Amelia
For a moment, I couldn't move.
My body refused to obey my brain, locked in place by the impossible scene in front of me. Kyle's mouth was stained red. The girl's knees buckled as he let her go, her body collapsing to the forest floor like a discarded doll.
And then he looked at me.
Really looked at me.
That was when instinct finally kicked in.
I ran.
Branches tore at my arms as I stumbled through the trees, my breath coming out in sharp, panicked gasps. My dress snagged on thorns, my shoes slipped on damp leaves, but I didn't stop. I didn't look back. All I knew was that I needed to get away.
I didn't hear him.
That was the worst part.
One second I was running, heart hammering so loudly I was sure it would burst out of my chest, and the next—
Something slammed into me.
My back hit a tree with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. Pain exploded through my spine as rough bark scraped my skin. Before I could even scream, a hand pressed against my shoulder, pinning me in place.
Kyle.
He was everywhere—his presence overwhelming, crushing. His chest rose and fell rapidly, breath ragged, uneven, as if he were barely holding himself together.
"K—Kyle…" My voice came out broken.
His head dipped, hovering near my neck.
I froze.
His breath brushed my skin, hot and uneven. He inhaled deeply—once, twice—like a predator savoring the scent of prey. My knees trembled, fear flooding every vein in my body.
"Don't," I whispered. I didn't know what I was begging him not to do. Hurt me? Kill me? Bite me?
His fingers dug into the bark beside my head. His other hand trembled at his side.
His eyes—those eyes I had memorized for years—glowed darker now. Not just red. Deeper. Hungrier.
I felt it before I saw it.
His fangs grazed my neck.
Just a brush. Just enough to let me know how close I was to the edge of something irreversible.
A soft, broken sound escaped his throat. Not a growl. Not a snarl.
Pain.
Then suddenly, he pulled away.
The pressure vanished. My knees gave out, and I slid down the tree, barely catching myself before I collapsed completely.
Kyle stared at me like I was something fragile. Dangerous. Sacred.
"I told you not to follow me," he said hoarsely.
Before I could answer—before I could scream or cry or demand an explanation—he stepped back.
And then he was gone.
Disappearing.
One blink he was there, the next the forest was empty, the air eerily still as if he had never existed at all.
I sat there shaking, my fingers pressed to my neck, expecting blood. There was none. Just a lingering warmth. A phantom sensation that made my skin crawl.
When I finally remembered how to breathe, the first thought that hit me wasn't about Kyle.
It was about the girl.
"Oh my God," I whispered, scrambling to my feet.
I ran back the way I'd come, heart racing for an entirely different reason now. I found her lying where Kyle had dropped her, pale and unconscious but breathing.
Relief hit me so hard my vision blurred.
I shook her gently. "Hey—hey, can you hear me?"
She stirred, her eyelids fluttering open.
Her eyes were unfocused, confused.
"Where… am I?" she murmured.
"You're okay," I said quickly, kneeling beside her. "You just—you fainted."
She frowned, pushing herself up on her elbows. "Did I? I remember walking home and then…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Nothing."
Nothing.
My stomach dropped.
"You don't remember anything else?" I asked, my voice barely steady.
She shook her head again. "I think… I think I had too much to drink at a party. I must've blacked out." She laughed weakly. "Embarrassing."
I stared at her, horror creeping up my spine.
Kyle had fed on her.
And she didn't remember a thing.
I helped her to her feet and walked her toward the main road, making sure she was steady before letting her go. She thanked me, waved, and disappeared down the street—completely unaware that her life had brushed against something monstrous.
I stood there long after she was gone, my hands trembling.
I went home in a daze.
The lights were still on, music still playing, laughter still floating through the house like nothing had happened. Like the world hadn't just cracked open.
I slipped inside quietly, avoiding everyone, and went straight to my room.
I locked the door.
Then I slid down against it and cried.
Sleep never came.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw red. Saw Kyle's glowing eyes. Felt his breath against my neck. Heard the way his voice had broken when he spoke to me.
I told you not to follow me.
Sunday passed in a blur of cleaning and forced smiles.
My parents noticed immediately.
"You've been quiet," my mom said gently as we wiped down the kitchen counters. "Did something happen at the party?"
I shook my head too fast. "I'm just tired."
My dad watched me over the rim of his coffee mug, concern etched into his face. "You know you can tell us anything, right?"
I swallowed hard. "I know."
And that was the truth.
But how was I supposed to tell them that vampires were real—and that the boy I loved was one of them?
So I didn't.
I laughed when I was supposed to. Helped clean. Nodded when they reassured me they were always there. And spent the entire day pretending my world hadn't been turned upside down.
By Monday morning, I felt hollow.
Winfred Academy loomed ahead of me as I walked through the gates, every step heavier than the last. The familiar halls felt different now—too bright, too normal.
I saw Kyle near the lockers.
He looked the same as always. Calm. Normal. Human.
My heart twisted painfully.
For the first time since I was sixteen years old—
I looked away.
And I walked in the opposite direction.