I had fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes, it was daylight. I was soaking wet, and my hair was tangled and dirty. I was cold and hungry, and I couldn't even explain how thirsty I was.
It was very deserted, which was really unusual. I lived in a heavily populated area. But no cars were passing, no one was walking on the sidewalks, no one was riding their bikes. Something strange was happening.
I stood up slowly and looked around, my breath a little shaky. I heard screaming and the quick clap clap of shoes pattering against the cement of the road.
"Help! Someone help me! Anybody! Please! He's coming for me! Please!" The voice was feminine, and I saw a young woman - maybe in her mid-twenties - with long black hair, running from something I couldn't yet see.
She turns her head and notices me. She changes her direction and starts running towards me. "Please! Help me! He's coming for me! Everyone else is dead! Please, help me!" She screams over and over. She gets really close to me until something pulls her back and leans her head back. I see a tall man behind her, pulling her head back, then sinking his canine teeth into her neck.
His teeth were unimaginably long, like fangs. He had short, wavy brown hair, and extremely pale skin. A hood covered most of his face, and he wore gloves, as if he was going to rob a store. Practically every inch of his skin was covered.
He extracted his fangs and slowly looked up at me. His irises were the color of blood. A Deep red. He wiped blood off of his lips with the back of his hand. I was mesmerized. He was like a beautiful statue. He stood perfectly still and just stared me down. I swallowed hard and just stared at his eyes.
What kind of monster was he?
I saw him inhale through his nose, smelling the air. His eyelids fluttered, and I realized that he had been smelling me. He smirked.
I couldn't move. My feet were rooted to the ground. I just stared at his eyes. He was staring at my neck, licking his lips. My lips shook, along with my hands. In an instant, he was in front of me, cradling my face in his palms, running his fingers down my neck, irises turning black. I could have sworn, it only took a second for him to walk 10 feet to get to me. He was incredibly fast.
I focused on his hands on my face and neck. His hands were so cold, they burned my skin. He took a strand of my hair and inhaled it's scent.
"You smell delicious," he whispered to me, voice deep and rhythmic, "let's just see if you taste the same."
My eyes widened and the spell was broken when I felt his teeth against my skin. I tried to push him away. I punched and kicked, but I practically broke my bones doing so. He was as hard as stone and he wasn't moving. He was too strong for me.
I felt his fangs pierce my skin, and my blood leaked from the open wounds. I felt him suck on my neck. It wasn't painful, no. But I could feel my body get weaker and weaker. The warmth of my skin began to turn to ice, and I could feel my heart beating slower and slower, until it beat no more.
He dropped me, and the life was drained from my body. I was cold and gasping for air, but my organs were failing me.
I regret asking for my life to be taken the night before. I hadn't meant it. I was only 14. I didn't want to die now. So much was ahead of me. If it was being beat more and more by my mother, so be it. It was better than going through death.
My mind was foggy, and my sight was being taken away. I took my last little gulp of breath, then lay still, letting my spirit detach from my body.
But my spirit wasn't going anywhere. It was staying. And I began to feel hot. Really, really hot. Like someone had set my body on fire. Was someone burning me alive? I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. I couldn't smell. I couldn't touch. I wanted to scream, for the pain was unbearable. But I lay limp. I couldn't find my voice.
I thought maybe, just maybe, it was the process to being dragged down to hell.