Eternally Bound by Blood(Dark Bl)

Eric's heart raced, caught in a whirlwind of confusion and dread. He felt the hunger surge within him, a dark, insatiable craving that clouded his judgment. Alaric's taunts echoed in his mind, but there was something more instinctive driving him—an overwhelming desire to feed.

Eric stepped forward, drawn by a force he couldn't control, his mouth suddenly dry. He could smell the man's fear—the sweat and the metallic tang of blood coursing just beneath his skin. It was intoxicating, and with every heartbeat, the hunger clawed at him, louder and more demanding.

"Eric…" Alaric teased, his voice a dark melody. "Would you like a taste? Just a little nibble? I promise, it'll be fun."

The owner's eyes widened in horror as Eric moved closer, the animalistic urge taking hold. He felt a strange exhilaration and fear all at once—both for himself and for the man before him. The boundaries of his humanity began to blur as he reached out, fingers trembling. The man's pulse throbbed beneath the surface, a rhythmic call to his darker nature.

"Please!" the man begged again, tears streaming down his face. "I don't want to die!"

Alaric's laughter filled the air, a cruel sound that reverberated off the walls. "Run, little piggy!" he cackled, his voice dripping with wicked delight. "Run while you still can!"

The words sent the owner into a panic. He tore himself from Alaric's grasp and bolted in a random direction, desperation fueling his flight.

Eric's instincts began to kick in, the hunger surging as he blocked the man's escape with startling speed, moving before he could think.

"Where do you think you're going?" Eric growled, his voice low and almost unrecognizable.

The man skidded to a halt, eyes wild with fear as he realized there was no escape. His breath came in ragged gasps, chest heaving as he stared at Eric, who stood between him and the exit, predatory and still. Eric's eyes glinted in the dim light, a flicker of humanity struggling against the growing hunger.

"I don't want to do this," Eric said softly, his voice almost apologetic, though his body betrayed him, inching closer. He could hear Alaric's laughter behind him, but it was distant now, fading into the background as the hunger overpowered his guilt.

The man didn't wait. He lunged at Eric with a burst of desperation, throwing a wild punch that caught Eric off guard, landing a blow on his jaw. The pain snapped something inside him and Eric's face twisted into a snarl, more animal than man. The apology was gone, replaced by cold fury.

"You shouldn't have done that," Eric growled, his voice dark and dangerous.

Before the man could make another move, Eric's hand shot out, gripping the man's throat with a strength that shocked him. He struggled and his hands began to claw at Eric's arm, but it was futile. Eric could feel the man's pulse under his fingertips, thudding erratically in sheer terror. He tried to fight back, flailing, but his movements only made Eric's grip tighten.

"I'm sorry," Eric whispered, but the words felt hollow as the hunger consumed him completely. He pulled the man closer, his fangs elongating, a sharp, painful sensation in his gums. He fought it for only a moment before he sank his teeth into the man's neck.

Warm blood filled Eric's mouth, and he drank, the hunger finally sated as the man's screams turned to gurgles. The taste was everything—rich, intoxicating, and for a brief moment, all the fear and guilt washed away, replaced by pure satisfaction.

The man fought weakly, his body jerking in Eric's grasp, but the more he struggled, the deeper Eric drank, his feeding turning violent. He couldn't stop himself now, not as the taste of life flowed into him. His senses were heightened, every sound, every heartbeat amplified.

Then, the man went limp.

Eric pulled back, breathing heavily, blood smeared across his lips and chin. He stared down at the man, his eyes wide with realization. The fury was gone, leaving only the weight of what he'd done. He dropped the body, staggering back as if he could distance himself from the horror.

Behind him, Alaric's voice was laced with amusement. "Well, well. Looks like someone got carried away."

Eric wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, still panting. "I said I was sorry…" he muttered, his voice hollow now, his gaze distant as he stared at the lifeless body. He wasn't sure if he was apologizing to the man, to himself, or to something much deeper, something he couldn't understand.

Alaric stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with approval. "Don't worry, darling," he said with a smile, patting Eric on the shoulder. "There's always more where that came from."

Alaric grinned, wiping a smudge of blood from Eric's cheek with his thumb, before turning to the now still night air. The barrier around the house was gone, broken by the sacrifice Eric had unknowingly made. Alaric gave the body one last glance, an almost affectionate smile tugging at the corner of his lips, then turned back to Eric, who stood frozen, still processing what he'd done.

"Well," Alaric said smoothly, "now that the pesky barrier is out of the way, we should head inside. Don't you agree?" His voice was light, as if they'd simply come from a casual evening stroll rather than a violent feeding.

Eric didn't respond, his thoughts a tangled mess of guilt and satisfaction. His hands were shaking, the blood still fresh on his skin, but something darker stirred beneath his horror—a reluctant thrill. He could still taste it, the life he'd taken. It repulsed him, yet part of him craved more.

Alaric noticed the conflict, his smile widening as he grabbed Eric by the arm, tugging him toward the house. "Come on," he urged, his grip firm yet oddly gentle. "You've earned yourself a little rest after that."

Eric stumbled forward, his feet moving on instinct more than conscious thought. His mind was still in the alley, still with the dead man, but Alaric's presence was hard to ignore. He felt strangely lighter as they crossed the threshold into the beautiful house that calmed Eric's spirits.

"See?" Alaric mused, releasing Eric's arm and spreading his hands wide as if presenting a grand prize.

"Now *this* is more like it. The humans have really outdone themselves." His eyes flickered with a dark joy as he surveyed the grandeur around them.

Eric barely heard him. His chest was tight, and the world seemed to tilt slightly as he leaned against the nearest wall for support.

Alaric's grin never faltered as he watched Eric, his amusement prominent.

"Oh, don't look so pale, darling. You'll adjust. After all, you just fed, didn't you?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And you liked it. Didn't you?"

Eric's eyes snapped up, locking with Alaric's. He opened his mouth to protest, to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. Alaric leaned in, his face inches from Eric's, and whispered,

"There's no point in lying to me, Eric. I know what you are now. You can feel it, can't you? The hunger. The power. The *freedom.*"

Eric swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly, but Alaric only smiled wider, leaning back with a satisfied look. "Don't worry," he said, voice almost playful now. "You'll come to terms with it soon enough."

He motioned for Eric to follow as he moved deeper into the house, his steps light and confident. "Now, let's see what other surprises this place has in store for us."

Eric hesitated, glancing toward the door they had just walked through. The thought of leaving crossed his mind, but he knew it was pointless. He had crossed a line tonight, and there was no going back. Reluctantly, he pushed away from the wall and followed Alaric into the shadows, feeling the weight of the house press in around him as the door swung shut behind them with a heavy thud.

Eric's steps faltered as they walked deeper into the house, his mind still replaying the grisly scene outside. He couldn't shake the feeling of the man's heartbeat slowing under his fingers, the taste of blood lingering on his lips. Every pulse of life he'd taken was a reminder of what he'd become, yet Alaric moved with a carefree glee that made Eric's skin crawl.

Alaric's albino complexion seemed almost ghostly in the bright light of the house, his skin an eerie white against the dark, worn walls. Blood smeared across his pale chest and arms. His white hair, streaked with dried blood, clung to his face as he moved with an elegance as if he was not completely naked and drenched with the blood of his victims.

"Isn't this place just *charming*?" Alaric cooed, his giddiness almost childlike as he glanced around, running his bloodied fingers along the aged wallpaper. "Such wonder." His voice dripped with amusement, and he spun around, facing Eric with wide, gleaming eyes.

Eric could only stare at him. Alaric looked like a creature from some forgotten time—an ethereal figure, simultaneously delicate and dangerous. His slender limbs moved gracefully despite his bloodstained appearance, his eyes gleaming with unspoken excitement. There was something both beautiful and terrifying about him, as if he was a walking contradiction—fragile, yet undeniably powerful.

There was a surreal beauty in the contrast, but Eric couldn't bring himself to agree. He felt trapped, pulled between the horror of what he'd done and the strange, otherworldly allure of Alaric's presence.

Alaric tilted his head, his smile fading as he studied Eric's expression. "You're still thinking about what happened outside, aren't you?" His voice was softer now, almost gentle, as if he understood the turmoil raging inside Eric.

"Come," Eric finally responded softly after a few seconds as he motioned to a nearby door.With his supernatural hearing he could hear the dripping of water so he assumed that was the bathroom ,"Let's get you cleaned up." He said as if to end the conversation he didn't want to have.

He pushed open the door with a flourish, revealing a surprisingly pristine space, the tiles gleaming white under the flickering lights.

Alaric's eyes lit up as he stepped inside, still completely naked . Alaric ran his fingers over the sleek faucets as if they were the most fascinating things he'd ever seen. His giddiness was almost infectious, which to Eric felt weird after what he had witnessed in the village.

Eric hesitated at the doorway, watching Alaric's childlike fascination with the bathroom. For a moment, the bizarre nature of the situation struck him. Here was this terrifying ancient, blood-soaked vampire marveling at something as mundane as running water, as if the horrors they'd just committed were already forgotten.

Eric stepped inside the large bathroom, his gaze flicking to the mirror. His own reflection stared back at him—pale, disheveled, and still smeared with the blood of the two man he'd killed. He felt sick, the weight of what he'd done pressing down on him like a vise.

But Alaric was unfazed, turning on the water with a delighted laugh as he dipped his hands under the stream. The blood washed away from his fingers, swirling down the drain in dark, crimson tendrils.

"See?" Alaric said, looking over his shoulder with that wicked grin. "Isn't this fun?" Eric's couldn't stop the irritation that grew with each passing second.

"Could you at least try not to drip everywhere?" Eric muttered, his voice tight. He grabbed Alaric by the wrist, pulling him to the enclosed shower with glass walls. All he wanted was to clean up Alaric before the mess spread any further.

Alaric, however, seemed utterly unconcerned.

Alaric chuckled softly as Eric dragged him to the shower. "Oh, darling, so practical. You've always been like this, haven't you? So neat, so controlling. It's adorable," he teased, his voice dripping with mock affection.

Eric ignored him, turning the shower on and letting the water rush over Alaric's blood-soaked body. The steam quickly filled the room, fogging the glass and creating an eerie haze. Alaric stood still under the water, his pale skin shimmering as the blood slowly washed away, leaving him pristine once more.

But the image didn't comfort Eric. Instead, it filled him with unease. He scrubbed at his own hands, trying to rid himself of the invisible stain he felt. The sight of Alaric, clean and unfazed, only served to highlight the blood that still lingered on Eric's soul.

"You're quiet," Alaric observed, tilting his head as he stepped closer, the hot water cascading down his body. His now red eyes locked onto Eric's, piercing through the fog. "Does it still bother you? The blood? The kill?"

Eric clenched his jaw. "What do you think?" His voice was sharp, his frustration mounting. He turned away, running a hand through his wet hair, trying to keep the rising anger at bay.

Alaric smiled lazily. "It's always the first few that's the hardest. After that, it becomes easier, natural even. Soon enough, you'll stop feeling guilty altogether."

Eric's stomach twisted at the thought. He wanted to believe he was different, that he wouldn't lose himself like Alaric had. But the truth gnawed at him—he'd already crossed the line.

"You don't know anything about me," Eric snapped, the words harsher than intended.

Alaric smiled faded into nothing.

The tension in the dimly lit room thickened as Eric's defiance hung in the air.

Alaric's expression suddenly darkened, his features sharpening like the edge of a blade. He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking as a predatory glint flickered in his eyes.

"You think you can speak to me like that?" Alaric's voice was low, resonating with centuries of authority. "You don't know the depth of my patience, nor do you grasp the consequences of your insolence."

Eric stood firm, refusing to back down, but Alaric's presence was overwhelming. The shadows seemed to deepen around him, amplifying his menace.

"I saved you from your pitiful existence, gave you a new purpose as to be my underling," Alaric continued, each word dripping with a blend of contempt and power. "You chose to follow me, remember? You owe me your loyalty, your very survival. This facade of rebellion is a luxury you cannot afford."

As Alaric spoke, the temperature in the room dropped, an eerie chill settling in. He leaned in closer, his breath cold against Eric's face. "The only reason I tolerate your outbursts and not rip you apart is because I owe you for freeing me from my confines and a part of me does not want to do you any harm. But make no mistake—disrespect me again, and I will show you exactly what it means to anger an ancient"

"Why don't you just rip me apart now?" Eric snapped, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I know you've lost most of your powers; you're not as strong as you used to be. I've seen the extent of your power, and compared to that beast I encountered in the cave, you should want revenge on everyone."

Alaric stepped forward, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Believe me, I will have my revenge on those who trapped me. But you, my little vampire, are just not one of them."