#vampire ray

Ray's fingers nervously dug into his frilly sleeve as he shifted from one foot to the other. "I'm sure... I think your flowers are a lot more beautiful in the moonlight. I can admire them all I want during the day inside, you know. It's not that much different than when I look during the evening before I head home."

While you understood Ray was anxious around the sunlight because of his sensitive scars, you still didn't understand why he tried his best to avoid the light like the plague. You knew sun damage could be the harshest thing on someone like him with scars that didn't have many layers beneath them to quell the UV rays but in the same vein, there were all kinds of creams and shades he could wear if he wanted to be outside during the day.

He worked from sunrise to sunset, never once making a point to set foot outside of the B&B until it was time for him to leave. He was very good at his job and it was no wonder your parents wanted him to stay on full-time considering how clean he kept things. But, you knew the cute boy in front of you yearned to be where you were. He wanted to be a gardener, too. But, since you'd had that job since you were a little kid, he never stood a chance at taking your title from you.

Ray didn't want to.

Which, you had a feeling that was why he settled so nicely into the maid position. He was happy knowing you were happy, and while it was all fine and well for him to settle in comfort, you'd seen the look in his eyes before that said he wanted more. Why else would he stare at the garden all day while you worked? That hungry look in his eyes... that was a thirst for the dirt beneath his fingertips. There wasn't any other explanation to show for his anxiety.

You'd reassured him time and time again that he could have fun in the garden, too, and there would never be any threat to yours or his job... but he didn't listen.

He always stepped into the shadows whenever a hand offered to bring him into the light. If it wasn't the fear of getting new burns or the fear of trying to undermine your role, you hadn't the slightest idea what kept him from pursuing the view he often admired from afar.

It bummed you out to see him hold himself back. It reminded you of the days when you were first getting to know one another! Back then, Ray had been so afraid of making mistakes that he wound himself up like a wind-up doll and tried to stick his routine on autopilot. He did a good job like that but anyone who looked at him could see he wasn't having a good time. These days he could smile, giggle, and even cut loose on the job whenever you found time for a break. He wasn't stiff anymore, but this seemed to be the only spot he wouldn't budge on.

"Alright," your hand fell to your side as you tried to hide your obvious disappointment. "I'll see you at the end of my shift, then. I have to do some work on the other side of the property before I close up for the day. But, I expect to take an evening stroll before we go home, Ray. I may not be able to admire the flowers during the day, but I'll be sure to take advantage of your moonlight!"

"Of course, [Y/N]. I-I promise I'll wait for you."

Ray licked his lips, offering a gentle wave to send you on your way to finish your work, and unbeknownst to you listen to the sound of your beating heart as the blood began to pump harder and harder... mixed with your adrenaline and sweat. The sunlight was always a risk to his safety but it was always a benefit to yours. He couldn't act on desire if you were beyond his reach. He couldn't do something stupid if his fear of the sunshine kept him at bay.

But, it was getting harder and harder every day to control himself in this way. Your heart beat a little faster when you saw him. The scent that followed was delicious. He wanted to taste you... to know what your blood would feel like trickling down his throat... but to taste his perfect flower was to reveal what he was and what happened to his body a lifetime ago. People judged him enough for his scars, but his gnashing teeth?

That was another story.

You wouldn't think the same of him if you knew what he'd done in the past... nor would you be so willing to take a stroll with him all on your own. His heart may have been gentle but his fangs were not. He had no control over them when he thirsted for something sweet, and out of all the blood he'd ever smelled, yours was by far the sweetest. If he ever had a taste of you... it would be the end of him. He knew that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from hurting you. The thought of his bloodlust being thrust upon you made him feel sick.

And yet, he fantasized about it.

He watched your every move as you dashed around the garden from the windows while he cleaned. He imagined dropping everything and running to your side. He imagined cornering you against the grass in earnest as you revealed your neck to him, quivering, whimpering, and all but sobbing for him to consume you. Those thoughts could've very well consumed him. Had you been there when that woman used him as a pawn, he might've changed you, too.

He hated the idea of taking away your right to choose if you lived or died, but he couldn't help but drool at the fantasy his mind cooked up every time you smiled at him. It wasn't as if you hadn't shared a small moment of intimacy with him already! You kissed him plenty since he confessed his feelings to you, and you'd almost gone further with his Saeran more times than he could count. The only thing that you had yet to see was their truest form... and as he stood there, gripping the broom in his hand so hard he feared it would shatter the wood, those thoughts found him again.

He wanted you.

No, he needed you.

Which was why he clenched his eyes shut and prayed for the feeling to stop before he did something he couldn't take back. Once he had a taste of your blood, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking it, not even if Saeran could step in to do something. Because, it was just as bad for Saeran. He wanted you, too. How much longer could either of them do this without marking you?

...

That particular question was answered at the end of their shift. It wasn't long into their evening stroll when you hoisted Saeran off his feet and propped him up against one of the stone walls that lined the garden edge. It was just tall enough for his legs to dangle but not tall enough to do much more than separate the flowers by section. Your body settled between his thighs, giving you the space to pepper his chest in kisses.

Saeran didn't need to breathe but he always did on purpose when you nuzzle your nose against his chest. It was a small gesture. The smallest for a human, anyway, but not for someone like him whose body responded to every act of admiration with gusto. He squished his thighs together to make sure you couldn't wiggle off, but you paid no mind to the little "prison" he caged you in.

You wanted to be there.

"That's my maid," you teased. The gentle words were always cheeky and tender against his skin. A hand tangled itself into his hair, itching every scratch that bothered him before you found him. "I didn't even have to train you to do that for me."

You never paid mind to how cold they were given just how readily your body transferred its heat but tonight was different. Every kiss you paved across their exposed collarbones made it harder to ignore his desires. Your fire was their fire. Your heat was his heat. The blood pumping in your veins was burning for him. It was burning for them in every way imaginable.

How could he hold back when your body was the one pleading for more?

He couldn't hold back. He refused to hold back. He needed you. He needed you like your body needed air to survive. He needed to taste your blood and confirm how sweet it was. He settled his mind when you smiled against the space where his heart would be. As his very precious gardener lifted their head to look him in the eyes, crimson washed over baby blue in a heartbeat. You didn't shiver or shudder when his true eyes appeared as Ray's heart once feared.

In fact, you leaned in even closer and made sure your hands held onto Saeran for dear life. The very creature that could've stolen a precious world away from you.

He whispered, "Do you trust me?"

Without hesitation, you replied, "Always."

You tilted your head to the side as he leaned in closer and nuzzled his nose against the space where your throat met your shoulders. It was just as sweet pressed against your skin as it was from afar, no, even sweeter. Your breath hitched as his fangs pierced your skin. He had been given the chance to indulge in your delicious body to his heart's content and he would be a damn fool to not try to satisfy himself.

Call him greedy, but he would never turn down such wonderful blood when it pleaded to be his.

The sound of your heart...

Thump, thump, thump, thump...!

It pleaded his name.

Saeran, Saeran, Saeran, Saeran...!

It would sound no different if Ray took you first. Ray... Ray... Ray... Ray! Your heart would've cried! You wanted him just as much as you wanted Saeran, after all. But, since he was the first to take his fill of you, he would indulge as if your heart was only crying out for him just this once. His tongue lapped at the marks he left behind to not miss a single drop of your essence. Not a single inch of you would be left for waste.

Your woozy hands remained around his shoulders as cradled you close to his chest. He no longer had a heart to call his own. Those years of humanity were long gone, but yours were not. Your heart was his heart in that very moment, desperately pleading to be not just his, but Ray's, too... forevermore. You could be their heart... a gentle beating heart that reminded him of what it felt like to be a human when they were anything but.

You had to pull it together. You had to get out of here. You stood, throwing Party Poison's body over your shoulder. He wasn't going in one of those BL/ind bastard's body bags, that was for damn sure. With your vampiric strength, his corpse weighed almost nothing at all. You ran for the exit, stepping over Kobra Kid and Fun Ghoul's corpses, as well. You wanted to take them all with you, but there was no way. 

Forgive me, Kid, you thought, tears streaming down your face as you ran from the Exterminators. Forgive me, Ghoul. 

You threw open the passenger door of the Trans Am and put Party Poison's body in the passenger seat. Just an hour ago, he'd been sitting there beside you, laughing, blasting Mad Gear And The Missile Kid.....oh, god, Poison. A fresh wave of grief washed over you.

But, there wasn't time for that. You grabbed Jet Star's body off the hood of the car and tossed it in the backseat. Then, you got into the driver's seat and you hit the gas. You drove until the Battery City buildings gave way to open desert. You burned robber across the scorching sands until you were sure Korse wasn't chasing you anymore. Only then did you hit the brakes. 

You pulled the keys  out of the ignition and looked at the body beside you. He's dead, you thought. My Party Poison, my Gerard, my baby, he's dead.

"Should I bury him?" you muttered to yourself. "And put his mask in the Mailbox?" 

But then, another idea came to you. Modern medicine could not save the Killjoy now. It was far too late for that. But....technically, you were dead, too. But, you still walked and breathed, because a fanged creature you'd met on your first night in the desert, before the Fab Four had found you, had given you the gift/curse of eternal life. Undeath. 

Party Poison's blood already slicked your hands from where you'd held him. In spite of your grief and pain and nausea, the sick, primal part of you had to admit, the smell was making you hungry. 

There was a way, you realized, that Party Poison did not have to stay dead. He may not like it - he may despise you when he realized what you had done to him - but there was a way that he could open those eyes again, and look at you, and be here, instead of leaving you alone in this world. If there was a way to bring him back - even if he hated you for it - you had to do it, right? 

You couldn't never hear his voice again. You couldn't never feel his touch again. "Forgive me, Party Poison," you said softly. And then you reached over and gently brushed the crimson locks away from his face, and plunged your fangs into his neck.

You didn't want to focus on the way his blood tasted. You were not doing this for your own pleasure, to slake your own thirst. You were doing this to save him. But, you had to admit, it was the sweetest thing you'd ever tasted. You restrained yourself, and only drank as much as the ritual required. Then, you pulled a knife from your belt (Poison had given it to you himself, your first day at the diner, to defend yourself with until he could teach you how to fire a ray gun) and pointed it at your own wrist. 

You hesitated, knowing this would hurt. But, it wouldn't kill you. Nothing short of a stake to the heart would. You sliced at the place where your vein was, letting your life-giving blood drip from the wound. Then, you pressed your bleeding wrist to Party Poison's soft lips.

"Drink, my love," you whispered, "and live." 

You weren't sure how long it would take for the Turning to be complete. Did he need to drink more? Or was this enough? You'd never Turned anyone before. What if you'd done something wrong? What if it wasn't going to work? 

Just when you thought it was all going to be for nothing, you felt fangs bloom in Party Poison's mouth. You tugged your wrist away. His closed eyes twitched, like he was just waking up from a long nap. You'd done it. 

He opened those beautiful, hazel eyes that you knew so well, and you pulled him into your arms, sobbing with relief. 

"Y/N?" Poison blinked, confused. "Where are we? We...we were in Battery City...." 

He looked around, and then he saw Jet Star's corpse strewn across the backseat, and he screamed. 

"Jet! Oh my god!" he cried. "What happened to him?! Where's my brother? Where's Ghoul? Where's The Girl? Is she safe? What....." 

"Poison, calm down," you said, grabbing him by the shoulder. "I can explain." 

"How can I be calm?!" Poison gasped. "Jet Star is dead!"

"So are you, Poison," you replied.

"I......what??" Poison looked at you, bewildered.

"Technically," you confessed, "you're undead." 

Poison's eyes widened in realization. "No." His hand flew to his mouth, and, at last, he realized that there were fangs there. "No.....Y/N.....what did you do to me....."

"Korse killed you!" you argued. 

"He....." After a moment, the memory of what had happened in Battery City seemed to filter into Party Poison's consciousness. "That's.....we.....we were in the lobby. We'd rescued The Girl, and Korse was chasing us, and....." 

Party Poison began to hyperventilate as the recollections hit him. 

"He....he pinned me against the wall...." Poison flashed back. "And he took out his gun....and....he....he shot me, didn't he? In the head." 

"Yes," you admitted. "I died," Poison realized.

"You did," you nodded. 

"I died," Poison repeated, like he couldn't believe it. "And you....you brought me back?"

"I'm sorry, Poison," you cried, fearing he would hate you now, for making him a monster like yourself. "I couldn't lose you. I couldn't live in this world without you."

"It's ok," Poison said, taking you in his arms. "I'm glad I'm alive - even if it's not a human life anymore. Thank you, Y/N. You saved me." 

"The Girl made it out alive," you informed him as you held him tight, so relieved that he didn't despise you for transforming him without his consent. "Dr. Death Defying took her somewhere safe." 

"Good," Poison said, relieved. "And Jet...." He looked down at his friend's body, like he might cry. 

"He died to save her," you revealed. 

"Can we bring him back, too?" Poison asked desperately. "Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it myself." 

"Are you sure that's what he would want?" you wondered. "Or would he want us to let him go, let his soul travel with the Phoenix Witch to the place that lies beyond the Zones?" 

You were being hypocritical, you knew. You hadn't given Poison that option. 

"I think he would want to be here, with us," Poison said certainly. 

"Even if it means he has to consume the blood of the living to survive?" you wondered. Could gentle Jet really do something like that? 

"He's killed Dracs before," Poison figured. "What's the difference between killing for self-defense, and killing for food?"

"True," you acknowledged. "Plus, he could subsist on the blood of coyotes and cobras, if he really wanted to."

"Kobra," Poison gasped. "Oh, god, Y/N, what happened to Kobra Kid? Where's my baby brother?"

You didn't want to tell him, but you knew you had to. "The Exterminators got him, too." 

"He's dead?!" Poison gaped. "Where's his body?" 

"I couldn't grab all four of you and escape," you confessed. "I'm sorry." 

"So, you just left him there?" Poison accused angrily. 

"We can go back for him," you planned, "and bring him back, like you're about to bring back Jet." 

"What do I have to do to make Jet a vampire?" Poison asked. 

"Start by sucking his blood," you advised.

Poison looked squeamish. "From....from his neck?" 

"Anywhere there's a vein will work, really," you shrugged. 

Poison rolled up the sleeve of Jet Star's jacket, shuddering as he felt the cold, limp flesh of the corpse's hand. He felt for the place where the vein was, and brought the dead Killjoy's wrist to his lips. Hesitantly, he bit down, and let Jet's blood fill his mouth. 

"You must be thirsty, since you just woke up," you noticed. After a few sips, Poison put Jet's arm down. 

"Now what?" he asked. 

"Now, you have to put some of your blood in his mouth," you instructed. You handed him the knife you'd slit your own wrist with. Thanks to your vampiric regeneration, that wound had already closed. 

Poison blanched. He'd done this before, in a less selfless context, years ago, as a teenager in Battery City. You didn't want him to become triggered. 

"It doesn't have to be from the wrist," you said gently. 

Poison made a small nick in the tip of his finger, and placed the finger in Jet's still mouth. It looked a bit odd, but it would work. After a moment, Jet's one eye (the one that hadn't been shot out by a Drac, the one that wasn't covered by a patch) twitched open, and looked down, confused, at Poison's pinkie. 

Poison removed the finger from his friend's mouth, and embraced him with relief, as you had moments before. "You're alive."

Jet Star was savvier than Party Poison, and realized immediately what had taken place. "No, I'm not alive," he gasped. "I'm a vampire! And so are you! How....why......Y/N, why did you turn him? Why did you let him turn me?"

"Korse dusted you," you explained. "Both of you. Do you remember?" 

Jet went quiet for a moment as the events of the day came back to him. "Poison, you got shot," he recalled.

"Yeah, I guess I did," Poison said, like he could scarcely believe it.

"Y/N ran to your side. She was too distracted to protect The Girl, so I grabbed her and tried to run with her. They killed Kobra. They killed Ghoul. I got The Girl into the van, and then....."

"And then, according to Y/N, you died," Poison said grimly. "She brought me back, and then I brought you back. I hope you can forgive me."

"I do," Jet said quietly. "But.....we have to go get the others." 

"You want us to turn them?" you confirmed.

"I want my brothers back," Jet nodded. "I want the Fabulous Killjoys to live to fight another day. There's still so much we have to do to stop BL/ind. Can you imagine if The Girl had to go on and lead the Resistance all on her own, knowing we died to save her?" 

"She doesn't know we're alive yet," Poison realized, frowning. 

"We'll get the gang together," you planned. "Then, we'll find The Girl." 

"Ghoul and the Kid have got to be in Bat City, still," Jet guessed. "We're going to have to drive back there to go get them." 

"Your latest invention should help us with that, Jet," Poison smiled, for the first time since his resurrection. He was once again the team leader, directing a mission. 

Recently, Jet Star had modified the Trans Am's car radio to be able to pick up the radio frequences that the Exterminator vehicles, like cop cars, used to communicate with each other. He turned the dial away from 109, to their signal. 

The transmission was peppered with static. "This is Korse to all units.....bzzzt......the terrorists known as the Killjoys have been terminated."

"Like hell we have," Poison growled.

"Sssh, listen," Jet hushed him.

"Two of the bodies have not been.....bzzzt.....recovered," Korse informed his squad. 

"That would be ours," Poison smirked. BL/ind still thought him dead. Imagine their faces when he showed up, guns blazing. 

"The cadavers were abducted by the terrorists'...bzzt... accomplice," Korse huffed.

"That would be me," you laughed proudly. 

"The other two cadavers are being......bzzt.....transported presently," Korse explained. "To.....bzzt......bzzt....."

"To where?!" Poison cried, smacking the radio in frustration.

"Party, that's not helping!" Jet hissed.

"......bzzt......Street, also known as the Battery City Morgue," Korse revealed before the transmission cut out entirely. 

"The morgue," Poison decided. "That's where we need to go."

"We didn't hear the address," Jet frowned. "So, we have no idea where in the city it is."

"Well, we'll find out," you shrugged. "I mean, what are they going to do when we go barreling back into the city gates? Kill us?"

"They can't," Poison realized. "Because they already did." ********************************************************************************** You drove through the same tunnel you'd travelled to en route to corporate headquarters. You saw a Scarecrow on patrol. He raised his ray gun at you immediately, but Jet was a quicker shot. The Scarecrow fell to the pavement, shot nonlethally in the leg.

Poison got out of the car and gripped the Scarcrow by the collar. "Tell us where the morgue is," he hissed, revealing his bloodstained fangs, "or I'll fucking eat you." 

Shaking like he'd seen a ghost (and, perhaps, you had to admit, he had) the Scarecrow cooperated. "T-t-turn right on Main Street," the terrified soldier directed, "a-and then left on Battery Boulevard. And pl-please don't kill me." 

"If you tell your supervisor you saw us, I'll find you, and I'll drain you to the last drop," Poison threatened. 

"Just shoot him," Jet said mercilessly from the backseat window. "You know he'll raise the alarm if you let him live." 

"I....I won't!" the Scarecrow promised. "Please, I...I have a family...."

"So did I, before your boss shot him to death,"  Poison growled.

"We're going to fix that, Poison," you reminded. "Let the man go. Even if his buddies try to attack us, their laser beams can't hurt us anymore." 

"You're right," Poison decided, listening to your counsel, and threw the trembling Scarecrow back on the ground. The grunt ran for his life. Party Poison got back in the car, and you followed the Scarecrow's directions towards the morgue. 

"Wow," Jet tutted. "The idiot didn't even think to give us wrong directions." 

"Let's just go get Mi....get the Kid, and Ghoul," Poison commanded. You and Jet Star followed him, ray guns drawn, as he kicked down the morgue's front door. An Exterminator guard was at the entrance, of course. "No!" he gaped when he saw Party Poison's face. "It can't be! I saw Korse kill you! There's no way his shot missed!" 

"It didn't," Party Poison laughed. "That fucker ghosted me good. But I came back from the depths of hell just to kick your ass." He shot a ray gun blast in the Exterminator's face, dusting him instantly.

Warning klaxons blared, and more Exterminators rushed into the room. 

"Technically," you laughed, "I brought you back from the depths of hell, baby." You shot at the enemies, and your laser struck too.

"And I'm so glad you did, bunny," Poison said jovially as he wiped out more of the BL/ind operatives. Jet Star took care of the rest, and then the three of you stepped over the corpses that littered the floor and towards the room where the bodies were kept. 

You found Fun Ghoul on a slab, his colorful Frankenstein mask removed, missing, his long, black hair strewn out behind his still form. Laser burns covered his lifeless body. 

"You...you could've escaped, you idiot," Jet Star mumbled, his voice choked with tears. "You could have gotten out of there, but you got ghosted trying to give me and The Girl a chance." 

"You can thank him for it when we wake him up," you reminded. "That's what we're here for." 

"Shouldn't there be some kind of BL/ind doctor here, to do an autopsy or something?" Poison realized. "And there were too few guards here. No Korse, either. Something's not right." 

"Where's Kobra Kid?" you wondered, the borrowed blood in your veins running cold. 

"Where....where did they take him?!" Poison gasped, growing agitated. "If his body ain't in the morgue, what the fuck are they doing with it?" 

"We'll worry about that in a minute," Jet Star soothed. "Right now, let's turn Ghoul. Poison, do you want to do it, or should I?"

"I know you and the Kid had a special bond, Jet," Poison considered. "So I'll leave him to you, when - if - we find him."

"We will find him, Poison," you assured your boyfriend.

"Right," Poison nodded grimly. "But....yeah, it would be gross to stick my fangs in my own brother anyway. But, Jet, Y/N.....if you don't mind, I want to be the one to turn Fun Ghoul." 

"Alright," you nodded. Poison had had a special connection to the man who lay in front of him. Not simple brotherhood, like he had with Kobra. And something....more than the friendship he had with Jet. You weren't sure exactly what the nature of their relationship had been before you entered the picture. But, this wasn't the time to ask. 

Poison knelt beside the medical table where Ghoul's corpse lay. He stroked Ghoul's black hair with shaking fingers. "I'm so sorry they hurt you, Ghouly baby," he murmured. "But, it's alright. You're gonna come back to us, so you can pay them back for it. You'll blow 'em right up." 

He picked Ghoul's head up, bringing the man's neck to his mouth. He bit down gently, even though he knew that his friend could feel no pain. When he thought he'd sipped enough, he set Ghoul back down, and wiped his bloody lips on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Y/N. The knife, please," he asked. You handed it to him quietly. The nick on his finger he'd created to turn Jet Star had already healed, so he pricked a different digit this time. He grabbed Ghoul by the chin, gingerly forcing open his closed mouth. He placed the finger in Ghoul's mouth, letting the blood drip onto his tongue and down his throat. Then, he removed the finger and waited. 

You were worried that more Exterminators would come busting in here to fight your gang before the transformation was finished. But Poison was right- BL/ind was making this strangely easy. Something was definitely wrong. 

But, you were distracted from your paranoid thoughts when Fun Ghoul opened his eyes. He looked around, realizing that he was in the morgue, that Poison had tears in his eyes.....

"I.....died, didn't I?" Fun Ghoul said savvily. "I remember. They ghosted me. How....how the fuck am I breathing right now?" 

"You're a vampire," Poison explained.

"Y/N turned me?" Ghoul guessed.

"No," Poison shook his head. "I did. I'm a vampire, too, now. We all are." 

Ghoul sat up, looking wildly around the room at his companions. He saw the fangs in all of your mouths. You were worried he was going to panic. 

"Where's Kobra?" he demanded. "Did you turn him, too?" 

"No," you admitted. 

"So, he made it out alive, then?" Ghoul asked hopefully. "He's ok?"

"No," Jet said grimly. 

"So, he's dead," Ghoul realized, and his smile vanished. "No...." 

"You were dead about five minutes ago," Poison reminded. "We can save my brother. We just got to find him first."

"He's not here?" Ghoul asked. "He's not in any of these drawers?" 

The four of you started looking. There were bodies in some of the slots, but none of them were Kobra Kid's. An awful thought seized you, and you walked back into the morgue's lobby, where the bodies of the Exterminators still lay. You could faintly hear Korse's voice emanating, with a crackle, from one of the dead enemy's walkie-talkies.

You picked up the walkie talkie, and listened. "Don't worry about the Killjoy, Madam President," you heard Korse chuckle. He sounded so triumphant as he spoke to BL/ind's CEO. You shivered. "She should be at the Battery City morgue, attempting to recover the body of terrorist Frank Iero, alias Fun Ghoul." 

"How the fuck did Korse know you'd be here, Y/N?" Ghoul wondered, coming up behind you.

"It still sounds like he doesn't know Jet and I are alive, though," Poison pointed out.

"Both of you ssh so we can hear," Jet snapped. The men fell silent as you listened intently.

"We allowed her to intercept our transmission regarding the location of Iero's cadaver," Korse gloated. "We even gave my subordinates permission to direct her to the morgue. While she is distracted, our real mission may continue." 

Real mission? you thought, growing anxious. 

"Ah, yes," the Asian-accented voice of the CEO replied. "The Draculization of terrorist Michael Way." 

"They're going to turn him into a Drac?!" Poison howled. "When they put that mask on you, your soul gets ripped out!" 

"We have to find him first!" Jet cried.

"Where the fuck could they be?" Ghoul wondered.

"Not headquarters, where we were earlier," you figured. 

"Where we died earlier," Jet mumbled. 

"Not helping, Star," Ghoul snapped.

"If Korse was at HQ," you said logically, "he wouldn't have to radio the CEO, because he'd be in the same room as her."

"Unless she's on the move," Poison pointed out. 

"Maybe after we infiltrated HQ, she decided it wasn't a safe place to hide out anymore," Jet agreed.

"So, she left Korse there by himself?" you wondered.

"She doesn't care if you come back for revenge and dust him," Ghoul figured. "In Bat City, nobody's got feelings, right? The pills take care of that. So why would she give a fuck about what you do to her subordinate, as long as he completes his mission first?"

You realized Ghoul probably knew what he was talking about. In his former life, as the Exterminator, Frank, he'd seen how the upper echelons of BL/ind's corporate culture worked. 

"He's not going to complete his mission," Poison vowed. "I won't let him turn my brother into a monster."

"Well," Jet chuckled bitterly, showing his fangs, "a different sort of monster than we are, that is." 

"There's no way the car will get us there fast enough," Ghoul worried.

"With our vampiric speed," you considered, "we might get there faster running than driving."

"Are you serious, Y/N?" Poison asked.

"I didn't use my super speed powers a lot before," you admitted. "Because, normally, when I went somewhere, you guys were going with me, and I didn't want to dash ahead of you. But, I think it will work." 

"Ok," Jet nodded. "Ghoul, you know the way to HQ, right?" 

"That's right," Ghoul smirked. "Follow me." ****************************************************************************** In moments, you made it to BL/ind headquarters, even though it was miles from the morgue. Frantically, worried you'd be too late, you dashed up the stairs, to the room where the CEO had been holding The Girl earlier, on your first trip here.

It was unnerving to be back here. It must be even worse for the boys, who could clearly remember breathing their last human breaths in this place. But, you found courage in each other's company, and entered the control room at the top of the stairs. 

Korse was leaning over Kobra Kid's body, about to stretch the Draculoid mask over his still face. 

"NO!" Party Poison cried, whipping out his lemon yellow ray gun and firing a shot at Korse. It hit the bald Exterminator in the arm, making him drop the mask just in time.

"You!" Korse cried, looking at the red-haired man in shock. "Impossible! I terminated you, Way!" 

"The name ain't Way," your lover grinned as he fired another shot that sent Korse sinking to his knees. "It's motherfucking Party Poison. And Killjoys never die!" 

Korse still lived. He was an android. Like vampires, they could take more damage than humans. "Reinforcements to the control room!" he screamed into his walkie talkie. "All units, provide backup immediately!" 

"Jet, you get the Kid!" Poison ordered. "We'll hold these fuckers off!" He pistol whipped Korse, knocking him unconscious, and then turned his attention to the door. 

Dozens of Scarecrows and Draculoids surged into the room. You, Poison, and Ghoul fired at them, exchanging scores of laser blasts. One of the rays hit Poison in the neck, but didn't seem to phase him. 

"Just try and shoot me in the head again, motherfucker!" he cried. "I'm goddamn immortal now!" 

A Scarecrow tried a different tactic, and shot the blaster out of Ghoul's hand. Ghoul simply smirked and kicked the Scarecrow in the groin. When the BL/ind employee doubled over in pain, Ghoul sank his fangs into his neck.

"I have been so fucking thirsty since I woke up in that morgue," Ghoul laughed. "Holy shit, blood is delicious!" 

While the three of you fought off the enemies, Jet approached the body of Kobra Kid. "I'm sorry about this, Mikey," you heard him whisper. He gently bit down on the fallen Killjoy's neck.

A Scarecrow tried to run over, to stop him, but you shot the bastard dead. That was the last one. Nothing could stop you now. You tossed Jet Star the knife. 

To your surprise, he cut open his lip, and pressed his mouth against Kobra Kid's. After a few moments, Kobra's eyes opened, but he didn't immediately remove his mouth from the other man's.

So they had that kind of relationship, you guessed.

When Jet Star released him at last, Kobra Kid looked around the room, bewildered. You knew the last thing he remembered was watching his big brother die. 

"Poison," Kobra Kid gaped when he saw the redhead standing there, spattered with Scarecrow blood, but unharmed. "You're.....you're alive!" 

"Technically, I'm undead," Poison explained, "and so are you."

"What?" Kobra Kid blinked. "I don't understand." 

"It's a long story," Party Poison smiled. "But, we can tell you all about it in the Trans Am, on our way to meet up with Dr. D. and The Girl."

Wouldn't it be better to give you something that's "fresh" instead of something that's been sitting in a cooler for a long time? Wouldn't it taste better if the blood was warm? You should take his blood... that wouldn't hard to give to you every few days... right? If he could take care of you by becoming your main source of food, you might never need to leave him. He fantasizes about that... about being important to you, so important that you would need him forever, but there's also a deep-seeded fear beneath that.

What if his blood isn't good enough?

That's what will bother him the most, and it'll eat away at him little by little until he admits what's bothering him. Even if he's the tastiest thing in the world, he's always going to be afraid that he won't be good enough and you won't want to keep him around. This has to do with the fact that he'll convince himself the only way he can be close to you is if he offers himself up as a blood bag.

That's certainly not true but it's what he'll do to convince himself when he hits rock bottom after being with you for some time. It's no different than him offering to be your punching bag, if he can simply be a source for sustenance, that means he's providing something important to you and proves he's useful. He thinks he has to prove himself to be with you because of the way he's been treated, after all. 

You'll have your work cut out for you when convincing him otherwise. Because, he isn't some means of sustenance for you, he's important to you and you want him to know that. He deserves to know that he means more to you than just a meal. He doesn't have to offer himself up as a sacrifice for you to care about him, and frankly speaking, you might be frustrated by how often he's trying to offer himself up when he can barely take care of himself as it is. 

Even if he's the best you've ever had, you won't want him to sustain long-term injuries when his health is already as poor as it is. The best thing you could do in this position is convince him to take better care of himself, because the more he takes care of himself, the easier it would be for him to offer his blood. You wouldn't feel as bad about taking it if the smallest bit of blood loss wouldn't make him feel sicker. 

Suit Saeran, however, we all know he has a different way of handling what's on his mind. As we all know his health is in a worse place than Ray’s is, because he’s coming out of the basement with an extra session of elixir burning in his veins. No amount of false bravado and puffing out his chest will make him seem stronger than a pole in the garden trying to keep your plants from toppling over during a storm.

He's destroying himself by trying to protect himself with anger, and it won't do anything good for him in the long run.

He's going to want you to feed from him, after all, you did the same thing to Ray. They share the same body, so that means their blood should taste all the same to you, so you shouldn’t kick up a fuss or say that he’s not your type. Go ahead and share that experience with him because if you don't, you're not going to be able to get any blood to survive.

Unlike with Ray, who would've made sure you had other blood if he couldn’t visit you, I can see him taking away that option so you would have to feed from him. This line of thinking isn't all that different from the normal reality when he doesn't let you have any food, but that isn't to torture you, it's a byproduct to make sure nobody puts anything in your food. They've been drugged a thousand times with poison in their food, they're not going to let anybody do that to you.

Of course, most people don't think about that fact, it's far easier to focus on the way he angles it than it is to dive deeper. I imagine he would assume that someone might try to taint the blood with silver or something that could hurt you. 

Whether or not you understand that comes down to the way you would handle that situation. Even if you don't want to drink his blood because you understand he's going to get sicker than he already is if you do that, at some point, you're going to have to take care of yourself because if you don't, who's going to make sure he survives? I imagine there are things in play keeping you from using your full strength to not only get out of this place but protect them, but you likely have enough strength to protect him in a moment of severe danger when it comes down to it.