“This is Salvatore Dante. You know what to do after the beep.”

“…sniff…S-Sal…It’s me …and I’m still wondering when in the hell you’re coming back. Sniff…and I’m not crying because of…y-you, but you’re…sniff…definitely not helping! I’m getting really…sick of you ignoring every phone call! And I know you’re not dead because dead guys don’t send me to voicemail on the third fucking ring! Sniff…you’re a god damn horrible business owner! A-And…I swear…I’m done! I’m done with you! I’m done with asshole...sniff...customers! I’m done with cheese burns! And you better fucking believe I’m setting that fucking shit hole on fire if you don’t call me back!”

Jesse tapped his phone screen several times, but the call refused to end, and he let out a cry of frustration. A pathetic noise garnering attention from concerned people on the street who watched him stand in front of the gym verbally assaulting his phone. And slowly, they went about their evening when the awkwardness of his ugly sobbing became a strange weight in the air.

With several weird moments of sob-standing and careful consideration of his threats, Jesse wiped his eyes and called Sal back.

Voicemail.

“Sal? Okay…I’m not contemplating arson. Sniff. B-But…I’m definitely pissed, and I would appreciate you calling me back before you get a complaint to the better business bureau!”

More tears welled up in Jesse’s eyes after he hung up since screaming at Sal’s voicemail did little to comfort him.

He opened his eyes in the middle of the worse possible scenario; to everyone watching his puckered lips lean in to accept a kiss from dream-Gage, who got him half-hard with talk about knotted dicks and baby-making. And in a frantic burst of embarrassment caused by the realization he’d been awake the whole time, Jesse sat up too fast and collided foreheads with Gage.

Jesse could’ve burst into tears right then, sitting there with a throbbing red bump and surrounded by laughter. Still, Gage was kind enough to try and brush off the mortifying situation, dismissing the others and making sure Jesse was alright after slipping and falling that hard.

He wasn’t.

Instinct told him to run out of the building and find a new gym, but he couldn’t even if he wanted too since it was leg day, and skipping leg day was out of the question.

So, he stayed, balancing on the verge of tears and half-ass composure while listening to a mix of Harry Styles and a playlist of random break-up songs.

And he worked out longer than the others who had been in the bathroom because he was too afraid of removing his headphones and facing their ridicule, which happened more often than not.

Now, silently, Jessie put his phone away and started walking down the sidewalk with his shoulders dropped and a heavy sigh on his lips. Not to mention the swell on his forehead still hurt.

The light behind the clouds had gone out, dimming as night drew nearer and threatening the evening with an unpleasant storm foretold by the screams of wind carrying the smell of rain and rot. The streets were quiet, nothing but an occasional car or a strange noise slithering from a nearby alley or drain. But, Jesse couldn’t focus, unable to think past the embarrassment or pull himself from the mental gutter he fell into.

Something tickled his ankle, but he rubbed it away with his foot.

Tonight couldn’t possibly get any worse.

He thought and turned to the corner to find his bike missing.

Biting back a scream, Jesse settled for an unpleasant gasp and ran over to the empty parking spot where his chain laid on the ground in pieces.

“No! No, no, no!” Frantically, he searched the area, looking around just in case someone was trying to fuck with him as if that was even a possibility.

And he stood there, letting everything simmer until the flames within ignited in a fury of misery that came out in a single word.

“WHY!?”

The night repeated that word in a cruel echo, mockingly returning his question with a high-pitched tone similar to Pike’s secondary voices.

His shoulders slumped in a moment of defeat, and he groaned, but the flames of his agony refused to settle and die, coming up as another outburst.

“Ugh! What in the hell did I do to deserve this?!” He shouted at the sky, staring at dark clouds moving like crow wings. “Is it because I dropped out?! Is it because of the porno?! Is it because I let myself be bullied by a sexy, murderous vampire?! Because if so, I’d love to know the alternative!”

The sky flickered with lightning, revealing shadows in shapes moving above the clouds, and Jesse stared, briefly mesmerized until a small glint of light forced a blink.

Glancing into the nearest alley, Jesse spotted his bike safety leaning against the side of a building.

In a breath, he ran into the narrow path, quickly looking over every detail and analyzing his precious possession to the point of tearing it apart and kissing every shiny piece. But he settled for a relieved sigh, and an overjoyed inhale of air.

“Thank you, universe,” Jesse whispered to himself and lifted his bike off the wall.

Footsteps.

Jesse looked up to the mouth of the alley, where two men stood and stared, strangers, hiding behind grinning masks and shrouded in shadows.

Fear rose, and his heart started beating against his skin, pounding to the same tune as the anxiety throbbing behind his temples.

More footsteps turned his attention into the alley’s throat as two more masked strangers stepped out from the darkness and approached him with painted grins.

Jesse panicked, but having nowhere to go, the masked gang closed in on him like predators, forcing him close to the wall in submission. One of them, a woman, flashed the top of her hand, and Jesse saw the symbol inked into her skin.

Four black wings in mid-flex.

His fear spiked.

The Angelus.

In this city, there were rules. Not laws handed down by politicians who sat safety in their ivory towers, but expected principles of behavior for anyone who crossed paths with the Angelus: avoid them, beg them, obey them. One of which might save the life of the person they targeted.

In a skillful twirl of fingers and steel, a butterfly knife clicked into place, and the edge of that jagged blade touched Jesse’s cheek.

“I-I don’t have anything on me, I swear!” He said, swallowing a lump of anxiety, and shivering when the tip of that blade slid down to the pool of his neck in a slow threat.

“You Jesse Romano?” The knife-owner asked in a voice damaged by smoke.

Cowering like a rabbit among wolves, Jesse stayed pinned to the wall, staring at the mask who spoke with wide eyes. He glanced at the others, carefully shifting between their painted grins then returning to their armed leader. “N-No?”

“Ah, shit,” One in the back said. “It’s the wrong guy.”

In a flash of irritation, their leader turned and struck the man over the back of his head.

“Ow! Fuck!” He jumped, touching that sore spot and checking for blood. “What the hell?!”

The others giggled.

“Clearly, he’s the guy from the fucking porno, and clearly, the bike is registered to the name Jesse fucking Romano, so clearly, it’s the right fucking guy, you stupid asshole.” The edge of that knife lingered on Jesse’s throat, fidgeting to every annoyed hiss added to the man’s words.

“Christ, okay,” His associate responded. “But, you didn’t have to hit me, it could’ve been someone else!”

“Now that’d be some fucking coincidence, wouldn’t it?” The leader growled, speaking too close to the one arguing him before turning to the woman. “Give me the rope, then go get the van.”

“R-Rope? Van?” Worry made Jesse’s voice too soft and split his words up between anxious breaths he couldn’t control.

The masked woman tossed a set of keys to one of the men, then started digging through a duffle bag.

“S-Seriously, I don’t have any connections, I just work at a shitty pizza place! Please! I—”

“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll cut your throat, pretty boy.” The blade poked a tender spot at the bottom of Jesse’s neck, drawing a trickle of blood.

“Ow, Ow! Stop! Someone! Help!” Hands grabbed his face and wrists, slamming him into the brick wall and holding him there. Their armed leader squeezed his jaw until he tasted blood, and it felt like his jaw would shatter from the pain.

“I said, shut the fuck—”

One man’s masked face hit the wall beside Jesse with a crack, and everyone went still, glancing over simultaneously.

The iron rod of a gate, or just an old piece of metal left to rust, impaled the man’s head, splitting through his temples and touching the brick on the other side.

And that still-twitching body was then lifted—higher and higher, ascending and hanging from that rod until his body began to slide down the metal, leaving behind a dripping trail of blood and brain. The body stopped against the chest of someone standing half-consumed in shadows, and Jesse inhaled.

Two eyes opened, two pinpricks of light peering through the night like the devil watching witches dance around ritualistic flames.

Shadows opened, spreading like wings to create a path for their vampiric host and disappearing in a fold of darkness behind Pike as he stepped closer. His grin widened, and he pressed his face close to the corpse’s cheek, licking the thick rivers of red and skull, then kissing it tenderly.

The woman and another associate screamed, the terror finally sinking in, and they watched Pike throw both man and metal aside with a cruel snicker.

“T-The…No…No! The mask! He had on his mask! It should’ve—”

A great force or some kind of dark energy rippled across the alley when Pike appeared before them in a single step. His hands tore into the chests of the two living members, leaving their leader to watch.

The woman screamed again, and Pike slammed her into the wall, crushing her body into brick and metal, listening as she begged and gasped and moaned. Blood splattered across Jesse and the armed man, and Pike only stopped when he reduced the woman to a limp bag of skin carrying broken bones and misplaced organs.

The second wasn’t as lucky, after tossing the woman into the darkness, Pike brought the screaming man closer—long fingers silencing those cries by stabbing the back of his throat. And in a pop of bone, the man’s jaw dislocated mid-scream.

Pike ripped into the man’s throat with no restraint, no mercy, just the hunger of a demon hellbent on killing and feeding with the melody of suffering surrounding him like shadows.

Chunks of neck were chewed through, ripped out, and spat onto the ground until he opened a wound large enough for the blood to flow fast in heavy runs.

Suddenly, Jesse was thrown to the ground as the leader tore through the alley and fled around the corner.

He sat up, staring at the street beyond the darkness until a gruesome crack caught his attention, and he looked up at Pike.

He’d never seen it.

Never seen him like this.

Pike had always fed away from his eyes.

Fed where the smell and taste of death couldn’t reach him.

And Jesse couldn't look away. His heartbeat thrummed in time with the humming of Pike’s demonic voices, the heavy drinks of blood, and bones breaking under force.

Finally, after chewing and drinking his fill, Pike licked and kissed the exposed bone of the corpse’s broken neck, sucking out the bloody marrow then tossing the body aside.

For one too many silent seconds, he stood there—panting and soaking up the taste of death and decay, flesh and blood, and tilted his head back. His mouth opening, his jaw widening, sucking in the air. The noise made Jesse weak, and he could’ve cried in fear right then—a hiss, an uneven rumbling of throaty vibrations, deep and wet echoes, the screaming voices of his victims being swallowed as though Pike was taking their souls.

Then, it stopped.

The night went silent, and Pike stood there, staring up at the sky.

Jesse watched him, too afraid to speak, too scared to breathe.

Pike’s neck rolled, his head shifting, and those demon eyes locked onto Jesse, who sat there trembling.

Thick, flesh-heavy strands of bloodied drool dripped down Pike's throat, and his tongue lapped up the red on his fangs.

A whistle rose and formed a song.

His song.

An eerie tune playing on as the vampire walked over to each corpse and pried out a number of teeth.

“One got away,” He spoke finally, but the whistling continued like a faint whisper of ghosts.

Jesse didn’t speak.

“What a fucking waste.” Eyes stained with gore shifted to him.

Jesse was able to tear away for a brief moment, a breath of a second to glance at the mask laying in a puddle of blood and rain, but when he looked back to Pike, he gasped when the vampire appeared directly in front of him.

“Well? You okay, princess?” He asked, baring that usual sexy half-smile now licked clean.

Jesse nodded.

“Heh, they must’ve been desperate to try and rob a broke piece of shit like you—”

In a moment of fear, of feeling too overwhelmed and frightened of what could've been—Jesse hugged Pike. He threw his arms around the vampire’s neck, pulling his face into that hard chest and ignoring the smell of blood and death.

And Pike remained on one knee, unmoving. “Still scared?”

“Y-Yeah.” His voice was too soft, too afraid.

“Well, don’t be,” Lips and teeth teased Jesse’s neck. “I killed them, didn’t I?”

Jesse nodded again.

“So,” A cold hand slid over Jesse’s back and pulled him closer. “Quit being a little bitch, and let’s get out of here before you get framed for murder.”

Jesse groaned and let go.

Why did he bother seeking sympathy from this fucking guy?

Together, they stood.

“You know, for a guy as big as you are, you sure as hell act like a fucking maiden.” Pike chuckled, carrying a mask he’d picked up off the ground.

Jesse took the handles of his bike and steered it off the wall.

Pike snatched his face, forcing their eyes to meet and staring into them unblinking. “You were crying too?”

“I….yeah…but…not because of them.”

“Why?” The avian-wide look in Pike’s eyes was frightening.

I got an erection in front of the guy of my dreams after having a fantasy about him attempting to impregnate me.

“I...uh...fell in front of everyone…at the gym.” Jesse's eyes softened.

Pike released his face with a wicked chuckle and shook his head while ruffling Jesse’s hair. “You fucking loser.”

And Jesse sighed, watching Pike snap a photo of each victim.

It wasn't a good idea for him to know about Gage, not because Jesse thought Pike gave enough of a shit to be jealous, but more like an all-mouths-on-me-and-only-me kinda guy.

The two of them started for the sidewalk, and Jesse cautiously avoided the bloodied mess as best he could.

When his bike ran over something, he glanced down to the dirtied mask lying on the ground.

Terror swam in the pits of his mind—the Angelus came after him, tried kidnapping him, but why?

“Let’s go, sugar tits,” Pike called from the edge of the alley.

Jesse looked up, and the terror fled. For now.

“I’m coming.”