Chapter Text
Man, did he fuck up.
Jamison Fawkes was the human embodiment of a fuck up, if he had to be honest. A “good for nothing” punk that only got into trouble. Deep down he knew that one day he would die because one of his fuck ups. He was pretty sure of this. However, this? This was something he could have never imagined in his entire goddamn life.
It all started with a small thing, too. Jamison owed people some money, but it seemed like lately he owed everybody money. The first fuck up was deciding it was a good idea to go to the bar.
It was past midnight and he made his way in easily. People stared at him but with his height and lack of an arm he was used to the stares. It was normal, at this point. They all went back to their own business after some seconds as he made his way towards the bartender.
“Hey,” He smiled at the bartender. The man just stared at him without saying a thing. The man looked rugged and tired, not interested in making any kind of conversation.
Jamison dug through his pockets, getting his small, old, and shitty wallet out of his back pocket. He fished out some money off it, placing it on the counter.
“Give me a beer, eh?” He instructed. The Bartender pocketed the money, and went to give him a normal beer. Jamison could have bought something far more expensive and tastier, he definitely had the money on his person. However there was something nostalgic about the shitty burnt taste of the cheap beer.
He took a big gulp out of his beer. It burnt his throat, but it was a pleasant feeling. He sighed as he placed the beer on the counter.
The bar was half full, people conversing amongst each other not paying attention to Jamison. He sighed, liking the buzz around him.
After Jamison finished his beer he placed another bill on the counter, asking for another one. The minutes passed pleasantly and Jamison was pretty content as he drank his beer in silence.
“Hey, hey,” he heard some voices but ignored them. The bar was more full than before, so he figured it was just people talking. “Hey, look, look-”
This caught his attention, he turned his head to see two men pointing at him from the other side of the bar. Their faces were red in anger.
Oh. Fuck.
Jamison absolutely recognized them. He owed them some big (BIG) money. His heart sank to his stomach as he realized they had spotted him.
In one swing he drank the rest of the shitty bear as he got up, putting the bottle back in the counter as he bolted out of the place. They were already tailing behind him, but the men had to dodge people and make their way through the crowd. That gave Jamison time before he could quickly slip out of the bar and into the cool night.
He ran as much as his skinny legs let him. He was slightly buzzed, which didn’t help at all and he had to be now more careful of not falling into his face. Few seconds after he got out of the bar he heard the men already yelling at him, following close.
Jamison took a big gulp of air as he sped up, going through the alleys of the city. They followed close, forcing Jamison to try to do one of his tricks.
He jumped, landing on top of a dumpster and jumped again to grab at an fire ladder. It was difficult with the alcohol in his system but he managed to grab into it, climbing but he was too buzzed to be able to climb it in time. It didn’t help that he was missing one arm.
As he attempted to climb one of the men jumped and grabbed at him, hand wrapping around his ankle and pulling him down harshly.
Man. He had really bad alcohol tolerance.
He thought he would crash directly into the floor, but the men grabbed at him immediately and pushed him against the wall of the alley. The back of his head crashed against the brick wall, making Jamison see colors. His vision took a while to adjust, but when it he saw the men grabbing at him, anger articulate.
“Fawkes!” The one on the right screamed at him. “You little pest, you owe us money you piece of shit!”
“Where is our fucking money?!” Yelled the one on the left. He was the one holding Jamison. He was about as tall as him, and both brothers were pretty ripped, compared to Jamison thinness.
“Fellas, fellas! I’m getting yer money- I promise! Ya think I would fuck with you, Jackson?”
“My name is Robert!” Oh, oops. “You owe Jackson money too?! Pay us first! I will beat your face off if you don’t give me the money right now!”
“N- you know Jackson? I mean- of course not! I don’t! I just- I need some more time guys! I-I can get ye yer money! No need to get wild!”
“I saw him buy beer earlier,” The one on the right said. “He has his fucking wallet, you think he has anything in there?”
“Let’s find out!” Suddenly one hand shoved into his pants pocket, and Jamison squirmed away but was pinned against the wall.
“He-hey! Watch out the merchandise! Fuck off!”
The man retrieved the wallet, and gave it to his brother which opened it and pocketed the various bills he had in there. “Isn’t enough, Fawkes! You still owe us a lot of money!”
“Let’s teach this little vermin he should never cross us.”
They both smiled wide and like little shits. “Yeah, lets.”
The first thing he felt was the fist on his stomach. It punched the air out of him, leaving Jamison gasping like a fish. He dropped to his knees, trying to suck air but a wrist wrapped around his shirt and lifted him up, one fist connecting to his nose. Pain spread to his entire face, and Jamison attempted to cover his face with his one hand but it was useless. Another fit connected to his eye.
Well, this night so far sucks. But it wasn’t the first time he has been beaten up, and surely it would not be the last.
His head buzzed and hurt, he opened his eyes and everything was blurry, swirling around in his vision. Voices sounded far away and Jamison couldn’t make out what was happening.
He saw something dark and big land behind the men, gigantic and dangerous. They dropped him and Jamison saw how the figure used their giant fists to start attacking his assaulters. Jamison leaned back on the brick wall, head pounding in pain.
The silhouette attacked and slammed the men, but Jamison couldn’t focus his eyes just yet. He only saw the figure knock them out and bend over them. He probably was screaming in their faces, he figured. He didn’t care. Things weren’t making sense for a moment.
He took deep breaths, closing his eyes as everything returned back to normal. He felt the hot blood dripping from his nose, and he cradled it. All things considered, it could have gone worse. They didn’t break his bones, so that’s a plus. He could nurse a black eye and a little nosebleed, no big deal.
He opened his eyes to see the dark figure who had helped him, staring down at the unconscious men. Oh, right. He had saved him.
The man was huge. He was taller than Jamison and man was he big. He was very fat, almost cartoonishly so, but Jamison could see the muscles bulging out of his shirt. His arms were gigantic, long dark hair covering most of his face.
“Uh,” The man turned around to face Jamison. For a second he could have sworn his eyes were glowing red, but it was probably Jamison still being dizzy after the beat down. “Hey.”
The man stared down at Jamison. Jamison sighed and wiped the blood off his nose, staring at his bloody palm.
“They really did a number on me, huh? Busted me up pretty good…” He had worse, but still, a beatdown was a beatdown. “Thanks for, uh… savin’ me…”
He looked up at him and then he saw it. The man face was covered in blood, drops of it dripping off his chin. His shirt was also covered in it, it was a lot of blood.
“Fuck, ya got blood all over you,” Jamison said, but then realized that the man didn’t seem to be much hurt. His stomach started going cold. “Is that yours? Are you ok-”
A big meaty hand grabbed him by the shirt, the blood soaked hand smearing it all over Jamison’s shitty tshirt. He dragged him up, having Jamison be face to face with him.
Now he had a very good view of his face. The man had a round, plump face. His eyes were absolutely glowing red. He had a piercing on his septum, and on his lips. Both were drenched in blood.
His most prominent feature (Apart from his glowing eyes) were his plump, thick lips, and the two huge fangs poking out of them. He hissed, opening his mouth and showing his sharp fangs.
“W-what are you?!” Jamison almost screamed.
“Hungry”
His name was Jamison Fawkes. And he was going to die.
To be fair, who the fuck could have seen that coming? How was he supposed to know that the man that saved him was actually a vampire? It wasn’t his fault. He shouldn’t have left his stupid apartment, he should have stayed home and jerked off like he normally does, but no, he decided to go to the goddamn bar and now he was going to die.
Jamison would have screamed. It was his first instinct, but it all happened too fast. Before he could even say anything the Vampire opened his mouth and closed it at the side of Jamison’s throat. He felt the huge fangs pierce at his skin, and Jamison’s eyes rolled on the back of his head as he went limp. He closed his eyes, huge arms grabbing him so he wouldn’t slip and fall to the floor.
He still was aware, feeling being jostled so he was cradled by the man. He sat on the floor and put Jamison on his lap as he brought him closer to his face. Jamison’s head lolled back and his limbs hanged limp by his sides as the vampire started to suck.
He felt the pain overwhelm him in a way he had never experienced. It stung, like bullets on his neck, hot and sensitive. He breathed deep as he felt those thick lips wrap around his neck. The man drank his blood, draining him of his life. Jamison’s mind went blind as he felt blood spill from his neck and into his side.
Jamison would have guessed he would have fought it, that he would claw his way out of the monster arms and he would attempt to at least fight, but he felt himself being numbed, only feeling his body tickle as the blood was sucked out of him. His body had simply gone limp, soft like jelly as the man manhandled him and fed off him. Soft whimpers came out of Jamison’s throat, as the bigger man groaned and moaned at the taste of his blood.
It almost felt relaxing, in a way. Maybe vampires had some kind of sedative in their saliva, to pretend their prey from escaping. Who knew. But something about it made him pliant and willing, neck bared. His chest hitched at the way the monster fingers grabbed at him tight.
He was going going to die.
Jamison didn’t know how much time passed until the Vampire stopped. He took his fangs out of Jamison, and it felt like an injection. It burnt slightly, but his thick tongue pressed against the holes. He softly placed Jamison on the ground, and even so the young man still couldn’t move an inch. He couldn’t even talk, just barely able to open his eyes. His vision was blurred once more, but he saw the figure stare down at him, lick his lips and then leave, just like that.
Exhaustion overcame him, and before he realized it Jamison passed out.
He woke up, feeling sore all over. It was still the middle of the night, and by grabbing at his shitty phone Jamison peeked at the screen. The sudden light hurt his eyes, and he squinted to see what time it was.
Four A.M. in the morning.
Jamison sighed and stood up. His face was covered in dried blood from his nose and his eye still hurt. But most importantly, his neck.
At first Jamison wanted to believe that the vision of the Vampire sucking his blood had been just an hallucination. But when he set his phone camera to selfie mode, he inspected the side of his throat.
Two circle shaped wounds were on his neck, pink and sensitive. Dried blood decorated it. He switched his camera off and used the light of his cellphone to iluminate what was on the floor in front of him.
The two men that had chased him were splayed on the floor, unconscious?
Jamison got closer. Their eyes were open and glassy, mouths open as well and their skin was pale. Jamison gulped as he got the cellphone close to the neck of one of them, centimeters away from the body.
Bite marks.
So it hadn’t been an hallucination, after all.
Jamison quickly got up, covering his mouth with his hand. A vampire had come and killed them, but not him. Why?
Maybe he was a vampire now.
Panicked, Jamison wished he had a mirror. But he heard vampires can’t see themselves in photographs either, right? He grabbed his phone, and activate the camera again.
He could see himself perfectly on the screen, so he wasn’t a vampire. He felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders, but there was still the fact a fucking vampire had sucked on his blood.
...And yet he survived. Maybe the vampire thought he had died. Honestly, he wasn’t going to question why a goddamn cryptid decided to not suck him dry.
Bringing himself back to reality he realized he was covered in blood, in an alley with two very dead bodies. He needed to get out of there before anybody noticed.
He was about to bolt, when he stopped on his tracks and returned. He dug through the pockets of one of the corpses, getting his wallet and pocketing it back. He kicked the body on the ribs hard with his foot, just for good measure.
Then, he bolted.