**Blood Amid the Rot**

  The moon hung low in the sky, veiled by a thin shroud of clouds, casting a pallid glow over the wasteland. Gabriel stood atop a crumbling overpass, his dark eyes surveying the ruins below. The world, once teeming with life, was now a graveyard animated by the shuffling, groaning remnants of humanity.

  He took a deep breath out of habit, though he hadn't needed air for centuries. The stench of decay wafted upward, mingling with the metallic tang of blood dried long ago. For a vampire, this was a paradoxical hell. The undead roamed freely, yet their blood was tainted, unfit for consumption. Feeding on them was akin to drinking from a poisoned well—a sure way to end his eternal life.

  Gabriel’s world had been upended months ago when the first outbreaks of the plague spread faster than any government could contain. The irony wasn’t lost on him: humanity, once so vulnerable to his kind, had been brought low by its own creations. The infection was a grotesque joke—a virus that didn’t discriminate between predator and prey. Vampires were immune to its physical effects but not to the starvation it brought. Fresh, living blood was a rarity, and desperation was setting in.

  Tonight, Gabriel hunted—not for the undead, but for the rare survivor hiding among them.

  ---

  The city was a labyrinth of twisted metal and collapsed buildings. Gabriel moved like a shadow, silent and unseen, his predatory senses honed on the faint heartbeat emanating from a nearby alley. He dropped down from the overpass, landing with a feline grace. His boots made no sound on the cracked pavement as he approached.

  The scent hit him first: warm, living blood. It sang to him like a siren’s call, and he felt the hunger rise, sharp and insistent. He rounded the corner and saw her—a young woman, trembling as she pressed her back against a rusted dumpster. In her hands was a crowbar, held out like a talisman against the devil himself.

  “Stay back!” she cried, her voice hoarse with fear and exhaustion.

  Gabriel halted, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “I mean you no harm,” he said, his voice smooth and low, designed to soothe.

  She didn’t lower the crowbar. “You’re not like them,” she said, her eyes flicking to the horde of zombies milling aimlessly in the distance. “But you’re not like me, either.”

  “No,” he admitted. “I’m something else entirely.”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Her heartbeat quickened, and he fought to keep his fangs from descending. He couldn’t afford to frighten her more than she already was.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “Your blood,” he said bluntly. Her eyes widened, and he rushed to clarify. “Not all of it. Just enough to keep me… sane.”

  She laughed bitterly. “So you’re a vampire. Figures. One apocalypse wasn’t enough—we needed a second one running parallel.”

  “Believe me, I didn’t ask for this any more than you did,” he replied. “But you’re alive, and that’s rare. If you help me, I’ll protect you. Those things”—he gestured toward the zombies—“won’t touch you as long as I’m around.”

  Her grip on the crowbar tightened. “And what happens when I’m no longer useful? When you’ve drained me dry?”

  Gabriel took a step closer, and this time, she didn’t flinch. “You’ll have to trust me,” he said. “I’ve lived a long time, but I don’t want to be a monster. Not entirely.”

  She stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any hint of deception. Finally, she lowered the crowbar, though her knuckles remained white. “Fine,” she said. “But if you try anything, I’ll put this through your chest.”

  He allowed himself a small smile. “Deal.”

  ---

  Their alliance was uneasy but functional. Her name was Evelyn, and she had survived by sheer willpower and ingenuity, scavenging supplies and avoiding both the undead and the marauding bands of human raiders who had embraced the chaos. Gabriel admired her resilience, though he kept a respectful distance, feeding only when she allowed it and never taking more than a few mouthfuls.

  In return, he became her shadow, dispatching zombies with lethal efficiency and guiding her through the treacherous streets. He taught her to read the signs of danger—a sudden stillness in the air, the faintest shuffle of feet—and she taught him something he hadn’t felt in centuries: companionship.

  But the hunger never truly abated. Each time he fed, he had to summon every ounce of self-control to stop. The line between ally and prey grew thinner with each passing day.

  ---

  One night, as they camped in the remnants of an abandoned church, Evelyn confronted him.

  “What happens when there’s no one left?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Gabriel didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the broken stained-glass window, where the moonlight painted fractured colors on the floor. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Perhaps I’ll fade away. Or perhaps I’ll become like them—mindless, driven only by hunger.”

  Evelyn shivered, though the night was warm. “I don’t want to end up like that,” she said. “Not like them, not like you.”

  “You won’t,” he said firmly. “Not while I’m here.”

  She met his gaze, her expression unreadable. “And when I’m gone?”

  Gabriel had no answer. The thought of her death, whether by zombie, raider, or his own failing restraint, was a weight he couldn’t bear to examine too closely.

  ---

  The end came in fire and blood. A swarm of zombies breached their safehouse, drawn by the scent of life. Gabriel fought like a demon, tearing through the horde with supernatural speed, but there were too many. Evelyn screamed as the undead closed in, and something inside him snapped.

  The hunger took over.

  When the frenzy ended, the zombies lay in pieces, and Gabriel stood alone in a sea of corpses. Evelyn was on the ground, her neck bent at an unnatural angle, her blood staining his lips. He fell to his knees, a guttural cry escaping his throat.

  The irony was cruel: in saving her, he had destroyed her. Now, truly alone, he wandered the wasteland, a predator with no prey, haunted by the ghost of the only human who had ever trusted him.

  The moon rose higher, casting its cold light on the desolation. Gabriel walked into the night, his shadow stretching long and lonely behind him.