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one-boring-person · 4 years

Text

Show's Over.

The Lost Boys x VampireHunter!reader

Warnings: blood imagery, (minor) character death,

Context: This is the third part of the vampire hunter arc, I guess. It takes place a long time prior to the events in the first two (which i will link below this) so the relationship between the reader and the boys is not a particularly friendly one. In basic terms, the reader is chasing off a pair of vampire hunters, which the boys decide to confront (?) her about.

A/N: so I sort of figured out, too late, that this isn't particularly focused on the boys, but it kind of helps with some character development I guess? I hope it's acceptable😅

You Tell Us , Distraction

"Typical." I curse under my breath as I catch sight of my target walking down the street to my left, followed closely by an annoyingly familiar figure with a mess of blonde curls on his head, his confident demeanor a clear indicator of who he is. For hours now I've been waiting in the cold, damp space for her to finally walk past, ready to follow her to her comrade, the two of them having been a little hard to catch at first, despite their inexperience, and there's no way I'm letting some dumb idiot ruin the plan. Clenching my jaw, I move to the other side of the alleyway I'm in, pressing my back against the cold wall behind me, taking a fake cigarette out of my pocket and pretending to light it as the scantily clad woman steps past the entrance, my appearance going completely unnoticed. Seconds later, her pursuer trails after her, thumb between his teeth as usual, eyes focused on the target, so much so that he doesn't notice me step out behind him until my hand is wrapped around his mouth, my other arm looped around his waist. In his surprise, he allows me to pull him into the alley before starting to fight, his superior strength quickly getting the better of me, his hand swiftly clasping my throat and pushing me back against the wall, anger blazing in his expression.

"You? What the hell?" He hisses into my face, eyes flashing dangerously as I stand there, staring him down with disgust and irritation.

"You should check your victims before you advance on them, Blondie. She's not quite your type, being a hunter and all." I respond, pushing him off of me as his grip relaxes, surprise briefly flicking across his face. I don't give him time to respond, ducking out of the alleyway swiftly and starting up the street, my hands in my pocket as I try to look as casual as possible, knowing the woman from before went the same direction. For the moment, she's completely disappeared, but I'm well aware that she does not work alone, and they've used this tactic before, though I never found a body in the spot where they committed the deed, which puzzled me greatly at the time. Until I worked it out.

A few seconds later, I emerge out onto a large parking lot, the open space barely lit by three streetlights, revealing a beaten green truck with a tall figure leaning against it, a frown creasing his heavy brow as he spots me, clearly expecting to see someone else. I act as indifferent as possible, knowing exactly where his accomplice is due to their carelessness, quickly locating her the second I step into the light, though I don't give this away immediately. Instead, I take my hands from my pockets and greet the guy by the truck.

"Good evening." My voice is polite even if my face remains expressionless.

"Who are you?" He demands, pushing off the vehicle, muscles tense, demeanor unsure.

"A friend, unless you do something to change that." I inform him, lifting one of the sides of my jacket to show the stake tied into place there, though I keep my more lethal weapon hidden from him.

"You're a hunter too?" He sounds surprised, as if my appearance doesn't lead him to believe me.

"Yep. Santa Carla is my hunting ground." I confirm, gesturing vaguely to the surrounding area, lifting my eyebrow at him when he narrows his eyes. Behind the tuck, I notice there is a darkened shop window, in which I spot the reflection of a faint flicker of movement with no apparent body, confirming to me that she is, in fact, a vampire.

"Your hunting ground? I didn't realise you claimed it." The hunter comments without acknowledging his little friend, eyes flicking almost imperceptibly over my shoulder.

"I have. If you looked close enough, you'd notice that I've left my mark all around the place. And this is also why I'm politely asking you to leave and not come back."

At my words, the guy let's out a scoff, waving me off.

"And why should I do that? You're clearly not doing a good job." He says matter of factly, nodding slightly at the woman behind me, thinking I didn't notice it.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" I push, evening my stance in preparation.

"Well, for a start, this place is crawling with vampires."

I give him no reaction, knowing that he is mostly wrong - I've never let a vampire slip through my fingers, barring the four who skulk around the Boardwalk all night, and they hardly count.

"And what is your solution? I'm not gonna leave."

"Well it's quite simple, really." The hunter smirks at me, before I feel the familiar rush of air that signifies the approach of his accomplice. Instantly, I duck down and let the vampire lunge over me, stumbling past my form as I surge back upwards, pulling her arms back into an uncomfortable position and forcing her to her knees. In surprise, she cries out, writhing in my grip until I pull out my stake and hold it to her neck.

"An interesting solution, but I think you'll find I have a lot more experience than you think, and this is not the first new vampire I've encountered." In my grasp, the woman gasps and whimpers as I pull her arms tighter, nearly breaking her elbows. Across from me, the hunter appears shocked, a line forming between his eyes as he takes in my indifferent countenance, "Now, I'm gonna tell you again. Leave Santa Carla and never come back."

"Or what?" He snaps, scowling at me in frustration.

I roll my eyes, pulling the vampire upright, as I make eye contact again, giving him a pointed look as I thrust the stake straight into the side of her head, holding a hand over her mouth as she screams in agony, her blood pouring out onto my clothes and skin, her body writhing in pain. The hunter starts, a hand lifting as if to stop me, though it is quite clear that it is too late, her vampiric features fading as she finally falls unconscious, her body dropping to the floor with an unceremonious thud.

"That was strike one. Strike two is a little more...damaging." I explain to him, wiping my hands off on my jeans.

He stays silent for a minute, clearly shocked by this turn of events, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he speaks again.

"I doubt it. You think that scared me off? She was useless anyway." He scoffs, though I can tell he is lying, his stance tense and ready to move at a moment's notice, sweat beading on his brow.

"Maybe, but I reckon you have a high sense of self preservation, even if your techniques are as bad as they come." I muse out loud to him, before reaching into my jacket and pulling out a handgun I nicked from a security guard a couple of months ago, holding it down by my side for the minute. His eyes widen a little, almost indiscernibly, his neck tightening as he swallows nervously.

"You don't have the guts to shoot me."

"Don't I?" I cock the gun, aiming straight at his head, "Wanna test that theory?"

Gritting his teeth, he finally decides it's not worth it, climbing into his truck and driving off without a second glance, my arm only dropping when the vehicle leaves my sight. Sighing, I feel the disgust at my appearance finally set in, the congealing blood plastering the fabric of my clothes making them stick to me uncomfortably.

A whistle, followed by a slow clap interrupts me. I turn to find the four people I least want to see leaning against the darkened window of a closed shop, eyes all fixed on me.

"Nice going. Didn't think you could actually do it." Mullet-boy (as I call him) smirks at me, a cloud of smoke billowing out of his lips as he speaks, a cigarette clasped between two fingers.

"What the hell do you four want?" I retort, eyeing them all suspiciously.

"Just wanted to see the show." Twisted Sister Wannabe shrugs, leaning back against the wall with a wide grin, Blondie agreeing with him with a smirk. Only the brunette remains silent, his dark eyes watching me with some sort of emotion in them - admiration?

"Well show's over now, so you can leave me alone."

"Where's the fun in that?" Mullet-boy responds, sauntering over to me with an air of confidence, stopping over the body of the vampire I killed just minutes ago.

"Where's the fun in staying here?" I point out, hesitantly crouching down by her head, pulling the stake from her lifeless skull whilst keeping a close eye on the vampires crowding around me.

A low chuckle leaves the leader, his lips briefly closing around his cigarette as he inhales and exhales after a few seconds.

"You stopped Marko from going after her earlier. Why?" He finally asks, blue eyes holding my gaze in place.

"Who?" I question, before remembering the name that goes with the correct face, "Oh right, yeah, I did. You would've messed up my plan if you'd kept going, and you would've ended up dead."

"Is that right?" Blondie - or rather, Marko - bristles at my words, stepping forwards slightly until the brunette stops him.

"What makes you think he couldn't take them on?" The taller vampire inquires, eyebrow lifted in curiosity.

I shrug dismissively.

"They were both new to the profession."

"Doesn't that make them easier to kill?" Twisted Sister Wannabe frowns, exchanging a glance with Marko.

"Maybe, but it also makes them more dangerous." I sink the piece of carved wood into the unconcious vampire's chest, killing her properly, before placing the stake into my pocket again, standing back up again and backing away from them, going to the space where the truck was originally stood, inspecting the ground around it. The vampires watch me with interest, none of them making a sound until Marko and Twisted Sister Wannabe start to whisper with each other, the two of them giggling amongst themselves at some private joke, only stopping again when I lean down to pick something up off the floor.

"What've you got there, kitten?" Mullet-boy questions me, voice sounding bored even though I know I've piqued his curiosity, the platinum blonde making his way over to me again, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Don't call me that, Mullet-boy." I growl at him, warningly, feeling slightly triumphant when his face tightens momentarily.

"I could ask you the same thing, hunter." He responds, tone laced with threat.

"Or you could ask me my name." I point out, inspecting the object in my hand: a small signet ring which reeks of garlic. Clearly, the hunter is not aware of how utterly useless this is.

"I know your name. The question is whether you remember ours."

"Of course I do, I'm not an idiot." I snark back at him, examining the insignia on the ring's face, not quite noticing as the other three come closer.

"We never said you are." The brunette, Dwayne, reminds me, his head suddenly appearing close to mine as he takes a look at the loop of metal in my hand. I tense up as I find them all circled around me, each of them looking at the ring, a frown appearing on David's face as he drops the cigarette, crushing it underfoot as he takes the ring from me.

"That's interesting." He murmurs to himself, eyeing the intricate lines with a practiced eye, as if he knows the pattern well.

"What is?" Twisted Sister Wannabe, Paul, asks, face creased with confusion. When the leader doesn't move to respond, I roll my eyes and step forwards, taking the ring back from him with a sense of finality, going back over to the body, where I pat it down, looking for any possessions she may have owned, finding none except another ring, a smaller one this time. Pocketing them both, I reach under the limp body and tense my muscles, picking it up with a small grunt, wincing a little when the drying blood sticks to my clothes, the stench quickly entering my nostrils. As I heave the body into a comfortable position, I shoot one last look over at the four vampires, nearly smirking at their surprised expressions, clearly not expecting me to be able to lift such a heavy weight, raising an eyebrow at them almost as if in farewell, before turning and starting to walk off, intending to dump the body out at sea, where it won't be found for at least a few weeks.

"I have one last question before you go." David calls after me, voice genuinely curious for once.

"What is it?" I snap back at him, eager to get home at this point, fed up with reeking of vampire blood.

"Would you have shot him if he didn't leave?"

I slow my pace momentarily, redrawing the gun from my jacket as I balance the body against me. Without a word, I aim blindly at a nearby building, compressing the trigger twice.

Only one hole appears in the brickwork.

"My first shot is always a blank, but my second is always well-placed." I respond, continuing on after holstering the gun once more, cursing myself for wasting a bullet. Behind me, I can just about make out Marko and Paul talking with each other, one sentence standing out to me.

"Well, I'm glad we don't have to worry about her." Paul says this, but he is quickly interrupted by David, who sounds a little put out.

"I'm not so sure about that."

#joel schumacher #the lost boys #vampire #david(thelostboys)#paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#kiefer sutherland #marko(the lost boys)#santa carla #vampire hunter #Marko #Paul #Dwayne #David

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