The Undead's Personal Slave

Samantha stared out the airplane window, her reflection a ghostly overlay on the clouds below.

Her world shattered the moment she stepped off the plane. Her hometown sprawled before her, a bittersweet mix of familiar and foreign. At 32, she never imagined returning like this—divorced, jobless, and feeling like a stranger in her own skin. The past few months had been a whirlwind of heartache and change, leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

As she collected her luggage and hailed a taxi, memories of her life abroad flashed through her mind. The excitement of starting anew, the whirlwind romance, the fairy tale wedding. And then, the crushing betrayal. Finding her husband in bed with another woman had shattered her world and her self-esteem.

The taxi wound through streets both familiar and strange. Samantha stared out the window, barely recognizing the city she once called home. Gleaming skyscrapers pierced the night sky, their reflective surfaces winking like stars. Trendy cafes and boutiques lined streets once home to mom-and-pop shops.

It was as if she had stepped into a parallel universe—one where everything looked right but felt inexplicably wrong.

In her hotel room, Samantha unpacked halfheartedly. She'd arranged to meet her best friend, Lily, for lunch two days from now. The thought of seeing a friendly face brought a small smile to her lips, but it quickly faded.

How could she face Lily like this? Broken, overweight, a complete mess.

Samantha flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence of the room pressed in on her, threatening to suffocate her with loneliness. She couldn't bear to be alone with her thoughts for another minute.

"I need a drink," she muttered, pushing herself up.

The night air was cool and damp on her skin as Samantha wandered the city streets. A steady drizzle fell from the dark sky, droplets glistening under the glow of streetlights. She drifted through the bustling crowds, feeling like a ghost among the living. Rainwater trickled down her face, indistinguishable from the tears she refused to shed.

Young couples laughed and held hands under shared umbrellas, groups of friends spilled out of bars, huddling together as they rushed through the rain. Their joy was a stark contrast to the heaviness in her heart, which seemed to match the gloomy weather. The patter of rain on pavement provided a melancholy soundtrack to her aimless journey through the wet, shimmering city.

Then she saw it—an elegant sign that beckoned like a siren's call:

"The Black Swan."

The bar's facade was sleek and modern, with hints of Art Nouveau in its curving lines. Something about the place drew her in, an inexplicable pull she couldn't resist.

As she pushed open the heavy door, a shiver ran down her spine. The air inside felt... different. Charged, somehow. Samantha shook her head, dismissing the odd sensation. It was just nerves, she told herself.

The moment she crossed the threshold, electricity crackled through the air. The bar's interior defied description: plush velvet booths, ornate chandeliers, and dancers that moved with impossible grace. Their beauty was almost painful to behold, features too perfect to be real.

Samantha found herself staring, mesmerized by their fluid movements.

She made her way to the bar, feeling plain and awkward in comparison to the ethereal dancers. The bartender turned to her, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat. He was strikingly handsome, with chiseled features and eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light.

"What can I get you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that Samantha felt in her chest.

"Uh, just a glass of red wine, please," she managed to stammer out.

The bartender's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her face. "You new in town?" he asked as he poured her drink.

Samantha let out an awkward laugh. "Not exactly. I grew up here, actually. Just got back after being away for a long time."

The bartender nodded slowly, sliding her wine across the bar. As Samantha reached for it, a man a few seats down leaned toward her.

"Well, welcome back, beautiful," he said with a predatory grin. His eyes were slightly unfocused, and Samantha could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Let me buy you another drink."

Samantha tensed, clutching her wine glass. "No, thank you," she said firmly, turning away. But the man persisted, moving closer.

"Aw, come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly," he slurred, reaching for her arm.

Suddenly, a figure stepped between them. "I believe the lady said no," a deep voice rumbled.

Samantha looked up, and up, at the man who had come to her rescue.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, with wavy dark hair and the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.

They were piercing grey eyes...

His chest filled out a well-fitted black long-sleeved shirt tucked inside a pair of dark jeans. She definitely noticed that he was more than a tad muscular.

But it wasn't just his physical appearance that struck her—it was the way he looked at her.

His gaze swept over her, intense and appreciative. For the first time in months, Samantha didn't feel invisible or unattractive. This stranger was looking at her like she was the most captivating woman in the room.

The drunk man muttered something under his breath and stumbled away.

Samantha let out a relieved breath. "Thank you," she said to her rescuer, offering a shy smile.

The man's expression changed in an instant. His eyes hardened, and his lip curled in what looked like disgust. "Stupid girl," he growled.

Samantha recoiled as if she'd been slapped. "Excuse me?"

She felt a rush of irritation. Who did he think he was to pass judgment on her?

The man's lips curled into a sardonic smile, undeterred by her boldness. "Well, aren't you a firecracker?" he mused, his voice dripping with amusement.

Samantha's frustration deepened. She couldn't stand the arrogance radiating from him. "And you," she retorted, "are insufferable."

But the man just smirked as he was already walking away, disappearing into the crowd.

Samantha stared after him, confusion and hurt warring inside her. What had just happened?

She turned back to her drink, cheeks burning with embarrassment. The bartender was watching her with an unreadable expression.

"Don't take it personally," he said, leaning in. "Marcus... he's complicated."

"Marcus?" Samantha repeated. "You know him?"

The bartender's lips quirked in a small smile. "Everyone knows Marcus," he answered mysteriously, not adding any more details.

Samantha's eyebrows shot up. Just what kind of person was this Marcus?

As if summoned by her thoughts, the man in question appeared at the end of the bar. He was speaking quietly to one of the dancers, his expression intense. Samantha couldn't help but stare, captivated by the fluid grace of his movements.

Marcus' head snapped up suddenly, his eyes locking with hers.

Samantha quickly looked away, her heart pounding. What was wrong with her? This man had insulted her, and yet she couldn't stop thinking about him.

She drained the last of her wine and stood, needing to get out of there. As she made her way to the exit, she could have sworn she felt Marcus' eyes following her every step.

The cool night air was a relief after the charged atmosphere of the bar. Samantha took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. She'd come out to forget her troubles, not find new ones.

As she walked back to her hotel, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling that something strange was going on at The Black Swan. The bartender's cryptic words, the otherworldly beauty of the dancers, and Marcus' bizarre behavior... It all added up to a mystery she couldn't quite solve.

She was haunted by piercing grey eyes and the echo of that deep voice calling her "stupid girl."

Samantha hurried down the dimly lit streets, her mind still reeling from her experience at The Black Swan. The cool night air helped clear her head, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something extraordinary had happened in that bar.

As she turned a corner, a muffled groan caught her attention. Samantha paused, peering into a dark alley. A figure was slumped against the wall, barely visible in the shadows.

"Hello?" she called cautiously. "Are you alright?"

The figure stirred, and Samantha's nursing instincts kicked in. She approached slowly, her heart racing. "Do you need help?"

As she drew closer, she could make out more details. It was a young man, probably in his early twenties. He lifted his head, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat.

Even in the dim light, she could see he was strikingly handsome. His features were sharp and perfectly symmetrical, almost too perfect to be real. But there was something else about him, an otherworldly quality that made her skin prickle.

"I'm... hurt," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Samantha knelt beside him, her caution warring with her desire to help. "I'm a nurse," she said. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

The young man's dark eyes met hers, and Samantha felt a strange sensation wash over her. It was as if the world around them had faded away, leaving only those mesmerizing eyes.

"You're going to bring me to where you're staying," he said, his voice taking on an odd, echoing quality, "and let me drink all your blood."

Samantha's forehead creased in confusion. Fear bloomed in her chest. She tried to speak, but it felt distant, muffled. "What?" she managed to say.

The young man's expression changed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision.

"I... I need to go," Samantha stammered, backing away. "You seem okay now. Goodbye!"

She turned and began walking as quickly as she could without breaking into a run. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Had he really said what she thought he said? And why had she felt so strange when he looked into her eyes?

Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of her, blocking her path. Samantha gasped, stumbling backward.

It was the young man from the alley. But how? She'd left him behind just seconds ago.

Before she could react, she saw something that made her blood run cold. Sharp, gleaming fangs extended from the young man's mouth.

Samantha opened hers to scream, but in a blur of motion, the man was upon her. One hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cries. The other gripped her arm with inhuman strength.

"I don't understand," he hissed, his eyes wild. "Why didn't it work on you?"

Samantha struggled, but it was like fighting against a steel vise. The man—no, the creature—dragged her deeper back into the alley.

Samantha's mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. The otherworldly beauty, the impossible speed, the fangs... Could it be? But...how?

"Vampire," she whispered against his palm, the word muffled but audible.

The creature chuckled mockingly. "Well, you are impossibly smart for a human."

Samantha shook her head frantically, hoping this knowledge wouldn't further endanger her life. The vampire studied her face, confusion evident in his expression.

"You're human," he said. "I can smell it. How are you resisting my thrall?"

Samantha shook her head again, indicating she didn't know or understand. The vampire's grip tightened again, and he leaned in close. His breath was cool against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

"No matter," he growled. "I don't care."

Before Samantha could react, the vampire's fangs sank into her neck.

A cry of pain and fear escaped her lips, quickly fading as a strange lethargy washed over her. The world began to spin, darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision.

Just as Samantha thought it was all over, a familiar voice cut through the haze. "Let. Her. Go."

The pressure on her neck vanished, and Samantha crumpled to the ground. Through blurry vision, she saw a dark figure grappling with her attacker. There was a sickening crack, followed by an inhuman shriek of pain.

Strong arms scooped her up, cradling her against a broad chest. Samantha caught a glimpse of piercing grey eyes before the world faded to black.

The last thing Samantha remembered was being in a dark alley, a stranger's fangs buried in her neck, and the enigmatic Marcus coming to her rescue. Then, mercifully, everything went dark.

As consciousness slipped away, one thought echoed in Samantha's mind: What kind of world had she stumbled into?