FicWad

Frank woke up two hours later, sitting on his old, dull sofa with his head on the table in front of it. His eyes flickered open rapidly, and he had an agonisingly irritating headache, almost like a migraine.
"Ahh..." he groaned in pain as he slowly raised his bruised head.

[Aww, is Frankie's head hurting?]

"No... not now..."

{Don't listen to it, Frank...}

[Maybe Frank needs to hit his head a little... after all, it might get rid of me for a while, and you certainly don't need me annoying you now, do you?]

"NO, I FUCKING DON'T, SO FUCKING GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!" yelled Frank loudly, clutching his head and gripping as his quite short, dark brown hair in rage and frustration. He didn't have to worry about disturbing anyone in nearby houses, because he lived far away from anyone else. He thought it was safer that way, in case the demon in his head told him to hurt anyone or made him hurt someone out of stress.

[No need to use that kind of language, Frank. Now, are you going to hit yourself in the head to make me go away, or aren't you? Choose wisely.]

"It's OK, it's OK, just go for a walk, calm yourself, Frank, it'll be fine, it can't hurt you if you don't let it, it'll be fine, it's OK..." let out Frank in one terrified breath. He thought that for once in his life, if he tried his hardest to ignore it, he would be relieved of his stress and crippling aggravation, but the more he attempted to ignore it, the more the voice yelled, increasing in volume and irritation.

With an angry growl, Frank ran out the front door and into a secluded forest, not caring that it was later than 10pm, meaning any kind of criminal could be about prowling the area looking for paranoid saps like Frank. He tripped over on a fallen tree, and he winced at the sudden pain as he fell onto a sharp twig on the muddy, leafy ground that stabbed him in his right thigh.
"Ahh..." he whispered, pained. He pushed himself up on his muddy hands and sat on his bottom beside the fallen tree, and he felt a warm, thick yet watery substance drip from the small, circular wound the twig had evidently left. He stared at the bloody area covered by his tight, black skinny jeans, and he noticed the area gradually getting darker as he continued to bleed. As he placed his trembling fingers on it and slowly raised them in front of his shivering face, he saw that the blood had seeped through his jeans and onto his now-red fingertips. He stared at them for a scary yet somewhat peaceful minute, give or take, observing how the swirling and seemimgly endless patterns of his fingerprints were clearly visible under the blood stains.

After about two quiet minutes of staring at the blood on his fingers, then eventually staring into space, Frank heard a sinister hiss behind him, and the atmosphere was suddenly enveloped in a painfully cold air, and he saw a dull, yet clearly visible, white fog travel past his face.
"Oh, God..." whimpered Frank in fear, as shivers were sent down his spine. He felt butterflies fluttering restlessly in his stomach, which now felt like some sort of deep, dark pit with a cold sea of emptiness and terror residing down at the bottom. He heard the hiss again, but this time, it was louder and far more intense. The cold air that came with it was blown onto the back of his neck, making all of his hairs all over his pale, shaking body stand up.
"It's OK, it's just the voices inside my head, they're just playing tricks on me..." whimpered Frank, a little tearful because of all the fear overwhelming him like a tidal wave. He came to the realisation that it wasn't just voices when he felt something brush against the back of his neck, giving him goosebumps all over.
"Wh-who are you?" stuttered Frank quietly and nervously.

"Hhhhhhhccchhh..."

Frank heard that same petrifying hiss again, and a pale, scary and evil face crept its way past Frank's neck to face him. Frank remained silent as he saw a vampire, clutching hard at his waist so that he couldn't escape. His eyes matched the colour of Frank's blood exactly, and they were staring angrily into his. He slowly lowered his right hand to grip hard at Frank's thigh, and his blood left a small yet messy print on the vampire's palm. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked the blood off of his paper-white hand, savouring the metallic taste and keeping his gaze glued to Frank's hazel eyes.
"Pl-please, let me go! Wh-what do - what do you want from me!?" he screamed, terrified of what he guessed was going to happen next. The vampire breathed the cold fog steadily onto Frank's neck, before attempting to sink his teeth into it like hot knives through butter, however Frank got up suddenly, out of the vampire's grip, and ran a few steps backwards.
"HHHHHCCCCCCCCHHH!" hissed the vampire, but this time, the hiss was more like a terrifying, soul-shattering scream. He charged towards Frank and backed him up against a tree, and, for once in his life, Frank's impulses caused by the demon in his head came in handy.

[What are you doing just standing there, Frank? Punch him! Punch him in the face!]

And so, he did just that. He raised his clenched fist and slammed it hard and fast into the vampire's small nose, making it gush blood. Instead of hissing, the vampire stared in shock at Frank, his mouth agape. He was actually quite impressed and slightly intimidated by Frank, and by the unexpected strength and sudden velocity of the punch he threw at him.

They stared at each other, before Gerard spoke.
"You're not like the others... no-one else could ever do that to someone like me..."
Frank shivered and stared at him, still quite scared.
"Wh-why not?" he asked, biting his lip afterwards.
"Because vampires usually wouldn't be hurt by any attack a mere human threw at them... what are you, a demon?" the vampire questioned, a suspicious glint in his wide, sanguine eyes.
"N-no, but I hear a demon's voice in my head... it makes me so impulsive, a-and, it t-told me to... punch... you..." answered Frank nervously, looking at the ground beneath his trembling feet. The vampire held Frank's upper arms, leaned in closer and smelled his neck, then his face.
"What... are you doing...?" asked Frank, feeling a little creeped out by the vampire's unusual actions.
"Sensing..." he muttered in response. He smelled his neck once more, before continuing. "You... don't... actually mean to hurt me, do you?"
"Why are you respecting me? You're a fuckin' vampire, you shouldn't be treating me like a friend." asked Frank curiously, not sure whether he actually wanted the vampire to treat him like a friend or not.
"Because... you're something of a threat. You don't want to hurt me, that I can tell, but you intimidate me somehow." answered the vampire, making Frank laugh a little.
"I'm a threat? I'm a paranoid, 24-year-old man who is constantly terrified by voices in his head. You're a bloodthirsty, feral fucking vampire, and I'm the threat?"

"I... I, um... I'm Gerard." said the vampire, somewhat timidly, and he walked off without another word.