THE MARK OF THE PAST
570 Words
Elara’s breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as she jerked free from his grasp. "You’re insane." She staggered backward, pulse pounding so loudly she could barely think.
The man—**this creature—**didn’t move. He simply watched her, his black eyes glinting like midnight stars.
"You already feel it, don’t you?" His voice was velvet, smooth and dangerous. "The thirst. The change."
Elara’s hands clenched into fists. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
But she did.
The cravings. The sensitivity to light. The sharpness of her senses.
She had been changing.
And now, standing in front of this stranger, it felt as if something buried deep within her had been unlocked.
She turned on her heel and ran.
The empty street stretched ahead, but she didn’t care where it led. Anywhere was better than here.
But she barely made it three steps before the world blurred.
And suddenly—
He was there.
Standing in front of her.
Waiting.
Impossible.
Her feet skidded against the wet pavement as she halted. "What—how—?"
His lips curled. "You can run, but you won’t escape what you are, Elara."
The way he said her name made her skin prickle.
He knew her. But how?
A gust of wind swept through the street, carrying the scent of rain and something darker—blood.
Elara’s stomach twisted. The same hunger from before clawed at her insides, sharp and unrelenting.
Her fingers flew to her throat. No. This isn’t real.
The man stepped closer, his movements unnervingly smooth.
"It’s only a matter of time," he murmured.
Elara stumbled back again. "Stay away from me."
The flickering streetlights cast long, distorted shadows as she turned and fled.
This time, he didn’t follow.
Or maybe he didn’t need to.
Because his voice curled through the wind, slipping into her bones like a promise.
"I will find you again."
---
The subway station was nearly deserted when Elara arrived.
She threw herself onto one of the metal benches, gripping her arms to stop the trembling.
What the hell just happened?
She pressed her hands to her temples, willing her heart to slow down.
The hunger hadn’t left. If anything, it was getting worse.
Her throat burned. Her teeth ached.
She shut her eyes, trying to force the memory of that man—his voice, his touch, his impossible speed—out of her mind.
But she couldn’t.
Because deep inside her, a name whispered through the darkness.
A name she had never spoken before, yet somehow... she knew it belonged to him.
Tristan.
Her eyes flew open.
How? How did she know that?
She shook her head violently, refusing to let the name settle in her mind. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
A distant rumble filled the underground station as the subway train approached.
Elara exhaled, forcing herself to stand. She needed to get home. She needed to think.
But as the train doors slid open and she stepped inside, she caught sight of something in the window’s reflection.
A shadow.
Standing just behind her.
Watching.
Her blood turned to ice.
But when she spun around—
There was no one there.
Only the wind whispering through the tunnels.
Yet, as the train pulled away from the station, Elara could feel it.
Somewhere, hidden in the shadows, he was still watching.
And no matter how fast she ran—
He would always find her.
- Writer
