He's A Monster

Hit and Run

Danielle's Perspective POV

I had almost relaxed in Evan's embrace, letting myself feel a small sense of warmth, when suddenly a jagged pain shot up my arm into my chest. My head pounded, and my throat constricted as if a scream were trying to escape but couldn't.

Evan's hands gripped my forearms, his face taut with concern. "Danielle? Are you okay? Talk to me."

I could barely focus. The lights, the music, the blur of people—I only saw them as shapes, and a strong metallic scent filled the air. My chest heaved erratically. My feet stumbled toward the exit, drawn by the bright red EXIT sign.

"I... I... I don't know what's wrong," I muttered, my voice flat, monotone. LIAR.

The cold night air hit my skin as I burst through the doors, goosebumps crawling along my arms. My breathing came out in harsh, ragged gasps, throat tightening further. Thirst clawed at me, deeper than ever. The sharp ache in my gums and the tightening in my jaws it wasn't just panic. I was hungry. Desperate. A need I could no longer ignore. Images flashed violently in my mind: Vincent painting, the teeth marks on my wrists, the screaming, Marshal's grief, my own helplessness.

I ran. Through the school hallways, past lockers, over cracked tiles, my dress fluttering around my legs. My senses stretched beyond human limits. I could feel the auras of students around me, their emotions splashing in vivid colors. But none of it mattered. Only the scent of life mattered. My hunger screamed.

A small flash of movement: a rabbit in the school courtyard. My hands trembled as I dove, teeth sinking in, the warm blood coating my tongue. Relief. But fleeting. The world spun, the metallic tang igniting every primal instinct inside me. I needed to get away. Needed to feed. Needed... something to calm the hunger clawing through my veins.

From a distance, I heard a car's tires skid. A warning. But I was frozen with the blood filling my mouth, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot, the hum of the vehicle approaching.

Marshal's Perspective POV

"Danielle!" I shouted, my voice cracking. Knocked out of my pitying thoughts, seeing Danielle running from the school. She didn't respond. She was running like the world had ended, limbs awkward, her dress flaring around her legs. My heart clenched. She was beautiful. She was alive. And yet... I felt powerless.

The night swallowed her up, and I caught only glimpses, a flash of dark hair, a streak of red in the streetlight. And then, in the shadows, I caught sight of her crouched low, feeding on something small, a rabbit, the blood glinting on her lips.

My stomach knotted. Her hands shook as she pulled back, the hunger still raging. My throat tightened. The thought was sharp, painful. My Danielle. My love. My sweet Danielle, running, feeding, feeding right in front of me. on her own, without my help. 

I had failed her. Failed to protect her, failed to keep her safe from the darkness Vincent had forced upon her. And yet... I could feel her still, somehow, even through this monstrous hunger.

I watched her, frozen, as she glanced up briefly, eyes glittering in the moonlight, unnatural, predatory. The world around her was a blur. And even now, she was still my Danielle. My heart broke a little more.

Then a flashing of light hit me in the eye, a car. "Move! There's a car!"

I moved forward, hesitant, knowing she might run, knowing I had no control, knowing the bloodlust in her veins might overtake reason. And still, I ran toward her. Then she jerked up, blood dripping from her, and honking began to fill the air. I ran after her, but she was faster than I expected. Her movements were erratic, desperate. I watched her zigzag across the parking lot, weaving between cars. My stomach dropped as I saw a black sedan brake hard, tires screeching, just inches from her.

"Danielle! Stop!" I shouted, but she kept running, oblivious to everything except the need gnawing inside her.

She collided with a low hedge, knees buckling, hands pressing to the wet gravel beneath her. Pain shot through her limbs. Her head rolled back, and her eyes fluttered shut. I skidded to her side, scooping her up as she went limp, feeling the unnatural weight and chill of her body.

God, she was so cold... so fragile.

The world blurred around me as I carried her, thoughts spinning. How do I explain this to her mother? To a doctor? What do I say? She's not hurt in a normal way... she's... my mind raced, but I pushed it aside, focusing on her.

By the time I reached my car, her hair fell over her face, damp with sweat and tears, faint traces of her desperation lingering. I laid her gently in the back seat, wrapped her in my suit jacket, and drove, every red light and honking horn a cruel reminder of how close we'd come to disaster.

Please don't let anything happen to her, I thought, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles ached.

Within minutes, we were at the hospital. I burst through the doors carrying Danielle in my arms, the receptionist's startled look barely registering as I explained in a rush, "My girlfriend, uh, blood. She's... she's awake now, but I think she passed out. Please, hurry."

A redheaded nurse led me quickly, "Room 132, sir." 

 My hands tightened on her, Danielle, frail and pale, before laying her on the bed. Her dress was wrinkled, her limbs were stiff, and scratches along her face. The nurse began to administer an IV and a small device onto her finger -- monitoring her vitals as if she were human, but I knew the truth. She didn't need them, but she needed me.

I knelt beside her, chest tight, fingers brushing her cold skin. Her eyes fluttered open, pink and luminous, tears gathering.

"Oh, Danielle," I whispered, guilt twisting my stomach. "I just wanted to protect you. I just... I didn't mean to let this happen. Did not want any of this to happen. I just wanted you to be happy, normal... I just wanted to love you like you deserve; I don't know how." 

Her fingers trembled as they found mine, and a weak but clear voice whispered, "I love you too, Marshal."

Relief and heartbreak crashed over me. She was alive, she was herself... but different. Different, I had to keep reminding myself.  Half of me wanted to scream at the world, and half of me just wanted to hold her forever.

How do I explain this to her mother? I thought, glancing at the machines. Do I tell her she ran out of a dance, almost got hit by a car, and... she's not fully human now? Or do I just say she had an accident?

I brushed her hair back gently, pressing a hand to her cheek. "I'll make it right. I'll take care of you," I whispered. She trembled under my touch, but didn't pull away. I held her close, feeling the warmth of her despite her cold skin, and for a moment, everything else: the dance, the chaos, the vampires, Vincent, the near-misses faded away.

All that mattered was her. My Danielle.