Baby take my hand Who: Derek & NPC Christopher (played by Rae) What: A culmination When: Present Where: Outside of the Milam/Marks trailer Rating: High - fighting and mentions of blood Status: Complete
Don’t fear the reaper
If there was one constant that Derek could count on, that gave him some semblance of reliability and comfort, it was that every day the sun would rise, and it would set. When darkness bathed every inch of Searchlight, that was when the night began for a vampire. A certain kind of vampire, anyway.
He had been thinking about etherics a lot. Blood was something he had come to understand and relate to in his decade of being undead. It was tangible, it could be experienced with all five senses. The smell of it, the subtle sound of it rushing through arteries and veins, the taste and sight of it. But not a lot of people talked about how it felt, or at least the people Derek knew.
It was hot, but not as hot as a cup of coffee. It had taken him by surprise the first time he had fed on a human. Veronica hadn’t warned him how overwhelming it would be, the combination of fear, the person in his grasp trying to fight at first, then going still, becoming a heavy dead weight. It wasn’t until later that Derek realized she hadn’t warned him because she enjoyed it and had assumed he would, too.
But etherics were clean and subtle. They had a better chance of hiding in plain sight. They could operate in daylight. There was almost a pang of envy. To not be tied to blood or death. All of these thoughts ran through Derek’s head as he skulked silently near Ronnie’s trailer, waiting for Christoper to show his face.
Night time had its advantages; the shadows could conceal a person with ill intent, people tended to be cooped up in their houses unawares that anything lurked in the darker corners, or simply out enjoying the changing weather with their families. Christopher didn’t have a family anymore. He indulged on the carelessness of human pastimes and behaviors.
When it came to the Milam guy, Rocky had warned him about that tight, annoying circle of friends his son had. The strength of the tall, pale one - Christoper assumed now that Rocky had been speaking of Derek - came to mind instantly. He understood the repercussions of messing with someone. But so far he had been careful not to cross paths with anyone in the unbroken ring.
The evenings had the blonde coming home. There was less chance to strike, to scare and feed. Most of the instances occurred during the day. Searchlight was unique in the fact that none of the neighbors ever complained about that little, red, four door car that sat parked on one street or another. Or the idea of anyone lurking around outside someone’s house.
Christopher had an unquenchable urge to turn Ronald’s world upside down that night, though. He was usually full from those events. Not only was it satisfying on so many levels, he had fun scaring the hell out of the cook. Tonight was no different.
As usual, the red car parked a few streets up. Discretion was a good tool to have even if he didn’t necessarily need it. Tonight he had something big planned for the small man. Each step he took toward the trailer, Christopher felt a sense of purpose and delight. He felt calm, satisfied. Hands would be stuffed into the pockets of his light jacket, leathers shoes made barely a sound as he crossed the street and connected to another. Before too long the familiar house came into view and he couldn’t keep the predatory grin off of his face.
Derek knew that Ronnie was inside the little house, probably in bed. Every time that he spoke to his friend, he was in bed. Christopher was slowly taking away everything that made Ronnie who he was. It was like watching someone being slowly murdered and being unable to look away. The vampire was ready for that to end.
He was rewarded when he spotted Christopher. Derek briefly wondered how anyone could have missed this guy. Just his walk alone screamed ‘creeper’. The vampire crouched and moved behind Ronnie’s trailer, hoping to catch the etheric off guard. Now the stalker’s back was to him. He also had an advantage as the man’s focus was most likely entirely on Ronnie.
“Do you always go where you’re not wanted?” he spoke up.
There was a spring in Christopher’s step. Each footfall seemed light, as if he were moving toward something that he enjoyed, looked forward to. He didn’t even realize the smile that split his face, a lengthy line drawn from one ear to the other that bared his teeth. There was the window to the bedroom; he had split that screen a handful of times to leave a note. Sharp eyes caught its outline.
Christopher turned toward the direction of the voice. He wasn’t rattled, not really, just taken a bit off guard. Gravel and grass crunched beneath the leather soles of his shoes. His grin broadened as the familiarity of the tone of voice hit him like a freight train. “Sneakers,” Christopher greeted warmly. “I had an idea I would find you here sooner or later.”
He could recall their transaction, the odd yet cute back and forth exchange of words that grew in impatience as reality set in. And how he loved packing the box with that same shirt inside of it. The animal he’d taken the essence from would not have been missed. He only wished he could’ve seen the look on Ronnie’s face as he opened it. Only the taste, the sample of the fear, had been experienced in an effort to keep out of sight.
Derek maneuvered so that he was standing between Christopher and the trailer, blocking his view. “I know you’re not particularly interested in me,” the vampire remarked casually. He didn’t miss the way that the etheric’s smile split his face, the way it resembled a throat cut open, garish and bright. “It’s probably because you can’t scare me.”
He paused, looking over his shoulder at the trailer, the way the light flickered through curtains. Home was supposed to be a safe place, and the violation of that was felt on an instinctive level. “Now, if you were a psychic vampire that fed on anger? Well, sir, you would be in luck.” Derek flashed a mirthless smile, sharp teeth included.
Christopher suspected that Derek wasn’t the usual victim; the strength in their handshake at the tee shirt stand had been an indication. That resurgence felt just then by the sight of the fangs only strengthened that suspicion. A vampire. His expression did not change though it did falter a bit with frustration. He wasn’t in the need to eat, yet the desire to have a bit of fun was nearly overpowering.
“I don’t want to scare you,” Christopher replied. “I want to scare your friend until the last bit of energy is squeezed out of him.” It was a beautiful thing.
A step to the side would bring Christopher to Derek’s right and his left, as if to circumvent the current barrier.
Derek watched Christopher move past him. One impossibly quick movement later, and the vampire was in front of him once again. “You know what’s even better?” he asked. “Watching someone who is so, so hungry realize he’s never going to taste the tempting meal that’s just maddeningly out of reach.”
Two hands shot out to push the etheric backward. “I’m not letting you near him.”
While Christopher figured that sooner or later this would culminate to something larger than he wanted, he had not expected the escalation so soon. The push sent the etheric vampire backward, pinwheeling with his arms to retain balance. With wide eyes and a sneer, Christopher righted himself. It was his turn to shove. Both hands would press hard against Derek, pushing with all of the strength that came with being fully invested in your victim.
“Oh, but you will. I made a promise.” It was a slip, but he meant what he had agreed to that night in the bar.
He wasn’t expecting Christopher to be strong. Perhaps he should have done some research. Derek stumbled back but regained his balance quickly. “Promised who?” the vampire asked, circling back around, his eyes never leaving the other man. Derek could hear some dogs barking in the distance. Whatever was going to happen next, it would need to happen out of the way of prying eyes.
“Promise implies you aren’t just doing this for the food.”
Christoper smirked. “How else would I have stumbled upon such a perfect source of food if I hadn’t been guided?” Searchlight may have been a beacon but there was no reason for someone like the etheric to even visit - but he’d struck gold here.
“Have you ever heard of Rocky Milam?”
The etheric was not only strong, but quick. He leapt at Derek with hopes of pinning the vampire to the ground.
Derek let Christopher take him down, an inexplicable grin on his face. He looked up at the etheric, those cold eyes and the cruel smile. “Oh yeah, me and Rocky go way back. Now that you mention it, I should probably pay him a visit.” He latched onto the other man tightly. “It’s better if you close your eyes,” he advised.
He was on his feet again in less than a second, holding on tight to Christopher as he ran with lightning speed. Derek wasn’t sure where he was going, exactly, but he just needed it to be empty.
Christopher rolled with Derek and found himself suddenly upright. All the while, as he was being dragged along, he fought to get the vampire off of him. Each of them were strong. And every step took him further from his purpose. He began to lash out at the vampire, limbs striking with precision in an effort to get the other to let go. He liked this shirt.
While he didn’t have fangs he did anything possible to wrench free, including sinking those predatory teeth into pale, cold flesh.
Derek stopped and let Christopher drop unceremoniously, reaching up to touch where he had been bitten. “Ow, he said, “you’re not supposed to bite. That’s my thing.” They were a couple hundred feet away from the residential trailers, on a plot of empty land with a ‘for sale’ sign on it. That would do.
“You do realize I’m going to kill you, right?” the vampire asked, wiping away a small amount of blood from the half-moon shaped wound on his skin.
“Well, I was taking a lead from your book,” Christopher retorted. He picked himself up, going as far as to dust himself off, before standing up straight. They were nearly a match for height.
“What I don’t understand,” he side-stepped, “is why you like that human so much. They’re food. Who cares?” He didn’t see the point of attachment to something so fragile. Death impending, or not.
With a smile he launched himself at the vampire, moving quickly. “Not if I kill you first.”
Derek caught the rapidly moving figure, but the momentum was enough that they both fell to the desert ground, rolling against brush and broken glass from beer bottles. As the vampire wrestled to get the advantage back, he retorted with, “I’m already dead.” He felt pieces of something sharp press against his face.
Christopher laughed. “You are, but you aren’t. Living dead is the most curious pun.” Vampires were interesting things. He had sand in his shirt and jeans, in the soles of his shoes. He had glass in his skin, protruding from elbows. Part of him felt pain but hyper focus taught him to hone in.
He used his strength to fight. Christopher was like a tick - filled with blood, latched on and strong. He wasn’t letting go.
The vampire wasn’t worried about losing to Christopher. He was worried about what would happen to Ronnie if he did. “Still more alive than you, though.” He grabbed the etheric by his hair in an attempt to slam his face into the ground.
The grip on his hair was strong enough to work the roots out of the scalp. Christopher grimaced as the pain wracked through him. And then he found his face meeting the sand and firmness beneath. His hands would come up, wrap around the wrist on Derek’s hand and he squeezed with all of his might in an effort to shatter the metacarpals.
Derek winced, wrenching his hand away from Christopher as pain began to throb through it. He wasn’t sure if anything was broken, but luckily it was his non-dominant hand. The vampire had expected a simpler, quicker fight than this, and a wave of frustration and anger washed through him. He managed to disentangle himself from the other man and get back onto his feet, his sneakers scraping against sand and dirt. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small but sharp folding knife, disengaging it so that the blade appeared, catching what little light there was.
Gravel embedded into the flesh where it had been pressed into the ground. The side of Christopher’s head throbbed, bones shattered from the impact. The good side of his face carried a jagged smile, like cardboard split open with a toothed knife.
Rolling to the side, Christopher willed himself to stand. His leather soled shoes nearly slipped on the blood and sand granules. The glint of the knife in Derek’s hand made his eyes narrow as best that they could. “I will kill him,” the etheric promised, sloppily.
It was quiet around them unless one really listened in, and Derek could listen...when he wanted to. What he heard were the sounds of night in the desert. And those words, and the promise in it. The vampire believed Christopher would kill Ronnie, if he were allowed to walk away.
“No.”
In one moment, Derek had been standing with the blade held aloft. In the next, only the handle was visible, the sharp metal buried in Christopher’s pale neck. It was better this way, really. The vampire didn’t want any of the etheric’s blood.