Chapter Text
Summer night.
Warm breeze swaying the curtains behind the open balcony door. Full moon illuminated the room with cool silvery light, caressing the cheek of the sleeping man. He moved a lot in his sleep, dreams appearing one after another. With a groan he tossed on his side, giving his back to the silver of moonlight.
Such an enchanting scent. Truly magnificent. Overpowering. The ancient vampire jumped on the balcony and gently moved away the curtains, carefully not to make any sound. He could hear soft breaths of his prey, deep and slow, experiencing the phase of deep sleep.
Perfection.
Inhaling the addictive smell, the vampire slowly moved closer and closer. Step by step bringing him closer to his dinner. The sleeping man was unaware of his presence, showing not even a slight of distress. His instincts were dull and dull instincts provided an easy meal.
Vampire's soft lips curved in a cruel smile.
And then his meal moved once again, this time tossing on his back. The vampire took a silent step back, ready to disappear if his dinner suddenly woke up. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, hunger made the fangs unfold slightly in his mouth. He closed the remaining distance and very carefully crawled on the bed which creaked under his weight. Fortunately, his prey showed no signs of waking up.
His pliant neck uncovered, presented for the mighty vampire. The scent of his blood seeping through the thin skin was bewitching, enticing. The vampire inched closer, his nose touched the soft and warm skin of his prey, inhaling the scent right from its source.
Pantalone - the vampire - couldn't help the hiss bubbling in his throat. He couldn't edge himself any longer, his self-control was about to snap. It happened only once, when he was turned into a vampire and couldn't control his own instincts. The very first prey he had fed on, was ripped apart into heaps of bone, tissue and fabric, mutilated beyond recognition. Ever since then, Pantalone preferred to keep a low profile, it was much safer to remain unnoticed.
Presence of vampires was never publicly acknowledged. They remained the urban legend and gothic fantasy for the mainstream. However, for the very few who had discovered that vampires were real, they were a sole purpose of life. They lived to hunt them down. They lived to eradicate these demonic beings from Earth.
The man underneath Pantalone wasn't one of the Hunters. He was just a plain mortal, but a handsome one nonetheless. His skin was tanned, his jaw angular and strong, his lips thin and subtly parted - also chapped, as if he had a habit of biting them - Pantalone noticed. His hair semi-long and unkempt, a wild mess of ice blue waves resembling a bird nest and his eyes covered by long blue lashes. He was by no means an ugly man.
"It's such a shame you have to die tonight." The vampire whispered.
He left an ironically soft kiss on the pulsing artery of his meal. His pulse had risen up slowly, he reacted to the touch. Good. Pantalone always preferred his prey to wake up before he bit them, it made the blood fill his mouth a tad faster than feasting on the sleeping human. Deft tongue spread saliva on the pliant neck, covering it with anticoagulant before the fangs unfolded fully and sank in the carotid.
The man woke up with a deep yelp of pain, his hands went straight up on the vampire's shoulders, but Pantalone caught them and pinned back to bed effortlessly. As soon as needle-like fangs broke the skin and pierced the artery, vampire injected the potent venom, letting it flow straight to his prey's brain. It had relaxing properties and hallucination agents that made mortals unaware whether they're dreaming or not.
Pantalone's fangs retracted, opening the wound fully and letting the sweet blood gush into his mouth. He slurped and sucked hungrily, making all sorts of lewd sounds that echoed through the night. His blood… It tasted so divinely, the perfect mixture of sweetness and tanginess of iron. And Archons, that scent.
The man shivered like a leaf as venom took root in his brain, haywiring his nervous system and forcing him to lay still. He felt no pain, however. Under the influence of this deadly drug, everything what Zandik felt was pleasure. Overwhelming pleasure that dusted his cheeks and made his pupils dilate until his ruby irises became a thin circle around the sea of darkness. His mouth opened, letting out a guttural moan while Pantalone feasted on his neck.
When Pantalone moved, he felt something sturdy poking his ass. So he wasn't the only one who felt good tonight. The vampire exhaled through his nose and sat between his prey's legs, grinding their hard cocks together. The man groaned aloud, his skin was covered with sweat. His blind eyes looked at the ceiling, not a single thought in his mind.
It was unusual for the vampire to get aroused while drinking blood. He observed some of his prey get excited, yes, but he himself never experienced such thing during feeding. Maybe it was all because of the sweet scent that was making his mind fuzzy or maybe it was because of the blood that tasted like a luxury. Maybe both options were true.
Pantalone took a shaky breath and swallowed down another mouthful of blood. It flew slower and slower, much slower than when he first pierced his neck. Skin of his prey was getting pale, deathly pale, his lips adorned with a bluish tint while his heartbeat was fast and irregular. It was time to stop, otherwise that man would have died. The vampire spread his prey's legs a bit further, grinding their throbbing cocks harder than before.
Time was up, he needed to go if he wanted to save 'the scraps for later'.
The blue-haired opened his mouth in a silent yelp when Pantalone's fangs pierced his neck once again, injecting venom under the layer of skin. It didn't have to act straight away, that was why the vampire didn't press further. It would also open the clotting wound once again and cause the hemorrhage as if the mortal wasn't slowly going into hemorrhagic shock with most of his remaining blood accumulated in his hard cock.
With a last one thrust Pantalone felt the man shudder under him and the cock he was rubbing against, throbbed and twitched while his prey climaxed. His heavy eyelids were closing slowly, registering a shadow of a human-sized figure by the balcony window and when he blinked, the shadow was gone.
Zandik woke up in the morning with an immense headache that made him wince as soon as light hit his eyes. He felt sick. Maybe it was all because he slept by the open balcony window. Grumbling, he sat up slowly and hissed when he got dizzy from the sudden change of position. Did he get anemic overnight? He didn't sleep well all because of these strange dreams, one of them was like a mist - he remembered only strands of soft black locks, pain and pleasure. Did he have sex with someone and didn't even remember that? No, it wasn't possible.
As soon as he moved, Zandik felt the uncomfortable mess in his underwear and realized everything was only some sort of feverish dream. Bizarre feverish dream.
"Fuck." Cursing under his breath, Sumerian slowly got up from his bed and walked towards the bathroom. The world spun before his eyes, the walls were crooked and the floor was bumpy, his eyes were playing tricks. As soon as he got into the bathroom, he froze, noticing his own reflection in the mirror.
"What-" Words got stuck in Zandik's throat. His skin was sickly pale, his lips had bluish tint, but that wasn't the worst. "What is going on?"
Going from his neck down to his chest - a crusty mess of dried blood. Even some strands of his hair were clotted together or glued to the horror on his neck. It looked like he was attacked by some sort of wild animal, his neck ripped apart but somehow he managed to survive. Everything felt unreal.
"Am I even alive?" He asked himself and pressed two fingers to the artery on the clean side of his neck. Feeling a fast heartbeat under his fingers wasn't that reassuring at all. Zandik let the water run and cleaned the bloody mess off his neck and chest, looking for the wound that apparently left him in the near-death state.
After a minute of cleaning, he finally found the wound. Or rather - wounds.
Two sets of twin red dots in diameter of a very thick needle surrounded by a huge purple-brown hematoma.
"Unbelievable." Zandik muttered, gently touching the bruise. It hurt, it was real.
The dream, the feverish delirium of pain, pleasure and soft black hair.
"It was real." Sumerian said, still watching his own reflection.
At the same time Baizhu, his flatmate, still sleepy entered the bathroom, not knowing it's already occupied.
"Oh? Sorry." He apologized quickly, but when he saw Zandik's neck, he gasped in shock. "Oh my Archons, Zandik. What happened?"
"Something bit me at night. I don't feel so good." Sumerian said to his Liyuen friend and as soon as he tried to move, black dots danced before his eyes. If not for Baizhu's quick reaction, he'd have fallen down.
"Sit down, Zandik. It looks serious, I'll call the ambulance. You show signs of severe blood loss." Baizhu sat his friend down and ran for the phone to call an emergency number.
"Before they come, bring me a new set of clothes." Sumerian hissed. He still didn't manage to change the messy underwear. With some help from his friend Zandik managed to change his clothes, but as soon as he tried to sit down, his body slumped. Muscles went limp, pupils contracted to pinpoints. Baizhu panicked, he called Sumerian and shook him gently.
The colors lost their saturation, going darker and darker as the louder got ringing in his ears.
"Violet… eyes…" Zandik mumbled. He remembered now. The person he saw at night had breathtaking violet eyes.
"Zandik? Hang in there! Can you hear me? Zandik!" Baizhu called, yet got no reply. Sumerian's head lolled to the side as a veil of darkness covered his eyes.