Haider’s POV:

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    What I hadn’t expected, however, was that even after my bullet hit the person, they wouldn’t budge. Not even a groan of pain, not a stumble. Only a slight, almost imperceptible twitch of a muscle, as if the bullet was nothing more than a mosquito bite. The sound of the gunshot had ripped through the night, and yet the figure stood as if carved from stone.

    My eyes widened. My mind reeled. Was this real? The reality of the situation was starting to sink. I took an involuntary step back.

    “What… are you?” I questioned, in a whisper. I squinted, trying to peer through the dark material of the hood. The person–if you could even call it that—had their facepletely covered, shrouded in the depths of the ck fabric. Only their hands, which held a dagger with a chillingly elegant grip, were visible. They were pale and thin, almost unnaturally so.

    The only answer I got was a low, guttural hiss that was more animal than human. It was a sound of pure contempt and fury. The next moment, they lunged, a blur of motion too fast to track with the naked eye. Before I could even react, I was pinned to the cold ground. The air was knocked out of my lungs in a sharp gasp as their weight pressed me down, and the asphalt scraped roughly against the back of my head.

    Holy fuck. This was not something I had anticipated. Guns, death, murder–all of it wasn’t out of the ordinary for someone like me. I had grown up in a world where violence was normal, a means to an end. I had seen things, done things, that most people only saw in movies. I had been held at gunpoint multiple times, and I had been eerily, unnervingly calm. Nothing…nothing ever had made my heart pound like it was now. The frantic, violent rhythm throbbed in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the night.

    I couldn’t tell if it was just fear, or if it was pure, unadulterated adrenaline. Maybe, idiotically, there was even a hint of excitement. A thrill of the unknown. What the hell was I thinking? Who the hell had I discovered? This wasn’t a human. Humans didn’t move like that, didn’t brush off bullets as if they were nothing.

    The figure pinned me down like I weighed nothing, their hold on me unwavering and impossibly strong. The next thing I knew, I felt a sharp prick on my neck, right on my adams apple. I winced, the pain a momentary, sharp sting. But then, a shudder racked my entire body as I felt something being pulled out of me. It was a strange, impossible sensation, a low, buzzing pressure at the puncture site.

    The smell of rose petals and gunpowder infiltrated my senses, a bizarre and intoxicatingbination that made my head spin. What the hell was happening? I felt blood rush not just to my neck but also down to my cock. My body was reacting in a way that I had never experienced before. The pleasure that swirled inside me was so intense, so baffling, that it threw me offpletely. At this point, I would only be aplete idiot not to realize what it was…it was obviously something simr to a vampire. Whether it was real or a bizarre, borate prank, I didn’t know. But was this feeling of bing dizzy as I felt my blood being sucked really possible?

    The truth was, I had always been an adrenaline junkie. It was a part of my nature, a craving for danger and excitement that had been born from a life of incredible privilege and mind–numbing boredom. So, what I was worried about wasn’t my own blood loss, but the insatiable urge to see the person under the hood. To bsee /bthe face behind the monstrous strength and the impossible speed. I had to know.

    I let my limbs go limp, feigning unconsciousness. I felt the figure’s weight lighten on me, their grip on my

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    arms rxing. I could sense their guard letting down. That was all I needed. With a feral smirk ying on my lips, I used every ounce of my strength. I flipped over, pushing up with a sudden, violent burst of motion. I twisted, throwing the figure off me and pinning them down below me. My eyes locked on the person in the hood, and I froze.

    It was a girl?

    No…not just a girl. She was something else entirely. A girl with eyes that burned with an eerie, captivating red, like embers glowing in the dark. Her phoenix eyes were locked on mine with a startling intensity. And God… her lips were covered in my own blood, a horrifying crimson stain that contrasted sharply with her pale skin. Sharp, white canines, impossibly long and curved, pecked out from her lips, giving her a predatory beauty. The hood, having been thrown back in our struggle, fell on the ground, and her short, jet–ck hair was scattered around her face in an array of messy strands. Her skin was a translucent pale, like a pearl in the moonlight.

    What the hell? How can a monster look this pretty?

    But I only got to admire the face for five seconds before I was pushed off again, this time with a sharp kick to my abdomen. The breath whooshed out of me, a pained groan escaping my lips as I bent over, clutching my stomach. My head was already dizzy from the blood loss, and now, with this kick that felt like something inside me had broken, I keeled over. I nced up, onest time, at the girl in the cloak.

    Her hood was back on, the shadows once again obscuring her face, and she gave me onest nce before turning around and vanishing. It was as if she had never been there at all. Just a phantom in the night. The thought of it, of her, made me want to get up and follow, to find out what she was, where she came from.

    But I couldn’t. Fuck. ck spots began to cover my vision as a loud, persistent ringing started in my ears, a high–pitched whine that was the only sound I could hear. I tried to move, to crawl, to pull out my phone and try to dial Grandpa, but my limbs felt like lead. The phone felt impossibly heavy in my hand. I only managed to press the call button before I couldn’t take it anymore. The darkness swallowed me whole. There goes my bava…

    I heard a sniffle and I winced as pain red on my neck. My eyes blinked open, slowly adjusting to the bright, unfamiliar light. I groaned, feeling a deep stiffness in every one of my muscles. As soon as my eyes focused, I realized I wasn’t home. Nope, not even at the hospital. I was at Grandpa’s. The luxurious, almost painfully quiet room was filled with the scents of antiseptic. The walls were covered in dark wood paneling, and the furniture was antique. It was Grandpa’s home office.

    My head turned to the side, and as soon as I saw the scene, a part of me wanted to groan. Shit. This was exactly why I had called Grandpa instead of Mom and Dad. I had a feeling this would happen.

    “He’s up,” I heard a deep voice say. I snapped my head to the other side to see Grandpa standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed in a disapproving look. He was as imposing as ever. I looked down at my hand and saw a drip attached to it, a clear fluid slowly making its way into my veins.

    How did he even have all this stuff in this mansion? I don’t think I’d ever been able to fully see all the rooms in this maze–like estate. But this wasn’t the time to think about it. Not when I heard Mom’s voice.

    “Haider!” She got up from the sofa she was sitting on and walked to me, her movements frantic. Her face was pale, and her eyes were filled with worry that made my chest ache with guilt. I hated seeing them like this.

    I sat up straight, pushing myself off the pillows, and felt awkward as I spoke. “Mom…”

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    She reached for me, her hands gentle as she touched my neck, her fingers hovering over the spot where the pain was. “What the hell happened?” she questioned, her voice cracking with emotion. That’s when I realized there was a bandage wrapped around my neck.

    I pursed my lips and frowned. “Well…would you believe me if I said I ran into a vampire?” I quirked a brow, a small, amused smirk ying on my lips. She looked at me, a mix of disbelief and exasperation on her face.

    “This is not the time for your jokes, Haider! Do you know how worried we were?” she questioned, her voice rising in volume.

    I shook my head, my shoulders slumping slightly. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “But it’s true.”

    “Were they robbers? Or did someone bully you again?” she questioned. I couldn’t help scoffing.

    “I haven’t been ‘bullied‘ since I was in fifth grade, Mom. And even that was only once before they found out I could beat them up.” I had learned at a young age that the best way to handle bullies was to not let them get away with it.

    That’s when Dad finally interjected, his voice calm and level. “Then why did you lose consciousness?” he asked, his gaze sharp. I paused. Well, since they weren’t believing the truth, it was best to twist it, right? To give them a usible, mundane lie that they could ept.

    “Alright, yeah…they were robbers. They stole something from me, hit me hard on the head, and I sort of lost consciousness,” I said, hoping my story sounded convincing enough. I mean, she did steal my blood, didn’t

    she?

    “Then why was there a cut on your neck?” Mom asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. A cut? I frowned. Shouldn’t there be two puncture wounds? Had the blood loss been so bad that the marks had merged into onerge gash? But I was fine and the pain was slowly numbing.

    I shrugged anyway. “Mom…it’s fine. It happens. I probably got hurt fighting them off.”

    She still seemed frazzled. My father finally spoke up, sighing as he stood next to her and patted her back.

    “Come on, Malishka. He seems fine. The doctor already came and took a look at him. He’s stable.” They both looked exhausted, their faces lined with worry. That’s when the guilt set in. Damn it. They would have to go to work early in the morning, and here I was, making trouble and ruining their night.

    “Oh, wait, what time is it?” I asked, looking around the room. The windows were covered, the blinds shut, keeping the city’s lights out.

    “It’s three in the morning,” Grandpa spoke up, his voice low.

    My brows shot up as I nced at my mom, a hopeful smile on my face. “Uh, it will take an hour for us to get home…and then I need to get ready for university. Isn’t it better to just take the day off?” I asked, my voice a hopeful plea. Mom nodded, and I felt a brief moment of triumph before Dad scoffed. I knew what he was going to do, that bastard.

    “You seempletely fine after that long nap. I don’t see any reasoning for you not to go.” There it was, the ssic guilt trip.

    I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. Well, I just prayed that university wouldn’t be as boring as school had been.

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    I was one of the few kids who’d rather stay with their family because there was more excitement there. But who knew what would happen in university. My mind trailed back to the little monster I had seen, the girl with the phoenix eyes and the sharp canines, and I couldn’t help the quirk of my lips.

    Will I ever get to see her again?

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