Chapter Text
His stomach constricted, nothing but bile to keep it sated. He hadn’t been able to feed since that Raider had crushed him within the trash beast. The after effects of the poison forcing any blood Zanka could drink to reemerge unceremoniously into a nearby basin, whether that be a toilet or sink was up to how long he could hold it back. Each time this happened Eishia would sputter out apologies, putting down her own ability, for not being able to remove the toxin from his body. Each time Zanka would assure her it was his own fault, his own weakness that landed him in this situation.
Eishia was among the very few people that knew of Zanka’s ailment, his dependency on blood. It disgusted him, really. She had to know he was a Vampire, otherwise questions would arise if she witnessed his flesh stitching itself back together at abnormally fast rates. He sighed. Bored, alone and starving. Zanka wished he was normal, that way he’d at least be able to fill up his days in the medical ward with useless conversation. Dull down his hunger. However, it was due to this hunger that nobody was able to come check in on him. He understood, he didn’t want to harm anybody. Still, he thought wistfully, a distraction would be nice.
He ran his hands along Lovely, the texture of her grain soothing his restlessness. He gently muttered sweet nothings into her, pressing his forehead against her shaft. Her presence helped keep him sane during his recovery, and for that Zanka would always be grateful. She had always remained by his side no matter how shitty everything became. She was a constant in the endless push and pull of existence.
His eyes snapped open, suddenly alert. There was a faint scraping noise coming from outside one of the windows. His hands instinctively tightened around Lovely, heart rate picking up. “What the hell…” he muttered, slipping off the bed with Lovely. He grit his teeth as a wave of nausea slammed into him, likely as a result of the poison and his empty stomach. He stumbled, catching himself with Assistaff. With her help he reached the window, scanning the horizon thoroughly before he huffed. He was just being jumpy, there was nothing of note out the window.
“Whatchu lookin’ at Zanka-Kun~?”
Zanka spun around, heart hammering as he instinctively activated Lovely, only to be met with an empty ward. A hallucination? No. The toxin was almost completely flushed from his body. Just as he was raising Lovely to locate the invader with her vibrations, manic cackling began above him. His attention snapped upward, landing on the cause of his current torture. Jabber Wonger. Without forethought Zanka reeled backward, launching Assistaff toward the deranged Raider.
Jabber’s laughter died down to a snicker as he jumped from the ceiling, barely avoiding Lovely’s prongs as he landed poised on the balls of his feet in a crouch. “Relax man, I’m just here to chat”, Jabber said with a slight smirk on his face. Zanka cringed absentmindedly at the damage the pair had caused to the ceiling as Assistaff clattered to the floor. “The hell ya mean ‘chat’ you psycho?” Zanka growled, inching forward to retrieve lovely between the two of them.
Jabber hummed, plopping down onto the floor cross legged. “You know, have a conversation. Man, that fight you put up in the trash beast? It’s been on my mind, It was amazing Zanka~ I still gotta couple of your gifts on my body” he giggled, biting his lip as he pressed down on one of said ‘gifts’. Zanka let out a disgusted noise “freak” he spat out, keeping Assistaff raised. He may be in terrible shape but he wasn’t interested in going down without a fight.
Jabber continued, pointedly ignoring Zanka’s insult, “so I thought to myself, why not continue the fun?”. Zanka stared, shifting on his feet. “Continue the fun?” He questioned, the sound of Jabber’s blood rushing through his veins inhibiting his thoughts. He swallowed thickly. “Cmon Mr Bad attitude, I know you’re smarter than this” Jabber huffed, leaning his head on his hand. Zanka pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to temper his distain so he had a chance of surviving the homicidal maniac in front of him.
The raider sighed, feigning annoyance with that manic grin on his face, “Let’s exchange blood yeah? The thought of us fighting again really gets me going…” his idle chatter died down to a buzz in the back of Zanka’s head. Blood. He shivered, hearing the word said aloud made his stomach twist. All he could do was use every last shred of his willpower to not turn the man, the very dangerous one at that, in front of him into a meal. He felt himself begin to salivate, his fangs slowly pushing out of his gums.
He didn’t hear Jabber when he announced he would go ahead with his plan, the only thing he could focus on was the way his blood would taste. Jabber sauntered over to him. He lifted Mankira to his own wrist. Blood pooled along the line Jabber had carved into himself. Zanka’s restraint snapped and he lunged forward, tackling the Raider to the ground eliciting a surprised yelp. He pinned the man down, shoving against him with all his bodyweight to keep him subdued, unconsciously digging into the fresh cut.
Jabber let out a breathy groan, muttering something that Zanka couldn’t compute. He leaned forward, shoving Jabbers chin up before he sunk his fangs into his neck. Zanka had never had human blood, he had never stooped so low as to drink from anyone even if they had it coming. It felt wrong, it felt dirty. But now, feeling the warm blood coating his throat, he couldn’t care less. It tasted amazing.
Jabber struggled against the Cleaner’s hold, enjoying the pain of being punctured not the confusion that the entire scene had filled him with. “What the hell are you doing?” He spat, managing to shove Zanka off of him. And oh, the sight that graced him in that moment would paint his dreams. Zanka’s eyes were glazed over as he licked the remains of blood off of his lips, flashing those abnormally long canines that had just ripped through the Raider.
Before he could open his mouth Zanka was back on him, biting a new hole into his neck to drink from as he doubled down on his efforts to contain his prey. Jabber was conflicted. On one hand of course he enjoyed the rough treatment, on the other he had no idea why Zanka was drinking his blood or what had encouraged him to do so. He hated feeling out of his depth, he hated feeling so out of control of the situation, unable to get a read on the other’s intent and emotions.
He growled, uncomfortably twisting his wrist to puncture Zanka with Mankira. After a couple seconds of writhing he managed to stab her into the Cleaner’s thigh, injecting him with paralytics which made him promptly collapse on top of him with a grunt. He shoved the dead weight off of him, reaching up to feel at his neck. The flesh was mangled, akin to a wild animal attack. He grumbled as he rose to his feet, dusting himself off as he glanced down at the paralysed man.
“That was weird as fuck, now why did you do that hm?” He forced out a giggle as he watched the cleaners eyes finally clear from the haze they had been in earlier. He looked terrified. The sight made apart of Jabber’s plastered smile become truthful as he snickered. “It ain’t fun fighting a man who can barely stand alright?” He announced while smearing his blood on Zanka’s choker. “You got a lot of explainin’ to do after this Mr Leech”
He dipped his finger into the puncture wound on the man’s thigh, revelling in the hiss it caused as he smeared the blood onto his own choker. “I’ll be in touch~” he waved back at Zanka who lay on the floor, who was regretting every moment he had spent breathing beforehand. Zanka was powerless as he watched Jabber disappear through a window and into the night. Powerless when Eishia came in a few hours later and stared in silent horror as she stood in the Ward’s entrance, clutching her clipboard tightly against herself before she ran to get help.
Zanka was so Screwed.