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"I'll make sure to kill them for you..."
Scott jumped down the cliffside, turning into a flock of bats, too unbothered to walk it down. Being a vampire had many perks, but many weights too. He knew it all, having lived that long, the creeping coldness from being a bloodless being was one of them. It was barely noticeable most of the time, but in moments like these it clings onto your skin, consumes you, creeps into every crack of your own being.
He needed blood.
He wanted blood.
The warmth of the circling red liquid that humans had plentiful of. Not a good idea, definitely not. He might just kill the rest of them simply to be done and already kill Pyro and Owen. If the humans were dead, there be no need for them to get out of here alive. No need for keeping numbers if he ripped out the throats and be done with it.
Why did he even care?
Because after over 500 years there was suddenly a reason to not stay alive but to life. He wanted it, Scott wants.
He yearns.
Not only that, but he had a family not by blood...related, but by companionship. He had friends, people he cared for.
Ripped a gap into his vessel, into his self.
A deep ache pulled at his teeth and hands, he wanted to bite, a couple scratches, two stakes to the heart. A cow mowed. Scott looked just a second and the next he was devouring. Messy and cruel, the cow still half alive while Scott bit off the skin in chunks, buried his face in the flesh. He ate and ate and ate. Scott devoured every piece the cow gave him unwillingly.
Scott came back to his senses, he looked around for some kind of water. He saw a little sparkle of a small sliver of a small stream. Scott knelt and stared at the water.
His hair was a pink colour. His face and hands a much more grotesque red, so very clearly blood.
What a pitiful sight.
He looked like a desperate fledgling without a sire and suddenly Avid's face flashed in his mind, suddenly his sight blurred and he puked. The blood that was his food for millenia for longer than normal food, it made him puke. His guts refusing to take the nutrients. And the next time he looked up, he felt different. He stood up, and he took off, suddenly having one place in mind. For the first time in a long time he felt human, with feelings, a heart, blood, sickness.
Everything.
And he stopped.
Stood there in front of a pit.
In front of THE pit.
He didn't know how he knew where it was.
Scott slowly glided down. He landed on cobblestone and knew what was beneath him. He took his pickaxe, looked at it then at the stone and took the first swing. He lowered down the grave, and just as he had not hoped to see.
Avid...
Scott's cape uselessly around the lifeless body, but not a single scratch. The same can't be said to his clothes. Pyro and Owen didn't keep a single piece whole. Scott sat down, put the cobblestone back in place and sat there. He didn't care much if the other searched for him, he needed time. He observed his body with silent eyes, taking notice of every scratch.
Then he noticed a blitz of metal, it was a locked journal. Scott looked at it and put it in his bag.
After calming down enough, Scott took the red cape back and swapped it with his own black one. Then he took Avid's corpse and carried it to his grave, slowly. No powers, just his own legs ascending up the mountain and laying him down in the grass. Scott built the coffin and laid him down gently, sealing it and closing off the grave properly.
Scott brushed the dirt from his knees and teleported back to the castle unnoticed.
“EXACTLY, he only wanted it to live not because he wanted it, we were his last choice. That he was forgiven so easily for being so hostile.” Owen stood there, crossed arms with hate in his gaze.
“He realised he was wrong, and I didn't forgive him completely too, but I was ready to hear him out and so was Scott.”
“Oh, come off it, Scott only saw him as a pet, a lapdog to entertain you.”
“And how do you explain that Scott's not here, HES MOURNING.” Owen scoffed. “Oh, he's probably just boring himself.”
“AM I doing that, Owen?” He asked with faked curiosity.
Owen flinched at him, stared at the bloody red cape he was wearing. He started to stutter and find excuses.
“Oh, Scott, yo- you found him…” Shelby looked at him with so much empathy and heartbreak. He just nods. “Found his body, can show you his grave later when you want to mourn him.” Shelby nods.
“Scott, you… I-d look Scott, I didn't… a grave?…how when where-why” He paid Owen not much mind. “The cape…” Owen said, but that he also ignored and walked down to the crypt.
Scott descended to Avid's room, or rather Apo's, but that was secondary. He laid in Avid's room in Avid's bed, not sleeping, but just staying there till the next night. They will strike and Pyro, Owen as well, will fall. The humans will fall, and he's going away from here, he's leaving Oakhurst.
He'll live, he'll live for Avid, for he couldn't.
He was tired.
They were all tired.
Both the humans and the vampires were barely holding on.
So they compromised, some losses were there, some that could've been avoided.
The bloodshed was less than expected. Owen and Pyro were dead, Shelby had revenged Avid.
Owen had chosen something for himself in a long time in his undead live,
and well Martin and Ren were unfortunate victims.
Legundo died a good doctor.
He felt free, ready to leave, but one last talk with Avid was needed, he still had his book, but he wasn't sure what to do with it. A part of him wanted to read it, but the more annoying part of him that sounded like Drift and Shelby said to don't do it. So he let it be, Scott collected a bouquet, knelt down in front of Avid's grave.
“Avid, you've been a nuisance, have picked me out the moment you saw me, you were right begrudgingly, but you've shown me when push comes to shove you protect those you care about, and I'm happy to habe been one of those people to you. Especially did I love that you were always genuine with me. You showed me that an old bat like myself can still feel, I'll visit you as often as i can, rest easy Avid."
Scott laid down the bouquet and turned into a bat to fly to Shelby and Drift and walked into a new life.
Back at the grave, the flowers sunk into the wet dirt, slowly getting consumed by something, something slumbering in the dirt, ready to wake up any moment.