im gonna redo this fic bc the first part was disgusting i nearly cried at the disgustingness of it sorry
DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?
DO YOU?
HOLY SHIT I WENT THERE AND I CANT BELIEVE IT.
PROLOGUE
He screams, the sound loud and sharp, ripped and shredded, and so pliably destroyed, that it makes Aahil almost stop. The small sliver of human in him twists and turns and writhes, wanting out badly, because it doesn't seem to know that he cannot exist by having stupid, useless sympathy.
He ignores the horrified, disgusted part of his being, and continues to rip apart already frayed flesh, mind a blur of blood blood blood, hands tinted a brutal red.
He can hear the screams slowly come to a stop, shallow gargled breaths replacing the loud, ear piercing shrieks, and Aahil knows there's not much time left, not much at all. The man will die, and his primal need, the urge to drink the whole city dry of red will not be sated, and that is dangerous. He leans into his victim with a new fervor, arms locked tight against his weak, deteriorating body, and bites into the mess of what once was the mans throat with sharp, diamond cut teeth.
The taste is exquisite. Bitter and acrid and iron rusted, it is runs smoothly down his throat, the tangy flavor heightened by endless, delectable fear. Each warm mouthful strengthens his own decaying body, he hears brittle bones crack, and he can't seem to stop, licking and piercing paper-thin skin to coax out thick, crimson fluid. He doesn't stop, not until the small whimpers turn into a low whine, not until the vessel is drained of its blood, and all that is left is shredded meaty flesh and useless organs.
His rotting stomach is far from full, a breadth close to empty, so vast and unfilled that it makes him choke, but he feels content. But when he waits for the inevitable guilt, looking at what he had just done, what he just demolished, the human portion of him that was ready to ruin him before to come back with a vengeance-
It doesn't. It slithers into the darkness that shades him, rolling and turning smaller and smaller with every passing moment.
The thought that the small, innocuous part of him, the one that was the only thing sane in his entire existence is gone, depleted- forever- leaves Aahil with a feeling that is as vicious as the blood he had just consumed, and he shakes his head.
Aahil wipes his mouth with his dirty, once white, now rose shirt, retracts his inhuman teeth with a pained grunt and a stifled moan, and picks up the mans forgotten phone.
Puts on an expression that suggests extreme horror, and dials 102.
"Please help- I need- this m- I found a man and I think he's dead-" The falsified disturbed and shocked voice that's comes out of his mouth doesn't seem like his own, and he ends the call after describing the necessary lies, and throws the device into the dirt.
No, he was dead when I found him and I- oh my god- I think its an animal.
He practices the art of breathing. Something that comes so simply to others, but not to him. After all, he is a Fallen One.
Aahil expands his rib cage, bones moving lithely and smooth, and takes in the cold air of the night through his nose. Exhales out. A large puff of white streams out, mixes in with the dark forest greens and browns. It smells of death.
He repeats the motions, slow and deliberate, unassuming and normal.
He is ready.
I told you I went there.
A vampire AU. Yes. The clich of clichs, the worst nightmare of editors.
I told you I went there.
My face is literally melting off with shame.
If this ends up like Twilight or The Vampire Diaries or some shit like that- or like PKYEK, I am so damn sorry.
So, this is a monster. Like in the word count sense and the vampire-esque sense too.
What a pun.
Its already clocking in at 30k, and I am barely half way through.
This is the prologue.
If its shit tell me so I can stop and not waste my time on this any further 🤣
PS.
Blame all of this on Sebastian Stan's Romanian background and SPN because that show is jesus.
PPS.
My vampires in this fic don't sparkle. I friggin swear to god they don't.
AND the title of the prologue comes from the song black hole sun by sound garden released circa 1994 or something :P
AND yes, the title is you are my only sunshine'. very fitting towards the end I'm going for.
THERE IS GONNA BE SO MUCH ANGSTING SON.
Sorry for grammatical errors and stuff, just had to see if I should actually do this or not, so I wrote a quick one.
xx
