Chapter Text
Legundo awoke with a start to the sound of screams. At first he’d thought they’d just been in his dream like they usually were, but then another shriek rang out into the night.
Legs ran.
He grabbed his medical bag and sprinted out into the night, into the woods on the outskirts of town. The screams had been replaced by a horrible panting whimpering sound as he grew closer.
Legs broke through the trees beside the lake to see a man lying on his back on the shore. A wooden stake protruded from his abdomen and blood pooled beneath him.
His long curly hair told Legs who this was immediately. Owen was lying on the ground, and he was hurt. Bad.
Legs didn’t think. He scooped up the vampire and sprinted off into the woods. He wasn’t far. He’d make it before the others came out to investigate.
Legs stumbled through the hidden door to his lab, trying not to jostle Owen’s limp form as the man let out a horrible noise. Legs set him on the bed that he’d spent many an evening passed out in after working through the night.
Legs took in the terrible injury, trying to figure out what to do. A stake was stabbed deeply into Owen’s gut, blood still spilling out around the edges. His mind raced. If he pulled the stake out the blood would pour out faster than he could stop it. He’d bleed out.
‘he’s a vampire,’ Legs reminded himself. ‘This kind of wound can’t kill him.’ But that knowledge didn’t stop the flashbacks, the faces spinning through his vision, the screams ringing in his ears. He shook his head. He had to focus on Owen.
Legs grabbed as much gauze and bandaging material as he could and held it beside the stake with one hand. With the other he grabbed the stake and pulled, pressing the gauze into the wound at the same time.
Owen screamed.
It was a sound Legs had heard before. The sound of a person in more pain than anyone could ever imagine. Usually that sound meant he couldn’t save them…
Legs banished the thought and focused on putting pressure on the wound as Owen’s screams turned into horrible gasping breaths. ‘Agonal,’ Legs thought. ‘He’s dying.’
Without thinking Legs shoved his hand toward Owen’s mouth. The vampire bit instinctively and Legs flinched as the teeth dug into his flesh. He tried not to think about the bite, the blood draining from him. He tried to focus on saving the man.
Legs began to feel weak. Black spots spun in his vision. He tried to pull away from Owen’s bite but the vampire held tight. Legs adjusted so his elbow was pressed on the wound and his hand was free, using it to pry Owen’s jaw open and release his wrist. Blood seeped from the bite but Legs ignored it, focusing again on the wound. The bleeding had slowed somewhat but there was still so much, too much. He rummaged in his medical bag, grabbing his needle and thread, and released his pressure on the injury.
The bleeding increased again as Legs quickly and neatly stitched the wound shut. Blood still seeped from it as Legs returned pressure, hoping that the vampire’s healing would kick in and stop the blood loss.
After what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes the bleeding slowed enough that Legs decided to bandage the wound instead of holding it like he had been. It was a challenge but he wrapped layer after layer of bandages over Owen’s abdomen, pulling them tight.
Blood pooled below the vampire, turning his clothes and the bed he laid on deep crimson. He’d lost so much blood. No human could survive that. But, of course, he was not human.
Legs sat by Owen’s bedside, barely moving, for three days. He hardly ate, just the few snacks he had stashed down here for his research sessions. He barely slept, only occasionally closing his eyes and being awoken by the nightmares after an hour or two.
On the third evening Owen stirred. He groaned and his eyes fluttered open, unfocused and confused. They widened when he saw Legs.
The vampire dragged himself back, scrambling away from the doctor before the horrible pain set in. He shrieked as Legs tried desperately to calm him.
“What did you DO to me?!” The vampire screamed as Legs stepped closer.
“I didn’t do anything,” Legs said, holding up his hands to show that he didn’t have anything to hurt him. “I found you in the woods, hurt. So I brought you here and patched you up.”
Owen’s hand flew to his abdomen, feeling the bandages wrapped around him and the warm blood beginning to seep through them. “How long?”
“You were asleep for three days.”
Owen hissed as his stomach throbbed, both from hunger and from the slowly healing injury.
“Owen, please lay back down, you’re reopening it.”
Owen glared at the doctor but obeyed, wincing as his position changed. “Why?”
“Because moving makes them scabbing crack?”
“No. Why did you do all this. For me.”
“Because you’re my friend, Owen,” Legs said with a sigh. “I couldn’t just leave you there for anyone to find you and finish you off!”
“But then there’d be one less vampire for you to worry about,” Owen pointed out.
Legs shrugged. “I wasn’t going to just let you die. Do no harm.”
Owen barked a laugh. “Doctor, I’ve done more harm than you could even imagine!”
Legs chuckled. “Can I tell you a story, Owen?” He continued before the vampire could even answer.
“Once there was a young man who was drafted into the military during the war. He was a gifted soldier, skilled in combat and in stealth.
One day his commanders pulled him aside, giving him a new mission. A large town and a battalion were locked in a siege, a bitter stalemate. Both sides had provisions and neither had backup.
They sent the soldier into the town with packets of powder.
‘Sprinkle this on their food and in their water,’ they said. ‘It will weaken them so we can take the city.’
So I— the soldier infiltrated the town and snuck into the main food supply, pouring the powder onto the food. He found their wells and springs and dumped powder into them. He didn’t notice the strange, acrid smell until it was done.
A week later the soldier saw the town again. People still patrolled the walls, but they looked different. Their stomachs were caved in, their eyes sunken.
After another week the soldiers entered the town, seeing lifeless bodies covering the roads and in the houses. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was seeing the bodies whose limbs had been cut off and finding the few survivors with a pot of boiled arms and legs. They’d been eating their companions, Owen. Eating them.
The soldier couldn’t fight after seeing that. So he trained as a medic to try to save lives. But he either lost them, they were too badly injured to save, or he patched them up and sent them right back out to the front lines to die.
The soldier, now medic, kept count of all of them. Twelve thousand, four hundred, and eighty-three men, women, and children that he killed or couldn’t save. Twelve thousand, four hundred and eighty-three people dead because of him.”
Legs looked at Owen. “Your two thousand is nothing compared to the atrocities I’ve committed.”
Owen just stared at the doctor. He’d had no idea. “That many?”
Legs nodded. “I counted. Every last body.”
Owen shook his head.
“So,” Legs continued, “you were worth saving. Your past does not define your future. You can do more good, offset the bad even if it doesn’t undo it. Help people instead of hurting them.”
Owen was silent, thinking. “I don’t know how. I don’t know how to help and I don’t know how to want to help.” He winced as his abdomen throbbed.
“You need to rest,” Legs told him. “Injuries like that don’t heal overnight.”
Owen nodded but then sighed. “I’m hungry, Legs,” he said softly.
Legs nodded and sat down beside the bed, back to the vampire. “Feed, then.” He knew Owen was too proud to take from his wrist again, not now. He heard the vampire shift and felt the fangs pierce his neck. He held still despite everything in him screaming for him to run.
Owen took as much blood as Legs could handle before releasing him. “Thank you.”
Legs stood shakily and collapsed into his chair. Dark spots hung in his vision. He felt that he might pass out any moment.
“Owen,” he said quietly, “stay here. Rest. You’re safe.” Then the darkness filled his vision and he fell unconscious.
Owen watched as the doctor’s head drooped. Thankfully he didn’t fall the chair; Owen didn’t think he could have done anything to stop it if he’d fallen. He lay in the bed, thinking about what had happened at the lake and about Leg’s story. Mostly about what legs had said.
Could he really be better? Could he really have a life worth saving? Legs obviously thought so, but Owen wasn’t so sure.
Legs woke the next day and was relieved to see Owen asleep in the cot. He checked his clock. It hadn’t been too long.
He stood and quietly began tinkering at his desk, flipping through his notes and pulling out bottles, trying new combinations of silver and holy water and medicinal plants. He was trying to find a cure, or at least something to help the vampires.
He turned as Owen stirred in his bed. They locked eyes and Legs smiled.
“Hey Owen. How are you feeling?”
The vampire grunted as he sat up. “Fine.”
Legs knew that wasn’t true but he didn’t push it. “That’s good. I can go grab some food if you’d like.”
Owen nodded and Legs slipped out of the hidden door. He had a small hidden chicken farm near the lab, so he stepped into the coop and grabbed a few chickens, tucking them under his arms and holding them tightly as they clucked softly. He carried the birds, five total, back to the lab. He was relieved to see that Owen was still there. Every time he turned his back he worried that the vampire would leave.
“Here,” Legs said, tossing one of the chickens towards Owen. Its wings flapped but didn’t do much to change its course or stop its fall. Owen snagged the bird from midair and snapped its neck in an instant before digging his fangs into it. Legs didn’t need to watch that, so he stepped into the small storage room of the lab and released the other chickens into it. It would be good to have a supply.
Legs re-entered the lab just as Owen finished his meal, tossing the chicken’s drained body aside. Legs shuddered, knowing the vampire was just as capable of doing that to him. But he had to trust Owen. He hadn’t hurt him so far.
Legs disposed of the chicken before returning to Owen.
“Thanks doc,” the vampire said, blood staining his fangs a deep red.
“Of course.”
“How much longer do I have to stay here?” Owen asked.
“Well I’m not trapping you here,” Legs said, “but I’d prefer you stay for about three more days to allow that wound time to heal. It’s very deep.”
Owen nodded. “Okay.” He looked around. “What have you been doing down here?”
“Trying to find a cure. For vampirism.”
“You really think it’s possible?”
“I do; at least I hope so. I can’t know for sure.”
“Holy water, silver, herbs?” Owen said as he looked around at the various bottles and brews. “That won’t do much. Just make us weaker for a bit.”
Legs sighed. “I know. I just don’t know what else to do.”
“There is no real cure,” Owen said. “We’re stuck like this until someone kills us.”
Legs shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”
“Scott does, and he’s been around here far longer than me. He’s seen people search and fail his whole life.”
“He’s also been asleep for 600 years,” Legs pointed out. “Humans have come a long way in that time.”
Owen shrugged. “I can’t stop you from looking. But I doubt this affliction can be fixed without a stake to the heart.”
Legs sighed but nodded. “I’ll keep looking. I can’t just give up on you, all of you. There has to be something I can do.”
“Waste your time for as long as you want.”