(Un)Invited

Marked

The sunlight from your bedroom window slipped in through the cracks in your blinds; you stirred, groaning as you push yourself up onto your elbows. A sharp pain makes you gasp and reach up to touch your neck, where your fingertips brush over two puncture wounds. The skin around them is raised and warm to touch, you drag yourself from your bed, still weak, and go to your bathroom to assess the damage. Perhaps your mind was more still cloudy from the way the stranger had hypnotized you, but every step felt like a dream as if you only thought you had been bitten. Last night must've been some horrible nightmare...
The mirror dashed that hope as you beheld the inflamed holes in your throat, your skin splattered with dark, ugly bruises. The sight weakened your knees, your legs trembled, threatening to buckle beneath you. You gripped the sink counter to steady yourself, trying not to hyperventilate as breath refused to enter your lungs.
Last night had been real. Terrifyingly real.
I never expected you'd be so delicious...
That's what he had said to you before you fainted. Did that mean he would come again for another meal? Would he kill you this next time? It was frightening enough to wrestle with the fact that such a thing as vampires exists, but now you also have to wonder if you're being stalked by one. Would you have to stock up on garlic and crucifixes?
Yet, in the midst of your anxious thoughts, the remembrance of the stranger's fingers gripping you, his lips on your flushed skin as you trembled under him, and the unimaginable pleasure once the initial shock had subsided made you ache; and you hated it. You had been violated, assaulted...
But the way his words caressed your ears was enthralling. Even the fear had been thrilling in its own way.
Pushing the thought away in disgust, you fumble through a drawer to find some antibiotic ointment and some Band-Aids. You had to think that vampire wounds would be treatable as any other. They stung as you applied the ointment, your fingers still shaking. You had to lie down before you fainted again, groping along the walls to stay upright. You barely managed to collapse on your bed with a heavy sigh. Before you could have another coherent thought, your eyelids fluttered closed and unconsciousness overtook you again.
It wouldn't be unusual to have a nightmare after such a traumatic experience; which is what you should be having. Yet as you lay asleep, cold and weak, all your mind is filled with is the stranger holding you close to his chest. He's whispering, but it's hard to make out exactly what he's saying; even still his voice touches deep into your soul, caressing you like the gentle kiss of the mist in the air. Your skin tingled with each dulcet word. The strangest thing was, even having gotten a good look at him, the sight of his face escaped you. He was no more than a shadow, an incomprehensible figure looming in the dark corners of your mind. His hands...those hands striking and cold as jewels sliding over you in the silver moonlight. They'd made you shiver over cloth, you could only imagine what they'd feel like over your bare skin.
This dream, these fantasies, recurred over the next few days, unstoppable and persistent. Your mind buzzed at the thought of him, your heart hammering in your chest as you checked over your shoulder at night. You wanted to see him standing over you. You needed to feel that unbearable bliss that came with the anguish of his bite. The memory of his voice made your thoughts hazy, your mind drifting lost amid a dreamy sea. You craved him.
What had he done to you?
There was nothing besides pure wishing that would give you the chance to encounter him one more time. In all likelihood, you would never see the stranger again. The thought made you feel a pang of emptiness as if he'd...marked you.
The only thing that you had to distract you was work, a night shift bartending which you'd had off that fateful evening. It was slow tonight, which wasn't odd for a weekday. The hard rock music drifted over the speakers as you stood behind the counter, bored and staring at the clock for when your shift would be over.
Suddenly, in the midst of the relative quiet, the door of the bar swung open to reveal a group of three men. One looked like a stoner, dark circles beneath his eyes with shaggy blonde hair sweeping over his eyes, the second one wore a leather outfit, a bright red streak in his black hair. The third was...familiar. He had thick, curly dark hair, dressed in a t-shirt and leather jacket. He carried the braggadocio of one in charge, swaggering into the bar with the other two trailing behind him like body guards.
And his face...you recognized it from somewhere.
The two lackeys fell back and found a table in the corner as the leader approached the bar, leaning against the counter and flashing a wicked grin at you. Under the dim light, you could better see his eyes, which were dark, almost black, set in what was an undeniably attractive face. Attractive in such a familiar way.
"What can I get ya?" you ask, eyeing him warily.
"I don't know," he says, his voice like cigarette smoke, "I'm kinda liking what I'm looking at."
You'd roll your eyes if a sudden fear disn't latch onto you like a parasite, suddenly draining any sense of comfort you felt. Those eyes were like two voids, you fell into them and felt yourself spiraling in darkness. There was nothing behind them. Only something sinister.
He chuckles darkly after a moment of silence, "I'm messing with you, sweetheart. Just give me three beers."
You have to force yourself to move, his intense gaze making your skin tingle, goosebumps rising along your arms. Once again prey in the direct sight of a predator. You hand him the three drinks and he slams a twenty on the counter with a wink, "Keep the change."
You didn't feel safe the rest of the night as they sat in the corner and watched you, ogled you like a pride of lions would fresh meat. Especially the leader. The way his unfeeling gaze undressed you made you as shaky as...
Well, no, nothing made you shiver like the stranger had.
All you could do was hope they were just looking. Even as they laughed amongst each other, they would steal glances at you. Hungry, ravenous glances.Then, eventually, when you have the last call, they got up and left, their beers untouched.
It took about an hour to lock up and be on your way to your car, which you were hesitant to do. Yet, there was secret thrill that rushed through you thinking about the stranger finding you on your way to your car and—
You shook your head to get rid of the dark fantasy, walking out of the bar with your head down and eyes tightly in your hand.
"There she is," a gruff male voice announces.
You jump and looks up to see the three men standing in front of you where you were certain they weren't before. You swallow hard and try to walk around them, pressing your lips together and gripping your keys tighter.
A hand yanks you back by the hood of your jacket, shoving you against the brick wall of the side of the building. The leader has you pressed on your back, struggling to get out of his grasp.
"Ah, calm down, cutie," he grins, "It'll be a lot easier if you don't struggle."
He jerks your head to the side, exposing your throat and the two bandaged wounds. Panicking, you slam your knee into his crotch, causing him to stumble back and growl in pain. You take off running to your car. It's just acrosss the parking lot, you can make it, you can make it—
The two lackeys appear in front of you, as if they'd teleported. You try to scream, skirting to a stop, but the sound is muffled by their hands over your mouth and groping at your body. The leader approaches them as they hold your stuggling form, his eyes beginning to glow red like blood.
Again, you have the horrible feeling that you're going to die, and brace yourself for the end.
A blood-curdling roar pierces the night, a tall dark figure leaping from the shadows and tackling him. The two holding you make a move to run, but are too late as your rescuer grabs their throats and tosses them away on either side like they weigh less than paper. You collapse to the ground, startled silent as you push yourself away from the scene. The leader snarls, sounding more like an animal, and rushes the figure, but he grabs his arm with lightning speed and snaps it, causing him to scream and roar like a bat from hell.
Unmoving, terrified, you start to cry, feeling like a rabbit trapped between two wild dogs. You cower down as your unknown savior throws the other man off to the side, still screaming in pain, and walks over to you, picking you up in his arms. You don't struggle, you whimper, begging, pleading to not be hurt.
"Shh," a familiar, haunting voice commands as a fingertip brushes along your forehead, "Sleep."
Once again, against your will, you are plunged into darkness.