#not to mention the entire season of him being in unfathomable pain with his insides turning to ash | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nodusomnis · 4 years

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title: brilliance of land pairing(s): tsuzuru minagi & reader characters: tsuzuru minagi, reader, citron, sakuya sakuma, masumi usui, itaru chigasaki, izumi tachibana, omi fushimi synopsis: even the land can be admired by the sky, too. word count: 6.7k

@emilycollins00 ‘s entry: Morning! ^^ Uh, I'm getting a bit shy suddenly! I really love your edits and writting style! and I was hoping I could ask, if you had time of course and wanted, a TsuzuruxmatureUnistudent!reader? as,Tsuzu starts getting selfconcious around them but doesn't connect dots and some member mention it or make fun! It doesn't have to end in kiss/confession, I wanted to see how they would react in the situation. Maybe it's a little too vague...? in any case, thanks in advance, keep up the good work!

a/n: My apologies for taking me this too long to write. I was too caught up in the moment that it took me ages to finish this LMAO on the same note; the premise provided me an inspiration, so I was so avid to write for this 😅 well frankly, the other reason was because I was busy with my online classes, too. So I do apologize for making you wait this long 🙇‍♀️ anyhow, thank you for loving my edits and writings 😊💖 I’m truly grateful! Thanl you for requesting as well! I hope you like this one. Enjoy reading! 💛

Tsuzuru’s recent bearings had him befuddled quite a lot in these past few weeks, which affected the performance in his classes, and mostly during their practice for the forthcoming spring troupe’s next play. He was altogether aware of how he’d easily become strained and a stuttering mess when confronting someone sometimes. However, the action he presents you doesn’t correspond to the individuals he has interacted with before. Rather, it was unfathomable for his intellect to bring in the answers he desires to know. Prior to these inexplicable emotions unfurling in his chest, he hasn’t endured these sorts of sensations that were surprisingly pleasant, yet with a smidge of pain blooming in the depths of his heart. If he were to ask as a scriptwriter to describe the feeling he’s experiencing as of late, Tsuzuru would effortlessly say that it was similar to a beautiful flower blooming in its perfect season, yet has thorns adhered in its stem.

It’s so poetic that he, himself, was even surprised to muse about such things.

It’s true that at the beginning of your rendezvous, he was tense and tripping over his words. He could not even look at you straight in the eyes for his timidity reining over him. But he already reckoned the reason; it was only natural of him to do that toward the people he has yet to meet before. And now that he has known you for about almost a year, he guaranteed that the shameless behaviors of his would launder and was comfortable to be around you. But to his dismay, it only reverted to him.

In university, it was inevitable to see and cross paths with you. After all, you are his classmate in one of the subjects he’s taking. More importantly, you two are seatmates, so how can he avoid you? And if ever you detected his preternatural actions, it would alone incite your suspicions and inquire what problem he has to be so apprehensive around you. And if you are, then he doesn’t know how he will explain it because he, himself, does not know where to begin with. He has no notion as to why he's being like this anyhow.

Well, to be honest, he got comfortable, but those unpleasant emotions only came back as though it brought him back to your first meeting.

It was hell for him, and he won’t deny it.

He could not concentrate on their lessons as he would occasionally glance at you and noticed himself that his head was over the clouds for staring at your face for too long.

Most of the time, when the two of you were in your breaks hanging out in the library or any facilities with fewer crowds, his actions seemed to be so limited that he felt like there were shackles wrapped in his wrists and ankles, restricting his every move. Furthermore, his answers were deliberate that it would take him quite a long time to answer the questions you had asked him. The only reason he can hand over is that he doesn’t want to screw himself up in front of you, especially since he refused to give you comments or suggestions that won’t be of any help at all.

For what it’s worth, he wants everything to be perfect, which he wasn’t like that toward someone even to his friends—well, except to his scripts by all means. But for some reason, whenever he was with you, adrenaline would rev up, and the torrents of rush would drive him in frantic that Tsuzuru sorely knew it would only make the situation worse.

Therefore, that winds up to him being so darn lame in front of you by tumbling over his words excessively rather than usual. He was getting restless and reckless at the same time. Not to mention, he would invoke a disaster in your environment by tugging someone and spilling their drinks or foods by accident. He was so foolish for being like that when he didn’t intend to from the get-go. The only thing he has done was a mere contradiction of the actual situation that he covets.

Damn, he was so ashamed of his recent demeanor that Tsuzuru wishes to vanish into thin air, or the ground would just split up into two to eat him fully. Every time he recalled his upsetting blunders had him wishing to melt to where he was standing at this exact moment.

In spite of not knowing his newfangled emotions, he does somehow remember when these feelings sprang up.

It was the time when he spotted you in the school’s field, leading your classmates with your current project for the upcoming event of your program. He discovered that you were the leader of your group and appointing them to a task they have artistry in so it won’t be onerous for them to manage their positions. There were some instances he’d pass your classroom and then would take a peek, only to discover that you were working with the arrangements for the forthcoming event until the sun would set on the horizon.

He could vividly see how zealous you were in your task and doing your best for your group mates. It wasn’t a hurdle for him to recognize when he’d witness the way your eyes would glisten every time you found a lead, followed by the corners of your lips bending into a smile like a child getting an ice cream. With just that one simple smile, Tsuzuru couldn’t help to form a smile as well and feel the warmth starting to swell inside his chest. It was like a scene in the films he has watched, a scene that will seize your attention and will never forget even if time goes by.

It was picturesque for him. He couldn’t get rid of that scenario until now.

And that's when he mostly paid attention to you.

“Tsuzuru. Hey, Tsuzuru!”

“E-Eh?” The mentioned guy has awakened from his trance after hearing his name being called. “A-Ah, (Name)-san. Sorry for spacing out like that.”

You scrutinize him for a brief second before eliciting a sigh. Face brandished with worry about the guy “Why are you saying sorry? It’s only natural for you to be engaged in woolgathering like that, considering you’re a student, a part-time actor, and a scriptwriter, too. It’s justifiable that it would take its toll on you. If there’s anything I can assist you with, don’t be shy to ask me, okay? I’m always here to help you.”

Tsuzuru hastily whips his head to the side as he feels the heat soaring to his cheeks and heart hammering fast from seeing your bright smiling face once again. He was thinking about your smile not too long ago, and you’re already attacking him like that. He’s not prepared!

If only you knew what he’s thinking about… and yes, it’s somehow important to him, he figured.

“It’s nothing, really. But I appreciate the thought,” Tsuzuru assures you before deflecting his attention back to his book.

Both of you are in the library as it was your lunch break for today, and it’s your duty as a library assistant to be present in the place. Tsuzuru utterly knows that he likes to evade you at all costs since these idiosyncratic feelings will abruptly overflow like water breaching the walls of a dam once his eyes catch sight of your form. However, despite recognizing the consequences, he still dared to visit the library. It seems like there was some alien voice in the back of his head, whispering to him to go, just for him to see your lovable face.

He has no idea why he acquiesced with it as though his entire existence was being enchanted by an unknown. For that reason, he is now in the library meeting with you like he normally does, and the sensation of apprehension washes over his being again.

“You know, you’re acting odd these past few weeks. You’re getting more jumpy than necessary, you see.” As soon as he hears your claim, Tsuzuru nearly chokes on his own saliva and falls off his seat. He tries to keep up an undisturbed facade, but his attempt was all in vain once his eyes locked with yours.

“I-I am?” Once the words slips out his mouth, Tsuzuru urges of slapping his face so hard for asking a stupid question that is already obvious.

“You’re good at looking after people, but when it comes to yourself, you can’t.” A light chuckle tickles through your throat as the scriptwriter merely shows a bashful look because it was a fact. It was insurmountable for him to dispute your remark.

His grip on the pen tightens as he senses the weight of your stare on him. Because of that, Tsuzuru feels the sweat gradually emerging on his temples as he is positive that you are inspecting his gestures and expression to figure out what was troubling him. You’ve always been like that. Trying to scrutinize him as possible, for you can lend him a hand with the heavy burdens he is bearing. Although he never asked or confided in you about his problems sometimes, you were quick to determine what it was, and before he knew it, you were already there beside him and awaiting him to confide to you.

“(Last name)-san.” Both your attention diverts to a familiar girl walking toward your way. Tsuzuru realizes that it was one of your classmates he has seen during your scheduled meetings.

He doesn’t understand why you were so ardent of helping him out when you have other personal concerns as well? Tsuzuru couldn’t help but be culpable for boosting the baggage of your onus. That being the case, he was compelled to return the benevolence you had given him, too.

“Enomoto-san, have you discussed it with the program chair?” you immediately ask once the said girl approaches you.

“Yes. Currently, we’re reviewing the expenses we had for the event. The program chair wants to note every material we used and bought.”

“Is that so?” you say with relief as though your load has been alleviated. “Then, we should recheck the preparations and the venue we’re going to occupy. I will later make a list of the materials and give it to the program chair. Anyhow, is Suzuki checking the technical equipment?”

Your classmate nods in response. “Yes, he’s with Hiyori-kun. By the way, (Last name)-san. The program chair’s asking for your presence in the faculty room. She needs to discuss the guest speakers coming next week.”

Tsuzuru merely listens to your exchange. Seeing you working this up-close had made him admire your diligence and the way you carry out your responsibilities as the organizer and leader at the same time. You do your duty with calm and confidence, as though you’re already a professional working in a certain industry. Tsuzuru doesn’t have those outstanding qualities for which he envies you for having the poise when confronting someone. If he’s in your position right now, he knows for sure that he will be scatterbrained and couldn’t utter a sentence without stumbling over a word.

Even in your part-time job, you handle the customers with discretion and decorum. You would not forget to show them an amicable smile and talk to them with a careful articulation that would eventually convince them and give you their trust. No wonder why some customers would often call your name and greet you with enthusiasm like you were friends for a long time. After all, you’re an approachable and trustworthy woman for them to just scorn.

You two sure are opposite to one another. You’re like the sky, and he’s the land. You’re unattainable, yet so exquisite and bright. And as for him, he’s just a land who would keep looking at you from below, but won’t get tired from admiring you in the meadow.

“Ah, Tsuzuru, I should go ahead. I have to do some important matters to take care of,” you notify him, to which he snaps out from his musings again and sloppily nods his head.

“Sure. Take care, (Name)-san,” he says, moot in his voice.

Staring at him for a moment, you shove the thoughts away and grin at the chap. “Well, see you later. And don’t forget what we talked about, okay?”

With your last giggle, you saunter toward the counter to inform the librarian about your leave. And subsequently, you skedaddle from the library with your classmate.

As the spring troupe’s practice went on until the clock struck to nine, Izumi dismissed the practice for them to take a rest and continue tomorrow. The members agreed and sat down on the floor to regain their normal breathing and have their usual meeting after every practice. Sakuya was the first one who initiated the discussion about their performance just recently. They looked back at their mistakes and gave each other’s advice on how they will improve their acting for their specific roles.

While they are in the middle of their analysis, the sudden ringtone of a phone had paused them from their doings and looked to one another to ask if it’s theirs. Tsuzuru instantly knew that it’s his due to the familiar ringtone. Therefore, he rummages through his pocket and takes out his phone to see who the one is calling him at this hour.

As soon as he saw your name, his senses had woken up from the weariness he just had from the practice.

“I-I’ll just take this call,” he says to his fellow troupe members. Tsuzuru takes a breath before accepting the call.

“H-Hello, (Last name)-san.”

“Hi, Tsuzuru! I apologize for calling you at this hour. Am I not bothering you?” you worriedly ask.

“No. A-Actually, we just finished our practice. So, why did you call?” Tsuzuru feels his throat getting parched by the minute the call goes on. Everyone was quiet, even Citron, who would start a noise around and spout some words they don’t understand. He doesn’t know why their eyes are on him, seemingly scrutinizing and eavesdropping to your conversation.

“About that, I was just wondering if you’re free next Saturday. I want to invite you to the after party of our program’s event. So… are you?”

After hearing your sudden invitation had rendered him mute. His jaw slackens, and his eyes blink a few times before processing the message into his brain. And not only that, his loud beating heart is resounding in his ears that he’s not quite certain if you’re still talking on the other line.

“Hey, Tsuzuru. Are you still there?” Thanks to your voice, it broke him from his stupor and for showing a ridiculous face in front of the members.

“Y-Yeah. I-I’m free next Saturday.”

“Sweet! Then see you tomorrow. Don’t take it back, okay?” Tsuzuru replied yes, and you cutely chuckled, which isn’t good for his poor heart.

“That’s a promise! Anyhow, if you don’t mind, can you reserve me a ticket for your troupe’s next play? I’m looking forward to watching it.”

“I’ll tell the Director about it. I’ll give it to you as soon as she gives me the ticket.” Once he said that you squealed in excitement out of the blue. And that alone shocked the scriptwriter, and his heartbeat only intensified.

“Thank you so much, Tsuzuru! I’m excited about what script you have written for this. Watching your scripts getting converted into plays sure does make me overwhelmed and happy for you. I really love your scripts, Tsuzuru. They are beautiful.”

Your sudden adulation left him stunned without failure. It appears that time had slowed its tick, and his cognizance was only directed to the dynamic thumping of the organ in his chest, making it harder for him to breathe. And there’s this funny feeling in his stomach that is like a feather being slowly rubbed across his belly. It tickles, yet he wants to feel it more. Above all else, he’s sensing himself wallowing in the warmth engulfing his body, like he’s bathing in the warm rays of the sun in the morning, kissing his skin with its golden light.

“Well then, I guess I need to go. I still have to do my homework,” you say, almost whispering. “I hope you have a good night.”

Tsuzuru suddenly felt his heart drop at your announcement, and the tingling sensation in his stomach instantly vanished.

“Sure, (Name)-san. Good night, as well.” Once both of you said your farewells, Tsuzuru ended the call, and a sigh escaped his lips, knowing the fact that he won’t hear your voice for this evening any longer. He does admit, hearing your voice during calls makes him feel at ease for some reason.

“Are you okay, Tsuzuru-san? Your face is red,” Sakuya remarks, causing him to look at their leader with confound.

“What are you talking about, Sakuya?”

“Was that (Name)?” Citron follows a query. With just a mere mention of your name had Tsuzuru felt the flow of heat ascend to his face and couldn’t constrict himself from answering with his usual stutter.

“Y-Yeah, she only asked if I’ll be available next Saturday.” Upon his response, Citron abruptly hollers and jumps on to his manzai partner.

“Oh! Is this a date?!” When he announces it aloud, Sakuya’s face instantly reddens, and Itaru whistles in amazement, whereas Masumi charges at him with a frown etched on his face.

“How dare you be the first one to be on a date before me?” Masumi’s voice was baritone, glaring daggers at him in proximity.

Tsuzuru doesn’t know where to begin since his mind is becoming clouded with embarrassment, and more importantly, he refuses to confront his fellow troupe members, for he knows that they will take the information erroneously. Particularly Citron, who has a penchant for misunderstanding the story he has heard. Then, everyone will believe him with his incredulous disclosure. Although Itaru knows that it’s the contrary of Citron’s word, he will still ride on it and teased him about it just for his own amusement.

That being the case, his vengeance for the salaryman was to give him an arduous role through his written scripts.

“It’s not a date!” Tsuzuru exclaims, abstaining the two who were surrounding him and interrogating them with their folly. “(Name)-san only invited me to come to their event. She’s one of the organizers.”

“But it’s still called a date if a girl invited you to a special event!”

“What kind of mind do you even have to assume like that, Citron-san?!” Tsuzuru rebuts to the grinning foreigner beside him.

“This is unforgivable.” Masumi hauntingly closes the gap between him and the scriptwriter. The frown on his face does not seem to dissolve despite clarifying the misinterpretation Citron had announced.

“I told you it’s not like that!” He asserts and then looks over at Sakuya and Itaru who are watching him being swarmed by the two. “A little help here, Sakuya, Itaru-san!”

Hearing Sakuya’s name being called had snapped him out from his stupor and drew his attention to the poor bloke who’s being crowded by their two fellow troupe mates. As Sakuya was about to lend him a hand, Itaru, who recently finished his quests, adheres him in his place by putting his hand on his shoulder.

“Eh, Itaru-san?” The leader confusedly questions. But the aforementioned guy only presents him a whimsical smirk before casting his fuchsia irises on the interrogated university student.

“We should leave him be. This is a good opportunity for our dear scriptwriter to experience romance once in a while,” the salaryman says, voice hinted with mischief.

Tsuzuru hadn’t misheard what the oldest had said to Sakuya. In honesty, he heard it loud and clear despite Citron’s and Masumi’s annoying voices reverberating throughout the practice room. That alone incites the foreboding that he has, and his lingering irritation for the two only heightens due to Itaru’s provocation.

Asking for help from the working man was the worst decision he had made for now. He had forgotten that he can be immature from time to time, albeit that he’s already an adult and has the authority in their troupe. It’s supposed to be him who would manage and mollify everyone from their mess at his age. However, it wasn’t. Itaru is also one of the pain in the asses to deal with, and to his misfortune, Tsuzuru was the one who fell in the position that was supposed to be Itaru’s.

He couldn’t even clean the mess in his room and not eating a proper meal sometimes. Tsuzuru doesn’t know why he was the one cleaning his room even though it wasn’t his. Well, he couldn’t help himself because it’s already in his nature to look after others first before him, especially that he's been taking care of his little brothers in most of his life. Hence, he has grown to carry it wherever he goes, and despite that he refuses to do it, his instincts tell him otherwise.

“Good luck with your date, Tsuzuru. You have our blessings. It’s now your time to show your charming side to her,” Itaru encourages with his shit-eating grin that did nothing but exhaust and aggravate him.

“Itaru is right! You also have my blessings!” Citron enthuses as though he was his mom, congratulating her son for his breakthrough. “You should give him your blessings, too, Sakuya.”

“E-Eh… Do your best, Tsuzuru-san! I give you my blessings, as well!” Sakuya says, quite frantic, which Tsuzuru doesn’t know if he’s afraid or ecstatic about his situation.

“I refuse to give my blessings,” Masumi emphasizes with obstinacy in his tone.

Tsuzuru knows full well that his efforts to clear the misunderstanding will only pass through their ears and tease him further. That is why he surrenders from his attempt to defend himself and just let them do what they please. He refuses to exhaust himself to a greater degree by simply convincing them with the truth. It will merely drive him insane.

The closing night for the second play of the spring troupe has come to an end. It was an absolute success in which everyone congratulated each other and knowing the irrefutable fact that the audience loved the play and the actors performing on stage. The cheers and applause were indeed delightful to hear. Their hearts were pounding in rapture as their smiles grew wider by the second they heard the ovation of the audience. They can even witness the merry faces of their director and their manager behind them. It was an eye-tearing experience. Despite they already knew the feeling of success during their debut show, the second is still the same as they had known of.

Once the curtain had closed and said their gratitude to everyone, you congratulated them and gave them a bouquet as your present for the cast in the staff room. The director was happy to see you as always. You never missed watching their troupes’ performances, even if your initial purpose was to only watch the spring troupe’s play because of Tsuzuru, who you knew, for he is your classmate.

However, you had grown to love the other troupes, for they have their own charms that drew your regard to each one of them. They have their aptitudes and themes that you’d never get tired of watching everyone shining and sparkling on the stage with their content smiles and sense of devotion to acting their roles with perfection and thrill. It was a magnificent view for which you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring the Mankai Company’s troupes.

They are charming in their own way.

The director invited you to their after-party in their dormitory, which you gladly accepted as you were timid to decline her humble invitation. Moreover, you have been celebrating with them every now and then when you have nothing else to do for the day.

As you had figured, Omi was the one who cooked the food for the party, and being the kind and considerate person he was; he cooked their favorite dishes and treats. Although he’s a guy, he has this cooking skill that you surely commended. His talent for cooking and baking anything amazes you. Whether the dish is foreign to him, he’ll cook it with the same delicious taste just as his usual cooking.

“Good evening, It’s nice to have you here, (Last name)-san,” Omi greets you as he puts a plate of dishes on the table.

You smile and return the greeting, “Likewise. Your cooking is amazing, as always.”

“(Name), I’m happy that you joined us for the after-party!” Citron says with excitement while pushing Tsuzuru toward you.

“Citron-san, what are you doing?!” complained the scriptwriter, struggling to free himself from his hold. But the mentioned guy solely flashes him a grin that Tsuzuru swiftly notices the underlying meaning behind that smile of his. He suddenly felt his stomach churn, having a bad feeling about this.

“Tsuzuru’s script is amazing as always, ne?”

“By all means.”

The only reaction that Tsuzuru dispensed was to blush at your compliment and stare down at his feet for you not to see the pink hues spreading across his cheeks. Even though you’ve been giving him credits ever since the start of their debut, he’s still not used to you suddenly blurting some beautiful words to him. It wouldn’t fail to make him on edge and as if his heart was going to burst in his chest.

In all honesty, it’s a delightful feeling but really not good for his heart.

The party commences. Everyone was talking about their hurdles before the outset of their second show, particularly Masumi and Itaru, who didn’t get along well at first. But their relationship had progressed when the adult visited him in their school and tried to understand one another by playing a game.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their humorous circumstance. In the end, they didn’t understand each other, but their relationship had developed.

As the conversation went on, suddenly, you became the next subject of their discussion.

“We learned that you invited Tsuzuru to an event!” Citron pipes in, causing the said man beside him to let out a sharp intake of breath.

“W-Why are you suddenly including that in the conversation?!” Tsuzuru frantically says, seeming to reprimand the foreigner.

“Eh? But I wanna know if it’s a date or not.”

With that, Tsuzuru’s face starts to color in a bright shade of red as the director gives you two a surprised reaction. You were quite astonished as well if you say so yourself. Well, there’s no point denying it since you did invite your classmate to come to your program’s event. But one thing that grabbed your attention is why he’s asking if it’s a date or not. You don’t blame Tsuzuru if he’s getting embarrassed since you’re equally embarrassed as he is.

“I told you countless times already, Citron-san! It’s not a date!” That’s when Tsuzuru’s last thread of patience snaps. He hadn’t intended to shout at his manzai partner, but considering that he’s making the atmosphere awkward between you two is something that he will never have the patience with.

He recognizes your confusion and discomfort with the current situation. He feels obligated to tell you a sincere apology, but the words he wants to tell across seem to attach in his throat. His mind is getting hazy by the minute, making it difficult for him to recompose himself in this dire plight.

“W-Well, if you take it into consideration as a woman and man, it does seem that I’m saying it will be a date in a roundabout way,” you chuckle with a grain of humor in your voice. This immediately catches their attention and presents you with bewilderment written on their faces.

“I told you it’s like that,” Citron laughs, feeling satisfied upon knowing that his hypothesis is true.

Unbeknownst to you, your answer was the last straw for Tsuzuru’s heart to explode. His heated face only increases its temperature, which he assures that everyone can notice that he is blushing.

Why are you always attacking him unannounced like that? If you’re often like this, it will drive him crazy.

“Heh, Tsuzuru looks like he wants to be splashed by cold water on his face,” Itaru teases before he takes a sip on his drink, not removing his apparent diversion toward his troupe mate.

Sakuya, who heard the older’s comment, merely grabs a cold water and hands it to him. “Your face is red, Tsuzuru-san. Are you okay?”

Tsuzuru doesn’t know what to do anymore. Being with his troupe mates is surely gonna be the reason why he has white hair growing on his head at such a young age. Sakuya’s not helping in the situation, too. He’s too gullible for his own good in which everyone is taking advantage of, particularly Citron, who loves to tell stories about his adventures that are not even true.

He’s not really okay. He just wants to flee from the place and go to his room to rest.

“You know, whenever you’re around, Tsuzuru’s getting self-conscience!” Citron chirps, which makes you bewildered at the particular word he said.

“Self-conscience?”

“You mean self-conscious,” Itaru corrects.

“Yes, that’s it!”

“I am not!” Tsuzuru instantly defends, but the two ignore his complaints and tease him further.

You haven’t had the slightest idea why Tsuzuru’s becoming self-conscious when there’s nothing to be in the first place. Recalling the scriptwriter’s recent strange bearings only affords you an idea from your question of why he was suddenly becoming uneasy when you were with him. And on top of it, his habit of stuttering became worse than the original. Now you piece all the confusions you had together.

So he’s getting self-conscious? But why? You don’t understand.

“Remember the day when you and (Name) went to the mall to buy some school supplies? I was there, too! I saw that you were being fidgety and stuttering a lot! It was hilarious to witness you like that, Tsuzuru!”

“Ah, now that reminds me,” Itaru begins. “I saw you on the terrace, calming yourself and even taking a breath before you answer a phone call back then. At first, I thought it was one of your bosses in your part-time jobs, but I discovered that it was only (Last name).”

“Then, that means he’s really self-conscious!” Citron asserts.

Tsuzuru’s tongue-tied, doesn’t have any words to say in this exact moment knowing his troupe mates had seen him in those shameful moments of his with you. He can’t dispute since it’s all the truth. Even he was bewildered by his actions as of late. He has no idea how to describe his current situation. It was making him perturbed and left him with tons of questions that he was desperately seeking to know.

Now that his troupe mates had given him the answer to his quaint actions, he accepted the words they had pointed out. There’s no room for him to be defensive, considering the answer he was seeking to find out is already there. Furthermore, he has no escape from this embarrassing situation. You already heard everything that he doesn’t want you to discover.

His troupe mates certainly are troublesome fellows.

“Tsuzuru,” you call his name to get his attention. However, it seems that he hadn’t heard you as he didn’t move in his spot. You elicit a small sigh before attempting to slap his cheeks gently with both hands. It didn’t take you seconds to pay you his heed.

“(N-Name)-san?” he stammers, surprised to see your face up-close and holding his cheeks with care. You beam him a gentle smile.

“Let’s talk,” you softly say before retracting your hands from his cheeks with a smile still intact on your visage. Tsuzuru felt his stomach twist, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He utterly knows that you’re going to talk about today, which is why he’s preparing himself for the worst. It will be reasonable if you’re going to avoid him after this. After all, the recent occurrence a while ago is indeed uncomfortable and embarrassing.

Everyone is quiet. The atmosphere is still. No one spoke, even Citron, who’s fond of initiating a commotion in the dorm with others. The director’s only looking at him with a worried face, and Masumi is still the same as ever, looking at Izumi with heart-shaped eyes, not even bothering with what occurred earlier.

He envies his roommate’s ignorance with this circulating tension around them. It must be nice to be so carefree.

“Where are we going?” he manages to ask despite his parched throat.

Upon his query, you direct your gaze to the director. “If you don’t mind, can I borrow Tsuzuru for a bit?”

Izumi blinks her eyes before answering you in a bit of a panic. “S-Sure, we don’t mind.”

You say your thanks and signal to the scriptwriter to follow you to the courtyard.

The journey toward the yard was disturbingly restrained. Only your footsteps and Tsuzuru’s were the one thing you can hear. You didn’t mind the silence since afterward, the two of you are going to talk about today.

You don’t even know that Tsuzuru’s fidgeting and his whole being is getting wallowed in the sea of his anxiety. His fear of cutting ties with you is something he can’t take. After all, you’re the only woman he has befriended this close with whom he can share his problems and rants about his life. And just because of his troupe mates being a busybody, it will estrange your relationship with him.

Once the both of you step into the courtyard, the fresh breeze of spring season whirls through your bodies and affords you a sense of tranquility. You continue to walk as he follows you to the center of their dormitory. The scent of the flowers planted by Tsumugi wafts through the air, which surely helps Tsuzuru to relax his stiff shoulders.

As you two reach the center, you halt your steps. Tsuzuru mimics your action, and a dreadful feeling eventually washes over him. His repose because of the calm ambiance of the garden was only a fleeting moment of his because his apprehension came back to him once again.

“Hey, Tsuzuru,” you say; your voice is still the serene one that he had known, almost subduing the abnormal beating of his heart. You turn on your heels to face the man. “Am I that intimidating for you to be self-conscious around me?”

Tsuzuru breaths in, recognizing the playfulness in your voice. Your famous smile didn’t seem to disappear as it was still the same smile you wore every day. It baffled him for a second. He assumed that you’re going to give him a serious look with no smeared of jocularity in your eyes. But it was all the opposite of what he presumed.

“E-Eh?” That was the only reaction he could give. He was still in the process of understanding your words.

Your grin expands before letting out a giggle. “So that’s why your behavior is strange these past few weeks. It’s because you’re self-conscious around me.”

Your friskiness had Tsuzuru’s face to blush and lips to tremble in shame. No coherent words are available for him to say. He remains still in his spot as he simply watches you laughing at his embarrassing acts.

When he paid his attention to you, it seems that you’re too far away for him to reach. Every time he saw you from afar, it looked like you were sparkling in his eyes. Your smile that couldn’t be tarnished, your confidence that he admires, your etiquette in various circumstances, and also your benevolence that isn’t exclusive for just one; it’s for everyone.

Everything about you, Tsuzuru adores. And knowing that you two are the exact opposite, his chest would unwillingly wrench. It pains him to look at you because he's completely aware that he’s out of your league. You’re too bright for his dim light.

“(Name)-san,” he subconsciously calls you, and it catches your attention in an instant. You wait for him to speak, and Tsuzuru wants to retreat. However, his melancholic musings are encouraging him to do it. “If you only know how I greatly admire you as an individual. It’s like you’re too far from me and I can’t reach you. You’re like the sky that is so bright, too beautiful, and pure for me. Me, as a land, doesn’t want to tarnish your beauty. My position was to merely admire you from afar. I'm too way out of your league. There are so many who want you, people who are well-known, and have more recognition than me. They’re the ones who have the right to be beside you, unlike me, who’s dull and a complete nobody.”

Tsuzuru looks up to watch the stars glimmering in the night sky. After that speech of his, both of you didn’t utter a single word as you let the silence engulfs you two. Distinguishing his impression of you had rendered you stunned, as you hadn’t expected him to give you such regard.

Tsuzuru shifts his body, inserting his hands in his pockets while not averting his gaze from the sky. “We’re completely opposite, (Name)-san.”

You purse your lips, jaw clenching since Tsuzuru was not giving credit for himself. His degradation makes you upset. You do appreciate how he sees you in high regard, but you dislike it when he’s self-deprecating when there are things and qualities that you admire him for. He doesn’t know that he’s much better than you are. He’s too blind to notice the wonderful qualities he has.

“You see,” you say as you stare at the view above. This time, Tsuzuru diverts his notice to you. “The land is much better than the sky itself. The land gives life to all the living things; providing animals and humans with shelter, growing beautiful trees and flowers with its soil, a place where people can freely walk to, magnificent landscapes that are breathtaking to capture, and especially nature that is essential for our survival. Isn't it similar to you, Tsuzuru? The land is an all-rounder; it has many attributes that it can provide. And you, you can do almost everything, even everyone is aware of that. Your troupe mates can spell it out for you if you still doubt yourself. They even called you jack of all trades, aren’t they?”

You tear your gaze away from the sky to peer at Tsuzuru, whose eyes are wide. Afterward, you shoot him a smile, assuring him that you’re sincere to the words you had said.

He’s too speechless to give you a meager response. He feels his chest fluttering in glee and as if someone’s caressing his heart to feel so fuzzy inside. Tsuzuru will be lying if he says he’s not happy to hear your words, because the truth is, he’s elated to the point he wants to leap in ecstasy and hug you right here, right now. But Tsuzuru still has the decency not to breach that boundary. Therefore, he controls himself from caging you in his arms.

“I-I…” Tsuzuru had strived to speak, but to his dismay, the shock was too much for him to recover immediately.

You let out a hearty chuckle. “That’s the brilliance of land, which is why you need not degrade yourself like that. You’re perfect in your own way. Further, you have so many things you can offer. You’re not out of my league. We’re only the same. I admire you because it’s you, and you admire me because it’s me. We have our own abilities, so there’s no such thing as inferior and superior between us. We’re equals. Moreover, you have this unique potential that many don't own, so don’t neglect it. Be that as it may, okay?”

With that, Tsuzuru couldn’t help but smile at your encouraging words. You sure know how to uplift his spirits. And he’s glad to know that your relationship won’t get estranged because of his pain in the ass troupe mates. He really felt relieved.

“I really adore you, (Name)-san,” he declares before tilting his head upwards.

“I admire you, too, Tsuzuru.” You look at the sky, as well. Then without hesitation, you grab his hand.

Tsuzuru flinches at the warmth of your small hand on him. That’s why he hastily snaps his head to you, only to see you grinning at him so cheekily. Comprehending that you're holding his hand makes him flustered and unable to think. His heart is strenuously beating against his rib cage that he's compelled to rip away his hand from you in order for you not to notice his violent heartbeat.

But in spite of it, the other him is melting in your touch and refusing to let go of your hand, especially because your warmth is transporting to him, which makes him calm and feel comfortable like his home.

Therefore, Tsuzuru squeezes his hold on you and shows you a sheepish smile, fending off the worries and shame that’s intruding on his mind. Those emotions aren’t needed in this heartfelt situation with you.

Both of you look up at the sky at once and savor the moment that was given to you by God.

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#A3! Actor Training Game #a3 game #tsuzuru minagi #tsuzuru minagi x reader #minagi tsuzuru #minagi tsuzuru x reader #a3 #spring troupe #harugumi #ink of eir.

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bunnylouisegrimes · 4 years

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Her Savior, Her Nosferatu (NOS4A2 Fanfiction)

Her Savior, Her Nosferatu

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction

By: Bunny Louise Grimes

A/N: This (very long) fanfic contains some disturbing things, so be ready. It involves a certain creepy character doing some very disgusting things, but I assure you, he will get his in the end, and near the end there will also be fluff. Avoid if that’s not your thing because this is a pretty dark fic with a hopeful ending, yes, but it is very dark. Some Trigger Warnings: Rape (both mentioned and part of the plot), gore, and mentions of Charlie’s child abuse and domestic violence (read Wraith Welcome to Christmasland comic to understand his backstory if you haven’t to get the full picture).

This is also a Charlie X Vic fic, but their relationship is extremely platonic and there is little to no romance at all.

Note that there are quite a few AU-ish elements in this story too.

It is set (generally speaking) roughly after episode 8 in the first season, although it is isn’t entirely canon-based.

Please, enjoy.

The blistering heat of a summer in July would’ve normally bothered Charles Talent Manx The Third, but with the windows down in his sleek and sable 1938 Rolls Royce Wraith antique, the breeze made him comfortable enough. Automobile air conditioning was not a luxury yet in the years this car was made, so having the windows rolled down was your only way of not baking in the humidity.

The ancient FM radio was cranked up. Instead of Christmas music, for once, Charlie was listening to a channel playing old music he enjoyed. Most of the music playing from this channel was from the 1970’s, but a few 1980’s songs came on, such as this one. Currently, Tears For Fears were singing joyfully about what a Mad World they were living in. The old vampire clacked his long nails against the steering wheel, humming along and gazing at the bright blue sky. The sun irritated his eyes, so he was forced to look away once it came out from behind some fluffy white clouds.

Currently, he was in Haverhill, Massachusetts. He was on his way to The House of Sleep, as he called Bing’s house. He called it that due to dead bodies of bad parents “sleeping” for all of eternity before being disposed of. Or, that is what Charlie thought...

He slowed his car down and halted outside the rickety house. The vocals to Tears For Fears died down just as Charlie released his keys and placed them in his coat pocket, leaving an awkward and almost unsettling silence. He was on his way to talk to Bing about a new child to save from a perverted uncle who was harming her, and she was in desperate need to be given a pure and happy life as a healthy and strong vampire such as himself and his other children.

He stepped outside the car and closed the door behind him. A collection of pinwheels blew in the wind, making a rapid noise that accompanied the trees rustling. He made sure the car was locked using his powers. The moment Charlie used his powers to lock his car, he froze.

His psychic senses were tingling at the moment of being activated. Something was wrong. He could taste something heinous on the tip of his tongue. His brain felt as though it was vibrating behind his eyes and within his skull. His heart rate picked up and his hands started to tremble. Yes, something was wrong, and he needed to figure out what exactly was the matter.

His instincts screamed at him, telling him to peak into one of the basement windows once his eyes happened to meet them. He slowly and carefully approached the house. His hands continued to quiver and his heart continued to thud as he walked over to the windows and got on his knees. He leaned into them to look carefully.

The dusty basement with colorful Christmas lights had some kind of noises coming from it. He squinted his sharp eyes and made sure to tilt his one ear to make sure his bat-like hearing could actually listen in. A young female voice in distress, crying out in pain.... a deep man’s voice chuckling and clearly being overjoyed... a rhythmic rocking sound was the beat behind their moans and whispers.

The vampire turned his head to the right, the direction the sounds were coming from. At first, he didn’t believe what he was seeing and thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Perhaps his mind dirtied an innocent action due to the dust-coated windows making things hard to see and interpret, even to eyes as keen as his. But when it dawned on him that this was no optical illusion, and his initial thoughts were indeed correct, horror swelled in his heart. His stomach sank, and one of his hands went to his mouth in pure instinct. He gasped, his mouth left hanging agape. His eyes widened in pure terror. A scream begged to be let out of his vocal cords, but the stone in his throat died before ever leaving it. He jumped back, dumbfounded and overcome with panic and shock. His heartbeat now raced in his ears, and his body shook to its very core. His eyes never left what disgusting act lie just beneath his feet.

Bing Partridge, that gargantuan lump of a man, was on top of thin and average statured Victoria McQueen. He could recognize her soft, pale face, now with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her dark eyes looked to be even darker thanks to her dilated pupils. Drool was pooling out of her mouth, and pain filled sobs croaked out of her. There was no doubt she was drugged up. Was she drugged... with the gas? Something inside Charlie told him that fat bastard used his gingerbread gas, only to be used to knock bad parents out before killing them, to make her weaker and unable to fight back. Her white, long sleeved shirt and blue jeans were thrown to the side, and she was left in her black bra, unhooked and near her thin stomach, and matching panties around her legs. The hairy and large monster was still within his regular clothes, the only exception being his pants also pulled down, exposing his bare ass facing Charlie from where he was looking.

The vampire could tell this was no consensual act. Not only due to her being drugged up, and not only due to her looking and sounding to be in distress, but he could feel her fear in his bones and head. He could smell the dreadful sweat pouring from every crevice on her body, and the petrified tears streaming from her foggy eyes. Something stirred inside of him at this sight, something that had been dormant for years. He remembered, more vividly than he had in an extremely long time, when something very similar happened to him.

He was a young boy, barely 13 years old, when one of his mother’s clients was thrown out after abusing her in bed. He wasn’t fully satisfied with her actions for him, he had said, and he was bitter. His mother accused him of being a homosexual, perhaps, and a woman didn’t do the trick. Oh, if only she knew how right she was, and that young boys were this man’s type. The man had followed young Charlie as the boy went to play with his sled, as was typical when his mother got done yelling at him, slapping him, or ignoring him to engage in her sexual acts with great glee. The pain Charlie felt throughout his body and mind that day was unfathomable, and no matter how much he cried out for help, no one came to his rescue. Men like his attacker had a very special place in Hell, Charlie was sure of it. It wasn’t like his mother, Fanny Manx, cared if such a thing happened to her son. In fact, she would’ve probably said, had Charlie not stood up for himself in an incredible way he barely remembered, that he deserved to be used, and it gave him a purpose in this world, something he lacked. Looking back at his abusive whore of a mother, it was quite the surprise to Charlie that his mother never tricked him out to get extra money, when she very easily could’ve and would’ve if she thought of it.

He had managed to escape after all was done and the man was satisfied with using the young boy’s body. He slid down a hill, not noticing a tree, and once his head hit the tree, something unlocked inside of him. The world around him had changed slightly, and he gained a newfound strength to murder his attacker with one of the sharp blades of his now broken sled. He stormed back into town and did the same to his mother and one of the men who owned the inn and mortuary he lived in with his mother. He had little to no memory of this event, and it seemed to him a horrible nightmare almost entirely lost to time.

But the emotions and events of Charlie’s assault became fresh and open in his mind. The despair and suffering he felt during that moment of his life came flooding back to his heart, tugging at the faucets behind his eyes to release water. Wounds healed after an adolescence filled with nightmares, panic attacks, internal confusion and trauma with no guidance, and shame from so long ago were opened once more, with deep red blood seeping out of the near non-existant stitches. His shock and horror melted into equally crimson fury as that blood dripped from his wounds.

They had begun to heal once he was in his 20’s thanks to time and maturity, and meeting his first wife and starting a family with her during the prosperous Roaring 20’s certainly made him feel happy. Of course, once she began to abuse him during the Depression when they lost everything, this brought back similar feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness, an inner conflict that made him come crawling back to his abuser because a part of him still loved her. Becoming a vampire and starting a happy family of children similar to his case had certainly rehealed his wounds for a very long time. He hadn’t meant to become a vampire with his daughters thanks to his powers unlocking after his second mental snap that was even larger than the first, but he had to make due with what was given to him in life, and he had. There was a part of him that didn’t like that he was a vampire and that his babies were vampires, but he knew that there were benefits, and he simply had to focus on the positives, as they most likely outweighed the negatives, no matter what anyone else said.

But no amount of comforting childhood innocence and Christmas joy could stop his wounds from reopening while seeing this revolting act play out in front of him. The agony of this poor teenage girl full of purity... and that small part of innocence left inside of her (despite a scrappy home life) being ripped away...yes, that home life allowed her to discover her psychic talent of finding lost objects, and led her to him, but it had caused her lots of pain that he understood. She was gothy and rebellious, and very modern, but none of that mattered. Charlie had fell for her, he cared about her, even if she didn’t see it. It was more than just the fact she was a Creative like him, although that was part of it. He understood her and wanted to be with her. He wanted her to be with him and to give her happiness, to give his children happiness in having a mother, and to give him happiness in having a wife once again.

He would need her virginity to help her transform into a vampire like him one day. He would be the one to take it through sex, and then fuse it back inside of her by biting her neck and focusing his energy on her. But now, none of that could happen. Not only because her purity was destroyed, but because she would have scars just as he did all those years ago that would make it extremely hard for her to trust or want to be with any man, to even get through life. It was somewhat hard for him at first to have sex with Cassie for the first time, but it was easier than expected, most likely because she was a harmless woman, and his trauma was not as fresh. For Vic, any man would bring back these feelings until her trauma would heal, if she was lucky to have it heal enough or at all. And even then, what if she wanted children with a man? Would she be too old to have them by then? Her life, much like Charlie’s life, was destroyed by a sexual impulse from a disgusting waste of a man.

But Charlie’s hopeful romantic plans with Victoria being ruined were not the larger reason why he was so disgusted, although they were a part of why, and he acknowledged there was a strong possibility she wouldn’t have wanted to be with him no matter what in the end. It was the fact that someone else, and especially someone else that reminded him of himself, was going through the horrific event that he exactly went through. He hated it when adults would harm children and especially sexually. When it was an adult doing it to another adult, regardless of virginity being involved or not, it was still filthy. Some men, unfortunately, never understood the importance of defending the honor of a woman, and this insult to a pig violating and destroying this girl’s honor, chastity, and identity sickened Charlie. Even if he hadn’t loved her, his rage would still be just as fire hot.

The vampire got up off the ground, his claw-like nails almost digging into his palms as he held his hands in sweaty fists. His dark brown eyes could burn holes into anything. He shook even more violently now. He was going to kill Bing Partridge. He didn’t know how just yet, but he knew it was going to be long and torturous, and it would be quite the spectacle to anyone who enjoyed a good gore session.

Charlie walked back to his car to grab a weapon from the trunk, his hostile resent clearly evident from the way he stormed over to his antique. He unlocked his trunk and pulled it out: his autopsy mallet he stole from the morgue during an event where he had to play dead in his crippled, old form due to one of his previous assistants being a fool and allowing them to be caught by the police. He wasn’t believed by a soul and locked in the looney bin, but Charlie had managed to escape. This event seemed to be forgotten by all police involved, and the general consensus was a necrophiliac of sorts stole his corpse.

The silver metal of the mallet shimmered and reflected the sunlight in an almost beautiful way. He tapped it in his palms, his thick eyebrows furrowed and lips tightly together in a frown. His mind was swimming in fire and ways to rip apart the man who ripped apart this poor girl, both physically and mentally. He quietly closed his trunk and walked back over to the house. He knew he had to sneak down to the basement to avoid being caught and noticed, as surprise was his ally in this moment. To take the monsters of this world by surprise and revel in their pain while justice was served was a euphoria Charlie could only describe as heavenly.

He thought about how he was going to break in. He tried the door, just to be sure, and it was locked. Charlie thought back to when he first came to this house if there was any kind of simple lock he could pull or turn with his telekineses. He remembered there was a key from the inside still within the keyhole you had to turn, and a top lock you had to pull. He focused his mind on these two things. When the key turned and the top lock pulled back on the other side, Charlie tried the door again and it opened. As quiet as he could, the old vampire walked on the floor as though it were made of the most fragile glass. Using his telekinesis, he closed the door behind him with equal gentleness and locked it once again so that if the fat bastard did manage to get away, it would slow him down.

He tiptoed down the hallway, the sounds of Vic’s crying, Bing’s grunts and laughter, and the rocking even louder than behind the muffled glass. His grip tightened on his mallet, as his anger was getting stronger every moment. He winced at every small creak his black Oxford dress shoes made across the wooden floor, but the monster seemed far too invested in destroying the poor teenage girl’s life to notice little noises. The sweat beaded Charlie’s forehead, and he was sure he looked red due to the resentful, lava-like blood flooding his cheeks. Interestingly, the vampire’s body temperature, with the exception of his face usually, would drop significantly when he was very upset, angry, and so on. His hands had gone cold as they clutched the metal of the mallet. If he so wanted, he could’ve froze it using his abilities, but that was not on his mind at the moment.

He managed to reach the basement door. It was wide open, and the despicable act was right in front of his face. He couldn’t move for a few moments, paralyzed from shock and rage, but he managed to creep down the steps with little to no noise. As he got closer, he could finally hear Bing’s terrible words.

“Mr. Manx will be so proud when I’m done with you... yes, he will be... God, you’re so soft! You remind me of my mommy... so delicate and fresh... with such big tits too!”

Vic continued to choke out cries and screams, her head lopped back on the chair. Her messy black hair looked greasy and as though it was pulled on. Helpless and frightened, she couldn’t do anything as this bear-like man continued to ruin her. Her glassy eyes just so happened to roll over and see Charlie creeping down the steps. She noticed he had some kind of weapon in his hands, looking as though he was about to attack... her assailant? Oh, Dear Lord, please kill this... thing. Her vision was blurry, and her conscious was in and out, but it was quite obvious he was angry and upset. The monster was too oblivious and too lost in his own sexual ecstasy to notice where Vic’s eyes were or what was just behind him.

Charlie’s eyes met Vic’s for a few seconds, and they glimmered with pity and empathy. When his gaze shifted back to the evil monster, fire filled them once again. He bared his sharp teeth and growled lowly, sounding like an animal. A group of fangs came jutting out behind his teeth, turning his low growl into a vampiric hiss. His nails grew longer, and a stream of dragon smoke came out of his nose and mouth. His primal vampire instincts were kicking in, and this included his body temperature becoming ice cold to the point it burned, as well as the ability for him to see his breath. It was almost as if his lungs froze over from within, and steam-like air was the only thing that could come out. He looked more akin to a beast-like bat or wolf than a man. His pale skin looked like ice, and his dark eyes turned pitch black and shiny, with hints of blood red around the enlarged, onyx irises. He finally reached the bottom of the steps, edging closer to the large creature...

Bing grabbed Vic by her chin and forced her to look at him. He smiled and chuckled, saying, “Why can’t you look me in the eyes just like mommy did for me?”

Vic finally managed to let out a blood curdling scream as clear as the day outside. A sharp WHACK interrupted her scream. The gluttonous cretin fell to the ground, yelling out in pain. The sickening popping of the bone and brain matter within Bing’s skull was Charlie’s definition of satisfaction. Vic could now see the vampire clearly. Tall and thin, he already looked a bit frighting when he held his normal appearance, but in this form, he looked like a walking corpse, frozen in time, but also in some kind of rotting stage which made aspects of him look like a feral animal with rabies.

Bing continued to roll on the ground in pain, groaning, but was interrupted by Charlie hissing and grabbing him by his shirt collar. His sharp nails tore at the fabric as he slammed the autopsy mallet across his skull. Blood went flying in multiple different directions. The large creep yelled out as his skull and brain were being bashed in and apart by the mallet. Nauseating and cringe worthy pops and snaps filled the basement, elevating Charlie’s euphoria. Vic sat in the chair, trying to process everything happening at that moment and everything that had happened to her in the past hours. She couldn’t give a time or even an estimate to how long she had been down there. All she had known was the amount of fear and pain she felt.

The mallet was soaked in blood by the time Charlie grew tired of hitting this monster with it. Bing’s face was caked in crimson. Parts of his skull and brain were mushy and exposed. And yet... by some chance, he was alive. While all of his cognitive function was most likely destroyed, he certainly could still react to pain. Good, makes him easier prey...

Charlie, in his adrenaline and satisfaction, gave a deep chuckle.

“Now you’re going to know what it’s like to be helpless and torn apart, with the only knowledge going through your mind being your pain.”

An idea came to Charlie when he saw the curved edge of his mallet. He forced the sharp end through Bing’s right eye and popped it out like a cork. He continued to cry out as Charlie did the same to his other eye. The vampire grabbed the eyeballs and chewed on them like they were gumballs.

Despite now being blind, and with skull and brain outside of his head, Bing managed to attempt to push Charlie off of his large stomach. The vampire tossed aside his ruby red mallet, growled, and slammed him down with his hands wrapped around his neck, his nails digging into his flesh, causing streaks of blood to come dripping out of his throat.

“Still have some fight?! How in the hell are you still alive?! Why can’t you just die?!” His angry roars suddenly molded into dark snickers. “No matter; that just means for fun for me. Not to mention, you’ll know what it’s like to fight back and perish for having the strength and audacity to dare defy the one hurting you.”

He let out a hiss sounding like a snake’s before grabbing Bing’s hands. With his teeth, he managed to tear out all five fingers on his right hand, followed by his left hand. Gobbling them down with incredible greed, the sick imbecile continued to scream out. While his mouth was wide open, Charlie reached into Bing’s mouth and tore out his tongue using his sharp nails. He shoved his own tongue back into his mouth for him to swallow and choke on.

While the dumpy half-wit gagged down his own tounge, Charlie decided the best should’ve been saved for last. He stood up and grabbed his mallet again, the blood dripping down it like red wine. He threw it down with great force onto Bing’s penis multiple times, making the rotund monster yell and squirm in agony. Charlie flipped the mallet around and, using the sharp curved end, peeled the flesh off of his penis like a banana. Piss and blood came flooding out of it, but the vampire could care less. After the penis was peeled entirely, Charlie ripped it off using the curved end of the mallet, and did the same to his balls. He grabbed the elephantine man’s penis and shoved it up his nose, which had blood pouring out of it. His balls went into his ears, which also had blood pouring out of them.

After his castration, the Falstaffian rapist sharing the same name as a search engine was barely alive. His breathing was labored and rattling in his chest.

“Still alive, are we, Mr. Partridge?” Charlie asked with a tone dripping with venom, yet smothered with innocence. “Well, I’m here to tell you that your services are no longer required. You have let me down and failed me. Perhaps you’ll have a better job with Satan in Hell, when you awake in his arms to be his personal torture toy. Maybe your mommy will be there to join in on the fun, just as you had your fun with her! There is just one unfortunate thing, I’m afraid...”

He leaned into his face. “The fires of Hell are not hot enough for the lowest common denominators of shit like you.”

The vampire brought his fangs back out and bit into Bing’s jugular. Frost bite broke the skin around his neck and rotted it. Blood squirted into Charlie’s mouth as he guzzled it down like fruit punch. He consumed the last of Bing’s energy to gain some lost strength from the amount he had to put towards torturing him. When he had his fill of energy and blood, he clawed the literal motherfucker’s hairy face with his nails and tore away at the flesh with his teeth to have a snack.

All the while, Vic was staring in horror at Charlie’s transformation from the polite gentleman she first met at the bus station, offering for her to become his children’s mother... to a primal, animalistic vampire, a true Nosferatu. She didn’t know how to react in the first few moments of watching, but near the end, she was relieved that her rapist was finally dead. She didn’t want to admit it, but part of her was enjoying Charlie torturing him and making a grisly spectacle of him. She was humiliated and degraded by him, and now he was being humiliated and degraded by being a vampire’s play thing and meal. Her mind’s focus would dip back and forth between what was going on around her and her own pain. She pressed her knees to her body and held herself to feel safer.

When Charlie was done, he lifted himself off of the creature’s corpse. Blood dribbled down his chin. It was also splattered on his face and clothes. His hands and nails were soaked, and his teeth and fangs matched. He grabbed his handkerchief and wiped his face and hands off. When they were clean, he looked at the handkerchief and pressed it to one of his fangs. He drained the blood from it and sighed when it was all clean. He placed it back in his front vest pocket and drained any blood splatter on his clothes with his fangs. He lastly licked his teeth and fangs with his tongue, the faint yellow color returning to them. He retracted his fangs and his nails (though, his nails could only retract until a certain point), turning to Vic. She looked up at him with large eyes and a pale face. His gaze softened as he approached her.

“Victoria,” he hushed. “What happened? How did he find you? Why did he do this to you?”

She was silent for a few moments before saying, in a very shaky voice, “He... he must’ve followed me home, found out where I live. He must’ve broke into my house because I noticed my box of condoms and weed was sitting on my bed when I had them in my closet. My mom and I went to a party, and she came home before I did, so she found them. He knew I had them, he told me when I woke up down here, so it had to have been him to place them there and break into my house. My mom got mad at me, but I tried to tell her I was being safe and careful. We got into a fight, and I went off to where my bridge was. I thought I could just get away for a bit and cool off in the woods, but he must’ve followed me then too. He knocked me out and kidnapped me. I woke up here and...” Her voice broke, and tears flooded her eyes.

Charlie nodded, knowing what she meant to say next. Normally, it would’ve bothered him that a younger person, especially a young girl, would be interested in drugs, but he understood weed was a weaker drug, and as long as she was careful and not careless, he supposed he could make do with such behavior. Had this disgusting event not happened, but he still knew she had such belongings somehow, he would’ve been concerned that she had condoms, as that meant she might’ve been interested in losing her virginity to someone else without giving him a chance and therefore couldn’t be with him forever, but he would’ve been fine with it, at the very least, if she had given him a chance and still wasn’t interested in him (as long as she didn’t want to destroy everything he had built), and especially because it meant she truly cared about her life and safety to the point she didn’t want to get knocked up while so young or get a disease. None of that mattered now, of course. In fact, all he cared about was her safety and helping her.

Charlie rested a hand on her shoulder. “When did this happen?”

“I... I can’t remember,” she choked out. “I want to say last night, but I lost track of time.”

He hushed her softly and leaned down to caress her cheek. “Did he ever give a reason why he did this to you?”

“He said it was to make you happy... if that’s true, why would you save me?”

While most of the angry flames in Charlie’s heart had died down after blazing so intensely, this comment made them spark back to a low flicker.

“I would’ve never wanted this. Victoria, I love you. I know you don’t love me, but that doesn’t matter. Even if I hated you, I would never wish or want this upon you. I had an experience very similar to this when I was a young boy, barely a teenager. Why would I want such pain to happen to you or anyone else? Even if I never had that experience, I still wouldn’t want it to happen to you or anyone else.”

“He told me he did it to Hailey’s mom, Sharon,” she whimpered.

Charlie’s eyebrow went up. “Did... this to her?”

Vic nodded. “Is that what you wanted him to do?”

Charlie shook his head firmly. “No! I never asked him to do that. His job was very clear and strict: kill the parents and dispose of them. I never asked him to... for God’s sakes, why would he...” He stopped and rubbed his hand on his temple. “I would never trust a man like that around my children. I would never ask a man to do that... I trusted him, and he failed me. I’m...” He stopped and covered his eyes in shame. “This is all my fault. I’m the reason he did this to you. My God, Victoria, I’m so sorry... I never should’ve hired him. Using my abilities, I knew what he did to his mother, but I thought I could use him for my benefit and the children’s benefits based on his ability to seemingly get away with murdering his parents. I thought he wouldn’t do what he did to his mother again because I was very clear in my directions and I thought he wouldn’t ever want to go against my wishes, but as it turns out...” He paused again, choking on his regret. “I was going to have my babies eat him if he ever made it to Christmasland, anyways. I couldn’t trust him around my children, not after what he did to his own mother! But the fact he did this to you and Sharon, despite me telling him to just kill the parents and dispose of them, and despite me never telling him to lay a finger on you, I... good God, please understand me, Victoria. I don’t expect you to forgive me at all-“

“Charlie,” she interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. Please don’t feel guilty.”

He looked at her, almost confused. He couldn’t believe she was saying these things to him. He expected her to be furious with him, but instead she was... understanding his point of view.

“You were only doing what you think is right, and in some ways, what you’re doing is right. I can see that now more than ever. You didn’t force him to do any of this, I understand that now too. You couldn’t control him doing any of this.”

“If I hadn’t come into your lives, he wouldn’t have-“

Her voice continued to tremble and tears ran down her cheeks. “Charlie, I trusted him before we met you, but I’ll be honest: now that I’ve seen what a monster he was, he was a ticking time bomb. He could’ve turned on me even if you hadn’t shown up in our lives. I could’ve been ‘too nice’ to him, and he could’ve interpreted that as a signal and done things to me. Maybe... it was just some fucked up thing meant to be...” A few sobs squeaked out of her, but she managed to regain some strength to finish what she needed to say. “All I can say is... do not blame yourself, and thank you for saving me. I’m sorry I didn’t understand you before.”

“You don’t feel sorry for anything,” the vampire told her, rubbing her back. “I don’t blame people for being afraid of what I do. In addition, vampires are misunderstood beings. We look frightening, aspects of us are frightening, and we can’t help it. People only look at our covers and don’t read the words in between. It’s an easy thing to do.” He stopped and looked down at his feet. “I still feel guilty and believe it to be my fault this happened to you, and I can’t even express how sorry I am it did...” He changed the topic. “...And I’m glad we’ve made up in a way, but now we need to get going. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

He gingerly lifted Vic up off the chair. Blood dripped down her legs and she began to cry again. Charlie gently hushed her and held her close to him.

“Do you need my help to put back on your bra and panties?”

She shook her head and pulled everything back on, trying to fight her tears. She grabbed her other articles of clothing and slipped them back on as well. Her biker jacket was tossed near the staircase. She grabbed it, but pain from within her body caused her to cry out and hesitate. He came to her aid and grabbed her jacket for her. She thanked him and pulled it close around her body.

“Do you have everything?” He asked her.

Vic checked her pockets and nodded.

“Good.” The vampire grabbed his mallet, lapped at the blood on it like a popsicle, flipped it, and stuck the sharp, curved end through Bing’s forehead.

“I’m taking this to Christmasland. I promised my children a delicious dinner full of fat, and I’m not letting them down. Plus, without a body, it will make things harder for police to trace things back to me or you. There’s no need for a case, as justice has been served. We will tell the hospital and any police that it was a large man, neither of us could get any physical details, I found you in the woods near your bridge because I heard screaming while I was driving, and I saved you because I scared him and he ran away. Is that okay?”

Vic nodded again. “What if my school or Bing’s other job notices he’s missing?”

Charlie pointed towards the gas, huddled in a corner of the basement.

“We’ll burn this place down, and make it seem as though he lost his house and he’s now gone homeless. Either that, or his remains were destroyed entirely. Nobody will know.”

“Okay, that’s perfect.” She grunted at another pain near her stomach. “These feel like period cramps, but so much worse...”

“I know, dear, I know...” Charlie held her close to his body with one arm and dragged Bing’s corpse with his other as they walked back upstairs. “You’re safe now. You’re going to sit in my front seat, we’re going to take you to a hospital, they’ll treat your injuries, give you Plan B, give you some anti-viral drugs to prevent HIV, any antibiotics as well, you can call your parents, and you’ll return home with them. You’re going to be alright. I know it doesn’t seem like it, believe me, I know very well. But I will be by your side and I will help you as much as I can.”

She clung to him, the two of them going down the narrow hallway. Using his telekinesis, Charlie unlocked the door and threw it open. They walked all the way back to the car. The passenger door creaked open. Charlie led Vic to it. She crawled into the car and sat down on the cushiony leather seat.

“Wait here,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.”

He closed the door and dragged Bing’s bludgeoned carcass to his trunk. He opened it up, raised the body (with the extra help of the mallet), and half threw it into the back of his car. After pulling the end of the mallet out of his head and setting it to the side of his body, he closed the trunk with great force. He walked over to the driver’s side of the car and opened his door. Vic was a bit startled at this, as she had been lost in time for a moment.

“Don’t fret, darling,” he hushed. “I’m just grabbing my lighter.”

He popped open the compartment near her knees and rustled through his candy canes, pine tree air fresheners, and map of The United Inscapes of America until he found his red lighter.

“I’ve got a few more at home, I can easily replace it.” He turned his keys and the Wraith purred to life. He smiled at Vic warmly and said, “I’m starting the car for an easy and safe getaway. There is going to be a big explosion, and I want you to enjoy that beast’s den going out with a big bang.”

He closed the door behind him and trotted back to the house. He went back down to the basement, organizing the sevoflurane canisters in a particular order he felt fit. He turned them all on. He went into Bing’s garage and gathered up a bunch of gas cans. He emptied all of the oil out all throughout the house. This not only ensured the house would burn, but it would throw authorities off and they would struggle to figure out which was the exact cause for the fire, if they could even find one or the other. Making things as confusing as possible for the police was key, because the more confusing, the colder the case.

When Charlie was done with the oil, he walked downstairs for the last time. He opened his lighter, flicked it on, and threw it at the containers. The second it hit them, he took off running out of the house. Heat picked up behind him as he jumped out of the doorway and fell onto the ground. The Wraith in front of him lurched backwards on its own from his control. It screeched to a halt when it was far back enough.

The initial explosion of gingerbread smoke in the basement caused the whole bottom half of the house to blow to smithereens. The fire spread from the basement to the rest of the house thanks to the oil and the fact the house was wooden in a matter of seconds. Fireballs exploded the windows just as Charlie threw himself down, causing glass to rain all over him. Heat as warm as the sun made his face drip with sweat instantly. The light was blindingly bright, strong enough to make one want to cover their eyes.

That is what Vic did the moment the house burst into flames. She gasped at the intensity and hid her eyes from the light comparable to that of a nuclear blast. When things seemed to die down, she looked up like a timid child from their blankets.

Charlie stood up and brushed himself off. He was completely unscathed, just had some dirt and dust on his clothing. He brushed his hands off as he approached his car. The door opened for him and he slid into the driver’s seat. Before he pulled the door shut again, he sniffed, and Vic got a whiff of what he was smelling.

“Gingerbread, oil, and burning wood,” he observed outloud. He closed his door and turned to Vic. “Certainly an interesting scent. Perhaps they should make a candle out of it. They can call it, ‘Dead Rapist’s Burning House.’ They could make a cause out of it: buy a candle, and you’ll be putting money towards torching a just-murdered rapist’s house down. Think of all the money that company would make, and think of all the sinister creatures of this world they’d be dealing with. Quite frankly, they should really make that a business. I know I’d donate.”

“I’d donate too,” she said softly. “Kill them all and burn all their houses to the ground.”

Charlie backed up his car, and as they were about to leave the burning house, Vic said one thing:

“It doesn’t matter that we didn’t leave his body in the house, because he’s already experiencing the heat and scent of his own poisonous gingerbread in Hell as we speak.”

Charlie nodded. “Yes he is, Victoria. Yes he is.”

Father Christmas took off on his sleek and black horse, the Brat by his side. His car served as a hearse as the dead monster in the back rolled around limply at every bump in the road.

They arrived at the local hospital. Vic was silent for the rest of the ride. She was too lost in her muddy thoughts, and Charlie didn’t force her into conversation. He didn’t expect her to speak, he understood that very well. Plus, there wasn’t much else to say at the time. They had made up loosely (for the time being), misunderstandings were clarified, their plans for the police were clear, and they had dealt with the creature behind it all.

Vic’s mind wandered throughout her torment in various directions. Charlie’s mind wandered throughout his guilt. A part of his mind told him that he was not at fault. He was clear in his instruction to Bing, it was that creature’s doing and fault. But a part of him felt it was his fault. Had he not entered either of their lives...

No, stop, his brain said. It could’ve happened anyways. You didn’t know the full story behind his end of his relationship with Vic. Maybe he was to do things to her regardless. If you had known him to desire to do this to her or anyone else earlier, you would’ve killed him then and there, but you didn’t because you didn’t know. But if you approached things differently... no, again, you would’ve had to know. You knew what he did to his mother, but you also knew he hated to disappoint and loved to please a fatherly figure. He was perfect for following orders. He went completely against them by hurting Vic and Sharon the way he did, that’s his doing, not yours.

But it doesn’t matter, it’s still my fault, isn’t it? It wasn’t intentional, but it’s still my fault.

Charlie pushed his mental conflict to the back of his mind for a moment as he pulled into a spot in the parking garage. He helped Vic into the hospital. They talked to a few nurses, who took her in. They gave her Plan B to prevent a pregnancy, collected evidence through a rape kit, and catered to her injuries. Police entered her room a few minutes later. She told them everything that Charlie and her agreed to say, and the vampire corroborated the story. They wrote everything down and said they’d do the best they could to catch the assailant. Once everyone left the room, Charlie and Vic looked at each other, their eyes knowing that the assailant was already dealt with.

He looked down, feeling disappointed in himself and painfully sorry for Vic. “Sorry doesn’t change anything,” said he, “but I want you to know from the bottom of my heart that I am. I will never forgive myself for this.” He covered his face. “What kind of man am I?”

“Charlie, please don’t,” She croaked. “I told you it was him, not you. If what you’re saying is true and you never told him to do these things...”

“Yes, I never told him to do these things.”

She sighed through her nose, looking down at her wringing hands. “You only do what you think is right, and in some ways, what you do is right. He went above and beyond all of what is questionably good and did a lot worse. He disobeyed you. He’s the monster, not you. You’re not perfect, and your actions aren’t entirely saintly, but I think I understand you more. Watching you murder him like that... I understand you have a moral code. He didn’t. I also now know you don’t harm the children, based on your protectiveness of them. Yes, they’re all vampires like you, but they’re safe from harm and can hurt those who would want to harm them, people like him. Plus, you’re preventing them from having dark futures, ones that you and I had coming for us when we were kids. Again, you’re not perfect, but you’re certainly not that sack of shit in your trunk. You’re better than him. This isn’t your fault. Don’t live in guilt for something you never did.”

“I’m psychic, I should’ve known-“

“Psychics aren’t perfect or know to use their powers to read everything in the future. That’s exhausting and unrealistic.”

“I had the power in my hands-“

“People have the power to do a lot of things. Does that mean things go perfect and they’re fully able to do or stop something or see something? Of course not. Charlie, please stop putting the blame on yourself.”

Their wounded eyes met each other.

“You really think all of this?”

“Of course. Why else am I saying it?”

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Victoria. I’m just... relieved he’s dead and dealt with.”

“I am too, and I have you to thank for that. Nothing can change what happened to me, but... who could know or control a rapist’s actions...” She wiped tears from her eyes and pointed towards her jacket set on the chair next to Charlie. “Could you give me my phone so I can call my parents? I told the cops I’d let them know what’s happening so that they wouldn’t have to, and I’m sure they don’t want to wait around any longer.”

Charlie nodded and gave her the phone. She opened it up and saw a bunch of texts from both parents. She called her mother first and foremost.

On the first ring, her mother picked up. She was clearly worried sick and her father’s voice was heard too, just as worried. Vic explained to them both what happened to her in a shaky voice. She told them the hospital she was at, and they agreed to come to her. The entire time, Charlie felt a sick pain in his heart.

Within twenty minutes, her parents came through the door. They hugged her and held her tightly as she wept in their arms. After a few minutes of talking to her, her father turned to Charlie.

“This must be the man that saved you,” he said. He hugged Charlie tightly, which made him awkwardly hug him back.

“Thank you for saving my little Brat,” he whispered. “You’re a life saver.”

Shame and guilt still swelling his heart, Charlie whispered back, “There is no need to thank me, sir.”

“No need?” Her mother asked. “You saved our Vicki from that man. I hope to God justice is served and he gets what he deserves.”

“I’m sure he will, mom,” Vic hushed. “Even if they don’t find him, he’s gonna get what he deserves. Who knows, he might be getting it already as we speak.”

“I’d like to think that...” She walked over to Charlie and hugged him. “Thank you so much, Mr...”

“Charles, madam, you may call me Charles,” Charlie told her, hugging her back. It was still awkward, and guilt still clawed at his heart, but he continued, out of courtesy and comfort. They ended their hug and he gave a glance at Vic, who looked up at him with equal sadness in her eyes.

“Alas, I must be going. I shall leave you all amongst yourselves to heal during this time. If you need me for whatever reason there may be, here is my number. I will be more than willing to help in anyway I can.”

He pulled out his wallet from one of the inside pockets of his coat, took out a small piece of paper from it, and wrote down a set of numbers. When he was done, he gave it to Vic, who nodded.

“Thank you again,” her father said. “We can’t thank you enough.”

“You are most certainly welcome,” Charlie replied, shaking hands with him. He shook hands with her mother and replied similarly upon her thanking him. He gave one last eye-to-eye exchange with Vic. They both had relief in their eyes, but there was also a deep, empathetic sadness.

“Farewell, Victoria. If you need me, please do not hesitate to call me. I will help you to the best of my ability.”

“Goodbye, Charlie. I will. Thank you for everything.”

He half smiled and nodded at her. “No need to thank me, my dear.”

He closed the door behind him, remorse still egging at him. He left the hospital and stepped inside his car, off to go back to Colorado and to Christmasland to provide his children with dinner.

He drove with his emotions still drowning his mind and heart. His car, almost seeming to know his feelings, turned on the radio by itself to play music fitting his mood. The Animals serenaded about the House Of The Rising Sun as he left Haverhill, all the shame and pity clinging to him.

When he reached Christmasland and provided warmth and smiles to his children, joy came back to him for a while as he watched them enjoy their fat meal. But that night, after tucking the children to bed and retiring for the night, the shame and pity came back to him through his sleepy thoughts.

Before slipping into a very bad and vivid dream about the day’s events, a few tears shed from his eyes, and he mumbled, “Victoria... I’m so sorry...”

Months had passed. Within that time, Charlie had found a better assistant, one that had no intent on doing disturbing things to the parents, only ending them intelligently and saving the children. He was a former hitman, and he quickly became friends with Charlie. The girl being harmed by her uncle was the first to be saved, and the hitman proved his worth from the beginning. The girl was brought to Christmasland completely safe and fine, now a strong and forever young vampire, and the uncle was dealt with in a proper manner. The hitman, named Crosby, was definitely a keeper, and he would be on his way to spending an eternity in Christmasland, only leaving to save more children. The kids would know he was a good man based on their father knowing he was a good man, so he was to not end up like the previous assistant.

Vic had not contacted Charlie at all, and he had not contacted her. He thought about her often, and hoped she was recovering and healing. He decided to visit her one day. He bid his children good bye and told them he’d be back later that evening. He arrived in Haverhill a few hours later and searched the local neighborhoods, trying to sense Vic. When he sensed her at one house in particular, he knew it was her mother’s house. She was not home at the time, and Vic was by herself in her room.

The vampire parked in her small drive way, stepped out of his car, and knocked on her door. She answered, a bit surprised to see him.

“Hello, Victoria. I do hate to be rude and arrive unannounced, but I had to check on you. It’s been so long, and I admit, I’ve been concerned about you.”

“Oh, hey... yeah, I’ve been doing better. I’m still... rough, as you can imagine, but at least things are starting to look a bit better.”

“That’s splendid,” he said warmly.

“You, uh... wanna come in?”

“Certainly.”

He came inside and she led him to her bedroom. Various gothy, horror memorabilia was scattered throughout it. A pack of Little Debby cookies sat on her bed, next to her sketchbook opened up to a detailed drawing of the woods. She was in the middle of playing a game on her Xbox, as her Mortal Kombat fight was paused. Through the menu options, you could see Queen Sindel letting out a banshee scream, knocking over Emperor Shao Kahn. Her purple lava lamp and the sunlight from the windows were the only source of light for her, so she turned on her ceiling light.

“Sorry for it being so dark. My lava lamp is sort of... my nightlight. I’ve been having nightmares ever since... the incident. I keep the curtains open because it helps me to sleep when I look up at the moon and the stars. Although, I have to close it when I have one reoccurring nightmare. It’s where... he, comes back and breaks through my window to hurt me...” She paused to regain some strength. She turned to Charlie, who sat next to her on her bed. “Is that normal?”

“Of course,” he hushed. “Nightmares are a completely normal reaction to such a horrible event. I had lots of reoccurring nightmares throughout my teenage years after my incident. They stopped once I met my first wife, but I’d rather not talk about her. Let’s just say we had a great bond in the beginning, but she... changed into a venomous snake later on and made things worse for me and my daughters. Enough of me, please, let’s talk about you. I’d like to help you in anyway I can. I understand every ounce of your pain, and I am here for you.”

She looked up at him. “Thank you, Charlie. I really mean it. Have you been feeling any guilt, even after we talked about how you shouldn’t?”

“I admit it, I have. At least once every day.”

She shook her head. “Please don’t. That’s all I can tell you. I’ve told you why you shouldn’t, it’s just up to you now to not feel guilt.”

He nodded. “I brought you some gifts, one of which I bought on my way here.”

He fished through his one jacket pocket and pulled out a book. The book looked dusty, but well kept. It was a copy of “Little Women.”

“Forgive me if it isn’t your type of literature, as I am not familiar with all of your interests. I had this book among my vast collection and figured it would be a nice gift for a woman. Plus, one of the few things I know about you is that you like art, and it comes with very pretty illustrations here and there.”

Vic smiled when she flipped through it. “Charlie, this is very sweet of you. I’ll be sure to read it. I’ve already blown through all my comics, and I’ve never read this before, so this would be nice. Maggie gave me a few books to help me too, she’s been very supportive and helpful. She actually stopped by a few days ago to talk... I’m very glad I have her as a friend.”

Charlie nodded. He was weary of Margaret and her suspicions towards him, but at this point, he decided her safe, especially if she wasn’t after him now (well, at least to his knowledge). “I’m glad you two have each other. Friends are always good to have when times are tough. And I’m glad you like the book. There is another thing I have...”

He pulled out from the same jacket pocket a necklace. The necklace had a shimmering green Emerald in the middle of a silver lilly. Vic took it and analyzed it with sparkling eyes.

“Emerald is my birth stone,” she said. “And my birth flower is Lilly of the Valley... where did you get this?”

“It was one of my wife’s necklaces. She wasn’t even a May baby, she just liked it. You are far more deserving of it then she ever was. Do take good care of it, especially because it comes from... 19...24? 1925? I don’t remember. Either way, it comes from the 20’s, so it holds great value.”

“Charlie, that’s... beyond nice. Thank you.”

“You have one more. This is the one I got on my way here at a thrift store I saw.” He pulled out her final gift: a small My Little Pony figurine. The pony was pink with violet red, orange, and yellow in her mane, and greenish-blue and violet blue in her tail. Her eyes were aqua, and her cutie mark had an artist’s paint brush with a few squiggle lines. A tag around her neck read, “Toola Roola: My Little Pony 3rd Generation.” Vic took the toy horse and analyzed her.

“I thought of you when I saw her because of the connection to art she has. I don’t know how much you like them, if you even like them at all, but I thought she’d be a nice gift.”

Vic smiled even wider. “I’m not a fan of My Little Pony, but I certainly do like her. It’s perfectly fine, Charlie, you thought of me and got me something, and that means a lot to me.” She set the pony aside and gave Charlie a hug, which he happily gave back to her.

“Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me.”

He smiled even wider and said, “Of course. I know exactly what you’re going through. I know how hard it is. But you don’t have to fight this battle alone, even if I feel I’m the cause it had to begin-“

“No, Charlie, you’re not.” She patted his back. “Enough with that.” She separated from him, and that’s when he noticed a picture on her nightstand.

“Who is that boy, might I ask?”

“Oh, that’s Craig. He’s my boyfriend, and we’ve known each other since we were kids. He’s been helping me a lot too when he can. He’s a sweetheart.”

Had these horrible events not taken place, jealousy would’ve filled Charlie’s heart, and he knew he would’ve had to really show off to get Vic’s attention so that she could perhaps choose him over a mere boy. But the events had taken place, and Charlie was just happy that Vic had someone like a boyfriend to help her, especially when her trauma could’ve been to the point she wouldn’t have wanted a boyfriend at all. Part of him wanted to be her boyfriend... but he knew that he couldn’t be with her because he couldn’t be with her forever, just like his heart wanted. So, it was something to forget about and just hope for the best for the both of them.

“I wish the best for the both of you,” he smiled and said.

“Thanks.”

They were silent for a few moments before an idea occurred to the vampire.

“You know, I could help make your nightmares go away, and I can help ease your mind. I’m capable of hypnosis, and if you’re willing, I could hypnotize you to help you.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Certainly.”

“Well, all right then. Do I look you in the eyes?”

“Yes. Just look me in the eyes and relax.”

Vic did just that as she laid back on her bed. Charlie’s eyes became rainbow filled, and he lulled her to sleep while singing Pure Imagination. Her own eyes mimicked his, and she fell into a deep and restful sleep, peaceful dreams coming to her at long last. Charlie gave her a few suggestions to help ease her pain, and when she was done agreeing to them in her trance-like state, he beamed proudly.

He decided he wanted to sleep too, so he laid back next to Vic. They didn’t snuggle or touch intimately, as they were simply lying next to each other as two tired friends. He closed his own eyes and fell into her dream with her, a dream about sugarplums dancing in their heads.

The Wraith and The Brat became unlikely good friends. They both helped each other through their pain, and ever since that cruel day, one good thing amongst all the horror came out of it: Father Christmas became her guardian vampire, her savior, and her Nosferatu, and that was how it was always going to be.

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