>It was a dark and stormy night — except it was day time, around noon, and though the skies were the color of wet concrete, the narrator was full of shit and it was not raining
>And you are Mike Sapone
>Mike Sapone, an angry manlet turned vampire, who has two things running through his mind at this very moment: a desperate lust for blood, and a sharp mental pain that his future is draining away right before his eyes, much like the blood that's draining from this dog's neck
>That's right, you've got a dog by the neck
>A family-looking mammal, evident by his beer gut, his slightly graying (otherwise wonderfully golden) colored fur, his too-big-for-him polo shirt and goofy cargo shorts
>As you plunge your fangs into his quivering neck and get a mouthful of fur, there's an explosion of hot salty blood in your mouth
>The anthro dog struggles, but you've been imbued with a Twilight-tier strength, making you one mean motherfucker
>You bite extra hard, secretly hoping that you sever an artery or something
>He shudders, his eyes roll upwards, and he droops helplessly in your grasp
>It takes you only a little bit of your newly found strength to keep him from collapsing onto the bathroom floor of the Burgershack
>Poor bastard was just washing his hands when you ravenously descended upon him
>You suck hard, feeling your belly fill and grow, hot with blood
>Something inside of you goes slack
>You can feel your muscles start to relax and thoughts slow from a manic bullet to a contented wisp of smoke
>God, you're not proud of what you're doing, at all, but you were so hungry — feral, almost
>You drag the still bleeding golden into the stall, shut the door, and…
>Eww…
>You crawl out underneath the divider and back into the bathroom
>You wipe a smear of blood from your lip with the back of your hands as you stare into the mirror
>You're pretty sure only you can see yourself in the reflection, because that dog didn't even seem to care that you were standing right behind him with ill intent
>Your emerald-green eyes, alight with a red glow, stare back at you
>God you've changed
>Your already pale skin is even paler now
>Your eyes are sunken in, bags underneath them the color of bruised fruit
>You lips, were they not soaked in hot blood, are nearly blue
>And despite all the transformations, you're still pretty short and kind of stocky
>Somewhere some muscle grew — the muscles you used to clock Anon, of course
>Thinking back on it makes you feel like shit
>But you tell yourself he's the one responsible for all of this
>This… thing you're becoming
>It's not you
>What's it matter anymore anyway? It's you now
>It's not you
>No, it is you, and you're going to be like this forever
>It's not you
>You're going to be trapped here in this podunk fucking town for the rest of your life, just like Sam and Anon, who can't sack up and leave
>It's not you
>It's not you
>It's not you!
>You throw your fist into the mirror, as if you could strike the 'you' on the other side and obliterate him
>The mirror shatters, glass shards flying downward in a glinting rain
>You catch only little bits of yourself in the showering glass — a fractal image of the whole Mike Sapone
>Somehow, in the scant seconds that you see yourself reflected back in the falling shards, there's a young man there, bright green eyes, healthy, warm skin, and someone tall and well-dressed standing next to him
>Anonymous, and you, standing side-by-side
>Then the image is gone when that glass clatters into the sink, and time sets back upon itself
>When you look down at your trembling pale fist, the richness of your blood contrasts with ghastliness of your skin
>You can't help but laugh
>You really have become an edgelord now
>And in all of your laughter, you don't even notice the tightness of your throat, the stuttering of you heart beat, or the tears cutting down the caked on grime on your face
>You swiftly exit the bathroom just as a pup — fur as gold as his father's — skirts past you, probably looking for his dad
>Next, you stop at a convenience store for some pain killers
>Your head is killing you
>And so are your bloody knuckles
>So many noises fill your ears
>Everything seems to have been raised to painfully sharp levels
>You can hear the dead drone of the music overhead and pick out every single instrument and every note
>You can hear the cooler's fans kicking on, chilling some drinks
>You swear you can hear the harsh blood of the female cheetah at the counter flowing in her succulent veins
>It takes a tremendous effort on your part not to launch yourself over the counter at her and feast
>You shove the little packet of pills into your pocket, scanning the ceiling for any security cameras
>There's at least three, so you stuff an extra few into the waistband of your jeans and throw your shirt over them
>Who gives a shit if you get caught, man?
>Nothing matters anymore
>You convince yourself you don't feel nothin'
>You're going to live out the true edgelord vampire shit
>Fuck college
>You can't go
>Fuck getting out of this town
>It's not going to happen
>Fuck everyone and everything
>All they've ever done is let you down
>"Ahem."
>You turn around
>The cashier is standing at the end of the aisle, impatiently tapping her feet, arms crossed over her dark blue vest with a pin on it that says “Have a great day!"
>She does not look like she's having a great day
>She's old, with stress-lines pressed deeply into her skin, a sizable amount of pudge gathering around her hips, waist, arms, thighs, etc etc
>She couldn't be more than 35, but she looks at least 60
>60 and pissed
>"You need some assistance robbing my store, sir?"
>You don't know why you say what you say next, but you don't care
“Actually, that would be great. Could you get me a pack of smokes, snapjaw?"
>The cheetah's face twists up into a snarl
>"You little shit. This store is my livelihood. Put 'em back, skinnie"
“Why?" You take a small step backwards
>"Why? What do you mean 'why'? Stealing is wrong, and if I let one more shoplifter out the door corporate is going to fire me. Put. Them. Back."
>You flinch
>Sure, feeding on that retriever was one thing — you had to, or you'd probably die. And you didn't hurt him or really cost him anything
>But this was ruining someone else's life
>F-Fuck this town, right? G-Going to raise hell
>The emergency exit sign glows behind you like a beacon
>The cashier's body tenses up for a chase
>The seriousness of her threat is made all the more apparent by the way her jaw falls open, revealing a jagged set of teeth, yellowed with years of smoking and poor dental hygiene
>Fuck it
>Fuck everyone
>These pills may not be worth dying over
>It's the general principle of the thing that moves your legs right out the door
>The emergency exit screeches in protest
>And it really does screech, as the fire alarm explodes in protest as you bolt out the door
>The cheetah clamps her hands over her ears, but manages to push on after you
>Oh hell
>You leg it out around behind the store, knocking a few trash cans down as you make your less than daring escape
>With your vampiric powers, your body seems to absolutely FLY across the asphalt and down the smoothed sidewalk
>You pass Halloween decorations and seasonal costume stores that blur together in an orange and black smear
>You throw a glance over your shoulder
>She's still behind you, but losing steam quickly as years of habitual smoking and poor eating habits literally destroy her career at the convenience store
>Ignoring the sudden pangs of guilt now rising in your stomach like acidic floodwaters, you keep sprinting, the sidewalk now curving up into a hill, pressing its slope into your lungs
>God damnit
>You stand atop the hill panting, the chase long since over, the cheetah long since collapsed in an exhausted heap onto someone's lawn, bawling and begging for you to come back
>You may have incredible, super-human strength, speed and agility, but even you get tired and guilty
>And to be honest? You feel like absolute shit right now, physically and emotionally
>You can never go back there, and that was where you and Anon would get slushees after school
>And this neighborhood that you're now in…
>…It's so perfect
>The houses are neat and prim, large and well-kept
>The lawns may be yellow, but the paint is unmarred by the seasons, the windows are clean, there are new cars in the driveway and carved pumpkins garnishing every porch
>Not to mention all the fake cobwebs and skeletons strewn across the dead grass
>This is where suburban families live
>Families like that golden retriever you attacked
>They wake up at orderly hours — some at dawn's first light — and they hoof it to work and then back
>They eat quiet and healthy dinners and are in bed by 10
>They are silent in their contentedness
>And where are all the people?
>Where is everyone milling around, visiting small shops, attending ragers, skipping class?
>Everywhere you look it's void of life
>Just clones of clones of houses and not a soul on these pristine sidewalks
>It's just you in suburbia, the lone phantom, haunting the hoity-toity part of town…
>Here forever, or until you work up the nerve to kill yourself
>You're burning every bridge now — with town, with Anon, with Jenna, Alex
>How many until you set fire to the one you're standing on, Mike?
>All you ever wanted to do is escape this shitty town and live a new life with new people and new friends and do…
>…Something that matters
“FFFFFFFUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!" You shout into the uncaring clouds
>The sky answers back with the distant rumble of scattered thunder
The Leaves of Fall Act 2: Fear the Nobodies (Part 19)
You've never really 'fit in' with the heavily divided Ranchview High School crowd. Jock, Goth, Prep, Cheerleader, Nerd... you were never any of these. But as Halloween approaches, strange things start happening, and a dark ritual begins with the finding of a curious red book. It's a race against time for you and your friends to stop a group of students from ushering in an age of darkness, and to also figure out just what the hell is wrong with that rabbit.
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About this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.
Cover: https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q
Sam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT
Fan art collection: https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv
Accompanying playlist (WIP): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J
Alternative link: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078
Total word count: 147,552 words
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.
Cover: https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q
Sam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT
Fan art collection: https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv
Accompanying playlist (WIP): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J
Alternative link: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078
Total word count: 147,552 words
4 years ago
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Estimated reading time
8 Minutes
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