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Make Me Believe by Heather

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All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
The young man stood quietly in a damp, dark alley on the streets of Santa Carla. Hidden in the shadows in one of the rougher crime neighborhoods, he calmly took a drag of his Marlboro cigarette. He winced and held back a cough. The habit was new to him, and he had yet to discover the pleasure some found in smoking, but it gave him something to focus on. Smoke burning in his lungs was something real, serving as a reminder that some parts of him were still alive, still mortal.

He took another drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before expertly exhaling through his nose. His brother would be furious if he knew about this newfound addiction. He could practically hear the accusatory tone coming from his brother’s lips. Instead of dealing with his brother, he chose to roam the city streets under the guise of hunting. Hunting alone could help him collect his thoughts; it helped him keep his secrets hidden. There was so much more his brother didn’t know about him anymore.

He flicked the butt of his cigarette onto the cement ground. Tiny embers of flame fought to continue burning. He watched the nicotine blaze a dull orange before succumbing to its demise. Tendrils of smoke rose from the lifeless cigarette as a final act of defiance to the air that had suffocated its burning glory. Strange to think he shared much in common with the cigarette. In many ways, they were kindred entities.

Footsteps plodded along the deserted street in his direction. Although the steps were low and stealth like, his keen senses heard them as if they were deliberately loud. His hand flicked uneasily above the wooden stake shoved tightly in the belt of his faded jeans. A human shaped shadow grew larger as it approached him. Stepping further into the shadows he waited, prepared to fight if need be. A figure stopped at the entrance the alley. “Alan?” a familiar voice hissed. “You down there?”

Alan Frog sighed heavily as he stepped from the comforting darkness of shadow to face his brother, Edgar. “Yeah, I’m here.” He replied crossly. “But if I had been a vamp, you’d probably be toast right about now.”

Alan ran his hands across his jacket as if brushing dirt from it. In reality, he was checking to be certain his pack of cigarettes remained hidden in the jacket’s folds. Satisfied he would be able to avoid the argument for the time being, he crossed his arms in front of him and regarded his brother with a cool gaze. “What are you doing out here, Edgar?” he asked. “I thought we agreed I would take the south side and you would stay west near the Boardwalk.”

“Jeez, chill out, Alan.” Edgar replied. “I wanted to report on some of the buzz around the Boardwalk.” It wasn’t like Alan to be so temperamental and independent. Something about him had changed over the past months. Ever since the night they had demolished the Lost Boys, Alan had withdrawn from their tight knit camaraderie. He insisted on hunting alone, almost to the point of obsession. “What is going on with you?”

Alan shook his head in annoyance. “Nothing’s going on.” He protested. “Unless you count my brother dropping in unexpectedly on my hunting site.” Edgar’s posture changed slightly, revealing the hurt Alan had flung upon him in the form of words. “Forget, it, man, it’s nothing, okay?” He fidgeted nervously in his place. “What’s the word?”

Edgar stared hard into his brother’s eyes, hoping there would be some indication of what had altered his brother’s personality. Alan returned the hardened stare, and Edgar shrugged in resignation. “Missing persons report took a spike in the last 2 weeks.” He replied, unable to conceal the exited gleam in his eye. “Sounds like some vamp activity has resurfaced since we annihilated the fang gang.” Alan’s expression didn’t change. In fact, he gave no indication he had even heard Edgar speak. “Thought we’d crash the police station to get some more details.”

Alan drew in a sharp breath, though Edgar wouldn’t have been aware. His brother’s words only fueled life into the fact he had been certain of for weeks. They had not, as Edgar put it, annihilated the fang gang after all. The Lost Boys had escaped the fight at the Emerson house and were slowly returning to their ways. “They’re back.” He muttered involuntarily.

Edgar put an uncertain hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed. “Alan!” he called loudly. “It’s not the Lost Boys, Man. We took them out. Dead. Vamps go boom.” Alan looked lost in a torrent of thoughts, nearly causing Edgar to doubt the Lost Boys demise. “Man, are you still freaked about that night?” he asked. “Is that why you’ve been so weird lately? The possible vamp activity is a group of new vamps, Alan. There’s no way it could be them.”

Alan slapped Edgar’s hand from his shoulder and roughly pushed him aside to walk out of the alley. “Am I still freaked out about that night?” he sneered with anger. “At least I’m not the one screaming myself awake from nightmares every night. Don’t pretend you came out of that unscathed, Edgar.”

Edgar flinched, and ran his hand through his brown hair. Alan relented. “Hey.” He said, though Edgar refused to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I guess you’re right about that night. You know. There really are vampires.” He glanced up and down the street. “I want to take as many of them out as I can.”

Edgar nodded and regained his traditional husky stance. “That’s cool.” He replied, still uncertain Alan was telling the truth. “But you don’t have to leave me out of your mission. We’re still a team.” Alan didn’t reply. He merely began walking up the street away from him, slowly disappearing into the darkness.

Edgar called out to him. “Well, okay. I’ll get back to the west side territory and we’ll compare notes later.” Edgar hurried in the opposite direction. He’d never admit it, but this side of town made him incredibly uneasy. There would be time enough to hash it all out with Alan later. Perhaps by daylight.

Alan stopped a few blocks away, stopping to lean up against the side of one of the abandoned buildings. Automatically, he reached for the cigarettes in his pocket and began the ritual again. The familiar crackle of gunfire several blocks over caused his eyebrows to lift with some interest. He wondered which gangs were determined to eliminate their competition this evening. He laughed to himself as he contemplated the looks on the faces of hardened gang members encountering the vampires of Santa Carla.

The momentary mirth faded from his features as his thoughts turned back to Edgar. Edgar was clever enough to trace the changes back to the final battle with the Lost Boys, but it was apparent he thought Alan was frightened into hunting in seclusion. True, they both battled various demons from that night, and as a result, their closeness suffered serious damage. But while Edgar battled nightmares, Alan was battling a far more dangerous adversary. If he had continued talking to Edgar, he very likely would have killed him.

He could not determine the exact moment he ingested vampire blood. His best guess was in the cave when they tag teamed the little one. “Marko,” the smooth whispering voice murmured in his head. Vampire blood and guts spewed everywhere, drenching all of them in some form of remains. Each of the would-be hunters ran from the sight, shouting and yelling out their fears. Perhaps it was then that a tiny drop or two of infected vampire blood inadvertently entered his being.

He knew from numerous interviews with Michael that all it had taken was a swig of blood mixed with wine to bring on the change. One tiny swig and Michael was reduced to shielding his eyes from the sun, sleeping all day, and nearly attacking his own brother in sheer, desperate hunger.

Killing Max had reversed the process, making Michael, Star, and Laddie completely mortal again. Alan recalled their joyous faces when they realized they were free from the curse forced upon them.

It was a few days before Alan began to suspect at least one vampire escaped the Emerson house in tact. He had excused his sudden sensitivity to sunlight as aftershock from the whole affair. Both he and Edgar didn’t get much sleep at night, for fear something might be lingering to attack, it was easy enough to overlook. As the weeks progressed, however, he noticed other changes as well. Sometimes at night, his body would float a few feet above the bed, and his reflection had become transparent. Even if he could find some logical argument for these occurrences, he couldn’t explain away the burn on his hand from grabbing a crucifix from their arsenal. He couldn’t explain his heightened sight and hearing. Or the maddening sound of blood pumping through the veins of those he came in contact with.

He couldn’t stand talking to Edgar for long because he could practically smell the blood in his brother’s pores. No way was he going to pull a Michael and attack his sibling. He chose to avoid as much human contact as he could to prevent an uncontrollable need to feed. Rumblings from deep within him served as constant reminders he was going to have to find a way to eat something, or suffer the consequences.

“I know they’re out there.” He whispered into the smoke he exhaled into the night. “They’re all out there. In here.” He grabbed the sides of his head in anguish. He could hear their voices beckoning and taunting, growing louder each night. How Star and Laddie had fought off these primal urges for so long astounded him. What kept them from taking the final step into immortality?

“They had a little assistance.” A low and gritty voice said from beside him. Alan jumped slightly and stared boldly into the surprisingly amicable eyes of the bleached blonde Billy Idol vamp. “David.” The vamp said with a rumbling chuckle. “Though I suppose being compared to Billy Idol isn’t too terrible.” Raising his gloved hand, he yanked the burning cigarette from Alan’s mouth and expertly touched its flaming tip to his own cigarette.

Alan reached for the stake in his jacket. He didn’t understand the logistics, but this David was without a doubt, the newest head vampire of the Lost Boys. Driving a stake through the vampire’s heart would undoubtedly free him from the torment he had experienced these past few weeks. His arm reared back, ready to deliver the blow, when he realized he was no longer holding the stake. Frantically, his eyes searched the ground.
Another well timed chuckle emerged from David’s lips. With despair surging in his chest, Alan raised his eyes to the vampire. David swung the stake effortlessly in front of his eyes. “Lose something?” he asked with a maddening smirk. “I couldn’t let you use this before we had a chance to talk, Alan.”

Alan plucked the stake from David’s gloved fingers, and protectively returned it to his belt loop. He felt stupid for even thinking he could outsmart the vampire who was obviously reading his thoughts. “What the hell do we possibly have to talk about?” Alan shot back, furious. “Unless you’ve come to offer to stake yourself so I can be completely human again.”

“Is that what you really want, Alan?” David whispered. Alan could feel himself losing his resolve. The monster within him screamed to be free from the confines of humanity. Visions of eternal youth and strength seduced him from his anger. The tiny portion of his soul that was intrigued by the life being offered to him began to grow. David watched intently, as if waiting for this precise moment. Alan’s silence answered the question for them both. “Didn’t think so.”

“Just tell me one thing.” Alan demanded. “If Michael, Star, and Laddie were returned to normal after Max exploded, why didn’t I?”

“That’s an easy one.” The vampire answered, casually waving his hand in the air. “Marko isn’t part of Max’s bloodline. He’s part of mine.” Alan slid down the side of the building to sit on the damp concrete as he struggled to digest the information.

“But, aren’t you part of Max’s bloodline?” Alan asked, confused. “He was the Head vampire, after all.”
David crouched beside him, vaguely observing the occasional piece of litter which floated by on the breeze. “Technically,” he began. “Me, Max, Dwayne, and Paul are all head vampires. We’re all descendent of the same vampiress. When she was killed, her claim to the bloodline ended, and each of us was granted the opportunity to create our own bloodline.”

David’s face clouded in an emotion Alan was unable to interpret. Grief? Guilt? Anger? It was unclear, but the effect the emotion had on the vampire was unquestionable. “Max claimed control over the pack and declared the only new vampires made were to be made from his blood.” David snorted in what appeared to be disgust. “When your little hunting party injured Marko, you got my blood by default. But not by accident.” A cunning grin escaped from the creature.

Alan had been ready to ask a question about how David made Marko despite Max’s rule, but sat stunned by the last statement which seemed to linger. “What do you mean ‘not by accident’?” He stammered in surprise, unable to grasp a more stable emotion. “You did this to me on purpose?”

Leather gloved hands clapped in rapid succession. “Bravo! Give the man a cigar!” David called out to the deserted street. He lit another cigarette and handed it to Alan, who grabbed at it in desperation and began puffing away with abandon. “You were all part of the plan, man. Star, Michael, Sam, Lucy, Max, and you and your brother. A few hypnotic suggestions and the lot of you helped us get rid of Max, leaving us control of Santa Carla.” David crossed his arms in front of his chest in satisfaction. A sidelong glance at Alan caused him to laugh and shake his head. “I’m sorry. You wanted to know why I chose you.”

Alan nodded in misery. Here the Frogs and Emersons thought they were great vampire hunters and heroes to the people of the city, and in reality, they had been nothing more than play pieces in a game of Lost Boys chess. They hadn’t succeeded in killing off the vampire gang which used the city as its feeding ground. They had merely rid the pack of its least desirable member. Angry tears threatened to spill as Alan struggled to cope.

“You know that saying ‘keep your friends close, and your enemies closer’?” David asked. Alan nodded numbly. “What better way to cripple the Santa Carla Vampire Hunters than by making one of them family?”

Alan groaned, which served only to please the vampire more. “You boys had potential to be a threat, but we needed you to destroy Max. So when you thought you were killing Marko, you simply followed my suggestion and took a healthy swallow of vampire blood.” David’s eyebrows knotted in uncertainty. “You injured Marko, but didn’t kill him. The blood was real, but there wasn’t as much as you thought you saw.”

“But...”Alan stammered. “Why me instead of Edgar?’ Edgar was the stronger of the two, and he was certainly more lethal. Not that he would wish this on his sibling, but wouldn’t Edgar have been the more logical choice?

“Really, Alan.” David sighed, exasperated. He rose to his feet, the long black duster coat unfurling in stereotypical vampire fashion around him. “Haven’t you been paying attention at all? You’re brother is certainly the strength in your operation, but he’s much too impulsive and rash. We need vampires who exercise some caution and use their brain.”

Despite himself, Alan felt a swell of pride at David’s words. There was something enticing about being chosen to be a member of the Lost Boys. For a moment, he ceased caring that the gang was actually a pack of bloodthirsty monsters. For a moment, he felt drawn to becoming part of a family by choice, rather than by genetics. Quickly, he regained his composure and glanced uneasily at David.

It didn’t take long to realize David had seen his moment of contemplation. Grinning, the blonde vampire reached down and swiftly pulled a resisting Alan to his feet. “Felt good for a second, didn’t it?” David inquired, one arm about Alan’s shoulders as if they were old friends. “You could be part of a family, and never have to worry about old age or death. You would live to see hundreds of years from now.” David rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. A moment later, his eyes blazed a brilliant blue and he smiled deviously. “I know what might help.”

He disappeared around the nearest corner, and returned almost instantly with his arm around a pretty, petite brunette. The girl trembled in terror as David handed her to Alan. Alan took the girl in his arms, drawn into her frightened, bulging eyes. He could hear her heart beating frantically, pushing blood quickly throughout her body. The vein on her neck practically pulsed rhythmically in a beat only a vampire could understand. She struggled slightly, her pores giving off the sweet and tempting scent of fear. Alan trembled in his stance. He could feel himself changing.

“Can you smell her fear, Alan?” David whispered from somewhere nearby. Alan couldn’t look up to find him. All he could focus on was the tiny maze of blue veins that designed the delicate neck inches away from him. “It makes the blood sweeter.”

Fangs tore through his gums, and although the sensation was strange, it was not unpleasant. The thirst which had been gnawing at him was now uncontrollable. It was an urge he needed to satisfy, and only the blood of this girl could quench the unbearable thirst. The girl suddenly became clearer in his sight, as his vision improved to animal like quality. She squirmed in his grasp. He pulled her closer.

“She won’t feel any pain.” David cajoled. “But that horrible hunger you feel will be satiated. And you’ll be one of us. You’ll be free.”

One tear escaped his amber colored eyes and Alan leaned forward, allowing his fangs to sink into the soft flesh of his victim. Warm, sweet liquid filled his mouth and fell down his throat. His body screamed for more. Deepening his drink, the girl in his arms moaned in pain and fright. Alan’s eyes focused on her and the drops of blood splashed on her pale skin. Horrified, he dropped her from his grasp and let her slump to the ground, weak, but alive.

Alan lifted a hand to his face and frantically wiped away the lingering sweetness which threatened to consume him. He looked deeply into David’s eyes. “Sorry, man.” He said, his voice strained. “But I prefer redheads.”

David thought he had convinced Alan to kill the girl, and was momentarily surprised at the sudden change of events. Calmly, he reached down and drew the nearly unconscious girl to him and drained her. Alan’s face twisted as he struggled to maintain the mortal within. The scent of her blood was overpowering, but still Alan kept his human visage. “Suit yourself.” He replied simply. “I just hope your brother isn’t around the next time you get the urge to feed.”

David unceremoniously dropped the now dead girl at Alan’s feet. “Fight it if you must.” He offered. “But don’t harbor any delusions you’ll be able to hold it off like Star and Laddie. Remember, they had some help.” The moon rose full in the sky, its luminous rays engulfing David in an almost loving embrace. Waving his fingers, David turned and walked slowly away.

“How do you know I won’t tell Edgar and have him help me annihilate your ass?” Alan called after David in what he hoped was an act of defiance. “Then none of this would matter.”

David stopped walking, but didn’t turn around. “You would have told him already.” The vampire continued on his journey. “We’ll see you soon, Alan.”

Alan sank to his knees, his unused stake grasped tightly in his hand. He opened his fingers and let the piece of useless wood slide to the ground. The vampire hunter in him had failed the task and let a vampire walk away. The lifeless eyes of the girl stared at him accusingly. “I stopped, I swear.” He sobbed to the corpse. “I’m still half human, I didn’t kill you.”

In his head, he could hear David’s amused laughter. “Damn you! Leave me alone!” he cried out. Rising to his feet, he blindly ran down the empty streets. Before long, his feet weren’t touching the ground, but he didn’t notice. His legs still moved in a comical running fashion as he soared above the buildings into the night sky.

“Leave me alone!” he whispered as an afterthought.
His eyes quickly became aware of the air surrounding him. Though he struggled to figure out a way to descend, he was partially thrilled with the feeling of flying. Wind whipped at his face, filling his lungs with clean, fresh air. With this ability, he could be home in an instant.


Alan dropped out of the sky at rapid speed, hit the strangely hard sand of the beach, and rolled several feet before coming to a stop. Spitting sand from his mouth, he pushed himself to a seated position. Slightly cool ocean water lapped at his feet as the tide pushed its way onto the sand.

He reached his fingers towards the slowly retreating water, delighting in its temperature. The ocean was cooling, fall was approaching, and school would be starting. How could he continue this masquerade?

All that was left were his choices, and both seemed wholly unpleasant. He could succumb slowly into the thralls of vampirism, risking all those he loved. Or, he could find a way to destroy the head vampire, and give up his chance at immortality, and possibly mortality.

He was certain of only one thing: Edgar could never know. The bond they shared would be shattered by the mere mention of vampire. Even if Edgar could keep from killing Alan until David was destroyed, he would never trust him the same way again. In some ways, Edgar was machine like, and set in his ways. Even after months of pure humanity, Edgar could not bring himself to trust Michael or Star. How would he respond if he knew his own brother was infused with vampire DNA?

In the far distance, he could hear the whooping cries he had come to recognize as the Lost Boys. The tide came higher this time, wrapping around him in comfort. Alan sobbed into the wind, feeling as if parts of him slipped away each day. “Please, help me.” He begged to anything that would listen. “Please.”

Throw away my dreams
This fight for my life isn't getting behind me
And I've been told to scream
Where no one can hear me, it doesn't mean nothing

So make me believe
Just take me away from this hell I've created
And I'm afraid
I'm breaking my own vows knowing I'll go down in flames

I know this can't be right
There's got to be something more that I can live for
And I can only hide
Inside of this sickness for so long again

So make me believe
Just take me away from this hell I've created
And I'm afraid
I'm breaking my own vows knowing I'll go down

Make me believe
Just take me away from temptation that's calling me
And I'm afraid
I'm breaking my own vows knowing I'll go down in flames

Running in circles
Confusion is calling my name
Hiding inside of this poisoning madness again
I'm tired, I'm broken
I'm walking along with the dead
Will I ever feel like I once did?

So make me...

Make me believe
Just take me away from this hell I've created
And I'm afraid
I'm breaking my own vows knowing I'll go down

Make me believe
Make me believe
Make me believe
I'm breaking my own vows, knowing I'll go down in flames
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