Twilight: Blood calling

Hey guys,

I know this is shameless of me but, if you have any pennies to spare for little Olle me, PayPal me on.

DONATE:paypal.me/Helpauthor03

If we can get 20€, I'll drop an aditionale chapter.

But anyways, enjoy the chapter.

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Nate followed Leah into the store.

What greeted them was a retro-looking shop, the smell of dust in the air hinting at how little foot traffic it saw.

Nate looked around, admiring the vibe. It reminded him of an old library—shelves lined up against the back walls, but instead of books, there were thousands of music discs. Before the shelves, rows of disc players sat idly, with earphones dangling from each one.

"Come on, let me show you a couple I like," Leah called from deeper inside the store, already moving toward the back as Nate approached one of the disc players. Leah rummaged through the shelves, muttering to herself, while Nate chuckled at her complaints about not finding the right one.

After a minute of listening to Leah's banter and the store clerk offering her help, she returned with three discs.

"You took your time! Should've taken a couple more days off to find them," Nate teased, smirking. Leah punched him playfully before showing him what she'd gathered.

"These are my favorites. I thought you'd like to hear them," she said, holding up a disc with the title Moanin' and sliding it into the player. As the song began, she put on the headphones and motioned for Nate to do the same. Nate moved closer, noticing how their faces were suddenly just inches apart. Instead of focusing on that, though, he listened intently as a piano began to play softly in his ears.

"It's called Moanin'. It's one of my favorite jazz pieces," Leah explained, watching Nate as the music drew him in, a knowing smile spreading across her face.

Music, for Nate, was like a conversation—a way to express emotions he didn't always know how to put into words. As the piano and trumpets seemed to argue, agree, and share their stories, Nate was captivated. It reminded him of his own music.

"It's like each instrument is telling its own story. The piano's sharing its troubles, and the trumpet's responding, almost whining or… moaning," Nate said, glancing at Leah, whose eyes widened in surprise.

"Exactly," she said softly, clearly impressed. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, they were lost in each other until the sound of a cough pulled them back to reality.

The store clerk was watching them from the counter, making Nate laugh awkwardly. He glanced back at the player, taking a mental note of the song for future inspiration. Two characters arguing through music? It was something he hadn't explored before.

"Moanin', huh?" Nate thought as Leah swapped the disc for another. She handed him the headphones again, and they listened together.

"This one's different from the first, but I like it too," she whispered, smiling as the song began. This time, a woman's voice filled the headphones. The song started slow, carrying an uneasy feeling as if the singer were trapped. Nate felt a knot form in his stomach, but as the music progressed, that sense of confinement turned into something more hopeful—like a chance for a better future.

Leah watched Nate's expression shift and, sensing his discomfort, paused the music. "Didn't you like it?" she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Nate thought for a moment before responding. "It was… strange," he said, searching for the right words. "At first, it made me feel trapped, like no matter what I did, my 'sins' would catch up to me." He used the same word the woman had used in the song. Leah nodded, understanding. "But by the end, as the tempo picked up, I felt a glimmer of hope—like I could shake off those sins."

Leah smiled, surprised again by Nate's deep understanding of music.

"They remind me of rap," he said, glancing at Leah, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Exactly what I thought! You're really good at this," she said suddenly. Nate looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Good at listening to music?" he asked, and they both laughed.

"No, I mean at identifying the emotions music conveys. You really get what the instruments and the song are trying to say," she clarified, and Nate rubbed the back of his neck, appreciating the compliment.

"Well, I've got experience," he admitted with a smile.

Leah nodded knowingly. "I figured as much. When you brought that DAW machine into the store, my boss practically had an aneurysm," she joked, making Nate chuckle.

"But seriously, you do music?" she asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, been doing it since I was a kid," Nate replied, recalling all the odd jobs he used to take just to pay for studio time. "It's always been my escape from reality."

Leah's face softened as she nodded. "Yeah, you have no idea." There was a sudden sadness in her eyes, and Nate wondered if he had said something wrong.

"Maybe you could show me some of your work sometime," she suggested, quickly brushing off the sadness.

Nate noticed the shift but didn't press her. "Maybe," he replied, smiling. He knew she was hurting, but the why eluded him.

They spent the next hour listening to more music, then headed out to explore the town. Leah, in full tour guide mode, showed Nate around Forks—from an old arcade that looked like it belonged in a time capsule to a few clothing stores where she teasingly commented on Nate's city style, saying it wouldn't fly in a small town.

At one point, Nate nearly got splashed by a passing truck driving through a mud puddle, but his vampire reflexes saved him. Leah had no idea, of course, and laughed, saying that was exactly why his wardrobe needed an update.

After three hours of walking, Nate heard Leah's stomach rumble, so he suggested grabbing something to eat. She agreed, and they ended up at one of the most famous restaurants in Forks.

"Why's this place so famous?" Nate asked as they entered the cozy, dimly-lit restaurant. Couples filled the booths, each with their own little corner of privacy.

"It's romantic," Leah replied with a hesitant smile. "But the food's good too."

A waitress led them to a booth in the far corner, away from the crowd. Nate took off his jacket, but as he sat down, the sensory overload from all the noise and chatter was starting to get to him. His heightened senses made every whisper and rustle seem too loud, and it was starting to show on his face.

"You okay?" Leah asked, her voice cutting through the noise in a way that seemed oddly soothing to Nate.

"Yeah, I'm just not a fan of crowded places," he admitted, trying not to sound too tense. He really did prefer his own space—especially since his transformation.

Leah nodded in agreement. "Same here. I don't like crowds either. This is a one-time thing, I swear. I just wanted you to taste the food," she said with a smile, lightening the mood.

"Tell me more," Nate said suddenly.

Leah looked at him, confused. "About what?"

"Why you don't like crowds," Nate clarified.

Leah hesitated before speaking. "You know I'm from the reservation, right?" she asked, watching him closely.

Nate nodded, prompting her to continue.

"Well, we have this tradition where everyone gathers around a bonfire every full moon to listen to stories about our 'great tribe,'" she said, using air quotes and sounding somewhat bitter.

"What are the stories about?" Nate asked, sensing there was more to it than she was letting on.

Leah hesitated again. "It's our history—about how the Quileute tribe descended from wolves and how our ancestors could transform into them. It's all myth, of course," she added, though Nate knew better. The mention of the "Cold Ones" in her story made his mind drift to Bella and her vampire boyfriend. It was hard not to think about how much danger Bella could have been in.

Leah finished by telling Nate how Taha Aki's wife had sacrificed herself for the tribe, and her mood darkened. "After hearing that story over and over, surrounded by people who adore it… I guess it just made me…" She trailed off.

"Closed off?" Nate suggested.

Leah nodded, locking eyes with him.

They were interrupted by the waitress, who apologized for the wait. But before Nate could respond, something hit him—a strong, intoxicating smell. His body stiffened, and his eyes flicked to the waitress's hand, where a small bandage covered a fresh cut. Blood.

The hunger surged within him, and he quickly looked away, panic rising in his chest as his face began to lose color.

"Nate?" Leah asked, noticing the change in his face.

Without another word, Nate bolted toward the bathroom, slamming the stall door behind him just in time. He collapsed on the floor, groaning in agony as the hunger ripped through him.

"Augh!" he groaned, clutching his throat as the burning sensation grew unbearable.

Leah's voice called from the other side of the door. "Nate! Are you okay?" She pounded on the door, but Nate couldn't let her in.

"I'm fine!" he lied, his voice hoarse as his fangs pierced his lip. "Just… give me a minute!"

Leah hesitated, then said, "I'm calling someone."

"NO!" Nate shouted, his voice cracking as he struggled to keep his composure. "Don't… Just… go!" His voice sounded almost inhuman, warped by the hunger.

Leah, hurt and confused, reluctantly left.

As Nate heard Leah leave, a wave of relief washed over him, but it was short-lived. The pain returned with brutal force, twisting his insides until he let out a scream, clutching his stomach in agony.

Desperate for an escape, Nate glanced around the bathroom, his eyes landing on a small window. But no matter how hard he tried, he knew it was too small—there was no way he could fit through it.

Suddenly, the sound of banging on the door interrupted his thoughts, followed by an annoyed voice.

"Hey! I don't know who's in there, but you've been in there too long. Get out!" the man on the other side demanded, oblivious to the fact that the flimsy door was all that stood between him and the most dangerous predator on the planet.

Nate, feeling himself nearing the edge of his control, squeezed his eyes shut. He thought about his uncle Charlie—what would he think if Nate gave in to these monstrous urges? And then his cousin Bella flashed through his mind. She had dated a vampire; would she see him as weak if he failed to resist?

In a moment of clarity, like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, a song drifted through Nate's mind. It was from his latest project, Only.

"I can't be the only one..."

The lyrics echoed in his head, pushing against the rising tide of his hunger. His will to fight clashed violently with the temptation gnawing at him. And then, without warning, black smoke began to swirl around him, consuming his body. Where Nate once stood, there was now a cloud of bats, their wings beating wildly.

The swarm shot toward the tiny window, breaking through it and disappearing into the night sky.

High above the streets, the bats flew together as one until they reached a nearby rooftop. There, they began to merge, fusing back into Nate's human form. He stumbled forward, staring at his hands in shock.

"What the hell?" he gasped, his mind racing to process what had just happened. "Did I… turn into bats?"

He looked himself over, patting his body to make sure everything was where it should be. The bizarre transformation had distracted him for a moment, but the hunger quickly came crashing back, overwhelming him.

Gritting his teeth in pain, Nate knew he had no choice. He needed blood. But he couldn't feed on a human—it was too dangerous. He had to find another way. Expanding his senses, Nate focused his heightened abilities, struggling to direct them away from people and toward something—anything—that could quench his thirst.

Then he spotted it: an ambulance, driving slowly down a nearby street.

Seeing no other option, Nate transformed into the swarm of bats once again, descending on the moving vehicle. The ambulance screeched to a halt as the two paramedics inside leaped out in terror, fleeing the scene. They didn't notice the bats swarming around the vehicle, darting inside.

Nate, now back in human form inside the ambulance, scanned the interior until he spotted two bags of artificial blood. Grabbing them, he quickly morphed into the swarm again, flying off into the night with the stolen blood.

His destination was clear—his childhood home. It was the only place that felt even remotely safe.

When Nate arrived, the swarm of bats slipped through the cracks of the old house, reassembling into his human form once again in front of his father's old office. Exhausted and trembling, he collapsed onto the floor, holding the two bags of artificial blood in his hands.

Breathing heavily, Nate stared at the blue substance. Without hesitation, he brought one of the bags to his mouth, his fangs piercing the plastic. As soon as the liquid hit his throat, the agonizing hunger began to subside. The pain that had ravaged him minutes earlier now felt like a distant memory, a nightmare fading in the daylight.

Everything became clearer—the madness of the hunger, the desperate lengths he had gone to. As he drained the blood, his gaze fell upon a broken mirror shard on the floor. In its cracked reflection, he saw himself—disheveled, hollow-eyed, and hunched over, drinking blue blood from a bag.

The sight made him freeze. He looked at the warped image of himself, unable to turn away.

One word echoed through his mind.

Monster.

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Hey everyone,

Thank you all so much for your continued support! Writing this chapter was both a fun and challenging experience, and I'm really excited to share it with you.

Originally, I was planning to release just two chapters this week and call it a day, but knowing how frustrating it can be to read a chapter that feels incomplete, I decided to add this one as a little gift for you all.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

As always, peace, and see you next time.