It’s as if overnight everything has changed. I wasn’t just a guy stuck in an unfortunate event, sucked in by betrayal and manipulation. It’s like suddenly I really am mortal again, experiencing real pain again. Except this time it’s all so much worse.

I’m lying on the ground in front of Bryan’s cabin, far out beyond the city limits. I hurt like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. All I can see in the dark is my hand next to my head where blood and rain have pooled in my palm. It’s still raining hard, and thunder booms overhead like a mockery to my situation. Why can’t it stop raining?

The water splashes in my mouth, open to try to get some air. There is so much blood. My wrists are thick with it and covered with wounds where I’ve been bitten multiple times. There’s hot blood on my neck and in my hair, a result of the ragged tear in my neck, and my shuddering chest is punctured as well. I can’t even believe I’m still alive, but that’s my curse, I guess. Something I didn’t think about from the beginning.

There are squelching footsteps somewhere nearby. I find myself scared, but I can’t move. The wind was knocked out of me earlier and I still haven’t claimed it back; without it, I am helpless.

“Oh Max,” I hear a voice say over the rain. “Max, Max, Max . . .”

I know that voice. I know it so well, so damn well.

I slowly turn my head, the wound on my neck smarting and dribbling more blood. There is a shadow standing over me, darker than the night sky. He’s wearing a large coat, almost hiding his usually pasty face and hands. Now, he looks different. His skin doesn’t look so waxy anymore, but soft and almost flushed. I wonder if it’s because of me. I was blindsided before, so he could have been one of the ones that bit me, tore my skin and sucked at it, guzzling down my blood like there was nothing left in the world. I suddenly feel a wave of sickness at that thought and my stomach heaves. Something like a half-scream comes out of my mouth at the pain that movement brings on, and he laughs.

“You should have never come, Max,” he says, leaning down next to me. “This is all too much for you. How are you feeling?”

He leers at me, his teeth and fangs bright in the dark. He reaches forward, fingers aimed at the wound on my neck. I can’t move away, and he touches the torn skin. The raw nerves are like fuses lit on fire, and I thrash away, causing more pain.

I hate him, Bryan. Gavin said he was a good guy, someone who would take care of me and get me what I needed. On contraire: he left me here like this.

He puts his blood-covered fingers in his mouth, still smiling. “You’ve got a good defined taste, Maxy. Did you really expect me to pass that up?”

My throat struggles to recall how to speak. God, there’s blood in my mouth, my own blood. I hate the taste, I absolutely hate it.

“Where—where’s Gavin?” I rasp, surprised I can even speak. Bryan bends down as if he didn’t hear me. I know he did.

“What’s that? Gavin?” he asks. He pauses and suddenly burst out laughing. He stands, and for a second I think he’s going to do something worse to me. Instead he steps back out of my vision, still laughing.

“Where’s Gavin, you ask?” I hear him say. I try to sit up, but it’s impossible, and I am forced to just lie there and wait, holding on to whatever it is that’s keeping me there.

Bryan comes back again, this time pulling someone by the arm. He throws them towards me, and hand on their back to keep them in place.

“He’s right here, Max,” Bryan says. “He’s been here all along.”

I look up at Gavin, trying to see if his face gave away the truth. His hair is plastered to his cheeks and neck, clothes soaked completely.

“ Gavin,” I choke out, reaching for his shoe. “ Gavin—”

“I’m sorry, Max,” he whispers. I can still hear him over the plop of raindrops in the soft ground. “I’m so sorry.”

He roughly pushes Bryan off and walks away, up the stairs of the cabin and into the interior.

I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it. He was the only one I ever really trusted and confided in for advice or help. Now he walked away, apologizing. Apologizing.

I squirm, trying to sit up on my elbows. “ Gavin.”

“What are you going to do, Max?” Bryan asks with fake curiosity in his voice. “Do you think he’ll help you?”

“ Gavin!” It feels like I’ve torn the inside of my throat to shreds after I scream. It takes most of my breath and I fall back, a foreign heat coming to my eyes and spilling over across my temples. I’m choking on air and my stomach is heaving, and I’m still bleeding, losing everything in these few minutes.

When had I decided to do this, to trade in my life for this? Did it sound fun at that point? Did I always trust Gavin? He led me to so much and became my closest, only friend. And now . . . what?