Five Nights at Freddy's one-shots

Vampirism part two?

It had been exactly a week since he woke up in that ambulance. He was grilled with questions and when he said he couldn't remember anything, it was ruled that he was just a wasted drunk. Even though they didn't find any alcohol in his blood. There were no charges so Scott did his best to brush it off.

He couldn't brush off the lingering paranoia, though. It was like his whole body was charged, waiting for something to happen.

Scott sat down at his kitchen table and bounced his leg in anticipation for absolutely nothing. He wasn't hungry and felt no desire to eat so he poked at the dinner that he had made. He didn't know why he made it, it just felt habitual to his night. Was a creature of comfort, what could he say?

He remembered the minute he was discharged from the hospital, he ate like it would be his last time. The doctors had complained about extreme blood loss and, again, merely chalked it up to drinking. It was impossible, though, drinking didn't cause blood loss. But Scott wasn't in any position to complain. But since that moment, he had no interest in food.

The sun outside was sinking lower to the horizon and the entire apartment was bathed in warm, orange light. It was beautiful and for a moment, Scott forgot about the foreboding sense of doom as the sen heated up his face. The corners of his lips turned slightly into a soft smile as he closed his eyes against the beams. He didn't know how long he sat like that, feeling like a plant, but the apartment became slightly colder and the light didn't shine in his eyes the way that it had been. He opened them and noticed the sun was nearly entirely gone and the warmth was gone with it.

He sighed, not capable of helping but feel the loss. He wished it could be that warm forever, but the October chill began to creep back in. He stood up from the table, figuring it was useless to continue to try and sit here and soak up nonexistent sunshine, so he went to his room. He didn't leave the house today, didn't change out of his pj's, and had no intention of taking a shower. Most of today had been spent in bed anyways. He took his glasses off and rubbed his face. An odd itch tickled his neck and he twitched, reaching up to scratch it. There wasn't anything there, but he absent mindedly clawed at it as he sat on his bed.

He pulled his phone out and checked for new messages. None. He had friends, but they were honestly really poor at communication. Or maybe that was just to him. He sighed and flopped backwards on the bed, letting his phone bounce off of the mattress and onto the floor. He didn't bother pick it up. He could have sworn he heard something, so he sat up quickly, his paranoia still ever-present. There was someone there. There was actually someone there. Standing in his doorway. He didn't scream, it didn't seem fitting so he stared back in a state of paralysis.

The man in his doorway was wearing a black hoodie and black jeans and his hair was hanging in his face, but not messily. His skin was pale and his eyes were intense beneath heavy eyebrows. If it weren't for him breaking and entering and standing staring at Scott, the man was actually incredibly attractive in that unconventional sense. He wasn't exotic, exactly, but he was beautifully European.

"G-get out..." Scott attempted. It was weird to be in this situation. He always watched movies of this and they scream and throw things, but that's something you did to animals. It's actually quite awkward when there is actually a person standing, uninvited, in your bedroom. Does 'get out' work?

"You're even more beautiful in the light." The man said in response, creeping further into the room, his footsteps were completely silent, like a cats.

"No, get out. Get out of my house." He tried again, trying to sound more authoritative, but that was never his forte.

"You call this a house? My lord they have gotten much smaller than they used to be." The man looked around the room in a showy manor. Tears prickled into Scott's eyes.