Vampire!OC x Reader

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   I stare up at the vampire above me. He stares down at me. My eyes full of pleading and the terror of being hunted, his eyes full of hunger and the thrill of the hunt.
   He did nothing more than stare, as did I. I don't know why he didn't bite me. I'm too scared to move, to fight, to even scream. All I can do is lay here under him and beg him with my eyes to spare my life. I'm pretty easy prey.
    Do vampires feel pity? Do vampires feel remorse or regret? Do vampires feel anything at all? I don't know. I wish I knew.
   After what seems hours but was in actuality only a few seconds, he leans his face down towards mine, towards my neck. I cringe and shut my eyes tightly, accepting the fate of dying at the fangs of a blood-drinking beast in human form, and expect the pain of his sharp fangs piercing my through my skin to the major artery in my throat.
   But the pain never comes.
   Instead I feel his cool lips against the warm skin of my throat. I know both of us can feel my pulse pounding, so hard it could burst, in the veins of my throat. He can probably hear the quick, frantic beats of my heart, the rushing of blood and adrenaline through my veins. He could smell my fear, too, couldn't he?
   Why doesn't he just bite me already? Why can't he just get this over with? Why must he continue to toy and torture me with the anxiety and expectancy of him killing me?
   Gently he kisses my neck, from one side to my hyoid bone in the center of my throat to the other side. I shake violently, expecting the pain of his fangs at each gentle pressing his lips.
   But still the pain never comes. Why has the pain not come? Why has he not bitten me yet?
   I open my eyes slowly to peek at him. He stares into my eyes curiously. Lifting his head he brings it over my face, and I turn my head slightly to the side. He tilts his head, blinking slowly, watching me.
   Slowly I relax my body. Being tense for so long was beginning to hurt.
   He carefully lifts his right hand, releasing his pinning hold on my left wrist, and gently placed it on the side of my face, rubbing his cool thumb over my cheek. His eyes never leave mine. I, however, break the eye contact to flinch and whimper in terror at his touch, so gentle and slow, so unlike the ferocious demon that had pounced on and pinned me to the ground with a horrible snarl.
   He releases my other hand, and sits up. I stare at him in shocked confusion. Slowly he stands up, then holds out his right hand, an offer to help me up.
   Rejecting his hand, I turn around, hop up and run for my life.
   Maybe vampires feel pity. Maybe vampires feel remorse or regret. Maybe vampires feel something. Maybe. But I'm not staying to find out. I plan to not just survive, but live.
   At the door of the old decrepit mansion I turn around to look behind me and catch my breath. The vampire with black hair and ice blue eyes stares at me, leaning against a doorway to the room I had come from. His eyes hold curiosity as well as a warning: tell anyone of this encounter, and he'll come for me.
   I exit the building and race to my friends who were waiting for me. To my friends who are not there. To people who had promised me "friendship" if only I snuck into the haunted house. To the "friends" who had abandoned me.
   Walking forward to the gravel driveway, I fall slowly fall to my knees. Behind me I hear the door open and close, and know that the vampire was coming.
   Would he spare my life a second time?
   I don't know, and I don't plan on finding out. I want to live.
   Getting up I bolt down the gravel drive, into the forest, and follow the fresh tire tracks home. Silently tears fall down my cheeks and off my jaws. I'd never make it back before nightfall. It took an hour to drive here. It would take three times as long or more to walk back, and the sun was already halfway down the sky.
   Behind me, the vampire follows with silent, sure footsteps; never missing his footing and never stepping on a twig.

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Image by Telestai314 on DeviantART.

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