(Un)Invited

The Guest

It's not as if you were afraid to be home alone. You'd lived on your own for a couple of years and never had a problem. However, tonight, for some inexplicable reason, the air was chillier tonight, like a thin sheet of ice forming on your spine. The night breeze howled against the walls, creating an eerie creaking like the crack of brittle bones. Suddenly the house seemed less like a refuge and more like a cage, keeping you trapped by some unseen, unknowable creature.

You tried to calm yourself down, keep your mind occupied so you wouldn't think about the shadows in every corner. You made some tea, curled up on the couch with a soft blanket, queued up Netflix, and hoped an episode of your favorite show would distract you. Yet even as it played on, it couldn't drown out the ringing alarm in your brain; like a primal instinct. Like prey sensing the hunter.

the chiming doorbell made you jump, nearly spilling your tea. You checked your phone. 10:34 pm. Who would come to see you this late?

The alarm screamed louder, pleading with you not to open the door; to just ignore it, to hide beneath the blanket and hope they go away.

The bell chimes again.

Against your better judgment, you slipped off the couch and walked to the door, cautiously unlocking it and opening it to the uninvited guest.

There beneath the dim porch light, barely illuminated against the black night, stood a man. Or at least, he looked like a man. But not like one you had ever seen. To call him beautiful would be a gross understatement. He was a perfect creature, elegant and striking. The moment your eyes met his icy blue gaze, a mist swallowed your mind, leaving you drifting in a haze.

"Hello," he says in a silken voice, "I apologize for disturbing you so late, but I was wondering if I could come in?"

His words barely register at first as you try to piece together if you've ever seen this gentleman before, or if you had heard a car pull up in your driveway. However, when the request has sunk in, you can't help a frightened look crossing your features as you mumble a 'no' under your breath before pushing the door shut.

A polished black boot stops the door before it could close; you stare at it in fear, slowly tracing your gaze from the boot to his undeniably alluring face, where his cold eyes met yours with deadly intent. You swallow hard, frozen in fear.

"May I come in?" he enunciated each syllable slowly, his dulcet tone entering your ears, and like sweet, soft music that bids you move your body to its melody, his voice tempted you to obey his words. Your body felt heavy, swaying slowly as if you could collapse any minute. Somehow, your mind could focus just enough within the trance to realize that the words leaving your lips were not what you wanted to say.

"Come in."

You screamed inwardly, feeling as though you were in a dream where your voice dies in your throat. He inclines his head in a gesture of thanks, whether it was mocking or not was up for debate, and steps past you with the effortless grace of any feline. You can do nothing but stand there like a dullard, waiting for his command.

"Close the door," his warm voice is right next to your ear, making you shiver involuntarily. You obey him instantly, despite your shaking hands and internal defiance. You wanted to shriek, to call for help, but that inclination was crushed the moment the door shut in your face.

"Now, then," the strange man speaks lowly, his long, beautiful fingers curling around your arms. His touch is cold as death, "Why don't you show me to your bedroom? I want you to be comfortable."

with heavy legs, you trudge onward toward your bedroom near the back of the house. Every instinct fights against whatever spell he's cast over you. Fear prickled you're skin.

"P-please don't hurt me..." you whimper, able to wrangle some control back to yourself.

"There's no reason for me to hurt you," he explains calmly, following right behind you, "Unless you decide to fight."

You round the corner to your bedroom, having to lean on the wall to keep from falling. You have to escape. Somehow. But where would you go? You could just run down the street screaming...

"Go and lie down, my dear," he gently urges, "This won't take long, I assure you."

He must've let his guard down, lessened his hold on her, because you feel the mist lift slightly as you take a step forward. It's just enough. You whirl around, tight fist aiming straight for his gut. If you can just slow him down, and run—

It feels like you hit a brick wall. You cry out in pain, tears forming in your eyes as you look to see his large hand gripping your own with a force no human could command. He seems unamused.

"Strike one," he says coolly, "If you don't want to suffer, you'll get on the bed and hold still."

Despite the pain, panic rising up in your throat, you jerk your knee up to his groin, but before you can even blink he has you pinned, chest against the wall. He leans forward, the tip of his nose brushing along your neck. The terror pumping through your veins keeps you still, trembling. You can feel his mouth smile against your skin as he breathes out a dark chuckle.

"Or this will do perfectly."

"P-please," you mumble, "Please just—"

A sharp sting cuts off your words, two punctures, like large needles pierce your throat. You can only release a high-pitched squeal before the pain silences you. You can feel the blood being drawn from your body, the warm liquid spills slightly from the wounds and you can see it drip slowly onto your shirt from the corner of your eye. The horror slowly dawns on you that you might die tonight.

Then, unexpectedly, another sensation follows the agony. Euphoria. Like nothing you've ever experienced. Pleasure rushes through you, soaking to your bones and causing you to shake. A soft, gasping moan escapes you. The stranger's tongue slithers out and licks the blood from your stained skin. He shivers against you, groaning as if in pure ecstasy.

"I never expected," he whispers, "That you'd taste so delicious."

His lips cover the wounds and suck gently, making you moan again. You felt weak, all the strength leaving your body.

The last thing you know before darkness is you falling back into the stranger's arms and gasping one last time.