The new neighbor
933 Words
The night wrapped itself around the quiet neighborhood, soft and deceptively peaceful. But Draven felt the disturbance long before it reached Mary-Ann’s street.
A presence.
Old. Malicious.
Too close.
He stood on the rooftop of an abandoned building across from her home, eyes shimmering faintly with predatory gold. To any human, he would look like nothing more than a shadow on the wind.
But he was watching.
Protecting.
Not because he wanted to…
but because he couldn’t stop himself.
The scent of the stalker’s aura drifted toward him, a vampire, but young. Hungry. Reckless. Someone who had sensed Draven’s interest in Mary-Ann and thought to exploit it.
The fool.
Draven vanished.
The young vampire barely had a second to react before Draven grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the alley wall behind Mary-Ann’s building.
“You dare,” Draven hissed, his voice low and ancient, “to follow her?”
The stalker choked, claws scraping uselessly against Draven’s iron grip. “I-I didn’t know she was yours”
“She is not mine,” Draven growled, tightening his hold until bones cracked. “That is the only thing keeping you alive.”
The vampire whimpered.
Draven’s cold eyes glowed brighter. “Go back to whoever sent you. Tell them I am here. Tell them if they come near her again…” He leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper colder than winter, “I will end them.”
He released him.
The young vampire fled into the darkness, half-running, half-crawling.
Draven didn’t watch him go.
His gaze lifted toward Mary-Ann’s apartment window, the warm square of light that had become the only soft place in his endless, cursed existence.
He exhaled.
He needed to be closer.
Closer than shadows and rooftops.
Closer than the night allowed.
And he knew exactly how
The Next Morning
Mary-Ann woke to the sound of footsteps outside her apartment. She pushed aside the curtain and froze.
A man stood in the hallway holding a small box of books, speaking politely to the landlord.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Sharp features.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
Draven.
Her mind flashed back to that night, his silhouette in her room, the cold air, his impossible presence.
Her breath hitched.
No.
No, this couldn’t be real.
He turned slightly, as if sensing her gaze, and their eyes met through the window.
Mary-Ann stumbled back from the curtain.
There was a knock on her door.
No.
No no no
But her body moved on instinct.
She unlocked the door.
Draven stood there.
Up close in the sunlight, he looked… different. Softer, somehow. But still carrying that quiet, ancient intensity she couldn’t look away from.
“Mary-Ann,” he said gently. “May I come in?”
“No,” she said immediately.
He nodded, accepting her tension. “Then may I speak here?”
She crossed her arms. “What do you want from me?”
He lowered his gaze for a moment something almost like guilt flickering across his expression.
“I owe you an apology,” he said. “For entering your room that night.”
She stared at him, stunned at the sincerity in his voice.
“I should not have done that,” he continued. “You were in danger, and I reacted… impulsively.”
“You mean you broke into my house,” she said sharply.
“Yes.”
He didn’t even try to soften it.
The honesty disarmed her more than anything else.
Mary-Ann blinked. “Are you stalking me?”
Draven’s jaw tightened. “No. I’m… protecting you.”
“That’s worse!” she snapped.
Draven opened his mouth, then closed it again — as if he wasn’t used to being argued with.
Finally, he said quietly, “I understand your fear. And your anger. But please listen carefully: someone dangerous followed you yesterday. I intervened.”
Her blood turned cold.
“Who?”
“I cannot tell you yet,” he replied. “But I can keep you safe.”
Mary-Ann shook her head. “I don’t want your help. I don’t even know you.”
His voice dropped.
“And yet… you are in danger because of me.”
She froze.
“What does that mean?”
Draven’s expression hardened, regret mixing with something darker.
“It means,” he said softly, “that staying away from you no longer protects you. My enemies have noticed you.”
Her heart hammered painfully.
“This is insane,” she whispered. “Why are you even here? Why did you move in next door?”
“Because I can’t protect you from the shadows anymore.”
His eyes locked with hers.
“And because leaving you alone is no longer an option.”
“No,” she whispered. “Draven… I don’t want this.”
“But it is happening,” he said, voice low and unbearably calm. “Whether you accept me or not… I will not let them touch you.”
She stepped back and slammed the door in his face.
Her chest heaved.
Her hands shook.
She pressed her back to the door, trying to breathe, trying to think, trying to make sense of anything.
Outside, she heard nothing.
No footsteps.
No movement.
Had he left?
But when she peeked through the peephole, she saw him sitting quietly beside his own new apartment door not leaving, not forcing himself in.
Just waiting.
A dark sentinel at her doorstep.
Watching over her…
Even though she wanted nothing to do with him.
And somehow, that made her more afraid than anything else.
- Writer
