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Story Notes:
This story is dedicated to Koohii Kappu. I thought for a long time about writing a spin-off of Dusk that would follow the adventures of Wolfy Shawn (who is, for your edification, nicknamed "Shulte"), but I would never have posted it this soon (or ever) if not for Koohii's encouragement. And for her challenging me to jump onboard the Whumpathon this year. So Koohii, this one's for you.

Besides, the Whumpathon theme this year is "A Vampire In Santa Barbara." How could I possibly resist? ;-)

And, since this is for the Whumpathon, let's slap a T rating on this baby for some fantasy violence, eh? ;-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych, nor do I own any of its characters, settings, trademarks, or related material. Psych and all related materials are the property of their respective owners. The plot and original characters of this story are my intellectual property. I am not associated with Psych, its creators, or any involved parties, nor am I associated with any other media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Author's Chapter Notes:
This is probably going to be the only whump-heavy chapter, but there may be some more minor stuff scattered through the rest of the story. I swore to myself that I wouldn't post any more WIPs ever again, but...clearly I lied. *shrugs*


Prompts: Forest, impalement, bite, blunt force trauma, Ewan

Ewan had no way to be sure where they had taken him, but even before they took off the blindfold, he knew that he was somewhere deep in the wilderness. The rich dampness of rotting leaves, fresh moss, recent rain, and crushed pine needles formed a heady fragrance that distracted his senses. Whatever drug they had given him, it wasn’t something normal; any paralytic that could take him down had to have been specially-made.

Which meant that his captors weren’t from some kind of enemy nation or government agency. And it certainly meant that they weren’t human.

He tried to get a better scent from the masked attackers, but the drugs and the forest smells were interfering. He would just have to wait and see.

In and out of consciousness, sitting with his back against what seemed to be a damp tree stump, he had no idea how long he was held captive, but finally, someone stripped off the blindfold.

“He’s awake,” the man called, his hoarse voice and the scar across his throat betraying an old injury.
Another man approached, taller and leaner. Teeth glinted in the moonlight. A vampire. Like Ewan.

No; not like Ewan, because this man was full-blooded and Ewan was an---

“Abomination,” the vampire greeted him.
Ewan blinked and glanced around, pupils dilating until there was only a sliver of iris left to compensate for the near-total darkness. “What do you want?”
“You sound awfully brave for a man who’s going to die tonight.”
Ewan coughed involuntarily---a reaction to the drugs or the dampness, he couldn’t tell. “If you wanted me dead, you’d have killed me already.”

The vampire chuckled. “Very good. You’re right, Abomination. You won’t die until you tell me what I want to know.” In a blur so fast that a human wouldn’t have been able to see it, he rushed to Ewan’s side and grabbed the half-vampire’s throat. “I know that you’re the agent who stole the defense plans. I also know that you haven’t yet met with your contact from the government, which means that you must have hidden them somewhere. I want to know where they are.”

“That’s a great question and I’d love to help you out,” Ewan replied, “but unfortunately, I have no idea what you’re talking about, and even if I did, that would be treason. So how about you just let me go and I can get some coffee or something?”

The vampire chuckled and snapped his fingers. The hoarse-voiced human snapped a tree branch from a nearby maple and passed it to the vampire.

“I’m sure that you’ve been subjected to all kinds of human interrogation methods and survived,” the vampire said, “because for a human, you’re very strong. But I doubt you’ve ever been trained to handle a vampire’s methods… Because as far as vampires go, you’re deplorably weak.”

“You can give it your best shot, but I still don’t know anything,” Ewan replied, still trying to shake off the effects of whatever it was they’d given him.

As if unhearing, the vampire used his nails to file the branch to a point. Ewan knew what was coming, he squeezed his eyes shut---

The makeshift stake smashed into his shoulder, piercing the skin, punching a hole through the muscle. Veins severed, arteries snapped, Ewan’s blood spraying on the ground, the constant thirst magnified elevenfold---

Need to feed, need to heal---

Slick fangs slid from aching gums with a pop, elongating the canines, his mouth filled with saliva and his eyes with tears, because it hurt like---

The vampire twisted the branch and yanked it free of the wound, savage grin showing moonlight gleaming on his fangs. No, fang, because now through the pain Ewan could see that he only had one; the right one must have been lost somewhere along the way.

The sharpened branch stabbed through the center of Ewan’s chest now, pushing through hard enough to scrape his sternum, until Ewan feared that his bone would be crushed by the force. Until now, he’d managed not to scream, but his body was losing its ability to heal and his entire chest felt like it was on fire.

“Tell me what you did with those documents,” the one-fanged vampire hissed. “We weren’t finished with them yet.”

Ewan mentally filed this information away, just in case he managed to escape from this somehow. Vampires working with a domestic terrorist cell? Lovely.

“I don’t have your documents, and even if I did, I’d never give them to you,” Ewan snarled through the pain.

“We’ll see about that.” The vampire removed the branch from Ewan’s wound again, but this time, he swung it like a Louisville Slugger, and Ewan’s head was the baseball.

If Ewan had been fully human, his skull would be bouncing down the hillside by now, but thankfully the resiliency of vampiric tissue was keeping him alive, repairing his fractured neck---bone, tendons, nerves, blood vessels---almost as soon as it broke. But his body couldn’t last much longer; his neck and head had been healed at the expense of the gaping wound in his chest that was even now pouring out blood.

Desperately thirsty, Ewan could sense each and every creature within a mile radius of his senses, the scarred human man giving off the heat and scent of life and sweetness until saliva was pouring from Ewan’s unwilling jaws. If Ewan had the capability of motion, he would’ve attacked the man in a nanosecond, purely on instinct, purely a monster seeking nothing more than to survive.

But he couldn’t move, still paralyzed, and the thirst sending scorching waves of heat down the back of his throat was quite literally killing him.

The other vampire fed on the human right there in front of him, sinking that lone fang deep into the soft carotid artery, absorbing life-force directly from the source, stealing the healing elixir that Ewan so desperately needed if he wanted to live for much longer. Within seconds, the human fell unconscious, crumpling to the ground, precious drops of redness oozing from the slit in his throat as the minuscule cut sealed over.

The enemy captor made a show of licking his lips and stained fang as he smirked at Ewan. “Are you ready to tell me what I want to know? I’ll ask you again: where are the documents?” His smile turned mocking, eyes cold. “I know you must be starving. Tell me, and you’ll live.”

Mutely, Ewan shook his head, not daring to breathe or open his mouth lest the ache in his throat become more intense.

The other vampire forced his jaw open. “Answer me! Now!”

Despite the burning pain of scenting human blood so close in this state, Ewan shook his head again. “No.” The word came out cracked and dry like the desert wind assaulting Ewan’s throat.

Grunting, the vampire shoved Ewan back and paced around him in a circle. “I have to confess, you’re stronger than I expected. But if you won’t give me the information, then I don’t have a use for you, Abomination. And your human blood will be the end of you.”
Reaching into the inner pockets of his long black trench coat, the vampire produced a metal stake. Shiny, and likely silver---toxic in very high quantities. Ewan was no fool. He knew that the stake wasn’t going to be used as a party decoration. He tried to writhe away, but even though his range of motion was returning, he was in no condition to move very far. The vampire rammed the stake right through Ewan’s midsection, pinning him to the dead tree.

As Ewan shouted in pain, the vampire bit down onto Ewan’s neck.
He screamed in raw agony, struggling to get away, but the stake had him pinned and the vampire’s jaws were clamped tight.

For humans and most other creatures, the experience of being fed upon by a vampire is usually somewhat pleasurable. The chemicals in vampire saliva act as a mild painkiller and offer a sedative effect, along with causing the release of a few minor endorphins. But for a vampire---

The chemicals racing through Ewan’s bloodstream were toxins, and his every vein, every artery, every capillary raged as if caught in a wildfire. Unimaginable suffering, worse than being held in a Siberian underground prison for six months, worse than anything except for being held at gunpoint by his own sister---

That last thought gave Ewan pause, grounded him somehow, gave him the strength to silence his screams even as he felt his life essence being drained away. If he died here, at least Juliet would be safe…

He snarled, one last act of rebellion and defiance, as he steeled himself for impending death.

Another snarl echoed through the woods a split second later, right as Ewan lost consciousness and his world went black.

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