Chapter 3
682 Words
I sprint blindly down the luxurious, carpeted hallway of the penthouse. I find the elevator, mash the button, and slip inside the moment the metal doors slide open. As the elevator descends, I tap my foot anxiously, my mind racing.
What time is it? How long was I out? My mother is going to be terrified. She hates it when I stay out late, and with her heart condition, the stress could kill her.
The doors chime open at the ground floor. I step out into an expansive, marble-floored lobby and burst through the revolving glass doors into the bright afternoon sun. The sudden heat of the city hits my skin, grounding me.
I blend into the crowds on the sidewalk, walking as fast as my legs can carry me.
Suddenly, a heavy hand clamps down on my shoulder.
I gasp and spin around. It’s him. The man from the penthouse.
"Lady, listen to me," he says, his voice urgent but quiet enough not to draw attention from the passing pedestrians.
I shake off his hand, my eyes flashing with fire. "Did I not tell you I have a life to get back to? Thank you for saving me, but I don't belong in your rich, polished world. I need to go home."
I turn away, but his grip catches my wrist, strong as a steel vice.
"Let go of me!" I hiss, glancing around.
"You don't understand the danger you are in," he says, his ocean-blue eyes darkening. "The man who attacked you last night wasn't just a thug. He was a vampire. They are hunting you."
I stare at him for three seconds before letting out a harsh, incredulous laugh. "Vampires? Are you insane? I'm not falling for this."
"I am entirely serious," he says, his voice dropping into a low, predatory rumble. "And if you want to survive, you need my pack to protect you."
"Your pack?" I yank my arm back. "I'm leaving. Leave me alone, or I'll scream."
"You leave me no choice."
He holds up his hand. Right before my eyes, the skin around his knuckles ripples. With a sharp, sickening snikt, thick, razor-sharp claws erupt from his fingertips. They gleam in the sunlight, lethal and undeniable.
All the air leaves my lungs.
Fear paralyzes my spine. My mind desperately tries to reject what I am seeing, but the deadly talons are right there, inches from my face.
"Monster," I whisper, my voice cracking.
I turn and run. I don't look back. The city becomes a blur of colors and noise. I sprint until my lungs burn, ducking through alleys and side streets until I am certain I've lost him.
By the time I finally reach my apartment complex, my legs are shaking so badly I can barely climb the stairs. I unlock the door and throw my weight against it, slamming it shut behind me.
The familiar, cramped walls of my home press in on me, offering a fragile sense of safety. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to convince myself that the claws were a trick of the light. A hallucination from whatever drug was in my system.
"Linda?"
I open my eyes. My mother is standing near the kitchen. Despite her pale, sickly complexion, her eyes light up with relief. She rushes toward me and wraps her frail arms around my shoulders.
"Mom, I’m so sorry I didn't come home last night," I choke out, hugging her tightly.
"It's fine, my sweet girl," she whispers, stroking my hair. "You're safe now. Come, I made your favorite potato soup."
We sit at the small, wobbly kitchen table in silence. I stare at the warm bowl in front of me, letting the familiar scent ground me.
"Let us pray," she says softly.
I close my eyes, joining her. I pray that the monsters aren't real. I pray that the man with the ice-cold eyes and the deadly claws is nothing more than a nightmare I can forget. For a brief, fleeting moment, sitting across from my mother, I feel safe.
But then, the knocking begins.
- Writer
