chapter one

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You lie in your comfortable bed, the digital clock on your nightstand blinking exactly 2:00 am in an uncanny glow. The room is covered in a thick darkness, and the silence of your London apartment feels almost disturbing. You live alone, and nights like these, when the world sleeps and dreams, have always been your safe place. But tonight, something is different.

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of your temple, and you're shivering uncontrollably beneath the thin sheet that clings to your clammy skin. You try to dismiss it as a feverish dream, but your heart pounds in your chest, each thud echoing in the stillness.

Suddenly, you see him.

A man, tall and handsome, stands at the foot of your bed. Some strands of his dark hair fall effortlessly over his pale forehead, and his skin seems almost otherworldly in the dim light. He can't be much older than you, but there's something timeless about him, an ageless elegance that both intrigues and terrifies you. He's dressed in a plain white shirt with the top buttons undone; a sparkling necklace is resting on his sculpted collarbone. Paired with the crisp white shirt are some tailored black suit trousers.

His eyes, dark and demanding, fixate on you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. You want to scream, to ask for an explanation, but your voice is caught in your throat. Paralyzed by fear, you can do nothing but watch as he stands there, unmoving, like a statue.

Every fibre of your being screams at you to run, to escape the confines of your room, but your body refuses to obey. Your eyes lock with his, and in that moment, you feel like he's looking deep into your soul, unravelling your deepest fears and desires.

A thousand questions flood your mind, but there's one that rises above all others—how did he get in? Your apartment is secure, and you remember locking the doors before you went to bed. This should be impossible.

Time stretches into an unbearable silence, and the air grows colder around you. You can't tear your gaze away from him, even though every instinct is screaming at you to flee. You wonder if this is a nightmare, or something far more surreal. As the seconds tick away, the handsome stranger's enigmatic presence fills your room with an electrifying tension, leaving you with an unsettling certainty that your life will never be the same again.

You gather what little courage you can muster and finally manage to croak out the words,

"Who are you? What do you want?" Your voice quivers with both fear and curiosity.

The mysterious man takes a step closer, and as he does, you can't help but notice the charm that surrounds him. His charisma is undeniable, drawing you in like a moth to a flame, despite the terror that courses through your veins.

A small smile graces his lips, but he still doesn't offer his name. Instead, he leans in, his dark eyes never leaving yours. His voice is a soft, seductive whisper, like a haunting melody in the night.

"My name doesn't matter," he says, his voice like velvet. "What's more important is what I am."

Your heart races as he inches even closer, and an inexplicable magnetic pull tugs at your very core. It's as if you're under a spell, unable to look away from him.

He continues, his voice filled with a strange melancholy, "I am a creature of the night, bound by ancient desires and an insatiable thirst."

Your breath catches in your throat as his words hang in the air. A sense of dread washes over you, as you begin to piece together the truth. "You can't be... a vampire?" you whisper, disbelief mixing with the fear.

WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN - alex turnerWhere stories live. Discover now