the armchair across the room. I followed his glare. Sam was leaning over, head in hands and elbows on knees, his blonde hair tumbling over his eyes.

"He looks sick. How much has he eaten?" I wondered. Frank but his lip.

"Whenever he asks for it. Usually he can go a day without..."

"No. Whatever he says, it's still no. It can be quite...unpredictable at this stage. Will he be okay when we use your blood for the ritual?" I said, and Frank glanced back again. Unsurely, he nodded.

"He'll be okay," he assure me. Then, he sat down beside me where I was sitting on the couch. "Have you got Lyndsey's?" Her blood. Yes, I did. I nodded and turned to look at the wall behind me, where she was stuffed.

As soon as I hear we needed sire's blood, I ripped open the door to the wall where she was. I pulled her out and tried to drain as much as I could from her. I didn't know how much was still left, or if it had dried up or whatever. But I remember clear as day, I took out a paring knife and worked at her arms. It was like squeezing a dried out lemon. Barely half a jar was filled until she was fully drained. I hoped it would e enough.

The jar was in the kitchen, where I'd paced it when I washed the paring knife. I got up to I get it. As I stood up, Sam piped a question.

"What time do we do the ritual?" he asked. "If we don't have time keeping devices at all-"

"Stars. At midnight, in a few hours, we will start te ritual." I started walking towards the kitchen, where the hallway led to. I returned with the jar and set it beside the sigil. "Sam, would you like to go first? I can understand wanting to, but there are risks. The spell could rebound and...I don't know what it would do. But if I go first, we may only be able to perform one a night."

"...We'd have to wait six months," he continued for me. I nodded, looking at him with anticipation. I wanted to become human more than anything. But, I also wante the kid to be able to go. Given te strict time rules for the ceremony, we'd have to only do one, maybe.

"I'll go first, then. I don't care about the rebound. I need to be normal," he said rather speedily. I nodded understandingly, then took the mason jar of black sire blood and placed it at the top of the pointed symbol.

"Okay. That works," I hummed. "But, we'll need your blood. And Frank's for thw human sacrifice." Fank behind me, got up and took a switchblade out f his pocket. Sam bit his lip, looking nauseous.

"I'll go first," Frank volunteered. He picked up an empty jar, and held it under his wrist on the floor. He knelt carefully over it, pressing the blade to his wrist. He winced as a small bead of pure red dripped out and landed in the jar with dripping noise.

Beside me, Sam was struggling to hold himself back. I held a steady hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving, but that didn't stop him from squirming away and lunging for Frank.



Sam POV

I swear I dididnt mean to.

I hadnt eaten all day or had anything sufficient the night before. It was just a little bit, and I was still kind of twitchy. I knew Frank was going to have to draw blood, but I trusted myself to control my bloodlust. It was gross how much I seemed to want it, despite not actually wanting it.

By the time we got to the manor, I felt as sick as I looked. Before I was turned, I was a healthy colour, with a nice colour to my eye and lips. My hair was shiny, an I felt good. But now, in the past few weeks, I've noticed a deterioration. I was pale, my face had no healthy glow, and my eyes were glassy and dead looking. Dark shadows were smudged under my eyes and cheekbones. My lips were chapped. I felt like there were strings tugging at me, pulling me in every direction. My stomach was a ball of fire, and my muscles felt weak and achy.

Worse than all other symptoms, I was hungry. Not just a peckish feeling some people get, like a first world problem. Nobody would actually understand. I felt like I hadn't eaten in weeks, I was so thirsty I couldn't even talk right, my voice kept cracking and I was sweating like crazy. And combined with intense cravings rivalling that of 14 pregnant women, it was all hell. My fangs felt uncomfortable huge in my mouth. My jaw...itched... like I needed to bite someone fast.

But i I managed to keep it under control for a few minutes, until Frank got out his switchblade. I felt dizzy and lightheaded, like I was going to faint or black out. And I did. My vision went white and I couldn't see anything, hear anything, or feel anything.

I was woken up by Frank and Gerard, lying on the couch, Frank's arms firmally holding my wrists together. I opened my eyes, and groaned. Frank gave me a compassionate look, and Gerard was behind him crossing his arms with a flash of sad sympathy in his eyes.

"I feel like shit," I said, but it came out in a whisper. Frank's arm was bandaged up, and his blood was in a sealed jar beneath my sister's in the star like pattern on the floor. I winced an tried to sit up, but my head was killin me. My stomach was twisted. My throat was lined with knives. Gerard looked around the room for something, I couldn't tell what. He left, then came back after a minute with a crimson bottle. My muscles tensed and my eyes widened and I tried to sit up more. It felt like forever until he gave me the bottle.

"Here, kid, thought you might want this," he said as he handed it ti me.
I mean, I hated the stuff, but I felt like shit. My entire existence was hell. Drinking this for a few moments would relieve that...and make me feel so damn good. It was euphoric. Like a high. I unscrewed the cap and drank it all. It wasn't as good as I expected it to be, but it was so good, even Luke warm.

I I leaned back again when I was finished with the bottle and closed my eyes. I was breathing heavily and erratically, and I tried to calm myself down. I felt my muscles relax by 110%, and suddenly I was very calm. I licked my lips, which tasted like the colour red looked.

Frank sighed he'd down at me and patted my hair as he stood up to go to Gerard. He left and I was still on the couch, soaking in my own embarrassment. What had happened? Had I collapsed or had I tried to attack Frank? Did I almost ruin the whole thing? I whimpered and sat up, still very dizzy. My first thought was I wanted more. I wanted to drain someone completely. No!

i shook the thought out of my head and licked my lips again.

I sure ire hoped midnight was close. I couldn't stand to be like this anymore.



FRANK POV

Sam had fell to his knees when the jar wasn't even an eighth of the way full. His eyes were unfocused, his breathing was erratic, and he was wan and sweating. His lips were drawn back in a desperate snarl. He lunged, and he was seconds away from biting me when Gerard had pulled him by his collar towards the couch. He struggled and kicked and hissed like a cat, but Gerard wrestled him down. Sam eventually passed out, his eyes rolling bck to whites. I held back a tear; we had to stay string, just for the rest of tonight. Then everything would be fine.

"I thought you said he'd be okay," Gerard sighed, "you can't starve him like this."

"Hey! I'm not starving him or anytging. He tells us when he's hungry, and we give him a bottle or something. Sometimes I even let him drink from my neck. It's not like we're purposefully depriving him of blood," I snapped.

"It must be hard, living with a vampire. Knowing that you kill vampires and all. Hard for your friends. Hard for them to love someone who's been turned into something they hate," he said, his words stabbing me like knives.

"My best friend was turned into a vampire. Sam is like a nephew to me. And," I made my voice quieter like an angry, hushed whisper, "and you, okay? You think I would still hang around if I didn't like you for being a vampire? And we're all those nights together were part of the fucking deal?"

Gerard was noticeably shocked. He raised an eyebrow. It looked weird whenever he showed emotion in his arrogant ace. Like, he had emotion? He was vulnerable? A pang struck my chest. He hasn't meat it, surely. He was just being difficult and I was being a dick. "Look, I'm sorry," I apologized.

"Let's just get the ritual done," he sighed, turning away from me. I made an exasperated noise. One moment he's so helpful and nice and cooperative. The next, he's melodramatic and angsty! Such talent this man possesss, to be able to go from one to another so quickly.

"Fine. Is it midnight yet?"

"half an hour."



Sam asked me a few times in whispers if there was anything between me and Gerard. I said nothing.

The blood moon hadn't even happened yet, and this night was going to shit.

Notes

Part two on the way. So much can happen in the blood moon tbh.

Sorry I hadn't updated in a while. I did have a hella good chapter but I didn't save it so it delete everything *sigh*.

Also so sorr for any spelling errors: autocorrect changes things so it gives it two words where it only needs one (egs. "I walked to the store" would be: "I I walked walked to the store".)

also so I hate my glitchy keyboard.

Also drama.