The Fragrance of Blood
Late at night, Noah walked through the dim streets with a bloody figure slumped over his shoulder—a female vampire he'd subdued after a fierce encounter. Even under his relentless torture, she had managed to resist breaking for a solid two minutes. Impressive resilience, he mused, though it made little difference now.
The woman, barely conscious, hung limply on his shoulder, her wounds healing just enough to remind her of the phantom pain left by Noah's brutal methods. Though the injuries had closed, her mind wasn't so lucky; she winced at the thought of what might happen if she truly fell into his clutches. For vampires, arrogance was second nature, but Noah's eerie appearance and grotesque aura—enough to unsettle even the undead—had her more than on edge.
As they made their way to the secluded club he'd claimed as his own base, they shared only silence, the unsettling kind where neither party felt the need to fill the void. When they reached the second floor of the club, Noah roughly let her slide off his shoulder.
"Go to the bathroom and wash up," he ordered, his voice carrying a threat of consequences if she dared defy him. "Get the blood off, clean yourself up, then come back and report to me. And if you think you can escape, let me make it clear: I can track every move you make," he added coldly, with a twisted grin. "Try it, and next time, begging won't save you from dawn till dusk."
The vampire looked away, resigned but still prideful, as Noah tossed her an oversized shirt and some sweats he'd grabbed from his own collection. He turned away, indifferent, and headed to wash the blood off his own hands.
After cleaning up, Noah returned to the gym, where he found the vampire emerging from the bathroom, clad in his clothes, looking strangely vulnerable. His loose-fitting shirt hung from her slim frame, clinging to her in ways that almost seemed designed to make her discomfort more apparent. She looked at him in shock, noticing the change in his appearance. The face that had once been almost monstrous was now almost human.
"Don't just stand there," he barked. "Follow me. I don't tolerate freeloaders."
He led her to his private training area and pointed to a thick metal rod leaning against the wall, its surface still stained with dried blood. "Pick it up and hit me with sixty percent of your strength."
The vampire hesitated, unsure whether he was serious. She looked from the rod to his calm face, trying to read him. "Are you…serious?"
He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by her hesitation. "If you're not going to hit me, I'll find something else for you to do," he said, picking up a massive weight with ease. "But let me be clear—you aim for anywhere besides my back, arms, or legs, and I'll make sure you regret it."
Her survival instincts kicked in, and she followed his command, swinging the metal rod at his back with more force than he'd instructed, secretly hoping it might at least sting. But as she struck him, she realized something strange: no matter how hard she hit, he seemed unaffected.
Over an hour passed like this, with her wielding the rod against him, and yet his face remained calm, almost bored, though his skin was torn and blood ran freely. Yet as time wore on, his wounds seemed to heal as quickly as they appeared, leaving her both baffled and frustrated.
"You're…healing way too fast," she finally muttered, pausing as her muscles ached from the repetitive strikes. "Are you a mutant or something?"
"Too many questions," he replied, dismissive. "You want to stay alive? Do your job and stop trying to figure me out."
She wanted to challenge him, but exhaustion won out. She dropped the rod and sank to the floor, panting. "I'm…out of strength," she admitted. The energy she'd expended was gone, and without blood to replenish it, she felt weaker than ever.
Noah narrowed his eyes. "Didn't you say vampires have unlimited stamina?"
"That's true—when we've fed recently." Her gaze drifted to the blood seeping down his arm from her relentless attacks. "In case you forgot, you've drained me of my energy and then some," she replied with a slight smirk, eyes flicking to the fresh blood on his skin. "I need blood. I haven't fed properly since…" she trailed off, unwilling to admit her desperation.
He stared at her in exasperation before reaching into his bag for a bowl. Without hesitation, he drew his thumb over his left arm, pressing hard until blood flowed freely, pooling into the dish. "You want blood? Fine. Drink up."
As he offered the bowl, her survival instincts won out over any last shred of pride. She took it, bringing it to her lips, and immediately a wave of potent energy surged through her, more intense than any blood she'd tasted in recent memory. She couldn't hold back a shudder as she drained it, savoring every last drop.
The hunger gnawing at her subsided, and she felt a rush of power unlike anything she'd experienced before. She licked the bowl clean, momentarily dazed by the taste and power of his blood, glancing up to find him watching her with cold amusement. Her gaze drifted to the blood still smeared on his arm, her instincts urging her to reach out.
"Keep that look off your face," he warned, pulling his arm away. The rush of energy had given her a strange sense of calm. "Just focus on staying alive. You don't want to see what happens if you push your luck."
For the first time since she'd met him, she felt a mix of fear and fascination. The scent of his blood was unlike anything she'd ever encountered, and the power it held stirred something inside her—a strange attachment to this strange, terrifying man who held her life in his hands.
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Yes, I'm not dead. I'm just struggling with my life. My PC is still on suicide watch and not fixed, but I still have exams starting on the 20th of November. So pray for me. I'm still depressed and now am sick, so I took 1 day off.
PLEASE GIMME SOME STONES! (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.