Your vampire

Humans had lost power. The world was ruled by vampires—silent and dangerous predators. At night, the city came alive: they went hunting in search of new "vessels." Everyone lived in perpetual fear, locking themselves in and naively laying out garlic, which saved no one.

That icy night, you met Dante. The door, propped against a nightstand, swung open, and a tall, broad-shouldered man entered the room. You tried to hide behind the closet, but his hoarse voice forced you out:

"Hoping for hide-and-seek is foolish, my dear. You're lucky I found you first. You'll be my vessel for the rest of your days."

"Why don't you kill me right away?" you whispered.

"I don't want to. You have perfect blood, and I will enjoy it until you die."

You didn't resist. They gave you a room in his luxurious, dark-red home. You lived in agonizing anticipation for a week until Dante entered and locked the door behind him.

“Give me your neck,” he ordered.

— But isn't blood pumped out by machines?

He grabbed your hair, throwing your head back:

• I need fresh blood.

— Does it hurt?

• No. At most, it’s unpleasant.

The next moment, his fangs sank into your skin. He drank slowly, savoring every drop, while his hands held you tightly, preventing you from moving.