FicWad

You may go now Ryan."
I nodded and then bowed slightly. "Thank you. Goodnight sir."
I turned and walked quickly from the dark alleyway. I licked my fingertips and passed them over the puncture wounds on my neck, sealing them and stopping the blood flow.

William's been my...ah...boss, of sorts, for seven years now. Although, I was almost high enough up on the social ladder not to need a boss. I was almost of the same stature as William, who was pretty high up there. I knew things, secrets that I could never tell anyone. I had written things down and stored them in a file. Only me and Brendon knew were the file was. Anyway, seven years ago he turned me. My original job was to pick out unsuspecting tourists and lure them to whereever William instructed me, where he would snap their neck and then drain them of their blood. But after a while people started noticing our pattern, too many people were going missing in the city of Las Vegas.

So we went into hiding for a while.

But while hiding, we had no access to blood. William almost died. He would have, if I hadn't offered him my own blood.
Usually vampires can't drink from one another, it would poison them, but we had no other choice. We soon discovered that there was something different about me, I don't know what it was, but my blood wasn't poisonous, tainted by venom though it was.

So instead of drinking from tourists, and almost blowing our cover, he drank from me. But who do I drink from, you ask. I taught myself to drink without killing, something William was never capable of. It's rather simple just to break into someone's house, cut their neck so I don't turn them, and drink.

I walked down the sidewalk quickly and with purpose. My hands were stuffed in my hoodie pockets, and i ran my fingertips over the smooth gold band hiding there. I smiled, thinking of the look on Brendon's face when I proposed to him. It was risky; a vampire marrying a human. But Brendon had long ago come to terms with my condition, and now he barely seemed to notice it. In no time at all I was standing on the porch of the house we shared. I took a deep breath, not that I needed it, I didn't need to breathe, and stepped inside.

"Brendon?" I called.

No answer.

"Bren!" I called again.

All the lights were off, including the tv, which was odd. It wasn't that late, he should still be up. And he wasn't gone, his car was still in the driveway.

"Um...Brenny?" I asked the silence warily. I smelled the air, and I could smell him. He was still here. The smell was different though, quite off. I walked up the stairs and bit my lip when I reached the top floor. There was something on the floor by our bedroom doorway. Something bearing the resemblance to blood. I cautiously moved towards it, a feeling of nervousness twisting in my stomach. I stepped through the doorway, and screamed. Brendon was sprawled on the floor, absolutely covered in blood. Deep cuts adorned his body and I could see quite a few bones poking out in ways they weren't supposed to. I fell to my knees by his side and pulled him into my lap.

"Brendon! Bren, talk to me!"
He didn't respond. His head just rolled limply to the side. I listened for his heartbeat and found it. It was soft and slow, but still there. It barely helped though. The longer I listened, the slower and quieter it seemed to get. He was dying. A heartbroken sob escaped my throat. It was Brendon, my Brendon, and he was dying in my arms. My Brendon, who might have been my husband. Dying. Tears cascaded down my face as it truly dawned on me. If he died then I'd never see him blush again in embarassment, never hear him sing again, or play the piano. I'd never see his beautiful smile, or hear his carefree laugh. I'd never hug him again, kiss him, feel his touch. Then it struck me, a way I could save him. But would I be saving him, or damning him? He'd be alive, but dead also. It would be selfish, it would be better for him to just let him die. But I needed him with me.

"I'm sorry Brendon." I whimpered, right before I leaned down and sank my sharp white fangs into his throat.

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just throwing this out there.
the William in this story isn't William Beckett.
He's a character that me and deaths-destruction came up with.
Yush. I like that character. So yeah. :)