The Human

  To my surprise, I woke up. The room was dark and, even though I could see out of the windows, I wasn’t able to estimate the time. My wrist met with resistance when I tried to check my watch. It was gone, anyway; in its place was a cloth that secured that arm to part of a bed’s frame. I tried my right arm – also fastened.

  I had an IV but this definitely wasn’t a hospital. I was in someone’s bed. And fuck was I painful; it might have been easier to list off what didn’t hurt. I was still groggy but the seriousness of my current circumstances wasn’t ignored.

  “What an interesting couple of days.”

  I know that fucking voice. I turned my head to see the man who followed me for the last two nights. Ugh, that’s right. He was behind me when I got to my car.

  “Vogt, Marcus Zane,” He made a point of showing me that he found my wallet, then set it down on a side table next to my glasses.

  I made it into my car, I remember that much. I was driving. Did I wreck?

  “Are you a Marcus or a Mark? Marcella?”

  None of the above and hopefully you don't know any more than that. The wallet he found contained an identity that existed for moments like this, or for any other situation I might find myself in where I didn’t want my real details to be readily available. The original documents were locked away because I so rarely needed them.

  He wouldn’t go to that effort just to let me in my car. That wouldn’t make sense. Did we fight? I wouldn’t have tried to fight him unless I had to.

  “You must be in quite a bit of pain. What hurts the most at the moment?”

  Fucking everything. But, I wasn’t going to gratify him. I’d got some distance away from him, and the car, then he was right in front of me. Either he moved impossibly fast or I’ve lost bits and pieces in the accident. I stared at him for another quiet moment before I looked away. I’d let him finish gloating, or whatever it was he was doing.

  “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

  He was trying to force conversation, but I did. I hadn’t peed since before I drove in town, I was on what I hoped was just fluids, and it was at least the next night.

  I sighed, and looked back over at him, nodding. The low light hit him just right and I remembered him standing over me, the cold metal of my car’s hood on my back. He bit me. “If you promise to be on your best behavior. And say please.”

  Not this again. He was already playing games. I glared at him and gave my restraints a sharp tug. The man responded with a deep, genuine, belly laugh. I sliced open that belly. I gave him a serious, life-threatening injury. Maybe I didn’t get as far away as I thought. Even so, how did he manage to move me to the other seat with that wound?

  He noticed I was fixated on his stomach and lifted up the front of his shirt. “You did get me pretty good, but not good enough.”

  There wasn’t even a scar. What the fuck? Just how long has it been since that night?

  “It’s late. Let’s get you to the bathroom, then something to eat.”

  He was wary as he approached the bed. He should be; my legs weren’t restrained and I was tempted to kick him.

  It won’t get me very far, would it? I kicked him that night, too. How much of what came to mind actually happened as I remembered experiencing it? My neck certainly hurt like it had been bitten by a large dog. I stared at him with growing disgust and he matched my expression with one of amusement.

  He disconnected the line from my catheter. “Can you see without the glasses?”

  “Yes.” My voice felt like sandpaper in my throat. The glasses were just an accessory that slightly modified my appearance when I was out and about, not anything corrective.

  “This will be as easy or as difficult as you make it, Mark.”

  Is that a warning or a dare?

  He untied both restraints and partially lifted me out of the bed. I was unsteady on my feet but he supported my weight as we walked down the hallway. His shoulder was near my cheek and he smelled like freshly dug dirt.

  There’s already a hole waiting for me somewhere. What’s the point of all of this, then? I fought the impulse to tell him not to fucking touch me. I physically wasn't in a position to deny his help, if I even had the luxury of choice.

  There was a door on the other side of the next room and what looked like one side of a large kitchen island with seating. The door doesn’t have a deadbolt on it, does it lead to a different side of the house? I couldn’t see the entire room from this angle, maybe the front entry was still out of my line of sight. From the way my steps sounded, we were at least one floor up. Apartment? Condo? Multi-level duplex?

  If I can get him to lean forward a bit, I should be able to break his nose with my elbow. Though, if a stab wound didn’t stop him, breaking his nose wouldn’t do much for my situation, either. I was still sore as hell and he moved as though nothing happened to him that night.

  The bathroom was halfway down the hall. He stood me in front of the toilet and waited next to me. I sighed at him again and looked down. I was in a grey t-shirt that wasn’t mine, and briefs that also weren’t mine. Meaning, at some point I was stripped and partially redressed.

  Now that I’m awake, he intends to limit my privacy. The best case scenario: I’m a hostage and this is a tactic to keep me compliant. He’ll give or take away freedoms based on my behavior. Worst case, this is also part of his signature, something he gets off on. I stopped myself from asking, ‘did you want to hold it for me, or something?’ – he was close enough to do just that and I shouldn’t give him any ideas.

  “Or you can hold it all day.” He was losing his patience.

  I couldn’t. Peeing with an audience was new but I didn’t know when I’d be allowed to go next. I finally convinced my body to start and tried to ignore the pressure of his eyes on me.

  Once finished, I stepped around him to wash my hands and I got a chance to look in the mirror. My neck was as bruised as it felt, but at some point he’d made an attempt to clean me up. Not that much time has passed, then. His healed injuries make even less sense.

  He helped me to the kitchen and made sure I didn’t lose my balance when I sat down. “Sit and stay.”

  Sure. It’s not like I have much of a choice at the moment.

  While he rummaged through the refrigerator, freezer, and pantry, I got a better look around the kitchen and connected living room. None of the doors I saw had a deadbolt or any visible locking mechanism, but the door I’d noticed earlier was probably the main entrance. It was metallic and black– or at least something that appeared black in the low-light; the rest of the doors were wooden and a lighter color. All of the windows had a heavy tint applied to them that discolored the streetlights outside, but I could tell it was still night time. There were a few pieces of furniture, including two chairs and a couch. His shelves were mostly bare with some books and odd trinkets.

  A full block of knives sat in plain view on the island counter, just outside of my reach from where I was sitting. I could have one in hand in seconds – three or four with my current injuries. I’d expect me to try again if I were him. A test to see how much of a problem I’m going to be?

  “Bad news.” He set a plate down in front of me with two large spoonfuls of peanut butter and a handful of saltines. “I don’t usually have guests, and until you woke up I wasn’t sure if I’d actually need to feed you or if you’d be in your car when I dumped it in the river.”

  I wish I was in my car. Whatever he has planned for me isn’t good, but I’m still alive. I have a chance to find a way out of here. I didn’t want to eat what was offered but I’d be stupid to starve myself. And, if he wanted to dose me with some sort of sedative or poison, he had plenty of opportunities while I was out.

  The saltines were stale and the combination was so dry. Another captivity tactic – better food is a privilege and I’ll have to earn it.

  He sat a cup down in front of me with a red liquid inside. “Electrolytes.”

  I drank a mouthful just to wash the food down, but the flavor actually wasn’t that bad.

  “I need you to drink all of this every time I make it for you,” he continued. “Do you take daily meds?”

  “No.” Just a shot every month. Fuck, the shot…

  “You do now, starting tomorrow night.”

  I didn’t just have my last shot, it’d been a few weeks. And I’d possibly been here several days. I have to escape before my next dose is due. If he doesn’t kill me before then.

  We sat in silence for a moment before he broke it again: “You had a lot more to say the last two nights.”

  I mentally made a note to continue to talk to him as little as possible.

  After I finished the ‘meal,’ we returned to the bedroom and he helped me under the covers. My wrists were restrained before he checked the catheter. He flushed it then reconnected the line and restarted the fluids.

  With no warning, he began to undress. I didn’t want to watch and looked away. You better not fucking touch me.

  “It’s morning, I have one bed, and I need sleep.”

  Oh. He also probably didn’t trust leaving me too far out of his sight, otherwise I’d be tied up elsewhere. I’d rather be on the floor than next to you.

  “I’m usually a light sleeper, so don’t try anything.” He got in next to me and limited his contact to what was required in the shared space. “And be thankful,” he added, as he situated himself under the blanket, “I’m wearing boxers tonight, but I usually sleep naked.”

  Why wait? Just kill me now.

  He laid on his side and watched me until the sun came up, after which he fell asleep impressively fast. The room grew only a little brighter; like in the main room, the bedroom windows were heavily tinted and blocked out any direct natural light.

  How is he this comfortable? Maybe he needs to have someone tied up next to him to sleep.

  I studied the restraints; I wanted to determine how they were wrapped and tied before I made any movements. I picked at what looked like a good spot and- Ow! He flicked my ear soon after I began. The contact didn’t hurt as much as it surprised me.

  I glanced over at him and he peered back at me sleepily. “I said don’t.”

  I sighed and tried to get as comfortable as I could in this position. My neck was sore where he bit me. Not just a bite, he drank my blood. I remember! And now he was going to bed as soon as the sun came up. Was acting like a vampire a lifestyle for him?

  I still had that vague memory of him moving faster than was possible. Maybe I was just unable to recall how he made it over to me. It was more likely that he’d drugged me at some point as we walked through the streets together. A sedative would explain a lot. I still couldn’t remember everything from that night and a lot of what I did remember about him wasn’t human.

  I needed to try to sleep. To sleep when he slept. Of all the things that might affect my judgement in the coming days, sleep deprivation shouldn’t be one of them. I closed my eyes and pictured myself far away from this bed. From him.

  It was already dark again when I woke up. The IV was pulled and a wrist had been freed. A note was left on the bedside table:

  『Eat and shower, I’ll be back soon.』

  I sat up and undid the other restraint. My wrist was red and indented where the cloth had been fastened, but the skin on the other wasn’t – he’d likely removed the other restraint at least an hour ago.

  I stood and stretched. My wallet and glasses were still sitting on the table. What did he do with my phone and watch? Hopefully I’d been unreachable long enough that the devices I’d checked out were wiped preemptively.

  I headed to the bathroom first, out of need. A towel, rag, and clothes – just another t-shirt and briefs, no pants – sat on the counter, as well as a toothbrush and razor that were both still in their boxes. I looked through the drawers and cabinets before I left. Nothing surprising, just normal toiletries and cleaning supplies.

  I explored the apartment to confirm I was alone. When I was satisfied, I returned to the main room and approached the front door. I gave the doorknob a twist: locked, somehow. As I thought I’d noticed in the dark last night, there wasn’t a keyhole or a turnpiece on the inside. The door was well-reinforced, and I’d probably break my leg long before I could kick it down. The windows were also thick and sturdy; anything I had available to me in this room would at best bounce off of it were I to try breaking the glass. Does he keep people here often?

  In the kitchen, options like bread and bananas sat on the island counter. The refrigerator had a half gallon of milk, eggs, butter, lunch meat, cheese, and basic condiments. I put a sandwich together and took a banana. Three pills and the same drink from last night were waiting for me in front of the stool the man sat me on last night. Another note read:

  『Finish the drink and take all of the meds.』

  Did he have a way of knowing if I didn’t take them? I couldn’t tell what they were. Are they harmful in some way? Or do I need them because he bit me? I hesitantly popped them in my mouth and washed them down with the drink, reminding myself that this wouldn’t be how he killed me, then ate the sandwich over the sink before I continued looking around.

  Many of the books on the shelves had folded pages or bookmarks that were quite early in the book, as though he started them but quickly became bored with the story. The objects around the room didn’t have any sort of cohesiveness or design, so there was likely some sort of sentimental value to them. It didn’t seem like a place where someone would spend a lot of time. Does he actually live here or is this just the space he uses when he’s holding someone against their will?

  I searched for my missing belongings; I checked closets, drawers, and boxes – no luck. My bag and the camera were also with me that night, and I didn’t see those anywhere, either. If he knew I was watching Tannenbaum, he would bring my gear to him. Was I careless enough to leave something in the bag that would expose us?

  I should get cleaned up while I still have the option. I started the shower and checked behind the curtain to take stock of what was already in there: his toothbrush, toothpaste, and a container of 3-in-1.

  I got undressed and unbraided my hair as well as I could; it was stuck together near the top by dried blood. I brought the new toothbrush and rag in with me as I stepped under the stream of water.

  The heat felt nice on my sore neck and back, but I still rushed through the shower. I dried my hair until it was no longer dripping, then my body. Once I was dressed, I worked to untangle the knots in my hair with my fingers.

  The front door opened and closed. “Did you find anything interesting?”

  Fuck, he’s back. What’s he going to do to me tonight? I didn’t see any cameras during my search but that didn’t mean they weren't there.

  He appeared in the doorway behind me as I worked through a particularly stubborn knot. Our eyes met in the mirror, and he watched me for a moment longer before he stepped forward. He helped me untangle it, then gripped my hair like he was about to tie it for me. Instead, he used that grip to pull my head against his chest.

  He placed his chin on my crown and examined my neck through the mirror, running his fingers over the raised skin. I closed my eyes and focused on not reacting to the pain. He smelled like a vile mix of sweat and body sprays this time, and blood was faintly on his breath. Did he bite someone tonight? Is he keeping them somewhere, too? His hand slid up to my face and he felt the hair that grew in since I’d been here. He also still smelled like earth.

  He released my hair and gave me a light shove toward the door. “Out.”

  I moved to the living room and sat on the arm of a chair. The shower started and I decided to time how long he was in there. At least, as well as I could estimate without having access to a clock. While I waited, I rebraided my hair and prepared myself for how the rest of the night might unfold.

  It took about ten minutes for him to exit the bathroom, naked other than a pair of boxers. He popped in the kitchen and checked the trash and sink, then sat on the couch as directly across from me as he could. I turned away slightly in my seat.

  ”I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

  I do. He was still trying to make me engage with him so I chose to remain silent.

  Two or three minutes passed before his impatience got the better of him. He left the couch and positioned himself directly in front of me, almost recreating how he was standing over me when I was on my hood. He threw me on there, I hit my head, I remembered.

  I slowly looked up and his gaze was intense once our eyes met. He was trying to use his presence to intimidate and, when that didn’t work, he placed one of his hands over my throat.

  “I could kill you quickly.” He applied more pressure. “Or, I could make you suffer unimaginable pain until your body gives out.” He rubbed his thumb over the bite, and increased the force until I reacted to the pain. “I was going to kill you the other night, you know.”

  I covered my neck with my hand as he pulled his away. “You still could.” I should have kept my fucking mouth shut; this wasn’t worth acknowledging.

  His laugh could be so unsettling. “Every time you see me looking at you, you should remind yourself of exactly that. I’ll be thinking about it, too.”

  The next two days and nights were similar: he secured me to the bed when he slept during the day, then disappeared for most of the night. The meds and drink always waited for me in the same place on the counter. I still didn’t know what they were for and I refused to ask. That would require I speak to him and I limited that to what was necessary. It wasn’t poison, at least– it was safe to assume he still needed, or at least wanted, me alive.

  There were frozen meats in the freezer. I could cook something for myself, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to lash out if a pan was burned, or a dish became stained or broken. If it needed to be cooked or I needed utensils to eat it, I left it alone. If there could be crumbs, I ate it over the sink. The only dish I dirtied was the cup he mixed the drink in.

  The showers were nice and I liked that part of the night. When I closed my eyes, I could pretend I was somewhere else for a while.

  The front door was locked each time I checked it, but I also continued to keep that in my routine.

  He gave me nothing to do but look around the space or sit and wait in his absence. I’d actually prefer working to sitting idle for this long. Did someone else get assigned to Tannenbaum’s case already? Who is annoying Paul in my absence?

  I was less sore than previous nights and took my time with tonight’s shower; the water was starting to turn cold by the time I got out. The briefs– a soft pink, like bubblegum– were hidden underneath the shirt this time. After a heavy sigh, I put them on anyway. It’s not like I had other pairs I could wear, instead.

  He came through the front door even later than usual and headed straight for the bathroom. The shower started and I waited about three minutes before trying the front door again, just in case. Locked.

  He called me to bed as soon as he got out. I let out a tired sigh as he picked up the cloth restraints and prepared myself for ten uncomfortable hours.

  “We could try it without these.” He silently seemed to entertain the thought, adding, “But I don’t trust you to be loose while I’m sleeping. I’d have to hold onto you all day.”

  Absolutely not. I laid back on the bed and lifted my arms above my head so he could secure me to the frame.

  This only added to his amusement. “Mmmn, no, now we’re definitely going without.”

  He set the ties aside and got into bed next to me. His arms snaked around my chest and waist and he pulled me close. I involuntarily tensed when he blew on my neck over where he bit me, and he followed by adding his tongue, running it from the bottom to the top of the wound.

  I reached up to cover my neck again but he pulled my hand away.

  “Uh-uh.” His body shook with his soft chuckles.

  The licks turned into soft nips and I tried to work my way out of his grip; he adjusted his arms and wrapped one of his legs over mine to keep me close. Every slight resistance from me resulted in an equal increase of restraint from him.

  His thumb found and snapped the briefs’ band. “You wore the pink underwear.”

  “Was there another option?”

  “There’s always another option.” His tone was playful if not mischievous.

  “Would I have liked it?”

  “I would have liked it.”

  Did he want me to keep the same pair on? He gripped the briefs at my hips and pulled me against him by my waist. Against his hard dick. No, he hoped I would go without. His breath continued to hit my neck. I stopped trying to get away, it was only making him more excited.

  He suddenly tensed against me and reached under the pillows, searching like I might if I couldn’t find my phone. He expected to come across something, and leaned over me briefly as he checked over the side of the bed for it. Either he didn’t find what he was looking for, or there was nothing to find.

  He settled against me again. His breaths returned to my neck but were abruptly replaced by teeth; he pinched the healing bite between his incisors and, like earlier, didn’t let up until I reacted to the pain. Once he got what he wanted, he relaxed and rested his cheek against mine.

  “No more restraints, this works much better for me.” He sounded so pleased with himself.

  I’m so fucking confused. He hasn’t asked me anything sensitive. He isn’t punishing or rewarding me for my behavior. What he says and does seems to be largely at the whim of his own amusement. He already made a place to dispose of me, so he doesn’t expect to keep me for long. What does he want until then?

  His breath continued to tickle my neck until I was able to fall asleep.

  The Vampire

  I was ready to throw my phone against the wall by the second alarm. Getting up every hour during the day was hard, but I went to sleep early knowing my rest would be so disrupted. I sat up just enough to check the pump, line, and catheter, then I assessed Marcus; they were unchanged but I knew recovery wouldn’t be immediate or even guaranteed.

  I settled into a more comfortable position and pulled them up a little higher until their head rested on my shoulder instead of my chest. They smelled like blood, like lavender, and another scent that I still couldn’t place.

  The next alarm came so soon after I finally drifted back to sleep. I glanced up at the pump and blood bag then closed my eyes, listening to their breaths and heart beat as I fell asleep again.

  Alarm, again. No, not the alarm, something else is beeping. The pump. I powered it off and slowly slipped out from beneath Marcus.

  I took a moment to stretch then switched them over to the fluids. The Doctor preloaded the line for me to prevent ‘human error,’ as he called it.

  I gathered the gloves and chucked them in the microwave; they were re-heated at 8 second intervals until they were near-hot again. I tossed my ruined shirt into the trash on the way back to the couch and redistributed the gloves around their body.

  Moving around for this long during the day had already worn me out. I made sure the fluids were still flowing at the rate I set when I returned to the main room. It was late morning and I wasn’t sure I would be able to safely lift them again so I tucked the blanket in well around them to contain the warmth, then sat in one of the chairs. I dismissed the next upcoming alarm and reclined the chair back.

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  I stayed half asleep until the next alarm went off. I couldn’t properly check on them from over here so I reluctantly got out of the chair.

  I started heading back to the chair, then paused. Getting up like this every hour would suck. I laid over them and the blanket instead; I was careful with where I put my arms and legs and how I distributed my weight.

  They groaned softly as my weight settled on them, and took in a few sharp breaths as their heart rate elevated.

  They’re feeling and responding to pain. That’s promising. I rested my head on the arm of the couch, my chin against the top of their head, then closed my eyes.

  It was dark when I woke up again. Fuck. I either slept through or dismissed several alarms. Marcus still hadn’t come around, if they ever would, but they didn’t appear to have gotten any worse.

  I got off of them as gently as I could. They needed to be cleaned up a bit; I grabbed several towels from the bathroom and a rag and bowl of warm water from the kitchen. I tossed the blanket and gloves in a chair and sat the bowl on the floor in front of the couch, then crouched down to clean the mess I made.

  I lifted them just enough to lay a dry towel under their upper half, then dunked and wrung out the rag. I began at their forehead and worked down to their neck. It took many passes to start breaking up the larger patches of dried blood. They whimpered when I cleaned near the bite; the layers of blood thinned away to reveal deeply bruised skin. If I ever crossed paths with the people I bit again, it was never this soon after. Does everyone I send home look like this the next day?

  Dried blood was also stuck in their chest hair; fortunately, their body hair wasn’t nearly as thick as mine and the blood hadn’t accumulated here as heavily. I dunked their hands in the water and used the rag to scrub them clean.

  They groaned again when I leaned them forward to wash their back. A faint bruise had formed along their spine, likely from how they landed on the car’s hood. Shit. How bad is this? There was more blood in their hair where it sat against their neck, but that would have to wait.

  I gave them a quick look over. Good enough, for now. I patted their skin dry and removed the wet towels.

  Taking Marcus home wasn’t something I’d planned to do last night. I had a few options in mind, some in this same neighborhood. But, that was before they surprised me. I, reasonably, assumed they were someone I could compel. They weren’t. I stupidly let myself believe that someone so passive wouldn’t put up an actual fight when cornered. They cut me open.

  What would I do with them after they woke up? If they woke up? They’re not going to recover in a night. How long do humans need to heal from injuries like these? Weeks? Potentially months? I paced while I thought. Is having the night I’d initially planned with them that important? What the fuck am I doing? I could still change my mind and kill them later; I lost that option if they were already dead. For now, I’d get them into clean clothes, at least.

  They weren't short by any means, they had to be nearly six foot, but certainly shorter than me with a smaller build. I found my tightest fitting shirt, then clamped and disconnected their line long enough to get them into it. They let out another long groan when I had to lean them up, their breaths becoming rapid and shallow as their body worked through the pain.

  I moved onto their bottoms. Their belt and two additional knives were removed by The Doctor when he performed the exam last night. Now I just needed to get the pants down and off their legs. I hooked into the band of their underwear and shimmied them down together; that way I’d only have to do this part once. Their breaths picked back up as this motion lightly shook them from side to side.

  Their briefs were a size smaller than I wore, but once again they’d have to make due with something of mine. “I’ll leave you alone for a bit after this.” I didn’t know if they could hear me, I said it more to myself than anything. I worked the clean pair up their legs; their hand moved toward mine as I finished, their fingers feeling the back of my hand briefly then relaxing.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. A new message from The Doctor:

  『19:03: Coming up.』

  I covered Marcus with the blanket and unlocked the front door. It was about two minutes before he let himself in, during which I picked up a little.

  He beelined to his patient. “You would have called if something changed, but confirming: he has not woken up?”

  I shook my head. “I think they’re trying. I cleaned them up and changed their clothes just a bit ago and they groaned quite a bit. And, their hand moved just before you got here.”

  He angled Marcus’s head to get a clear look at their neck. He carefully felt around, then over, the bite, some locations producing a soft crunching sound. Marcus groaned and tensed the more the Doctor prodded, but he didn’t let that interrupt the exam. He listened to their heart and lungs, their bowels.

  “Oh, there’s a bruise down their back,” I remembered.

  “Help me roll him so I can get a look.”

  The Doctor supported their head and neck and we moved them to their side. He lifted the shirt up and looked at their back. He started high and worked his way down their spine, applying pressure along the way. Marcus’s reaction increased as The Doctor passed through the bruised area. We returned them to their back and The Doctor checked various pulses in their arms and legs.

  He grabbed a syringe and drew some of the fluid from the bag. “I am limited without being able to do actual diagnostics.” He injected it into a vial of powder, rolled it around in his palm to mix it, then pulled it back into the syringe. “Beyond the obvious, we will not know the extent of his injuries until he wakes up and can tell us.”

  “I doubt they’ll be willing to tell us much of anything. And, I can’t make them – they don’t respond to compulsion.” I didn’t have an explanation for him; the Doctor never asked much more than he needed to know, fortunately.

  He pinched the line and slowly pushed the contents of the syringe into a port. “An antibiotic,” he explained.

  I helped him pack the pump and pole that he brought for the blood transfusion and walked him to the door.

  “Line and catheter still look good, everything on the physical exam, all things considered, is better than I expected him to be. Keep the fluids going for now at a low rate, what you have it set to now is about perfect.” He sighed as he worked through his next thoughts. “He could wake up at any time now. I cannot be here when he does since he will not be able to forget me. So, keep me in the loop, I will stop by tomorrow night if it is still an option.”

  I locked the door behind him and was alone again with my thoughts. And Marcus. The Doctor expected them to wake up. Then what? Then I’d have someone in my home with every reason to fight back that I couldn’t fully control. Someone who might wake up during the day, when I’d be even less able to manage them.

  I should’ve finished them off when I caught up to their car. They could wake up so broken I’d need to put them out of their misery, anyway. And if they’re not broken, I’d break them once they recovered. If I can hold myself back for that long. Why am I being so stupid over someone who should have had only a few hours of my time, at most? If I killed them last night, I’d already have forgotten them. They wouldn’t even be a blip on my timeline.

  They still didn’t have to be. I can snap their neck, or drain the rest of the life from their veins… put them in the trunk of their car and dump them together… satisfy my hunger on the way home. Tomorrow night would be business as usual.

  My thoughts carried me back to the couch and I stood over them while I worked through my choices. Why waste what you already have? I carefully laid over them like I had while we slept, and they let me know it still hurt.

  “This’ll be quick.”

  The other side of their neck was unbothered and I’d bite there. They whined when I leaned forward, and I paused, my lips a hair from their neck. Their floral scent filled my nostrils as I hovered. Mmm. I rested my head on their chest this time so I could breathe them in for a little longer.

  I must have fallen asleep. I checked my phone – I wasn’t out for long, at least. Their warmth came through the blanket and felt nice on my skin. I needed to stop procrastinating. End it and move on.

  Something brushed my left side and I jumped. They had two fingers pressed against my stomach like the barrel of a gun. “....kill you….” It was hardly a whisper, but I heard it.

  Did they finally wake up? I studied them for a moment. No. Still out, still being difficult. Gonna kill me? Wake up and try. I wanted to banter with them again like we had in town; whether out of fear or general social niceties, people didn’t talk to me the way Marcus dared to. I wanted them to fight me with all they had. I wanted to pin them down. Sink my teeth into their neck again as I claimed my prize. Hear them groan in pain because of me. For me. I wanted them to wake up.

  I wanted…

  …them? Am I a fucking idiot?

  “I’ll kill you first,” I whispered back. But not tonight, and not like this.

  I got up and, despite their painful protest, moved them from the couch to my bed. The bag of fluids was able to be hung from the top of the headboard, I tore strips from an old shirt and attached their wrists to the frame; without knowing the severity of their back injury, they could hurt themselves just trying to get to their feet while I was out. I retrieved the blanket from the couch and covered them up.

  I needed to eat; hunger made me more impulsive and I was already fighting the growing urge to finish them off.

  I returned without hunger – The Hunger, as I call it – clouding my judgement; I was gone only as long as was necessary. I paused outside the door and listened; best to be sure there weren’t any surprises on the other side. No movements, just their breaths from the back of the apartment – the bedroom.

  Marcus was still asleep when I approached, positioned as I’d left them. I rarely had a guest in this apartment, but never had someone else in my bed. Their time with me had already surpassed the time I’d give any stranger.

  I watched them sleep while I thought about what the coming days could look like. They’ll probably wake up soon; hopefully not during the day when I’d be at my weakest and would have to fight to stay awake.

  I had better restraints I could upgrade them to, but they wouldn’t force Marcus to behave. I needed them to believe that trying something while I slept would be just as problematic for them. And for that, I needed them to be awake before then when I could better influence their expectations.

  I couldn’t confine them to a different apartment; this apartment’s walls, windows, and front door were reinforced to keep others out – the others weren’t. Fortunately, these same additions made it just as helpful to keep someone in. Setting up another space in this building would be a lot of work on short notice, and so expensive for something so temporary. Do I have somewhere else I can keep them once they can care for themselves unassisted? Do I want to keep them somewhere else? Do I want to keep them at all?

  “...Fuck…” Less of a whisper this time. Their body had started to shake; I could hear the trembling in their voice.

  “One thing at a time. Let’s get ya feeling a bit better before we start talking about fuckin’.” They would’ve appreciated that if they were awake, I’m sure.

  I could speed up their healing with my blood. I didn’t like the risks that came with it, but that’s what other vampires in this position would do. The more immediately pressing concern would be an allergy, or if they were just grossly incompatible to my blood – if severe enough, consuming my blood would kill them. I checked their hands; at least one of them came in contact with my blood when they stabbed me. Fortunately, neither hand seemed to have irritated skin. It didn’t mean they weren’t allergic.

  Also, drinking enough of my blood could create a bond. More commonly, it would give me more access to them beyond what I could piece together with my heightened senses. Every bond worked differently; while my blood was in their system, I might be aware of their mood even miles away, or share their dreams when we slept, or even hear some or all of their thoughts. Less commonly, and what I would want to avoid, is that bond could be, or become, mutual. But if a bond formed, I might be able to use that connection to compel them.

  The risks could be worth it in this case. If a mutual bond formed, I’d just have to wait the few days it would take for the blood to leave their system and determine where we go from there. Or, I’d kill them.

  I sliced my thumb open on a fang and spread my blood over their gums and teeth. With the bite being mostly superficial, my thumb healed quickly, but it was more than enough to see how Marcus would respond. It wouldn’t be immediate, but hopefully before sunrise. All I could do was wait.

  I hate waiting.

  The living room was still a fucking mess so I started clean-up. I gathered the makeshift hot water bottles and popped them while in the sink so they could drain. I grabbed a cleaner from under the sink and wiped down the couch. There were still a few wrappers from the lines and bags scattered on the table and floor that I gathered and threw away.

  Their shirt was ruined and the band of their pants and briefs were also soaked in blood – I tossed them. They wouldn’t need their shoes anymore and my feet were at best a size too big – tossed. I could find a good use for their belt so I put it away for now. Their knives, too; I put those in my safe, out of their reach.

  Their wallet and glasses were in the living room but not the bag they had with them last night. They had it over their shoulder when I approached them at their car; what happened to it? Maybe they were hiding the bag when I saw them moving around; I’d take a closer look before I dumped their car.

  I returned to the bedroom after a while and set their glasses on the nightstand.

  Their wallet had years of wear but was very plain. Their driver’s license had the name and address I’d been given and had been issued in the past year. The Z stood for Zane. Marcus Zane? They also had two bank cards and a credit card. And cash. No insurance card? Tsk, Marcus. Last night would have been expensive if you got away. There were no receipts, pictures, or any other personal tidbits that revealed anything about them.

  Marcus took in a deep breath, and was opening their eyes when I looked up from the wallet. They slowly oriented themselves and discovered their restraints – still not afraid, they seemed annoyed about it if anything.

  “What an interesting couple of days.”

  Their reaction told me they remembered who I was. Good.

  “Vogt, Marcus Zane.” I set down the wallet to free my hands. “Are you a Marcus or a Mark? Marcella?”

  They almost seemed… bored. Who wakes up restrained to a stranger's bed and finds that boring?

  “You must be in quite a bit of pain. What hurts the most at the moment?”

  They glanced over at me briefly but didn’t respond.

  “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

  They nodded at me.

  That’s a start. “If you promise to be on your best behavior. And say please.”

  They didn’t want to say anything to me. They tried to pull their wrists free, but I’d secured them well. They were starting to get mad. Not afraid. Not even anxious. Mad.

  I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Their eyes moved toward my waist. They decided to play surgeon, how could I forget? They didn’t.

  “You did get me pretty good.” I lifted my shirt up so they could see. “But, not good enough.”

  I’d completely healed before I carried them into the apartment that night. Their expression told me they had questions.

  “It’s late.” Sunrise was approaching. “Let’s get you to the bathroom, then something to eat,” I said as I clamped and capped both the line and catheter, and untied the first restraint. “Can you see without the glasses?”

  “Yes.” Their voice sounded rough.

  “This will be as easy or as difficult as you make it, Mark.” I didn’t like the way ‘Mark’ sounded when I said it. Marcus it is. I glanced at them as I freed their other wrist. Make it difficult, I dare you.

  I helped them to their feet. They could support their own weight but it wasn’t painless. Their walk was wobbly, like they’d just stepped off a boat and still had their sea legs. They attempted to be stoic as we stepped down the hall together, but their heart rate and microexpressions said they were feeling a great deal of pain somewhere. If not for their stumbling, they’d be hiding their current condition well.

  I placed them directly in front of the toilet and leaned against the sink. I’d be there if they fell over, and they couldn’t try to lock themself in. They were waiting for me to leave – not gonna happen.

  “Or you can hold it all day.”

  They finally pissed and I gestured to the sink afterward so they would wash their hands. I stood behind them and watched as they briefly studied their reflection in the mirror. I’d also gotten them ‘pretty good.’

  I escorted them to the kitchen when they were ready. “Sit,” I guided them to the closest stool at the end of the island counter, “and stay.”

  The freezer and refrigerator were as empty as I expected. I had ice only because the freezer made it. The pantry was almost as disappointing, but it at least had something edible. It was too late for me to get anything else to offer them. I scooped peanut butter onto a plate with some crackers.

  “Bad news.” I placed the plate on the counter. “I don’t usually have guests, and until you woke up I wasn’t sure if I’d actually need to feed you or if you’d be in your car when I dumped it in the river.” I was gonna sell it to a scrapper, actually. No reaction from them. I mentioned their death and I got more of a response when I asked about the glasses.

  I poured a cup of water and pulled out the container of electrolytes I saw in the pantry. I faced away from Marcus to bite my thumb again and squeeze a few extra drops of my blood into the drink. I'd do this as long as was needed to know if I’d get the results I was after.

  “Electrolytes.” I sat the drink down in front of them and they took a sip. “I need you to drink all of this every time I make it for you. Do you take daily meds?”

  “No.”

  “You do now, starting tomorrow night.” They didn’t want to acknowledge me and silently drank the mix. “You had a lot more to say the last two nights.” I knew that comment was a mistake as soon as it left my mouth.

  I let them finish eating and walked them back to the bed. Having eaten and moved around a bit, they were already less disoriented. I laid them back and restrained their wrists, then restarted their fluids. I’d pull the catheter when they finished the bag.

  I could take the couch until their back was better. Actually, fuck that. It’s my house and my bed. “It’s morning, I have one bed, and I need sleep.”

  I dressed down and got in next to them. They’d have to deal with it, I wasn’t gonna sacrifice my own comfort for them. I was glad to be back in my bed and I stretched out on my side.

  “I’m a light sleeper, so don’t try anything.” I warned, slightly bluffing. “And, be thankful. I’m wearing boxers tonight, but I usually sleep naked.”

  I fell asleep quickly, but was soon woken up by Marcus. They were working on a tied portion of the cloth they could reach. Already testing me?

  I reached over and flicked their ear. “I said don’t.”

  I woke up as the sun set and they were still out beside me. It was safer for me that they slept when I did, but it could just be the exhaustion and this may not be their normal.

  I got up and removed the catheter from their arm. Blood quickly pooled at the site and I licked it up; my saliva was enough to heal the puncture closed.

  I left some clothes, a razor, and a toothbrush in the bathroom for them, then prepared their meds and drink.

  I showered quickly just to wash the previous day off and changed into something clean.

  They were still sleeping by the time I was ready to leave. I left a few notes and freed one of their wrists, then headed out and locked the door behind me. Hopefully they got up while I was gone. I needed to go. I had a surplus of energy and I couldn’t work any of it out on them. Not tonight, at least.

  I needed to dump the car in case it was flagged in a missing person’s search, so that’s where my night started.

  I searched it, first. Like their wallet, the car lacked anything personal. Crumbs in the edges of the seats and center console suggested they had meals in here often, but no trash. No crumbled up receipts. No paperwork in the glovebox other than the registration, insurance, and manuals.

  If Marcus hid their bag somewhere, it would have to be reachable from the driver’s seat; I found nothing in the doors or behind or under the seats. I popped the trunk and checked there for good measure. It contained just their spare, tools to change a flat, and an empty, generic, ‘Thank you!’ plastic bag.

  I dropped the car off with my scrapper and jogged back toward my side of the city.

  After half an hour, I reached a better maintained property on an abandoned street and walked around to the back of the house. I used a key to enter the back door – this was a place I owned.

  Once inside, I removed my shirt and put on a mask. I’d entered the equivalent of a mud room and I stepped through another door into the home’s main room. There were chairs and other seating along the walls; in the middle of the room was a big, rectangular bed large enough to fit an entire family.

  Five others were here tonight, men and women piled into the bed together, each wearing their own masks. I slipped out of my pants and joined them.

  I was there longer than I planned but left full and relaxed. Home was just another jog back, this time much shorter.

  I listened at the front door again before I opened it; they were in the bathroom. “Did you find anything interesting?” I asked as I entered. I know you looked around. I would have.

  I double checked the door after I secured it; preventing Marcus from opening it required an extra step each time. They used the mirror to look back at me when I made it over to the bathroom, and I watched them from the doorway. Their hair was down like it had been the day we met, just wet, and they were using their fingers to brush it.

  They smelled like my body wash; I preferred whatever it was they wore last. I breathed in slowly. The lavender was faint underneath, and they’d smell more like themself by tomorrow; no amount of clean or cologne could fully mask a person’s unique scent.

  Still struggling to get through that hair? I got closer and helped. They had so much and I enjoyed raking my fingers through the strands like a comb. It wasn’t perfect but it would have to do. I pulled their hair together into one of my hands and gripped it tight to tug their head back against my chest.

  Their neck looked better, but I could tell it still hurt. Overall, they seemed to be a lot less uncomfortable today; the small amounts of my blood I gave were speeding up their healing, and if they were going to have a reaction to it it would have happened by now. If a bond can form, how much of my blood will need to be in their system before I have them? While I thought, I swirled my fingertips over the hair on their face; it was a little more than stubble, but not by much.

  I needed a real shower after my night, so I pushed them toward the door. “Out.”

  I had a lot to think about while I washed up. What, if anything, will we talk about tonight? What did they need to know from me? What did I want them to know? Was there anything I hoped Marcus would ask me? What did I hope they wouldn’t? Which questions would I actually answer, and how much would I tell them?

  I quickly dried off and dressed for the night. They were sitting on the chair’s arm when I walked out and had put their hair back into a braid. I made sure the drink and meds were gone then sat on the couch.

  ”I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

  I was still getting the silent treatment. We had each other’s attention yet we both were deep in thought. I approached them and stood between their legs like I had nights before. They slowly looked up at me and our eyes met.

  I still couldn’t get control of them, if I ever would. Their body heat radiated from their skin like an aura and warmed the air between us. My desire to consume them right was slowly rising back to the surface. My eyes landed on the unbruised side of their neck.

  I wrapped my hand around their throat and covered that side with my fingers, and returned my gaze to theirs. I like the way you look up at me. I used the side of my palm to apply light pressure to their throat. All it would take is a squeeze for me to crush their neck in my hand like it was nothing.

  “I could kill you quickly.” I pressed harder.

  Their eyes slightly widened for less than a second – they were excellent at maintaining composure.

  My thumb found the healing bite and rubbed it. “Or, I could make you suffer unimaginable pain until your body gives out.”

  They were still trying their hardest to be stoic, but I continued to push my thumb into the bruise until they finally groaned. For me. Because of me. I let go of their neck and Marcus shielded the wound with their hand as if that would stop me when I wanted to do it again.

  “I was going to kill you the other night, you know.” Again, they were indifferent.

  “You still could.”

  Oh, don’t tease me like that. I couldn’t hide my amusement. They may be mad about being here, but they still wanted to play this dangerous game with me.

  “Every time you see me looking at you, you should remind yourself of exactly that. I’ll be thinking about it, too.” I’m thinking about it right now.

  I gave Marcus increasing amounts of my blood each evening and they continued to heal well. They adapted quickly to my routine, not that they had much of a choice. I picked up a few extra things that they might need that I didn’t already have laying around, including a hairbrush and lotion.

  I left at the beginning of each night to satisfy the needs they couldn’t – it was too soon to feed from them again, for one. I also had different projects around the city and tried to stop by one or two places each night.

  Tonight I sat at a bar and scoped out my next meal. My mind, however, was on the Schrodinger’s briefs situation I created at home. I sat out a pair of pink underwear for Marcus this time. Was pink their color? What should happen if they didn’t wear them? What if they did?

  A small bachelorette party pulled me from my thoughts as they clambered into the bar. They’d clearly gotten their night started elsewhere and this was probably just another stop for them. They filed into a circular booth near the back and I joined them; I hadn’t invited myself to someone else’s party in a while.

  I got home a lot later than I planned. The sky was starting to brighten as I came through the door. I hurried to shower and got dressed for bed.

  Marcus was still in the living room when I was done. They’re wearing the pink briefs. What else can I get them to wear?

  “Bed.”

  They sighed as I got ready to secure them next to me. Was this still boring for them?

  “We could try it without these, but…” I was mostly thinking out loud. What happens if they’re able to get out of bed without waking me and they find something to use as a weapon? Should I risk it? “I don’t trust you to be loose while I’m sleeping. I’d have to hold onto you all day.” I want to risk it.

  Marcus didn’t like that idea; they got in bed and placed their wrists near the headboard so I could tie them down.

  “Mmmn, no.” Not if you want it. “Now we’re definitely going without.”

  I laid down beside them and hugged them tightly against me. I took and released a deep breath, feeling them tense in my arms as my breath hit their neck. The bruised side of their neck was the one that was up. Did they think I was about to bite them again? Hah. Not tonight. It didn’t mean I couldn’t play with them a little. I slowly ran my tongue over the bite. They covered their neck again with their hand and this time I pulled it away.

  “Uh-uh,” I scolded, lightly.

  I switched to light bites across their neck and shoulders. They tried to get free from my embrace so I held them tighter. I hooked one of my legs between theirs to restrict their movement further.

  Their struggling was starting to get me worked up. I wanted to keep going but I needed to control myself before I went too far. But Marcus’s body was warm against mine and their smell was so… tempting. My fingertips brushed over the briefs and I remembered what they wore for me.

  I slipped my thumb under the band and snapped it on their skin. “You wore the pink underwear.”

  They sighed and I grinned; I liked when they were upset with me. “Was there another option?”

  “There’s always another option.” Like nothing.

  “Would I have liked it?”

  Ah… this isn’t helping. “I would have liked it.” Nothing’s still an option.

  I gripped the fabric where it covered their hips; I wanted to tear the briefs off. I pulled their ass against my cock; I wore boxers again but they’d feel what their squirming had done to me. I was breathing so heavily. So needily. Fucking control yourself. They quit fighting me but I wasn’t ready to stop.

  Fuck! Maybe they haven’t quit at all. The last time they seemed to give in, they used a knife. I didn’t think to check if all the knives were still in the kitchen. I knew where their hands were and those were currently empty. I would have noticed a knife in the briefs.

  They could’ve hid one in the bed, somewhere within their reach, with this exact scenario in mind. I slid a hand under the pillows and, when that came up empty, felt around the edges of the mattress that would be within their reach.

  Nothing this time, but I have to remember to check. They know it’s a waste of their energy to fight me, they’ll be waiting for an opening to strike instead. Waiting for me to let down my guard. Naughty. But I like the challenge.

  I lightly bit their neck and pressed my fangs against their jugular. I wanted to open that vein. To taste them again. I brought my teeth together over the healing bite wound and applied more pressure until they groaned for me. Mmm, what a beautiful sound.

  If I kept going, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from feeding on them. Fucking them. I took another deep breath. Day was here. I’d worked myself up enough to briefly resist the Sun as it pulled me to sleep, but I was now losing that battle.

  I kept them close but loosened my grip. “No more restraints, this works much better for me.”