Hey guys :). This is my first submission here, so I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors. I tried to look it over as best as I could, but I may have missed something here or there. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy and please leave a positive comment or constructive criticism :)
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I sprinted down the hall, running for my life. The sound of my chuck taylor clad feet slapping the ground bounced off the walls, echoing eerily.
"Maria... Maria..." It was a male's voice... I didn't know who he was and I didn't know what he wanted. Either way, things probably weren't going to turn out well for me if I let him catch me. I felt a little sweat beading in my hairline as my thick, wavy mane streamed behind me.
"Maria... Maria..." He was gaining on me. With every step, every breath, every heartbeat. I almost sobbed as I ran down the long, echoey corridors of the abandoned warehouse, leaping over piles of debris and hoping to god I didn't trip.
I had been snooping around, exploring the old welding factory after I'd heard some rumors about a human-bat thing supposedly seen coming and going from this place. I had been inside the decaying building for about ten minutes when I heard a horrendous cacophony; someone broke down the door I had blocked and began calling my name in the silky, disgustingly fake sympathetic voice.
"Maria!" The proximity of the voice brought me out of my thoughts.
He was only a few paces behind me!!
The corridor was coming to a dead end. I thought all hope was lost, but I saw one last open door on the left. It could be my only salvation... A chance to turn around or find something I could use as a weapon to fight back.
I reached out to grab the door handle, both as an anchor to redirect my momentum and as a way to slam the door shut in the face of my predator.
I felt an arm wind around my throat, jerking me off my feet from the sudden stop and choking me in the suffocating grip. I thought it was a police officer or something like that, until I felt cold, inhuman breath on the side of my neck.
"At last..."
The man shoved me into the room, my feet tangling into various cords and wires littering the floor, he wrenched the door handle shut behind him. The room was lit by an old, dim, flickering lightbulb suspended by a thin wire. The room appeared to be an old workshop. Shelves lined the upper parts of the walls with damaged and rough counters underneath. Tools of all sorts littered the place along with rusty generators decaying by some of the outdated power tools. In the middle of the room stood a solid work table the size of a king-sized mattress, metal shavings scattered into the old creases of the over-worked wooden surface. Lengths of heavy duty, rusty chains draped tiredly over the upper half, almost waiting for someone to finish a project they started.
I turned to look at my captor after regaining some of my balance, but my right arm was yanked behind my back, forcing me in the opposite direction of the door. I was roughly thrown over the table, the man gripping me roughly and bending me so my face was mashed into the metal shavings and splinters of the work table, making my eyes water with the sting. I blinked a few tears away. In a shaky voice, I asked.
"What... do you want... with me?" The man pressed himself against me, leaning over me and completely covering my smaller frame with his.
The man brushed the hair off the back of my neck and nuzzled my flesh before replying in that same, horrifying purr:
"You poked around in the wrong places... And then I smelled you. Your scent was the sweetest I've ever smelled and it drove me..." He pulled his mouth close to my ear and spoke the last word in a breathy, smooth voice, "... crazy."
"...m-my smell...?" My voice cracked on the word 'smell,' much to my dismay. My captor chuckled evilly, obviously enjoying my ignorance.
"Yes, darling. Your smell." What the fuck was he going to do... Eat me...?I struggled wildly, my pinned arm loosing circulation in the vice grip and my other stuck between my torso and the table top.
The man laughed heartily, yanking me up from the table and pressing my body against him. He captured both wrists in one hand in a crushing grip, forcing them behind my back. His other arm snaked over my chest, his rough hand gripping me just under my jaw. His lips were almost touching my ear, cold radiating from them and raising goosebumps along my skin.
"This can be easier for both of us. If you're good, I can be nice and gentle." He pressed his lips against the racing pulse beneath my ear, "or I can be rough and unpleasant if you fight me." He bit the soft curve connecting my neck and shoulder, two particularly sharp teeth almost piercing my skin. I cried out in pain and jerked, shaking a laugh from him again. He shuffled forward to the table again, forcing me to bend over it painfully, this time sparing my cheek from the metal and rough wood. He spoke again, the chill of his breath causing the small hairs all over my neck to stand on end.
"What's it going to be, my pet?" Bile rose to the back of my throat as he whispered 'my pet.' I refused to respond, scared out of my mind and stubborn enough to want to fight. After a few seconds of silence, the man growled in frustration. He dragged me up onto the table, flipping me so I was on my back. He motioned to the chain with his finger and a length of chain sprang to his command. It wound around my bruised wrists tightly before two links on each end opened up like the jaws of an angry snake and clamped into the old wood, making a sickly crunching sound like that of breaking bones; after sealing themselves into the table top, they went lifeless, just like they were a few seconds ago. My arms were securely bound above me, putting me in a somewhat vulnerable state and cutting off any hopes I had of escape. My chest heaved as I panted in fear, my eyes searching for the face of the man behind all this.
I turned my head to my left and there he stood.
The most beautiful sight I had ever seen.
He stood probably around 6'7, dwarfing my smaller stature of 5'4. He was medium boned, muscular, and pale as the moon. He wore a charcoal gray hoodie with a lighter gray graphic tee beneath. His face was sculpted, not overly so, but enough to eliminate any boyishness. Pale, perfect skin and a symmetrical face... and eyes with blood-red irises and light-absorbing black pupils. Black, spiky hair crowned his horrifyingly handsome face, making a mixture of terror and lust course down my spine, coating every nerve ending and focusing all my senses on him.
He casually leaned over me on the table, speaking in a low, dominating voice.
