The Game of Hearts

1: Breaking Bad

Warm light touched my face, then down my bare back. My chest rested against the mattress. Sheets covered my lower half. I groaned as grogginess filled my head. Something felt off when I rose and turned into a sitting position. The room was unfamiliar to my green, tired eyes. I came to remember the night before when I had been at a bar and met a man. My partner of the night: nowhere to be seen.

There was an opening to the left, where a kitchen lived, then to the right the door to leave, I assumed. I stood, groaning again as I noted the sudden shock of pain in my shoulder. How I could be unaware of it earlier was beyond me. My fingers touched the area. To my surprise, it was wrapped with gauze. My eyebrows furrowed, and I found the bathroom. The walk there made my head spin. Dots clouded my vision. But strings of panic in my chest told me to keep going. My nude body didn't shock me in the mirror, it was the wrapped shoulder, with blood bleeding through, that caught me in a scare.

"The hell?" I grunted, putting pressure on the wound. I unraveled the gauze. My stomach sickened at the sight, a pit forming low in my abdomen. When I took it off, a wound covered my shoulder. Someone cleaned it, I assumed, but blood still creeped from the punctures. I touched it. My breath hitched once I realized there were two sets of teeth marks. "Oh, fuck..." I wrapped the gauze back as tightly as possible and rushed to the room. A mess of blood covered the white cotton on the bed. It wasn't like I was in unbearable pain, but shit... was this guy nuts? My breathing quickened, and my eyes widened in the slightest. Oh, hell no. A memory burned my vision. Still hazy in my mind, I saw remnants of him biting me.

It must be my cue to leave, an uncomfortable feeling washed over my body. I gathered my clothes, threw them on, then pushed my dead phone into my back pocket. There was no time for my bra. I braced as I opened the door. It opened into another room with two other doors, but the entrance to a staircase that went down beckoned me. I made my way to it and then downward. It was a spiral staircase, which I soon recognized as the one at the bar...

Later, when I stepped into the next room, I realized I was still in the bar I was in last night. A group of men sat at the bar or on the pool tables, chatting. The bar was empty. The man who I had met the night before stood behind the bar, running a hand through his hair. I saw him speak to his friends before his features contorted, and so did the rest of the gang. All eyes drew to me. I would've just ditched, but something told me to relax. I had to play cool. These eyes intimidated me. All the friendly chatter broke away. I took a deep and shaky breath before smirking, making my way to the group with a strut in my step. On the way, my mind became fuzzy from the lack of blood in my system.

I stared at him for a fleeting moment. His eyes were just as grey and dead looking as I had seen them last night. The hair on his head was a fresh wave of black curls, falling over his forehead like a mass of vines growing over a cliff. I had to remind myself for a moment that this man bit me. His looks were just so hard to forget about, but in the moment I needed to stand tall and firm.

Play cool Aria, I thought.

"I had a nice time last night." I made eye contact with him, however his expression became stone. "Maybe I'll come back again for some more," my ass.

As cool as I tried to be, the group began chuckling. I frowned as an embarrassing heat went to my cheeks. Making my way to the front doors of the bar, trying not to look rushed, I fixed my gaze on those handles. When I reached for them and turned the knob was when my heart beat rose. Locked.

"Can one of you nice boys unlock this door?" I called before turning around. They had gathered behind me, staring me down. Some smirked, others had their eyes on my shoulder (which was covered, by the way). How did they know? Was this a sick gang fetish?

The guy I slept with stepped forward, his eyes telling me something, but I wasn't sure what to interpret from them. "Of course." he brought a key from his pocket, giving me a creepy stare as he unlocked the door. My jaw tensed. I didn't like the way he looked at me.

Opening the door, beaming out of the bar, I declared to myself I wouldn't step inside again. "Damn," I whispered, cradling my shoulder while I walked. Something clicked as I walked the few blocks back to my apartment. The way he spoke and the way they all stared at me. Last night... I remember how he looked. A hungry expression, one that copied the ones in the bar when I had walked into the room. My curiosity got the better of me, making me anxious.