Warnings: A bit of language, nothing major
Characters: Edgar Frog, Alan Frog
Spoilers: Majorly for the Thirst
Synopsis: Edgar finds himself fighting a war on two fronts when a power vacuum leads to an explosion in the vampire population at the same time as he finds himself learning how to cope with his own set of fangs
Night time was actually kind of beautiful. He had never stopped to think about it before. In Santa Carla, the night was all about bright lights, spinning and flashing in time to the beat of the music that could be heard for miles around. The crush of a thousand tourists all trying to occupy one small space, street sellers advertising ear piercing and tattoos, or cotton candy, popcorn, ice cream. The loud rumble as the roller coaster swept past, the screams of the riders. It was all too loud, too bright, and too false.
By the time he had finally left the bright lights behind, the night had already taken on a different kind of meaning to him. The darkness wasn't safe. The creatures that lurked within it were constantly poised to pounce and to kill. The night was cold and dark and full of evil, and he alone stood against it, protecting the innocent from the horrors, allowing them to live to enjoy those bright lights and loud sounds.
He had never been able to just stop and look around, take a deep breath and enjoy the stillness of the night, the way the darkness somehow accentuated the beauty of his surroundings. The old, sick looking tree not far from his trailer changed when the sun set. The tiniest hint of light from the moon or the stars illuminated it from behind, displaying its bare branches in sharp, dark contrast to the sky above. Everything was like that now. His eyes were so much sharper.
Every sense was so much more powerful. It was as though until now he had been deaf and blind, and suddenly a veil had been lifted and he could see everything, hear everything. Even his sense of smell was stronger.
He was the perfect predator.
The perfect monster.
He took a deep breath and inhaled the night air. Soon, it would be over. He would be human again. In the back of his mind, where he kept the thoughts to which he didn't dare give voice, he wondered whether that was truly what he wanted. It was the monster inside talking, of course, or so he told himself. It was a dangerous thought, whatever the source. Blood's sweet temptation grew stronger night after night, and he could keep it at bay, but there was always that danger that one night his control would waver and the evil would take over.
He was the good guy. If he truly became one of the monsters, who would step into his shoes and hold the darkness at bay?