|ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS gallery--EVEN THOSE BASED ON REAL PEOPLE--ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. ALL CELEBRITies ARE IMPERSONATED.....POORLY. THE FOLLOWING fanart CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT IT SHOULD NOT BE VIEWED BY ANYONE||
Thank you so much for putting up with this little experiment of mine. Feedback is greatly needed. Let me know the things I did right and the things I did wrong. Also, let me know if I should continue this. There are many other FOB songs to go through. If I get enough people who want the next part, I'll continue this. Again, thank you so much for reading this!
Young Blood Chronicles
Album One: Take This To Your Grave
Track 12: The Patron Saints Of Liars And Fakes
When Pete came to, he was in a hospital bed with IVs pumping blood into him and the sound of beeping. He caught murmuring of nurses from the hall saying something about malnutrition and loss of body control. There’s talk of master and slave and mind control.
Pete’s body jerks forward to sit up, but he’s restrained. His wrists have been bound tightly to the bed. He lets out panicky breaths until he realizes he isn’t alone.
Andy is sitting on the chair with the book close to his chest. When he sees Pete move, he gets up and pats his shoulder, “Relax, you’re in good hands.”
Pete’s eyes wonder around the room and he’s really upset when he doesn’t see Patrick. “Is he okay?” Pete asks, his voice drenched with worry.
“He’s in critical condition. Joe’s looking after him,” Andy frowns because he doesn’t want to add the fact Joe doesn’t want to be anywhere near Pete. “You took a lot of his blood,” Andy confirmed.
Pete looks exhausted and upset by those words. He sighs and looks away. How can any of them look at him anymore? They all saw him at his worst. Even if he did apologize, how could he possibly make it up to them. Everything’s gone to Hell. “Are you through with me?”
“I’m not giving up on you, if that’s what you’re saying,” Andy states.
“They’re going to take me away. They’re going to kill me. I impersonated a human as a vampire hunter,” Pete whispers with dread.
“As far as police know, you were bitten and injured during your rounds with Joe and Patrick,” Andy verifies.
“What?” Pete asks as if he couldn’t believe what Andy was saying.
“I called our leader and he informed the authorities about ‘what happened,’” Andy flexes his fingers around the quotations.
“So, what’s going to happen to me?” Pete asks, anxiety eating away at his gut.
Andy frowns and looks down at the book before handing it to Pete, “You’re being admitted into a rehabilitation clinic. You’ll stay there until they curb your cravings. After that, you’ll come back to us, but under strict watch and frequent sessions with a therapist.”
“You’re giving this to me after I hid it from you?” Pete asks with a sad undertone.
“You’ll need something to do while you’re in there. They said reading helps,” Andy forces a smile.
Pete opens the book, but sifts through the last couple pages. Stuffed inside were the letters Patrick had sent to his while he was away. He would hold onto every letter and find strength with them. When he looks to at Andy with tears welling up in his eyes, Andy gives him a quick wink and pats him on the shoulder again. “Do my old team proud and study up. You’ll have the time,” Andy chuckles.
Pete takes it a bit more serious though, “I will. I promise.” He wipes the tears away with the sleeve of his shirt and says, “About what really happened…”
Andy hushes him and shakes his head, “Take this to your grave. I’ll take it to mine.”
Pete breaks down because he deserves so much worse. He deserves the death penalty, but here he is getting a second chance. How can he apologize to Joe and Patrick, or even look them in the eye again. Will he be able to say sorry with a straight face?
The doors open to the smoldering office and the boss glances at a lone man walking in. From his attire, he could tell it was a Dandy. Although, he seemed different. Composed and confident.
“I heard you had a job opening,” the well dressed man says, lowering the brim of his top hat over his eyes. He has a full smile with an impressive pair of lips.
“I’m not hiring Dandies. The last one served me ill,” the boss announces with disgust.
“I thought you might say that,” the fancy man smirks and back flips onto the office table. He holds out a sword to the man’s face. After a moment of making his point, he sheathes the weapon and carefully peels his white gloves off. “Unlike William, I am a Special Vampire,” he states.
“I’m all ears,” the boss demands.
With a flick of the wrist, water sprays the furnace and the room actually feels manageable. The Dandy slips the gloves back on his hands and back flips off the desk, leaning against it instead. “I make hurricanes seem tamed, sir. And I’ve sped run missions in moments. I’m more than I seem,” he explains.
The boss looks as if he’s considering this. He shows no signs of budging until there’s that pearly white, fanged smile. “How fast?”
“Sit tight, I’m gunna need you to keep time,” the Dandy laughs and turns away quickly, the door slamming in his exit.
The furnace ignites again and the boss is left alone once more, chuckling at the thought. “When it all goes to Hell,” he murmurs to himself as the heat ignites his bones once more.
He will have Pete’s royal bloodline, one way or another.
Favourite genre of music: Classic Rock, Rock n Roll, Alternative, Emo, Punk, R&B.|
Favourite photographer: Mike
Favourite style of art: Cute and Twisted.
Operating System: MS paint, Pen and ink