Moonlit Embrace

4.

I think I was going through shock. Not only did my heart stop just the other night, but now I am in the home of a Vampire, who I don't really believe is one. What does he think I am five years old? Is he just trying to scare me? It's working.

A vampire. The concept seemed ridiculous, like something out of a bad horror movie. There was something about him. The way he moved, the way he spoke—it all felt too real, too calculated, to be a simple act.

His features were sharp, almost too perfect, as if they had been sculpted by an artist with an eye for detail. His jawline was strong, his cheekbones high, giving him a regal air that set him apart from anyone I had ever met. And then there were his eyes—deep, dark pools that seemed to hold centuries of secrets. They were captivating, drawing me in with an intensity that made it hard to look away. It was as if he could see right through me, peeling back layers to expose my deepest fears and desires.

His skin was pale, almost luminescent, contrasting sharply with his dark hair, which was thick and slightly tousled, as though he had just run his fingers through it. There was an effortless elegance about him, a confidence that came not from arrogance, but from knowing exactly who he was. It was a kind of allure that I found hard to resist, despite the fear gnawing at the edges of my mind.

And then there was his voice—smooth, velvety, with a slight accent that hinted at a life lived far beyond the confines of this place. Every word was carefully chosen, delivered with a calm precision that both soothed and unsettled me. It was the kind of voice that could easily lull someone into a false sense of security, making them forget the dangers lurking beneath the surface.

I couldn't deny that he was attractive—intensely so. But it was an attraction tinged with danger, like being drawn to the edge of a cliff, knowing that one wrong step could send you plummeting into the abyss. There was something about him that made my heart race, a magnetic pull that I couldn't quite explain. It was as if he was both the storm and the calm within it, a paradox that left me both intrigued and terrified.

He then informed me that he would have one of his servants bring me dinner. His tone was polite, almost too polite, as if he was trying to put me at ease. But I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more behind his words, a hidden intention that I couldn't quite grasp. My thoughts drifted back to the last time someone offered me food—a meal laced with something that made my head spin and my limbs go numb. Hopefully, he doesn't try to drug me like the last guy.

As the door clicked shut behind him, I was left alone with my thoughts. I had no idea what this guy's name was, his age, or where exactly I am. There was something deeply unsettling about being in a place where nothing felt familiar—no landmarks, no recognizable sounds, not even a single clue that could guide me to making a reasonable decision.

As I sat there, lost in the unsettling realization of my situation, a soft knock echoed from the door. It creaked open, and a servant entered, carrying a tray of food. The smell hit my nose and I felt nauseous with hunger. God how long was it since I had a real meal? I hadn't realized just how starving I was until that moment. I almost felt primal.

The tray was laden with an array of dishes that looked as if they had been plucked straight from a gourmet kitchen. There was a bowl of creamy soup, its surface glistening with a swirl of herbs, releasing a rich, savory aroma that made my mouth water. Next to it, a plate held slices of roasted meat, perfectly cooked with a caramelized crust, accompanied by vegetables that had been sautéed to a delicate tenderness. There was also a basket of warm, crusty bread, its golden exterior crackling slightly as the servant placed it down.

My gaze flicked to the dessert—a delicate arrangement of fresh fruit, berries glistening like jewels alongside a small dish of what looked like some kind of custard, smooth and pale with a hint of vanilla wafting up from it. It all looked so tempting, so inviting, that it took every ounce of willpower not to dig in immediately.