Paranoia (Zayn Malik) (editing)

Chapter 28: Promposal

Zayn's POV

I rush over to Luna, but she passes out before I get her in my arms.

I kneel next to her and examine the wound on the side of her neck. Loki managed to bury his fangs in deep enough to burst a vein, evident from the way the blood is non-stop flowing and spurting like a faucet that's been left on, staining the tiles beneath us and the white paint of the adjacent wall. It's spread over my fingertips as I pull her lolling head onto my lap. If I don't move quickly she'll bleed out in thirty minutes.
Instinctively, my fangs poke the flesh of my bottom lip, my nose having caught wind of her nose and the occult inside me urging me to taste. My senses zero in on the feeling, listening to Luna's heart slowing, but still pumping blood around her beautiful body. My vision is clear as its ever been as I stare down at the wound, two puncture marks torn into her skin, blood oozing. The work has already been done for me, and the liquid is being presented to me practically on a silver platter. My fingers are trembling, one brushing her hair back and the other keeping her head from rolling off of my lap, staining her cheek with my red fingerprints. Oh so incriminating. If she knew what I was thinking, she'd never forgive me, never trust me again, but it wouldn't matter if she was dead.

I shake my head, disrupting the intrusive thoughts that are trying to convince me to do something I don't really want to do, something I will never do. Now thinking clear, I quickly

"Feed." I hear a weak voice say, and this time not in my head.

I look over at Loki, slumped on the floor with a lazy expression, healing from where I had his heart clasped in my hand.

"Feed." He repeats "You know you want to."

My jaw tenses, doing all it can to keep my fangs inside of my mouth, because I'm terrified of what will happen if I open my mouth and give them free reign.

"Don't fight what your body is telling you to do, you don't have fangs for decoration, Zayn." Loki continues, coughing in between words "She's just a human, it doesn't matter."

His words, once pulling me into a trance, now snap me out of it. Luna is far from just a human. She is Lila's daughter, the future of the Ghost group, and she might just be the love of my life.

I look at him, admittedly scowling.

"Let her die, Zayn." He heaves a sigh, struggling to breath properly still "Let's be done with all of this bullshit, all of the fucking responsibilites. Who fucking cares anymore?"

He hasn't always been like this. Back when he was my brother, he was actually sensitive. He's always had a short temper, the same witty attitude that got him into so much trouble, but he was a compassionate soul, back when he was Lucas. I look at him now, volatile and boardering on evil, the monster I had a large hand in creating. I nicknamed him Loki, and he embraced it with open arms, though now he uses it as an excuse to opperate without a clear moral compass.

I remeber the day I gave it to him. I was sat in the den, carving a piece of wood with a small pocket knife I had acquired from one of the other boy's rooms.

Lucas walked in, much younger than he is now, obviously. He was wearing the same ragged black top and shorts that I had sown up countless times.

"Zayn, how about you say we raid the rooms tonight?" He asked, a troublesome smile on his face.

"We raided the rooms last night." I scoffed.