![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fickle_obsessedDeath was never supposed to have been considered a luxury - what was it they said? Two things in life are inevitable death and taxes. Obviously whoever said that hadn’t counted on the vampires, ghosts or werewolves all of them stuck in this limbo of life where they should’ve been long gone but through some messed up twist of fate were left clinging to some semblance of life.
It was hard to say which of them had the worst time - Annie trapped on Earth, invisible and unheard by all but people like her - the ones death had turned their back on. Or perhaps it was Mitchell - forever young and beautiful but unable to get close to anyone with a pulse for fear of draining them dry. And then there was George, in theory his curse wasn’t full time, just one night a month of having to lock himself away, alone and in agony as his body betrayed him, pulled him apart and pushed him back together as he was forced to go through the whole thing fully conscious every time, but it was there in his head every moment, not only when he was awake. He should’ve died that night, but fate had been a bastard to all of them, death a stranger,
They say haunted house like it’s a bad thing, like the ghosts want to be there causing trouble. People never think of it from the ghost's side - stuck on Earth when they should’ve be allowed to pass over, to find peace, but instead what they get is an unlife watching as their loved ones grieve, as strange new people come into what was once their home and live the life they were never allowed to, hear them making plans for the spare room, for babies and parties and all things they’ll never have. Is it really any surprise if a ghost can’t take that? If they want to be alone instead of having the constant reminder of everything they’ve lost? It’s hardly their fault they can’t just tell their new housemates, have a reasonable conversation about how it would just be much better for everyone if they left, is it?
Annie had been alone for a year, or rather might as well have been, what she had been was so much worse. Annie had been invisible to people while they came and went from her house. She’d watched as Owen had packed up and left, as her friends and family had come back from her funeral, she’d sobbed and screamed and haunted until finally someone could see and hear her, two someone’s actually - George and Mitchell, her saviours.
George had been alone for even longer, he’d run away from his family, from his fiance, kept his head down and tried to make sure everyone was safe from the monster he’d become. And then he’d met Mitchell.
It was Mitchell that had been alone the longest almost a hundred years, and while he hadn’t been the person he was now for that many of them he’d been trying for over a decade to get clean and good, trying to avoid the temptation that came with most other vampires. He’d had a friend once, but that hadn’t lasted.
And so they’d all been alone for so long, lost, invisible, outcasts from society, and each had given up hope. And then, just like that they’d found each other. It seemed so stupid to Annie how it had happened - answering an advert in a paper about a house to rent? What were the chances that they’d all end up in the same place, not only that but that they’d become, family, more than family really. It was almost enough to make her thankful for Owen.
Almost.
George could’ve been anything, all his teachers said so in school and all his tutors at university agreed ‘smart boy, the sky’s the limit.’ Multilingual, organised, driven. George had a bright future ahead. He’d considered becoming a teacher, doctor, even a tour guide when he was feeling less ambitious and more adventurous. He had his whole life planned out - get a good career, get married, have children. He had it all lined up too - fiance, job and then they went away and just like everything was ripped away from him - literally. Now he works minimum wage pushing patients around a hospital. His teachers would be so disappointed, so would everyone else that knew him, so maybe it’s just as well he left them all behind along with his hopes and dreams.
It’s weird, to most people the moon’s innocuous or even beautiful. No one thinks of it as a bad thing. Okay, so some people blame the full moon for people going crazy, I used to think that was bollocks, as if the moon’s going to affect your behaviour”
Then George scratched me and my perspective on everything changed. Now the moon’s all I can think about - counting the days until the next full moon, until the next bout of agony, or losing myself and being terrified of what I’ve become.
I miss the days when I didn’t care about the moon, maybe this is what I get thinking it had no power over me.
It’s easy to give up, understandable too when you’ve lost everything including your life. It’s funny though I would’ve thought dying would’ve been the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to me, what else can you lose after that?
I hadn’t accounted for making new friends after that, on getting a new life and even happiness. I hadn’t thought about what else there was out there to take away all that. I hadn’t reckoned on vampires trying to take over Bristol or the fact I’d get tangled up in it all, but then again who would?
I’d already lost everything, but suddenly I had so much more to lose than I ever had in life. Mitchell and George had given me a reason to fight, a reason to try, a reason to care. Luckily I was already dead, so what more could happen to me if I did fail?
They call it a curse, and I suppose I can see why - I was terrified in the early days, all on my own with no idea what had happened to me, but I managed to work it out - ways of managing the condition. It isn’t that had really, you just have to think of it like controlling a wild animal, work out how to keep it in check, within boundaries so you don’t hurt anyone. Once you’ve done that you can start to embrace this new side of you.
It makes you stronger over time, see? The pain lessens over time, and with each change your bones and muscles get stronger, you heal faster and even when you’re human again it stays with you - those heightened senses, that strength. It makes you superhuman. Does that really sound like a curse to you?
You want to know one of the most annoying things about being a vampire that no one ever talks about? Having to work forever - that’s right, there’s no retirement for vampires, not unless you happened to be lucky enough to be turned over the age of 65, but most of us were turned much younger than that though - stuck in our mid 20s, our only ID telling people we were born in the late 19th century which isn’t exactly something you can admit to most people. And so you’re stuck at the perfect working age, forever and most of us don’t have the luxury of a career, because people tend to notice the whole lack of ageing thing if you stay in one job for too long and so you’re stuck doing the shit jobs where you can keep your head down and move on every few months so no one notices. A whole lifetime doing shift work. Can you imagine anything worse?
Death changes you, or maybe it’s just the things you see and the people you end up with that does it. In life I was so meek and mild, I never stood up for myself, never spoke up about anything, but I think I was good and kind. I held onto that fact for so long but my death turned me darker, like a slow poison eating away at the person I’d been. Then again a lot of that was down to how I died - can you really expect to be murdered by the person you loved most in the world and expect it not to change who you are? Maybe Owen was the poison then, in life as well as in death - knocking me down bit by bit, day by day until all there was left of me was this weak-willed person who lived to make him happy. But even that wasn’t enough. He was the reason I had to toughen up, it’s a shame I waited until he’d killed me, but at least I got payback. He might have been the poison, but I spat it right back at him when it counted.
It was hard to say which of them had the worst time - Annie trapped on Earth, invisible and unheard by all but people like her - the ones death had turned their back on. Or perhaps it was Mitchell - forever young and beautiful but unable to get close to anyone with a pulse for fear of draining them dry. And then there was George, in theory his curse wasn’t full time, just one night a month of having to lock himself away, alone and in agony as his body betrayed him, pulled him apart and pushed him back together as he was forced to go through the whole thing fully conscious every time, but it was there in his head every moment, not only when he was awake. He should’ve died that night, but fate had been a bastard to all of them, death a stranger,
They say haunted house like it’s a bad thing, like the ghosts want to be there causing trouble. People never think of it from the ghost's side - stuck on Earth when they should’ve be allowed to pass over, to find peace, but instead what they get is an unlife watching as their loved ones grieve, as strange new people come into what was once their home and live the life they were never allowed to, hear them making plans for the spare room, for babies and parties and all things they’ll never have. Is it really any surprise if a ghost can’t take that? If they want to be alone instead of having the constant reminder of everything they’ve lost? It’s hardly their fault they can’t just tell their new housemates, have a reasonable conversation about how it would just be much better for everyone if they left, is it?
Annie had been alone for a year, or rather might as well have been, what she had been was so much worse. Annie had been invisible to people while they came and went from her house. She’d watched as Owen had packed up and left, as her friends and family had come back from her funeral, she’d sobbed and screamed and haunted until finally someone could see and hear her, two someone’s actually - George and Mitchell, her saviours.
George had been alone for even longer, he’d run away from his family, from his fiance, kept his head down and tried to make sure everyone was safe from the monster he’d become. And then he’d met Mitchell.
It was Mitchell that had been alone the longest almost a hundred years, and while he hadn’t been the person he was now for that many of them he’d been trying for over a decade to get clean and good, trying to avoid the temptation that came with most other vampires. He’d had a friend once, but that hadn’t lasted.
And so they’d all been alone for so long, lost, invisible, outcasts from society, and each had given up hope. And then, just like that they’d found each other. It seemed so stupid to Annie how it had happened - answering an advert in a paper about a house to rent? What were the chances that they’d all end up in the same place, not only that but that they’d become, family, more than family really. It was almost enough to make her thankful for Owen.
Almost.
George could’ve been anything, all his teachers said so in school and all his tutors at university agreed ‘smart boy, the sky’s the limit.’ Multilingual, organised, driven. George had a bright future ahead. He’d considered becoming a teacher, doctor, even a tour guide when he was feeling less ambitious and more adventurous. He had his whole life planned out - get a good career, get married, have children. He had it all lined up too - fiance, job and then they went away and just like everything was ripped away from him - literally. Now he works minimum wage pushing patients around a hospital. His teachers would be so disappointed, so would everyone else that knew him, so maybe it’s just as well he left them all behind along with his hopes and dreams.
It’s weird, to most people the moon’s innocuous or even beautiful. No one thinks of it as a bad thing. Okay, so some people blame the full moon for people going crazy, I used to think that was bollocks, as if the moon’s going to affect your behaviour”
Then George scratched me and my perspective on everything changed. Now the moon’s all I can think about - counting the days until the next full moon, until the next bout of agony, or losing myself and being terrified of what I’ve become.
I miss the days when I didn’t care about the moon, maybe this is what I get thinking it had no power over me.
It’s easy to give up, understandable too when you’ve lost everything including your life. It’s funny though I would’ve thought dying would’ve been the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to me, what else can you lose after that?
I hadn’t accounted for making new friends after that, on getting a new life and even happiness. I hadn’t thought about what else there was out there to take away all that. I hadn’t reckoned on vampires trying to take over Bristol or the fact I’d get tangled up in it all, but then again who would?
I’d already lost everything, but suddenly I had so much more to lose than I ever had in life. Mitchell and George had given me a reason to fight, a reason to try, a reason to care. Luckily I was already dead, so what more could happen to me if I did fail?
They call it a curse, and I suppose I can see why - I was terrified in the early days, all on my own with no idea what had happened to me, but I managed to work it out - ways of managing the condition. It isn’t that had really, you just have to think of it like controlling a wild animal, work out how to keep it in check, within boundaries so you don’t hurt anyone. Once you’ve done that you can start to embrace this new side of you.
It makes you stronger over time, see? The pain lessens over time, and with each change your bones and muscles get stronger, you heal faster and even when you’re human again it stays with you - those heightened senses, that strength. It makes you superhuman. Does that really sound like a curse to you?
You want to know one of the most annoying things about being a vampire that no one ever talks about? Having to work forever - that’s right, there’s no retirement for vampires, not unless you happened to be lucky enough to be turned over the age of 65, but most of us were turned much younger than that though - stuck in our mid 20s, our only ID telling people we were born in the late 19th century which isn’t exactly something you can admit to most people. And so you’re stuck at the perfect working age, forever and most of us don’t have the luxury of a career, because people tend to notice the whole lack of ageing thing if you stay in one job for too long and so you’re stuck doing the shit jobs where you can keep your head down and move on every few months so no one notices. A whole lifetime doing shift work. Can you imagine anything worse?
Death changes you, or maybe it’s just the things you see and the people you end up with that does it. In life I was so meek and mild, I never stood up for myself, never spoke up about anything, but I think I was good and kind. I held onto that fact for so long but my death turned me darker, like a slow poison eating away at the person I’d been. Then again a lot of that was down to how I died - can you really expect to be murdered by the person you loved most in the world and expect it not to change who you are? Maybe Owen was the poison then, in life as well as in death - knocking me down bit by bit, day by day until all there was left of me was this weak-willed person who lived to make him happy. But even that wasn’t enough. He was the reason I had to toughen up, it’s a shame I waited until he’d killed me, but at least I got payback. He might have been the poison, but I spat it right back at him when it counted.
