#vamp!frank

It all started when Frank got into a fight with some weird guys from across town. He was jumped by these dudes who thought they were from the 1920s or something. Since then he has been acting really weird. Sleeping all day, getting weird cravings, and overall looking really sickly and almost dead. Gerard, Mikey, and Ray were doing everything they could to help him, but Frank was refusing to see a doctor. They were at their wits end until Gerard was approached by Pete and Patrick.

“He isn’t sick, but there isn’t a cure.” Pete told Gerard.

“What are you talking about? Frank just has a really intense stomach flu or something, we have it under control.” Gerard said, defensive over his friend. 

“What stomach flu makes a man look dead? Makes him sleep all day and gives him uncontrollable urges at night? I can already tell you that about this time he has cold sweats, is shaking and vomiting up anything you're trying to give him.” Pete growls, ready to pounce on Gerard. 

Patrick put an arm in front of Pete, holding him back from Gerard before speaking. “We know what's wrong with him, but it’s not as simple as just treating it like a cold.” 

Just then Patrick gets a text on his phone. “Shit, there’s rumors of another swarm that’s been picking people off by Make-Out Point. We have to go re-group with the guys.” Patrick tell’s Pete, putting his phone back in his pocket and pulling out an old beaten up journal. “Here, you're going to need this. This will tell you everything you need to know to help out your friend and to protect yourselves.” 

Gerard takes the journal skeptically, but willing to try anything at this point. He flips the journal open, seeing pages upon pages of recipes, rituals, and other entries. Gerard looks up to question the two, but the strange duo is gone without a trace. 

Gerard takes the journal back to the rest of the guys, showing them the entries and telling them what Pete and Patrick had told him. 

“This thing says to mix holy water, garlic, and human blood and to give it to him, man. I don't know about this.” Ray says, flipping through the pages.

“I read one of them that said we have to have a weekly visit from a priest to come and bless him. Even has a number of a priest that quote ‘understands the situation’ end quote” Mikey says, mocking the entry that he was referring to.

Just then Frank stumbles into the room, covered in sweat and clutching his stomach. “Let's do it.” He says, nearly falling.

 Gerard bolts up, rushing to stabilize his friend and guide him to a chair. “No dude, this is just a bunch of psycho rambling. Whatever you have, we can fix it with some cold medicine and rest.” 

Frank growls, “We’ve been trying cold medicine for weeks now. I sleep all day, there isn’t any more rest I can be getting! ...I’ve been having nightmares when I sleep, they’re all the same. Flashes of me covered in blood, and you guys laying lifeless at my feet.” Frank’s expression softens, “I’m tired of this and I’m willing to try anything at this point.”

Gerard looks at Frank with a sorrowful expression. “Ok.”, he says.

“Wait, seriously? You’re going to go through with this crazy stuff?” Ray says, a little shocked at Gerard’s willingness to comply with the odd manual.

“We have to at least try. If it doesn’t work then we stop.” Gerard says, giving Ray a serious look. 

Ray sighs, “Fine, But i'm not going to be the one bleeding for this, ok?”

“I’ll do it.” Mikey says, everyone turning towards him. “I’ll supply the blood. Luckily it doesn’t seem like we’ll be needing that much.” Gerard gives his brother a thankful smile.

“Ok.” Gerard says, “Let's get to work then.”

With that Ray, Mikey, and Gerard get to work following the instructions in the journal. Gerard calls the number in the book and informs the priest of the situation, Mikey starts the concoction that they are to feed to Frank, and Ray starts collecting all the crucifixes he can find. By 11 PM the priest finishes blessing Frank and the other preparations have been finished. 

“Here, we go, Frank. Now this probably isn't going to be pleasant.” Gerard says, bring the cup to Frank's mouth, letting him sip the mixture. As soon as the liquid touches Frank's lips, he starts coughing violently. Gerard pulls the cup away and rubs Frank’s back, trying to sooth his friend. 

“I told you this was a bunch of horse shit!” Ray says, “This entire journal was just some weird, sick prank from those guys! Just some freaks that-” Ray stops at the sound of Frank chugging the liquid. The three turn back to Frank, who is now standing, the bottom of the cup in the air as he swiftly gulps down the mix. With a loud sigh, Frank finishes the ghastly drink, crushing the plastic up in his hand. 

The three men stare in disbelief. Frank, who was nearly a corpse mere seconds ago, is now standing strong before them, looking as youthful as ever. Frank uses his sleeve to wipe the residue from this mouth, leaving a bloody streak across his face. “That’s better.” He says, dropping the cup to the ground.

“You were saying?” Mikey says, turning back to Ray. 

The four men read through more of the journal, following all the instructions to a T. Preparing more mixtures and rituals to help keep Frank stable. They even found a number to a blood bank that had shady practices so that Mikey wouldn’t have to keep bleeding for the holy water mixture. The group stayed up until 5 in the morning making everything so Frank could be comfortable. About an hour before sunrise, they got a knock on the door.

Gerard answered the door, a wooden stake and crucifix ready. He slowly creaked the door open, revealing Pete and Patrick. The two immediately notice the items that Gerard is holding, Pete hissing at the sight of the crucifix. 

“So, you actually followed my instructions.” Patrick says, a slight smirk on his face. 

Gerard put away the crucifix. “So, you knew what was wrong with him because he’s also one of them.” He says, motioning towards Pete. “And you're trying to hunt all the other ones to reverse it all, right? That’s why you had all those instructions for weapons in there too.” 

“That’s right.” Pete says.

“So now what, you’re here to take out Frank too?” Gerard says, clutching the stake in his hand.

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Patrick says, raising his hands. “Your friend is safe. So long as you keep his urges under control, then we have no reason to come after him.” 

Gerard lowers his weapon, feeling a sense of relief. 

“But, we could really use you guys, if you're willing to help. We’re always looking for more people on our side. The more of us there are, the quicker we can go through the bad ones and get our friends back to normal.” Patrick says, hopeful.

Gerard thinks for a second. “I’m sorry, but we can’t. Frank never has been one to have very good control. If we go out and try to do what you guys do, I'm afraid that he’ll get carried away and cause more trouble than help.” He says, with an apologetic expression. 

“No worries, we understand.” Patrick says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. “But if you ever change your mind, or if you just need some help, give me a call.” 

Gerard takes the paper and stuffs it in his pocket. Pete and Patrick turn away and begin to walk off, but before leaving, Patrick stops.

“Oh, and if you hear anything about any attacks or turf fights, don’t hesitate to call!” Patrick says, calling over his shoulder. With those final words Patrick begins walking off into the night. Pete lunges into the air and jumps rooftop to rooftop, disappearing just before the sun rises. 

Bonus!:

~A couple weeks after Gerard’s last encounter with Pete and Patrick.~ 

“Any word from the hunters?” Mikey asks his brother. 

“Nothing. I’ve tried calling and texting, no answer.” Gerard says. There has been a spike in activity around their side of town, more and more lurkers at night, making it hard to get supplies for Frank.

The four men jump as there is a knock at the door. The group ready themselves with weapons, crucifixes, and holy water as Gerard opens the door. Standing before them are the hunters, only this time they’ve changed, moonlight reflecting off their fangs. 

“We’ve hit a bit of a snag in the extermination process.” Patrick says, his own pair of fangs hanging in his mouth.