5 Seconds Of Summer Imagines

Luke Halloween Imagine

Note: not my pictures. @_cashton_ on IG for the pictures

I used running as my escape. From what? I'm not sure. I couldn't stay cooped up in my home much longer, I needed space. The outdoors works wonders for that.

It probably wasn't my greatest idea taking this impromptu run in the dead of night. No passers-by in the empty town, street lights flickering on and off overhead, and the dead silence resonating around me so I can only hear my own breathing.

I slow my run down to a jog, before eventually slowing into a walk. My breathing is laboured and harsh, my lungs working overtime to get enough oxygen in them, and I have to double over with my hands on my knees to let them reach their full capacity.

The streetlamp flickers off above me, removing the pool of light I was standing in, and leaving me consumed in darkness. All of the other lights are on, only mine has been extinguished. Turning on my heel to return to the safety of my home, I stop abruptly when I see a dark silhouette 3 lights ahead of me, standing and staring at me.

I can't see their face, get no description, only that they're tall and most probably male. He is stood rigid, like he is watching every move I make, and I'm careful to stay stood as still as possible. I need to get home, but he is blocking my path, and he is more than just intimidating. He is downright frightening.

I cautiously step backwards, hoping he won't notice, but he mirrors my movements at a much faster pace. Biting the bullet, I inhale a large amount of air, and turn to run in the opposite direction of him. I push my legs harder than I think I ever have, feeling the muscles in my thighs and calves burn as I struggle to get away.

I refuse to look behind me. In horror films, when the girl looks behind her, she falls and the killer gets her. I am determined not to be that girl, yet I can't help myself. I quickly look over my shoulder and see that he has disappeared. Maybe it was a figment of my imagination, I have no idea, but I slow down to a walk as I continue to look behind me.

A deep, throaty, cold laugh is heard next to me, and I slowly turn my head at the sound. Standing right in front of me is a boy no older than 18, blonde hair styled upward, with charcoal black eyes. He is a beautifully, terrifying boy and I step backwards in alarm at his close proximity.

His lips turn up into a sadistic looking smile, pearl white teeth showing through the small gap in his lips, and he feel my heart pound rhythmically against my chest.

"I love the chase."

"Excuse me?"

I'm surprised I managed to utter any words, my voice trembling with fear, but this beautiful boy in front of me is scaring me to my wits end.

"The chase. It causes your heart to beat faster, your blood to run smoother through your veins, and the smell is just...intoxicating."

He smiles another one of his cruel grins, his teeth more on show, and I finally get a good look. They look sharp, inhuman. Surely not. This is my mind playing tricks on me.

"I should go."

I begin to step back, but his ice cold grip wraps around my wrist, forcing me to stay in my position with barely any effort required from himself.

"Why would you want to do that?"

His dark eyes stare into mine, like he can read my mind, or manipulate me into doing as he says. I can feel warm tears surface at the brim of my eyes. I finally want to go home.

"Please. Don't."

I whimper quietly, struggling to remove myself from his hold, and he throws his head back into a booming laugh. The sound echoes down the street and it should attract attention, but it doesn't. It's the middle of the night.

"Don't what?"

"Hurt me."

"Now, now. Who says I'm going to hurt you?"

He reaches a pointed finger to my cheek, softly stroking down the side of my face, the temperature of his skin chilling me to the bone.

"I might be helping you."

He nears me and I'm frozen to the spot, unable to move. He leans down to the side of my face, his lips to my ear, and he whispers in an effortlessly cold voice.

"Let me help you."

I struggle to shake my head, but he has one hand tightly grasping my neck whilst the other is securing my body against his. I cry quietly to myself, hoping he will get the hint and back off, but he doesn't. He hushes me, cradling me and swaying us from side to side like so sadistic lullaby, and I finally feel the sharp, white hot pain in my neck as he draws blood with his razor sharp teeth.

I open my mouth in a silent scream, my body unwilling to put up a fight, and he continues to draw the life out of me. He hums in approval, my body sagging in his arms, and I blackout at the hands of this cruel - yet beautiful - creature.