It was the night before her first day of her new job as assistant, and Lucy was having an awful time sleeping. Excitement flooded through her every nerve, and though she knew she'd be tired in the morning if she didn't get enough rest, she just couldn't get herself to shut down. The red light of her alarm clock told her that it was already past midnight, and she had to be up by six am.
She let out a huff, frustrated, and rolled over, turning her back to the blasted thing. Deliberately slowing her breath, she tried to focus on the air as it went in and out of her lungs, hoping that maybe she'd manage to lull herself to sleep that way. It didn't work.
She was almost ready to give up for the night and go read a book or something until it was time for her to go when the silence was broken by a low voice.
"Having trouble, are we?"
Lucy jumped, her eyes snapping open as she jerked herself upright. She caught sight of a figure standing in the corner, cast in the dull, crimson glow of her clock. Before she could say a word, before she could try to defend herself or attempt to run out of the room, something seemed to grab a hold of her arms. Pressure around her wrists and over her chest forced her down on her back, pinning her to the bed. The invisible grip was harsh and relentless, and all Lucy could do was cry out, unable to shake whatever it was that had a hold on her.
"Can't say I'm impressed." The man continued, moving closer. Surrounded in shadow, she couldn't make out his face, only the shape of his form as he approached to hover over her. "You don't look like you'd last a day."
"Who the bloody hell are you?!" She shouted, fear cracking her voice. "Let me go!"
He laughed at that, a harsh, careless chuckle, more amused than anything else. "I take that back. You won't last an hour."
"What are you going on ab-"
That same force that kept her pinned to the bed now wrapped around her mouth and jaw, forcing it closed and muffling the desperate sounds coming from her throat. His weight pressed down on the bed as he crawled onto it, moving to straddle her. His legs at her hips and his hands brought to either side of her head. Even this close she couldn't see his face, but she could feel the chill that seeped from his body into her through their clothes. His breath was cool against her lips as he spoke, the invisible barrier not appearing to block him as it restrained her. "You do have nice eyes though, I'll give you that. My favorite color. Do you know what else is red?"
Lucy whimpered, her breath catching in her throat as he raised a smooth, slender hand to cup her cheek. She shuddered at the contact, his skin like ice against her own. He brushed his thumb briefly over her cheek, before sliding his hand down, his fingers entangling in her hair. Grip tightening, he pulled her head back, exposing her throat. She couldn't move, could only squirm as he lowered his head to her, his lips pressed into the side of her neck. Her pulse raced as the tip of his tongue prodded at the vein underneath, soon replaced by the teasing edges of his teeth as he nipped.
"Did you guess blood? Because you'd be right. Red like blood. Lovely, don't you think? Take a deep breath."
Before she could process his words, he bit down. Her flesh gave under the sharp edge of teeth that felt like they were too long to be human, sinking down deep into her. She screamed, her body going ridged, her fingers digging into the blankets under her at the pain. Muscle clenched around the intrusion, the delicate nerve endings sending out unbearable shock waves at the damage.
He held her firm, his cold fingers still tight in her hair as her bindings pressed her into the bed. As she gasped for breath, her lungs empty from her cry, she could hear him swallow rhythmically in her ear. Drinking her. She tried to plead through the thing over her mouth, terrified and desperate words strangled until they were no more than squeals of agony.
Slowly, the pain started to ebb. Hardly noticeably at first, but more and more as the seconds ticked by. Her screams died off, her chest rising and falling, panting as she felt the numbness trickle from her neck to the rest of her body, pumped through her veins with every heartbeat, like she'd been injected by some sort of anesthetic. That, somehow, was worse than the pain. Her struggling started to grow weak, not just held down by the restraints anymore, but her own growing weakness.
She felt heavy. Far too heavy to move. And still, he drank. Deep, hungry gulps as she bled out into him. His grip on her hair loosened, his fingertips brushing over her scalp where he'd pulled as if to soothe the sting, but there was none. Lucy couldn't move her head to even try and pull away once he let go.
Small tremors of warmth spiked up and down her back, a tingling sensation in her limbs, over her skin. Soft warmth, a nice feeling. Her thoughts fogged over, the panic fading as it became harder and harder to think. The tremors eased, her breathing settled, and all she could hear was the muscles in the man's throat flex and contract.
Then the fangs pulled free from her flesh, his tongue lapped at the wound left behind. Heat leaked out from the wound in her neck only to be licked away before it could drip onto the pillow underneath.
By then, the restraints were gone. She fought to focus on him as the figure pulled back, hovering over her once again. Her breath was shallow, the pull of sleep tugging at her consciousness.
"Better get some rest," she heard him say as her eyes drifted closed. "I still expect your best in the morning."
Lucy awoke to the sound of her alarm, feeling sluggish and tired. Her thoughts turned to her her memory of the night before, and with a rush of adrenaline, she reached for her neck. The skin was soft and smooth, though tender to the touch. Dragging herself out of bed, she went to inspect herself in the bathroom mirror.
Her skin was pale, her eyes wide, bloodshot with fatigue. On the side of her neck, over the vein, she could see a bruise left behind.