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i love this. point, blank, period.

Girls night with our gay best friend Paul

Part Three: Outlaws Of Santa Carla (The Lost Boys Fanfiction/Western American Fanfiction AU Fanfiction)🤠🦇✨🖤

If Paul was to be turned, he was going without a fight.

Slipping through the branches of the trees with far from graceful grabs for the bark, only his fear in the silence of the woods propelled him. The canopy  of dark green clustered pines remained still, not a needle moving among the darkness. 

Night had come as everyday promised and with it was the truth that he would be caught. He didn't have the speed or the strength that Marko had or the hunger to hunt him in return. Paul had become prey now, losing his place as the shadow watching from afar as others found themselves trembling in his current position. 

"Only a few hours 'till sunrise, then you can see yourself out of here. Only a few more hours." Paul's voice remained as a soft echo in his head as every thought was aided with a weak attempt to regain a steady breath. 

Gripping on to the grooves of the tree, holsting himself farther into the crook of the thickest limbs, forcing himself into a much more comfortable position. Would he really have the will to hurt his closest friend or would he have to give in to his friend's monstrous actions? It was clear that Marko didn't want him dead but had a far worst fate in mind. Either he could accept the curse and live as a social outcast or try his best at taking down Marko and getting away scot free with a well crafted story of his heroism and fight with a dangerous vampire. He could be the hero that he had always strived to be. He could do something in honor of his father for one last time.

Paul felt a tear prickle at the thought of the day he had taken down his father, the person closest to him and it had been the worst agony that one could dream of suffering. 

Could he do it again? 

Paul's thoughts were becoming more and more overwhelming, blocking out the world around and below him. Armed with nothing but a stolen military knife and an empty pistol, his chance of hunting Marko in return was far too slim to even revisit those thoughts. 

A rustle through the branches facing him snaches him from his thoughts as the forest lit with life. The cries and songs of the once silent birds of the forest filled that air so loud that gripping his ears became an instant response. The beating of wings sounded louder than his heart.

Kicking out at the slant in the tree, bark explodes from the surface, raining down on the ground below. 

"I'm gonna die!" Reaching out for a higher hanging branch, his fingers barely found the separated twigs, pulling a few of the, off before gaining a stable hold. Blood dripped down his wrist as he held on tighter to the branch, swaying under his weight. 

"You aren't gonna die, Paul. You're gonna live forever." A shadow hunched over the adjacent branch, hands on knees, golden eyes glaring and an array of forest dwelling birds perched on his shoulders. The gleam of a black and silver dagger slicing through the air caught Paul's eyes. The very thing that could save him or turn him. 

Letting go of the branch, his stomach dropped.

Marco darted forward through the branches, weapon extended but not close enough to meet with Paul's skin. With barely enough time to balance on the branch below him, Paul summoned all the strength possible and swung forward. Grabbing  his friend with a strength that he never knew that he had within him, the slant branch snapped. Paul fought for a grip on something, anything, but the claws of his friend dragged him farther into the air. Falling through the splay of branches, Paul had already come to terms with defeat. 

The flock of birds surrounded them in a cloud of black, each one pecking at his skin and attempting to claw through the thickness of his hair. 

Paul, barely able to make out Marko kept pushing against him, ignoring the fear of the steady fall to win. A sharp ring and the scream of Marko echoes as the branches of a short pine crash into Marko, tangling them both in a mess of pine needles. Holding on to him, both float feet above the forest floor as if they had never fallen. 

It hit him with a sharp knowing like no other, They are floating.

He had seen Marko do it, but as he held on to his friend, so was he. 

Searching his friend for the thing they had crossed endless miles for, he found nothing.

"Where is the dagger?" Paul screamed over the beat of one hundred wings, grabbing Marko's chin and tilting it so that their eyes met. 

Marko simply snarled, fangs dangerously close to his flesh. His nails could rip him apart but aided with adrenaline, he was numb to the steady scraping of claws on his sides. 

Marko's empty hands drive Paul deeper into a frenzy of anxiety. "Marko, you need that dagger."

With that, the air that had once held him so tight let go without warning, leaving him snatching at the air.