WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN - alex turner

chapter two

The world around you seems to blur as you're faced with a horrifying and inexplicable reality. The enigmatic vampire, who had been a haunting presence in your life, now stands before you in desperate need of aid, his fate inextricably linked to your own.

"Jesus Christ," you exclaim, "what happened?"

You rush to his side quickly, not knowing where to put your hands or what to do entirely. The situation is surreal, a nightmarish twist you never saw coming, as you grapple with the unthinkable: tending to the wounded vampire who had once been a source of both fear and fascination in your life.

Your trembling hands hover over Alex's wound, your nerves and uncertainty palpable in the air. He's been shot in the heart, and even for a vampire like him, this is a wound that challenges his own healing abilities. He needs your help, and the weight of that responsibility bears down on you.

With a shaky breath, you glance around the bathroom, searching for anything that could assist you. The room seems mundane and ill-equipped for the supernatural crisis unfolding before you.

"Okay, okay," you mutter to yourself, trying to muster some semblance of confidence. "We need to stop the bleeding. Pressure, right?" You press your palms against the wound, and Alex winces in pain. Blood seeps through your fingers, warm and sticky, as you apply pressure as best as you can.

Alex's pallor deepens, and beads of sweat form on his forehead. His eyes remain fixed on yours, a silent plea for help, and you can see the vulnerability in his gaze—a vulnerability that you've never witnessed before.

"Please," he manages to utter, his voice strained. "I can't... can't heal this myself. You have to help me."

You gulp, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite the fear and insecurity gripping you, a strange sense of empathy compels you to keep trying. The enigmatic vampire, whose presence had once struck terror into your heart, is now relying on your shaky hands to save him.

Time stands still as you continue to apply pressure, your fingers sticky with his blood, a surreal connection forming between you and the creature of the night who had once been a source of mystery and fear.

With your trembling hands still pressed against his wound, you manage to find your voice through the fear. "Why can't you heal yourself?" you ask, your words shaky.

Alex's breathing is laboured, and he struggles to explain, "I haven't... I haven't been feeding from you for the past two nights. My... my strength is waning, and I need your... blood now."

The gravity of the situation sinks in. He depends on your blood to sustain himself, and the lack of it has left him vulnerable. The thought of being his lifeline, of providing him with the very essence he needs to survive, sends shivers down your spine.

You glance down at your hands, which are now stained with his blood. The room feels smaller, the air heavier, as the reality of this bizarre and perilous connection between you and the vampire becomes all too clear.  With a sense of urgency, you continue to apply pressure to Alex's wound, doing your best to stem the bleeding. It's a superficial fix for now, but you know it's essential to keep him stable. The bathroom floor is slick with blood, and the metallic scent fills the air.

You glance at Alex, his complexion growing paler by the second, and you realize that you can't stay here. With great effort, you manage to help him to his feet, but he can barely walk. His strength is fading fast, and the journey to the bedroom feels like an eternity.

Steadying him as best as you can, you guide him through the dimly lit hallway, your footsteps faltering with each step. It's a Herculean effort, but eventually, you manage to get him to the bedroom.