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The early years of your childhood and subsequent formative years faded from your mind decades ago. One of the only things you can recall is the feeling of someone, likely your mother or father, tucking you into bed. An overwhelming feeling of acceptance and care was also low in abundance.

Four hundred and seventy-five years.

What a life you have lived, almost half a milennia. You acclimated to vampirehood relatively well, by your maker's standards. She affectionately referred to you as 'my sweet one', due to your first years as a fledgling.

It was also your maker that appointed you as coven leader after a successful reign of at least several centuries. You had no clue how truly old she was, only that you looked back on the terms of endearment and favor she showed towards you with suspicion.

If she truly loved you, why wouldn't she have taken you with her? The neverending amount of pressure you faced while being coven leader had you contemplating abandoning coven life altogether.

The double-edged nature of being a leader was taking its toll. You ate less to provide more blood for your members, you upheld the laws with a solemn obedience, and mentored the younger, less experienced members. It was exhausting.

Your members, your supposed family no longer looked at you as an equal. They revered the very ground you walked on. You sensed their fear every time you entered a room.

Regardless, this was no longer the case. At least for the night.

You left your second in command, an older vampire named Dawn, in charge of the coven as you entered the Parisian night air.

You admired the artistry of the city, its lamplights illuminating the cobblestone streets and passerbys. You contemplated on what you would do with an entire night to yourself. The opportunity presented itself in the form of a younger man's thoughts as he passed you.

"Je ne peux pas attendre de voir une autre représentation ce soir! J'ai entendu de bonnes choses à propos de ce théâtre! "

Despite your many years on Earth, you never had a chance to further your formal or impersonal education. Most of your communication with the Paris coven was through Dawn. She had learned the French syntax through force. She had many conversations with victims and friends alike, and she was always willing to extend her services to assist you.

You were grateful for her. Your accent left much to be desired and you could never quite figure out how to translate certain words from your native language, often because there was never a proper word for it.

Thankfully, you did have context clues. Representation and theatre were the couple of words you manage to parse through. That meant there was entertainment nearby. You contemplated whether you were still socially capable of attending a soirée, but you put those thoughts to the side.

This night was for you. And you would spend it how you wanted.

Newly determined, you followed after the young man and his date. The two of them reminded you of contented puppy dogs, clambering all over each other with little regard for how they were percieved. They were…cute. You couldn't remember the last time someone willingly showered you in praise and love.

The walk to the theatre was not far, and you stopped in your tracks when you realized who operated it.

Armand. The Parisian coven leader. The leader who Dawn recounted spoke with a terrifying amount of control and coldness. He reigned over his coven for centuries and with an iron fist.

Despite being only a handful of decades older than him, you felt intimidated. You heard of how ruthlessly he upheld the laws, and how callous his coven could be to outsiders.

Turning on your heel, you began to walk away as casually you could. But a shout of your name stopped your movements entirely.

"Ah, yes, I thought that was you! " An Irish accent slipped through the small crowd of people entering and exiting the theatre. You turned around to see a man with curly hair parted down the middle, face painted white and faux fangs sticking out cartoonishly. This must have been the Sam Barclay Dawn told you about.

At your confused look, he bowed his head in greeting. "Good evening to ya! I hope you were coming to watch us perform on this fine night. " He propped his fists on his hips, cocking his head to the side.

"Or did your boss tell ya not to dilly-dally for too long? "

You blinked. "Boss? You mean Dawn? "

He breathed out a slight laugh in disbelief. "Well you sure are a cocky one, aren't ya? " He flicked one hand to beckon you to the entrance. "C'mon in. Fellow…artisans such as ourselves get half off on tickets. "

You followed him to the ticket booth. "May I ask what show is being performed tonight? " You handed him the euros as you asked.

Sam's eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He ripped off the ticket stub as his fangs, his true fangs, poked out.

"The best kinda prize is a surprise, darling. " He winked as he handed your ticket to you. "You enjoy the show, y'here? "

—

You had no idea why a vampire as young as Sam would talk to you so casually, but you chalked that up to his nature. Perhaps he simply spoke to everyone like that.

The interior of the theatre was heady with the sensations of mortals mingling. Their excitement and eagerness for the show intrigued you.

You settled into a seat in the far back, not wanting to draw any more attention than you already had. While waiting for the performance to start, you probed the minds of audience members for an idea of what was in store.

There was a handful of repeat attendees, the passionate ones gaggling at the very first row.

Before you could reach more than a vague understanding of what would soon occur, you felt a shift. A presence attempting to grasp your attention.

You looked up and there he was. Armand, the coven leader and 'artistic director' in mortal eyes.

"Eyes to the front, puce. "

You complied quickly. It was an instinct driven by a long-forgotten compulsion to obey when faced with authority. A feeling you hadn't felt since your maker's departure.

"It is always a pleasure to welcome a new vampire to our humble theatre. " His word were laced with a practiced politeness.

"And since you are not accustomed to the customs of other covens, I will forgive your informality. " So it seems like it wasn't just Sam's nature.

"Thank you for being so forgiving, sir. I will do my best to respect you and your coven to the best to my ability. " It seemed like that answer satisfied him. Barring your mind from any other influence, you reached out to Dawn. The only sign you received that signaled she was listening was a sharp feeling of fear resonating from her side of the psychic link.

"We have much to discuss when I return, Dawn. If I suspect you will flee, I will send the others after you. "

With that message recieved, the show began.

The lights were dimmed and a live band began performing a fanfare for the opening act. Screams echoed throughout the room and the lights flickered on cue.

"Ladies and gentlemen! " A voice rang out. "Madames and messieurs! " A figure appeared on stage, draped in a black cloak to thunderous applause. You gazed out among the sea of humans and looked at their unassuming enthusiasm.

His face was handsome, if a bit weathered. The brightness of his eyes was only compounded by the spotlight that appeared as he continued to monologue.

The melodramatic nature of the play mixed with the jaunty music playing was jarring. You had truly never seen anything like it in your life. Even the silliest of plays paled in comparison to the Theatre de Vampires. Santiago, you learned through the shouts, was a good opener.

You could truly see yourself enjoying your evening.

"Um..boss? Dawn tried to climb out of her window. But don't worry, I stopped her! What do you want to do with her? " Missy. One of, if not the most devoted of your members.

You sighed through your nostrils before responding. "Restrain her in the cellar, but do not harm her. I have some things I need to ask her. " You paused before adding, "Good job, Missy. "

You could feel her preen with joy at your light praise. "Of course, boss! You're so good to me-I mean us! Uh, I'll go ahead and do that thing! Right away! " She had more to say, but you cut off the mental conversation early.

Discreetly as you could, you stood from your seat at the end of the row and circled back to the exit.

"Leaving so soon? " Armand's voice permeated your mind. You paused in the threshold of the doorway.

"My master beckons me. I do hope that you will allow me to leave to avoid any possible conflict. " You hoped that your excuse would suffice.

"Of course. Do give your master my well wishes. " You tilted your head up at where you assumed Armand to be, and nodded. You could only assume that he returned the gesture, since you left and sped away back to your coven faster than any human on the street had enough time to process.

—

"Is she conscious? "

Missy met you at the door, and you sidestepped her instantly. She made no complaint and simply responded.

"Yes, boss. The other girls wanted her to draw cards, but I told them to wait. "

"Good. " You turned, bypassing the vampires bowing to you. Finally, you made it to the stairway leading to the cellar holding Dawn. You opened the door, almost tearing the hinges off in the process, but that barely registered to you.

Right before you began your trek down, Missy lightly tugged on your shirt. You turned to look, eyes ablaze.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, boss, but…make it hurt. " She met your gaze briefly before lowering it once more. "I don't know what she did, but if it's something that made you angry, then she deserves it. "

You almost pitied the way she trusted your judgment wholeheartedly, if that wasn't exactly what she was meant to do. You said nothing and gingerly removed her hold on you.

The stairs were rotting and creaky, but you made no attempt to hide your fury as each step you took increased in force.

In front of the staircase was Dawn, tied up with no light behind her eyes. The sight of her would have made you sick two days ago. But tonight flipped everything you once thought about her on its head.

You kneeled to meet her dull gaze.

"Dawn. You and I both know something is very wrong. Now, I have an idea of what you did, but I need you to tell me everything. From the very beginning to now. If I even suspect, if I feel like anything you say is embellished in any way whatsoever, I swear to God, I will drag you up those steps and light you on fire in front of the entire coven. Do you understand? "

She gulped. You motioned for her to start. She licked her lips and began.

"I didn't think that you would mind. It started back in England, when you had that run-in with the bear? You needed rest and they were so cruel, and we couldn't look weak so I just blurted it out that, " She choked up, but you grabbed her face, nails digging into her cheeks.

"What did you tell them, Dawn? "

She blinked, and you saw tears brimming. "That I was the coven leader. " She whispered. Your unbeating heart clenched. "And? " You urged.

"It was just supposed to be one time! I-I just wanted to protect you, protect the coven! And-and then after we starting going to foreign places you said you didn't speak the language of it just kept going and going! I am so so so so sorry. I promise, I won't ever-I'll take it all back! I'll make it known that I am nothing, nothing compared to you! " By the end of her rambling, you had stood, looking down at your once trusted lieutenant.

Her snivels and groveling had you questioning whether you truly knew her at all. You held out your hand and she stopped her pleas.

"You are going to be punished for this. I'm not sure how, I'm not sure when, but you will pay for this transgression. " You tried to keep your voice as level as you could to hide the fact that you were fighting tears.

"No…"

"NO!? " You grab Dawn's hair and force her to look up at you. "You parade as a coven leader for God knows how long, and you have the gall to tell me no?! Have you lost your fucking mind?! " Dawn was shaking her head, but only barely, as the grip you had threatened to scalp her entirely. You only stopped as you heard her whisper.

"I deserve to die for this. Please, just kill me. I can't live with the guilt any longer. "

You dropped her as she crumpled onto the ground, hard. Her sobs ricocheted throughout the space as memories filled your head. How had this brave, intelligent, and loyal individual you once called your friend devolved into this mess?

She screamed at you to kill her as you ascended the stairway once more. The coven had gathered, crowding you to ask for an explanation on Dawn's confinement. You faintly registered Missy's voice demanding the rest of the girls to stay back and allow you to space, but everything was muffled by the blood rushing your ears.

You ignored the faint cries of confusion as you left them behind you, out the door onto the streets of Paris once more.

—

"Armand, sir? Are you there? I'm afraid we're going to have to talk. "

"I prefer the term maître, puce. And why would I allow an audience with you, perchance? "

"Because it is I who is coven leader, not Dawn. I would like to explain the situation face-to-face, if it's not too much of a bother. "

"…Not at all. Please, allow yourself in when you arrive. I will be waiting in my office. "

"Thank you, maître. "

—

Sam met you once again, but that air of playfulness was gone. Only formalities and stiff demeanors were what you were met with at the empty theatre. Except Santiago had a thinly veiled smirk, and you could've sworn you saw him wink, but that was of no importance.

You and Sam stopped in front of a door. "This is it. " He said, lacklusterly.

"Thank you, Sam. Please tell the rest of the troupe that I'm very sorry I couldn't stay and watch the performance. " He stared at you open-mouthed for a moment before nodding once and walking away.

You were about to knock, but was met with a soft 'come in' from inside.

As you opened the door, you made sure to keep your eyes downcast. Perhaps he would be more likely to listen to you if you made yourself smaller.

"A strange strategy you are employing, " His voice made you swallow.

"Sorry, I don't know why I'm not more…assertive. You'd think with how old I am, I'd be more comfortable bossing people around. " You laughed humorlessly.

You couldn't tell, but it seemed like Armand was intrigued.

He hummed. "Please, sit. " He gestured to an empty seat next to where he sat. You obeyed and sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation settle on your shoulders.

"I can't believe this is happening. "

"And what exactly is happening? "

You flickered to him, making contact with his chest covered by a crisp button-up before looking down again.

"It seems like my second in command has gotten a little too comfortable in giving orders. So much so that she decided to act as leader in the faces of other covens. " You rubbed a hand over your face.

"When she told me I was devastated. And then she asked me to, " Your voice broke unexpectedly and you saw Armand cock his head as you continued. "She asked me to kill her. " You finally made eye contact with him. He had a look of slight disbelief.

"I know that everyone is looking to me for answers but, " You shook your head. "I don't have one for this situation. I still lov-I don't want to hurt her. I know I have to, but I just can't. "

Armand pursed his lips. "And what would you have me do about it? "

You blinked, eyes blurred with tears. "What? "

"Are you asking me to do your duty as a coven leader? That would mean defying the very laws we keep in place-"

"Oh, no! No, I'm sorry, that's not what, " You deny. "I would never ask someone to do something like that for me. I just wanted your guidance. "

He looked genuinely stunned for a brief moment before you continued. "Dawn told me you are, forgive me for saying this, a ruthless leader. I thought that once I explained everything to you, you could tell me what to do or where to go from here. " That last part spilled out of you accidently, and you could tell Armand was speechless.

In a last ditch effort to appeal to whatever sympathy he still had, if it even existed, you laid a hand on his. You felt him stiffen, but you remained.

"I have never, in my over four hundred years of life, would have expected to be faced with something like this. Punishments, solitary confinement, starvation, yes. But destroying my closest friend? I'm sorry, but I can't do it. I won't. " You finished, feeling resolved in your choice.

"Then you are a fool. " Your eyes widened, and Armand realized what he said and began to backtrack. But it was too late, you stood from your seat and he quickly followed suit.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to offend, I simply meant-"

"I understand what you mean, maître. " Your eyes held slight hostility that gave him pause. "Forgive me for taking up your time. I will take my leave, now. " You bowed your head and exited the room.

Armand was frozen. A small part of him, a remnant of his human years expected you to lash out. That coldness reminded him that there were still beings much powerful than him.

But almost none of them were as hesitant to kill disobedient vampires as you were.

—

Your trek back to your coven was suffocating.

On one hand, if you killed Dawn, you would solve the problem. No more misconceptions would happen, your authority would no longer be questioned, and you would be upholding your status as coven leader.

But that would mean killing your closest friend. The one who had been there almost since the beginning. The woman that helped you rise the ranks and convinced the other vampires to join. You told Dawn everything, and she in did in turn.

You couldn't imagine a life without her. But you were being forced to now.

You were met with Missy outside the door, hands clasped and head hung low. Immediately, you were on edge, practically flinging yourself to her. You grabbed onto her shoulders, forcing her to look into your crazed eyes.

"What happened? What did you do, Missy? "

Her mouth gapped, eyes blown. "W-When you left, everyone was so scared and worried. No one was calming down even though I told them to! We-we didn't hear her until it was too late. "

"Too late? Missy, what do you mean too late? What does that mean? " You didn't realize you were digging into her flesh until she lifted your hands to guide you inside.

You smelled her before you saw her.

Dawn. Your best friend and trusted confidant, burned to a crisp on the floor. Your coven went silent at the sight of you. Most of them hid their faces, some were emotionless.

The last thing you remember was falling to the ground and screaming.

—

You aren't sure about how much time has passed before you wake. You were back in the room you shared with the rest of your coven, you recognized it from the wood pattern of the ceiling. But something was wrong. You couldn't sense anyone from the coven in the building.

A hand began stroking your hair and tilting your head back to coax flesh into your mouth. You just assumed it was eager Missy wanting to bring you back to health, and started suckling.

The hum that came from the person you thought was Missy, however, was masculine and low.

Your eyes shot open, pausing your feeding to look at who it was.

Amber pupils stared down at you.

"Armand? " You croaked out, throat sore from unuse.

"Yes? " He tilted his head.

"What are you doing here? " You tried to sit up, but a splitting pain burst from behind your eyelids. He shushed you and once more guided you to drink. You were deeply, deeply perturbed, but in an effort to appease him that you didn't fully understand, you complied.

"I was retrieved by your member, Missy. She was distraught, saying you were 'out of control' and 'going crazy', " His voice changed to mimic Missy's cadence, and you were disturbed by how easily his accent faded.

"When I arrived, you were catatonic, covered in blood. " Your eyes widened, but he continued. "No one was hurt. Except yourself. You were bleeding seemingly from everywhere, I've never seen anything like it. " You were about to open your mouth to apologize, but he kept his arm firmly in place.

"Me and Missy took it upon ourselves to nurse you back to health. " He shook his head, likely reminiscing on Missy's tendency to suffocate with love. You unlatched your mouth from his wrist, hoping he would allow you to talk. He obliged and you began.

"Maître-"

"Armand, for you. "

"…Armand. Thank you for helping me get better, I truly appreciate it. But now that I'm awake and better, I think it would be best if you returned to your coven. I'm sure they're wondering where you are by now-"

"You mean our coven? " His eyes were surprisingly playful for someone who spent a good amount of time watching over an unconscious vampire.

"What? " Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth.

"For the time you were out of commission, I have taken it upon myself to integrate your coven and mine as one. Now, it wasn't my idea, Missy does have a way with words-"

You stopped his explanation by wrapping a hand around his throat and bringing his face uncomfortably close to yours.

"Armand. How long have I been unconscious for that you made the decision to combine our covens? "

His throat made a slight gurgling sound. "Two months. "

You gasped and released him from your hold. You ran your fingers through your hair, grasping the strands tightly.

"This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This is a dream, a big, nasty dream-" His hands wrapped around yours, gently guiding you to let go of your scalp.

"This is no dream. You are awake and alive. Listen to me, " He tilted your head up and his face was so fond you almost flinched away.

"Everything is going to be fine. Everyone has acclimated to this change rather well. And your members have missed you very much. " You controlled your breathing before responding.

"What does this make me? " He furrowed his brows. "Am I even a coven leader anymore? Or are you.." You trailed off, unwilling to ask the question just yet.

Armand smiled. "I was under the impression you wanted a hiatus from leading. But I am open to sharing the position, if that pleases you. "

You gulped. Finally, a chance to break from this position that has caused you so much pain and heartbreak. It only took losing your best friend to get you that.

You should've never come to Paris.

Daniel obliged, albeit with an air of curiousity. It had been persistent despite your growing annoyance and late night explanations about your practice of choice.

It seemed like no matter how much time you dedicated to answering his many, many questions, there always seemed to be more.

Armand was the exact opposite. From his place on the couch in your living room, he was quietly tapping away on his iPad. You could sense he was listening to each exchange you and Daniel had, but you opted to allow him to think that he was more mysterious than he was.

He never had many questions for you, outside of asking what items you required to continue your worship. From crystals, to candles, even the more niche items like what you required for rituals, you were always able to rely on Armand to get whatever you needed with minimal resistance.

Unlike Daniel and his blatant ogling.

As you were putting your incense away, you felt him eyeing your movements. You sighed, dramatically flaring your nostrils before turning to him.

"What do you want now, Daniel Molloy? "

He grinned, "Ooh, using the full name, are we? " He perched his elbow on your head, making your eyes widen. Unfortunately, your height was always a source of entertainment for him and endless irritation for you.

"I'd like to watch you do that ritual you were talking about this morning, " He continued. "And before you get all riled up, I just wanna say straight up, " He crosses his heart theatrically. "I won't be an asshole. You won't even know I'm there. "

"No. "

Daniel tilted his head down to look at you. One would think that the expression you had on your face told him exactly why.

"Why not? " He said with faux-innocence.

"Because! " You exclaimed, pushing his elbow off of your head, but he put it right back. You tried twice more, but failed.

"I just don't feel comfortable doing my spells in front of people, okay? Stop asking, you're really starting to piss me off. " You hoped that now he finally got the hint.

At first, you were hopeful. He lifted his arm from your head, and put his hands up in surrender. As he walked back, you turned your attention to your crystals. You picked a couple you thought were necessary for tonight, right as you heard Daniel speak.

"Not even if I'm in a different room, just listening? "

You slammed your hands on the armrests of your chair, spinning around to where Daniel sat next to Armand on the couch.

"Armand. " You said sternly. "Get your fledgling! " You stared at his face until he finally met your gaze. His golden eyes were filled with confusion. You flit your eyes in Daniel's direction, who was now currently scrolling on his phone with not a care in the world.

Armand turned to look at Daniel.

"Beloved. "

"Hm? "

"You may think that you are free to poke and prod to gain whatever knowledge you seek, but that is not the case at all. " His face minutely altered, almsot doll-like in nature. "It's best to respect that not everything needs to be stared in the face to acknowledge its existence. "

"Hey, I'm not saying what she does isn't real. I'm just a little curious- "

"Just say nosy. You're nosy, Daniel. "

He smacked his lips before continuing, "All I'm asking is to see my girlfriend in action. Is that a crime? " He was asking Armand, but you felt like it was your place to respond. Unfortunately, Armand had a habit of saying what you thought before you.

"It is not. But that does not grant you the right to break her boundaries in favor of your wants, Daniel. "

You sighed, pinching your brows. "Thanks, Armand, but I really don't need you to speak for me. I can do that just fine by myself. "

Armand looked like he disagreed, but kept his mouth shut. Daniel was unreadable, but had finally stopped scrolling. You pointed at him.

"You. Drop it. " You moved your finger to point at Armand. "Thank you for backing me up. But please refrain from reading my thoughts to do so, okay? "

You turned your attention once more to your items, focusing on writing in your journal for your intentions in your ritual tonight. You didn't notice the way Daniel's annoyance spiked. But Armand did, and he quickly tugged Daniel by his curls before returning to his iPad. That set Daniel hissing, but otherwise he got the hint.

The slam of the door ten minutes later following Daniel's departure didn't make you or Armand flinch. You sighed.

"He'll get over it, dear. You'll see, there's no need to feel guilty for establishing a boundary. "

"Armand, what did I just say about reading my mind? "

—

You were starting to get worried. It was day three of Daniel's petty tantrum, and there was no sign of him returning. You had asked Armand if he sensed his fledging, considering the severed psychic connection didn’t allow for direct communication, but he came up empty-handed.

You paced in your bedroom, Armand already in bed, iPad still in hand. You were starting to bite your nails when you finally spoke.

"I think I'm gonna do a finding spell to figure out where he is. Maybe not now, my amber's not properly charged. " You nibbled your thumb. "I'll go ahead and get it so I can use it tomorrow. " You rushed out of the room, asking Armand as you left,

"It's a full moon tonight, right, Armand? "

Tap tap tap, "Yes, darling, I'm sure of it. " He responded.

You returned, amber in hand, setting it on your dresser alongside your many other crystals. You made sure to leave the curtains open just a tad, to allow a trickle of moonlight to wash over the gems.

Satisfied at the sight and a glimmer of hope in your eyes, you settled under the covers next to Armand. The side of the bed where Daniel slept next to you was extra cold without his stupid, solid frame teasing you as you tried to fall asleep.

Armand finally set his iPad to the side in favor of offering his arms to hold you. You hestitated before settling into his arms. Your stature made it easy for him to spoon and coddle you. One of your favorite pastimes (and Armand's as well, you suspect) was spending hours in his embrace. The way his fingertips traced your features over and over, memorizing each mole, freckle, scar, or otherwise distinct characteristic was reverent. He made you feel so loved, his unblinking stare unnerving to most, but something you found to be especially intimate.

You sighed into his neck, inhaling his scent before saying, "Maybe I could've told him I was fine with describing it instead of flat out rejecting him. "

Armand's hands found the back of your head, stroking it as he hummed, "But were you fine with it? He has been especially demanding as of late. "

You half-heartedly shrugged, "I know he doesn't mean any harm. It's just…this is an important part of me. And I appreciate how interested and nonjudgmental you both are, but it just gets to a point, y'know? " You nuzzled his chest, and you smiled at how that must've startled him, at least based on the way his movements halted before continuing.

"There are still things I don't feel comfortable sharing, at least not yet. You've always been good about understanding, why can't Danny? Is it cause of the age difference? " You muttered, sleep beginning to overtake you, but not entirely.

Armand sighed, "Daniel has always been exceptional at pushing boundaries. He views it as an act of love, the way he endlessly pokes and prods to learn more about you. "

You snorted before Armand continued.

"I truly do not think that his journalistic instinct will ever be hindered. If anything, it has only grown in intensity since his turning. " At the sound of your eyes rolling, he began rubbing your shoulders, instantly making you melt.

"But I have a feeling that he will see the error of his ways and allow you to continue your craft in peace. " He finished.

You made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a hum, "Psh, yeah, right. The day that happens will be the day Hell freezes over. Or the day he admits he was wrong. Both of which will never happens. " It was the last thing you remember saying before finally passing out due to Armand's magic touch.

"You never know, darling. You never know. "

—

You woke up still in Armand's arms, but you felt something else pressed against your back. You lifted your head to look behind you as far as you could.

It was Daniel. He was in his classic sleepwear combo, an old t-shirt of his from the 90's and a pair of comfortable pants. If you didn’t know any better you would think that he was just another old man. But his lack of blood circulation and piercing yellow eyes said otherwise.

You loosened yourself from Armand's hold to face Daniel. You stared at his sleeping face, the rise and fall of his chest moreso instinctual than necessary for survival.

You poked his face. He twitched, but didn't stir.

"Daniel. " You whispered. Nothing, not even a stutter of his breath.

"Daniel, wake the fuck up or I swear I'll push you off this bed. "

Golden pupils met your furious gaze. You felt your heart rate steadily increase. The sight of Daniel carefree and relaxed in your bed after you were ready to start chasing him made your rage steadily ramp in intensity.

"Where have you been. " You said, voice still drowsy despite your best efforts to sound stern.

"Out thinking. " He responded quietly.

"About what? I hope it's about what you plan on doing to make up for making me worried sick. "

Surprisingly, he looked rather..remorseful? It was strangely sincere, so unlike the unabashedly humorous way Daniel often navigated scenarios like these. He kept his eyes down, and propped himself up on his elbow. You stared at him like he was an extraterrestrial, and he spoke softly.

"I don't want you to think that I'm just using you for entertainment. That's not why I'm with you. " You blinked, searching for any hint of this taking a sarcastic tone, but found none.

"I shouldn't have pushed for you to reveal everything about being a witch right away, that was…stupid isn't even the right word. More like ignorant and entitled. "

You wanted to interject and say that was already his default way of existing, but you held your tongue. His other hand found your cheek and began to rub.

"I won't up and leave like that again. I promise. " He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before laying back down. You blinked a few times.

"Danny, was that your attempt at an apology? "

He didn't respond, but the light smirk on his face told you all you needed to know. You scoffed.

"That was the shittiest apology I've ever heard in my life. I would say I can't believe it, but I guess now I can! " You shook your head in disbelief.

"I'm gonna go back to sleep and when I wake up, you better have something good up your sleeve. "

Daniel didn't respond, but you thought you heard him whisper 'okay, short stack' before you angrily turned and buried your face in Armand's chest.

Armand opened his eyes right as Daniel rubbed a hand over his face. They ensured you were unconscious before either spoke.

"Shame on you for preparing such a subpar apology for our beautiful partner, Daniel. " Armand whispered. Daniel quickly whispered loudly.

"You were the one who helped me with that 'subpar apology', don't even start trying to blame this square on me! "

"Hush, Daniel. Lest you wish to make her morning even worse than it already is. " Armand traced his fingers against your spine, reveling in your subconcious shiver.

"Well I don't intend to be hexed, not today, not ever. " Daniel responded before flinging the blanket off of his body and getting up.

"What are you planning, Daniel? " Armand questioned.

"Homemade food always puts her in a good mood. Maybe that and a workshopped apology will put me back in her good graces, too. " Daniel said before heading to the kitchen.

Armand looked down at you, so still and innocent.

It was a miracle you hadn't hexed either of them, he thought as the sound of Daniel's ruckus caused you to flinch awake and groan.

It wasn't small by any means, you had enough room for a small garden and a shed in the back where you housed all your father's tools. You and your mother always teased your father about his lack of impulse control when it came to buying work equipment. He never made any quips back, he would just scratch his head and go back to work. This extended to the amount of household supplies he would purchase at stores.

You suspected he had an underlying need to always be in control, and that piled up quite literally in the amount of toiletries and canned food that had stocked up. Looking back, you had to give your father credit.

Without his paranoia, you might have never survived this long.

In the beginnning, all you heard were whispers of something killing animals. Briefly there was panic that it was another pathogenic pandemic, but it was quickly discovered that was not the case.

It was people.

People with fangs deep enough to puncture any vein in the human or an animal's body. People who were no longer stopped by bullets or any other weapon that others used on them. People that spontaneously combusted in the sunlight, slowly killed by fire, and who were basically walking corpses.

You laughed until your sides hurt when you realized what they were. Vampires. They were real, not something from stories or sparkly actors on TV. They existed and they stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. You were tempted to throw out your merchandise of a famous franchise with those same creatures, but you decided to keep it; to remind yourself that irony can still exist in this godforsaken new world.

It was almost evening, the sun sinking lower over the flat terrain that spanned as far as the eye could see. You sat in one of the rocking chairs your father had made for you and your mother. She was always fond of sitting outside whenever the cooler seasons came about. You sticked to sitting in your own chair. The wind caused the empty chair to rock back and forth to make it seem like someone else was sitting beside you.

You tapped your foot and listened for anything out of the ordinary. Birds were less commonplace. You assumed that it was because of the lack of humans in the area that caused the vampires to eat animals instead.

The sun had finally set.

There was nothing at first, at least that you could hear. But in the far distance you were able to catch something moving. It was one of those…weird ones. The kind of vampires that looked more like a corpse than a human. And it was heading towards your home. Without wasting any time to potentially catch its attention, you bolted out of your chair and deadbolted the door behind you.

You ran to the very back of your home into your room, locking and barricading your door as well. Superhuman strength or not, the precautions you took would buy you some time. But your main hope was that it would find the empty field that made up your backyard, maybe get stuck in one of the many holes you dug at the start of your lone survival.

It was silent, with no sounds of it trying to break in. You moved as quietly as you could to the window next your childhood bed.

As you peered out between the blinds, you prayed to whatever God was still listening that it would just go far far away from you and your home. That you wouldn't have to do what you had been doing whenever a vampire wandered onto your land.

Unfortunately, you saw its form stalk into your field of vision.

Its skin was pallid and rotting. It was balding as well, the lack of hair exposing a putrid scalp and cracked skin. No doubt it smelled grotesque as well.

You kneeled and reached underneath your bed for a box. Inside was all the material you used to…get rid of them.

You grabbed the alcohol bottle and stuffed a piece of cloth inside of it, grabbing a lighter as well. You lifted the miniblinds and opened your window. The thing was still limping in your field, not alerted to your presence just yet.

Carefully, you leaned the upper half of your body out the window, bottle in one hand, lighter in the other. You flicked the lighter, sparks flying but not igniting. By the fourth try, you were panicking. The thing still hadn't seen you, but your fingers were shaking from the fear that it might.

In your haste to set fire to the cloth, you dropped the lighter. Cursing internally, you give up on getting rid of the zombie and shut your window and blinds as quickly as you could.

You had successfully killed three vampire…zombies? All the previous times were via molotov cocktail and all three times you had forced yourself to watch them burn in the field.

The smell of their burning flesh and their piercing screams have followed you ever since. To rationalize your decision, you told yourself that they weren't even human anymore. Their brains no doubt shut down the moment they pursued flesh and blood in place of other food.

They weren't human, and you were doing them the favor. From afar, of course.

Sitting on the ground in front of your now closed window, knees to your chest, you wondered what your parents would think of you now. Their only surviving child, hiding like a coward and using molotov cocktails to kill people vampires in the name of keeping themself safe.

You would laugh, but instead you froze any and all movement the moment you saw a shadow cover you from outside your window.

You covered your mouth muffle your gasp. The shadow was moving, its noises audible despite the glass barrier. You flinched as you heard a thump against the window, and your hand found the alcohol bottle once more. Despite a lack of ignition, you grasped onto it in case you needed something to throw.

Your heart was pounding, sending blood rushing to your ears and the overpowering feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The whitekunckled grip you had on the bottle caused a dull pain that your nervous system ignored.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the shadow disappeared, and you heard nothing from outside.

You slowly stood and looked out between the blinds.

Nothing was there. You were safe, at least for now.

You sat on the edge of your bed, still clutching the unlit makeshift explosive. It wasn't until much later, when you finally made your way into the restroom that you realized you were crying.

—

The next morning would be better, that you could be certain. You would make it better. Given the isolated nature of your home, you had to rely on the provisions you already had.

You tried your hand at scavenging a couple weeks back. You barely made it to your first house before you turned back.

The smell was awful.

Luckily, thanks to your father's paranoia, combined with your perpetual anxiety about your safety, you rarely ate full meals. You prefered to eat little snacks here and there, and it seemed to do the trick.

You were getting worried about water, though.

While you collected rainwater in barrels near the side of your house for recreational along with nutritional use, you were down to one barrel. And you promised yourself you'd only start drinking the water bottles you had in case things got more dire. You stared at the ceiling of your bedroom, still laying in your pajamas.

"Today is going to be just fine. You'll see. " You whispered. Optimism, despite how inconvienent it was in a world like this, was one of the only things keeping you going.

You sat yourself up at the same time you heard a gunshot go off.

You sprang up, hesitating before running towards the front door of the house. You peered through the peephole, then the side window that was covered by a curtain. From there, you could see a person running through the land, being chased by what looked like a pack of wild dogs.

You removed yourself from the window and backed away from the door.

"Please don't come here. Please don't come here. " You whispered once more, clasping your hands together like that would help your pleas come true. You continued taking steps backward, eventually turning before-

BAM! BAM! BAM!

You jumped as the knob of your door began to shake.

"HEY! Is anyone here?! Oh God, please!! " It was a male's voice, maybe around your age. He banged on the door again, and you covered your ears.

Bringing someone in, risking your safety for a man you didn't know wasn’t smart. But you don't think you could live with yourself if you just let a person die on your front porch.

You unlocked a side window leading to your roof and your bedroom window. You picked up as many rocks on the ground as you could and shoved them into your pockets. The sound of barking and the man's pleas grew louder as you climbed to the top of your house.

You caught sight of the dogs just as they were about to make it to your front yard. You dug into your pockets, took aim, and began throwing the rocks.

You felt bad for them. They were diseased, likely infected by rabies and whatever else those monsters brought to the world. The rocks seemed to grab their attention away from the man, who had quieted, and towards you instead.

They snarled and snapped, trying to climb up the side of the house and tear you apart. But that didn't happen. Instead, you army crawled to the other side of your home near your bedroom, clambered your way back in and went back to the front of the house.

You pressed youself as close as possible to the door for him to hear, clearing your throat.

"They're far enough away now, you can go. " You said.

"Please let me in. " He begged, and you chewed the bottom of your lip.

"I can't do that. " You replied.

"Can't or won't?! You don't know what it's like out here, man, I just need a place to stay! " His tone shifted to one of desperation and you knew you made the right choice not opening your home to him.

"I'm sorry. Please go. " You responded and began walking away once more. Like you should've the first time.

"Oh, come on! Come on, open the door! " He slammed what sounded like his palm against the door, but you continued on.

You shut yourself in your room and took to reading a book to take your mind off of the only other person you had seen in weeks. The same person who might have been eaten alive by dogs or vampires or who knows what else because of you.

You made it ten pages before the noises ceased entirely.

By the time you made it onto the porch, the man and the dogs were gone. Well, most of them.

There was a dead dachshund on your porch.

You recognized it as Caramel, one of your neighbors dogs. You never interacted with your neighbor much, but Caramel was always outside running around, a little happy bundle of energy.

And now here he was, as still as you ever saw him, on your porch. You didn't want to think about how scared he must've been in his final moments. Instead, you took a towel from your bathroom, wrapped his little body up, and took him to your backyard.

You laid his body gingerly on the ground and began digging a hole as fast as you could with your hands. Despite knowing that the vampires were only active at night, you wanted to spend as little time as possible outside. The rooftop attack alone had your mind moving on autopilot and at risk of shortcircuiting. But this was for Caramel, an innocent dog that just wanted to survive, same as you.

As soon as you dug as deep as you could manage, you placed Caramel into the hole. Taking a deep breath, you tried not to sob as you began covering the towel with dirt. That notion failed almost immediately as your eyes became more blurry the more dirt you added.

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance, and that was it.

You bolted, hands covered in dirt and sweaty from the adrenaline pumping through your being. You slammed the door behind you and locked it before slumping down into a pile of sobs and dry heaving.

You couldn't even bring yourself to give a dog a proper burial; what kind of a coward were you?

That question, along with many others, went unanswered as you attempted to lift yourself up. It took a couple of tries, but you did it. You needed to eat, maybe drink some water, too. You opened one of your limited supply of water bottles and took a shaky sip. There was a can of peaches staring at you from the corner of your food stack. You grabbed it and popped it open, inhaling their sweet smell. You sipped that, too, chewing on your peaches on the floor.

No amount of optimism would have helped you turn this into a better day.

—

A few days went by without incident. On the fourth day, as you were contemplating trying again to go out and scavenge, it rained. You almost started shouting with joy, but you stifled that in favor of a fist pump. You watched your open barrels of rainwater fill up and overflow from your kitchen window. You'd have to go out and lid them once it stopped raining before anything had a chance to lay their eggs in the water.

With scavenging off the table, you busied yourself with organizing your food supply. Then you organized your clothing. Eventually, though, with how limited your space was, you had nothing left to sort.

Pleased with how tidy everything was, you settled into your bed. You pulled the blankets to your chest, one of your favorite, well-loved books in your hands.

You began reading out loud, mostly for yourself, since you didn't want to go hoarse from not speaking very often, and to fill the house with something more than your noises of distress.

The pattering of rain against the house and the rumble of thunder was nostalgic. It reminded you of spending nights like these between your parents when you were still small enough to sleep in their bed.

You were on the cusp of fully letting sleep overttake you, book falling from your grasp when-

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You immediately jolted up, pulse skyrocketing. At first, you thought you were hallucinating, the stress of your situation finally breaking you, when you heard it again.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

It was a polite knocking that you were no longer used to hearing.

You started to shut your door, barricade, cover your ears until everything stopped.

But then there was a little voice in your head telling you that the person knocking wanted to help you. Perhaps they just were just checking if you were in danger, and you should let them know you're okay.

You shook your head, not even recognizing that train of thought. What if they were dangerous? Or they knew you were alone and vulnerable, and they wanted to hurt you in order to take the house for themselves?

The risk was too great.

But so was rejecting possible aid. Not everyone had bad intentions, and there was no harm in asking behind the safety of your door.

There was no harm in asking.

There was no harm in asking.

You blinked, and all of a sudden, you found yourself with your hand on the unlocked front doorknob. Before you could question how you could walk from your bed to the door without realizing it, you were already opening the door.

It wasn't just one man knocking.

On your porch, soaked from head to toe, were two men. One of them was younger, with dark curls and piercing golden eyes. The other was old enough to be your grandfather, with silver curls and sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.

Before you got the urge to slam the door in their faces, the younger man spoke.

"Hello there. I apologize for the interruption, but would you mind if we come in? It's awfully wet out here. " His tone was polite, but his eyes...

They weren't blinking.

Your head was feeling light, suddenly, but you managed a slight shake and responded,

"Uh…I'm sorry, but I can't let you in. "

"Why not? You got the room. " The older man said, his arms crossing over his chest.

"I just, " You swayed, but you caught yourself. "Don't feel comfortable-"

"Letting strange men into your home? " The one with dark curls finished for you. "I can assure you, we are not a threat. " He took a step forward, and you wanted to bolt into the safety of your room. But you couldn't.

"Listen, I think we'd all be better off you just let us in, okay? " The other one spoke.

You blinked, trying to gain your bearings in front of these men, but it was getting harder and harder to stay on your feet.

Against your better judgment and everything in your body screaming at you to run away and tell these men to do the same, you relented. You moved to the side, allowing both of them to enter your home without any more conflict.

As soon as you bolted the door behind you, the queasiness you were experiencing vanished. You stood straighter, staring at the men staring at you.

You gulped.

"Are you two gonna kill me? " You asked, eyes flickering between the two of them.

They looked at each other at the same time before sliding their gaze to you.

"No. " The younger one responded, finally remembering to blink.

"Not unless you give us a reason to. " The one with silver curls bluntly stated.

You almost collapsed on the spot, but you somehow found the strength to continue standing. You nodded, trying to play along with them in hopes that they would find your submission to be favorable.

"Uhm. There's another room in the back, next to mine. " You pointed to the back of the house, and neither of them reacted.

"Mine has the open door, the other one has a bed, some dry clothes you two can change into. " Those clothes were left behind by your parents when they moved out. They claimed it was something to remember them by, but you knew that it was just old clothes they didn't want anymore.

"Is it just you living here? " The older man said increduously. "I thought someone as jumpy as you would've kicked the bucket by now. "

"Daniel. " The other man said, and you were stunned at how demanding his tone was compared to before. The older one, Daniel, only put his hands up in defense.

"No offense, but I mean, " He gestured at you before clearing his throat. The younger man was glaring daggers at Daniel. You wanted to leave as fast as you could, but Daniel prevented you from doing so. He stuck out his hand to you and said,

"The name's Daniel Molloy. This, " He jerked his head to the man behind him, "Is Armand. No last name, as far as I know. How about you? "

You stared at his hand before taking it. His grip was strong, and as you shook hands, you introduced yourself with your name. Just go along with it, you told yourself, maybe they'd move on in the morning.

"Thanks for letting us in, that was smart. C'mon, Armand, let's get out of these duds. " Daniel put his hands in his pockets before sauntering through your space like he owned it. Armand followed close behind, staring at you until it was physically impossible.

It was the moment you heard the door close that you lost it. You collapsed onto the ground, catching yourself on one knee and trying your best to regulate your breathing.

This was the first time in several months that someone else had been in the house other than you. The first time you had talked to anyone other than yourself, and occassionally the inanimate objects in your kitchen. And now, everything was going to be out of place and wrong and you can't fix it because you can't just put these men in a spot because you can't trust them!

You can't even trust yourself, much less a couple of strangers who could do God knows what to you!

You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to stop your heart from beating a thousand miles a minute. You told yourself to breathe until you were able to do it automatically again.

You were fine. They hadn't emerged yet, and they weren't going to hurt you. As long as you didn't give them a reason to, you reminded yourself.

What that meant, you had no clue. And you sure as hell had no intention of finding out.