Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Emizel took in a shaky breath, remembered he didn’t actually have to breath, then let it out anyway through his nose.

Force of habit.

The scruffy blonde raised his head to peek over the ledge of the rooftop, red eyes scanning the zombie horde below. Their scent reached up the five stories to his nose and he made a face of disgust. He didn’t like zombies. They smelled weird to him and they were pretty lackluster for conversation. The building was surrounded now and the undead creatures had managed to claw their way into the bottom floor through broken windows. Soon enough they’d be climbing the stairs and getting to the roof where he was hiding. He could already hear their clicks and groans getting closer.

He could also already hear the lecture his dad would give him if he found out about this.

Emizel stood, the metal pipe strapped to his back bumping him in the back of his head like it always did. He really needed Theo to adjust that strap. A problem for when he made it back.

The rooftop opposite was a couple feet above him and at least a good thirty feet away.

He’d made jumps further than that.

Surely he had.

On second thought, those jumps had been downwards and the momentum definitely helped with those. The vampiric strength and speed he had also did wonders.

Emizel flinched as he heard a heavy bang against the door to the roof behind him.

Time’s up.

Shaking his limbs loose, he jogged half-way across the roof, turning back to eye the spot where he would jump from. There really wasn’t time to second guess this.

‘Come on, don’t be a pussy, dude,’ he grumbled to himself.

He took off in a sprint as he heard the door splinter behind him and Bugs and Beetles burst through the shattered wood. He leapt onto the ledge, crouching low and pushed off with as much power as his legs could muster, his arms outstretched in front of him. His hands hardened to claws as they gripped the ledge of the opposite rooftop and his body slammed against the brick wall. If he’d still been human, he would have had the air knocked right out of his lungs - or actually, he would have just missed completely and fallen to his death.

He gripped the ledge with all his might, digging his sharpened fingertips into the concrete as he swung his legs to pull himself up. His scuffed boots scrapped the brick wall and he cursed loudly to himself as he scrambled up like the creature he was.

The undead under him turned their heads up at the noise, making groans and insect like clicks of interest.

He dragged himself over the edge and flopped onto his back, looking up at the night sky, the metal pipe digging into his back.

‘Nice,’ he mumbled to himself. ‘That wasn’t so bad.’

He listened to the noises of the Bugs below him. It sounded like a Hornet was nearby, riling them up; he could faintly hear its low drone further down the street.

Emizel Tucker grinned a sharp toothed grin to himself as he stared up at the stars. He’d never felt so alive. Sure, he was an undead creature of the night, but at least he wasn’t a damn zombie. He’d hate to be a Bug or a Hornet. A Beetle wouldn’t be too bad, purely because of the strength they possessed, but even then he’d probably still hate that.

Bugs were your everyday run-of-the-mill zombies. Stupid, generally slow, and reactive to sound and the smell of people. They were the easiest to kill if you knew how - and Emizel had certainly figured out a number of ways to do so.

Hornets were smarter, as if they still had some small part of their brain left. They could emit a sound that riled Bugs up, urging them to act as an actual horde or chase someone relentlessly. It was almost scary just how smart some Hornets could be.

The strongest zombies were called Beetles. They were big and brutish and powerful enough to snap bones with little effort. In fairness, Emizel avoided them when he could - he hated healing from an unnecessary broken bone.

There were other types of zombies, like Bombers or Cicadas. Bombers carried a toxic gas in sacks on their bodies that would essentially explode on contact. Meanwhile Cicadas could stalk their prey in perfect silence for miles upon miles before attacking.

Emizel grinned a little more. All that didn’t actually matter much to him. He would never become any kind of zombie.

He was immune.

Emizel Tucker, was immune to the zombie virus. He’d been bit. A number of times actually. Yet he still hadn’t turned. He was immune; and it wasn’t just because he was a vampire. As a matter of fact, he had no idea why he was immune. Vampires could still turn. He’d seen it happen.

Usually it was obvious when a human was infected; the change happened fairly slowly, giving you time to put them out of their misery. But when a vampire changed, it was quick and messy. Not only that but a vampire that turned was twice as deadly.

As it turned out, zombies weren’t that easy to kill like the movies had made Emizel believe. Even being a vampire barely helped. Between dying and coming back to an unlife, a zombies body changed drastically. They didn’t rot and fall apart like Emizel and the rest of the world had expected them to. Instead they formed a sort of exoskeleton - a lot like an insect. The only real way to get rid of a zombie for good was fire, lots of fire; and unfortunately since becoming a vampire, Emizel was now scared of fire. He’d tried setting something alight with his best friend, Theo, but something within him had freaked upon seeing the flicker of flames and he’d run head first into a wall and knocked himself out.

Theo had laughed at him for an hour after he regained consciousness; choking out apologies between fits of laughter.

Speaking of Theo…

‘Alright, home time,’ he said to himself, rolling over and pushing himself to his feet.

He cast a glance over the edge and looked at the Bugs below with a smirk. They were so stupid. They’d have no clue where he’d disappeared to. Their object permanence was horrible which is why most Bugs tracked by scent. Normally they’d be able to continue tracking someone even after they’d lept from building to building, but Emizel was built different. Whatever it was that made him immune, also changed how he smelled to them. His guess was that maybe he smelled like one of them, or he had no scent at all.

He spun on his heel and ran to the other edge of the building. These gaps were smaller, much easier to jump and he could already make out his route back to camp ahead of him. Adjusting his jacket and the metal pole on his back, Emizel darted forward and across the city rooftops.

It had been twelve years since the world had become overrun by monsters. It had started with the zombies. Emizel had been eight, living with his dad in his car shop, when the virus first began to spread. Back then, he’d still been human. In the beginning, military efforts were made to try and contain any outbreaks but they quickly proved to be ineffective. After that humans struggled to survive, even within their own small communities.

As the years passed, more and more supernatural creatures would emerge from the shadows, inserting themselves along side humans in an effort to fight back against the zombies. Turns out, even a vampire or a werewolf can be scared of the undead.

Not Emizel though.

Even before he was a vampire, he was always ready to go toe to toe with any Bug that crossed his path. There was something within him, feral and animalistic, that made him a fighter. For as long as he could remember, blood had smeered his knuckles, stained his clothes; and every look cast his way was a wary one. He didn’t mind. He had Theo after all; and Theo loved him, even when he’d become a vampire.

Yet the world was only getting more dangerous.

Not even monsters were safe. Good people were becoming harder and harder to come by. Just surviving wasn’t enough anymore; now people wanted to prosper. Raiding parties had started to form; small groups, mostly five or six people that were untrusting of one another. Monsters were starting to look soft and cuddly compared to some humans.

Some slightly larger groups of raiders had even taken to capturing zombies and other monsters, forcing them to kill or be killed, fight for entertainment or slaughter camps for resourses. It was getting to a point where zombies now were beginning to take over in numbers.

Emizel picked up his pace, back towards Demon territory.

Most of Los Angeles was considered a dead zone. There were so many zombies through the city that the military had bailed as soon as things started looking bad for them - that was eight years ago. So vampires had moved in - or a more accurate explaination is that they simply emerged from the shadows. They’d always been there in L.A. Only now they were actively fighting back against the zombies that filled their streets. It turned out vampires are incredibly prideful creatures.

Emizel learnt that the hard way.

Two years ago, him, Theo and a handful of buddies from their camp had decided to go out one night to break open some Bug heads for a little entertainment. Unfortunately they’d crossed paths with a vampire from Fang territory: Gabriel Montez. Demons and Fangs had been rival gangs in the city well before the zombie apocalypse; so it was on sight.

Surely six guys were able to beat one scrawny looking vampire.

Surely.

Emizel lost four friends that night and he almost would have lost Theo too if he hadn’t bitten back. So now he was a vampire. Somehow he’d managed to keep it a secret from his dad and the rest of their camp for two years. Only Theo knew. Theo also was the only person who knew Emizel was immune.

Him being a vampire was no big deal in the long run.

But him being immune?

Biggest deal of them all.

He’d be dead the instant someone else found out. Some nights he’d have nightmares of people in white coats cutting him open, taking his blood, removing bits of him until they finally scooped out his brain, turning it to mush and poking and proding and eventually killing him for good. He didn’t want to become some freak’s science experiment - Emizel was having too much fun enjoying his unlife.

He swung himself over the edge of a building, feet landing on the fire escape below and he slid down the stairs with ease into an alleyway, ducking behind an dumpster to check the coast was clear. No sign of Bugs here.

The ground was grassy beneath his boots. Nature had been quick to reclaim the concrete cities; grass and weeds grew through cracks in the pavement, trees thrived wherever they deemed fit, vines covered buildings and entangled the landscape in bushy greens and moss grew across mounds that were once cars.

Emizel poked his head out from the alley way, looking up and down the street, before darting across the road, making his way out of the city central and back to the industrial area that had become the Demon’s main camp. He knew the trail back by heart at this point. By the time he’d turned twelve, he and Theo had snuck out countless times to explore the city. At first the two of them never went that far, always keeping the camp walls in sight. Yet they quickly grew bolder and braver and ventured further and further into the city to scavange and explore.

He could see the camp walls now. They were massive, running around majority of what was once an industrial section of L.A. Parts of the huge metal walls were welded to warehouses, the doors reinforced but still able to accomidate transport and convoys in and out. The walls themselves were reinforced almost constantly with scraps of metal, old rundown cars, pieces of fences, and spare cinderblocks. It was a large camp, one of the largest in the area with small safe houses or lookout stations scattered on its outskirts.

Within the walls, the camp functioned like a small town. Everyone had jobs; there was a bar, a butcher, a grocer, tailors, doctors, teachers, everything a town could need. It was safe and Emizel hated it. He much preferred being outside the walls, out where he could run and jump and climb the abandoned city. Sure it was dangerous, but out there was freedom.

Emizel ducked behind an old moss covered car as the flashlight of a guard swept over where he just stood. He crouched low to the ground, sneaking closer to the camp walls silently and waited till the guard continued his watch further along the wall. Having snuck out so many times, he knew the best places to get in and out and where to avoid being caught by guards that would inevitably hand him over to his dad to deal with.

He scrambled up the side of the wall, hands sharpened to claws to dig into the metal and give him something more to hold onto. His movements were silent, his body hidden in shadow as he slunk over and landed quietly on the other side, dirt crunching beneath his boots softly. He went to sneak off to find Theo when he heard:

‘Well, well, well. I thought I smelled a rat.’

Emizel froze in place and groaned.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Turning, he met the disappointed gaze of a portly but strong man who stood at the side of the wall Emizel had just snuck over, thick arms crossed over his chest, his moustache almost bristling with annoyance as he looked at his son. His hair was the same dirty blonde as Emizel’s, though thinning greatly and shaved at the sides, and his eyes looked tired, as if he was sick of dealing with his son’s shenanigans.

‘Jeffery,’ grumbled Emizel.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Emizel? You know damn well you’re not allowed to leave the camp alone, especially at night!’

‘I was just scavenging, old man.’ Emizel opened his jacket to show the pockets inside stuffed with sodas, comics, some packets of expired food and lighters. ‘See?’

‘You can’t be doing that alone.’

‘He wasn’t alone, Mr. Tucker, sir!’

To Emizel’s delight, and with perfect timing as usual, there was Theo. He’d crept up behind Jeffery, bandana around his neck, dyed hair a scruffy mess and pretending he’d snuck in from a different section of wall. He normally followed the old man around whenever Emizel had snuck off, just in case this exact situation were to occur.

‘Neither of you boys should be sneaking out in the first place!’ Jeffery let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the sides of his temple. ‘It’s late. Bed, both of you, now. We’ll discuss this in the morning.’

Emizel chuckled, trying to keep the grin off his face so Jeffery wouldn’t see his fangs and turned quickly, drapping an arm around Theo’s shoulder as the two walked away from the old man. Theo elbowed Emizel lightly and the two shared quiet laughs between them as they disappeared into camp.

The streets were empty, curfew obviously being a few hours ago at this point. As they walked, Emizel told Theo about his narrow escape from earlier, embellishing certain parts for the hell of it. They spoke quietly but happily, making their way to the small shack they shared.

Technically it belonged to Theo, he’d been given his own space away from his parents home when he had turned eighteen, but Emizel crashed there often enough he considered it his too. It was a single room, with a small kitchenette and bathroom tucked off to the side. A queen mattress lay on the floor in the corner, covered in a mess of blankets and pillows, a couple of empty soda cans beside it. Milk cartons turned on their side and stacked on top of each other acted as Theo’s - and by extension, Emizel’s - wardobe, though Emizel insisted the floor worked just as well. There was a large patched up beanbag and a bookshelf filled with comics Emizel had scavanged for his friend and the two had read through each one at least a dozen times until Emizel was able to find more.

It was small, and it wasn’t much, but it was cozy. The two hung out there often - talking shit or testing Emizel’s vampire powers or sleeping through the day so they could scavange at night or playing boardgames they didn’t know the rules to so they’d make them up as they played.

They had a good thing going.

Emizel shrugged off his jacket and the strap with the metal pipe, dumping them on the floor, and threw himself onto the mattress with a comfortable sigh. Behind him, Theo shut the door, picked up Emizel’s jacket and put it aside before joining Emizel on the mattress.

‘You’re such an idiot, dude.’

Emizel grinned.

Theo stared.

He always stared when Emizel smiled; his teeth had changed to sharp fangs, almost like a sharks, since he’d been turned into a vampire. Somehow they suited him better and Theo actually liked them a lot. He had a vivid memory of him pulling Emizel’s lips aside to see them properly the first time the blonde had showed them off to him.

He also knew exactly how those teeth felt digging into his skin. A few nights after Emizel had first been turned and had hid himself out in a safe house outisde of the camp, Theo had gone to check on him. As soon as he’d entered the house and called out for Emizel, the blonde had jumped him, shoving him hard against the floor. Theo had Emizel’s ravenous, glowing red eyes permanently seared into his mind and that voice, deep and rumbling, sent shivers down his spine just thinking about it.

‘Yeah, but I’m your favourite idiot,’ retorted Emizel with a chuckle, pulling Theo from his thoughts. ‘What’s Jeffery gonna do about me sneaking out anyway?’

Theo ran a hand through his hair, looking away from Emizel as to not get distracted again.

‘Ah, yeah, nothing I guess. I doubt he’d actually kick you out man.’

‘Exactly!’ Emizel threw his hands up in exasperation. ‘He acts all tough and mighty and makes these empty threats about kicking me out, but man, he needs me. This place would crumble without me here.’

‘Our mighty leader!’ laughed Theo, all thoughts of red eyes and sharp teeth gone from his mind.

‘Oh, speaking of being mighty and awesome and super fucking cool-’ Emizel sat up and reached over to his jacket, dragging it over and pulling a soda can from one of the many pockets. He tossed it to Theo whose eyes lit up with delight as he caught it. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘Dude! You’re the best!’

Theo cracked the can open and took a hearty swig, sighing deeply with content afterwards. Any time Emizel went scavenging, the blonde always searched for any kind of soda for his best friend. Once upon a time, when the two of them were much younger, the camp had a decent supply of sodas, but nowadays it was a rare commodity. So to see his friend delight in a simple beverage made Emizel smile.

Theo sipped at his soda contentedly as Emizel lay back on the mattress, arms behind his head. He was happy here. Sure, Jeffery was a jerk, and getting outside the camp walls was often a difficult task, but Emizel was happy.

He knew this was how life - his unlife - was meant to be.

Chapter Text

Shilo sat with his knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his legs, short panicked breaths shaking his whole body as he stared into space.

He was in shock.

Of course.

This had to be shock. He had read about it in one of his many, many books. Never once had he experienced such a strong feeling before and it had racked his whole body. Yet he was certain it was shock. It was the only explaination after everything that had happened.

He could hear someone talking to him, saying words he couldn’t make out properly. The world sounded muffled and distant. Shilo tried to focus on the voice;

‘-have to go,’ the voice was saying. ‘Prince-’

Shilo could barely focus on the man in front of him. What was his name again? Surely he remembered his name. It was just on the tip of his tongue; surely he could say his name, tell him to be quiet, to leave him alone. No name came to him though.

Shock, he reminded himself. Yes, it certainly had to be shock.

Everything was gone.

He was in shock.

His home. His mother. His books.

He didn’t want to be in shock anymore.

Shilo’s head hurt.

‘My prince…’

That voice again. That man’s voice. Why was he still talking? Shouldn’t he have shut up by now? There was no need for him to be speaking so much.

Shilo felt a strong hand on his shoulder. It shook him slightly but he shrugged it off. He didn’t want to be touched right now.

This was it. This was the worst possibly thing to have happened. Why did it have to happen? He had been angry and upset and tired of being kept behind a wall, always being told what to do. So why? Why of all things to happen, did it have to be this? And why now? His last words to his mother had been ones of anger. No it wasn’t anger. Frustration? That could be it. Perhaps it was closer to irritation.

It didn’t matter anymore.

His home was gone.

His mother was gone.

‘My prince, please, we should really get out of the open,’ said the guard pestering him, his words finally breaking through to Shilo. ‘We need to leave.’

‘Where to?’ Shilo finally snapped. His words came out angry and sharp, making the guard before him straighten in surprise. ‘Huh? Leave to where? Exactly where are we meant to go?’

The man before him faltered slightly, a look of uncertainty crossing his face only momentarily.

‘You mother… us guards were told of a camp, if anything like this were to happen… a place that could be safe for u-’ He paused and quickly corrected himself. ‘For you. Safe for you, my prince.’

Shilo hid his face against his knees; he didn’t want to hear it. There was no place safe for him now. The outside world was horrible and dirty and dangerous, and he wished for his home back. He could still smell the smoke lingering heavily in the air. It made him sick. Almost as sick as hearing mention of his mother again. He wished this man would stop bringing her up.

This was her fault.

Shilo froze.

How could he think such a thing? That this was all his mother’s fault? No, this couldn’t be her fault. It was those horrible people. It was their fault. They’d stormed their camp. Shilo had just been pacing his room, frustrated with the fight he’d had with his mother. He’d been grounded, indefinitely, and he’d been upset. He’d had enough. He was planning on running away, sneaking through the camp to find someone to take him beyond its walls. It was then that chaos had erupted.

Grimslayers.

He’d heard the name once before while eavesdropping on a meeting his mother was having with the leaders of neighbouring camps - something to do with difficulty exchanging resources. He didn’t know much about them, just that they were hunters.

Monster hunters.

Monster hunters that had attacked their camp; a camp that held a large vampire population. Yet they were vampires that protected humans from the horrors of the outside world in exchange for blood for survival. Shilo had never found anything wrong with it, to him it was how it had always been. Every morning, waking up to a fresh bottle of blood, no need to drink right from the source. It kept everyone safe.

It had been Shilo’s mother - The Queen of Vampires - who organised this way of life for the camp. She and Shilo had come to America at the very beginning of the outbreak due to some sort of political discourse in California. It’d been the first time Shilo had ever left Umbre Castle in his life and he was delighted his mother trusted him enough to be brought with her. He had become less delighted the longer they stayed. Every year that passed, she would tell him they’d return to Romania soon but it never happened.

Where they stayed once had a camp name of its own, but it quickly became known as Umbre Camp instead. Vampires had flocked to it. Humans that were originally part of it stayed with the promise of vampiric protection. For twelve years they’d been there without issue as they survived the zombie outbreak.

Then the Grimslayers had taken it all away in one night.

Burned the camp to the ground. Shilo didn’t know the details. All he remembered was the seering bright light of something falling from the sky and then fire. So much fire. The creature inside him had panicked at the first sight of it and he had bolted. He didn’t make it far until he had run into… into… what was his name again?

‘What is your name?’ asked Shilo, eventually looking up to the guard after a long moment of silence.

‘My name is Grefgore.’

Without really meaning to, Shilo gave the man a appalled look. ‘I’m not going to call you that. Can I call you Gref? It’s shorter.’

‘Of course, my prince.’

Satisfied, Shilo finally stood up, dusted himself off as best he could and straightened his clothes. He felt somewhat calmer now. Not completely, but at least he could breath again and his body had stopped shaking. The dark green jacket he wore had a tear in the sleeve and he despaired at the thought of having nothing new to change into. Another thing to add to the list of things that were now gone.

Before he could dwell any longer on the thoughts of what he’d lost, Shilo turned to Grefgore.

‘Well then, where are we going?’

Grefgore straightened up and glanced around. It was still at least three hours until sunrise and they needed to hurry if they were to make it into central L.A.

‘Follow me, Prince Shilo.’

.:*-~..~-*:.

Shilo and Grefgore made their way along a four lane highway of cracked asphalt and weeds. It was hard to see where the road began and the weeds ended. There were mounds of grass over the scattered run down vehicles, acting as a sort of barricade at the beginning of the large city. Grefgore led the way, moving and climbing over the rusted machines and checking the way was safe. Shilo followed along begrudgingly but still as silently as he possible could.

‘I do not want to be here,’ mumbled Shilo softly as he walked beside Grefgore between a stretch of rusted cars.

It felt as though they’d been walking for days. At one point Grefgore had offered to carry Shilo but he had quickly declined. That wasn’t necessary. Sure, his feet were sore and there was a gnawing hunger in his stomach, but he did not want to be babied. He’d barely paid attention to the scenery around him as they walked; everything looked the same. Trees, crumbling buildings, overgrown greenery, cracked pavements, debris scattered everywhere, rusted car after rusted car - it all just repeated. Nothing seemed to change.

‘We will be there soon, my prince. I’m most certain of it. Just a little longer.’

‘You said that before!’ snapped Shilo, his words more irritated than intended but he had no more energy to hide his emotions. He came to a stop. Grefgore turned to look at him with concern. ‘I am tired! I’m hungry! I need to rest!’

‘We can… stop for just a moment, my prince,’ said Grefgore reluctantly.

Nervously, he glanced around. They were still a good thirty minute walk from the camp he’d been told about. They’d been moving at a steady pace, but now Shilo was growing much more weary and Grefgore was worried about the sun rising. He climbed to the top of a car and looked out over the road in the direction they were headed; perhaps he could find a shorter way.

It was as Shilo sulked, now leaning against an overturned car as he watched Grefgore, that he heard it.

Clicking.

Shuffling.

Groaning.

He’d hardly noticed it at first, too preoccupied with his discomfort but it was there, faintly behind him and Grefgore, but quickly getting closer.

‘Grefgore… Do you… do you hear that?’

Grefgore had heard it. His spun back to look the way they’d come, hand reaching for the serrated machete that was strapped to his side and unsheathed it. The unmistakable sound of zombies approaching. From his vantage point atop the car he could see movement shuffling slowly through the vehicles behind them.

‘We need to go, my prince. Now.’ Grefgore spoke urgently, quickly climbing off the car and hurrying to Shilo’s side. ‘You may need to run.’

Shilo was frozen to the spot. His eyes wide as he looked at Grefgore and back towards the zombies. Their clicking noises rung through his ears and sent a shiver down his spine. In all his time at Camp Umbre he had never actually seen a zombie. He’d heard them, shuffling around the walls at night, making those horrid clicking sounds before being gunned down and torched by a camp patrol. Not once had he seen one though. He’d never actually encountered one, unlike many within the camp telling horrible tales of narrow escapes from the undead monsters outside.

There were no walls here to protect him now.

‘Shilo,’ urged Grefgore. ‘I can’t fight a horde. Please, my prince, we need to go.’

Shilo felt the hand grip his arm. He felt the tug. His feet took a step forward without him meaning too and suddenly he was being pulled between cars by Grefgore. Each footstep felt unsteady and he clung now to Grefgore. They moved quickly. The tall city buildings around them felt as though they were caving in upon Shilo. Grefgore looked focused though, moving stealthily yet efficiently. He kept his hand tightly gripped around Shilo’s arm, keeping him close.

The sounds of clicking seemed to fade into the distance as the two came to a short stop, crouching low behind a crashed van and the corner of a building. It seemed as though the horde skulking behind hadn’t noticed them. Shilo thanked whatever higher being out there that seemed to be looking out for him.

That’s when the horrid creature appeared.

Creature was the only way to describe it.

It no longer looked human.

What was once a human face was now an insect like monstrosity, with horrifying pincers protruding from its multiple mouthparts. The eyes were unfocused and large. Discoloured, hardened skin clung to bone like an extra layer of insectile armour. The clothes it once wore were nothing but tattered ribbons hanging from its boney, armoured body. Its limbs were elongated and bent in all the wrong ways and littered with protruding spikes.

Shilo screamed as it lunged towards them and scrambled back. A swipe of its spiked arm like appendage barely missing him. He almost fell but Grefgore grabbed him, hauling him to his feet and out of the way of the terrifying monster shuffling towards them.

Metal met with beast as Grefgore swung down his machete onto the outstretched arm. Shilo’s eyes widened in horror as he watched the sharp weapon barely leave a scratch as it connected. Its skin was like armour.

‘Run.’

Shilo ran.

His legs burned. His feet ached. His chest stung. He focused on the grip Grefgore had on his arm. They turned a corner quickly, Shilo almost clipping his shoulder against the side mirror of an old car. Moving quickly, they weaved between more cars, the city seemingly overrun by the rusting, useless vehicles. Shilo twisted his head to look back as he heard the shattering of glass behind them but Grefgore tugged him forward.

‘No. Don’t look back.’

Grefgore had his head on a swivel though. Picking the best route within a split second. Shilo was now grateful that of all people he’d been left with after the Grimslayer raid, that it was Grefgore. He clearly knew how to survive in this wasteland. Shilo felt distressed as he realised he probably would have already been dead if it weren’t for Grefgore.

The zombies weren’t fast moving creatures by any means, but they weren’t slow either. Shilo was struggling to keep up, but at least they seemed to be outrunning their pursuer thanks to Grefgore.

Ahead of them as they ran was an overturned bus and multiple crashed vehicles. The wreckage blocked the way ahead. Panic rose in Shilo. Grefgore however, barely slowed. He dragged Shilo towards the back end of the bus, pushing him in front and towards a small gap that lead down an alleyway. It was a tight squeeze but managable. The two hurried down the alleyway yet it came to a sudden, dark end and Grefgore jogged to a stop, Shilo almost collapsing beside him but to his credit, he remained on his feet.

It was a dead end.

Grefgore looked down to the alleyway entrance. No sign of zombies yet, but it wouldn’t be long before they’d track them down.

Shilo felt a fresh shiver go up his spine as he felt eyes upon him within the alleyway and he turned slowly to look down towards the dead end. It was nothing but shadows, but he swore he could see the dark shape of someone lurking there. It was like the shadows were moving ever so slightly.

‘Grefgore… Grefgore, who is that?’ Shilo whacked the guards shoulder, yet his eyes stayed locked onto the shadowy silhouette watching them from the back of the alleyway. He reached for Grefgore again, this time smacking his face and again on the shoulder. ‘Grefgore!’

To his credit, Grefgore quickly reached for his weapon again and stepped in front of Shilo to protect him.

‘Who’s there?’ demanded Grefgore.

‘It’s a vampire,’ Shilo said nervously. He wasn’t sure how he knew, he just did. Some sixth sense he wasn’t certain about.

The darkness fell, exposing more alleyway in the faint night light and from those shadows slowly emerged a tall man. Hair black as night, skin pale and undead, tinted glasses covering his eyes. He wore dark clothes, somewhat fashionable despite the current world around them, though certainly they’d seen much better days; and from around his shoulders, perked up a black cat that titled its head with a small chirp. The shadows seemed to coil from around him, flickering around his body and off his skin.

‘I’m not here for you,’ said the man, voice deep and menacing.

He turned to leave, but Shilo pushed by Grefgore and stumbled forward.

‘Please don’t go! You’re a vampire too, yes?’

The man stopped in his tracks, back turned to them. Shilo continued.

‘Please, we are just trying to reach a camp. If you could help us-’

‘A camp?’

‘Yes, here, in L.A. Camp… Crépuscule?’

Shilo watched the vampire tilt his head to the side as he glanced back at them, the cat around his shoulders mimicking his movements. He stayed silent for so long that Shilo glanced at Grefgore uncertainly. Perhaps this was not a vampire to be trusted.

‘I’ve… heard of it.’

‘You have? Do you know how we could get there? Is it close? Could you take us? Please!’

A loud crash from behind them made Shilo jump and cling to Grefgore’s arm. The sounds of clicking and groaning was coming closer and closer. The vampire from the shadows looked past them down the alleyway towards the oncoming zombies and muttered under his breath.

‘What a pain.’

Chapter Text

Arthur watched carefully from behind dark sunglasses as the sun set lower and lower behind the wasteland that was once Los Angeles.

He couldn’t risk waiting around a moment longer. There were places he needed to be after all. It had been so long; so incredibly long that he had thought perhaps there was no longer any point in seeking his revenge even with forever ahead of him. Yet now suddenly he had a lead. A solid lead. If this truly led anywhere he’d undoubtedly be in Magnus’ debt.

The black cat wrapped cozily around his shoulders purred and nuzzled her head against his.

‘Yes, Void, I know,’ he mumbled, voice gruff. ‘We’re going.’

Arthur stood, collecting his belts and long armoured coat, shrugging them on and letting Void curl around his shoulders once again. The abandoned building they’d stayed in for the day had a decent view towards Los Angeles; a city Arthur had never been to before. He’d traveled most of the America’s by now, each town and city swarming with as many monsters as the last. He expected no different here.

Camp Crépuscule.

A vampiric camp in the heart of L.A and exactly where he needed to head. Magnus’ directions had been mostly clear and he needed to hurry before anything “went down” as Magnus had put it. If he had any chance of finding who he was after, it would be now. After so many years, he was finally getting close; he couldn’t squander this opportunity.

Exiting the building, Arthur began his trek through the city.

He stuck to alleyways, away from the main roads. It was less likely to encounter zombies during the night in alleyways; he’d noticed they tended to roam more often during the nights, even following after lights where they could. So he kept to the shadows.

As he slunk through the darkness, Void perked up on his shoulder, looking towards the street. Arthur stopped, hearing the noise now too. He pulled the shadows tighter around him and Void, moving quietly to the edge of the alleyway as he looked out to the street. In the center of the road, a pile up of five cars sat rusting and collecting weeds and as Arthur watched silently, he saw movement through one of the broken car windows. If it was a zombie, he simply needed to run; there was no need to engage. If it were a human however… well, Arthur still needed to feed.

The figure moved from out of the car, standing up straight and glancing around.

Just a man.

A tall man, wearing a beanie and a heavy coat. He held a baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around it to his side as he moved around the wrecked cars to continue his search. Just the one man. Perhaps there were more elsewhere but Arthur couldn’t hear or smell any nearby, even with his heightened senses.

He stepped out from the shadows, letting them linger after him as he silently and cautiously made his way towards the man. Unfortunately he wasn’t completely stealthy though, and as he neared, his foot kicked a loose stone across the ground causing the man to spin around in surprise, baseball bat gripped tightly in his hands.

Arthur sighed with annoyance. ‘Please don’t.’

‘Fuck you, spooky!’

The man went to run at Arthur, his bat raised to swing at him yet as he did Arthur’s pale eyes glowed, his voice echoing darkly as he spoke:

‘Stop.’

-the man stopped dead in his tracks, bat still raised but his body frozen to the spot, muscles straining against the vampiric command.

Arthur’s voiced echoed again. ‘Silence.’

A frightened yelp from the man was cut short as his lips clamped shut, turning his yelp into muffled whine. Letting out a heavy sigh, Arthur barely raised a finger and the shadow of the man seemingly detached itself from him and wrapped him in a blanket of darkness. The bat dropped to the ground with a clatter as the man’s eyes widened in terror, his muffled scream cut off as a shadowy tendril covered his face entirely.

Arthur looked around. There was no real good spot to be doing this, but his hunger was only growing. Using the shadows to maneuver the man to sit, leant up against the car he’d been scavenging through, Arthur knelt beside him, Void jumping off his shoulders to inspect the shadow man.

Coils of darkness moved up his arm, revealing his wrist. Void sniffed the exposed skin and looked up at Arthur who nodded. Void’s little fangs were sharper than Arthur’s since they’d been dulled, so she clamped down on the soft flesh and drew blood. She drank a little for herself before stepping back to clean her paws as Arthur pulled an ornate silver flask from his jacket, holding the opening against the wound as blood trickled into it.

Once it filled, Arthur took a sip. It wasn’t as good as drinking blood directly from the wound, but it was still enough. Void flicked her tail patiently as she waited for Arthur to refill the flask before pocketing it once again and she licked the wound, her saliva closing it. The man’s head dipped, unconscious now beneath the shadows.

Arthur sighed. ‘Alright, that’ll do. Let’s go, Void.’

The black cat jumped back onto Arthur’s shoulders and they continued on their way, back through alleyways and towards the heart of the city. For the most part of their trek, it appeared as though luck was on he and Void’s side. Yet, like most things in Arthur’s unlife, his luck was quick to run out.

He heard the scuffle towards the front of the alleyway and the click of zombies in the distance. Footsteps were heading towards him - someone running. With not enough time to turn back, Arthur pulled the shadows towards him, encasing him and Void within and hiding the rest of the alleyway from view. From a gap between the wall of the alleyway and the bus that blocked its entrance, squeezed through two figures.

He was quick to notice the pale skin, the pointed ears, red eyes - vampires.

Arthur stayed silent and watched from the shadows.

A blonde boy ran towards him, coming to a sudden stop a few feet away. His clothes were too clean. Even with the scattered markings of dirt, his clothes were far too clean, too proper, and too neat for the wasteland. The other man that stopped beside him however was dressed like a fighter; reinforced bike armour strapped across his body, a machete in his hand, knee pads, wrist guards, and what looked like an old bicycle helmet.

Arthur frowned as he suddenly felt eyes on him.

‘Grefgore… Grefgore, who is that?’ He watched the younger vampire whack the other for attention, his eyes locked perfectly onto where Arthur stood hidden within the darkness. ‘Grefgore!’

A disgruntled feeling passed over Arthur as he watched him step in front of the younger one, machete raised.

‘Who’s there?’ he demanded.

Arthur heard the younger one speak with certainty. ‘It’s a vampire.’

Letting out a heavy sigh of annoyance, Arthur stepped from the shadows. Dark tendrils dragged after him as the shadows receded, almost wanting to keep him within the darkness. He’d been found out though, there was no use hiding any longer. These two certainly didn’t seem to be that big a threat.

‘I’m not here for you,’ he said bluntly as he turned to leave them.

The younger vampire pushed past the other, eagerness in his voice.

‘Please don’t go! You’re a vampire too, yes?’

Arthur stopped in his tracks, back turned to them. The boy continued.

‘Please, we are just trying to reach a camp. If you could help us-’

‘A camp?’

‘Yes, here, in L.A. Camp… Crépuscule?’

This was the same camp he was headed to. He tilted his head to the side, glancing back at them, Void on his shoulders copying him. Certainly it wouldn’t hurt to tag along with them, watch eachothers backs for zombies. Then again, a larger group was difficult to travel with. The camp wasn’t much further though - as long as the directions Magnus had given him were correct.

‘I’ve… heard of it,’ he said eventually.

‘You have? Do you know how we could get there? Is it close? Could you take us? Please!’

A loud crash from the entrance of the alleyway made the younger vampire jump and cling to the others arm. The sounds of clicking and groaning were coming closer and closer. Arthur looked past them down the alleyway towards the oncoming zombies and muttered under his breath.

‘What a pain.’

The first zombie pushed itself through the gap by the bus that covered the alleyway entrance and stumbled, bones cracking as it adjusted itself. It’s skinny insectile limbs shoved itself off the wall and towards the three vampires, screeching as it quickly advanced. The vampire with the machete - Grefgore, Arthur heard him be called - stepped in front of the smaller blonde one, weapon raised and ready.

‘Behind me, my prince.’

Prince? Arthur frowned but shoved the thought aside for now as he moved forward, hurriedly walking past the two, angry shadowy tendrils rising from the ground around his feet. The zombie drew closer, its spiked arm appendage slashing out at Arthur who managed to deflect it with a shadow. It didn’t stop its momentum though, lunging once again. In a blink, a second shadow wrapped itself around the zombie’s torso, trapping its arms by its side, squeezing. The zombie let out a screech that became a gurgle of desperate clicks and dying noises as Arthur used the shadows to crush it. Dark blood dripped from its mouthparts and its body twitched as it was dropped to the ground.

Another crash.

Another zombie.

This one much bigger than the last; and certainly stronger too. It pushed the bus, moving the entire thing to the side to create space for it to enter the alleyway. Arthur cursed to himself. He really didn’t like the bigger zombies. His shadows weren’t nearly as effective against their heavily armoured bodies and bulky size. Luckily they moved slower, but it was still too risky to engage.

‘Shit…’ Arthur turned back to the two, moving quickly. ‘We should run.’

‘Oh no, not more running,’ whined the blonde. His whine became a yelp though as the large zombie stumbled towards them; huge, dangerous looking pincers scraping along the concrete alleyway, making guttural clicks as it advanced. ‘Nevermind! We are running!’

Arthur took off, the other two behind him.

There was really only one way to go now - up. Up and over, along the rooftops. Not Arthur’s preferred way of traversing, but necessary for now. He’d passed a fire escape when he’d first entered this alleyway. The ladder up had been broken off but it wasn’t inaccessible. The zombie was lagging behind them, clicking and chittering with each movement as it scuffled closer.

‘Up there.’ Arthur pointed to the fire escape.

‘I cannot get up there!’ exclaimed the boy in distress.

Arthur rolled his eyes. They didn’t have time for this. A shadow coiled up from the ground, wrapped around the younger vampires waist and hoisted him up, tossing him ungracefully onto the platform. He did the same for Grefgore. Arthur jumped, catching the edge and pulling himself up just as the zombie made a grab for him with its pincer. His coat was torn slightly but luckily he wasn’t snagged.

‘Go, go, up,’ he urged, ushering the other two up the fire escape stairs.

Soon enough, they were atop the roof of the building, looking down into the dark alleyway where the brutish zombie now paced, seemingly mad it lost its prey.

‘Thank you,’ gasped the blonde boy, peaking over the edge to look down at the zombie then back up at Arthur. ‘You saved us.’

Arthur gave a grunt of acknowledgment but said nothing more as he checked the directions Magnus had given him. Camp Crépuscule wasn’t far now. Sunrise was steadily approaching and Arthur certainly didn’t want to be on a rooftop when the sun did rise; he doubted these other vampires wanted that either.

‘Follow me.’

‘Right, yes, of course.’

There was mostly silence between them all as they made their way from rooftop to rooftop, using Arthur’s shadows as bridges where needed. The two other vampires spoke in hushed whispers that Arthur couldn’t be bothered to listen in on. The young blonde appeared to be on edge, or as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself from what he was about to say each time even with the encouragement from this Grefgore. Eventually though, he did manage to speak up.

‘I am… Prince Shilo, and this is Grefgore, my companion,’ he said, the uncertainty clear to hear in his voice. ‘What… ah, what can we call you?’

‘If you insist on addressing me, “sir” is fine.’ Arthur paused. There it was again. ‘Prince?’

‘Ah yes, I am the Prince.’

‘The prince?’

‘Yes? My mother, the Queen, she…’ The boy’s voice broke a little and Arthur saw Grefgore give him a consoling pat on the back. ‘She is gone…’

Arthur didn’t stop walking, but a puzzled look crossed his face, furrowed brows hidden behind his dark glasses. ‘Gone?’

‘She… Grimslayers. Our camp was attacked… She’s gone.’ Shilo sniffled.

Arthur glanced at Shilo. He understood the clean appearance now. This boy - prince - clearly had never left his camp a day in his unlife. Arthur frowned though as he felt something ache inside him; an all too familiar feeling of lose and grief that haunted him nightly.

He wanted to say more to the prince, yet as they rounded the corner of a huge rooftop air duct, there it was.

Camp Crépuscule.

A towering wall that stretched across the main road between two buildings, blocked the way ahead. Any entrance from neighbouring buildings across from the wall were sealed and seemingly guarded. Alleyways were blocked off by barricades made of anything laying around - old cars, buses, fences, dumpsters; piled high with no chance of easy access into the camp. A huge banner with a vampiric house symbol painted crudely upon it hung from the wall.

‘We… we made it.’ There was a hint of relief in Shilo’s words.

‘We better find an entrance. Sunrise is soon,’ said Arthur plainly.

‘Right, yes, of course. Lead the way.’ 

Chapter Text

Emizel woke from his restless sleep to the sound of boots running up the gravel path to Theo’s little house. The sun seemed to be almost set, the slivers of fading light that broke through the holes in the sheet over the window had dust motes dancing in its rays. He sat up, still groggy from sleep as Theo burst through the door and quickly slammed it shut behind him.

Emizel frowned.

‘Dude, what’s up?’

‘Monster… hunters…’ was all Theo said through gasps.

Emizel’s sleepy expression instantly became a frown as he jumped up from the mattress on the floor and began pulling his clothes on; hopping from one foot to the other as he tugged on his boots.

‘What the fuck are monster hunters doing here?’

The two of them had only ever heard rumours of these so called hunters. Supposedly they’d appeared barely a year after the zombie outbreak began and helped where they could to control the hordes. They didn’t just go after zombies though. While the zombies were their main target, they would go after any other creature of darkness that had clawed its way out of the shadows during the chaos of the outbreak. They were ruthless, meticulous, and incredibly prepared; like they’d been doing this kind of thing for hundreds of years.

Never before had Emizel heard of them being so near or even in L.A though.

When the zombie outbreak hit L.A it had been utter chaos. Then when military action failed and the government inevitably fell, L.A, New York, Chicago and other cities were left to become dead zones. A lot of people were evacuated but a lot were left behind during military withdrawal. Jeffery had helped a lot of people during that time; he was a dooms day prepper after all - one good thing about him in Emizel’s eyes. Many of his friends in the Demons had been saved by Jeffery’s crazy dooms day prepping and random survival knowledge.

They’d never needed nor wanted help from hunters.

Surely Jeffery knew better than to trust them - at least Emizel would hope so, but he wasn’t going to hold out hope for that.

‘I don’t know dude, but your dad’s talking to them at the gate. They’re saying something about searching the camp,’ panted out Theo, finally catching his breath.

‘What? Fuck… Fuck, fuck, FUCK!’

‘We gotta get you out of here, dude. Or hide. Or something! What do we do?’ Theo sounded just as panicked as Emizel felt. ‘If they find you, you’re dead!’

‘They’re at the gate?’

‘Yeah, Jeffery hasn’t let them in yet. But dude, they’re being real pushy about it. I think he might just do it.’

‘Shit. Of course he’d do something fucking stupid like that.’ Emizel shrugged on his jacket and kicked an empty soda can across the room in his frustration. ‘What’s the bet they don’t figure out I’m a vampire?’

He turned to Theo, hood of his jacket up and low over his face, mouth shut, arms out, waiting to be judged. It’d been two years since he turned. His vampiric features had only grown more and more prominent as time passed. His ears had become pointier, his eyes redder, his skin paler than ever and even his nails had becoming naturally sharper. Not to mention his sharp shark like teeth. Somehow he’d managed to keep his vampire status a secret to everyone else in the camp aside from Theo who had witnessed the entire transformation - mostly because he started avoiding everyone else as best as possible, and was careful to avoid eye contact or even smirking to wide when he belittled Jeffery’s intelligence.

It would no doubt be harder to hide around hunters though. Surely they’d be able to spot a vampire a mile away.

Theo gave Emizel a pained look then shook his head.

‘Yeah… dude… I don’t know what to tell you.’

‘Shit… Sun still up?’

‘Barely.’

Emizel nodded as he started pacing the small room. There was no way he was letting himself get taken out by hunters that easily. He could sneak over the walls and hide for the night, assuming they weren’t already surrounding the entire camp. There were plenty of places within the camp that could hide him well enough but he couldn’t be certain how thoroughly these hunters would search.

A shrill siren from the gates to the camp wailed twice in the distance and Emizel and Theo turned to each other with wide eyes.

‘Shit…’

‘Shit!’

‘Your dad’s let them in.’ There was panic again in Theo’s voice. ‘Shit dude, what are we going to do?’

Emizel kicked an empty can across the room and cursed. He raked his hands through his already scruffy hair. His mind was racing. He’d never encountered a hunter before, let alone a whole convoy of them. There was no way of knowing what they were capable of or what they knew of vampires, because although Emizel had figured a lot out on his own, he was certain there was still a lot he didn’t know.

Maybe he’d just throw caution to the wind and take these hunters on.

It’d probably end badly but at least he’d go down fighting.

A stupid idea really, and he couldn’t leave Theo behind like that; but it was either that or hiding.

Hiding he was actually amazing at. He’d learnt very quickly how to disappear into the shadows, silent and stealthy. Hiding somewhere high was always his go to; Bugs and even people were very stupid and rarely looked above themselves. He doubted these hunters were that stupid but it was worth the risk.

He was about to tell Theo to help him find somewhere high up to hide when a familiar crunch of footsteps on the gravel outside made his ears perk up, his eyes darting to the door. Theo noticed and looked to the door anxiously too then back to Emizel.

‘It’s just Jeffery.’ Emizel could easily recognize his father’s heavy footsteps.

Theo still didn’t relax.

Two heavy knocks hit the wooden door before it swung open and Jeffery stepped into the small house. He opened his mouth to speak-

‘What the hell is wrong with you, old man? Letting those people into the camp, you don’t know for sure what their deal is!’ snapped Emizel before Jeffery could even get a word out.

‘Hey, that is no way to talk to your father, son,’ huffed Jeffery.

Emizel rolled his eyes and pushed down a growl that threatened to escape from his throat. ‘You’ve got to be joking.’

‘Now listen here, Emizel,’ began Jeffery. ‘Those people out there call themselves Grimslayers, and they’re protectors, alright? They kill Bugs, vampires, supernatural monsters of all kinds and they’re here to help reinforce the camp. In fact they’re helping all the camps around here.’

‘The camp doesn’t need reinforcing,’ grumbled Emizel.

‘Yes it does, you know this. Hell, son, you’re the one who keeps sneaking in and out, so if you can do that, who’s to say a Bug couldn’t?’

‘Bug’s are stupid, I’m not.’

Jeffery shook his head disapprovingly. Emizel glanced by him, checking the still open door for any of these Grimslayers. The coast seemed clear, for now. Theo stood by Emizel’s side, seemingly doing his best to keep an eye out too. Emizel stopped himself from grinning in front of Jeffery at the fact that Theo truly always had his back, and instead turned his focus back to his father.

‘Where are these fuckers then?’

‘Bringing in their convoy. You are going to show them where you’ve been getting in and out from.’

‘What?! No!’

‘Watch it, Emizel! You do as I say right now, or-.’

Emizel scoffed. ‘Or what?’

Jeffery crossed his arms, planting himself firmly between Emizel and the door, his one easy exit. Theo shuffled in place nervously beside his friend. He was never great dealing with Jeffery and Emizel’s dynamic, whatever it was. Sure he could throw in an easy lie or two on occasion to get Jeffery to back off, but when these two butted heads like this, Theo knew he was better off on the sidelines more often than not.

‘Get out of the way, Jeffery,’ Emizel said coldly. ‘If you know what’s good for you.’

‘You’re not going anywhere unless I tell you so, young man.’ Jeffery’s tone was stern and commanding but Emizel wasn’t hearing any of it. ‘I raised you, so you do as I say.’

It really didn’t matter that Emizel was a good foot smaller than Jeffery, he still shoved past him, making the old man stumble slightly as he rushed to the door. He wasn’t going to sit still while these hunters entered his camp; and he certainly wasn’t going to wait around and listen to anything else Jeffery had to say.

‘Hold it right there, mister!’ snapped Jeffery angrily, but Emizel ignored him, hurrying out the door and slamming it shut behind him. He heard Jeffery’s angry muffled voice behind him. ‘That god damn boy- I swear-’

Emizel took off.

He felt bad for leaving Theo, but at least Theo could try slow down his father while he made an escape attempt.

The sun had set by now, leaving the world in a fading twilight hue as it slowly grew darker and darker. Regardless of how dark it was becoming, there were plenty of people wandering the camp still, many heading to the gate to help this convoy of Grimslayers in. At least they had come during the night; if they’d arrived to the camp during the day, Emizel was sure he’d have no chance to hide.

Emizel stuck to the shadows, keeping low and silent as he crept towards the gate. Maybe, just maybe in the chaos of bringing in the convoy, he could slip through into the night to hide until these Grimslayers left. It was risky, but he’d need to make a risky move to avoid being found.

As he neared the open gate, Emizel could see heavily armoured trucks being directed through. Around them were dozens of people all dressed in what looked like riot gear, helmets included. They were decked out with guns, stakes, bottles of what Emizel could only guess to be holy water and plenty of other gear he couldn’t put a name to. They were definitely prepared to kill vampires and zombies and probably an sort of supernatural being thrown their way.

‘Mr Tucker.’ The voice caught Emizel’s attention and as he turned to find its source, he spied his father walking towards the gate, a disgruntled look upon his face as he approached the Grimslayer. ‘Sir, thank you again for your understanding.’

Jeffery grunted in response. ‘Was trying to find my no good son to help you with the weak points in the wall, but he’s run off.’

‘It’s not a problem sir, we have a pretty good eye for weak points. Just leave it to us.’

Again, Jeffery just grunted. From his hiding spot, Emizel smirked to himself as he watched Jeffery talk with the Grimslayer. Damn right he’d run off. Run off to keep his damn un-life.

‘Mr Tucker! Sir!’ A man from up on the wall, looking through the scope of a sniper rifle, called down to Jeffery. ‘We got Bugs incoming! Lots of them headed this way. Less than a klick and moving fast!’

The Grimslayer next to Jeffery turned to look at the older man quizzically.

‘Bugs?’

‘It’s what we call them zombies,’ said Jeffery gruffly. He called back to the man on the wall. ‘Just Bugs?’

‘Looks like a Hornet might be riling them up, pushing them this direction, and I think some Beetles are in this horde too.’ The man sounded worried. ‘Sir, there’s really a lot of them. Wait… What the… What the fuck?!’

‘What?’

‘I don’t… I don’t know…’

Emizel could hear the man’s voice trembling with fear and resisted the urge to sneak a peak.

‘Fuck it… Get that gate down!’ ordered Jeffery. ‘Now!’

‘We still have men outside!’ protested the Grimslayer.

‘Then hurry it up! If their asses aren’t inside by the time that gate shuts, they’re-’

Jefferey didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as screams of abject terror and agony from beyond the wall cut him off. Deafening blasts of gunfire followed as Demons quickly ran to their stations yet Emizel stayed hidden. They’d handle it - whatever it was. Right now he had to worry about hiding from the Grimslayers and his own ass.

He crouched low, shuffling his way closer to the gate as he watched the Grimslayers pull guns and flamethrowers from their trucks and rush towards the screams. More yells and gunfire could be heard now as well as the screech of Bugs and Beetles as they were riddled with bullets and rushed by fire. Thankfully, Emizel couldn’t see the fire from his hiding place; now was not the time to go running in fear.

‘Monster!’ cried out a Demon, running back into the camp. His arm was bleeding badly and there was a gash along the side of his face. ‘It’s a fucking monster!’

‘Shut that fucking gate!’ demanded Jeffery.

Emizel could hear the groan of chains straining against the weight of the gate as it was lowered. It was slow, way too slow. From where he crouched Emizel could see the heavy chain that held it. He shuffled forward, staying low and stretched his hand out in front of him. The crack of bone was faint against gunfire and screams as his skin hardened and fingers elongated to become sharp talons. One slash was all it took. The chain strained for barely a moment before the weak link snapped. He heard the loud crunch of metal and cries of distress as people hurried away.

Emizel snuck a peak at the gate.

A Grimslayer truck had only been halfway through when the gate came plummeting down, crunching the vehicle in half and preventing the gate from properly shutting. It left a good meter or more gap but wasn’t properly shut. Bugs could still get in.

‘Well fuck.’

A heavy thud hit the gate, the metal groaning against the weight of it. Punctures were being made as something huge slammed against it again and again. People were running, abandoning the gate as Bugs began to crawl their way through the gap. Just as Emizel was about to make his own run for it, a huge creature unlike any zombie Emizel had ever seen before clambered over the wall just above him. It was huge, at least eight feet tall and built like a muscular stick. Its long distorted limbs were razor sharp and jagged, much like a Beetle’s pincers only ten times worse and they stabbed into the wall as it pulled itself over and into the camp. Its jaw hung low and showed rows upon rows of shark like teeth and its eyes, like small black dots locked onto Jeffery and the Grimslayer who were still nearby.

‘What the fuck is that?!’

‘Abomination!’ cried out the Grimslayer, alerting the others of his group. He pulled a gun from his side and aimed it, only to have the creature lunge and swipe it away in an instant along with most of his arm.

The Grimslayer screamed in agony and dropped to his knees. His screams were cut off as the abomination lunged at him again, this time ripping off his head in vicious, bloody bites.

Emizel watched with wide eyes as Jeffery stumbled back and ran, yelling orders to anyone who could listen as they scrambled for safety or a weapon. The abomination was quick to scuttle after him once it had devoured the Grimslayer’s head, shrieking loudly as it did.

‘Get that gate sealed! Shoot anything not human! Light the fires! Now! Go! Go! Go!’ ordered Jeffery, reaching for his own gun.

The abomination tore through two other Grimslayers that put themselves between it and Jeffery, their bodies instantly torn into mangled bloody pieces. Jeffery kept running and Emizel quickly lost sight of him in the chaos.

‘We need Daybringer!’ he heard a Grimslayer cry, unloading a round of bullets into the abomination that seemed to do nothing but anger it. ‘Get that brute in here! Now!’

Another Grimslayer with a walkie-talkie went to make the call but all that came from his mouth was a gurgle of blood as his throat was pierced from behind. A Bug, its limbs malformed into something like that of a mantis, latched onto the Grimslayer and bit into his neck. Emizel watched as the man died choking on his own blood, his walkie-talkie tumbling to the ground and trampled upon by more Bugs as they swarmed his body.

‘Fuck… Fuck… Fuck!’ cursed Emizel, now abandoning his hiding spot and darting into the chaos.

He grabbed a fellow Demon who was scrambling away from two Bugs and threw her towards a building, yelling at her to hide. He didn’t check to make sure she made it, instead hurrying through the mass of bodies running or fighting against the horde that had made its way through the gate.

‘Emizel!’

Theo.

Emizel’s head snapped up and scanned the chaos for his friend. His voice was distant and faint but Emizel would be able to hear Theo anywhere. A Bug shrieked as it stumbled towards him and he ducked, hands still sharped into hard talons as he swiped at it, his concern elsewhere. The Bug fell to the ground, its head gone from its body.

‘Emizel!’

‘Theo!’

Emizel spun on the spot but still couldn’t see him, so he ran towards his voice, shoving past Grimslayers and pushing Demons away from Bugs as he went. An explosion from the front of the gate made him stop momentarily, looking towards the eruption of smoke and debris. This was going from bad to worse by the second.

He needed to find Theo.

The Grimslayers weren’t many in numbers and this abomination was ploughing through them like they were nothing. It tossed them to the side like rag-dolls, ripped through their armour like paper and discarded their torn up bodies like trash. Somehow, among its destruction, Demons remained unscathed by the abomination, its targets only being Grimslayers. It was smart; or at least it appeared to have a priority.

Emizel darted out of the crowd of chaos, avoiding bugs where he could as Demons made a run for it. If he followed the abominations trail of destruction, he could avoid the Grimslayers and find Theo. The creature barreled through the camp, knocking against buildings and tearing apart any obstruction in its way. It was going somewhere, like it had been summoned.

‘We got us a vamp!’ Emizel suddenly heard a Grimslayer to the left of him, one the abomination seemed to have missed.

He cursed to himself and tried to change directions but the Grimslayer was faster. Fire suddenly erupted in front of Emizel and he snarled, stumbling back. A primal fear began to rise within him, but a stronger part of him, a part of him that only cared about getting to Theo, pushed it back down. Bugs weren’t going to stop him; Grimslayers weren’t going to stop; and fire sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him.

The Grimslayer didn’t care where he aimed the flamethrower and quickly flames caught onto the nearby building, setting it ablaze. Emizel cursed. First these Grimslayers get into his camp, now they try to burn the damn place down. Pissed off, he crouched low and sprung forwards, leaping through the low flames and catching the Grimslayer off guard. The two of them tumbled across the ground, Emizel’s taloned hand stabbing through the visor of the Grimslayer’s helmet and cutting his life short.

He didn’t have time for this. He needed to find Theo.

‘Theo!’ he cried out, hands cupped to his mouth as he spun around in search of his friend.

That was when Emizel clocked them.

Vampires.

Eight of them.

At the rear of the chaos, maybe one hundred yards away, grabbing Demons, killing Grimslayers and it looked like they were commanding the abomination as it barreled towards them and the pick-up truck they were crowded by. Five of them looked like cowboys. The other three looked older, their clothes almost sophisticated and old school but still tarnished by the apocalypse. Really it didn’t matter what they looked like though. The fact that they were vampires here at all was enough to have Emizel questioning their presence. Why were they here, especially with these Grimslayers around? Where did they even come from? How the hell was this abomination listening to them? Why were they throwing Demons into the cage on the back of their pick up?

Worst of all, why the hell did it look like they were after Theo?

Theo was fighting off a Bug with the help of a Grimslayer, his spiked baseball bat splattering Bug guts across the ground. The Grimslayer tore through a limb of the Bug with a machete only to turn as the abomination charged over and pierced his chest. Theo stumbled back, baseball bat at the ready as the abomination ripped into its Grimslayer meal. The vampires were approaching; two cowboy looking vampires.

‘Stay back! Get the fuck back!’

Emizel could barely hear over the roar of the fire from the building beside him. It was going up quickly, the flames enveloping it; along with the huge “explosives” sign that was painted on the wall.

Oh… shit.

The explosion sent Emizel flying backwards and he tumbled across the ground, the gravel tearing at his skin. His face burned, his clothes were singed and his body filled with rage as his head snapped back to look at the vampires approaching Theo. Fuck the fire, he didn’t care about the fire, only Theo.

He pushed himself back up to his feet.

The explosion had sent burning debris across the camp and quickly more buildings were catching alight. Fire blocked his path to Theo and Emizel cursed as he tried to get closer, the heat and intensity of the flames pushing him back. He had to get to Theo. Fuck the fire.

Emizel ran forwards, into the flames, trying to find a way through, yet keeping his eyes trained on Theo even as the smoke burned them. The fire ate away at his clothes, seared his skin into blisters and boils and the pain that spread across his body as he stumbled through the fire was immense.

He was getting closer but not close enough and not quickly enough either. He did his best to keep his eyes trained on Theo through the smoke, who was doing his best to fight off the two vampires. Emizel could have sworn he was winning until one of the vampires moved so quickly it was nothing but a blur before appearing behind Theo.

Emizel tried to scream a warning but only choked on smoke and ash.

The vampire struck Theo hard with the butt of a shotgun and his head snapped back as he dropped to the ground instantly. The vampire grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him across the gravel towards the pick-up. Emizel wanted to scream as Theo’s limp body was thrown roughly into the cage attached to the pick-up. An anger boiled within him as he watched his friend be tossed around but he couldn’t move, his limbs had stopped listening to him. The fire was too much. It licked at his skin but he realised he’d stopped feeling its burn. Flames distorted his vision but all he could focus on was Theo, unconscious and limp, blood streaming down the side of his head. The world was out of focus.

The last thing he heard over the roar of the fire was the remaining vampires as they hurried to the pick-up that held Theo.

‘…get … back … Camp Crépuscule … quickly … Edward’s not … happy … this.’

Well… fuck… thought Emizel as the fire finally enveloped him.

Then everything went white.

.:*-~..~-*:.

Red.

Everything was red.

Emizel was floating on his back, staring up at nothing but a red expanse. His limbs felt heavy. Whatever he was floating in wasn’t water. It was thicker. Bloodier. He tried to move his arm but it wouldn’t listen. Wiggling a finger? That worked. A tingling sensation traveled up his arm and his managed to move his hand. Soon his could move his arm and the tingling sensation moved across the rest of his body as he shifted in this sea of blood.

Was he dead?

He didn’t feel dead. Then again he didn’t know what that actually felt like, so being dead was still on the table.

‘That was… cool,’ Emizel mumbled eventually. His mouth felt dry. His words sounded hollow in this expanse. ‘Fuck… Nice.’

It had certainly felt cool. Incredibly painful and horribly scarring, but still cool. He remembered the fire burning away at his flesh, exposing startling white bone; the searing pain that melted his body into nothing as he watched through flames. He had watched something happen - something that had made his blood boil more than the fire.

Theo.

Theo yelling for Emizel. Theo being thrown into a cage. Theo being chucked about like a rag-doll. Theo bleeding from a wound in his head.

All thoughts of how cool he’d felt left as quickly as they’d come. Emizel let out a scream of anger and rage and slashed at the sea of blood, splashing it wildly around him. Even with his thrashing, he didn’t sink. The blood didn’t pull him down, in fact it pushed him back up, forcing him to float on his back once he’d finished his lashing out.

‘Fucking seriously?’ he called out to the red void. ‘This it? No movie? No like, book with all my stats?’

Silence answered him and his flipped off the expanse above him.

His anger was back, boiling and bubbling inside him. How could have he avoided this? What could he have done differently? If he’d acted a little smarter and not run into fire could he have saved Theo? The questions in his mind only made him more angry and he kicked out, splashing blood about until he was angrily swimming through the red sea. If this was his eternity, then fuck it, he was finding a way out.

Time seemed to pass strangely in the bloody empty expanse and no matter how far Emizel tried to swim he seemed to go nowhere. He had no idea how long he swam, his body didn’t ache from tiredness and the rage that fueled him certainly wasn’t going anywhere.

‘Okay,’ he called out into the silence. ‘Bored of this now! Hello? Oie! Hello?!’

As he stopped his swimming, opting to float again on his back, a warm glow and yellow light began to appear above him.

‘What the fuck?’

He raised a bloody hand to cover his eyes as the glow increased in intensity. This was it. True death. This was that white light people always talked about at the end of the tunnel, only his tunnel had been a bloody void. His light was also yellow not white, and seemingly splitting into two.

Emizel lowered his hand slowly, and watched as two huge yellow cat eyes emerged from the red space above him. They glowed, the pupils contracting as they focused on him and before Emizel could properly question what he was witnessing, in his mind an echoing voice boomed:

‘Eight!’

.:*-~..~-*:.

Emizel’s eyes snapped open and he coughed harshly as he swallowed ash.

‘Fuck!’

He spat the ash from his mouth and wiped away the dribble of spit from his chin as he sat up with a groan. The red was gone now and instead smoke blurred his vision and stung his eyes. Around him was nothing but the smoldering debris of what was once a building, the fire had consumed it entirely. It had consumed Emizel too, yet somehow here he was once again.

Could he not die?

That’s what he assumed, anyway.

What did “eight” mean though? Eight more times he could come back? Eight hours had passed? Eight fingers he had left?

He held up his hands to check. Nope, ten fingers. He looked down at his toes. Ten of those too - and there, sitting by his feet, head tilted to the side sat a grey cat with yellow eyes, staring at him curiously amongst the rubble and ash.

‘What the- Pepper?’

Pepper was the camp cat. Or at least the cat that hung around camp and that no one could get rid of. For as long as he could remember, Pepper had always just been around; even before the whole apocalypse. It was strange, the way Pepper stared at him, big yellow eyes just… like…

‘Was… was that you, Pepper?’

Pepper’s ear twitched but aside from that gave no other kind of response.

Shaking his head and feeling stupid, Emizel stood, stumbling unsteadily on his feet in the rubble and ash.

‘This is some weird fucking vampire shit,’ Emizel mumbled to himself as he looked down at himself, naked and covered in soot.

He could remember how it felt - the fire melting his skin, burning away his flesh. It sent a weird tension through his body and he grimaced as he stood, stretching out his reformed limbs. His body was as good as new - well, almost. The few scars he had before dying were still there, forever embedded into his pale skin. A few stab wounds, scars from tumbles he’d taken while learning to parkour with Theo, and plenty of zombie bites that never went away yet never infected him either. There was a new scar too. A mangled burn scar that spread across his chest and torso and up his neck slightly.

‘This is some really fucking weird vampire shit…’

It was all something he could figure out later though.

The only thing he cared about right now was finding Theo.

And some clothes.

Clambering through the rubble, Pepper by his side, Emizel stumbled out into the center of what once was the Demon’s camp. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. There was blood and carnage and destruction everywhere. So much of the camp had been diminished to ashes. Another fire had broken out somewhere in the distance, Emizel could see the smoke. Bodies of fellow Demon’s, people that had once been his friends, lay limp like discarded broken dolls and remnants of Bugs torn to shreds were scattered through the streets of what was once his camp. The horde had left nothing alive in its wake.

Emizel’s jaw clenched so hard he feared he’d break a tooth.

Those other vampires and the Grimslayers had caused this. His home, his friends, all gone. The Grimslayers should never have been let into the camp and whoever had helped those vampires in were going to pay. They’d taken everything from him.

Theo.

Emizel knew if his heart was beating it would have skipped a beat. He needed to find Theo. The vampires had taken him; snatched him up and taken him away in a cage like an animal.

First he needed clothes.

By some miracle Theo’s little house was still standing, tucked away in its little corner of the camp. Though the windows had been smashed in, the door broken off its hinges, and when Emizel stepped into the small space, everything was in shambles. Someone or something had torn the place apart.

Emizel clenched his fists, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm, and dark blood trickled down his fingers.

He was going to tear those fuckers to shreds. He didn’t care if it were the vampires that had done this or the Grimslayers. They were all going to pay for this. He just had to find them first. As he scrounged around for some new clothes, Emizel shifted through what he remembered of those others vampires. Cowboys. A truck. Commanding those abominations somehow. And…

Camp Crépuscule.

The last thing he’d heard them say. That had to be where they’d come from. Unfortunately for Emizel, he had no idea where that even was. L.A was a big city and he had no idea how much time he had left before the sun rose. As he pulled a shirt over his head and shrugged on a jacket, Emizel looked to the door to see Pepper sitting there patiently, head tilted to the side as if to say: “better get a move on then”.

Chapter Text

Shilo had spent much of his life behind camp walls. He’d been kept safely tucked away in his room, with no one but his Uncle Lazarus for company and the occasional guard to talk to. His mother was busy with the running of the camp, organising trades and negotiations with other camps and making sure nothing horrible could enter their walls. Shilo had only ever been to a few camp meetings, but he’d been told to keep quite and simply observe. All that time, he had still been treated as a prince, even away from the castle and even with the apocalyptic way of the world. His mother insisted that regardless of what happened, he’d always be a prince.

He often missed his life back in the palace though. His missed all his books, his clothes, his coffin, the air, the view - in L.A he had a not so comfortable spring box to sleep on, a far smaller and less elegant wardrobe, and nowhere near the amount of books he’d had back in Romania. Almost every day he missed his view of the beautiful Romanian mountainside of rolling hills and tall pines. It had been switched to that of the towering walls of his mothers making. How often had he longed to go beyond the wall, to explore the city.

Now though, after running for his life, amongst the rubble and overgrowth that had once been the booming metropolis of L.A, he longed for the safety of his camp walls. Even more so, he longed for the palace.

Currently he stood in a small room with Grefgore and the mystery man who had helped them. They were within the walls of Camp Crépuscule now, but somehow even then, it didn’t feel safe to Shilo.

He hadn’t spoken much, this mystery man, only made a few grunts that might have been words and gave nods on which direction to go. The black cat perched on his shoulders would look at Shilo with what he guessed was curiosity but aside from that, didn’t do much else.

They had made their way to a entry point of this Camp Crépuscule; a side door, locked and guarded by more vampires. They’d been questioned heavily and searched for bite marks. Shilo had been completely cooperative through the entire process, as had Grefgore and the mystery man. So why were they still being made to wait?

The three of them had been lead to what felt like a holding cell. A small locked room with no windows within one of the buildings that boarded the camp. No one had spoken to them since, even with Shilo’s attempts to get attention.

‘This is taking so long,’ complained Shilo. ‘Why has no one come yet?’

‘My prince,’ said Grefgore beside him. His weapons had been taken, and he was fiddling with his armoured beanie in his hands. ‘I’m certain these are just normal safety procedures for this camp.’

Shilo huffed and glanced at the other man, sitting silently in the corner. His cat was curled in his lap as he pet her. He hadn’t said a word since they’d been escorted to this room.

‘I understand their need for safety but we are not a threat to them,’ insisted Shilo. ‘I want to talk to whoever is in charge.’

‘Well now, that might not be me, but pretty close,’ came a new voice with a deep Southern accent at the entrance of the room.

Shilo spun in surprise to see a vampire standing in the doorway. He looked like a cowboy from one of Shilo’s history books; the Stetson hat, the tasselled poncho draped over his shoulders and two bandoleers criss-crossing his chest. His clothes were rugged and splattered with dirt and what Shilo could only assume to be dried blood though he tried not to dwell on that thought too much. At his waist were belts that held a large machete and a pistol.

‘Are you… one of the guards?’ asked Shilo, eyes cast cautiously to the pistol.

‘In a sense,’ replied the man, flashing a sharp toothed smile. ‘And who are you, partner?’

‘I am Shilo. Nice to meet you.’

Shilo stood a little straighter as he spoke, and held out his hand. The vampire took a few steps forward and shook it. His grip was tight, but not unfriendly.

‘And this fella?’

‘This is Grefgore, he is my protector. My companion.’

‘Protector huh?’

Shilo nodded. Grefgore stood to attention behind him.

‘And you are?’ asked Shilo.

‘Sheriff Deacon Keller.’ He flicked the star badge attached haphazardly to his poncho. ‘I keep the peace around these parts.’

Relief rushed through Shilo. A sheriff. This was good, this was safe. He was certain he could trust a sheriff; they were good guys, like from his books.

‘So what’s your story then? How’d you end up here?’ asked Deacon. ‘And just before sunrise I might add. Cutting it awfully close there.’

‘We are from Umbre Camp. It… it was attacked. We had to flee.’

‘Attacked?’ Deacon frowned and looked down at Shilo. His nice clothes were scuffed, and ash smeared his face. He looked small and helpless, weak even. He wasn’t built for surviving outside a camp, Deacon could see that much. ‘By what? Zombies?’

‘By Grimslayers. They destroyed everything. My mother… they… they killed her.’

‘Your mother?’

‘The queen.’

Deacon’s eyebrow raised curiously as he looked Shilo up and down again.

‘You sayin’ you’re the prince?’

‘I am Prince Shilo Bathory, yes.’

Deacon was silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating this new information before eventually nodding his head slowly.

‘Umbre Camp then, that’s gone?’

Shilo nodded, trying to appear calm; though his emotions were easy to read on his face - he was very much upset. ‘Grefgore was told to bring me here if anything ever happened. So here we are… hoping to find help.’

‘Well, you certainly came to the right place. There’s nowhere safer than Camp Crépuscule.’

‘And you are in charge of this camp?’

‘No, no, that’s ain’t me. I’m just the sheriff. But I’m sure who is in charge will be wanting to speak with you.’ Deacon glanced at his watch and frowned. ‘Though, won’t have much time for it today. Sun’s already up. Shit’s hot.’

Shilo cast a nervous look at Grefgore who could only shrug in response. He sighed and turned back to Deacon.

‘Even just a quick meeting, if I could, I would appreciate that,’ pleaded Shilo. He tried to stare at Deacon, influence him the way he had used to back in camp Umbre, but found himself blinking rapidly in confusion.

Trying not to embarrass the boy, Deacon hid his knowing smile with a tilt of his hat. ‘Well now, I’ll see what I can do, but firstly-’ He looked towards the mystery man, who had remained silent for the entirety of Shilo and Deacon’s conversation. ‘Could I have the honour of knowing your name? Want to know if I’m dealing with a friendly face here,’ he paused and rested his hand on the butt of his pistol, ‘or otherwise.’

The man stayed quiet for a moment longer before standing, his cat climbing to perch once again on his shoulders. He moved to stand in front of Deacon, the two of them the same height, eyes locked in quiet apprehension.

‘Bennett. Arthur Bennett.’

‘Bennett, huh? Well Arthur, you from Umbre Camp too? What’s your story?’

‘I’m not here on any business, just looking for somewhere new. I happened upon the prince and his companion here after they were chased by zombies and helped them. We have no affiliation beyond that,’ said Arthur simply. ‘You’ll find I’m not one to cause trouble.’

Deacon regarded Arthur quietly for a moment, then eventually nodded.

‘Well, I hate to say it, but roomin’ here don’t come free. Everyone’s gotta contribute one way or another. At least here in this camp.’

Arthur raised an eyebrow, eyes cast to Shilo beside him from under his glasses. Deacon noticed and let out a soft chuckle.

‘Well now, you know, he’s a special case. He is the prince after all.’

Arthur didn’t seem to want to argue. Instead he simply sighed and nodded his head.

‘Very well. In what way am I expected to contribute?’

Deacon glanced at his watch once again.

‘Well look, as much as I’d love for that to be settled right now, it really is getting awfully late. How about we get you a room and get that all sorted in the night instead?’

‘That certainly sounds preferable.’

‘It surely does.’

Deacon moved to the door, opening it and called down the way. A moment later, two vampires were standing outside the door- one dressed like a cowboy like Deacon, the other in tactical gear. They waited silently on the other side of the door as Deacon turned back to the two - nope - three, before him.

‘Wait- What about him?’ Deacon nodded to Grefgore. He’d been so quiet and unmoving from Shilo’s side the entire time, Deacon had pretty much forgotten he was there. ‘What’s his deal again?’

‘Grefgore? Well, he is my companion. My friend. He has kept me safe.’ As Shilo spoke, he stepped in front of Grefgore, a determined look on his face. ‘He is to come with me.’

‘Well now, I don’t know about that.’

‘No,’ repeated Shilo, determination in his voice. ‘He is to come with me.’

Deacon paused for a moment, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Eventually he sighed and shook his head.

‘I’m sorry prince, but he can’t be coming with you. You’ll have all the protection you need, I promise. I’ll find somewhere for him to stay though.’

‘You promise?’

‘Pinky promise.’

With a hard look on his face, Shilo held out his pinky. Deacon stifled a chuckle and linked pinkies with Shilo. Seemingly satisfied, Shilo stepped away from Grefgore.

‘Thank you, my prince,’ said Grefgore with a relieved sigh.

‘Of course Grefgore, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.’ Shilo meant what he said. He trusted Grefgore with his life, especially after everything. He was still disappointed Grefgore couldn’t come with him, but at least he would remain within the camp.

‘Alright, alright,’ said Deacon, opening the door for Shilo and gesturing to the two other vampires. ‘You’ll go with them, I’ll take these two, and I’ll see you in the night, my prince.’

‘Thank you, Deacon.’

.:*-~..~-*:.

Shilo was lead by the two vampires through buildings with blacked out windows and bordered up doorways that kept the sun at bay. He tried to speak with the two that escorted him but was met with silence, so he kept his mouth shut instead. There was no sight of the outside, and Shilo wondered if it looked the same as the overgrown streets he had run through.

He was glad to be within walls again though; the zombies outside scared him. They were monstrous and aggressive and Shilo didn’t know how to deal with that. Being inside the camp was safe. Though he admitted to himself he would have felt safer to have Grefgore by his side still. Surely they could reunite at some point.

Eventually Shilo was bought to the foyer of a surprisingly fancy building. The windows were blocked out and doors guarded by a pair of ghouls. They swayed slightly, like they were unfocused or half-asleep. The foyer was startlingly clean compared to the other buildings Shilo had been lead through. The marble floor was shiny, the lights worked and to his delight, so did the elevator they entered.

When the elevator stopped on the highest floor, Shilo followed the escorting vampires out. There was only one door at the end of the hallway, a long red carpet leading towards it. One of the vampires entered a passcode held the door open for him; it seemed this is where they left him.

He nodded his thanks and entered, jumping slightly when the door slammed shut behind him.

The penthouse apartment beyond the door was grand and sophisticated and practically sparkled. It was spacious and lavishly decorated, even with the blacked out windows that were bordered by heavy red velvet curtains. Shilo looked around in wonder, curious as to how a place to grand could possibly still exist within the apocalypse. It was then he noticed the portraits of a man he had the misfortune of recognizing.

No.

It couldn’t be.

‘A little birdy told me I have a guest.’

Shilo spun in surprise at the voice and came face to face with Edward Twilight.

He had encountered him probably once or twice before at a camp meeting with his mother and even from those few chance encounters, Shilo found himself unsettled by Edward much like he did now. His skin was like glittery porcelain, and his face held the one self-satisfied expression no matter what he said. Even the way he moved, almost like he was gliding, felt unnatural even for a vampire.

‘Well, well, Prince Shilo,’ Edward said, stepping closer to eye the prince curiously. ‘What are you doing here, so, so, so far from home, bruh?’

The way Edward said Shilo’s name made his skin crawl. He did not like Edward Twilight. If he had known that he was the one who ran this camp, he would have demanded Grefgore take him somewhere else. Yet he was the prince, he had a title to uphold. So he would be civil - for now.

‘Edward… I did not expect to see you here,’ confessed Shilo. ‘I was not aware you were the leader of… this camp.’

Edward circled Shilo like a cat circling prey and chuckled. ‘Oh really? But then why else would I have had all those meetings with your mother, bruh?’

‘Because you are… one of the Primogen? Are you not?’

‘I can’t be both?

‘Ah, right, of course…’

‘I’ll ask again, maybe you didn’t hear me.’ Edward came to a stop and raised an eyebrow as he peered down at Shilo. ' What are you doing so, so, so… so far away from home, my little prince?’

‘My camp… Umbre Camp was attacked,’ Shilo said as calmly as he could, picking his words carefully. He needed Edward to understand the gravity of his situation, but a part of him - a part deep down - worried what telling this information to Edward could mean. ‘Grimslayers… they attacked and destroyed everything. They killed… so many. My… my mother is… gone.’

No look of surprise crossed Edward’s face; not even a twitch. Shilo swallowed nervously.

‘Grimslayers you say? And the queen is… dead?’ Edward paused for a moment, red eyes unblinking as he stared thoughtfully at Shilo. ‘Well that is just… terrible.’

His voice made his words sound disingenuous to Shilo but he kept that to himself.

‘How on earth did you escape such carnage, little prince?’

‘I had a guard… he helped me. He is the one who brought me here, like he’d been told to do.’

Edward nodded. ‘Just as he should. Well, you don’t need to worry about any of that anymore.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’re here. You’re safe, Shilo.’

Shilo didn’t feel safe.

‘You must be tired, Shilo.’

Shilo was tired. So tired. From the events that had happened at Umbre Camp, to being chased through the city, even waiting and waiting and waiting in that little room, Shilo was beyond exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to rest.

He nodded with the look of a kicked puppy.

‘I am. I am very tired, yes.’

‘Well then, right this way, little bird,’ said Edward as he placed a cold hand on Shilo’s shoulder, leading him further into the penthouse. ‘I have a spare room just for someone like you.’

‘Thank you, Primogen, for your… hospitality.’

Edward just smiled as he lead Shilo away.

.:*-~..~-*:.

Deacon had taken Arthur and Grefgore on a different path to Shilo; leading them away from the prince to another part of the camp. Their path avoided the sun, travelling through what Arthur could only assume to be basement levels until they travelled up and reached the foyer of what was once a hotel. The huge glass windows and doors had been barricaded and blocked out any sunlight.

The elevator didn’t work, so they took the stairs.

It took a short while, but eventually they reached the eighth floor. Some of the doors they passed along their way were boarded shut, nailed in place or even had a barricade of some kind against it. Arthur wanted to question it, but instead kept his mouth shut. He didn’t need to be asking too many questions; especially while Deacon was being so hospitable.

‘You can stay here, for now,’ said Deacon, opening a hotel room door. He gave a pointed look to Arthur as he handed him the keys. ‘Get some rest, and you and I will have a deeper discussion in the night.’

‘If you insist.’

‘Oh I insist, partner. Sleep well.’

With that, Deacon left them, tipping his hat as he did so.

Arthur entered the room, Grefgore a step behind him before he shut the door. It was once lavish, though certainly time had worn away at it. Like the rest of the building, the windows had been blacked out or boarded up in some way. There was a single large bed with one rather flat looking pillow and moth eaten sheets.

Arthur ignored the bed, instead opting for the closet. Beds were too vulnerable. He ignored Grefgore also, the closet door banging shut behind him before the guard could utter a single word to him. The door wouldn’t shut properly but Grefgore seemed to get the message and left him be. Arthur made himself comfortable upside down, and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, Void curling up in the jacket pocket he’d made for her.

Tomorrow he’d have that discussion with Deacon.

Chapter Text

It was dark.

Too dark to really see even as Theo blinked groggily.

He lay on his stomach, arms tied behind his back and his head throbbing terribly, every heartbeat was a like a thump against the dirt floor. He could remember what happened. The camp, the Bug horde attacking, a horrible monster tearing through everyone and him calling out for Emizel as vampires attacked.

Vampires.

There never should have been vampires in the camp. Only Emizel. Why had there been vampires? They’d taken him. Him and many others. They’d killed those Grimslayers too. Weren’t the Grimslayers there to protect against this kind of thing?

Theo groaned as he managed to roll onto his side.

‘Dudes, he’s awake,’ a voice in the darkness said.

Theo’s head jerked in the direction of the voice but he winced as pain shot through his temple like a hot iron.

‘Dude, Theo, take it easy,’ said the voice. ‘It’s me, it’s Johnny.’

Johnny.

One of the Demons. Theo sighed with relief as he shuffled around to get his legs under him and forced himself onto his knees. His head ached and his muscles were sore but at least he was alive. He blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to adjust.

‘Johnny? Man… what happened?’

In the darkness, Theo could see the fuzzy shapes of more people. More Demons. There were bars separating them all. He could hear shuffling slightly around him, the whispers of conversation that echoed in such a large chamber and the soft hum of machines from somewhere above them.

‘I don’t know man. Hell broke out. There were Bugs everywhere and this… this fucking monster, man.’ Johnny’s voice was shaking. ‘Then these vamps jumped me and some of the boys and next thing we know we’re being dumped in a cage and brought here.’

‘Did they get Emizel?’

‘I don’t know dude. We haven’t seen him.’

‘Fuck…’

Theo hadn’t even seen Emizel before he was captured. He’d called out for him desperately but never once saw him amongst the chaos. He had no idea where his best friend was or if he was even still alive. Well, as alive as he could be. This was Emizel though, and Emizel would be fine. He had to be.

‘Where are we?’ asked Theo, struggling against his bonds.

‘No idea,’ answered Johnny. ‘Come over here, we’ll untie you.’

Theo shuffled towards the sound of Johnny’s voice, leant against the cold iron bars and sighed with relief as he felt the rope around his wrists loosen then be discarded.

‘Thanks man. How long was I out?’

‘Hard to say. No windows down here, no one has a watch… But I’d guess maybe like twelve hours, give or take?’

Shit. No wonder his head hurt like crazy and his body felt so stiff. Twelve hours was way too long to be out for. The air was cold and musty and stale, as if no fresh air had gotten down there in a long time. Theo ran his hand through his hair, grunting when his fingers caught in the clumps of dried blood in the strands. The wound on his head didn’t seem too severe thankfully, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.

‘We thought you weren’t gonna wake up,’ said Johnny quietly, as if he was too scared to admit such a thought. ‘Could hardly tell if you were even breathing or not.’

Theo let out a heavy sigh.

‘Well, I’m up, and I’m breathing just fine.’ He stretched his legs out in front of him and winced as the muscles got used to being moved again. ‘I’m as good as I can be…’ He paused and glanced out into the shadows, listening carefully to the shuffling bodies. ‘How many of us are here?’

‘Don’t know. I think there’s more rooms… cells, like this. We passed lots of cages when they brought us in here. Other people, not just Demons. My guess is that they got most of us though, if not all of us who weren’t killed when those Bugs and monster attacked.’

So there was a chance Emizel was somewhere here. Maybe. Theo fiercely clung onto that thought like a lifeline. He needed Emizel to be okay. If they could find each other in this mess surely they could escape, fight their way out, something. He just needed to find him first. There was no way Theo was going to just sit back in a cage and wait for whatever horrors the other side of those bars held. He shuffled forward and squinted into the darkness, trying to form a better image of the space in his head.

‘Well, well, well, looks like we got us some demons in the pit.’

The taunting voice coming from the darkness made Theo freeze. He recognized that voice. There was no way…

A weak light from overhead flickered on and as Theo’s eyes adjusted they fell upon an all too familiar vampire standing smugly at the entrance of their cell block. Gabriel. The vampire that had turned Emizel. His sharp teeth glinted in the low light as he smirked wickedly at Theo. It was clear that Gabriel recognized him the instant their eyes met.

‘Soda boy,’ he sneered. Fresh blood was splattered down his white singlet and he looked almost sickly; dark veins far too prominent against his skin and dark bags under his eyes. There were stitches across his body too, like he’d been haphazardly pulled apart and badly put back together. He looked way worse than the last time Theo and Emizel had seen him.

The last time they’d crossed paths with Gabriel, Theo and Emizel had been on a scavenging run. It had been a close encounter; one that had earned Theo the soda nickname after he’d smashed a six pack over Gabriel’s head. It had been an unfortunate waste of soda for Theo, but it had helped them get out of there alive.

‘Gabe,’ mumbled Theo as the vampire approached, stopping in front of Theo’s cage to stare down at him.

‘It’s fucking Gabriel and you know it!’ he snapped. He looked beyond Theo at the otherwise empty cage he was trapped in. ‘Where’s your little buddy huh? Where the fuck is Emizel?’

‘None of your business, man.’

‘Oh I think it’s plenty my business, man. I sired that bastard! I get to kill him.’ Gabriel squatted down at the bars in front of Theo, smirking now that they were eye to eye. ‘Then I get to kill you.’

Theo didn’t even think. He just spat in Gabriel’s face. The vampire reeled back in disgust, stumbling over his own two feet and landed on his ass. There were muffled chuckles from the surrounding cages but they quickly stopped when Gabriel lunged back up at shocking speed, reached through the bars and grabbed Theo roughly by his neck. On instinct Theo clutched at Gabriel’s wrist, trying to fight back and break free. He was pulled harshly against the iron bars though, his head banging against them which sent a ringing through his brain.

‘You little fuck!’ growled Gabriel.

Theo grunted, squeezing his eyes shut to fight against the pain in his head. He could feel Gabriel’s nails digging sharply into his neck; his long fingers clenching tighter and tighter, sure to leave a nasty mark. Gabriel’s face was so close to his, the bars the only thing keeping them apart, that Theo could smell the blood on Gabriel’s singlet.

‘I should just kill you now!’

‘Like… to see… you… try,’ Theo managed to choke out, knowing full well Gabriel absolutely could right now without too much trouble at all.

Gabriel snarled, fangs exposed. Red eyes glared daggers into Theo. The other Demons in the surrounding cages had all shrunk back in fear as they watched on in horror at what was unfolding. Just as Theo thought this was it-

‘Gabriel!’

Gabriel’s head snapped up, looking over his shoulder when he heard his name be called as if he were a misbehaving dog. His grip on Theo loosened just enough for Theo to wrench himself away from the vampire and scramble away from arms reach. He sucked in mouthfuls of air, gasping to breath again.

‘What did we say about playing with the food?’

Between desperate gasps, Theo tried shift his position to see who was speaking but they were just out of sight, hidden by the shadows of the entryway. Gabriel ducked his head, looking at the ground. He had the demeanour of a kid who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

‘Not to…’

‘Exactly. Now get back here, my brother and I have more tests to run.’

Theo watched as the look on Gabriel’s face dropped. He practically shrunk away from this voice. Whatever these tests were, it looked as though Gabriel feared them.

‘Now, Gabriel.’

‘Right… Yeah, whatever, I’m coming.’ He shot a look back at Theo, his face back to that nasty, taunting sneer. ‘I’m not done with you. I’ll be back.’

‘Gabriel!’

‘Fuck! Okay!’

Theo watched him turn and leave in a hurry. The light that he’d switched on got flicked off again and Theo and the rest of the Demons were plunged back into unsettling darkness. The rest of the cells were quiet for a long moment until eventually Johnny whispered to Theo.

‘Hey… man, you good?’

‘Yeah…’ Theo’s throat hurt and his head was pounding, but he kept a brave face even if the Demons couldn’t see it in the dark. ‘Yeah… I’m good.’

‘You know that guy?’

‘Ah, yeah. Emizel and I crossed paths with him once or twice…’ admitted Theo. He wasn’t about to explain their true history. It was better no one knew about Emizel. ‘He’s an ass. All bark, no bite. It’s fine. I’m fine… really.’

His own words didn’t exactly sound convincing to him, but thankfully they seemed convincing enough to Johnny. The other boy mumbled something Theo didn’t quite catch and shuffled back to the far end of his cage.

Theo rubbed his neck, feeling the dull ache in his bones. That had been a close one. Too close for comfort. He stood, stretching out his limbs best he could once he had his breath back and began to pace his cell. It was still hard to see but he could feel the cinder-block walls at the back of his cage, the cold iron bars that trapped him and the rough dirt he’d woken up on. No chipped away block to break through. No loose iron bar. No secret tunnel to dig out of. He was truly trapped.

Theo patted down his pockets.

Empty.

They’d taken his weapons. Even the knife in his boot and the brass knuckles he kept tucked into the waistline of his pants. He missed his spiked baseball bat. Would have been nice to threaten Gabriel with that again. It’d have to wait for another time though; and Theo would make sure there’d be another time.

He was trapped, but no way he wasn’t going to die here.

The hushed conversations around him were dying out as Theo settled down against the cinder-block wall. The rest of the Demons were clearly too tired, too worn out for anything else. Theo’s mind was still racing though; the left over adrenaline from nearly being choked out fuelling his racing thoughts. Thinking of possible escape plans; of what he could do in this situation; most of all, of Emizel.

They’d find each other in all of this. Theo was certain of that.

Eventually the cell block ebbed into uneasy silence. Not a peep came from any of the Demons. Only the hum of machines above them could be faintly heard and Theo’s own thumping heartbeat in his ears.

In that silence, a haunting thought had snuck its way into Theo’s racing mind. That voice that had called to Gabriel… That other voice had referred to them as: “food”.

Not good.

Not fucking good at all.

Chapter Text

Emizel cursed himself as he ran.

He’d made a stupid mistake. One that very well may cost him his unlife. Or another life? He still wasn’t too sure how that all worked. A problem for a different time though, because his current problem was steadily gaining on him.

Maybe he’d been a little too careless making his way through the city, but in all fairness his mind had been elsewhere. All he could think about was Theo. He was sure Theo could handle himself, wherever he was. Regardless, he still worried. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself without his best friend; the one person he cared about more in this world beside himself.

His current worry though, was the two Cicadas that had managed to stalk him until it was too late for him to do anything about it. He’d been too stupidly wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice, and by the time he had, they were already cornering him, their droning buzz filling his ears. Cicadas were fast and stealthy. Emizel was too, obviously, but he’d lost the upper hand in this situation.

The loud noise of the Cicadas and Emizel’s frantic running was drawing more Bugs in too. They were swarming out of buildings and dragging themselves up from sewer systems as Emizel ran through the abandoned streets of LA. The buzzing all around him was driving Emizel crazy but there was no way he could take on a horde like this. If it had been just the one Cicada he might have had a decent chance. Two was pushing it. Yet now an entire horde of Bugs chasing after him was downright suicide and he didn’t have time for that.

Emizel’s shoes crunched against the loose pavement as he darted into an alleyway, narrowly avoiding a swipe from a Bug as it lunged at him.

‘Motherfucker-’ cursed Emizel, finding his way down the alleyway blocked by the broken apart side of a building. ‘Shit!’

He glanced back over his shoulder, the pursuing horde spilling into the alleyway hot on his heels. He’d lost track of the Cicadas but surely they were still hunting him; they certinaly didn’t give up on prey that easily. Huge chunks of broken concrete, destroyed foundations and mangled wire blocked most of the alleyway, but it had left an opening into the building, at least three storeys up. Emizel scrambled frantically up the rubble, the horde behind him advancing on him quickly.

Bugs were quick. Stupid and slow and stumbling around most of the time, but in a chase they were scarily fast. As Emizel scurried up the rubble, the Bugs behind him slammed themselves into the concrete with sickening crunches before trying to follow him up. They snarled and clicked and scrambled over one another to try and get at him. Some managed to claw their way up a ways before falling back down into the horde. They weren’t having much success in following Emizel up the debris and he laughed.

‘Hah! Idiots!’ he shouted down at them, kicking a bug in the head as it got just a little too close and sent it tumbling back down.

It was then he heard the droning buzz just to his left.

Cicada.

From the rubble where it had laid hidden, the Cicada launched itself at Emizel. Its deformed skeletal arms now like razor sharp pincers stabbed into the spot where Emizel once was as it snarled up at him. He’d managed to be quicker, jumping up just in time. The Cicada’s face was mangled and two grotesque mandibles grew from its mouth. The chittering noise it made growing louder as its prey escaped its grasp.

‘Nice try, stupid!’ laughed Emizel as he scrambled further up the rubble, kicking loose concrete down onto the Cicada.

The Cicada chittered, spines on its back raising as it crouched to leap.

‘Oh shit-’ Emizel jumped, grabbing an iron rod protruding from a broken slab of concrete to haul himself up but the Cicada was faster.

It leapt. The concrete and debris below it breaking under its force and tubbled down to the Bugs below, crushing some of them. Emizel tried to swing out of its path, but the Cicada latched itself onto Emizel’s leg, its mandibles clenching down hard on his flesh.

Emizel screamed and flailed wildly, his grip slipping.

The Cicada bit down harder; hanging off Emizel’s leg like a lifeline while its other limbs scrambled uselessly in the air.

‘Fuck!’ Emizel yelled as his free foot connected with the hardened skull of the Cicada. ‘Get off me!’

The Cicada was relentless, its grotesque mandibles clenching down harder on Emizel’s trapped leg. He flailed again, his grip on the iron rod failing and he fell, the Cicada still attached to him. Luckily they didn’t fall far or back down to the death pit of Bugs below. The Cicada adjusted its bite to make an effort at beginning to dismember Emizel as he lay stunned on his stomach. Barely he managed to roll out of the way of its pincer, but the Cicada’s bite stayed firm. He rolled, kicking at the Cicada’s head with his free foot. Crack. He kicked again. Crack. He kicked again, harder this time.

‘Fucking!’ Kick. ‘Let!’ Kick. ‘Go!’ Kick.

With the final kick, the Cicada released its grip, its head snapping backwards as it tore flesh from Emizel’s leg. Emizel lunged forward, a hand sharpened to talons and he stabbed through the Cicada’s gaping maw; the tips of his sharp fingers protruding out the back of its head. Blood and gunk spluttered onto Emizel as the Cicada gurgled on its death but he didn’t care. As long as it just stopped biting him.

He kicked the now unmoving corpse off him, down into the horde below and rolled to the side.

That was one Cicada down, but there was still chittering all around him. The drone of the scrambling Bugs below him growing in number, and the buzz of the remaining Cicada was impossible to pin point.

He needed to move.

His leg hurt like a bitch, but he needed to move.

The gaping hole into the building was just above him. Hell, it was within arms reach. He just had to bite through the pain and get there before the Bugs got to him.

With a wince, he managed to drag himself to his feet. Hands still sharpened talons, he clawed the rest of his way up, dragging his body through the gaping hole of the building and flopped onto the floor inside.

‘Ugh… Fuck my fucking gay ass stupid life…’

Exhausted and still not safe, Emizel pushed himself up, keeping his weight on his good leg and shuffled further into the building. It was dark inside. Probably the perfect place for more Bugs to be lurking around in, though if the commotion Emizel caused hadn’t already drawn them out, then it was safer than outside. That remaining Cicada though was his biggest threat right now. Surely it was here hiding in the shadows.

Staying low, Emizel slowly shuffled his way deeper inside. It had once been on office building. Cubicles now covered in dust and cobwebs were his only cover. Surely that last Cicada was still stalking him. They were annoyingly smart for a corpse. Luckily not smart enough though, because a rancid stench hit Emizel’s nose as he crouched behind an overturned cubicle and his ears pricked up at the faint sound of dragging footsteps approaching from the other side.

Emizel quietly picked up a dust covered pen from the ground and tossed it across the room. It clattered against the wall and he watched as the Cicada leapt at it, bashing against the wall blindly. Emizel pounced, hands sharp talons that he stabbed into the unarmoured sides of the Cicada. It let out a screech and flailed, trying to fling off Emizel off its back.

Gritting against the pain in his leg and the flailing of the Cicada, Emizel dug his talons in deeper. The Cicada spun wildly, slamming itself and Emizel against the wall. Still, Emizel clung on tightly. His talons tore at the fleshy parts of the Cicada, ripping apart its decaying insides; blackened blood splattering across Emizel.

‘Just… fucking die!’ grunted Emizel, his stabs at the Cicada becoming frenzied.

In his frenzy he grabbed the Cicada’s head, wanked it back and bit deep into its neck. His sharp teeth severed disgusting muscle and tendon and bone and a growl came from deep within his throat as he tore at the Cicada. It stuttered and he clawed himself away, stumbled back on his unsteady feet.

He spat out the chuck of rotten flesh and bone from his mouth. Bugs tasted absolutely fucking disgusting and all he could smell now was rotten flesh; the horrid black blood smeared across his face, hands and shirt.

The Cicada, its head hanging on by barely a thread of muscle, spun and stumbled towards him. It tried to make a swipe at him but missed. Its body was out of its control now and Emizel watched as it tried to move towards him, only to trip and tumble to the ground. The mandibles kept moving, trying desperately to bite onto anything as its body twitched uselessly.

‘Fuck you.’ Emizel kicked the Cicada’s head, and the flesh tore as the head skirted across the ground.

He’d kicked with his bitten leg though and as pain surged up his side, he stumbled and fell back, landing flat on his back. For a moment he just lay there, tired and angry with all he’d had to deal with. The pain from his leg was getting worse though and he gritted his teeth as searing pain racked his body.

Right… bug bite.

Just fantastic.

Just what he needed right now.

At least he knew he couldn’t be infected, that was the only good thing. The thing though that sucked the most, the thing that he hated about Bug bites, was that his body still had to fight off the infection. He was about to be in for a shit couple of hours. He needed to find somewhere to hide, to ride out his oncoming agony and maybe even avoid the sun depending on how long it took. There was no way around it.

Emizel dragged himself up, muttering curses to himself as he limped further into the building. The buzz and drone was fading far behind him now. There was no way the building was absolutely clear of bugs, but at least where he was now seemed to be relatively safe. Safe enough to lock himself in some abandoned room and wait out his infection.

His consciousness was already blurring.

Someway or another he’d managed to stumble into an old storage room with dust covered shelves and sheets hanging from the ceiling like ghosts. Emizel managed to shove a shelf down against the door before he dragged himself to a far away corner of the room. Not the biggest storage room, but there were no windows, one exit and no sign of more bugs. Perfect for what he was about to endure.

Emizel slumped against the concrete wall, sliding down it as his legs finally gave out. He could feel his body shivering though he didn’t feel cold or warm. His head ached like it was being steadily crushed and a sharp pain stabbed the back of his eyes.

‘This is going to fucking suck…’ he grunted to himself, then promptly passed out.

.:*-~..~-*:.

Emizel’s body did its thing to fight off the infection.

If his heart worked, he knew it’d be racing or just simply given out by now. He’d be covered in sweat by how much his body thrashed about in this state. If he had to breath, he knew he’d be panting and gasping for air, desperate to fill his lungs. Instead his body just seized, sending shocks of pain through his limbs as his muscles tensed and spasmed against his will.

His hands were still sharp talons and with them, he’d torn apart his surroundings. Deep claw marks littered the concrete floor and the walls surrounding him. Shelves were broken and destroyed and the sheets that had hung from the ceiling were in tatters.

Emizel dipped in and out of consciousness. Sometimes anger and pain sent him into fits of lashing out and other times he just lay there on the ground, writhing in twisted agony as his body fought against the Bug bite.

Either way, it sucked.

.:*-~..~-*:.

Finally, after what felt like forever but in reality had only been less than a couple hours, the fever and seizures faded and Emizel’s head no longer felt like it’d been run through by a metal pole. He winced as he sat up. The bite mark on his leg no longer bled, the mangled wound closed up and healed to a fresh jagged scar. His pant leg had been torn off at the knee and he was covered in dark dried blood. With no fabric to hide the scar, Emizel found a shred of cloth and tied it around his leg in attempt to hide it. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do for now.

His first few steps ached, but he ignored it. The pain was the least of his worries now anyway. He still had to find Theo. Getting bit was a set back for sure, but as Emizel emerged from the storage room he’d dragged himself into he was filled with a burning determination to find his best friend.

‘Meow.’

Emizel looked down in surprise.

‘Pepper?’

The grey cat tilted its head to the side, yellow eyes staring widely at Emizel.

‘Ugh, man, you don’t know where this camp is do you?’ Emizel questioned. ‘That’d be really fucking helpful right now.’

To his surprise, Pepper stood, tail flicking back and forth, and wandered to a broken window. Emizel followed, sticking his head out to get a better view. There he saw it; a huge wall the stretched across the main road between two buildings just a few blocks away. Old cars, buses, chain-link fences, dumpsters all piled high to block entry; and from the top of this wall hung a crudely painted vampiric symbol.

That had to be it. Emizel had never really ventured into this part of the city since it was mostly surrounded by Fang territory, so there was never much need.

‘Oh shit. Damn, thanks Pepper.’

Emizel pet the cat, receiving a contented purr for his affection.

He decided on avoiding the way he’d entered into the building. Surely there would still be Bug’s lingering there and he didn’t have time to waste on another Bug bite. Instead, he slipped out the window Pepper had led him to, taloned hands digging into the foundation of the building as he made his way down as quietly as possible.

This time he’d be sneaky. He had to be. No way he was going to run towards this camp with another horde chasing his ass. So he kept low, quickly darting behind abandoned cars and debris that littered the streets, keeping a careful eye out for any wandering Bugs. As he got closer to the wall, he spied movement above and ducked behind an overturned dumpster.

A lone vampire wandered across the top of the wall, a sniper rifle slung over his back. Hovering by the vampire was some kind of bat creature. At least it looked somewhat like a bat. Its wings were definitely bat like, but its body was wrong and deformed and far too fleshy. It’s only when it flew slightly closer that Emizel noticed the numerous eyes attached to its gross body. Emizel ducked, waited a beat, then snuck another look. The vampire and the strange eye bat thing had continued further along the wall, away from Emizel and out of sight.

Emizel darted from the shadows, and hurried along the length of the wall, following it around, passing by bordered up building entrances and blocked off alleyways. No way he was going through the front gate. He needed to slip over this wall, and he needed to do it quickly. A part of him knew that the strange bat eye creature was bad news and he couldn’t risk lingering in case it spotted him.

As he ran along, he spied an overhanging ladder from a fire escape. The wall was somewhat lower here, as if this part of the wall had been forgotten about when it came to reinforcement. An easy entryway for Emizel. With his hands still sharpened talons, he jumped, clinging to the concrete foundation of the wall then kicked off and flung himself towards the last rung of the ladder. As he caught onto the rung, the ladder creaked loudly with his weight and bent, throwing his swing off balance.

His body slammed against the side of the wall, part of a chain-link fence dislodging and clattering to the ground below.

‘Fuck…’

Emizel grunted and hurriedly hauled himself up the ladder and over the wall. He scurried onto the fire escape, pressing his back against the wall and stayed low. He hoped the noise hadn’t been too loud to call unwanted attention to himself. For a moment he stayed there, unmoving, waiting for anything to be drawn to him. When nothing came, he pushed himself up and leant over the railing of the fire escape, peering towards the streets of this camp.

He’d made it in. Now he had to find Theo.

First thing he noticed though, this place had electricity. Street lights were actually wired up to one another and flooded light onto the empty roads. Well, empty aside from a single small figure walking towards the alleyway where Emizel hid.

He crouched back down, watching this figure cautiously as they approached. The closer they got, the more Emizel could see. It was boy; blonde, small and skinny, in a green sweater and dress pants. What the hell was he doing dressed up so formally for? He stopped at the edge of the alleyway where the light no longer penetrated and gazed in. If he just looked up a little more, he’d probably spot Emizel, squatting on the fire escape.

With the boy now so much closer, that’s when Emizel noticed his ears.

Pointed.

A vampire.

This boy was muttering something to himself, looking wide eyed down the dark alleyway. Emizel couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he didn’t look like a guard or armed in any way.

‘Hello?’ called out the boy, louder now so that Emizel could hear him clearly. He had an accent. ‘Is someone there?’

This vampire boy looked like he’d hardly be a threat. Surely Emizel could get some information out of him. So, swinging his legs over the rail, he jumped down from his hiding spot, landing with a heavy thud on top a dumpster that made the other vampire boy yelp in surprise. Emizel crouched there, eyes locked with the blonde in the low light.

He looked so startled by Emizel’s sudden appearance, red eyes wide and hands clenched to his sweater like his heart was racing. Emizel had a vague thought about how he must look; torn clothes, covered in black Bug blood and incredibly dishevelled. Perfect for scaring the shit out of someone.

Emizel, still crouched, bared his fangs at the vampire boy.

‘Who the fuck are you?’

‘Oh, I’m… I am… Shilo… Who are you?’