Archaic ||Peterick||

The Killers

He woke up on the doorstep. What felt like a knife edge cut into his bottom lip. The sky formed in front of him and then...

"Ashlee." he groaned.

Pete woke up, being dragged by unknown bodies. He felt as though his neck had been stepped on by elephants. He weakly struggled against the hands.

Ashlee ran over to him in concern. "You were meant to be home hours ago! The suns almost up! What happened?!"

A man walked over and grabbed his face. "You're late. It's almost morning. What the hell happened to him? I thought he was meant to be strong."

Ashlee wrapped his arm around her shoulder and helped him into the bedroom. She lay him down on the bed.

"You know what to do with him." The hands hauled him in to a dark room. They threw him down on the floor.

Ashlee gently kissed his head. "Were you mugged, baby?" She cooed gently and stripped him, checking for injuries.

They cuffed him to the wall. "Lost your fight? Little baby," they mocked and laughed. They pat him down, checking for weapons.

Pete slowly reached a hand towards her. She took it and smiled. She kissed his hand and put it back down. "I love you, baby boy."

He reached up to them, as they took the knife out of his pocket. One of the men smiled. "I can't believe you could've killed someone... Don't look like you'd kill a fly."

He didn't answer. His hands were shaking. His head hurt, and he fell back on the floor. Ash stood over him. "Are you alright, baby?"

He didn't speak. His hands were shaking. He hurt his head as he was thrown down to the floor. A figure stood over him. "Are you gonna cry, baby?"

Something wasn't right. Something was wrong, in his head. The world was spinning around his eyes but he was spinning around the world. He couldn't see, but he could see everything...

He knew something wasn't right here. He knew something was wrong here. They were looking at him like they knew him, but he knew they didn't. He didn't know them. But looking up, he saw a shadow detach itself from the ceiling. A shadow he thought he knew...

"Are you drunk again?" Ash asked, warily. He nodded, her words just barely registering. He was fairly sure he was still in shock. He knew something had happened. He just wasn't sure what it was.

"What's wrong with him? Seriously." Pete looked up at them, eyes lidded. He didn't move his head, he could barely hear. He needed to escape. He couldn't move.

His heart broke, looking at Ashlees disappointed face. He needed to warn her, warn her something was wrong.

"Are you sure this is the right guy?" They asked accusingly. "It looks like him.." Pete hates that he didn't feel out of place being watched by the men and helpless.

Pete opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. A choked up whimper barely escaped his throat. He had to warn her.

Pete tried to say something to the men but found his throat closed up, now that he noticed he felt panic low in his stomach. Something was definitely wrong.

"It's okay to be scared... just tell me what happened." She said softly. He didn't want her any closer. Her heartbeat was too loud in his ears. He backed away. He knew where this was heading, and he knew the only way to stop it. He glanced at the door.

"I thought the great Patrick Stump wasn't scared of anything?" One of the men said harshly. Pete didn't want him any closer. His breaths came short and quick. He backed away. He knew where this was heading, but he couldn't see a way out of it.

She pouted, putting one arm over his shoulder, draping the other over in turn. "You're my little vampire boy." She smiled. He looked into her eyes, the wide, eyes, not scared. He wished she was. Maybe she'd run. Maybe she'd go away.

Pete bit his lip, taking one knee protectively up to his chest, the other following in turn. "Please don't hurt me..." he cried. He looked into the eyes of his attackers, their narrowed eyes without fear. He wished he could make them scared. Then, maybe they'd run. Maybe they'd go away.

"Ashlee... please go." That's what he meant to say. It came out as a growl. Something creeped at the corners of his vision, and Ash backed off slightly. "You're... You're... calm down, Pete-" He couldn't hear her anymore.

"Please go away..." That's what he meant to say. It came out as a growl. A shadow creeped at the corner of the room, and the two men backed off slightly. "He... He's coming for you. You're in shit..." He didn't care anymore.

He caught her by the arm, and dragged her closer, standing up easily with a supernatural grace that most definitely had not been there before. Ashlee tried to shake out of his grip, but he held her too tight.

An arm stretched across the ceiling from around the corner, and a leg followed, shaking with an unnatural jitter every time another disjointed limb placed itself on the ceiling surface. Pete tried to shake off the fear that held him in this form, but it was too strong.

She could feel the cold breath that he growled with, his claws digging into her arm. He pressed her back against the wall, and leaned down, his fangs gracing her collarbones. "Pete... please." She whimpered. A tiny, tinkling cough answered, coming from deep in his throat. It sounded, for all the world, like some kind of twisted laugh.

He heard it's heartbeat, uneven as it growled like thunder on the horizon. It creeped closer, and now he saw it, the twitching human face it wore, licking its chapped lips, as it dropped down in front of him, a dark brown fringe hanging in front of its eyes. "Please... don't." He whimpered. It smiled. And laughed, quietly.

Ashlee looked up, up at the face she used to know. He was almost completely unrecognisable. His skin had blanched a pure white that was almost silvery. His fangs poked out over his chapped, colourless lips. His ears had a new point to them, not even covered by his raven hair. She looked down. His bat heart tattoo was accentuated by the papery skin. It felt like paper, too. It didn't feel right at all. She looked back up again, bringing herself, finally to look into his eyes. Gone was the mischievous caramel brownie sparkle, replaced with a listless chartreuse. They weren't Pete's eyes. And this wasn't Pete.

He looked up into the face he knew too well. He recognised the face. It wasn't much different than it had been in high school. The face that he'd loved so much, but been too scared to say it. His eyes were dark, fully black, no light visible in them. A row of shark's teeth behind black lips. He had a tail now, hanging over his head. He looked down, noticing a black bloom on his tight red shirt. It looked like the same one he'd worn on prom night. He raised his head slightly, noticing the huge tentacle-like formations jutting out of his back. He gulped. Was this him? Was this the real Ryan Ross?

He listened to her heart beating. Quick. Strong. Scared. He groaned. He couldn't wait anymore. She struggled, yelling for him to stop, but he knew he couldn't. He pulled her hair back, and pressed his fangs into the soft skin. Saliva rolled down from his tongue as it forked, the first beads of blood bubbling out. "Please..." she begged. But he bit down in reply.

It stopped in front of him. Ready. Waiting. Hungry. It yowled. It wanted him, and it didn't care who he was. Pete pulled back, but it pulled up its stained and ripped shirt, and opened the wide mouth in the centre of its stomach. It waved its tail over his head as Pete felt acid fill his eyes, his vision sharpening like his fangs. "Please..." he begged. It bit down in reply.

A scream wrenched itself from a closing throat. A mouse skittered across the floorboards, startled by the disturbing sound. She groaned, her voice breaking just as the skin on her shoulder was. He lapped up the pool of blood hungrily. She let out one last final scream, holding onto his arm, and everything went dark.

He screamed, barely able to sum up the breath to do so as his stomach was punctured. A bat detached from the roof, startled, and he smiled sadly, looking at it with a kinship, a feeling of brotherhood in his heart. It was that that stopped him from crying out again. He knew it wouldn't help. He watched the bats fly from the belfry, and then everything went dark.