Archive of Our Own

It's cold.

All that Techno can think about is how cold it is.

It's cold, so he's cold, so it is cold.

That is all quite obvious, isn't it? Techno would hope that his last thoughts before he dies would be more insightful, or at least interesting. Something about the meaning of life, or how he got here, or even just about the logistics of death. There would at least be something of substance there to devote his last bits of whittling energy to, close to worthwhile.

But curled on his side, desperate to stick the the bits of heat still within him, Techno can think of nothing but the ever worsening cold. Snow piled around him, almost warm compared to the air, even in its sharp chill. Faint light shines down on him, dimming more and more with the cold.

Techno figures that once night properly falls, the cold will make its way into his heart and finally stop it up. It shall be cold…

Half frozen eyelids peeling apart, Techno takes in the dark walls all around. It's like a large, dome-like cave around him. Closed in, all but that one circular hole in the ceiling. Letting in little flakes of snow, falling against his face and hair, though he can't feel them.

That's probably not good. Neither is how blurry his eyes are. Too blurred to even take in the details that he swears are carved into the pillars all around the space.

If he could think about anything other than the cold, then he would probably find it odd. A stone room bigger and grander than anything he's ever seen, buried under the snow in an arctic plane.

There was a moment when, stumbling through the frozen wasteland, Techno thought he would be saved from the endless snow and cold. That he saw a glimmer of hope on the horizon, shaped like, somehow, the tower of a building. The first thing in the eternity of ice and snow and white that was a sign of life at all.

Techno had believed that he would reach it and it would save him. His shaking, numb as ice hand had reached out before himself, wishing if only to bring himself an inch closer.

Then the ground dropped below his feet.

He fell.

He hit the ground.

Cushioned by a pile of snow, or maybe just numbed to his core, it had barely hurt beyond the breath knocked from his lungs. His mouth fell open, empty and struggling to breathe anymore. The air burned in is mouth, refusing to pass through his throat, pure ice. His eyes too were pinned wide. Stuck watching clumps of snow drop down around him.

Now, off in the distance, just barely a glimmer of hope, that almost gone light from the hole which he fell through. It shines down on him still, little more than a pin prick.

When Techno is able to lift his hand and reach up towards it desperately, his whole limb tremoring, the tips of his fingers are nowhere close to brushing against it.

Far too far to ever reach. And anyway, it's too cold to try.

Dropping his hand back to his chest, Techno curls inwards further. It's hard to move that much, but the allure of holding onto any of his warmth left pushes him to crumple further. Like maybe he can just fold into his heart completely and disappear into the still struggling swaths of his hot blood.

Really, about now, it would probably be for the best. Probably less cold. Probably a better way to die than this slow drawn out way…

At least Techno made it further than he was supposed to. That's something. Techno would be proud if he had the capacity to feel things like that. Meant to die tied to a raft in the middle of the sea, dolled up in robes and jewelry and flowers for the sacrifice. He lived long enough through the dehydration and hypothermia of lapping ocean waters to get to the grand arctic wasteland beyond their home island. Managed to make fire with the raft and jewelry. Managed to melt snow for water. Managed to stumble, so close to that tower in the distance, that surely he'd have lived if he'd just made it to.

It's a shame and a testament that Techno will die here instead. All of that, lost to the cold. But so too is the guilt that he didn't really die in the sacrifice like he was supposed to, so his home might not even get the relief from the famine that they need.

Oh, well. Aside from the cold, it's all not so bad, really.

Drifting in and out, hazy, Techno doesn't hear when the irregular patter of snow dropping down the hole above him transitions to rhythmic tapping. Evenly timed, louder, like something of substance. And growing closer. It's almost like… footsteps echoing off of the stone.

Are they coming for him finally? Whoever is beyond all this, did they make it?

Will they be warm?

Eyes shining with frozen tears, Techno takes in the glittering, blurry scene before him. It's hard to see more than the broad strokes. The white ground, the gray walls that draw back into black shadows. Those black shadows that look deeper and deeper as the sun sets and his eyes adjust to the darkness just a little.

Almost like they're not actually shadows, but actually openings into more of the building.

As the footsteps grow close enough to almost hurt his sore ears and to make out the dragging of each step, Techno realizes that they're coming from behind him. That maybe, as a domed room, the opening doorway on this side is the same on the others. The same behind him.

That something is behind him. Coming closer.

The fog puffing before Techno's mouth grows thicker as his breathing increases. His muscles all clench, as something deep within him tries to roll over.

But aside from his eyes sliding to the side and a small whimper spilling out, his body doesn't move at all.

For the barest of moments, the footsteps slow.

Then, they break into loud, pounding bangs upon the ground. Running. Closer. Right there.

Techno's eyes slam shut as something hits him hard.

Another whine leaves his chest, but it's cut off as his throat is pinched roughly. Noise and air blocked from going in or out of him.

Except, as Techno is dragged off of the ground and the pinching grows stronger, it grows far sharper than a pinch should be. And brighter. And more painful.

Like he's being stabbed.

Writhing, Techno tries to grab control of his body back. It's all so far away, but the pain is plenty near. Seemingly, the only part of him that is. He screams, garbled by his tearing throat, and jerks all about. But arms wrap around his body and he is easily pinned still and completely subject to the hot pain sawing through him.

Hot. Hot like blood. His eyelids flutter open, downcast enough for him to take in the red spreading over his front.

Oh, blood. He's bleeding, down towards the big arms around him. Something is holding him and hurting him and, and—there's a squelching growling noise under his ear.

Something is biting him.

Little shards of ice fall from Techno's chin, unevenly flowing from his eyes. They drop with the little shakes of his body. Half him, half the thing shaking him.

Techno is crying. He guess that makes sense.

Darkness spills into him as the pain stretches out, a strange vibration making it all worse. Until, when Techno whines weakly, the teeth finally pull out of his neck. Wet and popping. Then, hot. More of the blood, and the mouth licking at it.

Almost too weak to notice, Techno drops to the ground once more. The snow burns against him, sticking the the slick blood on him. His heart pounds hard to all the places where his body is touching the outside world.

The adrenaline or the hot blood on his skin or just the fear, Techno feels more alive than he has in days. More alive than he has since he was tied down and shoved into the ocean, screaming and fighting. Shaking arms below him, he painstakingly rolls over onto his back, panting desperately. It takes all the energy left in his dwindling body, but he manages to d it.

His eyes are mostly cleared from the tears still flowing. But, eyelids pinned wide, he wishes they weren't.

There's a… thing.

A man, or it's the shape of one. All the right parts are there, but they're all so, so wrong.

Swathed in darkness and shadows, sharp features, pointed ears and fingers, glowing red eyes, and—and a bloody mouth full of daggers.

Guess that's who bit Techno. Ah.

Hand atremor, Techno just barely clamps it over the twisting pain on his neck. Pain bursting brighter, he gasps, then slips backwards into the gapping darkness.

Finally, it takes him.

—

It's warm.

Techno winces at the pain as he wakes up, breath hitching. But his fingers move through the tingling heat for the first time in a while. They still feel strange, half numb and burning, but he's able to move them again. Ice thawed enough to feel most of himself.

Scrunching his hands into fists, Techno is confused to find them close around cloth. Soft and pillowy, far more than his own uncomfortable ceremonial clothes. It's like rabbit's fur, but somehow a woven fabric.

His face twists at the realization as he rubs his fingers over the cloth again and again. It makes no sense, and neither does the warmth in general. Is this the peaceful afterlife he was supposed to find by sacrificing himself for his people?

But why does it hurt so damn much still?

His neck is throbbing and burning, made worse when he moves it. The rest of him feels wrung out like a wet rag, and left crumpled up on the floor. Aching, shivering, nauseous, thirsty. If he has to feel this way for all of eternity and all that he gets is a blanket out of it, he supposes that it's better than if he got no blanket, but it still sucks a lot.

The sound of a familiar crackling is enough to turn Techno's head towards it. The warmth hits him more solidly, waves off of a fire. Logs crackling in flames. That makes more sense. Somehow, he's found his way to a fire.

Hazily, Techno peels his eyes apart, eyelashes fluttering in the emanating heat. The yellow light of the flames stings them, his brain squeezing angrily to show that it is displeased. He squints harder, looking about the stone fireplace before him. Only a couple feet away from where he is tucked into what looks like a big pile of fabric. Blankets, quilts, something that appears to be a curtain.

Erase everything he said, this makes absolutely zero sense. How is all this out in the arctic? And how did Techno get here…?

In time with the thoughts, a far less innocuous creaking noise pricks his ears. The sound that can be nothing but something shifting behind him.

Someone.

Shakily, slowly, Techno presses his palms into the ground. He doesn't dare to breathe, doesn't dare to do anything that has the chance to snap the tension that he suddenly feels looming over him. Looming like a thing, a creature, a monster. His neck hurts and hurts.

All at once, Techno shoves himself up from the ground into a sit. All of his muscles scream and sear at it, but he ignores all of that in favor of whipping his head around. Eyes wide, already on the brink of flinching away.

And…

It is the monster that attacked him.

Cold water dashes through Techno, doubly painful when paired with the heat trying to eat its way back into him. That actually manages to make him freeze, gasping in a stutter. One of his arms comes up, blocking his face.

But despite that, the thing doesn't make a move. Not beyond lifting their chin, which—

In the warm light of the fire, they really do look like a person more than anything. Long blond hair spills over their shoulders, their nose is curved and their mouth is closed neutrally, they're sitting upon their knees.

Watching Techno.

He is sitting right outside the pile of blankets. Watching Techno. Certainly, having brought Techno here.

Embers dance around Techno in a plume as the fire behind him cracks a chunk of wood. They die before they land in his hair or the cloth, still warm. Techno shivers.

A strange vibration rises up from the man at that, which only serves to make Techno jolt some more. It is not too dissimilar from a growling animal. Though, no signs of aggression follow. Not from what Techno can tell.

Slowly, his arm droops from before his face, too tired. Still, the man just keeps sitting there, staring. It's creepy, but also… anticlimactic.

Techno shifts, uncomfortable. His hands find the blankets around him, squeezing nervously. Still, the man doesn't move.

Okay then.

Swallowing painfully, Techno clears his throat.

 "…Hello?" Techno croaks.

The man tilts his head at the word, like a bird considering some seeds. Though the man opens his mouth and moves it, no words actually come out. Techno frowns in confusion, only to flinch back as the man suddenly leans forwards. There's nowhere to actually go though, as Techno's hand slips onto the edge of the hot fireplace and he's forced to flinch back from that too.

Seemingly not noticing or caring, the man swipes his clawed fingers over Techno's face, over his lips specifically. Techno pinches his eyes shut at the sharp weapons being so near to him.

The man pulls back with a croon. And, belatedly, Techno realizes what he was looking at.

Speaking has caused Techno's lips to split open. The cold and dehydration, they're cracked deeply, digging into the corners. It seems of personal offense to the man before him, since his expression shifts for his lips to pull back in distaste.

Showing off his sharp teeth.

Ah, is there blood on Techno's lips? His heart picks up as he slaps his hand over his mouth, scooching closer to the fire despite the risk. What a grand freaking thing to set the man off: literally just saying hello. Way to go.

However, instead of lunging on Techno again, the man stands and steps back. Not that Techno drops his hand or moves this time. The last thing he wants is to provoke the man into attacking now that he has the proper leverage to really jump on him from up there.

With a short click, the man turns and heads off. Across the room and out the door.

It closes behind him with a thud. Techno blinks, hand slipping down from his mouth.

Huh…

Jolting, Techno scrambles to get up. Out of the blanket nest, even if it brings him unfortunately away from the fire. It's worth it to get the heck out of here, before that man or thing or whatever comes back for his blood!

A look around the room shows that it is stone, like the one that Techno fell into. But it's smaller and a normal square. Much like a bedroom really—dressers, chairs, paintings on the walls—aside from the fact that it is lacking a bed.

Instead, there's a carved and long wooden box against the center of one of the walls.

Techno has half a mind to check it out, completely clueless what could be the purpose of such a thing. He ignores it in favor of searching the room more closely. His eyes land on a shining pointed object, cast on the ground a bit away from the fire. It's long and metal, a poker for the fire perhaps. Techno's always used a stick, but this certainly works better than wood for the purposes of being a weapon.

His fingers do stick painfully when he picks up the poker, and a glance at them shows that his skin is red and swollen. On the brink of cracking open to wounds like his lips. Techno ignores them in favor of holding the poker to his chest while stumbling over to the door where the man disappeared.

It didn't seem like the man locked it. Maybe there's a chance that it's still open. That he can slip out and escape and, and—

Techno's mind doesn't dwell much on the what will happen after he's out of here. All he's worried about is getting away from the inhuman man before he's attacked again. A short touch to his neck shows that there's a sore wound pounding hotly across the skin, bumps and indents from clotted teeth marks. If the stains of blood down his front and the dizziness didn't give away that his memories of being bitten and drank from by that man are real, this certainly does.

Reaching the door, Techno immediately grabs the handle and tries to push the door open.

It does not budge.

The door handle turns, Techno was right that it isn't locked, but as though the door and frame are warped to be different sizes and have only been forced back together, it won't move.

He's trapped.

Panic alights inside him even further at the realization.

Which is pretty foolish considering that he was already trapped by the monstrous man. What's the difference between a locked door and one jammed shut? He's trapped either way.

Well, at least a locked door can theoretically open. Can the man even open this one? It appears properly stuck, wood swollen into misshapen stone. What if Techno is trapped in here to die?

Just like on the raft. Just like in the stone hole that he fell through. Trapped. Dying.

At least it's warm. And soft. It won't be as bad as dying out in the snow or at sea, surely. It can't be.

That doesn't feel like much of a comfort. Not when he's been an impious traitor already, fighting and running from his sacrificial role. Dying now doesn't feel any less scary than it did when he fell unconscious from the blood loss or trudging through the snow for ages or fighting to stay upon that horrible raft at sea.

Techno doesn't want to die.

Breathing quickly, he jumps as the door thumps like someone pulling on it. He raises the poker before himself more, equally afraid that the door won't open, or that it will and the man will be back.

Equally relieved when it jerkily swings open with a splitting sound.

The second that Techno sees those bright red eyes, he shoves the poker forwards. He'll just hurt the man enough to run away past him! Enough time to get back out into the snow where he can surely lose him to the snow and ice and, and—

Before the poker makes contact, the end of it is grabbed faster than Techno's eyes can track. He does watch as the man yanks on the weapon harshly, throwing it off to the side. It's pulled from Techno's hands as easily as a stick from a baby. Not before he's dragged along to fall to the ground, hitting it with enough force to hurt and make him yelp.

The man inhales audibly, before dropping down to Techno's level in an overly quick crouch, already reaching out. Techno scrambles backwards, trying to kick to absolutely no avail.

No trouble at all, since the dagger-like claws head straight for his face.

"I'm sorry! Please don't—" Techno says, voice breaking.

Palm meets his cheek.

Not a slap or a scratch, but grabbing and holding it. Holding all of him in place, keeping him from falling further to the floor, and pulling his face back towards the man.

Techno is reeling so much at the softness of skin on skin, still waiting for the pain, that he jumps when something is pressed to his lips.

He looks down with only his eyes, since his head is being kept still—at least enough that he doesn't want to risk spearing himself on the claws. The light isn't quite good enough to make out anything other than the fact that it is a ceramic bowl and in it is liquid.

Lips pressed together, Techno glances up at the man. He's staring straight at Techno, eyebrows furrowed, pupils quite big. A rolling noise leaves him as he presses the bowl insistently to Techno's lips.

Tentatively, Techno sniffs the contents inside. It doesn't smell like anything at all.

With shaky hands, Techno tries to take the bowl. Though the man doesn't relinquish his hold completely, it does let Techno control how he tips it in his mouth and takes in a very small amount.

It tastes like nothing too.

Water. Freezing cold.

Despite the almost painful temperature, Techno tips the bowl back and drinks it quickly. Reminded of his horrible thirst, it'd be easier to get him to turn the poker on himself than it would be to not drink it all. The little bits of melted snow that he's managed to drink without freezing himself from the inside out were nowhere near enough to make up for the days surrounded by salt water and nothing else. This feels like death, at least if he doesn't drown it with water.

Techno doesn't notice when the man lets go of the bowl so he can drink it as he pleases, head tipped back. A small streak of water escapes the corner of his mouth, burning from the chill of it on his damaged skin. He doesn't care, simply mourning the drop that got away.

Stagnating with the bowl still at his lips for a few seconds even when it's empty, Techno practically has to rend his guts out to lower it at all. And still, he looks down at it, as though checking that there really isn't any more.

A crooning noise makes Techno look up and clutch the bowl to his chest, as though there's anything to take away. But the man is just looking at him with a grimace. Particular interest paid to his lips again. What's wrong with them now?

 "Blue again…" The man murmurs.

His voice sounds strange. Broken up and brittle. Not too dissimilar from Techno's, though possibly even worse.

More pressingly, apparently the man can speak then.

"What?" Techno asks, blinking.

 "You're… blue again," The man says quietly, frowning. "Ah, the cold."

Before Techno can process that, he finds himself being pulled right off of the ground. Techno shouts, legs kicking on impulse. But it does absolutely nothing, as the man holds him easily, carrying him back over the blanket nest beside the fire. He fully lays Techno down before letting him go.

The crooning begins again as the man pulls some of the blankets up over Techno. Really, it doesn't feel much different than being tied down onto the raft by the much stronger adults. Just being tucked into bed, instead of choked by ropes.

Smoothing the blankets over Techno, tucking them in, the man only pulls back after Techno is once more buried in the warmth. Then… he goes back to watching.

Again, it's kind of creepy, but not exactly acute danger. Techno's heart eventually slows itself down some and he shifts to find a more comfortable position as opposed to the stiffness of expecting a hit. Admittedly, he is more warm again.

Though that just leaves him room to think about things. His confusion about the entire situation, uncertainty and fear and dread.

Why is Techno here? What is this man? Why is Techno still alive?

Breaking the silence seems stupid, but also he can't stand to just stagnate in this forever. Or even for five more minutes! His chest still hurts, even with his pulse lowering. The staring match is getting almost painful itself.

"Uh." Techno tries to sit up, but he is shoved back down and blankets retucked. Okay. "Who are you?"

It seems to take a few long seconds for the man to process the question, to the point that Techno thinks he's not going to answer at all.

"I'm the king," The man says, tilting his head.

"The king?" Techno asks, disbelief making its way into his voice on its own.

"Yes? Do you… not know your king?" The man asks.

"I don't have a king," Techno says. Then he hurries to clarify. "I mean, we just have elders where I'm from. I'm not from here."

"Not from here?" The man murmurs to himself.

He turns his head to the side as he does, finally looking away from Techno. Seemingly thinking, or looking around the space, or both. His face furrows and his eyes dart about.

The curtains flutter. Behind them is glass, completely blacked out. Snow, piled up over the entire building they're in.

Techno shivers.

Absently, the man leans forwards and tucks the blankets in more.

"Should I call you king then?" Techno asks.

What do you want from me?

"Oh, I suppose usually… But you're right, there doesn't seem to be anyone left… Has it really been so long…?" The man trails on.

"Uh," Techno says, blinking at the one sided conversation.

"Phil, is fine," The man says, looking back down at him. "What is yours?"

Phil? What a strange name.

"Techno."

"Hm."

Phil's face twists with a befuddled expression. Like this is something he's never heard before. Like Techno is nothing he's ever seen before.

It's how Techno feels about the other man, but that's a pretty different situation.

Speaking of which, well…

"Did you… bite me?" Techno asks tentatively.

"Oh, yes," Phil says, blinking a few times. Perhaps for the first time that Techno has seen. It's almost as though he is coming more alive as time passes. "I am a vampire."

"A what?" Techno asks, nose wrinkling.

"Do you… do humans not know about vampires anymore?" Phil asks, though seemingly half to himself.

"I don't know. Not where I come from," Techno says.

"I've truly been asleep an age," Phil mutters. "I'm like a human, but more."

"More… how?" Techno asks.

Phil squints his red eyes, sharp teeth poking out. "I cannot die. I live off of human life."

"Oh," Techno squeaks.

He clears his throat quickly and turns his eyes back up to the ceiling.

It's dark, only illuminated by licks of the fire. If the fire goes out, the room shall be pitch black, freezing cold, full of a vampire.

"Can I have more water?" Techno asks.

"It made you cold," Phil says, clicking in distaste.

"The water was very cold, but I still need it. I'll die without it," Techno says.

Surely Phil doesn't want him to die, not if he's doing all this. For what purpose? Techno doesn't know. But he is being kept alive for right now.

Aligning with that, Phil's face darkens alongside a strange hissing noise. Techno tugs the blankets up over his mouth, holding himself very still otherwise. But it makes Phil stand anyway, stepping back.

"You, stay," Phil orders firmly, a strange trilling in his tone.

Obediently, Techno nods.

Once more, Phil leaves very quickly. The door slams shut.

Techno immediately stands and takes off after him. A vampire, whatever that is, he does not want to stay here.

The door is closed, but not quite as tightly this time. When Techno pushes on it, it gives just a little.

He takes in a very deep breath before shoving his entire body against the thing. His bones jar painfully, a small whimper falling from his lips. But he throws himself against it again.

With this one, he tumbles right out of the open doorway, ending up half splayed on the floor. It's absolutely freezing, enough to bring all of the hair on his body to a stand. Little wisps of fog pour out of the room behind him, heat clashing with cold and dry.

Techno ignores it as he shoves up from the ground and takes off down the hall.

He's lived this long on the brink of death and in impossible situations. Surely he can keep that up now. As long as he gets away from the thing that eats human life.

Because, in the middle of the arctic, there are no humans.

Except for Techno.

The halls are freezing stone and quickly darkening, large and imposing and stretching out in all directions. Impossible for Techno to know where to go, but he's sure as heck going to try. Anything is better than letting himself lay down and die or give in to whatever will happen here.

When the hall has an opening into a smaller side passage, Techno turns down it immediately. Darkness envelopes him to the point that he can't even see his own hands in front of his face. Blindly, he stumbles on down the hall. He's forced to slow and lean against the wall as he does, just so that he won't fall from exhaustion and unbalance, but he keeps moving forwards.

Somehow, he crossed an entire sea to get here, to a land that his people have only heard of in stories. As Techno walks on into the freezing darkness of the grand structure buried beneath snow, he thinks about all those stories he's heard throughout his life.

A grand city of opulence where life was born. A pestilence that drained the life blood from the people. An endless snow that drove them all away—that masked their escape.

The remaining few, they found their island home, and would remember that sometimes even disasters have greater purposes.

Techno wonders what the famine that brought on his sacrifice to the sea is meant to do for them.

Shivering at a breeze that kicks up, Techno turns a corner and clumsily jogs down it. Only—

His body bounces off of something hard, crashing down to the ground. A small noise leaves him, but he's shocked dumb by the pain and suddenness of it. Crumpled to the floor, arms shaking as he tries to push himself up.

From the darkness, two lights emerge. Small, glowing, red.

Eyes.

With a gasp, Techno flips over onto his hands and knees and tries to claw away. It's senseless and stupid, but he does it anyway. Like his weak and damaged fingers, pawing at the ropes around him again and again until they finally frayed away.

Out in the ocean. Nowhere to go.

Hands close around Techno's ankles and yank him back.

Screaming, Techno flails as his body is pulled right off the ground. Upside down and swinging, he's instantly lost to the dizziness of it all. Though he still keeps trying to kick and squirm free, it's completely unsuccessful, and only serves to hurt himself further.

A growl vibrates through the air, lower and more chill inducing than what he's heard before. His body falls still on its own, feeling stuck through with ice. Like the teeth are back in his skin.

He doesn't recover, not even as he's hoisted up high and grabbed around the middle. He's still hanging upside down, legs falling over the vampire's shoulder and his fingers scrabbling uselessly.

Like Techno is nothing more than a stray pillow being dragged back to bed.

When they re-enter the room with the fireplace, the door is slammed shut firmer than ever behind them. It hurts Techno's head so bad that he can't help pressing his hands over his ears. Which puts him in all the better of a position to curl up when he's set back down on the blankets. He does so, covering his middle with his knees and his neck with his arms where his hands go over his head.

The noise simmers down slightly, but Phil is still hovering right over him. Almost palpably, Techno can feel the anger radiating off of him. He shivers harshly, curling up even more.

A hissing sound is suddenly cut off by croaky words. "Cold again. What did I say? Foolish."

Techno is very set on ignoring that, but it's forced out the window when Phil grabs his forearm and pulls it away from his head, pulling his body up with it. At the same time, he brings the ceramic bowl to Techno's lips, urging him to drink with furrowed focus on his face.

Less tentative than before, Techno opens his mouth to drink the water. Though he looks up at Phil with hesitance as he does, worried about what the vampire will do with his anger.

Which was the wrong thing to worry about. The water that pours into his mouth is scalding hot.

Crying out in pain, Techno shoves the bowl away from himself. Water spills over his front, littering burning pain over him there too, but it's not as bad as the direct contact with his mouth.

Phil makes a strange crooning noise, trying to pull him back, but Techno keeps writhing in pain. Worried that the burning water is going to be forced into his mouth again.

"No, it burns! Please don't!" Techno says.

"Burns? It's water," Phil says, loosening his hold on Techno's wrist.

"It's hot!" Techno squeaks.

"It was too cold before," Phil says.

He pulls Techno's face around enough to look at him, even when Techno is flinching down and trying to slip away. Once more, he examines Techno's lips. Looking over the trails of stinging pain now dripping over his lips where the water spilled, then down at Techno's shaking hand, burned by the splashing water.

"Red now. Too red. Dammit," Phil grumbles.

As though concepts between cold and hot just don't exist to him.

"What helps it?" Phil asks, leaning closer.

"…Water? Cold water," Techno says, pain making speech hard.

Phil scowls, eyeing the door, before looking back at him. Thinned features like some sort of serpent. Techno curls into himself, a shameful whine forced out of him. That only makes the vampire squint more, tilting his head to the side.

"You shall run off again," Phil says.

"N-no. I only—" Techno stumbles, wincing. "I need water. Humans need water."

"For what?" Phil asks.

"To drink or I'll die," Techno says.

"Humans are too fragile," Phil practically growls, a look on his face that Techno would call a pout if the circumstances were different.

All Techno can do is try no to wince, to whine, to cry. The pain and the fear goad each other on, everything so stark and dire. When he finally whimpers and clutches his hurting mouth, Phil growls.

"You must stay by the fire," Phil says.

His voice is dripping in threats as he grabs at Techno and one of the long curtains in the pile. 

"No, don't—" Techno flinches back, covering his face with shaking arms.

They'll be grabbed and yanked away. He'll be dragged down, tied up, killed in some awful torturous way. He can feel all the hands on him, his brother's screams in his ears as his fighting is easily overpowered.

He doesn't want it! He knows it's supposed to be an honor, but he doesn't want it!

As the seconds drag out, his own gasping breaths replacing the sounds and feelings, he peeks his eyes open. Phil is reaching out for him, but is frozen halfway. Watching with wide eyes and a lack of comprehension.

A stupid tear falls off of Techno's chin, stinging the burns there. He sniffles and curls in.

"…You're…afraid?" Phil eventually asks.

"You bit me!" Techno snaps. Then he coughs weakly, mouth searing angrily. "…You tried to kill me."

"Oh…" Phil says.

Oh? How is that the response? Like attempted murder usually isn't met with fear!

The befuddlement has Techno lowering his arms a bit, looking on in confusion.

"I was not trying to kill you," Phil says.

Techno scoffs. Apparently pulling the bandages off on being careful around the murderous human-eating vampire. Honestly, he might as well. No point tip toeing around before he dies.

"I was…" Phil's face furrows further, raised hands flicking out slightly. "I had been awoken after not being awake for a very long time and found myself drinking from you. Only when I fully awoke did I realize I was doing it, and so violently."

"You're saying you were sleeping?" Techno asks, disbelieving.

"Not sleeping. Vampires do not sleep. But it was as though I was under something and only came up when I had blood for the first time in forever," Phil says. "Then… Yes, you were dying. I brought you here to stop it."

Slowly, as though catching a fly within one's hand, Phil grabs Techno's hand. His skin is freezing cold, inhumanly smooth. It soothes the burning on Techno's hand where the skin is raised and red.

His knife-like claws press to his skin closely. Not breaking the surface, just barely.

"Why?" Techno asks quietly.

"You were too cold," Phil says.

His pupils are far too big, unmoving from where they're glued to Techno. Like they have been the whole time. Even in the dark halls, he found Techno in a mere minute. How much of that time was spent getting the water? Like it didn't even matter that Techno tried to run at all. Just that he got cold in the process.

The thought makes him shiver. Though his frown has him wincing.

Glancing to the side, Phil picks up the discarded bowl. There's a bit of water still at the bottom. Techno is tentative, flinching slightly, but he sticks his pinky into the bowl. It's cooled down to something near lukewarm.

"Is it not too hot? Is it enough?" Phil asks.

"For now. I'll need more soon," Techno says. He takes it and sips the contents, relieved at how it soothes the worst of his burns. "We need it throughout the day."

"How much?" Phil asks, eyebrows furrowing as he leans in.

"Around a gallon, just for drinking. But we also need some for bathing or if we're injured." Techno lifts his burned hand. It's only first degree, but still stinging. "Not to mention what's in food. We—we need food too."

"Food and water," Phil says, blinking. "And warmth, right?"

"Um." Techno nods haltingly.

A chirr rolls through Phil, considering more than anything. It ends in clicking. Not of the tongue, but at the back of the throat. Something inhuman. And upset, almost.

"I forgot. It's so sad, humans," Phil mutters.

"What?" Techno asks.

Phil reaches out the distance between them, laying his palm on Techno's neck. Right on the bite mark. Techno jumps, though it only hurts like a bruise being touched. Odd, considering the wound must've been bad. It does feel inflamed and warm, but not like a fresh and open wound. Partially healed already.

"You make warmth and blood. The one thing vampires cannot. But you're so fragile," Phil says.

"I'm not usually so fragile," Techno says, tilting his head away.

"No?"

"I was stuck on a raft in the ocean for days. And then here, I was lost in the wasteland out there. Anyone would die from those things."

Anyone but him. Somehow.

"Because there's no food or water. The cold," Phil says, frowning.

"Well, yes," Techno says, frowning back. "But…"

He's not sure what his protest is. It is true, of course. Humans need food, water, warmth, or else they die. But everyone does.

Except vampires, apparently. And when Phil says it, the sense of uncanniness and smallness floods Techno once more. He doesn't like it.

Like he's still just as vulnerable as that death he's been forced to face ever since he was chosen as his people's sacrifice.

"I remember now. All the humans died from the snow. It killed them all, and then I slowly stopped moving, and thinking," Phil muses, eyes flickering away for once.

Genuinely, Phil seems sad. Not just in the way that a monster who eats humans would be sad about all the food dying. Right? What did Phil say, that he's the king? This place does look like a castle, in a lot of ways. Buried under snow and empty now.

It used to be full of humans? Now they're all gone and Phil was alone for so long that his brain shutdown and he attacked Techno without even waking up—apparently.

Though… the memories of the stories rise back up in Techno. Could they be related? His home is apparently quite close to here. Just a few days by boat in the right conditions.

"I don't think they all died," Techno says in stops and starts.

Phil zeroes back in on him. Eyes cutting and bright, pupils narrowing some. Techno's shoulders come up, but he doesn't flinch away.

"Did you see more?" Phil asks.

"Not out here. But, where I come from, I think my people might lived here before the snow," Techno says.

"You came back?" Phil asks, something within him perking up.

"Not exactly. They… sent me here," Techno says, unable to admit that his people wanted him to die. Saying it makes it real, and Phil might get ideas about finishing it.

"They sent you to me?" Phil asks, voice curling around a chirping noise.

Techno's eyes widen and he raises his hands in surrender, a step away from shaking his head. But Phil grabs his hands, squeezing them and pulling closer.

"I didn't mean—"

"Food from me. Water from me. Fire from me." Phil brushes his fingers through Techno's hair, around to the back of his neck. For the first time, he notices that it isn't tangled and destroyed from salt water and cold like it was before. Someone's ran their fingers through it again and again until it falls in smooth curls down his back. "And you will be warm."

Finally, like Phil is giving it to something, he draws Techno in to his chest. His spine is held stiffly as his cheek pillows against the vampire's breastbone. Still, Phil wraps his arms around him tightly. The vibrations start up, right under Techno's ear.

Ah, it's purring.

The vampire is cold. But it's not the cloying type that comes from snow or ice or ocean waters. As Techno stays stuck in the hold, slowly, Phil seems to warm to the same temperature as him. It loosens Phil up more so he's not completely hard edges, and seems to urge him into petting the back of Techno's neck and back.

Fear and dread and exhaustion teeters within Techno. The realization that death might be able to be pushed back, but…

"I don't—I don't want you to bite me," Techno says, voice small and expecting to be tied down like when he pleaded to not be murdered before.

Phil croons, gentle and fully enveloping. He cups the edge of Techno's jaw without letting up the hug. The warmest part of his body, just about. Touching it makes Phil purr again.

"I made you afraid," Phil says, like a realization. Mourning drips into the words. "I'm sorry, my gift. It won't hurt anymore, though."

Techno shakes his head, trying to push back.

Phil doesn't let him, holding him tighter. He snakes one of Techno's arms out from between them, bringing it up. No matter how much Techno tries to squirm harder, breath hitching, he can't move an inch. Phil was right, he's simply more than human, than Techno.

Where the pink burns stick out of his sleeve, Phil presses a short apologetic kiss to it, still purring. Then, he digs his teeth in.

Techno gasps, trying to shove and kick away. Phil just pulls him closer, right into his lap. Embracing him completely as he bites his wrist. It hurts like knives digging in and Techno opens his mouth to scream.

Only for the pain to fade away. Not with unconsciousness, not this time. Phil barely drinks from his wrist, even as his pupils are pinpricks of hunger and he swallows any drops that escape around his teeth.

His wrist is lost to a mushy warmth. It spreads, sluggishly, all throughout him.

The tension in Techno's body slips away, leaving him only kept up by Phil's hold on him. He allows his head to flop forwards onto the vampire's shoulder. From there, he watches the teeth in his wrist, the strange tingling pouring down from the contact alongside heat. His fingers wiggle, but he can only see them, not feel them at all.

All of the pain in Techno's body fades away. All of the fear. All of the anger and sadness and grief.

Techno is only sleepy and warm, curled up in Phil's arms.

Smiling and purring, the vampire pulls his teeth free. Bright red blood drips free from the ring of wounds in the shape of teeth, but Phil licks it away. All strange soothing noises and vibrations. The warmth only spreads with it and the way that the wound stops up, still there, but unbleeding, unhurting.

Suddenly, for the first time since his death was sentenced, Techno isn't afraid of what is to come. How his fate is being held in the teeth of forces outside of his control.

Maybe he was supposed to come here. Maybe this is the sacrifice he's been gently handed to bless his people, the descendants of those who were forced away from their king…

Techno accepts it, finally. He stops fighting and closes his eyes.

Phil keeps holding him, warm and soft deep under the snow. It is a gentle end.

—

When, years later, another human is sent askew in the waters to the snowy deathbed, seeking his little brother who had been sent before him, he will find Techno tucked in a coffin.

Pink curls neat and long, sleep clothes clean and warm, expression calm and sleeping. And around him, with claws wrapped protectively about his body—kept just as small as when he was sent off by the venom—a sharp monster clings too. Holding his warmth near.