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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/OriontheGuyMan on 2026-05-24 04:54:48+00:00.

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Content Warning: Implied Abuse. Self Harm.

I smelled the blood at around 11 at night. I saw the light spilling out through the bottom of the bathroom door in a thin line. Carrie. My father was right, I thought. I shouldn’t be here, I thought.

I felt like someone else had seized onto my body as I sat up on the couch. My legs worked on their own as I stood up and walked towards the door, my mind screaming.

My hand reached out towards the doorknob as every synapse in my brain within my control screamed to stop. A single tear slipped down from my cheek as I felt the cool faux brass knob against my fingertips. Please be locked. It wasn’t.

It turned. I heard everything go quite inside the bathroom. The hinges shrieked as the door opened. Slowly beyond the wooden confines of the door, I could see clear the picture of the dimly lit, cramped apartment bathroom.

Carrie was sitting in there, razor in hand, horizontal marks up and down her arms. Blood dripped from her forearm. My heart sank.

I stepped in. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you knock?” she asked, tears forming as her panic grew. “Alex, please, say something.”

I stepped closer, my feet making contact with the mat in front of the sink. “Please, say something!” She put her elbows up on her knees and held her face in her hands. I heard her start to sob. “You probably think I’m a psycho, don’t you?” She cried harder.

Say something, Alex! Anything! Don’t do this! All those thoughts played in my head so loud I almost couldn’t hear the pounding of my heart or the sounds of her tears.

I stood over her. She looked up at me. Her hair was a mess. Her makeup was running down her face. The hunger was immense. The blood made my mouth water, but there was something else beginning to build in me. Something far stronger.

I loomed over her, and sunk down, wrapping myself around her.

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed. I could feel her pulse, her heart racing. Blood, fresh blood pumping in her veins. The other feeling grew stronger.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. You aren’t a psycho, or a freak, or anything else that you want to call yourself, so don’t ever say that.”

I felt her arms around me. “I’m sorry I never noticed how much you were hurting,” I said. I felt the blood on her arms soak into my shirt. I didn’t care. The hunger was gone.

I held her for a while, letting her cry in my arms. Eventually she wiped her tears as we moved to the living room couch. I wasn’t really sure what to say, or if I should say anything. I didn’t have to, because she started.

“You are the first person since my mom died who has been nice to me. Dad treated me like shit. Mark… well…” she didn’t expand on that, and I didn’t press. She could tell me when she wanted to, if at all. I figured he had something to do with why she disliked being touched. I wanted to kill him.

Could I go back again if I did kill him? I wondered.

“I saw mom die,” she said. “I never told anyone. They wouldn’t believe me, I’m sure. I think that messed me up more than anything either of them did.”

I leaned in and listened close. “I’m sorry. Did you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know if you’d believe me.” Her voice was a little shaky.

“I think my capacity for doubt has long been nonexistent at this point,” I said, which I could not qualify with the fact that I was a vampire about to hunt down another vampire who participated in the Hundred Years War in the 15th century. There wasn’t much anyone could tell me that would be too fantastical to believe.

“I was looking out the window during first period. The sun still hadn’t reached up over the buildings, so shadows were falling between the councilor’s office building and the main building. I forgot my lunch in the car. I could see mom walking down the sidewalk with my lunchbox in her hand. I saw someone come out from the shadow of the corner of the building. He was wearing a hoodie. His hands were in his pockets. He jumped on her and…” She started to hyperventilate.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to finish.”

“No, I need someone to hear this. He bit her, Alex! He fucking bit her!” She started crying.

I was hesitant to ask her what the man looked like but did anyway. Under the shade of the school. His hood had fallen, so she got a good look at him. I had expected Renaud, but the details of his hair, of his stubble, of his eyes. It was my dad.

I stared at her for a moment. “You don’t believe me, do you?” she said, tears forming once more.

“I believe you.” I said to her. “I’ve got a story of my own that I don’t know if you’ll believe.” So, I told her. I told her everything. She sat there, listening. I could see her face shift from horror, to sorrow, to sympathy. I told her who I thought killed her mother. She looked confused, but I think she understood. When I finished, we stared at each other for a minute.

“I understand if you aren’t comfortable having me around,” I said, diverting my gaze to the floor. It would be safer for her if I disappeared. That’s what I should have done at the start.

“Why would I want that?” Her words surprised me. “You aren’t your father, and I’m not mine. Alex, I need you here.” I looked up and saw her. She was looking at me in a way that I was totally unaccustomed to. I felt her hand touch mine, her fingers wrapping around my palm.

“There’s one more thing I need to tell you,” I said, unable to look at her. “I’m going to kill that old man tonight. I don’t know if you’ll see me again.”

Her eyebrows tilted as she squeezed my hand tighter. “Don’t say that, please. You have to make it back. I can’t do this without you.” Her words made me feel a twinge of guilt in my gut, but my mind could not be changed. I stood up. “Don’t go…” she said, her voice trailing a little as she watched me head towards the door.

I opened the front door. “I’m sorry.” I turned towards her. “I want you to know you’ve always been special to me, and I hope that I can make it back to you. I hope that more than anything in the world.”

“Don’t…” she called out as I shut the door behind me.

I hoped that we were not too late to save Rachel as I drove to the church. The thought of leaving her alone with that creep had made me nauseous, but ultimately Peter was right. The old man had been waiting for over six hundred years for this, and that was six hundred years of experience in killing that neither I nor Peter had.

I pulled into the church parking lot. Peter was beside his silver Honda, an extra flashlight in hand. “What even are those?” I asked, having felt their wrath enough without ever knowing why.

“Anti-bacterial UV light,” Peter said, wiping the lens of the flashlight as he looked up at me, not turning his head. “They emit a wavelength of UV entirely blocked by the atmosphere. They hit way harder than the old standard UV lights we used to use too. The one good thing to come out of Covid was these becoming way more common. I think you’re the first vampire I’ve used it on. Lucky you.”

I had to disagree with his measure for what constituted as luck. He handed me a UV light and a crossbow. He then handed me a quiver, which I put on my back. He shifted it to my hip. “That’s some movie stuff. It goes here,” he said, patting the quiver. “One more thing.” He produced a wooden stake. The tip was incredibly sharp. “Hardened by fire. It should do the trick.” He smiled at me. “I wish we had met under different circumstances, Alex. I would have loved to have shown you the ropes.”

“Yeah…” I said, between agreement and disagreement. The man had tried to kill me, many times at that, but I had trouble faulting him for it. I had been a danger, whether I wanted to admit it or not. I wouldn’t kill him, no matter what happened. I made that determination then and there. I’d live on animal blood. The only one I’d kill would be that old bastard Renaud.

He had me enter his car, which would be something I would never consider in any other circumstance. I imagined it was to keep my options limited after all this was over. So be it, I thought.

I pointed towards each street and turn. As I did, something black flickered in the rearview mirror, though I couldn’t make out what it was as we sped along the suburban streets. We arrived at that eerie white two-story house. I stared up at the closed blinds of the windows, expecting movement but finding none. Somehow, I knew that he was watching. He had to be.

Peter exited first, crossbow already in hand. The stake he carried hung at his hip like a revolver ready to be drawn. I followed behind tentatively, the memories of the torment I suffered in the basement played through my mind. Then there was Greg, the twisted anguish on his lifeless face…

I focused on the task at hand. We were going to kill this old man, and we were going to do it tonight. There would be no alternative.

Peter approached the front door. I guessed he and I were of the same mindset, that Renaud knew we were here and there was no sneaking in. To my surprise, the door was unlocked. Peter entered. I followed close behind.

We moved silently through the entryway and past the living room, full of furniture from various time periods. The television was modern, the couch looked like it was from the sixties, and the table looked handmade. He had been in this one spot, in this one patch of land for far longer than we had been alive. We were on his home turf and at complete disadvantage.

We pressed on to the kitchen,...

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