Darkness unwrapped itself from me slowly and in steps. First, I noted that I was lying on something soft and comfy—my bed, I was sure. Then, I could feel and smell crisp, cool night air around me, penetrating what I figured to be a thin sheet.

Almost free from unconsciousness, the memory of the kitchen hit me with a jarring force. I sat up quickly, trembling at the recall of scene. I looked around the room slowly, head shaking nervously and tears of fear welling in my eyes. I pulled the sheet to my body as though it would protect me, but I knew nothing would save me. I knew deep down, he wouldn’t leave and that he hadn’t left me yet.

My eyes moved to the open window as the wind billowed the sheer curtains towards me. The moon was pouring into the room, almost as bright as the sun. I bit my lip, wondering if perhaps the monster did leave after all.

But he hadn’t.

The open window drew my attention to a particularly dark corner of the room. If I hadn’t been terrified beyond rational thought, I would have thought the scene clichéd out of some adolescent vampire romance. But this thing was real and he was staring at me with his arms crossed and body pressed against the wall. His dark, thick hair hung forward, blocking part of his sharp face. The eyes were sleepy and predatorial and any moment he would strike. I was trapped; there was nothing I could do.

“If you’re gonna do it, just do it,” I demanded, voice stuttering.

He waited an eternity to answer, and it was laced with humor, “To what, my dearest love? Devour you?”

The hint of sensuality in the word devour sent a different kind of tremor through me, which I felt was completely inappropriate for the situation. I pulled the sheet closer to my body and whimpered.

“To kill me,” I snapped.

He quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve waited a long time to find you, dearest. I dare not send you back to the grave so soon.”

The creature moved to the bed, quickly though with a ghost-like whisper of sound. He licked his lips, a long drag of tongue against pale lips. I found myself entranced by the small movement. My heart thudded in my ears.

“Are you ready to know our story?” he murmured. “Surely, you must have questions?”

“I do….” I returned, though admittedly, more of me was afraid to know, than to hear his tale.

“Excellent. Let us begin.”

He raised his hand to me as though gathering something in the air. Suddenly, I was able to see…

(to be continued)