Chapter Seven (Walter)
This was really none of my business.
I don't know why I stayed behind outside of Hunter's room waiting for Peter. Probably because I felt bad when Hunter pretty much said he didn't want Peter to be there. I knew what it felt like to show up at home and hope your family was happy to see you, but instead, they cringed away from you. I had tried coming home for Thanksgiving this year, but I didn't even make it to the house. I went shopping to find something for my mom and I saw my brother at the same store.
He told me to go away. So I did. I wasn't going to go where I wasn't wanted. Even though I knew Adam didn't want me around, but he was the only one who didn't think I was insane. Well, him, Julian, and everyone else involved in this crazy vampire world.
Life had gotten complicated, and even worse now that Vladimir wasn't on our side.
I mean, I understood why he was pissy and wanted Daimonas dead. If we got rid of Daimonas, that'd be one big obstacle out of the way. Zephyra was hunting him, not us. Exactly, anyway. Vladimir and Alexander were hunting Daimonas. The guy was super powerful, apparently, but he had the mind of a two-year-old. If Zephyra got a hold of him again, they could use him to do something catastrophic. If Vlad and Alex got him, Daimonas would be killed. And everything up until now would have been wasted.
Personally, Daimonas wasn't that bad. He didn't bother me. He was weird, yeah, but it wasn't his fault he was a demonic parasite fighting his siblings to stay alive by finding a powerful host. And then it turns out he knows nothing about the world outside of Julian's head.
Yeah, but he had more innocence than the rest of us. Everyone was corrupted in their own way.
And I just happened to be a sociopath.
The sound of the bedroom clicking shut snapped me from my thoughts and I turned to see Peter coming out. He looked angry and hurt at the same time, eyes red from crying and his teeth clenched. I felt like I should've said something, but instead of trying to make him feel better, I just said,
"Adam told us to share a room." I deadpanned. Peter blinked, quickly wiping at his eye before casting me a suspicious stare.
"I don't trust you."
"And I don't trust you either, but I trust you more than I trust Vladimir and since we're both humans and Vladimir's a vampire, I think you'd be safer with me." I admitted, then shrugged. It was his fault if he wanted to get attacked in his sleep, alone. I walked past him and headed down the hallway to one of the rooms, and while I expected it, I was still mildly surprised to hear Peter's footsteps following me as I made my way to a guest room. I glanced up and down the hallways as Peter stopped beside me. I opened the door and came inside to see a large canopy bed, a red velvet sofa, a flat screen, and even a bathroom that connected.
"There's only one bed." Peter said. I gave him a droll stare, then looked away as I left the doorway and went to the sofa. I studied it for a moment before going to the bed and taking off one of the blankets and taking a pillow. I went to the sofa, dropped the pillow and blanket, then turned to Peter.
"I'll take the sofa." I replied. Peter stared at me for a second, looking surprised before he shrugged, then came in and shut the door. I turned my back to him and stripped my jacket off, tossing it over the back of the sofa and moving to take my shirt off.
"What're you doing?" Peter squeaked. I dropped my shirt, turning to stare at him.
"What do you think?"
"Well, I mean... Uh, never mind." He turned around and went to the bed. I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else as I turned back around and stripped my shirt off, tossing it onto my jacket. I ran a hand through my hair, pausing to stare at the television. I hadn't actually watched anything decent since my television was only a handful of local channels. Vladimir probably had a fancy package that I couldn't afford in my dreams.
I picked up the remote and turned it on, but kept the volume down as I listened to Peter moving around behind me at the bed. Then I heard it creak under his weight and for some reason, I felt the need to turn around, so I did. Peter was curling up in a tight little ball on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest. He'd taken of all his gear and left it on the nightstand by the bed.
His layers of leather, his belts of weapons, a few strap on compartments around his legs and in his boots that sat up against the nightstand. Heck, his wardrobe was almost like a smaller copy of Hunter's. He was just missing the goggles. Peter caught me staring and sat up, shooting me a dirty look.
"What?" He demanded. I shook my head and sat down on the sofa, propping my feet up on the glass coffee table.
"You seem to really admire your brother." I admitted as I mindlessly channel surfed. There was a short pause before Peter answered, surprising me with how quiet his voice was compared to his shrieking and hollering earlier.
"He's all I have left. After our parents... Uh, he took care of me. I was only four and he was eleven. The state sent us to live with our uncle."
"I take it your uncle wasn't such a swell guy."
"No. He was a drunk, but he was the only family out there that they could find. But Hunter always took care of me and made sure I had things to eat and made sure our uncle stayed away from me whenever he was drunk. He taught me how to fight."
"He doesn't seem to want you around." I told him flatly. Peter flinched and shifted uncomfortably, sitting up with his back against the headboard as he ran his fingers through his hair before tilting his head to look at the floor.
"He came up with some stupid excuse like he doesn't want our enemies using me as his weakness, cuz if something happened to me, he'd flip his shit and get us both killed, but he's not like that. Hunter never loses his cool." He explained firmly, looking over me. I let my eyes drift back to the television, but I wasn't even watching what was on the screen.
"Doesn't sound like a stupid excuse."
"Well, it is. Hunter's all I have left. If something were to happen..." He didn't finish. He didn't need to. As a person who'd purposely gone to Death's door and knocked on the door, I knew the sound of someone who wouldn't want to live anymore. Peter depended on his brother, I noticed. That was why Hunter abandoned him. He wanted Peter to grow up on his own, not cling to him, and yet, he was still doing it. He even let Peter call him once a week? Come on.
It sounded to me like Peter didn't want to grow up without Hunter holding his hand the whole way. I was beginning to understand Hunter's need to push Peter away. Peter was getting older. He wasn't a kid anymore and he couldn't chase Hunter around while he was busy doing his job-- whatever that job may be. Peter needed to learn to be on his own.
And yeah, the whole weakness thing made sense. If someone who was out to get Hunter found out about Peter, they'd grab him and lure Hunter in and kill them both. Hunter was saving both of their lives, and I had a feeling his whole cell phone call rule was because of Peter.
It was funny how pieces fell together after you found one out of five hundred.
"What about you," Peter spoke up, making me glance at him out the corner of my eye, "Do you have any siblings?"
"A brother."
"Do you... talk?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I don't recall asking for your psychological help." I answered and settled for a documentary on wolves. I tried to focus on what was being said, but Peter was staring at the back of my head, practically burning holes into my skull. And his question was starting to bother me.
Not everyone had a decent relationship with their sibling.
Peter worshipped the ground Hunter walked on, and while Hunter seemed to be thankful for that, he still didn't want to be leading Peter around. He was looking out for Peter's best interest.
My brother and I were never really close. He stuck to his friends and his girlfriend. He had a cupboard full of awards in our living room and a whole wall dedicated to him. I had the cupboard next to his. I stuck to my group of friends and I did stupid shit. It may have only been a year, but it was enough to hit me in the head and say "hey, what the fuck are you doing".
Because seriously, what was I doing?
I was taking out my anger on other people and while Julian and his friends still pissed me off from time to time, I came to realize it was because they were everything I wasn't. And I hated them for that. They didn't even notice me watching them. Hell, even Julian and Adam. Being vampires? That had to be awesome, sometimes, when you weren't being hunted by other vampires, of course.
But anyway, my brother and I were strangers. And the last thing he said to me was:
"Go away, Walt. You've done enough damage and the last thing mom needs is you showing up on her doorstep after five months of no phone calls. She's already broken up about dad. Just go away."
A divorce. A car accident. A huge hospital bill. That was what had happened after I ditched my family to go with Julian on his suicide mission. And at first, it bothered me.
My mother didn't listen to me when I told her about vampires. She instantly got scared and told my dad and my dad didn't want to help. He just wanted to beat the stupid out of me and hope it worked. My mom got me a therapist after they let me out of the institution after I was locked in for a couple weeks under observation. The therapist didn't listen to anything I told her.
The kid I bullied was a vampire. He had a demonic parasite living in his brain. His entire society of vampires was fighting a terrorists vampire group.
Actually, now that I thought about it, how could I have been so stupid? Of course no one would believe me. Who would? Where was the logic in any of this? But I guess, logic was something humans made up in order to explain the unexplainable, something to hide the greater powers in the world, something to make humans seem like the ultimate predator.
When in reality, humans were cattle.
There was always someone higher up. Always a head honcho.
"Are you going to go to sleep?" Peter asked after a while of silence. I didn't know how to answer that at first. I actually didn't sleep very well. I usually woke up in cold sweats because I kept dreaming of the way my wrists looked when I had slit them open. The sharp biting pain was there for a split second before the horror of what I'd done sank in and made them numb.
I had never seen so much red in my entire life. It wasn't bright red, like the movies, but a dark red. So dark and thick the way it slid over my arms and fell to the floor around me.
Yeah, that was why I hated falling asleep. I couldn't tell if it was a dream or a nightmare to me, to be able to actually die.
"I don't sleep much," I answered him at last as I paused to glance over my shoulder at him, "Did you want me to shut off the TV?" Peter hesitated, then shrugged and flopped back down on the bed. I turned away to stare at the screen as Peter shut out the lamp and plunged the room into darkness, save for the television. I watched the documentary for only a few minutes before my thoughts distracted me.
This mission to destroy Zephyra was probably going to get us killed.
And I found myself not caring. If I was dead, it wouldn't matter. It'd probably be the same as living now. Alone and in the dark. But Julian and Adam, well, Julian anyway, believed in reincarnation. So did Seth. Did that mean they'd come back? After how long? As whom? Would that happen to me or because I wasn't into reincarnation, I would end up in Hell?
My father told me I'd go to Hell. God didn't want people like me in Heaven. I had attempted suicide, I'd gone crazy, I was unfit for Paradise. He'd take one look at me and tell me to go to Hell, literally.
What was Hell like? Was it a fiery hot pit at the center of the earth?
Or was it as cold as Antarctica?
I suppose I'd find out sooner or later. And I'd probably go there alone.
Everyone else had a reason to be here. Julian was getting revenge on Zephyra for his mother. Adam was doing it for Julian, for the people he loved. Seth and Kipp were lending their friends a helping hand. Hunter was just trying to help people in general. A saint. A violent saint, anyway. Maybe like the archangel Michael.
And me?
I was here because I was hoping someone would kill me. Oh yeah, I did want to help Julian, don't get me wrong. It was awful what happened to his mother. She was an intelligent, strong woman that everyone in town admired. But if this was my chance to be wiped off the map permanently, I was going to take it.
Yeah, I was scared. I was naturally a coward. The thought of having the darkness cave in on me and never let me out was terrifying, but wasn't it the same existence I had now?
Probably.
Maybe.
I eventually shut the television off and moved to the bathroom to shower. The hot water didn't really do much to soothe me. It just scalded my face, my arms, my legs. It beat against my head, my chest, my palms as I held them up toward the water, watching them fill with water. I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut to swallow down the depression that was trying to resurface again.
No, that was a lie. You couldn't swallow depression and wait for it to disappear. Oh sure, sometimes it wasn't as bad. Sometimes I actually felt like maybe, just maybe I'd be able to do something with myself, but then it came back and reminded me how much of a loser I was.
I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower onto the plush rug just as the bathroom door opened and I looked up to see Peter walking in. He pulled up short when he saw me and his cheeks flushed instantly as he looked away, grabbing the door handle in a grip so tight that his knuckles turned white. Why was he always reacting like that? We were both guys. I'm pretty sure he saw a cock every time he showered too.
Unless.
Unless he was gay. In which case, his reaction made sense and while I probably should've embarrassed too, I wasn't. I just stood there, stark naked and dripping wet on the rug as Peter seemed to try and find anything else to stare at.
"Are you gay?" I asked at last. Peter flushed even further and his grip on the door handle tightened to the point where I was waiting for it to dent inwards.
"N-No. I mean, I dunno. I n-never thought about it."
"What do you mean you never thought about it? Haven't you ever gone on a date or something?"
"No."
"Are you kidding me."
"No," Peter exclaimed angrily, looking offended and he went to look back at me when he remembered why he wasn't looking in the first place and averted his eyes, "I never had the time! In case you've forgotten, my life is about killing vampires, not-not dating!" I said nothing to that because my eyes drifted down to see he was only wearing a snug pair of black boxer briefs that revealed a particularly hard bulge.
Actually, now that I got a good look at him in just his underwear, he wasn't as muscular or buff as Hunter. He was leaner and more slender, a bit like Julian. He also had an interesting sun tattoo on his inner right thigh. Intricately designed like something you'd find on an ancient artifact.
"Nice tat." I commented. Peter blinked and looked down, but he didn't notice his tattoo, just the fact that he had a hard-on. He flushed and used the door to hide behind, giving me a wary glare.
"That doesn't mean anything."
"I was talking about your tattoo."
"That doesn't mean anything either."
"You're awfully defensive."
"And you're just awful."
"Tell me something I don't know." I responded. Peter gave me a weird look, then shook his head and scowled at me before he jerked the door shut. I wasn't even sure why he walked in here, but I had a feeling he was going back to the room to take care of his problem. I shrugged it off, approaching the sink, completely naked to stare at the thick steam that coated the mirror.
Part of me wanted to reach out and wipe it off, but another part of me warned against it. There was no point in looking at my reflection. I always looked the same.
And that made me wonder why Peter would get hard looking at me anyway. Even if he was gay, there wasn't anything special about me at all. My skin was just lightly tanned, a surprisingly fact considering I spent my entire life indoors. My dark hair wasn't really soft or fluffy or cute or nice or anything. It was just plain brown and currently wet and dripping down the nape of my neck, slicked back from my face. A face that wasn't anything special. The typical American boy look and a dimple in my left cheek, but not the kind of dimple that would make girls giggle. Just a dimple.
Maybe it was just my cock. Maybe just seeing another one made him horny, or hell, maybe even the fact that he was embarrassed. There were people who could get off on being humiliated, and maybe Peter was just one of them. Good thing Hunter didn't know, otherwise, I had a feeling their relationship would get awkward.
I shook my head and grabbed a towel from a nearby cupboard to dry off. I pulled on a pair of pants before heading out into the bedroom to see that Peter had gone back to sleep. Whatever he came into the bathroom to do was long forgotten. He laid out on his side, his dark hair touseled against the pillow, bangs brushed across his face. And when I looked closer, I realized his eyelashes were pretty long. It made him almost look... Pretty, I guess. I mean, for a guy. He slept with his lips parted slightly like he was ready to speak, but only a gentle whoosh of air came out. He looked fast asleep, but his blankets had been pushed back, so he must have fallen asleep while waiting to use the bathroom.
I shrugged, more to myself, then took the blankets and tossed them over him again before I went to the sofa and sat down.
Even if Peter did like me-- No, even if someone, anyone, liked me, it wouldn't work. You couldn't date someone like me. Not when I wanted to die more than anything.
I sighed, closing my eyes and slumping down on the sofa, pulling the blanket up to my waist and rolling on my side to face the back of the sofa.
And that was exactly why I couldn't wait to get this show on the road.