15:Let's Realise Something

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Waking up, he knew he was not going to be spared the drawling of the beast that possesses his freedom within his guilty, unforgiving clutches. No more is BamBam's will to continue fighting against him. Gone is any sense of hope or freedom for the young boy. His eyes are empty; dull and filled with nothing. His skin is pale, sunken and dead. The poor boy is tired, cold and lonely. 

Sitting up, BamBam rubbed his eyes before almost choking on the fake teeth that he forgot about. Pulling them out, he let his mouth get used to the absence of the teeth, and stretched his limbs out. As he moved his neck around, he felt an ache; he must have slept on it funny, and now he had to pay the price for it. Feeling up to it, his fingers ran over two fresh punctures. How much more can he take before he will need a blood transfusion? 

He began to get cold. He noticed a dark blanket that had been draped over him. It was quite large, how thoughtful of Jackson. 

But where is Jackson? The last that he remembers, he was cuddled up to him under his chin, with a promise that their relationship would be reworked and that he would be treated better. He could barely see in the room that he lay in, which scared him a bit. Jackson could be chilling in a corner of the room and BamBam would never know. Pulling the blanket up to his chin, he curled up as much as he could to preserve heat, and keep himself sane.

He was starting to imagine things. His eyes started playing tricks on him. He started imagining a figure in front of him, standing tall and menacing, with a purpose. It looked like it was coming closer to him, slowly, and driving him insane. Sitting up, he let the blanket drop to the floor as he watched his imagination's latest craft. But was it really his imagination? As the figure came closer, BamBam blamed himself for not immediately expecting it to be Jackson. His face came into view, and he looked angry. He felt barricaded in, and he couldn't move. He felt trapped; locked in to his own body. What can he do when a blood-sucking villain towers over him expectantly? What is there to do? 

"You've been sitting like that for ages. Are you going to move, or am I going to have to make you?" the vampire spat. BamBam shrugged. He didn't care anymore. Crouching down, Jackson gripped the younger's chin, his breath gusting across his face. "I thought you were going to change. What happened to reworking us?" Jackson asked, as if he was talking to a puppy. Once again, BamBam said nothing. What is there to say to a compulsive liar?

Standing up, Jackson adjusted his waistband, looming over the other. "You know, I have given you the food off my table, raised you from that unforgiving world out there, and even gave you somewhere to sleep, purely out of the goodness of my heart." Jackson's hand slowly curled around BamBam's collar, "but this is the thanks I get," BamBam was yanked up and into Jackson's chest, "so I'm going to make you thank me".

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