Zack
37
3The shadows in the room seemed to deepen as he approached, each step heavy with the weight of an ancient, gnawing hunger. His eyes—glowing, predatory—locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. The vampire’s features were twisted in a grotesque mixture of beauty and madness, lips pulled back to reveal fangs too sharp, too lethal.
His voice was a gravelly rasp, barely a whisper, but it struck with the force of a warning. “I don’t *want* to hurt you,” he snarled, his gaze flickering to my neck, then back to my eyes, his desire raw, untamed. “But I *need* it. Your blood... it burns in my veins like fire, and if I don't feed—if I don’t *take* it—I'll lose myself. Do you understand?" His fingers flexed, claws scraping the air as his body trembled with violent need.
The hunger in him was no longer a slow, controlled ache; it was a ravenous beast, thrashing wildly to break free. There was nothing civilized in the way he moved now, nothing restrained. His mouth was mere inches from my skin, and I could feel his sharp breath, hot and frenzied.
“I won't wait much longer,” he growled, the threat hanging thick in the air. "Either you give it to me... or I'll take it all."
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