Planning to pull an all-nighter sometimes works out better in your head than in reality. Time passes excruciatingly slowly. Many a night had been spent half awake in the past, but the exhaustion that pulls on his eyes is no joke. Technically, spending two days awake before getting a night of haphazard rest had his eyes closing ever so slowly, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Pinching himself awake didn't work, and eventually, despite his vigilance, he must have dozed off for a couple of seconds. Because the next time he opened his eyes, there was a cool breeze brushing across his face. Frowning in discomfort, he shifted his body to face one of the two windows in the bedroom. A soft, rhythmic creaking invaded his ears; the shutters were swinging ever so slightly in the breeze as the moonlight shone into the room through the open window.
Heart leaping to his throat, he froze. That window…was definitely closed before, right? There's no way he would open it; nobody was that stupid. But he did have a habit of opening the window before bed to avoid turning on the air conditioner. Would he have forgotten about that in his tired state? No, yes? Maybe.
In a lapse of judgment from his tired brain, he carefully stood up and reached to close the window, after all, if it was just a mistake, he didn't want to blow it out of proportion. Feet settling against the cold wooden floor, another breeze wafts through, and his body shivers, the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rising in tandem. Breath pools in front of him, visible in the chill, and his hand brushes against the shutters. Something touches his leg.
Eyes blown wide, he snaps his head downward, but it's too late. Sharp fingernails dig into his skin, causing him to let out a cry of pain. The hand pulls, and his vision shifts. His head smacks into the floor, and his eyes go blurry from the pain before sliding up, following the hand all the way until he spots the figure under his bed. Bright red eyes were staring at him, drool was pooling out of the corner of its mouth, and sharp fangs revealed themselves when a tongue peeked out to lick it away.
"Ahaha…" He laughs in disbelief. There were a million different things he had thought of happening, but never once did something like this cross his mind. This wasn't a human; this was a monster. How was he supposed to deal with something like this? He might as well just accept his fate…no, he wasn't dying like this. Not to some stupid monster under the bed.
A decision being made, he stomps his free foot on the monster's nose. It makes a sickening crunching noise and cries out in pain, letting his leg go. Summoning his strength, Gabriel leaps up and races toward the door. Stumbling through, he turns around to try to close it behind him, just catching a glimpse of the monster. It had already recovered, chasing behind and getting closer by the second, so he slams the door closed. Ignoring the thump behind him as the monster collides with the shut door, he focuses instead on reaching the kitchen.
There was a crash as the door behind him was flung open. Scrambling into the kitchen, his eyes land on one of the knives. Grabbing it, he turns around and flings it straight into the monster's face right as it reaches for him with outstretched claws. The thing grunts in pain, claws scrabbling for purchase on the knife, unsuccessfully trying to rip it out. Eventually, it manages to get it out of its face, throwing it to the floor as the flesh on its face slowly heals.
"Ha…hahaha!" This sends him into another laughing fit. Because, of course, it's not just a monster. Looking at all the clues, it should've been obvious from the start. Vampires. They're dealing with vampires. This sick game is throwing vampires at them! The thought is enough to end the laughing fit, as his stomach heaves, wanting to empty its contents. Ugh, this isn't the time for this; luckily, vampire weaknesses have been spread throughout fiction. Even if it doesn't work…it's enough to try. And he just so happens to be living in the house of a carpenter.
While the vampire is still healing, he runs back down the hall, beelining for the workroom. Throwing the door open, he closes it just as fast and grabs one of the half-finished carvings along with the wood carving knife. Sitting down with his back to the door, he starts carving the piece of wood into a wooden stake. It's crude and on the thicker side, but it'll work. He takes a calming breath, stands up, and very carefully opens the door.
The vampire is upon him in seconds, sharp teeth aiming for his neck and claws digging into his chest, leaving a line of scratch marks down his chest. Before the fangs can encircle his neck, he juts out the stake. It lands right on the vampire's chest, sinking into it and releasing a splurt of blood onto his face. And…and…the body was still warm as it stilled, the blood dripped down his face and onto the hard concrete of the alley, "Don't cry, don't be scared." He said. But how could he not when…when…No. He needed to focus; this was not the time. Another one of those things could be coming, and if he dies, this would all have been for nothing.
When he finally comes back to himself, there is nothing in front of him but a pile of ash. He wants to laugh again, at the absurdity of it all, and at the relief of being alive. But now the exhaustion was pulling at his bones and his eyes. Against his will, they slowly sink closed, and he falls asleep right then, and there, the crude wooden stake still clutched tightly in his hands.
Waking up the next morning, for a second, Gabriel is almost certain he died. The sun shone through the window of the workroom and onto his face. The bright light clouded his vision, and for a few groggy moments, he started to contemplate the fact that heaven was real, before the pain hit him. The scratch marks on his chest and ankle burned, and his head was throbbing. He hissed in pain and sat up, holding onto his head. The pile of ash was exactly where he left it, and he had no will at the moment to clean it up.
Instead, he slowly lumbered over to the statue on the mantel. Grabbing it, he returned to the workroom, got the biggest hammer he could find, and then went outside. Inhaling the crisp morning air, he placed the statue on the ground and swung the hammer. Utterly destroying it.
Dropping the hammer, he heads straight to work. There was no desire in him to stay in the house a second longer, and instead, he longed for the dull monotony of building coffins, as grim as it sounded. It helped him think and relax, which was something he sorely needed right about then.
The village was like a bubble about to burst; anyone who came into his shop had no desire to talk. The death count had risen again, and the victims were no longer just the elderly. Young, relatively healthy people had been slaughtered. Now that he knew what they were dealing with, it was obvious it wouldn't stop until every single person in the village was dead or turned.
Of course, while he needed time to think, he wasn't just sitting idle. Between every coffin he made, a stake was carved. First one for him, then one for every Player, and then enough for each of them to have an extra. By the time midday rolled around, he was secure in the knowledge that they at least had a way to protect themselves. That was when Dahlia burst in. When she caught his eye, she had a look of intense relief and almost sank to her knees. Moving to support her, he made sure she didn't completely fall to the ground as she caught her breath.
"What were you thinking? If you were alive, why didn't you just wait at the house? I went to check on you this morning, and when I knocked and nobody answered, I thought…I thought…" She bit her lip to choke back the sobs that started racking her body. The display had him stunned; he hadn't thought she cared that much about him, though in retrospect it would've been better to wait and explain.
"Sorry, I wasn't thinking when I left…I just needed to get out of there." Gabriel apologizes, rubbing a comforting hand on her back.
"No, no, it's fine. I'm sorry for getting so emotional." She sniffles, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes, "It's just, I have bad news. Marcella and Joseph…they didn't head into work today. I think they might be…"