Akelarre Apothecary gallons of the stuff!

after this, an hour and a half before sunrise

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Blood.

When Simon Radley, a thirty-year-old professor in 1517 Berkshire, England, fell ill, the local physician officially diagnosed his illness as "disease of the blood."

When the man from London came, he had tried to save Simon's life by feeding him his blood.

When Simon had died, he had awoken with the most grievous hunger for blood.

The man from London had taken him in, and over many years, Simon had learned to control the violent need to consume blood.

When the man at the spa was attacked by the monster, Simon had tried and failed to save him with his own blood.

Five years ago, Simon had succumbed to bloodlust, and very nearly withered to death before Catrina came to his home with bagged blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. It was all that had consumed his mind once he fled the playground, and he had not stopped until he had found it. And now, several blocks away, an alleyway stood splattered with blood.

When Simon arrived at the back door of Akelarre Apothecary, he was absolutely drenched in blood.

A slick fist rammed against the familiar door, the only beacon of clarity in the post-violent haze. Oh yes, it left behind a smear of blood.

Hilargi was closing up when she heard him at the back door. The sound of the knock alone was enough to set her teeth on edge, then there was the faintest scent of something coming from the other side of the door. Something only someone with supernatural senses would be able to smell. Something only another predator could smell.

Blood.

Nothing could prepare her for what she saw when she opened the door. A vampire covered in blood. It made her fangs come out, as much as she didn't want it to, and she stared for a moment, taking in the person before her face twisted in recognition.

"Simon?" She breathed quietly, shocked as she made room for him.

"Quick, come inside."

Simon wavered on his feet, a small noise of anxious dismay in the back of his throat as he wrung his bloodied hands together and waited for the door to open. He didn't know what time it was, or who might be there, but he did know that the Apothecary was somewhere safe, with absolutely no big shifters or poor, innocent people...

The door came open, and Simon started as if he'd forgotten he'd knocked on it at all. Blinking against the shift in light, he stared hard at the face that was most certainly familiar.

"Oh, Hilargi!" Simon greeted her with a trembling smile, his voice shaky and raw from a great deal of screaming. Politeness drove him to step over the threshold, one foot bare (wherever had his sock gone?) and the other clunking with a blood-splattered boot. Eyes creased in a painfully forced smile, Simon dipped his head in greeting to his employer.

"And, how are you this evening?"

Oh dear.

Simon didn't look... hurt from what she could see or smell. No traces of dark coloured blood on his clothes. It was all bright crimson, and god. God, did it make her thirsty. She was ashamed to think of it in the moment. Ashamed to think of nothing but blood for a solid few seconds as he collected himself in her doorway before stepping inside. The door was shut hastily and she drew a breath she only needed to ground herself.

"I'm okay..." Maybe he was in shock?

"What... what happened?" It was late. They wouldn't have much time before daylight but hopefully enough. She made to usher him toward her office. There were no windows in there.

Hilargi was such a kind woman. Always good for pleasant company. So sweet was her voice, so gentle were her mannerisms. Simon could not ever imagine her as a monster from a horror fiction, with jaws of teeth and razor sharp nails. No, no. She was as a rose, timeless and lovely.

What happened? She was looking at him quite strangely.

Simon glanced down at himself. Back up.

“Ah! It seems I’ve lost a boot.” He remarked.

Within the sanctuary of her office, Hilargi could try and think. Try and figure this out. He looked down, seemingly preoccupied with his missing boot.

"Yes," She frowned. She knew shock. Had seen it before in patients or herself. Her daughter, too. Hilargi knew what it was like to do something terrible you couldn't take back. To find yourself dealing poorly with the aftermath.

"Can you tell me what happened?" She asked gently.

He lifted his unbooted foot from the ground, not recalling that he'd put on a pair of red socks that night.

Then he blinked, lifting his pale face to look at the woman as she repeated her question. What had happened?

In the small enclosed office, Simon could not so easily ignore the permeating smell of blood.

"Well, you see-" His voice came out quite strained, and he cleared his throat, swaying where he stood. "I did not tie it tight enough. And when I sat upon a swing set, it came right off." He laughed thinly. "And right into..." He lifted a trembling hand to his head, unseeing as he tapped his forehead, "Oh, and this fellow... he was so very... angry."

He said his boot came off while swinging and hit someone? A man who was quite angry? She saw the way his hands were trembling before he tapped his forehead.

Oh boy. Hilargi gently helped him to a seat as she caught him swaying, and then took his hands in hers and looked them over.

"Oh, Simon." She said quietly, sadly. "Can you tell me what happened next?" She asked calmly and gently and searched what she could see of him for any marks, wounds, anything? There truly didn't seem to be any wounds, at least nothing that needed tending to. She swallowed down her own need for blood - the smell of it inside her office was... strong. She decided to stop breathing between asking questions.

The world’s perspective shifted, but Simon hardly noticed it at all. He blinked sluggishly at Hlargi’s prompting question, remembering she was here before him.

What next?

Simon shook his head. He remembered everything in polarized detail, flashes of the next few moments etched like photographs in the back of his eyes. The man crumbling to the ground, shedding his clothing as he grew exponentially in size, the way his poncho had concealed a great deal of the transformation until Simon glimpsed a tail, then large and clawed hands, then finally… “Teeth.”

So large, so very near his face. Oh, he had been so frightened!

Teeth.

Whether they were the other man's or Simon's, she couldn't be sure but she nodded. Figuring it all led to bloodlust anyway.

Hilargi nodded, trying to understand. To get some idea of what Simon had encountered and, uh, struggling a bit without more details.

"Are you hurt at all?" She asked gently.

Simon blinked sluggishly, once again recalling where he was, whom he was speaking to.

“No…. No, dear, I’m alright.” He whispered, his head shaking subconsciously as sorrow crumpled his face, “But I fear I must have hurt somebody else. Not the- not this furry fellow, but-“ But someone completely innocent. A man taking trash to a dumpster, with a pair of headphones over his ears. He hadn’t even looked up to see him coming…

He was alright. He didn't seem alright. Physically, maybe. But mentally? Emotionally? He seemed like he was in shock.

And she was starting to put the pieces together. Furry fellow. A were made him bloodlust accidentally. Simon likely killed someone, judging by the amount of blood on his person. Oh dear.

She nodded, having killed many in her past due to fits of bloodlust or vengeance.

"I see," She said gently, frowning slightly in concern and a deeper level of understanding. "Where, um. Where did you leave them?" If there was even the smallest chance the person was still alive, Hilargi could try and help. Feed them blood? Heal their wounds. They probably didn't have a lot of time.

some gore, trauma, ideations of death :,)

---

She saw, and so did Simon.

He saw the whites of the young man's eyes, the blood splattering on his pale cheeks as his chest gave way under uncaring claws. He saw a white shirt stained red in a matter of moments. He saw a pair of headphones scattered on the pavement. He saw a crooked neck, a limp arm, a lifeless face.

Simon could not speak. He could not tell Hilargi the answer to her question. He did not know, did not remember anything until the moment he arrived at the back door. Until now.

Simon made a sound quite like one he recalled from earlier in the night, a strangled groan of pain as he doubled forward and clutched his face, head shaking as he squeezed his eyes shut. No, no, no, no! This was not the kind of person he was. He did not do this, didn't she know?! Simon was a healer, a helper! He was a vampire, but he was harmless! He did not kill, he did not bite those who did not wish him to.

Whatever he had become tonight, he did not know that creature. He did not want that kind of creature to exist, ever, ever, ever, ever again.

But however could he prevent it? He already kept a quiet, simple life. He drank from bags of blood, he did not hunt or harm people senselessly. But there was something within him, some twisted, horrible, sinful instinct within him that he sometimes could not deny. This was the wretched, forsaken spirit that his sire had spent his centuries trying to redeem. But no matter how many of those he healed, no matter how many lives were spared from his own personal sacrifices, there would always be that creature within. A creature uncaring of life. Precious, precious life.

Simon Radley had lived a very, very long life. And in that time, he had done a great many good things, he did like to think. But there came a time when one must acknowledge that one very, very bad thing could outweigh even centuries of good.

Was it too late for him now? Was all the good he'd done erased tonight? Or was there time yet still to spare the deeds yet unmarred by his sin?

Simon was quiet for a very, very long time. Perhaps he forgot, again, where he was. Perhaps he was only deciding how he would ask Hilargi to do what he knew must be done.

He was quiet, and then he was not.

Simon made a horrible cry, one that rattled through Hilargi's own facade and to her core. So, the human did not survive. Okay. Her brain wanted to leap to next steps but she held back, hesitant with the crying man in her midst.

Instead, she stretched out her hands, reaching for the man's shoulders and wrapped him up in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Simon," Hilargi said quietly, her words full of meaning she couldn't even begin to process herself. It had been many years since she last killed someone in a fit of bloodlust but she remembered the feeling. It haunted her to this day.

Hilargi had no body heat, but her hug encompassed him in warmth. Simon leaned into it, eyes squeezed tight, allowing himself to enjoy it. It was nice. Let one of the last things he felt be an embrace.

“Hilargi.” He said after a long time, sober, straightening up to look at her with a soft smile.

“I think I would like to see the sunrise.” He told her.

cw: discussion about suicidal ideation

---

She pulled back eventually to look at his face after he told her he wanted to see the sunrise. Hilargi studied his features as he straightened up a little, and she frowned. He wanted to die. To let the sun be the last thing he saw before he burned. Hilargi had wished for it once for herself. A few times actually. It never got to a point where she found herself counting down until the sun rose but she'd felt a similar pain.

A pain she knew ebbed and flowed. Her brow furrowed, and she reached for his hand to give it a light squeeze.

"Simon... should I... should I maybe call your clutch leader?" She asked quietly, uncertain really if he belonged to the clutch in Alder Heights or Ridgefield. She didn't wish for it to seem like she was pawning him off on another, but maybe it would help bring him down from the ledge to have another person in his corner who cared for him?

Oh, Hilargi. He watched her face limn with concern, with pity for his miserable state of mind. But in fact, he was thinking quite clearly. Much more clearly than he had in a very, very long time.

"Catrina..." He said, thinking of the wonderful, charitable woman who had been so kind to him over the years. Remembering the day she'd come to his home and pulled him from the brink of starvation. Catrina would not like this decision, but he knew in his heart of hearts that she would not stop him. Perhaps it was her he should be asking to accompany him, but the sun would rise soon.

"No, I do not think so. I believe she will understand." He concluded. There were others, too, who he thought must know. If only he had the time to call each and every one of them, to explain to them why he was to do what he must do. Alas. "I think I must write a few letters. Would you provide me ink and parchment, Hilargi?" He requested.

He had made his decision.

cw: blanket warning for the rest of this thread re suicidal ideation and suicide/death

---

His mind seemed quite made up and where Hilargi once might have insisted they reach out to Catrina (Ridgefield, then most likely), today it gave her pause. Hilargi frowned, brow deeply furrowed as she tried to rationalize what they were doing. What she was... agreeing to. It felt... like she needed to help him. If he was certain there was nothing else he could do instead to work his way through this latest trauma, then...

What could she do?

He believed Catrina would understand. Hilargi nodded absently, her concern clear as she reached for a pen and paper. Envelopes. She handed them over to Simon, uncertain how many he needed.

Then she sat down carefully and considered it, her heart already aching.

"You're... sure?" Her voice was a whisper.

Hilargi did as he requested, setting paper and pen before him. He thanked her quietly, sliding his fingers across the parchment, committing the sensation to memory. How many pages had he touched in all of his years? How many words had he scribed? How many books, how many stories? Enough, he told himself. Yes, quite enough.

Before he could begin to write, Hilargi’s sad, soft question gave him pause.

Simon smiled, turned to his friend, and reached to take her hand softly. “I am.” He told her, “I have lived a very long while. I have done many good things. But there will always be some possibility that I may do… do another very bad thing. I wish to preserve the good I have done, while I can.” He said these things very matter-of-fact, though if she had more questions, he would be happy to answer them for her.

If she did not, he would take the ensuring quiet to write three letters.

He took her hand in his and right then and there Hilargi knew that the world would miss him. That she would miss him. She had lost a lot in her long life. Had been in Simon's shoes before and found ways to cope with the atrocities she'd been a part of in her unlife. It was easy to see the appeal when she'd walked down this path before. It was her daughter that always kept her going. Moving forward.

But vampires lived abnormally long lives. It was inhuman. They were not human, even if Hilargi sometimes felt so fucking human in her day to day. She wasn't. Simon wasn't.

They could be monsters. There was always a chance of it, even Simon, and so she understood. Even if she didn't want to lose a friend, she understood. Though to think of her friend as anything resembling a monster was hard when he sat here making preparations for his death for the people who cared about him.

Still, she wouldn't take that peace away from him. Couldn't.

"Okay. I will sit with you until the end, my friend." As a cat, she could see the sunrise. She'd have to leave the office door open. Tell her employees to take the day off. She squeezed his hand and let him go to write his farewells. Pulled out her phone to send a text to her daughter that she would be staying at the office tonight and to let the employees know they'd be closed tomorrow. She would tell Itxaro more later. Tomorrow night.

Hilargi was a very, very good woman. Simon was so very thankful that he got to meet her, even if their time knowing one another was not so long as perhaps it ought to have been. Though, then again, perhaps he was meant to have known her exactly for this amount of time, in exactly this moment, so that when his end finally came, he knew that he had a true friend by his side.

Simon gave the woman a grateful smile, patted her hands lightly, then turned to set to work on his letters.

Some time later (but not too long! the clock was ticking, after all), he had scribed three letters in neat, tight scrawling. With detailed instructions about to whom and to where each was meant to be sent, he was ensured that these messages would rightly reach their recipients.

The clock on the wall had moved ever forward, and Simon fancied that he could feel it in his bones that the sun would rise very soon. So, he straightened himself up, and rose to his full height. Still covered in blood, yes, but smiling. His eyes were clear, and he looked at his companion with the awareness of the man that had lectured in Eton classrooms. He offered her a stately elbow, dipping his head lightly.

“Shall we?” He whispered.

Hilargi also felt the sun's nearness in her bones. It set off automatic alarm bells in her brain and body that she needed to find somewhere dark to hide. Instead, she nodded at Simon and made the necessary precautions so she could return safely. There was a cat door installed for such emergencies in both the back door and her office door. It'd have to do. She opened both on their way outside, taking his arm in hers along the way.

"Where would you like to go?" It should be up to him, after all. It was the first and last time he'd see the sunrise in his long unlife.

It was cool outside, and the sky had shifted from inky black to a pretty deep blush, the clouds etched in dark smudges of purple against the horizon. No sun yet, but very soon!

"I'd like to go up." He said after a contemplative moment, gesturing toward the side of the building and the roof access staircase. In the quiet hours of early morning, they climbed to the top of the shop. The brick and mortar was not especially tall, but it offered an elevated view of their small neighborhood in Valencia. A pair of songbirds warbled in a nearby tree, and a squirrel bounced along the electrical wires between two shops.

A small garden sat in one corner of the rooftop, a small collection of herbs and spices that Simon had been propagating for Akelarre. It was here that Simon chose to settle, smiling softly at his companion. "Best you hurry along, Hilargi." He told her, stepping back to allow the woman the space she might need to turn into an animal. He hadn't yet seen her form, so he wasn't sure what to expect. On last surprise! Oh, wasn't that wonderful?

Up they went to the rooftop garden and Hilargi looked over to Simon and smiled. It had been a while since she, too, had seen the sunrise. She didn't make it a habit to stay out as a cat when it was this close to bedtime. But she would this once. For Simon.

She transformed quickly into a black cat with a white tuft of fur on her chest she often referred to as her bow tie. Tonight, the black cat ambled toward her friend and bumped her head against his shins, willing to stay with him for as long as it took.

"You are loved, and you will be missed dear Simon."

What a wonderful little cat! Simon smiled down at his feline friend, and knelt to meet her eye as she spoke her parting words to him. Oh, he did feel very loved. He would miss those he left behind, but there were very many people waiting for him beyond. Abigail, their sons, his sire perhaps.

With a blood speckled hand, he reached to stroke Hilargi's head lightly, then stood to face the growing sunrise.

A few steps took him to the edge of the roof, where he was outlined in fuzzy pink light that broke over the mountainous horizon. From the pots upon the various shelves and tables, green vines spilled and crawled over the concrete. They slithered up his legs, obscuring his singular boot and bare foot, his blood stained trousers, wrapping around his body in organic swirls. Simon lifted his hands, smiling down at the flowers that bloomed from his finger tips, their bright faces opening eagerly for the sun.

He turned his face as the tendrils wound around his ears, weaving petals through his hair. For a moment, his face felt true warmth as the sun's rays reached through the gaps in the far off mountains, and brushed light fingers over his cheeks. He gasped softly, and exhaled one simple word, "Beautiful."

And then there was such a warmth as Simon had never felt. A brightness that blinded, then wiped away all else. It was pain, but no more than that he'd felt when he'd last taken a human breath.

And only flowers remained.

---

REST IN PEACE

Hilargi had seen vampires die before. Had seen those dearest to her as they turned to ash in the wind. She knew loss deeply. But in all of the years she'd walked the planet, she'd never seen anything like this.

It was simply beautiful. A word that didn't seem to fully encapsulate the moment she saw before her. The flowers that took up residence on Simon's person. The way he greeted the sun confidently like an old friend. It broke her heart, yes, but to see him returned to the earth in such a way was deeply meaningful as well.

Doubt lingered in the few moments leading up to it all. Of course it would. She even took a step closer to him before he was rendered ash before her eyes.

The flowers fell in the spot where he'd once stood and Hilargi knew the world was left a little darker in his absence. In this form she couldn't do much with what was left behind. Not yet anyway, but she'd return later and hope that the wind didn't completely scatter the ashes. In the meantime, she whispered a farewell up to the universe.

"Laster arte, Simon."

---

Basque translation: See you soon, Simon.