'You were dead.'
Dark clouds covered the moonlit sky, and soon afterwards rain began to fall. Pete was starting to think walking home was not such a good idea after all; but, he couldn't go back now. He was already half way home and it wouldn't make sence to go all the way back to Patrick's house. And, that would only mean he would have to admit that he was wrong, once again.
Patrick was right; but Patrick was always right, Pete just didn't listen. Patrick was always acting like a worried parent when it came to his friends well-being. Out of anyone, he mostly worried about Pete. Pete was always the one to take the most chances, and didn't think clearly about most things, which normally ment getting himself into trouble. It was quite unusual for Patrick not to worry. Sometimes he would even stay up late at night, just to get a call from Pete to make sure he had gotten home safely and that everything was ok. Some nights, he would lie awake hoping Pete hadn't gone and done something stupid. Of corse, Patrick was never the one to tell his friends these things. It would just sound like he was crazy. But Patrick knew otherwise. He wasn't crazy, he just cared too much.
Pete, now entirely wet, zipped up his hoodie in attempt to keep himself from getting even more drenched than he already was. He wondered if Patrick worried about him, or if he had forgotten all about him leaving in the first place. Either way, he was garenteed to catch a cold from being out in the horrible weather for as long as he was. It wasn't normally like the weather to get this bad, but tonight was an exception. The wind blew more violently with every second, which made him think that the buildings would fall over at any moment.
A few minutes past, and the storm soon lightened up. It almost seemed too soon for it all to end so suddenly, but it was better than walking all the way home being rained on. After it had passed, things seemed to be unusually quiet. There was somehting erie about the silence that made the hairs on his neck stand up. The silence, was an uncomfortable one. It was the kind that made you want to scream or turn on the loudest possible music you could find. Anything to make the quiet go away.
Though no one seemed to be around, it felt like he wasn't the only in that alleyway. A quick snapping noise was heard from behind him. Pete turned around to find nothing but the darkness starring back at him. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief, thankful that no one was really following him.
He opened his eyes, to once again look at the darkness, reassuring himself that he was safe and had nothing to worry about. He turned back around, only to be face to face with someone else. Pete almost jumped out of his skin. He was sure no one was around. He didn't even hear their footsteps from behind him. He didn't know what to do or say. He didn't have to.
Not a moment later, he could feel the sharp fangs dig into his skin. He screamed in pain and fell to the ground. He looked up, but saw nothing. Almost if it was all a dream. One moment he was face to face with his worst fear, and the next it was gone. He heard a roaring laughter in the air. He almost thought he was hillucinating. He didn't know what was real anymore.
He placed his hand on his neck, and felt the thick warm blood that was slowy making its way down his chest. He knew he couldn't stay where he was, or whoever or whatever it was that did this to him, would surely come back. He got on his hands and knees and lifted himself from the cold ground. He mustered all of the energy he could, and began to run. Run to the nearest help he could find. Patrick's house.
If he didn't get there soon, his legs would give out. But there he was, finally. He banged on the door repeatedly, hoping someone, anyone would hear him. He was just about to collapse, as someone opened the door. It was none other than Patrick. His face looked frightened at the sight of his friend.
Once Pete knew he was safe, he fell. Patrick managed to catch him halfway down to the floor. He brought him down slowly and held him close. He called out to Joe and Andy, who were already on there way to see what had happened.
"Oh my god. Pete. Pete, what happened to you?"
Pete didn't respond. He continued to drift in and out of consiousness.
"Pete! Come on, stay with me. Stay awake Pete." Patrick said. He could feel the tears sting his eyes.
Pete smiled at him for a moment, but that smile didn't last for long. All Patrick could see now was a face full of pain and agony.
Pete's body soon went limp as Patrick continued to hold him.
"Pete! Please don't go..." Patrick cried.
Joe and Andy began to cry as well.
After a few minutes, Patrick could feel Pete's body move. He didn't think it could be possible. He looked down to find Pete starring back at him. It wasn't a face of pain or agony. He looked how he normally did, just a alot more pale than usual.
"Pete?" Patrick sniffed.
This caught Joe and Andy's attention.
Pete rubbed his eyes and looked around the room.
"Whats going on?" He whispered.
"You....You were dead." Joe replied.
Pete looked back, horrifyed.
"Dead? What do you mean..." he paused to look down at his blood stained shirt.
He sat up and began remembering what had happened to him. It wasn't a dream like he had hoped. It was all real.
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