The world became a blur of motion and shadows. One moment, I lay frozen on my makeshift bed, gripped by fear, and the next, strong arms seized me, lifting me off the mattress. A scream caught in my throat as everything shifted around me. The room spun violently, and then—darkness.
A cold wind tore past my ears, sharp and biting. I gasped. The air cut through my lungs like shards of ice. My heart pounded, furious and fast, thundering in my chest. Every beat drowned out the world.
Where am I? What’s happening?
I forced my eyes open, the darkness swallowing everything around me. The faint outlines of trees and rooftops blurred together in the distance. We were outside, moving through the air. My mind struggled to grasp the reality that I was being carried, cradled in someone’s arms, as if I weighed nothing.
Don’t scream, I commanded myself, feeling the panic clawing its way up my throat, threatening to break free. Don’t fight. If he drops you, it’s over. My fingers instinctively tightened their grip on the fabric of his shirt, the material smooth and unnervingly cold beneath my touch. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, each thought colliding with the next as I tried to make sense of what was happening, of who was holding me, and why everything felt so impossibly unreal.
This isn’t real. It can’t be. But it was. Moments ago, I wished for a vampire to take me away. And now, here I am. Being taken but all I want is to go back.
I want to go back.
Tears stung at my eyes, threatening to spill, but I forced them back, swallowing the sobs that rose in my throat. I should be happy, I told myself, my thoughts desperate and frantic. At least this way, I won’t suffer anymore. No more endless shifts, no more Kevin, no parents. No more being miserable.
But my heart refused to listen. Fear clung to me, a heavy, suffocating presence that drowned out any fleeting thoughts of relief or comfort. It pressed down on my chest, making each breath a struggle, every beat of my heart a painful reminder of my own vulnerability.
Is this how it ends?
The thought was a whisper, a soft murmur lost in the darkness that surrounded us. My body trembled in his grip, not from the cold but from the raw, unfiltered terror that coursed through me. This was real—too real—and there was no waking up from this nightmare.
The world below blurred as we flew, city lights dissolving into the darkness behind us. Time lost all meaning, stretching into an endless series of heartbeats until we landed before a towering, rusted gate.
A chill swept over me as I stared at the gate, my stomach tightening with dread. A perfect place for murder. The thought slithered through my mind, unbidden and cold. Is this where he brings his victims?
With grace and fluidity, he vaulted over the gate, carrying me with him. The mansion loomed ahead, a monolith of shadow and decay. Its silhouette cut against the night sky, all broken windows and crumbling stone. A sense of abandonment clung to it, as if it had been forgotten by time itself.
Why are we here?
We slipped through the darkness, entering the mansion through a gaping hole where a window once stood. He set me down carefully, and I stumbled, my hands reaching out to steady myself against the rough, cold surface of a wall.
The only light was the silvery glow of the full moon, filtering through broken glass and casting ghostly patterns across the floor. Dust motes danced in the air, caught in the pale light, and the old, sheet-draped furniture seemed to take on spectral shapes, like phantoms lurking in the corners.
The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of my own shallow breathing. This place was a tomb, untouched by the living.
He knelt in front of me and leaned in closer. His face a mere inches from mine, his cold breath brushing against my skin. I shivered, not just from the chill but from the proximity, the sheer power radiating off him. The smile on his lips was almost a taunt, a reminder of how easily he could break me.
His silence stretched out, heavy and suffocating, like a noose tightening around my throat. Every second felt like an eternity as his eyes bore into mine, reading every thought, every fear.
What does he want? My mind raced, searching for answers, but fear rooted me in place. His gaze was so intense, so penetrating, it felt like he could see into my soul.
“W-what do you want from me?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling—barely audible.
He leaned closer, his cold finger tilting my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Hmm,” he murmured, as if weighing his response.
“Hmm?” I echoed, confusion lacing my fear. His face was so close now, I could feel his breath, like a winter chill against my skin. Despite my terror, I stared back at him. And for a split second, I thought I caught his gaze soften, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Though I may have imagined it.
“I need your life.” he said, his voice steady and unyielding, as if he were stating an undeniable truth.
My life. The words reverberated through my mind, a stark contrast to the silence around us. I should have been terrified, and yet, there was a strange sense of calm beneath the surface of my fear. Someone needs me? My life? It was a feeling I wasn’t used to—a purpose, even if it was wrapped in darkness.
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“For what?” I asked, sarcasm escaping me before I could stop it. “My life isn’t worth anything.”
Freya, stop. I scolded myself silently. You’re talking back to a vampire!
His eyes flashed dangerously, the brief narrowing of his gaze enough to send a shiver down my spine. “That’s for me to decide.” He snapped, his voice sharp and final, cutting through the air like a blade. There was no room for questions, no space for argument.
Of course. I bit my lip, my skin prickling with a sudden, cold realization that hit me. He could kill me at any moment. His gaze stayed locked on mine, assessing, calculating, as if weighing my reaction. But despite the panic rising inside me, I didn’t look away.
Because a part of me didn’t care. Maybe this was easier. Maybe this was what I deserved.
A life lived in the shadows, unloved. My parents. The abuse. Kevin. All of it led me here.
The silence between us grew thick, heavy with unspoken thoughts. His expression shifted, more serious, more dangerous. Without warning, he grabbed my waist, lifting me effortlessly. He moved through the darkened corridors, his steps so silent I couldn’t tell if we were even touching the ground.
He set me down gently on the tower's edge, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary. The full moon bathed us both in its pale glow, casting long shadows that softened the sharp lines of his face. He seemed momentarily lost in thought, his eyes locked on the city below. The sprawling lights stretched endlessly into the distance, like a sea of stars scattered on the ground.
For a fleeting moment, the fear slipped away, replaced by a quiet awe at the beauty of the night. The world felt vast and alive, each twinkling light a small beacon of life. The cold breeze whispered through the air, carrying the scent of earth, and I couldn’t help but be captivated by the serenity of it all.
Standing beside him, under the open sky, everything seemed to slow. The silence was almost comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos and fear that had brought me here. In that brief pause, it was easy to forget who he was and the darkness that surrounded us, leaving only the breathtaking view and the quiet hum of the dancing trees.
“It’s your eighteenth birthday,” he said, breaking the silence.
My birthday. My birthday. The realization washed over me, a cold wave crashing against the shore of my thoughts. I’d been so consumed by fear and survival that I’d forgotten what day it was. Not that it really mattered.
“July 7th,” I whispered, gazing out at the horizon.
This birthday was one I would never forget. Could be my last.
I turned to him, finding his eyes already fixed on me. He knew he held my life in his hands, and that knowledge danced in his gaze, turning his smile into something both magnetic and haunting.
Slowly, he raised his hand, his fingers brushing my cheek. “I will use you," he murmured, his thumb grazing my lower lip, sending a shiver through me. “And drain the life out of you.” The words were a death sentence, delivered with such tenderness that it was almost more terrifying.
Why are you doing this? My mind screamed the question, but only one word escaped my lips. “W-why?”
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against mine. His eyes fluttered closed, as if savoring the contrast between his cool skin and my warmth. “You’ll know in time,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
What does he mean? Panic surged through me, but there was no time to think it over. He pulled back, his face now a mask of calm indifference. Then, with a fluid motion, he reached into his coat and drew out a knife.
An incredibly beautiful knife.
The blade caught the moonlight, shimmering like liquid silver, an artful masterpiece that seemed out of place for something so deadly. But its elegance did nothing to ease the fear tightening in my chest.
“Freya,” he murmured, his voice almost tender, a stark contrast to the sharp edge of the blade he held. I looked up, locking eyes with him, and for a heartbeat, the world around us vanished.
His eyes had darkened, the red irises drawing me into their depths keeping me enthralled. The knife glinted as he moved, his actions a blur of precision. In one swift motion, the blade sliced into his wrist, then mine.
A sharp, burning pain shot through me. I gasped, but his grip was unyielding, holding our wounds together. Blood flowed, crimson and alive, merging into one. It glowed faintly, almost like a promise. A bond. I felt it. More than pain, more than fear—something ancient, binding us. His eyes flickered, just for a moment, with a knowledge I couldn’t reach. Why does this feel… inevitable?
What is this?
He was bleeding, but less than I was. I sensed his aura shift, growing darker and more powerful, radiating danger. He clenched his teeth, his jaw tight as he fought against the overwhelming thirst for my blood. His entire body was tense, every muscle straining with the effort to maintain control, to hold back from taking more than he needed.
He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, as if feeling every drop of my blood as it coursed through his veins, every drop a battle against his instincts. The air between us thickened, growing heavier with each passing second. A burning sensation spread from the wound on my wrist, crawling up my arm like fire. I could feel the pull of his blood entwining with mine, an intimate dance of life and death, each drop binding us closer.
Then, without warning, the pain erupted, a sudden explosion radiating through my entire body.
I screamed, the sound ripping from my throat, raw and broken, as agony seared through every nerve.
It was like fire, like being consumed from the inside out. My veins felt like they were filled with molten metal, my bones splintering under the pressure. It was unbearable,
I bent over, clutching my knees, tears streaming down my face, mingling with the sweat pouring off me. My world had shrunk to this moment, to this unending, unimaginable suffering. Thoughts splintered, breaking apart like glass, leaving only the white-hot burn in my wrist.
And then, as abruptly as it began, the pain ebbed away, receding like a tide pulling back from the shore.
I collapsed to my knees, gasping for air, every breath a jagged rasp. My chest heaved, my body shaking from the aftershocks. I felt like I had been torn apart and put back together, every muscle trembling with the effort of holding myself upright.
I knelt there, panting, his grip still firm around my wrist. I was barely aware of him, barely aware of anything beyond the echo of the pain that had just torn through me.
What was that? One moment I was in agony, the next, I was fine. The pain had vanished, leaving only a faint throb in its place. I felt disoriented, lost, the memory of the pain still lingering, making it hard to think, to process what had happened.
He knelt before me, watching me, capturing every breath I heaved.
“Now,” he whispered, “you’re officially mine.” His gaze held a weight, a depth that spoke of something far beyond simple possession. A connection forged in blood, binding us in ways I couldn’t yet understand.
His cold hands held my arms, keeping me steady. I felt a strange sense of finality, like a door had closed, locking me in.
Exhaustion washed over me in waves, pulling me under, and for a moment, I let myself lean into the darkness. Just for a moment, I let myself forget the terror, the pain, and let the numbness take over.