(Archived) Poth Short Stories and One-Shots

My Fine Furred Friend - Chapter 3

The good times don't last... then again, you guys know my stories always come with some sort of drama to resolve.

Chapter Warnings: Blood (and marrow)

***

Palette closed the door to his house, fixing his beige scarf as he dashed toward the woods.

He had been meeting Goth over the course of a week, and he loved having someone to goof around with. The young vampire seemed to enjoy the company as well, claiming he didn't have many friends himself, vampire or otherwise.

Palette lived by himself, so as long as he came back with something at the end of the day, such as wood or food, his neighbors never questioned his absence.

Goth mentioned something about a lake yesterday, I wonder if he's planning on showing it to me today. We could go fishing! Or maybe we can play tag again, or-

"AH!"

A cry in the distance cut his planning short, prompting him to run toward the source of the sound. The voice was dreadfully familiar... 

Please let me be wrong.

The sound of faint laughter could be heard followed by another cry of pain. He urged himself to move faster.

That definitely sounded like Goth... he sounds hurt!

"What's this?" a gruff male voice said.

"G... giveitback!" Goth cried, his words breathy and strained as if they were being forced through a narrow tube.

"Oh my god, is that-?!"

Palette's emergence from the brush interrupted the exclamation as everyone present turned to look at him.

A group of men surrounded Goth, who was laying on his stomach with a long, thin object sticking out of his left shoulder blade. He was trembling, his breath coming in halting gasps as he sent Palette a fearful look through watery sockets.

Palette recognized most of the men as his fellow neighbors, a well-known hunting group in his village. The man that had been yelling, Chad, had an open leather pouch in his hand.

"Hey Roller, you're just in time to join the fun," one of the skinnier men, Lyle, chortled, walking over to wrap a thin arm around him, "we found ourselves one-a them vampire freaks!"

"Lucky us, silver does work on hellspawn, so it's not going anywhere. Good thing Davies brought along his silver-tipped arrows," a stockier man, Wesker, interjected as he wiggled the arrow protruding from the vampire's shoulder.

The group laughed as the movement elicited a pained whimper through gritted teeth and more tears from the small vampire.

"Leave Goth alone!" Palette shouted, wrenching himself from Lyle's grip.

"Goth...? Wait, you know this freak?" Chad questioned, looking between the two skeletons, "Don't tell me this is where you've been going for the past week... did you know he's a vampire? You know they just mess with you so they can suck you dry, right?"

Palette clenched his fists as he retorted, "No, he's not like that! He wouldn't-"

"Enough!" Chad bellowed, throwing the pouch on the ground and slamming his boot down upon it. Goth let out a strangled gasp as the contents shattered and spilled beneath the hunter's foot.

The man ignored his victim's lament as he declared, "You're clearly being manipulated and brainwashed by this vampire... and as good samaritans, we need to do something about that."