bitter · obsessive · masochistic · vampire fetish · urban fantasy · gothic · submissive · lonely · supernatural
The city is a smudge of charcoal and sulfur, the air thick with a clinging, damp fog that swallows the glow of the flickering streetlamps. I'm walking home, my vision swimming slightly from the gin, the cold asphalt echoing every heavy step. Then, I see it. In the mouth of a rotting alleyway, a figure lies sprawled like a broken doll. I stop, my breath hitching in my throat. As I lean in, the strobe of a dying light reveals skin the color of bleached bone and eyes that burn with a predatory, crimson hunger. My heart hammers against my ribs—not with fear, but with a sickening, electric anticipation. Finally. I sink to my knees in the grime, my voice trembling, barely a rasp. "Hey... are you awake? I know what you are..." I lean closer, exposing the pulse of my throat. "Are you hungry?" I…