#vampire caretaker

Another vampire. A strange vampire. A vampire who had likely been a vampire for far longer than Whumpee. An enemy vampire?

"Who are you?" Whumpee barked.

"Don't get your hackles up," the stranger said with a smile. "But seriously, your nose should be better by now. That guy on the ground is blackout drunk. You drank their blood?"

Blackout... Whumpee sniffed the air. They could smell alcohol. How did they not smell it on his blood before?

"How old are you? Have you ever had a shot before? Doesn't look it. But I know looks can be deceiving with our kind."

"I've only been a vampire for a day," Whumpee admitted, embarrassed. They were slurring their words now. Great. They'd never drunk before. They weren't legal. "I'm 17."

"A child," the stranger said with a faraway look in their eyes.

"I'm a vampire nonetheless!" they said, trying to stand their ground and not freak out now that they were drunk and in the company of someone who looked like they'd seen mankind rise and fall.

"I'm not your enemy," they said, and Whumpee could finally relax a little.

"So why are you still here? To laugh at me?"

"I'll help you," they said. "You'd be prime target for hunters like this, inebriated as you are."

Whumpee blinked. "Help?" They... hadn't had a lot of help recently. Their friends abandoned them when the vampire attacked their group. They'd been drained and woke up turned. In the past day, no one came looking for them. When the sun finally set, they set out alone, and now they had drunk from this stupid drunkard...

"Yes, help," they said, bringing Whumpee back to the present. "My name is Caretaker."

"Whumpee," they said, still in a daze. "What do I do to get... less drunk?"

He had given her blood – and it had helped some – but he still visited her almost every day with bandages and salves. His hands were infuriatingly gentle, grip just firm enough to pull her wounded arm away from her. No matter how many visits there had been, she couldn’t stop curling around it. There was a routine, now: he would kneel by the bed, ask for her arm with a gentle ‘May I?’, apologise when she wouldn’t extend it and he had to pull it away from her. She couldn’t stop the pang of fear every time she opened her eyes to see that hand reaching toward her.

He didn’t try to force conversation. He only made… remarks. Coos and reassurances when he was dealing with the worst parts of her wound. Even when she had hissed at him – like the rabid little monster she was, now – he had only chuckled.

She had observed him the last few visits; it was easier than looking at her charred bones. Sometimes his eyes had flicked up and met hers, and he had smiled – just a twitch of the lips, no showing his fangs – no matter what expression she made.

She got bold enough to ask after almost a week. She had intended to demand, but the words wouldn’t make it past her throat.

“How long do you intend to keep me here?”

There was something a little like alarm in his eyes when he glanced up, but his fingers were still gently spreading the salve.

“You’re not a prisoner, dear.”

A hiss made his way past her fangs, stopped only when she dug them into his lips. He let go of her arm, slowly sitting back on his haunches to look at her properly. “You are not. I apologise if I gave you that impression, but I don’t – I am not your captor.”

She couldn’t stop the angry snort, either. It wasn’t very smart of her to piss off the vampire but – nothing had happened for a very long time, and her life had not prepared her for that. “But you won’t let me go.”

He considered her for a moment, tilting his head. “Not… immediately, no. You’re hurt, for one.”

It was his fault. Despite what he had said, he hadn’t moved her from the room. The window had been carefully caulked after she’d refused him when he had offered to help her look. He had even proposed to light up the domain so she’d have something to watch – domain, which meant there wouldn’t be any landmarks for her to situate herself.

“…I can take care of myself.”

He only looked up at her sadly, and for the first time she saw him hesitate over his words.

“You- Dear… Where would you go? You cannot stand in the sun, cannot approach humans yet…” She froze. Her plans had always been to meet up with her family. He was shaking his head, really looking like he wanted to convince her. “I wouldn’t let a fledgling roam my land freely.”

She shuffled back on the bed, moving away from him slowly. “Let me out, then. I swear I won’t come back.” Pleading never seemed to affect him, but maybe-

“I’m not irresponsible. I don’t kill – and I count the victims an abandoned fledgling would cause as murders. And I don’t think you want to kill, either.”

“I can’t get out just because you think I couldn’t control myself. You killed me, that doesn’t give you the right to control me.”

A flash of hurt appeared on his face, then disappeared in a breath. She stilled. His tone was firmer when he answered next. More rehearsed.

“And you have my sincerest apologies. I deeply regret my actions, and we can talk about… consequences and explanations once you’re more… recovered. That doesn’t mean I’ll let you out to cause a slaughter both of us will regret.”

“You don’t know that I’ll cause a slaughter.”

She really wanted to yell, but the words were harder to push out with every sentence. It wasn’t the usual fear, she felt... something from him that made her want to curl up in front of him.

He smiled sadly at her. “You struggle to resist my blood, dear. Human blood… I fear you’d lose yourself.” He added something when she opened her mouth to retort. He was back to soothing, “I’ll bring some blood for you, alright? If you don’t fall into a frenzy, I’ll send you on your way, I promise.”

Some part of her really meant to question him about the blood. Only her pathetic need for reassurance made it out. “…Really?”

He looked so earnest, nodding at her with a somewhat-happier smile. “I swear, my dear. Will you come closer? I’ll finish taking care of your arms and then I’ll fetch some blood, alright?”

She shuffled closer, almost managing to extend her arm towards him – he still had to lean forward quite a bit, but it was progress. His fingers were just as gentle as before when they reached her wrist, turning it this or that way to better reach. He looked up at her with a small smile. “I meant to tell you – I think your fingers are almost completely healed. The bones, at least. Things will go much faster, now.” There was a happy tilt to his voice, and when he carefully bandaged her hand he was humming happily.

He stood up slowly, carefully put away the bandages and tools. “I’ll fetch the blood now, alright? Wait just a moment.”

He was gone just like that, carefully closing the door behind him without even pausing at the thought of touching silver. She couldn’t hear anything as she shuffled near the edge of the bed, trying to ready herself. She stood up and took just a few, hesitant steps towards the door before feeling the influence of silver. She considered pushing forward but her strength was being sapped quickly enough that she thought she’d faint. She sat back on the bed and waited.

The door opened and she tensed, though the vampire looked just as at ease as usual. He closed the door and leant against it. She tried not to stare – silver etchings? Digging into his back? Did he not feel them? – as he showed her a vial. “This is human blood. The scent will spread once I open it. We’ll see how you react, alright? No matter what happens, it'll be alright, dear.”

It all went very quickly after that.

Her sire dropped the vial and its cap when she lunged forward, trying to stop her from crashing into the door. She was trashing wildly in his grab, deaf to his reassurances, desperate to drop to the floor and reach the blood.

(Some of it weren’t reassurances – a swear escaped him, then an apology along a I didn’t think this through.)

He dragged her away, apologising with every step amidst the constant stream of reassurances and coos and comforting words he kept. Nothing registered, of course.

She was trying to fight him, nails turned to claws digging into his back, swiping at his face, throat, arms – anything she could reach. Bucking and growling, the mindless struggles of a starving beast. He only tightened his grip – more an embrace than anything – and tried to soothe her.

She tried to bargain then, her struggles calming slightly – but never stopping – as she pleaded and begged and offered anything she could think of if he would just let go. Babbling pleas and hungry chirps that made him apologise. Pleas turned to wordless whines turned to desperate sobs as her frenzied mind struggled to understand the situation. She felt so hungry, and he was keeping her away from her food and she didn't understand.

She was fully sobbing into his ruined shirt, chest trembling with her cries and still twitching weakly to reach the blood. He kept up the stream of words, trying to soothe her, gently stroking her back.

“Oh, everything’s alright dearest- please don’t cry, please, dear one, I apologise, please, please, don’t cry, I’m so sorry, please- oh no, my darling, fledgling, there’s no need to be upset, please, don’t be upset, don’t cry, oh, darling, please, it’s okay, darling, everything is-”

The realisation finally hit her. Maybe his words, maybe the scent of his blood, something managed to break through. She was throwing a tantrum – like a little child asking for a treat. She still couldn’t stop reaching for the blood. The spilled blood on the floor some part of her brain wanted to crawl toward and lick of the carpet because she was a rabid monster, now.

Her sobs trailed off slowly. She slowly dug her claws out of him, trying to turn them back into nails. A stupid whimper escaped her when she failed to do even that, and he jumped to reassure her.

“It’s alright, darling. They’ll turn back in a bit, once you’ve fully calmed down.”

She wondered why he hadn’t ordered her to stop – though maybe in her state the command wouldn’t have registered.

“I’m sorry, dear. I know better, I should… I shouldn’t have.”

She was too spent to react, almost limp against him – only those stupid spasms left – as he explained that he’d replace the carpet, and feed her again, and teach her and find anything she asked for, really.

“I can’t leave.” Her voice was resigned, slightly muffled because she hadn’t managed to get her face away from his throat – where she had tried to bite him to make him let go and he had just let her because fledgling fangs weren’t enough to hurt him, apparently – and she didn’t really want to look at the mess she’d caused. “I’m a monster.”

She felt sobs form in her chest again, emotions still running high. He was still stroking her back, trying to reassure her.

“Oh, fledgling… You’ll learn, in just a few months – years, at most – we’ll be able to go out. I’ll come with you, anywhere you want to go, dearest. Please don’t be upset, it’s alright, it’s expected, I won’t let you hurt anyone-”