Bite Me, Darling

In this world,

the choice is yours: 

become the hunter, 

or hope you outrun the hunted.

Neon bled through the grimy city, painting the concrete jungle in garish hues. Yet, the usual club scene - bodies grinding, music hammering his eardrums - bored him to death. His companion, oblivious, swiped through profiles on her phone, already planning her next conquest. Lukas scoffed. Too eager, too predictable.

Discontent gnawed at him, a dull ache amidst the flashing flesh and forced smiles. None of it held the mystery he craved. He stretched, the rusted stool groaning like an old man. And then, a flicker of stillness amidst the pulsating chaos caught his eye. A lone figure radiating an aura of quietude, an island of serenity in the churning sea.

Intriguing.

Their gazes met, a spark igniting in his chest. Before he could blink, she glided away from the dance floor, her movements an anomaly in the sea of flailing limbs and forced sensuality. A strange pull, an invisible thread, drew him after her.

Lukas navigated through the crowd, ignoring the stench of sweat and spilled drinks, his gaze fixed on her. This one, barely a woman yet radiating an undeniable allure, seemed exactly his type.

The heavy door swung open, a blast of cool air washing over him like a reprieve. But the respite was short-lived. Icy rain lashed his face, and the stench of damp garbage rose from the alley's depths, laced with something metallic. He grimaced, the expensive fabric of his suit a stark contrast to the grimy reality pressing in around him. 

Yet, a new scent cut through the foulness: a wisp of cigarette smoke, laced with a hauntingly sweet, floral perfume, swirling like ephemeral ghosts in the damp air. It drew him in, an irresistible lure despite the unsettling darkness that pulsed beneath the fractured neon.

Incredibly alluring.

"A touch risky, wouldn't you say?" Lukas murmured, his voice smooth as silk. The fractured neon cast an mesmerising dance of light and shadow on her face. A captivating sight, indeed. "Being alone here in the dark."

Her husky reply, barely a glance his way, sent shivers down his spine. "Perhaps," she murmured, smoke curling from her lips like secrets escaping. "But the club isn't exactly my scene."

His smile, practised and charming, flashed across his face. "Then might I offer a distraction of a different kind?" Lukas took a step closer, his shadow looming over her lithe form. "Somewhere less… crowded."

"Not interested," she said, her voice firm, her back turning on him. This wasn't the usual script. An unwelcome instinct surged through him. He trapped her against the rough brick, a frown creasing his brow. Not his smoothest move.

Her voice, a fragile whisper swallowed by the rain, "Let me go."

He ignored her, his hunger a ravenous beast. He craved the hunt, the dance, the ecstasy of a willing surrender. Consent was the rarest vintage. But tonight, he was a starved predator, reduced to desperate clumsiness.

His gaze devoured her, feasting on every detail. Rosy lips, the curve of her throat, the tantalising glimpse of skin beneath the lace choker, the intoxicating scent of smoke and something primal. Hunger roared in his undead veins, silencing reason.

Lukas lunged, aiming for a kiss, but she spun, his lips meeting only empty air. "Playing games, are we?" he hissed, a predatory gleam in his bloodshot eyes.

"No," she growled, her eyes blazing with defiance, not fear. "Ending them."

His breath hitched. "Just one taste," he rasped, venom dripping from his honeyed words. Prey tasted sweeter when they craved him, yet this girl... she radiated an untamed allure that eclipsed the thrill of the hunt itself. Fangs gleamed, a predator's anticipation thick in the air. He lunged, tongue snapping out in a blur. Steel met flesh.

But not as he expected. 

Agony, searing and white-hot, detonated in his chest, a supernova collapsing his world inwards. Black bloomed on his pristine shirt, mirroring the terror now consuming him.

"You think a mortal's blade can ki-" a wet rasp escaped his lips, choked by the blood pooling in his throat. Not just a blade, but something imbued with searing heat, something ancient and potent, had shattered his immortal heart with ease.

Lukas, an elder, brought low, not in glorious battle, but in a stench-ridden alley by a mere girl. Shame burned hotter than the searing wound, mingling with the terror that clawed at his throat. His eyes met hers, drawn to the crimson depths that held his very soul captive. A chilling smile, devoid of warmth, played on her lips, sending a primal fear deeper than death itself.

He wasn't the hunter. This was the hunter. A flicker of amusement, laced with a hint of icy terror, sparked in her eyes as his essence fueled her power. His final vision fractured, mirroring the shattering of his immortal form.

Callista, her beauty as ethereal as the moonlight reflecting off the blade thrumming with his stolen life. With a flick of her wrist, it dissolved, not into diamonds, but into a swirling vortex of stardust, stealing the remaining light from the night sky. Her stray strands of hair, the colour of twilight woven with whispers of the cosmos, drifted down, a chilling caress against his dissolving form.

Adjusting her leather jacket, she vanished into the valley's embrace, leaving only the echo of her footsteps against obsidian bricks and the stillness of the pools reflecting a night sky devoid of stars. A whisper, laced with the chill of forgotten tombs, carried on the wind:

"Indeed, hunter. The darkness holds many shadows. Beware them all."