Helloo everyone! I wrote a new story! xD

And yup, you guessed it, it's FRERARD! But this time, I decided it would be fun to throw in some blood and guts and vampires! ;D And i promise, this will be as non-twilighty as possible! :L

So please enjoy! i'll try and post the next chapter soon! (:

Gerard had stopped counting the days weeks ago. All he knew was that the endless winter darkness had made way for fresh, new spring sunshine, finally heating his tired, enervated bones, bringing something resembling life to his cracked, pasty skin. Yet, not even this new source of energy could give him hope. It was plain to see, he had given up. Being tied up and locked in a shed, completely forgotten, did that to people.

The only thing that ever did give him even the slightest slither of hope was the sight of that boy who took care of the garden. He couldn't see much of him through the tiny gap in the splintering wall of shed, but from what he could see, he knew he was pretty. Really pretty. The sort of pretty you just wanted to wrap up and take home. Everything about him was just so cute. Gerard doubted that he was far past the five foot mark, and even his features were so petite- his little button nose, the sleepy smile that glazed his face whenever he had completed the grueling task of that day's work.

But he had never noticed Gerard. There was no possible way he could- the shed was locked and Gerard no longer possessed the energy or optimism to strain his voice to make a call for help. He just had to pray that maybe one day curiosity would take the better of the young boy. Though he doubted that would ever happen. Gerard's luck just wasn't that good these days.

That particular March morning the boy was busy attempting to break through the thick layer of winter's frost that coated the garden with a shovel so old that the decaying wooden handle began to crumble away at the slightest touch.

"This thing's so bloody old", he grumbled to himself as he rubbed his skinny inked fingers through the short strands of dark brown hair that covered his head. Pulling the pair of shades that masked his eyes from his face and tucking them onto the collar of his t-shirt, he peered through the early morning sunshine to the rickety shed that filled the back corner of the so-called garden.

"Maybe there's something better in there".

If it were possible, Gerard would have taken a heart attack when the shed door was rattled. His head springing up, he squinted through the darkness at the shaking wooden door, praying to a god he didn't quite believe in that the figure behind it would have the strength to burst it open.

"Let them be my savior, let them be my savoir"

The boy shook the shed door with all his might, yet he could find no way to burst open the rusting padlock.

"Stupid piece of shit", he cursed as he kicked the flimsy wall, sending his foot crashing through the wooden paneling, forming a gaping hole in the structure and cluttering the ground with shards of he timbered debris. Falling to his knees, he began to clear away the mess, poking his head through the hole, squinting into the darkness, trying to make sense of what he was about to discover.

There, tied up in the far corner of shack, was, what appeared to be, a figure, slowly rocking back and forth, groaning to itself, mumbling a jumble of words, the only part he was able to make out being "savior". Curious, the boy pulled away some more of the wooden wall, allowing himself to barely, yet fully, squeeze through, gashing the side of his hip as he did so, causing blood to seep into his black t-shirt, invisible.

Crawling closer, the boy examined the figure facing him- it was male. Long strands of inky hair hung matted from his head, shielding his eyes from the pain of what was possibly the first light he had seen in months. His skin, washed out and chalky, was drowned by an oversized hoody and three quarter length army printed shorts, making him look more petite than he probably was. Despite being bedraggled and murky, the boy had to admit, that the man he found in front of him, was rather good looking.

As he approached even closer, he noticed something else, something far more chilling. Blood ran down his neck, dried in and crusted, from a non-existing wound, like his throat had been slit, then healed immediately, without even leaving the slightest trace of a scar.

Moving closer still, so that he was within touching distance, he reached his hand out placing his hand gently on the man's shoulder.

"Are you okay? Let me untie you. I'm not going to hurt you."

The man let out a deep, throaty groan, like it was the first time he had exercised his vocal chords in years. "I'm hungry. So, so hungry..."

"It's okay. I'll get you food and water as soon as I have you untied..."

The ropes around Gerard's wrists let loose, freeing him from the clutches of his captor. He was about to thank the boy, when something hit him hard, like a wall of bricks, clearing his mind of any sane thoughts, setting the animal in him free. It was a smell. That smell. The smell that filled his eyes with greed and tickled his tongue with its metallic aroma. The smell that he could not, no matter how hard he tried, resist.

Blood.

And before he could tell himself otherwise, he had thrown himself forward, lurching for the boy's tattooed neck, sinking his starved teeth into the juicy flesh, sucking out his glorious prized. The boy in his grasp began to howl in pain, tears of agony rolling down his cheeks like heavy snowflakes in a blizzard- cumbersome and copious.

Smacked with a sudden fist of guilt, Gerard dropped the boy to the ground, retracting his teeth from the fleshy wound, letting blood pour out into puddles on the floor. How could he have been so stupid? So ignorant? Only minutes ago he had been admiring the boy's beauty, marveling at how young he was, how fresh, at how much life he had ahead of him. And now, look what was left of him! He was little more than a blood-stained carcass, shaking and quivering on the dusty floor.

There was only on thing he could do.

He had to do it.

He had to change him.

Getting down on his knees, Gerard withdrew a pocket knife from his back pocket, flicking out the blade and pushing it into the palm of his hand, bringing a thick droplet of crimson liquid to the surface of his broken skin. Leaning forward, he placed his hand to the young boy's mouth, prying his clenched jaw open with his thumb and index finger, continuing to force droplets of the liquid down the boy's throat.

"You'll be fine. I promise I'll save you."

Pulling his hand away, the boy jolted forward, beginning to vomit up blood, gagging and coughing up the red substance, letting it flood the floor.

"That's it. Get rid of all the old stuff. Let the new blood fill your veins!"

Gerard placed his hand on the minor's back, rubbing it slightly in comfort. He watched as the eyes rolled back in his head, as he cried in pain, screaming, begging for it to end.

"I promise the pain will go away. Just let me save you."

And there they sat, until the daytime met the night.