Hi! Some call me Boot

Floral Sheet Ghosts

Bones

The New Normal

Of course based off the normal album this vampire is masking his disappointment in no longer being able to walk in the sun.

CW: Mentions of light gore, implied cannibalism, mentions of hell, mentions of death, implied partial nudity, mention of scars and stitches.

The sound of sirens filled the morgue. Three bodies lay scattered across the floor, two of them dismembered. A low groan came out of the largest figure as he opened bloodshot eyes. This one had been dead the longest, but was now clearly the most lively. His eyes darted around in confusion at the sight of the morgue ceiling and walls. Just moments before, he'd been burning in hell.

Bob glanced around more and more, startled from having been shot and run over multiple times, as if no time had passed, as if his time in hell had only been a bad dream. Still he could tell by his surroundings he was no longer on the street he'd been killed on. In the flashing light, he saw the other bodies, or at least what was left of them. Familiar looking red cloaks torn to shreds around the remains.

His body ached with unimaginable pain, but his stomach, though riddled with sewn up bullet wounds, felt very bloated. This gave him an idea as to what happened to the other two bodies. He licked the stickiness from his lips, the metallic taste on them confirming his suspicion. He supposed it was time to do what he always did when he heard sirens.

He sat up, roaring in pain, the sound inhuman. He panted, but he was aware their was no time to sit and wait for it to subside. He growled like an animal as he forced himself up through the pain, and stumbled out of the room and down the hall. He limped as quickly as he could only stopping when something caught his eye, shimmering in the fluttering security lights. Through an office window, on a desk sat a very abnormal looking necklace, his abnormal looking necklace. A healing pair of blue eyes widened, as a hand went to his chest, feeling the stitches from the autopsy.

"I'm free. . . I'm free?" He thought. "Holy crap! I'm free!" A wicked grin spread over sharp white teeth. It was unfortunately short lived though, when a white hot, blinding pain shot through his head. He heard men running down the hall in his direction. That was definitely his cue, if ever there was one, to leave.

He stumbled faster down the hall, hardly able to see from the pouning pain in his head. He managed to catch a glance of a window ahead. His body suddenly ducked, a reflex faster than he'd ever moved before, yet the movement seemed a familiar on to make. The window ahead of him shattered much to his luck, and he wasted no time running at full speed.

He jumped up into the frame and out on the otherside slicing his arm open on a bit of the remaining glass in the sill. No time to worry about it now, the pain in his head was far worse. He lumbered down a hill and into the woods. The pain grew in intensity as he pressed on through the trees. The night air chilled his bare body, and yet he once again felt his flesh burning. Eventually, he was overcome, and was forced onto his hands and knees, certain he was about to lose the meat he'd apparently had earlier. A thunderous voice echoed loudly all around him, shaking the earth violently.

"FOOLISH CREATURE! YOU ARE NOT ALIVE, NOR ARE YOU FREE! YOU STILL BELONG TO ME, YOU ARE MINE TO CURSE! YOU SHALL ANSWER EVERY COMMAND I GIVE! YOU ONLY WALK BECAUSE I ALLOW IT! YOU'RE ONLY CONSCIOUS BECAUSE I AM SO GENEROUS! IT IS MORE THAN YOU DESERVE AFTER LEAVING ME!!!"

Bob cried out in pain griping the damp leaves and dirt on the ground beneath him, a pain he'd never felt before blazed through his every cell, he couldn't see anything but a bright blue light. His body shook violently, almost convulsing. Then suddenly, as if waking from a nightmare, everything stopped.

He panted, feeling the chill of the November night air against his skin, no longer aflame. The thunderous voice had silence, only the sounds of frogs and crickets chirping remained. There was no blue light, but for the few rays of moonlight that fell through the trees of the woods he'd run into.

Bob sat up, dusting his hands off on his knees. Remembering he'd sliced open his arm he observed both to check the damages. He'd been to full of adrenaline and was in far to much agony elsewhere to know which arm he'd actually cut. While they were covered in sticky, drying blood, he was shocked to find no actual cuts on his arms. He checked his legs supposing he maybe had his extremities mixed up: nothing. He was very confused now, he was sure he'd cut himself open somewhere. He moved his arm again and felt the sting of the open wound. He winced looking over both arms again.

There they were, bloody, and a little bruised but there wasn't a visible cut on either arm. His arm waved again, and again came the sting. He growled in frustration looking once more when it dawned on him that he hadn't been waving either of his arms. Pehaps the more shocking realization was that people, himself included, do not have a third arm sticking out of their lower back. He turned to see a red, fleshy cord whip suddenly behind him, the painful sting surging again. Along that cord was a deepish cut that was bleeding, the injury stinging when it moved. The cord was part of him. He looked down the new extremity finding a point like the head of an arrow on the end.

"WHAT THE HELL!?" The demon tail shot up behind him. "OW!" He brushed the sweatsoaked hair from his face to get a better look, but stopped when his hand hit something hard on his head. He raised a brow, moving his hand along the bent, cylindrical, tapering object. His eye widened, as he free hand found another on the opposite side.