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Mud squelched under his leather boots as Grian ran for his life, Scar just behind him. The hunters were just around the corner. They barely had enough time to pull open the metallic gate of the graveyard, its paint chipping away. It groaned as it fell aside to welcome in the pair of vampires.
They ran into a graveyard, zigzagging through the tombstones before they ducked behind one each— Scar to the left, Grian to the right. Their eyes were locked and identical smiles were plastered on their faces. Despite the life-threatening situation they were in, it was quite fun to be chased. It gave a thrill, excitement, especially as they knew the hunters were terribly pathetic at their one job.
The gate creaked open once more followed by multiple footsteps, cautious and slow, as if they expected Scar and Grian to leap on them any second. While that would be extremely fun, that’s not what they wanted to do.
Grian could hear them walk past the rows of the cracked, weathered tombstones, he could feel their gaze travel across the graveyard. A guard stopped just one tombstone away from them, “Nothin’” he called out to his coworkers. How stupid of him. He didn’t even check all tombstones! What a careless mistake to make.
The chorus of footsteps faded away, and Grian finally stood up, brushing off the dirt that clung to his pants. Scar was at the fence on the other side, finger idly tracing the bars, leaving a clean trail in its wake as he swept the thin layer of dust away with his finger.
“Let’s go torment more people,” Grian whispered, voice faint and light, only intended for Scar’s ears. He looked up at him. He looked devilish, beautifully so. As the moon grew brighter, his sharp features were highlighted under the ghostly ray of light cast on him. His hair glowed, his eyes glinted with bloodlust, and his crooked smile simply captivated Grian.
“Sure! The Bdubs’ Bar would be very crowded right now, that’d be fun,” Scar clapped his hands and bounced on his heels with the excitement of a toddler showing his parents his new toy, “After you, though,” he stepped aside gracefully, vaguely waving towards the fence they had yet to cross.
“What a gentleman,” he playfully patted his cheek before heaving himself over the cool fence, landing in the berry-bearing bushes with little grace, disturbing the foliage, “Fence conquered,” he bowed as if he had achieved something truly spectacular and extraordinary.
Scar snickered and applauded, “Truly a remarkable display.” He swung one leg over the fence and was about to cross—
“Found them!” A gruff shout startled the two of them, following by a woosh as an arrow flew across the sky, piercing it in two as it made way for itself, nestling in Scar’s thigh.
Scar winced and let out a cry, falling on the other side of the fence, into Grian’s arms. Grian wrapped them tightly around Scar and dragged him into the heart of the woods they found themselves in, trying to get as far from the hunters as he could, as swiftly as he could.
Turns out they weren’t as pathetic as he thought they’d be.
He buried himself and Scar in a row of bushes, ignoring as the twigs and branches tore at them, scratching and scraping their skin. Holding their breath as they felt the piles of leave around them being disturbed and moved, they pressed themselves even closer to the ground, almost as if trying to merge in with the bushes.
They heard the footsteps retreat but waited for a good minute or two, avoiding a repeat of last time, before crawling out of the twigs. Grian wrapped his arm around Scar’s waist as he heaved him up— his right leg completely useless in supporting his weight. Golden ichor poured out of the wound where the arrow met skin, staining his black pants with yellow. He leaned against Grian for support. “Tormenting people can wait,” Grian said, “The city’s close, we can find shelter for you and I can patch you up.”
“Sure,” Scar replied nonchalantly, just the barest hint of pain straining his voice. Being a vampire increased his immunity towards injuries in comparison to being a mortal, but it still hurt, even if just a little bit, and it did render his leg futile.
With Grian supporting Scar, they trekked through the woods, weaving their way through the thick logs and ducking under branches too low. The night was silent save for the insects buzzing and leaves crunching under their footsteps.
“These hunters weren’t as dumb or stupid as I thought they were,” Scar finally said, “Though I don’t really appreciate them stabbing my leg with an arrow,” he huffed dramatically and gestured to his leg with one hand.
“Fair,” Grian hummed in response, the slightest smile tugging at his lips, “Oh, I see buildings up ahead. Looks like a neighbourhood. Nice.” And sure enough, many little houses were dotted at the foot of the slope they were on, all with identical peach-coloured roofs and creamy walls.
“So whose house do we crash in uninvited?” Scar grinned, flashing his fangs.
“The one on the right, at the very end. Wonder who lives there though,” Grian nodded with his head towards the house he mentioned.
“The poor guy will have to deal with us.”
Mumbo scrolled through the list of series on his TV, lazily sprawled across the couch. He wanted to sleep but he couldn’t, so instead he had decided on watching something until slumber eventually crept up to him. After minutes of indecisiveness, he finally settled on a space documentary, and let it play. It was actually quite interesting, if he had to say so himself, and instead of luring him to sleep, it only made him more active.
The doorbell rang.
He paused the documentary. Who could possibly be visiting him at 12:03am on a Sunday? It couldn’t be the few friends he had. They all slept quite early, because well, they had actual sleep schedules. He envied them for that sometimes.
Someone knocked on the door with such force that he leaped up and dashed towards it, mainly to check if it was about to fall off its hinges. He unlocked the door and pulled it open.
Two rather attractive people were standing outside. But something was wrong. The brown-haired man was leaning against the shorter, blonde man, and… his leg was pierced with an arrow and bleeding liquid gold? He blinked, once, twice, as he tried to make sense of whatever was going on with his leg.
The blonde man flashed him a grin that was all teeth, and that’s when Mumbo noticed it—fangs.
Two vampires had shown up outside his house.
Well, this wasn’t good.
Mumbo rubbed a hand down his face as he looked at his feet, trying to process everything. He looked back at the vampires who were only smiling at him as if they were just here for a friendly chitchat, but there was nothing friendly about vampires. They were cruel, heartless, bloodsucking and rather good looking creatures.
“Nice moustache!” The brown hair man pointed a finger gun at him and offered him a crooked smile, despite having a literal arrow buried deep in his flesh.
“Pardon?” Mumbo blinked, again.
“No, you do have a nice moustache,” the blonde agreed before shooting away the idea, “I’m Grian and this is Scar. Can we come in? I just need to heal my boyfriend and we’ll be out of your hair… if we feel like it.”
The last part was… ominous. Mumbo groaned and despite his mind telling him not to, he stepped aside for the two to walk in his home. Grian helped Scar lie on the couch, and kneeled at his injured leg.
Mumbo kept a good distance from them, staying close to the front door, in case they decided that he was their dinner for tonight. But he couldn’t deny he was curious to see how a vampire heals.
Grian wrapped his fingers around the arrow and plucked it out as if it was nothing. Neither Scar nor Grian looked affected, but Mumbo did flinch and wince.
He then rolled up the hem of Scar’s pants, and pulled out a vial of red liquid from… somewhere. Grian uncorked the bottle and let a few drops fall on his fingers. He rubbed those fingers on the rather nasty looking wound, letting it blend in with the fluid gold. “Here, drink up,” he handed the rest of the bottle to Scar who took it and slurped it down casually as if drinking water. To be fair, blood was the equivalent of water for their kind.
“Wow, um,” Mumbo cleared his throat, watching in awe as Scar’s wound begun to heal, skin stitching itself together and the gold that poured out fading away. “That’s cool.”
“I know!” Grian turned his head towards him, looking at him with excited blood-red eyes. Mumbo would declare them beautiful if they didn’t belong to such a predatory species, “But the rest of you humans declare it weird,” he pouted.
“Well… it is weird but uh, not in a bad way, you know?” Mumbo stammered, “Okay, so will you be out of my hair now? Do you feel like leaving?” He asked awkwardly, hoping he didn’t come across as rude.
“Is it okay with you if we can stay here the night?” Grian asked, though Mumbo suspected he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Besides it would be cool to house vampires, granted they didn’t slit his throat and feed on him. He’d probably not sleep tonight, just in case.
“Uh sure!” He laughed nervously, “Fine by me.” He sat on the couch opposite them, gripping the arm of it, knuckles whitening.
“Relax pretty boy, we aren’t going to suck your blood, or whatever,” Scar reassured him lazily, “Unless you want us to, give us a reason to, or until we feel hungry.”
He blushed at the nickname, words getting lost somewhere in his throat. He finally managed to speak, “I seriously hope you won’t feel hunger for the night, then.”
“Hm,” was all Scar said in response before flashing his fangs once more. Mumbo gulped.
“Is it okay if I… ask you guys questions?” He stammered out, picking up a piece of paper from his coffee table, and a pen. It would be nice to verify if the rumours and stereotypes about vampires were true, and to distract the pair from the fact they could murder him at any time they wished.
Grian looked at him curiously from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Scar idly stroking his blonde locks, “Sure!” He beamed at him, “Shoot your questions.”
“Is it true that vampires can not step in sunlight?”
Scar and Grian shared a glance, before erupting into laughter. Mumbo felt humiliated and confused.
“Not at all! In fact we’re out in the sun all the time. We just blend in so well nobody notices and thus they believe we never step out in daylight,” Grian chased away his confusions, “At night, we just get a bit more reckless and show our true selves.”
The thought that he probably interacted with vampires on a daily basis without realising it wasn’t particularly reassuring to Mumbo. Regardless he noted it down.
“And uh, garlic! Does garlic scare you away?” He asked, “Is it harmful for you?”
Scar let out an exaggerated and offended gasp, “Garlic? Harmful? Not in a million years! I love garlic,” he sighed dreamily.
“O-oh. So basically a lot of the common stereotypes are false?”
“Yep,” Grian said, emphasising the ‘p’, “All these concepts and ideas of us are created by your media. Some media portrays us as monsters, which isn’t entirely true. Some media portrays us as good looking, sexy flirts or whatever,” he cringed as he said that, “But that isn’t entirely true either.”
“So you’re telling me I’m not a good looking, sexy flirt?” Scar feigned a hurt expression, like one of a kicked puppy. Grian rolled his eyes, turned to look at him and gave him a playful shove, “I never said that.”
Mumbo stifled a snicker. Their relationship felt… genuine. It seemed like they actually cared for one another.
“Were you two ever human?” The final question he wanted to ask.
“Yeah…” Scar replied, his voice dipping into a whisper, “I got bitten and infected. I was immortal, Grian was not, and the idea that we’d be separated one day hurt so bad that he let me convert him. So now he’s stuck with me for eternity,” he ruffled Grian’s hair to punctuate his point.
“Oh. Does converting hurt?” Never mind, he still had another question.
“No, it actually feels good! Wanna experience it?” Grian smiled at him, looking ready to pounce on him.
“N-no thanks,” Mumbo dismissed the idea before it could escalate.
Just like that, the three of them exchanged questions, and surprisingly neither of the vampires intended to harm Mumbo which was quite a bit of a pleasant surprise for him.
The first ray of sunlight seeped into the room, as golden as vampire ichor, lightening up the floorboards closest to the window. The morning birds began their melodic song, and both Scar and Grian, on cue, stood up.
“You’re actually not bad! You’re a nice human,” Scar patted his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Grian nodded, “But we’ll be going now.”
“This isn’t the last you’ll see of us though,” Scar winked. The two walked out the door before Mumbo could even utter a farewell.
They did end up keeping their word by paying him regular visits, and with the time that passed, they got emotionally attached to him, and begun to actually like him. And Mumbo most admit, he liked having them as friends. He genuinely cared for them, and enjoyed their presence… maybe a bit too much. Maybe he felt more for them than he’d like to admit. Just maybe.