Chapter Text
Avid lay on the cold floor of the pit trap, glassy eyes staring blankly up at the stone ceiling they’d cornered him with. He felt his blood soaking through Scott’s clothes, the ones he’d scrounged up just a few mornings ago. What he didn’t feel was his life fading away, as he would’ve expected after being murdered. Instead he felt the scar on his neck burning, and a strange twinge pulling at the back of his mind, as if something, or someone else was in his head. He tried to move, confused as he was about what was happening to him, but all he could manage was a slight twitch of his finger.
He didn’t know how long he laid there before he faintly heard a sound coming from above him. Distant mutterings, whispers of rage under someone's breath. Then he heard the thud of heels landing softly on the blocks above him, and more curses as a corner of stone broke away to his left. No light poured in from the hole, and Avid could not make out who had come to presumably finish him off.
But when whoever it was jumped down into the small hole, they let out a choked sob, and Avid heard the rustle of fabric as they came over to kneel by his body. He felt cold fingers hesitantly brush his cheek before pulling away.
“I won’t let them get away with this,” he heard Scott hiss, his voice laced with more hatred than Avid had ever heard from the elder vampire.
Avid wanted to cry. He wanted to sit up and grab Scott and cry into his shoulder and feel Scott’s claws gently run through his hair while he whispered sharp promises of revenge to Avid. But he still couldn’t move, no matter how badly he tried.
Scott sat there for a few minutes longer. Then, ever so carefully, Avid listened to him readjust his position before gently sliding his hands under Avid’s cold, bloody body, lifting it up and clutching it to his chest. No tears fell from the older vampire’s dark eyes, nor did any air catch in his lungs, tight with anger and sadness. He simply stood up and walked over to the hole he had made earlier. Lunging out of the pit, Scott landed expertly on the stone steps above, balancing the weight of Avid’s body in his arms. Without being able to turn into a bat, Scott realised this was going to be a long walk. It didn’t matter. There was no way he would have let Avid’s body sit and rot at the bottom of that horrible hole that had already injured so many of the humans. No, Scott would make the long trek through the night, cradling Avid the whole way.
* * *
It was only once Scott laid Avid down near the cliff point that he realised what exactly it was that Scott was doing. The hole in the ground had been pre dug, and a piece of the Castle ruins had been carved into a simple but elegant headstone. Oh gods, Scott was going to bury him. Avid was about to be buried alive(?), again. Again he tried to move, do anything to show Scott that, despite everything, he was not, in fact, dead. He was so busy focusing on getting even just his finger to move again that he almost missed Scott leaning above him, a pained expression on his face, like he was deciding to do something that he really didn’t want to do. Then he leaned down, hand reaching towards Avid’s chest, no, the thing lodged in Avid’s chest. Scott gripped the wooden stake in his hand, and with a painful jerk, tore it from Avid’s heart.
There was an instant of pain, almost as if he had been staked again, but suddenly he wasn’t there anymore. When the stake came loose he felt the thing lingering at the back of his mind come rushing forward, filling his head and blocking his vision. And then he was back home. Back in the lab, Elle’s body lain on the floor, blood dried in a pool around her, a stake of her own protruding from her heart. Avid’s breath would’ve caught in his throat, if only he had been able to breathe– and if he’d actually been there and not seeing things in his head. But he wasn’t really there, he realised after trying to turn away from the gruesome scene and being unable to.
He didn’t want to see this again, didn’t want to have to look at what he had done in a moment of panic. He was going through the motions of justifying his past to himself (once again), when suddenly Elle’s body gave a jerk. Avid’s attention snapped to her as she suddenly sat up with a startled, pained gasp. He watched her take a few confused breaths, before looking at her hand. She was staring at the marks on her palm, two pinpricks between thumb and forefinger, and, more concerning, the black mark spreading from the bite.
Her attention was drawn away from the bite by a strange pulling at her chest. She looked down to see her green and white shirt ruined red with blood that had poured from a hole to her heart. A hole that was rapidly healing over. In but a few stunned seconds, nothing but a scar and the dried blood coating her clothes remained. Tears filled her eyes as she glanced up at the lab bench, though Avid didn’t know exactly why. He watched as Elle’s expression went from one of distress, to one of determination and she pushed herself up, making her way over to–
He didn’t see where, because suddenly he was back in Oakhurst, stuck in his broken, dead body. Scott had laid him in the grave, giving him only a narrow view of the sky framed by the pale leaves of the deadwood and Scott's anguished face. Scott, the terribly hot vampire he had initially hated so much. Had he hated him though? Or had he just hated the monster he’d assumed Scott to be based on his own biases? He didn’t have time to reflect on that line of thought though due to the fact that Scott had moved to grab a shovel. As the first plod of dirt landed heavily on top of him, flashbacks to the pit trap scared his mind and fear rose in his chest. His mind reeled as dirt covered his vision, the weight of it pressing down on all sides.
Eventually Scott finished, though Avid didn’t hear the muffled promise of revenge. In the matter of a few hours, Avid was right back where his death had started; buried in a hole, stuck in a body that wouldn’t move. Was this what death was like for vampires? He thought he’d read about them turning to dust should they be truly killed, but maybe that was just another inaccuracy in the long list of misinformation he’d thought to be true? But this didn’t seem anything like death to him, vampire or not. Even if he couldn’t move, he was very clearly still conscious, and unless he was some kind of ghost, he was pretty sure that meant he was still alive in some sense of the word. Now if only he could do something about it. . .
As he lay in his grave, Avid realised he now had plenty of time to reflect on the questions that had been nagging him. Like why did he kiss Scott at the beacon? He knew the answer to that one though, at least on a surface level. He liked Scott. Like, a lot. The real question here was why he liked Scott. Before coming to Oakhurst, he had hated vampires in their entirety. Or, at least what he’d perceived vampires to be. . . Once he got to know the people of Oakhurst though, after he talked with Shelby and learned that becoming a vampire doesn’t make you into a horrible, bloodthirsty monster. . . well, his perceptions had changed. A vampire, he’d come to realise, was not the vicious beast that had attacked him all those years ago. It wasn’t what Elle turned into either.
Elle.
Avid’s chest hurt at the thought of her. Despite what Scott had said, he felt tears build behind his closed eyes. What had happened to Elle? What had she become? If it wasn’t a vampire, was it the same thing that had gotten him? But that wouldn’t make sense, because he hadn’t gone feral after getting bit. He’d stayed himself. . . until recently that is.
He thought back to when Owen had first scratched him, and the strange feelings of violence and bloodlust that built up after. His memory went foggy after he went into the forest though, and while he dimly had a feeling that he’d done something, he couldn’t recall what; only that he’d come back to control with the bloodlust gone and a lot of beef in his bag.
The reminiscing of that day seemed to stir something in him. Something dark, questioning, consuming. Something very similar, Avid realised, to what he’d felt that day. He tried to poke at it mentally, trying to feel what it was. In response it filled his mind, like a dark night enclosing his thoughts, cutting him off from any sense of control he might have had. He started to panic as he felt it settle in, spreading through him. He felt a sharp pain from his neck and a painful pull in his chest.
Then he felt his fingers move, hand forming a tight fist. Claws dug into his palms, and Avid wanted to make a sharp cry of pain, but found that he was not, in fact, the one in control of his body. The shadow in his head seemed to laugh at him, a feeling of condescension emanating from it. His hand uncurled and it began digging them out of the grave. Luckily Scott–still a noble at heart, no matter how much he cared for Avid–hadn’t dug the grave tremendously deep, and the entity was able to make quick work of digging them out.
It had been early morning when Scott had buried Avid’s body, and it was now deep into the night as they clawed their way out of the hole. Oakhurst’s crimson moon was high in the sky, stars scattered across the red velvet darkness. Something stabbed into Avid’s foot as it pulled them into a stand. They looked down with a mix of pain and irritance, and saw a crushed black rose underfoot. Avid felt a spike of love at the care Scott had shown, but the entity did not care. It pulled the thorn from their foot with a scowl, and took in the surroundings. They were deep into the deadwoods on top of a cliff. Neither the Castle nor Town were visible, but they had some approximation of the direction they were probably in. At least, the entity did, Avid was a bit less confident in his navigational skills. It didn’t care about that though, already turning away, a destination of its own decided. It began to trudge through the forest away from Oakhurst, and, most concerningly to Avid, away from Scott and the few other friends he had.
Avid honestly wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. This thing that was in control of his body was walking away from everything he’d grown to know, and there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. It didn’t help that Avid was still quite shocked from the events of the day before, and being puppeted only proved to confuse his tired mind more. His worries froze though with the familiar dark vibe on the wind that came when a beacon was desecrated. It felt faint and far away, but the unmistakable tint of the Crypt Beacon would’ve sent a shiver down his spine. He pushed away unwanted memories of his death, but Owen’s final words to him still echoed in his head: “I meant what I said when I have a feeling people can’t escape from the person that they once were– and I think that applies to you too, Avid.”
What had he meant by that? Avid wondered, but he wasn’t too keen to try and figure it out. Just the hate-filled ramblings of a scorned old vampire he thought bitterly, though something doubtful twinged behind the thought. The entity didn’t seem to take notice of the beacon’s turning though, not even giving pause at the strange sense in the air. It just kept walking on, barely taking notice when the sun began to rise and burn at their skin.
Where was this thing going? What was it doing with his body? How did it even have control of his body? Avid’s thoughts were racing again as the thing piloted his body deeper into the forest and away from everything he had grown familiar with. He came to the (slightly delayed) realisation that he had to take control back of himself. He couldn’t just let some dark shadow thing possess him and drag his body off to who knows where to commit who knows what atrocities, he had to fight back! This, of course, was easier said than done. Mostly because, despite all his boasting about being a monster fighter, and the rush of power becoming an immortal vampire had given him, he still wasn’t really much of a fighter, (the events of the day before proved that well enough. . .)
He didn’t even know how to begin fighting something inside himself either. How were you supposed to fight a malevolent thought in your head? Ask it to please leave because you have to get back to your vampire family and warn them about Owen and Pyro? A harsh laugh pierced the otherwise still air of the deadwood, and Avid realised it was coming from himself. Inwardly, the darkness snickered at him, the cruel laugh echoing in his thoughts.
Poor, broken, Avid. Do you really wish to return to Oakhurst? What is there for you? Shelby and Drift? Scott? You know their care for you was out of pity, not friendship, right?
No, stop, that’s not–
And what do you think Owen would do if you showed up again? Do you think Pyro and him would be kinder a second time?
Well. . .
Of course you already know the town would just hunt you down, especially after you aided in burning their walls. After all you said about wanting to “protect this town”, and look what you do the moment you are given a sliver of power. A traitor and a maniac, that’s all they’ll see you as.
. . .
Where are we going then?
Ha! We? I am going to reunite with the other one. You, I suppose, are just along for the ride.
Hey, that’s not fair, this is my body you’re using!
You wouldn’t have been using it without me anyway, you died remember?
. . . Pyro and Owen really did kill me, then?
You think you could just live through being staked? The one thing that kills vampires permanently? You’re really not as educated as you claimed to be. Cleo was right, you are a liar at your core. No, you would have died had it not been for me.
The thing seemed quite proud of itself at that last point. Avid didn’t appreciate its smugness one bit, but what was he to do? For now, he decided, he would just go along with it. (Not that he had much choice in the matter for the moment.)
They walked in silence for a long while, the shadow focused on getting as far as it could, Avid dwelling in a small corner of his mind, mentally going through certainties; Owen and Pyro had killed him. Except he didn’t actually die. Because something inside him had taken control of him. Well, his body. He was still himself, on the inside. And uncertainties; what was the thing controlling him? Was it the thing from his childhood? Was it related to whatever got Elle? Was Elle alive?
The thing must’ve been listening to his stressed mind-ramblings because it gave an exasperated sigh and stopped walking.
I am not a thing, or an it, or however else you’ve referred to me as.
Oh, uh, I’m sorry– wait, no I’m not. I shouldn’t be sorry when you’ve literally taken over my life!
A little respect in return for keeping you alive–
Respect?! No way! You haven’t ‘kept me alive’, you’ve taken control of my body and pushed my conscious aside! This isn’t living!
Would you rather be dead in that pit?! Feelings of growing frustration were emanating from the shadow.
Well n–
THEN BE GRATEFUL YOU’RE STILL HERE AND SHUT U–
“NO, I WON’T!” Avid yelled, his own anger boiling over, voice echoing through the trees.
Wait. His voice. His words. That he had yelled through his own throat. Both of them paused, stunned into silence. Slowly, Avid sat down. His legs were stiff and sore after going from not moving for hours to non-stop walking through uneven forest. His own legs, that he was in control of. It was nearing midday now, and Avid simply watched as clouds slowly moved across the horizon, streaks of sunlight flittering through pale leaves. The thing inside had gotten over its brief confusion, and was growing restless, but having been pushed aside itself, there wasn’t much it could do beyond glower in the back of Avid’s thoughts.
Avid, on the other hand, was taking the moment to be still. He had been through. . . a lot over the past few days. Weeks, really. But he wasn’t ready to process it all yet. For now, he just needed to sit and slow down for a moment. He hadn’t had a chance to just rest and be still in a long time. Even if it was caused by being entirely overwhelmed, he would take broken silence over nothing.