(no subject)
Title: Bleed Well
Author:villianophelian
Rating: PG to R in later chapters
Pairing: VAM, eventually
Summary: Ville Valo is tired of living after a hundred years as a vampire. Deciding to finally get answers to his questions about life’s possibilities (and maybe raise more questions), he sets off for another country. Is it possible to be anything other than what he thought he was?
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters mentioned.
Genre: AU
Author's Notes: Livejournal is being so difficult right nowww.
The sun was definitely down now. Bam could see his breath in white clouds in front of his face. He had dazed off momentarily and had woken with a start, not sure of the reason why. His fingers were frozen. The brunette clutched his iPod and shivered. Dead. Not even Turbonegro could help him now. The world outside wasn’t as dark as it would’ve been had it been summer, for this he was thankful. An eerie glow of white came through the window; it had snowed more in the past hour or so. It was still light though. Bam flicked on his flashlight and began to rummage through his bag for another blanket. The deathly silence around him was pretty hard to ignore without his music, he may as well try to get warm. Wrapping the blanket around himself, he began to blow on his fingers and rub his hands together.
It was really hard not to look at the door.
The skater stared at it through the corner of his eye. He knew that even if he needed to take a leak there still wasn’t enough of a reason to leave. Hell, he could piss out the window or something. Not that he needed to at the moment. Hunger gnawed at his stomach momentarily before the nerves settled themselves in its place. Already he was breathing harder and he’d only been awake for a few minutes. What had woken him? Why hadn’t he bothered to charge his iPod completely? Why was it so cold in here? Bam wished Dunn hadn’t confiscated his phone as further punishment. He could’ve been complaining to Jenn through text right now, or ordering pizza just to scare the shit out of the delivery boy. Either choice sounded acceptable.
“This isn't so bad... It's cold and dirty in here... But atleast they didn't get you wasted and handcuff you to fat woman again...” Bam whispered with a dry voice. The memory of this wasn't a good one. It was funny though, and hearing his own voice speaking out made him feel like he was somehow going unopposed. He never told anyone, but when he was little and afraid of going into the basement he used to talk quietly to himself. It calmed him down. Sure, he looked odd and would probably be embarressed if he was ever caught. But it was better than hearing nothing but silence creeping in on him and making his heartbeat louder in his ear. Even so, if any of the guys found out he still did this he’d be done for. “I just wish I wasn’t alone.” He murmured. Thinking on it he swallowed. That probably wasn’t the best thing to wish for in this situation. At least it hadn’t been answered. The skater bit his lip and looked around the room. It looked like someone had started a painting and left when it was only half finished. It made the room have urgency to it. It was creepy, but it made Bam curious. He wondered if there was anything interesting in this room.
He felt a bit braver thinking about it.
At least brave enough to stand and carefully stretch his stiffened legs. There was a closet on the other side of the easel, close to the window nearby. The brunette opened the door with shaking fingers. The space looked mostly empty aside from a few boxes and the remains of tattered clothing. Bending down, he reached for the biggest box he could find and went back to his spot. Upon opening the thing it was evident that there was nothing of interest or any real value. Maybe they had meant something to someone once, but to Bam they looked like miscellaneous objects. There was a comb, some old CD’s, pencils and erasers, a cheap looking ring. The other items in the box had the appearance of being equally unimportant. The CD’s were questionable though. The house looked over a hundred years old; it didn’t make much sense for them to be there.
He closed the box and went to put it back in the closet, leaving it with the other boxes. The skater didn’t feel much like opening them, he was cold and moving around was only making it worse. If only he could get some decent sleep, then sunrise would be there so much faster and he could go home. Walking a bit further from the window he decided that it’d be better for him to just sit in the corner. Nothing could sneak up on him then. Bam shimmied himself further into his blanket. As he did this something else caught his eye; there were more paintings on the other side of the wall.
They looked new.
That would explain the CD’s. Someone had to have been staying here at one point. The seventeen year old wished that it had been years ago. But the paintings had no dust on them. In fact, they look like someone had just set them down for a moment and left for a coffee break. His blue eyes gazed up at the unfinished painting on the easel. It looked equally new, making him feel like a dumbass for choosing a room that had clearly been inhabited right before him. He gulped. Were they in another room now? What if he was just hallucinating from the mold? What if he never actually made it to this art room, or whatever it was? What if he had fallen onto the chandler and been impaled, and now it was him haunting the house? Isn’t there a movie like that somewhere?
The skater reached for his board and clutched it tightly to himself. He needed to get a hold of himself. These thoughts were magnifying his fear by the tenfold. Maybe he could just run out or something, explain to Dunn and the boys why he had to leave. Bam sighed as he pictured himself telling them about the poisonous mold and unfinished paintings. He would sound like a crazy person.
A sudden thought occurred to him. What if they set this up just to freak him out? They must have! What if they sent someone in to scared the shit out of him just so he’d run out? Bam frowned. Losing a bet was one thing, but being tricked into doing something disgusting because of the lost bet just seemed inhuman. It wasn’t fair. The brunette could honestly say that he had done more than his share of pranks on his friends, but giving him a heart attack in winter in a haunted house? Well, props to them. Evil bastards. He’d have to come up with an even worse punishment if he could get out of here with his dignity intact.
As if on cue, the sound of the creaky door slamming shut made its way to Bam Margera’s ears. It made him freeze from more than the cold. Even if this was just some cruel joke meant to make him piss himself, he couldn’t shut out that voice of fear in his head that was struggling to make itself into a scream. Breath hitched in his throat. The teen stayed as still as he could, even too afraid to blink. His eyes were concentrating on a random can of paint as he listened. He felt like an endangered animal, he was prey. But prey to what exactly? He didn’t want to find out. Minutes passed, Bam picked up the sound of something shuffling around.
Yep, someone was definitely down there... They were getting closer, he realized with fear. His heart was beating so crazily in his chest that he thought it would explode. It couldn’t be an animal. What animal sang and took its sweet time up each step? The horrible feeling of fear intensified as he listened.
You had demons to kill within you screaming,
With a gun loaded with guilt you opened their eyes
Bam’s heart seemed to stutter and stop for a moment. Demons? Gun? He was never good at deciphering songs with such deep meanings. To him it sounded like... It sounded like there was a demon coming to shoot him in the head. But the voice sounded so deep and melancholy. Almost beautiful. With a voice like that it must’ve been a ghost. A sad ghost that was haunting the building he was in, ready to murder him for intruding. Would it be wrong for a young man to cry at this moment? The brunette blinked before shutting his eyes completely. He let his head fall on his lap, hidden by a skateboard that he refused to let go of. If there was a ghost, well, he’d rather not see it. Especially if it was about to kill him in some painful way. It was best not to see it coming. A couple of seconds passed as the singing got closer. Bam wondered briefly if there was a God and how he’d manage to explain most of the shit he’d done in his short life.
The footsteps walked passed his door and went further down the hall into another room. As it registered Bam snapped his head up with eyes widened. It had missed him. It was in a different room. He could escape. But he needed to move quickly before there was a chance of him being found. Fuck what his friends thought; he needed to get out of there! His frozen limbs gathered his things back into his bag the best they could and he went for the door.
Taking a deep breath, he opened it.
A/N: I'm aware that the font suddenly changes... It's just that it took me like a million years just to post this thing and I haven't quite figured out how to change it yet.