His legs were already becoming numb. He has been sitting (and hiding) behind this bush for a long while. He was observing the hunter's house. Looking for signs of people. Of activity. But so far, within the last half hour, there was none. It appeared that the house was uninhabited at present. He had a feeling it wasn't. He had a feeling that the hunter was inside. Whether alone or not is another question.
That question did not come to his mind before. It has been a week since they last talked, and he knew and felt that the hunter was his. His alone. Selfish, true, and foolish doubtlessly, but he had that feeling still. There wouldn't have been any reason why he needed to lookout for the hunter tonight. No reason except that a bat (he can talk to them) told him that he saw the hunter talking to someone near the market area in the village. It said the two were talking enthusiastically, and they were too close to each other. When he asked the bat to desribe who the hunter was talking to (because it may only be a child, or a grandmother...), the bat said that the hunter was talking to a tall, broad-shouldered, good-looking, masculine human.
A vein burst in his head right then. Cheater! So you go with the same kind after all! Why all this hiding? Why all this pretense? What does he have that I don't?! I'll show you where you truly belong, I'll show you...
And that was why he found himself waiting outside the hunter's house (after destroying half of his possesions in his dwelling). Waiting for signs of "Mr. Masculine" and of hunter. Waiting for them to fuck each other senseless.
I'm going to come in, he said to himself. I'll catch them red-handed. I'll catch him cheating and see whether he'll feel any remorse. So I can really find out what he feels for me. But the fact that he's seeing other men... doesn't that ring a bell already? Isn't that already a sign that the hunter doesn't like him?
Time and again, he kept returning to this position. He kept hoping. He kept finding signs of love where there was not even recognition. When there was not even friendship left. Time and again. And he can't take it anymore this time. he can't take it anymore now that he knew he goes with his own kind, too. Now that he knew that he didn't accept him not because he cannot go with the likes of him, but because he simply does not like him.
He rushed towards the front door, large quantities of moonlight he did not need spreading on the lawn before the hunter's house. He landed on the main hallway, his steps light despite their speed. He knew where the hunter's bedroom lay, and he found it. Candles were lighted in there. He even glimpsed the hunter, sitting on his bed, smiling, as he ran towards the other side where the hunter wouldn't see him. And as he came close, he heard a noise he dreaded the most to hear coming from his room. Another voice. A masculine voice.
"...it spilled so much blood on my pants, I had to take them off," the other voice was saying, and they laughed.
"I was wondering why you had to help me," the hunter said. "You have your own work to do and that was a messy job I could do on my own. You don't need to do that, that's what I mean."
"Well," Mr. Masculine replied. "Let's just say that spending time with you is time worth spending. Time worth spending even if I did go hungry." They both laughed.
"By the way, how you come you didn't mention..."
"Hey, do you have a pet here?" Mr. Masculine asked. "I heard a weird puking sound just outside..." He stood to close the door.
"No, stay. I'll close it later myself. Must be your imagination. I can see the hallway very clearly from here and there's nothing there but darkness."
"As I was saying," Mr. Masculine continued. "I... I really don't know how to begin. I mean, I was just hanging out with you, hunting with you, and then, I felt this... this... inside. I felt good just watching you move that long spear of yours. I liked watching you observe the trail with your pretty eyes. I like the way how your lips snarl whenever an animal escapes. I just like doing those things. Just being near you. I know it's inappropriate but... I think I like you."
There was a long silence.
The hunter cleared his throat. "Umm... you know... I actually feel..."
CRASH! A sound of broken glass. Everything happened so fast. Wind came in. The candles went out. Complete darkness. An eerie whistling sound filling the room. "Ouch!" and a sharp intake of breath. That was not the hunter. "No!" That was the hunter's voice.
Another crash then... sudden silence. Calm. The hunter finally got enough nerve to light the candle again. He was expecting his room turned into a mess or a visitation by a violent spirit. But there was nothing, just a few pieces of broken glass from his window.
"I'm bleeding," Mr. Masculine told him. There was a rather shallow gash on his cheeks. It will heal, but it will leave a mark. A scar. The Count taught him how to make a potion which can remove scars, but he has forgotten. He has forgotten those days. "You'll be fine. There's some clean cloth inside the drawer."
He went for a closer inspection of the window. Whatever hit it and broke it, it came from the inside. Most of the broken glass fell outside. He picked up a candle and brought it nearer. There were blood stains on some of the glass shards.
What could it have been, he thought? But his question was immediately answered by something falling. Falling in front of his face. He caught it, and opened his palm. His face went pale.
Alarmed, the hunter's companion went to him. "What is it?" he asked. He got no answer. He opened the hunter's hands and saw a black feather, now crushed from the hunter's grip. "What does it mean?" he asked.
He got an unreadable face and teary eyes for a reply.
---
Screams and dying groans filled the village that night. The Count was on the loose again! This time, he was more vehement than ever. More cunning. There was no mercy. Before, the Count was satisfied with killing one in a night. But now, he seems to be killing everyone in the village.
He was alone. He was in pain. And he will take it on the others. Everytime he killed, he imagined "Mr. Masculine's" face on them, although he really wasn't able to take a look at his face. There were tens of Mr. Masculine's. Hundreds. He'll kill them all. Because he loves the hunter. He loves him!!!
The moon climbed higher on the sky, as if it wanted to get a better view of the once placid town now looking like a scene from a nightmare. And in the middle of it all was a vampire, the Count of the Enchanted Forest.
It isn't over yet, he thought, as he let his last victim lie bloodless (and lifeless) on the ground. But deep inside, he knew his hope was gone. Or if it was not, it was imaginary. "I love you. Why don't you love me back? WHY?!!"
And he ran and attacked. Causing more pain and misery to the villagers. Hurting those who have seen him cry.
But if that is what you want, he thought, I'd let you be. If you're happy with him, what can I do? I love you... and I want you to be happy. He was so lost in his thoughts as he was stalking on the main street that he didn't notice the arrow sticking through his arm. Pain rushed on him and he winced. He tried to remove the thing but it was barbed. He noticed that it's end was coated with a green-colored paste. Another arrow hit his right leg. "Poison," his last thought was, as he slumped down on the pavement unconscious, blood still dripping from his open mouth.
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