there's blood on my hands (don't make me be myself around you)
There was a nagging emptiness in his stomach and an itch behind his lips, and Mac wondered how long he had been unconscious if he was this hungry. His hands started roaming over himself in a self-assessment, and everything was fine until he got to his neck… because his neck had scabs on it.
Two scabs, like bite marks from fangs.
The second he felt them with his fingers he froze, staring ahead with wide eyes. “No,” he whispered to himself as the realization dawned on him, and suddenly he knew exactly what had happened to him, and he felt like he was going to be sick.
(Or the one where Mac gets turned into a vampire… and then Jack comes back home)
Hi there! It’s me and @thesammykinz again!
This fic, the idea for this fic is what started it all. Months ago, in the beginning of our friendship, Sammy and I were talking about how this fandom needed more vampire fics. So I said I’d write it and then we started sharing ideas and suddenly we were like, “are we collabing?”.
So, here we go. The fic that started it all.
Disclaimer: No rabbits were actually harmed in the making of this fanfic.
18,736 words
The first thing Mac became aware of… was the smell of the forest.
It didn’t make any sense, but his thoughts were too fuzzy to figure it out right now, so he focused on little things like opening his eyes. After blinking a few times he saw trees and green around him, so yeah, he was right, he was in the woods. He was… he didn’t feel well and he could instantly tell something was wrong, so he tried to remember what had happened.
Forcing his brain to work, he remembered Helman, Murdoc getting away… chasing him with his dad and then jumping from their armored vehicle right onto Murdoc’s truck. He had almost managed to attach the steel rope they had wanted to use to stop him when suddenly Murdoc had taken an abrupt turn, crashing the car… and then Mac didn’t remember anything.
The next thing he became aware of was the taste of blood in his mouth, but there was something… off about it. He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand and saw chunky, blackened streaks, not even the brown of dried blood, and when he prodded around in his mouth he didn’t feel any open wounds or loose teeth… so where had it come from? He sat up gingerly, backing himself into a tree for support, and patted his pockets – his wallet was there, but his cell phone was missing. There was a nagging emptiness in his stomach and an itch behind his lips, and Mac wondered how long he had been unconscious if he was this hungry. His hands started roaming over himself in a self-assessment, and everything was fine until he got to his neck… because his neck had scabs on it.
Two scabs, like bite marks from fangs.
Keep reading on AO3!
