#palaye

Sebastian sat by the fire at his favourite bistro. The smell of the leather couch under him and  the whisky in his hands both calmed him, but the fire reflected memories in his eyes. 

He was grateful he was alone tonight. 

How long had it been since he had seen Y/N’s face?? A hundred years, at least. Not since Guinevere. No, he couldn’t think about that. It wasn’t the 1700s anymore. It was the 2020s. He was safe. His brothers were safe. That dark night couldn’t touch them anymore. 

But the truth was Y/N wasn’t safe. Just as Gwen wasn’t. If only he could go back. 

Rain poured alongside the blood, and thunder covered the sounds of screams. If he had taken the deal, it would have worked in his favour. There would be one less body.

The night had started simply. 

The doors to the manor opened up as men in cloaks burst through. 

They were silent, all black figures. But the man in the center, a foot taller than the others, was recognised by Sebastian. Both knew the cloak was unnecessary. But then what was this all for if not a little showmanship? 

“You’ve taken her. Haven't you.” Sebastian asked the question as a statement, an icy chill settling in his stomach.

The hooded man’s silence was the only response he needed. 

Sebastian nodded. Took a deep breath. A swig of his liquor. And threw the glass at the hooded man, who dodged and the glass shattered against the walls. 

Chaos was unleashed as Sebastian fought tooth and nail to pummel the tall man into the ground, or at least fight his way past, unmask these bastards, break free, find Gwen. Protect her. 

He did all he could. 

But he was only one man. Before long, he was held down by three hooded figures, and the tallest man leaned close to his ear, only his green eyes visible through the shadow of the hood. 

“You should have joined me.” the man sighed. “But since you didn’t join me… I guess you are against me. We shall have some fun, you and I.”

A sharp sting tore at his neck as he was bitten, changed forever.

That night was the worst of Sebastian’s life. He fought, his brothers fought, startled into chaos and leaping in to protect their brother, although they did not yet know why, as primal instincts kicked in as bodies took action to defend themselves from the assault of fists and knives... but it was pointless. By morning light, they were vampires, and the bodies piled high. Guinevere was dead, so were half the manor’s staff and men in cloaks, faceless beasts just adding to the bloodshed.

From what Sebastian could tell, Remington had blocked a lot of it out, or somehow didn't remember. Emerson escaped into his art. But it was never far from Sebastian’s mind, the burden of being the only one to know the truth of that night. There were nights he thought it would kill him. That was, until he met Larisa. He didn’t think he could love anyone quite like he loved Gwen until he met Larisa. He started to believe that for the next 50 years, he could be happy, safe. Maybe even have a family.

Then Y/N showed up. A reminder of his oldest enemy and oldest companion. Oldest wounds. 

He remembered the hooded man scooping your unconscious body off the concrete, fangs still dripping with blood. Sebastian knew why you were taken. He just didn’t know you survived. And he could never tell his brothers. 

If Y/N was back, that means no one was safe. Anything could have happened to the many involved in that sick game. Maybe he was killed, maybe they were all safe, and that’s how Y/N survived. But Sebastian had a strong suspicion that this was just the start.

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