Legendary Vampire in the Apocalypse

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"No..."

Adam stirred over his bed, his expression tight. The sheets rustled beneath him, and his blankets curled between his arms. A cold brushed his skin as a groan left his throat.

The groans only deepened as the seconds passed, moonlight filtering in from the slight part in the curtains.

His heart thrummed so hard it reverberated through the bed, his light skin flushed a deep red.

The bed was wet beneath him, drenched from the rivers of sweat falling off of him. The pillow beneath his head had gone soggy, his hair wet.

"No."

Adam’s fists had clenched so hard that his knuckles popped, and his legs only moved by the growing forcefulness of his torso’s movements.

"No!"

Suddenly, his eyes snapped wide, his breath and heart stuck in his throat, forcing his sudden breath down. His naked upper body snapped upwards, and along with it the feel of cold metal somewhat pressed hard within the grip of his hand.

His vision had gone blurred and red, the stirring figure of a dark figure standing, feeling as if it were standing by the foot of his bed. The sharp click of a gun safety releasing resounded throughout the room, and Adam’s finger had been moments from pulling the trigger.

Abruptly, the figure dispersed, and his eyes gradually widened, realising that there was no one there.

Adam grabbed for breath, his shoulders rising rapidly, his chest desperately falling, lungs pulling for air to ease the distress of his wildly racing heart.

He had raised the gun with a single hand, and nearly shot it precisely where the head of the person should have been. In his grip, it quivered a little with the shaking of his hand, and gradually lowered with that same tremble.

His hands lay over his lap where his gaze landed.

The gold of his eyes briefly lingered over his open, quivering hands, the pistol still in his hand. He had only been wearing his dark blue pants from earlier.

"Again..."

His teeth clenched hard, and he dragged himself off the bed with his arms.

In his trembling state, his pursed lips faintly pricked by his stubble, he knocked over the open bottle of pills by his bedside.

They were sleeping pills of the strongest kind.

Adam’s body dropped itself into the wheelchair by the side of his bed, and without adjusting the side armrest of it, closed from being open so he could slip himself into it easily, he dropped the gun over the bed, and his arms dragged the wheels.

The wheelchair faintly rumbled down the wooden floor, and he had immediately brought himself before a tall metal construct. There were dip bars to its lower middle part, where he could reach easily for himself. His arms rose, grasping the foam grip, and he, his breathing gradually calming, grabbed them hard, lifting himself up.

Adam didn’t remain in the position to do dips.

One of his hands reached up to the hand holds dedicated to pull-ups, and he tortured his body to calm his mind.

Pull-up after pull-up groaned out of him. He never kept count of how many he did, going and going, until his muscles strained and he struggled to keep himself going.

Even in that struggle, sweat dribbling and pooling onto the ground below, he continued. His vision flashed with the spark of gunfire and the splatter of blood.

Voices screamed through his mind, grating against his ears, his heart rate that had only barely calmed rapidly climbing.

His remarkably defined upper body pulled along his limp legs, and he growled at each repetition.

Then, the sight of zombies filled his mind with their groans, and the slaughtering of them he had done.

And thereafter, the sight of a bright smile, lying cradled over a white-sheeted bed, in that sanitary room cleansed his vision.

Then all the blood stained it, spilling down the walls, drowning her figure and his screams.

However much time had passed since Adam had woken up, he did not know; however, he was forced to stop when an impact quaked through the floor of his apartment building, from the same floor as him.

It had stunned him out of his stupor so harshly that all the commitment he had put towards pull-ups beyond whatever his limits had suggested that they should be snapped, and he fell.

Adam crashed onto the ground, however, he didn’t care much at all for the impact. He had quickly snapped his head back up, his brows deeply furrowed with his breathing uneven.

"That sounded like it came from the Jameson’s..." His arms, even burning from the pain of the uncounted pull-ups, dragged him to rise. His paralyzed legs scraped over the ground as he hauled himself back onto his wheelchair. "But I killed them and cleared the floor. Someone fought their way up here?"

With that thought, his brain had been rushing, but he didn’t fully commit to it. And with his mind working, he thought of another possibility, "Or did they come up here through the fire escape ladders?"

At the same time that he had been thinking of this, the commotion continued from the Jameson’s home. The sound of the person’s voice, though clearly male, what he had been saying was muffled too much for him to hear because the Jamesons’ apartment was further down the hall.

’They might be awakened!’

That thought urged Adam forwards. He drove his wheelchair towards his closet where he ripped out a shirt, slipping it on quickly. He couldn’t care less about the sweat on himself right now.

Then he drove back down his room, and he took the pistol from the bed and the keys off of the bedside counter. At that last action, for a few moments, he had paused looking at the sleeping pills.

’I can’t afford to sleep that deeply again.’

Adam turned without picking up his prescription, and he drove for his closed bedroom door. The key rose, and he unlocked it, bringing himself a little away from the living room.

As he rolled out of the room, turning down the hall that led into the living room, he was brought to face with a shotgun propped up with what should have been a tripod.

There were strings connected to its trigger that ran down the living room to the front door’s hinges. It had been set level with the head, and hadn’t gone off yet, so he rode down the hall with a slight degree more comfort, though his urgency remained the same.