Band of Brothers Imagines

Horror Stories and Fairytales - Ronald Speirs x Reader

"Come on, Malark, you can't seriously expect me to believe that he'd kill one of his own men?" You looked at your foxhole buddy in disbelief. You were dug in somewhere near Carentan, and as the night had fallen upon you, Malarkey decided to entertain you with stories of the now infamous Ronald Speirs.

"Hey, I'm just passing on what I've heard. But he definitely killed those prisoners, that I saw," Malarkey looked like he held the key to all knowledge in his hand.

"But did you actually see it?" Before Malarkey could answer, you both heard a twig snap near your foxhole. Malarkey signalled to you, and you both readied your guns, unsure if it was a fellow paratrooper or a German lurking nearby.

"Flash," Malarkey whispered loudly. It was only a second before the response came, but it was filled with tension and apprehension. The darkness that was once a comfort as it halted the hard fighting of the day now felt eerie and full of horrors.

"Thunder," came the nonchalant reply, as none other than Speirs strolled into view.

"Sir," Malarkey greeted him, and Speirs nodded.

"Sergeant. Private," his gaze was now on you and you withered slightly. He was very attractive, in a wild sort of a way. His eyes held such a depth you'd never seen in anyone before, and it almost hurt to hold his gaze, and yet you somehow couldn't bring yourself to look away.

"Spot me a minute, sir?" Malarkey asked.

"Sure, sergeant. Take your time," Speirs slid into the foxhole as Malarkey clambered out, searching in the darkness for a tree to relieve himself against. You felt your heart beating harder in your chest, with Speirs so close to you. You'd seen him around ever since Toccoa, but you'd never been brave enough to speak to him.

"It's Y/N, right?" He held out a cigarette carton and you shook your head.

"How did you know?" You managed to squeak out, and you internally cursed your voice for betraying your nervousness as you watched Speirs light his cigarette. He just shrugged, signalling his refusal to respond to your question, and his puffs of smoke were lost in the darkness as you just looked at each other for a few moments.

"I heard the stories Sergeant Malarkey was telling you. Do you believe him?" Speirs' gaze was still boring into you, as if searching your soul for your innermost secrets. You had no doubt that if he really wanted to, he'd be able to find them.

You floundered for a moment, not knowing how to respond.

"I... I don't know," you confessed. To your intense surprise, Speirs smiled. On the surface, it wasn't a nice smile, it was the smile of a shark just before it pounces on its prey. But his eyes held a certain and unexpected warmth that you found strangely comforting. "Are they true?" If it was possible, your heart was pounding even faster and you cursed your moment of bravery as you noticed his eyes darken for a moment, like a flash of something else inside of him.

"Were the stories about Tercius true?" He retorted.

"Who's Tercius?" Speirs was without doubt the most confusing man you'd ever met, but that somehow made him even more attractive to you. He just grinned again and stayed silent, again refusing to elaborate.

"Do you want to hear a real horror story?" You knew whatever Speirs was about to tell you would frighten you out of your wits, but at this point you were willing to do pretty much anything to keep him in that foxhole just a little longer, having him so close to you.

"Sure," you nodded, and tried your hardest not to look intimidated.

"The amphibious existence of the vampire is sustained by daily renewed slumber in the grave. Its horrible lust for living blood supplies the vigour of its waking existence. The vampire is prone to be fascinated with an engrossing vehemence, resembling the passion of love, by particular persons. It will never desist until it has satiated its passion, and drained the very life of its coveted victim. And that's how Carmilla felt about Laura." Your heart sank upon hearing Speirs talking about vampires. It was irrational to be afraid of something that didn't even exist, but nevertheless you were terrified. You internally cursed Malarkey, who'd clearly been blabbing to anyone who would listen how scared you were when you read the battered copy of Dracula that was being passed around the company.

Before Speirs could continue, a flash lit up the sky. For a moment, you thought battle was about to commence, but it was just lightning. The dark clouds above began dropping their loads, heavy rainfall soaking you almost instantaneously. In a tender moment that surprised you more than anything else he'd done, Speirs pulled you closer and draped a blanket over your two huddled forms, in an effort to keep the wet at bay.

"This young girl, Laura, invites Carmilla, a stranger, into her home. This newcomer looks like a spectre that had haunted her dreams, but their relationship soon becomes close and intense. But at the same time, young unmarried women all over the county are afflicted by some mysterious illness and they all die. Laura herself falls prey to this illness."

"Well, what happened?" You asked breathlessly, the air around you feeling heavy and thick, and not because of the storm raging above you.

"A man who lost his niece to this strange illness comes to visit Laura's father. He believes in vampires, and is hunting for Carmilla. Now she's been exposed, Carmilla flees, but eventually the two men find her and drive a stake into her heart. Laura didn't die, but she was haunted by thoughts of Carmilla for the rest of her short life."

After Speirs had finished speaking, silence enveloped you both, the only noises being the pitter-patter of the rainfall and your heavy breathing.

"Where the fuck did you get that from?" was all you could think to say.

"I got it from a book," Speirs confessed, shrugging. He was smiling again, but it was a kinder, warmer smile than before, one that matched his eyes.

"And why on earth did you tell me that? Other than to scare me? Or was it just to scare me?" You weren't sure why, but you were nervous for Speirs' response.

"Maybe I just wanted you to hold my hand," he looked smug. You were momentarily confused, but then you looked down at your intertwined hands and realised that in your fright you'd grabbed his hand without even realising.

"I see," you tried to affect an air of indifference, but you knew it was pointless, as Speirs could clearly see your every thought. Your faces were just a couple of inches apart, and you felt your heads moving closer to each other, your lips eventually ghosting against his. Before anything further could happen, you heard heavy footsteps coming towards you, and Malarkey calling the password. Speirs wordlessly wrapped the blanket around you and hurriedly left, leaving you to gaze diggers at a clueless Malarkey.