Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > A Little Less 16 Candles... continued...
“Pete…” Patrick began hesitantly as, still on his knees, his friend edged his way to the farthest corner of the cell. Drawing his legs up to his chest, Pete crossed his arms over his legs and lowered his head.
“Pete,” Patrick called again. “Let me help you.”
“You can’t,” Pete mumbled back gruffly. “Just get as far from me as you can.”
“I’m not frightened, let me help.”
Pete shook his head miserably. “I’m serious! Stay away, you can’t trust me.”
“You won’t bite me,” came the confident reply.
He didn’t even catch a glimpse of movement. Let alone have a chance to react. Pete used his vampire speed to reach the bars so fast it was almost as if he had simply appeared there. Reaching through the bars, he seized Patrick’s jacket and pulled him forward.
“I would have thought you, of all people, would understand!” Pete yelled at him.
“I do… at least I’m trying to,” Patrick replied, still trying to sound confident despite Pete’s reaction.
“Without your blend I can’t stop the bloodlust. Brendon drained me!” Pete displayed the marks on his neck that were now almost healed. “I’m not just hungry, I’m starving! I have the worst craving ever and your blood is all I can smell. It’s intoxicating, like a drug and…” Pete pulled him closer still, his voice dropping to a whisper. “… and, I want it. Now do you understand?”
“But you won’t, I know you won’t,” Patrick insisted causing Pete to throw his head back in frustration.
“You don’t know!” he cried before returning his gaze back to his friend, his voice now lower and cheerless. “Even I don’t know that!”
“You were doing most of it on your own anyway!” Patrick argued, trying not to show his concern at being held so close to Pete in his condition. “The blend was failing.”
Releasing Patrick and stepping away from the bars, Pete turned his back on his friend and folded his arms.
“Yeah, and now I know why.”
“Why?” Patrick asked quietly. “Did I get it wrong?”
Pete shook his head before turning to face his friend.
“No,” he sighed. “The priest, Father McLynn…”
“Yeah?” Patrick prompted after a long pause.
“He’s a vampire too now,” Pete sighed and looked away again. “It wasn’t Holy Water, it was just water.”
“That’s good, Pete, don’t you see? You were almost doing it all yourself! You can resist this!”
Rushing forward so fast as to be a mere blur to Patrick’s eyes, Pete slammed his hands on the bars with enough force to break a normal man’s bones.
“I can’t! I want blood with every single aching inch of my body. Your blood, Trick, I want your blood! Don’t you get that? It smells so…” Pete tilted his head back. “Uhn… this is killing me! It’s only a matter of time. Why can’t you understand?”
Patrick moved closer, standing now within inches of the bars, a glazed expression fixed on his face.
“What are you doing?” Pete asked, confused by Patrick’s behaviour. “I told you… get away from me!”
Waiting a few moments and watching as Patrick merely stared, unmoving and silent in reply, the dreadful truth dawned on the distressed vampire.
“Oh, fuck! It’s me! Patrick! Come on, snap out of it! Come on!” Pete yelled.
Unaware of his own power, Pete’s craving had transposed itself onto Patrick, manipulating his mind; reducing him to nothing more than a submissive and willing victim.
“Trick!” Pete tried again, unsure of how he was exacting control over his friend, both unwillingly and unknowingly.
Receiving no response and drawing closer, Pete could see the exposed jugular vein on Patrick’s already scarred neck. Pete’s breathing came to him in short, irregular bursts. Already light-headed from Brendon’s attack, Pete’s mind swirled with the heady scent of the familiar and intoxicating blood. So close! So close! Running his hand lightly down Patrick’s cheek, Pete’s eyes glazed as the need overwhelmed him. Gently pulling Patrick towards him, Pete licked his lips before closing his eyes.
*
Joe led Andrea into the warehouse he and his three friends called home. Leaving her at the entrance and virtually ignoring her, he went in search of equipment for the return to the mansion.
Looking around, she could see that the large warehouse was nothing like its dilapidated exterior suggested. Inside, she could see that some areas had been turned into offices, others probably sleeping areas. Four large steel cabinets were now unlocked and open, housing a wealth of equipment, which currently had Joe’s full attention.
Near the back of the warehouse she could see what, at first glance looked like a gym, but beyond that, were boards displaying human shapes which she knew must be for target practise.
“You live here?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Joe replied glancing back briefly. “Come in. We live here, eat, sleep, work, train and play.”
“Play?”
“Yeah!” Joe stood up once more and grinned at her. “We’re a rock band, it’s like our cover. But we’re good!”
“I’d like to hear you,” she smiled back at him.
“Yeah? Well, when we get the guys back, you can.”
“Pete lives here too?”
Joe frowned. He knew it must be hard for someone to get to grips with the idea of sharing a living arrangement with a vampire. They had all had to deal with it themselves when he had been turned. But deal with it they did and now, well now it didn’t seem strange any more. The only thing that reminded them of the potential danger was his insistence that they keep him locked up during the day. Each of them thought it unnecessary, but Pete never wanted to risk it; not where his friends were concerned.
“Yeah, he lives here,” he replied easily, turning back to the cabinet to retrieve a few more things. “Ever used a taser?” he asked with his back still turned to her.
“No.” she admitted, trying to keep a brave face after the shock of what had happened back at the mansion.
“There’s nothing to it,” Joe replied returning and pushing a baton with two short metal prongs at the end into her hand. “You switch it on here,” he pointed, “and stick it on them, doesn’t matter where. A few seconds and they’re out, ok?”
Andrea nodded as she took it in.
“We’ll need stakes and a cross can be useful. We can use some of Pete’s Holy Water too.”
“Pete has Holy Water?” she asked taken aback by the idea.
“Yeah and garlic, tons of garlic, probably why he’s so grouchy all the time and why he brushes his teeth about ten times a day... night.”
“I thought…”
“It weakens him.”
“I saw him fight, he didn’t look weak to me,” Andrea replied.
Joe pursed his lips as he considered his reply.
“Not physically, it weakens his bloodlust.”
“You mean he still wants blood and you stay with him?”
“I told you it was complicated!”
“So how does he keep himself from biting you?”
“Patrick makes him these shakes, animal blood, garlic, holy water. He has them about three times a night. A big blender full, he really gets through the garlic. He has to be careful with the Holy Water though, too much burns him,” Joe explained as he continued to fetch equipment.
“Hmm.”
“What?” Joe asked sensing something was wrong.
“So these shakes, he won’t have had them since they captured him?”
“No,” Joe stopped collecting the packs of wooden bullets for the special guns Patrick had designed. “He’ll be dangerous, I don’t know how much. But,” he twirled the taser baton in his hand, “that’s why we have these.”
“How do you plan to get him out?” Andrea asked with a frown. “It’ll be daylight.”
“Body bag,” Joe held up a black plastic folded square. “No light gets through this. We pop him with the taser and carry him out. Are you sure you want to do this? No one would blame you or think any less of you for backing out now.”
“No, I told you, I want to help. After what he did, it’s the least I can do.”
Joe smiled in admiration of her bravery. Thrown into a world that most people would rather not know about, she was showing remarkable courage.
“It’s getting light. Let’s go.”
*
“No!” Pete screamed, pushing back and staggering away from the bars pressing his palms to his temples.
The sudden noise and movement was enough to rouse Patrick from his trancelike state. Unexpectedly finding himself back at the bars again was disturbing enough, but then to see an obviously anguished Pete, standing in the middle of the cell, covering his face with clenched fists was sufficient to make him realise finally that Pete was serious. Deadly serious.
“I nearly…” Pete couldn’t bring himself say the words.
Fumbling with his belt buckle, Pete slid the studded leather belt out of the loops and handed it to Patrick. Offering his hands either side of one of the bars, Pete turned pleading eyes to his friend.
“Tie me up! Do it tight, real tight.”
“Will it… be strong enough?” Patrick asked hesitantly.
“Don’t ask questions,” Pete replied through gritted teeth. “Just do it, while you still can.”
Wrapping the thick leather belt around Pete’s wrists, his first shock came when Pete yelled furiously at him.
“Tighter!”
“But…”
“Tighter, Trick, just do it! Please!”
Pulling at the strap with all his strength, Patrick knew he had reached the point that Pete would be satisfied when he saw his brow furrow in pain.
“Is that okay?” he asked not wishing to hurt his friend.
“The tighter the better,” Pete replied through clenched teeth. “The safer.”
With a final tug, Patrick looped the ends around twice before threading the end of the belt through the buckle. Lowering his grip on the strap to obtain as much leverage as possible, Patrick pulled hard to get the prong through the last hole. Already Pete’s hands were tingling and numbing, but it would be worth it if it were strong enough to hold him.
“Pete,” Patrick called again. “Let me help you.”
“You can’t,” Pete mumbled back gruffly. “Just get as far from me as you can.”
“I’m not frightened, let me help.”
Pete shook his head miserably. “I’m serious! Stay away, you can’t trust me.”
“You won’t bite me,” came the confident reply.
He didn’t even catch a glimpse of movement. Let alone have a chance to react. Pete used his vampire speed to reach the bars so fast it was almost as if he had simply appeared there. Reaching through the bars, he seized Patrick’s jacket and pulled him forward.
“I would have thought you, of all people, would understand!” Pete yelled at him.
“I do… at least I’m trying to,” Patrick replied, still trying to sound confident despite Pete’s reaction.
“Without your blend I can’t stop the bloodlust. Brendon drained me!” Pete displayed the marks on his neck that were now almost healed. “I’m not just hungry, I’m starving! I have the worst craving ever and your blood is all I can smell. It’s intoxicating, like a drug and…” Pete pulled him closer still, his voice dropping to a whisper. “… and, I want it. Now do you understand?”
“But you won’t, I know you won’t,” Patrick insisted causing Pete to throw his head back in frustration.
“You don’t know!” he cried before returning his gaze back to his friend, his voice now lower and cheerless. “Even I don’t know that!”
“You were doing most of it on your own anyway!” Patrick argued, trying not to show his concern at being held so close to Pete in his condition. “The blend was failing.”
Releasing Patrick and stepping away from the bars, Pete turned his back on his friend and folded his arms.
“Yeah, and now I know why.”
“Why?” Patrick asked quietly. “Did I get it wrong?”
Pete shook his head before turning to face his friend.
“No,” he sighed. “The priest, Father McLynn…”
“Yeah?” Patrick prompted after a long pause.
“He’s a vampire too now,” Pete sighed and looked away again. “It wasn’t Holy Water, it was just water.”
“That’s good, Pete, don’t you see? You were almost doing it all yourself! You can resist this!”
Rushing forward so fast as to be a mere blur to Patrick’s eyes, Pete slammed his hands on the bars with enough force to break a normal man’s bones.
“I can’t! I want blood with every single aching inch of my body. Your blood, Trick, I want your blood! Don’t you get that? It smells so…” Pete tilted his head back. “Uhn… this is killing me! It’s only a matter of time. Why can’t you understand?”
Patrick moved closer, standing now within inches of the bars, a glazed expression fixed on his face.
“What are you doing?” Pete asked, confused by Patrick’s behaviour. “I told you… get away from me!”
Waiting a few moments and watching as Patrick merely stared, unmoving and silent in reply, the dreadful truth dawned on the distressed vampire.
“Oh, fuck! It’s me! Patrick! Come on, snap out of it! Come on!” Pete yelled.
Unaware of his own power, Pete’s craving had transposed itself onto Patrick, manipulating his mind; reducing him to nothing more than a submissive and willing victim.
“Trick!” Pete tried again, unsure of how he was exacting control over his friend, both unwillingly and unknowingly.
Receiving no response and drawing closer, Pete could see the exposed jugular vein on Patrick’s already scarred neck. Pete’s breathing came to him in short, irregular bursts. Already light-headed from Brendon’s attack, Pete’s mind swirled with the heady scent of the familiar and intoxicating blood. So close! So close! Running his hand lightly down Patrick’s cheek, Pete’s eyes glazed as the need overwhelmed him. Gently pulling Patrick towards him, Pete licked his lips before closing his eyes.
*
Joe led Andrea into the warehouse he and his three friends called home. Leaving her at the entrance and virtually ignoring her, he went in search of equipment for the return to the mansion.
Looking around, she could see that the large warehouse was nothing like its dilapidated exterior suggested. Inside, she could see that some areas had been turned into offices, others probably sleeping areas. Four large steel cabinets were now unlocked and open, housing a wealth of equipment, which currently had Joe’s full attention.
Near the back of the warehouse she could see what, at first glance looked like a gym, but beyond that, were boards displaying human shapes which she knew must be for target practise.
“You live here?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Joe replied glancing back briefly. “Come in. We live here, eat, sleep, work, train and play.”
“Play?”
“Yeah!” Joe stood up once more and grinned at her. “We’re a rock band, it’s like our cover. But we’re good!”
“I’d like to hear you,” she smiled back at him.
“Yeah? Well, when we get the guys back, you can.”
“Pete lives here too?”
Joe frowned. He knew it must be hard for someone to get to grips with the idea of sharing a living arrangement with a vampire. They had all had to deal with it themselves when he had been turned. But deal with it they did and now, well now it didn’t seem strange any more. The only thing that reminded them of the potential danger was his insistence that they keep him locked up during the day. Each of them thought it unnecessary, but Pete never wanted to risk it; not where his friends were concerned.
“Yeah, he lives here,” he replied easily, turning back to the cabinet to retrieve a few more things. “Ever used a taser?” he asked with his back still turned to her.
“No.” she admitted, trying to keep a brave face after the shock of what had happened back at the mansion.
“There’s nothing to it,” Joe replied returning and pushing a baton with two short metal prongs at the end into her hand. “You switch it on here,” he pointed, “and stick it on them, doesn’t matter where. A few seconds and they’re out, ok?”
Andrea nodded as she took it in.
“We’ll need stakes and a cross can be useful. We can use some of Pete’s Holy Water too.”
“Pete has Holy Water?” she asked taken aback by the idea.
“Yeah and garlic, tons of garlic, probably why he’s so grouchy all the time and why he brushes his teeth about ten times a day... night.”
“I thought…”
“It weakens him.”
“I saw him fight, he didn’t look weak to me,” Andrea replied.
Joe pursed his lips as he considered his reply.
“Not physically, it weakens his bloodlust.”
“You mean he still wants blood and you stay with him?”
“I told you it was complicated!”
“So how does he keep himself from biting you?”
“Patrick makes him these shakes, animal blood, garlic, holy water. He has them about three times a night. A big blender full, he really gets through the garlic. He has to be careful with the Holy Water though, too much burns him,” Joe explained as he continued to fetch equipment.
“Hmm.”
“What?” Joe asked sensing something was wrong.
“So these shakes, he won’t have had them since they captured him?”
“No,” Joe stopped collecting the packs of wooden bullets for the special guns Patrick had designed. “He’ll be dangerous, I don’t know how much. But,” he twirled the taser baton in his hand, “that’s why we have these.”
“How do you plan to get him out?” Andrea asked with a frown. “It’ll be daylight.”
“Body bag,” Joe held up a black plastic folded square. “No light gets through this. We pop him with the taser and carry him out. Are you sure you want to do this? No one would blame you or think any less of you for backing out now.”
“No, I told you, I want to help. After what he did, it’s the least I can do.”
Joe smiled in admiration of her bravery. Thrown into a world that most people would rather not know about, she was showing remarkable courage.
“It’s getting light. Let’s go.”
*
“No!” Pete screamed, pushing back and staggering away from the bars pressing his palms to his temples.
The sudden noise and movement was enough to rouse Patrick from his trancelike state. Unexpectedly finding himself back at the bars again was disturbing enough, but then to see an obviously anguished Pete, standing in the middle of the cell, covering his face with clenched fists was sufficient to make him realise finally that Pete was serious. Deadly serious.
“I nearly…” Pete couldn’t bring himself say the words.
Fumbling with his belt buckle, Pete slid the studded leather belt out of the loops and handed it to Patrick. Offering his hands either side of one of the bars, Pete turned pleading eyes to his friend.
“Tie me up! Do it tight, real tight.”
“Will it… be strong enough?” Patrick asked hesitantly.
“Don’t ask questions,” Pete replied through gritted teeth. “Just do it, while you still can.”
Wrapping the thick leather belt around Pete’s wrists, his first shock came when Pete yelled furiously at him.
“Tighter!”
“But…”
“Tighter, Trick, just do it! Please!”
Pulling at the strap with all his strength, Patrick knew he had reached the point that Pete would be satisfied when he saw his brow furrow in pain.
“Is that okay?” he asked not wishing to hurt his friend.
“The tighter the better,” Pete replied through clenched teeth. “The safer.”
With a final tug, Patrick looped the ends around twice before threading the end of the belt through the buckle. Lowering his grip on the strap to obtain as much leverage as possible, Patrick pulled hard to get the prong through the last hole. Already Pete’s hands were tingling and numbing, but it would be worth it if it were strong enough to hold him.
Sign up to rate and review this story