Chapter Text
One would ask: what’s it like living in a house full of vampires?
“Fucking exhasting” Is what the Host would say.
Long gone are the days of fear, whether or not the Host would survive the night was no longer a concern. Still, just because the mosquitoes he lives with don’t kill him, doesn’t mean they aren’t annoying pests.
Deep down, he knew he was apart of this “family” and was equal to the others, despite his human-like qualities. Besides, there was a strict No Killing/Mutilating rule Dark enforced onto the others. Only a fool would disobey that man, so no conflicts emerged. If anyone were to attempt to attack the Host, there would be a lot more blood spilled. And it definitely wouldn’t be his.
However, there were ways to get blood out of the Host without hurting a hair on his head. Through his eyes. Or specifically, those two empty, permanently bleeding sockets where his eyes should be. That’s why he still needed to take precautions.
He and his metal bat were practically attached at the hip. Sure, that weapon may hold some unwanted memories, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for a sense of security. At least he knew how to use it. He made sure to dress appropriately too, alongside his trenchcoat, he has also taken to wearing turtlenecks or scarves, no matter how hot it got.
Even the environment he surrounds himself with was vampire proof. While the scenery didn’t match his aesthetic, the Host managed to fill his library with as much natural sunlight as possible. Little naps in a sun filled room allowed him to be up like a light during the night. Of course, this was never enough. The Host needed to eat, afterall.
“Hey, Host~” Bim trailed after him while he was making some toast.
“Go away.”
“Aw~ Don’t be so cold, Host! We’re all friends here, right?”
“Yes, the Host supposes that is true.” He kept Bim away by poking his chest with his bat. “But friends do not use each other for food. Especially, if they want to use their friends for their blood.”
Bim pouted and dramatically sighed.”But you’re eating your food.” He pointed at the toaster. “Why can’t I eat my food?” He paused, then gasped loudly. “You don’t want me to starve, do you? Or do you want me to kill an innocent? I thought you didn’t like unnecessary death?”
If the Host could roll his eyes, he would. “Interrogations” like this were common, unfortunately. Maybe he should make some coffee to go with his breakfast. “The Host would argue that the people you kill are necessary deaths, you need blood to survive. The Host would not write a vampire character in a story and have them not kill anyone because they are innocent.”
Bim huffed, but had nothing to rebuttal with. He finally left while grumbling apologies. Now left to his own accord, the Host said narrations to himself. He nearly wanted to yell when he had to narrate: “the others crept around the corners, observing the Host.”
“Fucking christ…” He muttered. “The Host just wants to make some food. Can he not walk around for five minutes without being hunted down?” Was he like a dessert for vampires? He didn’t want to find out.
“We just wanted to see if you’re alright!” Dr. Iplier chimed in. “You always stay in your library so we got worried and thought you died.”
“You all are capable of literally smelling one’s heartbeat, even if it’s a heartbeat bunkered away in a library.” He walked closer to the doctor, ignoring the other’s eager reaction. “When was the last time any of you ate? It’s like you have not eaten in a century.”
“It has been: 7 days since the non-hunting vampires have eaten,” Google, one of the only other non-vampires, suddenly revealed. “And it has been: 5 days since the hunting vampires have eaten, excluding Dark and Wilford.”
All the vampires shifted awkwardly upon hearing the android’s statistics. The Host let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his temples. With all this stress and nonsense, he could feel his sockets bleeding more than usual. It was a vicious cycle.
“The Host sympathizes with his follow friends, but he will say how irresponsible it is to neglect such important cravings. You are all adults here, and should be held accountable as such,” He said sternly, harshly gripping his bat.”The Host will not be used as an easy food supply.”
He tensed up more when he heard a distinct ringing approaching. Everyone froze in place when Dark walked in the room.
“What are you all doing in the kitchen?” He glanced at the Host, then smiled knowingly. “Ah, I see. Hungry?”
Dark was only met with wide-eyed looks from the others. With a crack of his neck, his smile vanished and was replaced with a scowl. “You’re all lucky I found some food. If you’re willing to hunt tonight, follow me. I made plans.” And with that, Dark walked out the room. A few of the egos that could fight scampered after him.
The Host grabbed his plate of, now cold, toast and prepared to leave. He also grabbed a few snacks for the future, intent on staying in his library the whole day. The rest watched as he hastily walked out the kitchen, practically sensing his annoyance as well as they could smell the fresh blood staining his face. They exchanged guilty looks amongst each other.
The Host burst through his library’s doors. He basked momentarily in the warmth of the sunlight beaming through the windows. Or maybe he felt the warmth from the blood streaming down his face? He didn’t care.
His narrations were rushed through gritted teeth. No matter how long he’s lived here, he couldn’t get used to their infatuations. With a clean plate and a dirty face, he rummaged through the drawers in his office until he found some fresh bandages. The tedious process of cleaning his sockets was something he’s grown accustomed to. Though he still subconsciously cringed at the overwhelming metallic smell.
Besides the Host’s narrations, the room was quiet. No vampires, no troubles. Yet, he couldn’t shake off this feeling of annoyance. Instinctively, he began to set up his radio equipment and got a couple stories ready. Nothing like a live reading of thriller stories to help fix a bad mood! He cleared his throat and turned on his mic, prepared to escape from this manor, even if it’s just for a couple hours.
Just as the Host turned off his radio equipment, someone knocked on the library doors. He groaned and got up begrudgingly. As he made his way to the doors, he made an effort to audibly drag his bat across the floor. Thankfully, when he opened the door, he wasn’t met with a blood hungry ego. Instead a plate of food with a note attached sat on the ground. He picked up the note first and mumbled its contents, an apology note. In neat cursive letters, “We are sorry”, was written alongside various signatures from the other egos. On the back was a short message:
It appears that some of us have been unsuccessful in hunting lately. We apologize for causing you strife, we will not kill nor hurt you in any way. I am sure you know this already. If you experience more trouble from the others, report it to me immediately. I will deal with it accordingly.
-Dark
Well, that’s kinda nice. Kinda. The Host picked up the plate of food and snorted at what they made him. Blood sausages.