Blood Thirst

Chapter 4

He had to go. How could he have been so stupid, accepting the help of strangers? He should have known they had ulterior motives. He should have known that people with such a nice house would have been vampires. He should have been more careful, but instead, he let himself be lured by them and fell right into their trap.

What would he do now? His face was on the news. There was no chance that anyone would buy his blood. They wouldn't risk facing the wrath of a coven. Peter wanted to cry. Why did everything have to go wrong when anything good happened in his life?

Finally, Peter arrived at the warehouse he was staying in. He would have to leave, of course. He had to get out of the city, put as much distance as he could between himself and that vampire couple. He ran to his stuff, packing everything into the ratty backpack he had found in the garbage the other day. Just as he zipped it up, a voice echoed.

"Peter."

He turned around so fast he could swear he heard his neck crack. In front of him was a man he had never seen in his life, tall and dressed in dark clothes, but the most prominent feature was the metal arm that made him ten times more terrifying.

"Who are you?" Peter asked, clutching his bag in his arms.

"I'm part of your new family, Peter. I'm here to take you home," the man said confidently.

He was a vampire. He was one of them. Peter took a step back. He had to put as much distance as he could between them. "No, I won't let you transform me into a monster."

The man smiled sadly. "Why do you say it like it's a bad thing?"

"Because it is," Peter said instantly. It was the truth; being a vampire went against all his principles.

"Would it be so bad to not starve, to have a roof over your head, to have a bed to sleep at night?"

"I don't care about that. Leave me alone. I won't go with you."

"Peter, you don't understand," the man said, taking a step forward, making Peter grip his bag tighter against his chest. "I wasn't giving you the choice."

For the second time that day, Peter ran. But strangely, the man didn't follow him, and that made it even more terrifying. Peter didn't let that affect him. He ran with all the strength he had left. His bag was discarded somewhere in the warehouse; he couldn't spare being slowed down by the extra weight. He would find new things again; he had done it before; he could do it again. There was no need to risk his freedom, his sanity for it.

He saw the door, his ticket out. He slammed against it, opening it, being blinded by the sunlight. But Peter didn't let that stop him and continued running, not for long. He only took about three steps before he ran into someone, arms instantly grabbing him to prevent him from falling.

"Wow, son, where are you going in such a hurry? Is everything okay?" Peter blinked before realizing it was a police officer talking to him.

"You have to help me; there is a guy inside, he is trying to take me," Peter said desperately, pointing to the door.

"Who is trying to take you?" the man asked, confused.

"It's a guy, he has a metal arm," Peter said, rushing, wanting to get away from there.

The policeman's eyes sparked with recognition, just enough to alarm Peter. They were there for him. Unfortunately, it was too late for Peter to do anything. The man's hands already had a grip on his arm, his partner already running in their direction.

"No!" Peter screamed, trying to free himself from the grip.

"Calm down, kid; it's okay."

They were trying to calm Peter down, but it was useless. He was hysterical at that point; there was no calming him down. Peter's hands were forced to his front, and a pair of handcuffs were slapped on his wrists.

At this point, Peter was a mess. His fate was sealed; there was no chance that he could escape. The cops dragged him to the police car parked on the sidewalk, locking him in the back. Peter stared out the windows, seeing the man with a metal arm get out of the warehouse, Peter's bag held in his hand. For a moment, they locked eyes, a vicious smile adorning the man's face, a vision that would haunt Peter's nightmares.

The car moved forward. Peter hadn't even noticed that the cops had entered the vehicle.

"Where are you taking me?" Peter asked. Perhaps they would take him to jail; he resisted their authority, after all. At least in jail, he would be safe from vampires.

"We're taking you to your coven, kid," one of them replied, confirming Peter's worst fears.

"No, you can't do that; please don't take me there," Peter pleaded, his hands grabbing the jail-like divider.

"It's out of our hands, kid."

Peter started crying. This couldn't be happening. Everything he worked for, all these years to avoid it, was getting torn apart.

"It's not that bad, kid. I mean, the Avengers coven are rich and powerful; no harm will ever come to you."

Peter froze. "The Avengers?"

"Yeah, isn't it great? They haven't accepted new members in centuries; you will be the baby of the family."

"No," he said, putting his head between his bound hands. It wasn't great. Not only had Peter managed to catch the vampires' attention, but he had also caught the Avengers' attention.

Peter felt the car stop. He didn't lift his head; he didn't need to know where they were. His brand new golden prison.

His door opened. There was no stopping this; it was out of his hands. He got out of the car, the two cops standing on each side of him, like he could escape, like his hands weren't handcuffed in front of him.

He looked up and froze. There they were, at the entrance: the couple that Peter thought were the nicest people he had encountered but were, in fact, his biggest nightmare.

"Oh, Peter, we were so worried," the blonde one said in relief, moving forward to hug him.

It was awkward; Peter's hands were still handcuffed in front of him, and the cops were still holding him, preventing him from escaping. Steve let him go, looking him up and down to ensure he was unharmed. Meanwhile, Tony had also stepped forward.

"Take it off," he said, gesturing slightly with his head to Peter's hand. In the blink of an eye, Peter was free and transferred to the vampires' hold.

They didn't wait a second before dragging him inside an elevator. Peter's heart was beating wildly; he wondered if the vampires could hear it. The doors opened to a living room, the same one Peter had escaped from a few days ago.

"Please," Peter pleaded for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. It was useless, but it was the only thing Peter could do. "Please."

"Oh, Peter, it's okay; it won't hurt; you'll barely feel it."

It was supposed to comfort him, but all it did was terrify him more.

Peter was pushed onto the couch, Tony behind him, holding him down. No, they couldn't do this now. No, they couldn't. This couldn't be how it ended. "It's alright; it'll all be over soon," Tony murmured into his ear but didn't relax his hold on him.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe this was all a dream, and he would wake up. It was all a nightmare, and Peter would wake up to his aunt burning something, and it would all be perfect again. But it wasn't a dream. It wasn't a nightmare. This was real, and it was happening right now.

Suddenly, a sharp pain hit his wrist, a burning sensation spreading like wildfire through his body. Peter opened his eyes, screaming from the top of his lungs. It hurt; it was the worst pain he ever felt in his life. He tried to move, tried to escape the pain, but Tony still held him, Steve still attached to his wrist.

He screamed; behind him, Tony said something, but Peter couldn't comprehend. He felt like he was dying.

His body was losing strength, and suddenly he couldn't scream anymore. Against his will, he relaxed against the couch, his eyes closed. He couldn't take it anymore.

Finally, Steve let go of Peter's wrist, smiling proudly at the now unconscious boy, at the now new member of their family. He wanted to cry; after all these years, he finally found someone perfect, someone worthy of their love.

He knew it would be a long ride, but they had time; they had all of eternity now.