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Death came in sensations such as this:
The freezing cold of the water. The pressure of empty lungs so deep under the surface. The pain of fangs pressing against Pyro’s neck and draining his life away. The fear of knowing there would be no survival beyond this point.
Scott released Pyro and they floated to the surface, the horror of realizing they were no longer human taking over. They weren’t in their body anymore. They weren’t certain the body even belonged to them. They stayed at the obelisk long after Scott and Owen left, staring at where their blood had stained the water before it was washed away. A lot of blood, and Scott had taken more still. Pyro raised a hand, brushing against the bite. It hurt, and they were hungry, and everything was far too much.
Pyro killed a chicken on their way home. They sunk their new fangs into its feathered body and drained it of its life force. The blood was rich and a bit salty, and so good it sickened them. They devoured its corpse next. It did little to fill the gaping hole that had opened inside of them.
Apo wasn’t at their house when Pyro returned, which he was grateful for. It was better she saw him in the morning. He took stock of himself. His clothing was wet and plastered to his skin. His collar was torn from where Scott grabbed at him. Several of his shirt buttons were snapped clean off.
Pyro let his coat fall to the floor. He removed his blood-stained cravat next, having just enough presence of mind to hide it. He went to unbutton the rest of his shirt, only for the sleeve to ride up and expose the teethmarks carved into his wrist. It was such a stark reminder of what he was now that it shattered the effort he’d put towards not thinking about it. It became overwhelming to peel the wet clothes off his body and appear presentable. Morning. He would do it in the morning. He collapsed onto the hay that was serving as his and Apo’s bed until they found enough wool, closing his eyes and willing the night to pass.
Pyro’s senses had improved an alarming amount, so he eventually became aware of someone crouching over him. A bolt of fear struck him as he began to imagine this was Scott, coming to finish the job. The person had a heartbeat, but who knew what Scott was capable of.
The person said something, and he felt relief as he realized it was Apo. “Pyro?”
Pyro peeled his eyes open, looking up at her. “Yeah?”
“You’re bleeding.”
Was he? Pyro had thought Scott had drained his blood, and what remained had been washed away along with his humanity. “I am?”
“Your neck,” Apo said, touching the skin just below the bite. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing happened.”
Her tone was sharp. “Something happened.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Oh my god, Pyro. You have holes in your neck. This is not the time. Do you need me to drag you to the doctor?”
Pyro shook his head, causing Apo’s fingers to shift into the bite. Her face twisted with revulsion as she gagged, tugging her hand away. “Nothing he could help with,” Pyro said.
Apo’s fingers returned, pressing against the opposite side of his neck at the pulse point. “You don’t have a pulse,” she mumbled. “Why don’t you have a pulse?”
Pyro was supposed to lie, right? Scott wouldn’t like it if someone knew what he was now. “Of course I have a pulse. Maybe you didn’t do it right.”
“I know how to do this,” Apo insisted. She grabbed his wrist next, which only served to make it worse when she saw Owen’s bite. Her fingers tightened. “What the hell?”
Pyro opened his eyes to look at Apo. She had a white-knuckled grip on his wrist, brows furrowed in confusion and dread. “It’s nothing,” he insisted.
“Tell me the truth.”
Pyro was about to evade a clear answer again, but something in Apo’s face gave him pause. She was scared. He hadn’t realized it was possible for her to be scared. He’d only known her for a couple days, but she hadn’t come across as anything other than self-assured and capable. If his state was enough to shake her, then it was clearly bad. “Vampire,” Pyro mumbled.
Apo went through about fifteen emotions before settling on exasperation. “This isn’t the time to joke, Pyro.”
“I’m not joking.”
The face Apo made at that would almost be funny, if not for the fact that it wasn’t. She opened her mouth, likely to rebuke Pyro again, but paused. Her eyes flickered over his bites, then she considered his lack of a pulse again. Finally, she met his eyes, floored. “Oh my god, you’re a vampire.”
Hearing Apo say it aloud was suddenly too much. The dam broke and he sobbed, heaving breaths he didn’t need anymore. When he tried to wipe his tears away, his hands came back red. Apo looked like she was going to throw up once again at the sight of the blood, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Pyro turned so his back was to her. He whispered apologies under his breath over and over again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Sorry, sorry, sorry–”
Apo cut him off, voice flat. “Have you been like this the entire time?”
“I wasn’t like this before.” Pyro’s voice was so ragged. He winced.
“Right, the bites are fresh. Oh my god.”
Apo’s breaths were quicker and shallower than they should be. Pyro couldn’t say he blamed her. “It’s okay,” Pyro said in an attempt to reassure her. It didn’t work.
“It’s not okay. I left you alone for one night and you were turned into a vampire. God, I’m sorry.”
Pyro’s brows furrowed, confused. “Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.”
“I’m supposed to keep Oakhurst safe. It’s my job.”
“I was the one who went out into the woods with strangers.”
“Who?” Apo asked, and Pyro winced.
“They would kill me if I told you.”
“You don’t have to tell me, but I would protect you if you did.”
Pyro believed Apo was a capable soldier. He did. However, Scott was far older and far better at persuasion. “I don’t want you to be turned too.”
Apo didn’t respond. Maybe they were thinking of exactly what to do about Pyro’s pesky vampirism. He knew the drill. He could stick around as long as he didn’t step out of line, in which case he’d be sent packing. ‘Beast’ wasn’t all that different from ‘vampire,’ in the grand scheme of things.
(It didn’t matter that he’d only grabbed the rock because there was nothing else close enough to reach. It didn’t matter he had thought he was going to die. He still did it. He still didn’t want to think about it too long.)
“I can go somewhere else,” Pyro said, just to break the pressing silence.
“No,” Apo said. They didn’t offer further elaboration.
“I’m a vampire,” he reminded, as if Apo could’ve forgotten.
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“I don’t want to.” It was as much of an answer as Pyro could give her.
“Then it’s fine.”
Pyro covered his face with the palm of his hand, looking over his shoulder at Apo. They had their hands tangled in the fabric of their skirt, looking anywhere but him. Pyro was taken aback, if he was being honest. Of all the responses he could’ve imagined he got, he didn’t think Apo would let him stay. He didn’t know what to do with himself. “Okay,” he said, settling on acceptance.
“How are you feeling?” Apo asked after a few moments, stilted.
“I’m mostly just hungry.”
Apo pulled her sleeve up and stuck her wrist near Pyro’s face. “Here.”
“What?”
“You said you were hungry. I have food.”
“I can go find raw meat to eat.”
“Well, yeah, but—“ Apo waved her wrist closer to Pyro’s mouth, and the temptation to bite got stronger. “I can help you like this. Let me help you.”
“What if I hurt you?”
“Then I’ll shove you off. Just do it before I change my mind.”
Pyro sunk his teeth into Apo’s wrist, far too overcome by hunger to hold himself back anymore. He sat up for a better angle. Human blood, it turned out, was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. He almost understood why the vampires had taken from him the way they did, though that came with its own waves of revulsion. What might Pyro be willing to do to get a taste again? Apo was understanding now, but surely they’d tire of him eventually.
Pyro affixed his eyes on Apo’s face, ready to pull away at the sign of any discomfort. They kept their gaze pointedly away from him. Another few moments, and Pyro felt it had gone on too long. He had no desire for his eyes to turn red the way Scott’s had.
There was blood smeared on Apo’s wrist when he pulled away. He indulged the impulse to lick it off. Apo giggled. “Did you just lick me?”
“There was blood around the bite,” Pyro said, distracted as he watched more blood well out of the wound. “One second. Don’t look.”
Pyro crossed the room to their chests. The doctor had made his rounds earlier, leaving the townspeople with bandages. Pyro grabbed those, as well as a flask of water and a cloth. He returned and knelt by Apo’s side. He wet the cloth, carefully cleaning the bite on their wrist. He wasn’t certain if vampire bites held the infection risk of other open wounds, but he didn’t want to risk hurting them any more than he already had. He wrapped their wrist in a bandage, prompting them to look.
“Thank you,” Apo said, eyes flitting along the white fabric of the bandage.
Pyro watched his roommate closely for any sign of wooziness or pain. They seemed fine for the most part, just tired. He emptied his pockets of any food that wasn’t meat and piled it in front of Apo, nudging them until they took the hint and ate a potato.
Apo took the cloth from Pyro, cleaning off the blood crusted under his eyes and around his mouth. She did the bites next, careful not to press too hard, and wrapped them with bandages. She smoothed his hair back into place and readjusted his torn collar. She tugged either side of his shirt back together, promising she’d sew the broken buttons back on when she had a chance.
Apo’s hands were so warm and she was giving Pyro more care than he was certain he deserved, but for a single solitary moment he felt human again. He leaned forward before the thought could fully form in his head, wrapping Apo in a hug. She tensed at first before relaxing into it, her arms coming up around him. Her fists bunched in the fabric of his shirt.
Pyro’s body was strange and unnatural. His neck throbbed, the hunger would rear its ugly head eventually, and it seemed fear would become a constant companion. For now, though, Pyro felt at peace.
There were worse things in the world than being held, after all.