He watches as her eyes begin to flutter open. He doesn't move, but instead he continues to watch. She's resting on his bed, wearing no more than an oversized T-shit. It's dark, so he knows she can't see very well. He, on the other hand, can see just fine.
Instead of moving, he just sits there, letting curiosity creep on him. What would she do if he gave her false hope for escape? He is hidden in the shadows. She wouldn't see him.
She sits upright, rubbing her eyes. She squints, trying to adjust her eyes to the dark. He could tell that it wasn't working.
He tilts his head as realization floods through her. He can hear her heartbeat pick up. Her breathing becomes heavy. It gives him some kind of sick satisfaction.
She pats the bed around her, trying to comprehend where she is. Once she comes to terms that she's in a foreign place, she moves her body, trying to climb off the bed as quietly as possible. He has to admit, she's pretty silent for a human being, but it did not matter. He would have been able to hear her from a mile away.
He is a creature of the night; a vampire, and she is nothing but a mere human. She is nothing compared to him.
She makes her way across the room, her hands in front of her, trying to feel for something.
He gets tired of watching. He isn't known for his patience.
He calls her name softly. She whips around, a whimper escaping her lips. He can't help but to smirk. This has to be his favorite part of the game; the part where he teases his victim.
Her body is shaking; he could tell she was terrified. They always are.
There was something different about this girl; something that snatches his interest.
"Who's there?" she whispers under her breath. The sound of her voice numbed him. It was a sweet kind of numb.
What is he doing? Just get it over with, he scolds himself. But there's a part of him that wants to wait. He wants to sit there and watch her. But he knows he can't allow himself to get attached. She's a human being, and she only serves one purpose.
Within seconds, he's behind her. He knows she can sense him, as she turns around. She can't see him standing right in front of her, but he can see everything. He can see her beautiful brown eyes, which are protected by long, thick eyelashes. He can see the gleam of terror in them. He can hear the blood pulsing through her veins. He knows what must be done.
Within seconds, she's wrapped in his embrace. His fangs penetrate her neck, drowning himself within her. She doesn't even scream. Why isn't she screaming?
She seems to welcome his embrace, rather than fighting. It confuses him.
His hands tangle themselves in her hair as she frantically grasps his jacket, her nails mutilating the leather.
She grows weaker in his arms, but she doesn't try to escape. Why?
He can feel her take in her last breath, and then she is gone; her body lifeless in his arms. He lets her drop to the ground.
Usually by now he is satisfied, but satisfaction would not come. Instead he is left with a feeling of disappointment, and confusion.
It's the first time he's felt anything in a long time.