It was a dark night as she walked home from the bar. It was a new moon out so she didn't even have the benefit of moonlight. The local street lights had long ago been destroyed by the gangs and drug dealers seeking the anonymity of the shadows. She didn't even know why she was out this late. She had plans for early in the morning, hanging out with friends at a barbecue.
The skittering of a bottle across the hard surface of the sidewalk caught her attention. She looked up and saw three men approaching her. The set of their shoulders, their walk and the dark laughter that passed between them assured her that these men were not Mormons out on Mission to convert people to the Church of Latter Day Saints.
She ran the odds in her head. Too far from home to run. No one else was around so no help there. Even if there were people around they wouldn't come to help. It would take too long to dig out her cell phone and call. So... she was on her own. Again.
She turned to face the oncoming group and braced herself. She had been taking self-defense courses and was getting quite good but three to one odds did not bode well for her near future. She steadied herself, controlling her breathing. Suddenly, the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees and the night, if it was at all possible, seemed to get darker.
For a moment, she lost track of the group of men who were stalking her. They just were not there then they were back. They were all pale, as if they had seen a ghost. She stared at the looks of total fear on their faces and then they broke and ran.
A chill slowly climbed up her spine, as if someone had just walked over her grave. She looked around and saw another man standing in the shadows. His eyes seemed to emanate a soft reddish glow. He approached her and smiled. Far from comforting her, the smile was as predatory as those on the faces of the men who had been stalking her. Even more so. This was the smile of a hunter who had cornered his prey and chased off his rivals.
She tried to run. She knew she would never out run this man. But something held her, bound her to the spot upon which she stood. She was unable to tear her eyes from his. Then a soft voice whispered into her head.
Soon you will be ready for my full attentions, but for now, sleep. I will only need a taste. Merely a taste.
* * *
She jerked awake, covered in a thick sweat as if she had just run three miles. She was in her own bed, her own apartment. She climbed out of bed and realized she was naked. She did not remember how she had gotten home. Let alone how she wound up naked in bed. As a matter of fact, most of the events of the night were fuzzy, like a bad dream that quickly dissipates like fog in the sun. There was something about a strange man... but no, it was gone.
As she walked to her bathroom, she wondered why her neck was slightly sore.
* * *
The next night she found herself wandering alone at night for a reason she could not explain, even to herself. She tried going to the bar but nothing she drank seemed to nourish her. Nobody in the crowded bar seemed to catch her eye.
She wasn't promiscuous, not by her standards at any rate. She never took a man home the first night she met him. While she may move from conquest to conquest a bit more frequently than some people may have been comfortable with, there was always some connection, some emotional spark that led to the bedroom. There was even that one man who she only connected with through hate and anger. That fling had never been intended and it never changed her opinion of the man, he was still an ass. But damn if the sex hadn't been good.
Tonight she was looking for companionship. Not necessarily sex but someone to keep her company and to get her mind off this strange feeling pervading her mind. She had a sense of loss, as if there were something very important missing from her life. But not a single soul in the bar attracted her eye.
She entered one last bar for the night. It was a smoking bar which was rare enough in this town anymore, since technically they were illegal. The loophole, as it turned out, was food. Since this bar did not serve food of any kind, not even peanuts or popcorn at the bar, it was still legal to smoke inside. She pulled up a seat at the bar, ordered a drink, and lit up a cigarette. The mentholated smoke burned its way down her throat into her lungs.
She exhaled the smoke and scanned the room. Through the smoke, her eyes met his. Something about him was vaguely familiar. The thought tantalized her, forced her to struggle to remember if they had ever met before. As she sifted through her memories, attempting to place him in the category of "Hey, I know you", the smoke cleared and he was gone.
She quickly scanned the bar, he had to be somewhere. From the corner of her eye she caught a flicker of movement and managed a glimpse of him as he was exiting the smoke filled bar. She threw a twenty on the bar and got up, something compelling her to follow him.
He was easy to pick out from the crowd. Long, dark hair; clean three quarter length coat; he did not look like any of the drunk rednecks most common in this town. She picked up her pace to follow him, a decision she could not have explained to anyone, especially herself. He slowed and turned his head, meeting her eyes and smiling. The smile was almost predatory, should have been feral but was ruined by the dimples that creased his face.
* * *
She woke up, once again, naked in her own bed with no memory of ever getting home. But the man's face was now only faded in her memories. She could see the man but it was if he was surrounded by a thin fog that seemed to mask his face.
