Once the stranger noticed her presence, he yelled, “You were not supposed to see this!” One of the hostile vampires started moving towards her, its eyes glinting with malevolent intent. Realizing it wasn’t a game or simulation and her life was genuinely in danger, Claire turned to run. Her world spun out of control as she stumbled backward. This was not a hallucination. This was her new, unnervingly real reality.
Her speed pitted against a vampire's was an unfair battle. She found herself trapped, the creature's predatory grin revealing sharp fangs ready to strike. Behind her, a cold, unyielding wall offered no escape. Panic surged through her veins.
What happened next felt like a miracle. The stranger, now revealed as a vampire aligned against the hostile ones, leapt towards her in a blur of motion. With a swift, masterful strike of his blade, he slayed the vampire who threatened her, reducing it to a pile of ash that vanished into nothingness.
“Careful! Are you alright?” His concern was evident, though his fangs made the situation surreal. He was so close that Claire could see the precise detail of his eyes—warm, brown steel juxtaposed with his blond hair, an unusual but striking combination. Dressed in all black, his attire clung to his muscular frame, revealing tattoos that snaked along the exposed parts of his body. She noticed blood on him. Instinctively, she leaned in to cover what seemed like a wound, but it miraculously disappeared before she managed to touch it.
“Easy, girl. I don’t even know your name,” he smirked but then quickly frowned, his face turning into an emotionless, steely mask.
“You are much trouble for me tonight. What’s your name?”
“I’m Claire, Claire Sinclair,” she stammered, the only words she could muster. Fear and anger roiled inside her—anger at the stranger who’d turned her birthday into a nightmarish mess where she couldn’t separate reality from the products of her imagination.
“I’m Thomas,” he introduced himself curtly and grabbed her hand firmly.
“What are you doing?” she protested, trying to pull away.
“You’re coming with us. I can’t leave it like this after what you’ve seen. We’ll have to deal with you.”
Before she could react, Thomas and his cohort had whisked her out of the club and into a van parked discreetly outside. Claire thought she saw Hugo searching for her, his voice shouting her name, but her mind was too overwhelmed to call out or resist. The morning worries about the exam seemed laughably trivial now.
As the van sped away from the club, Claire’s adrenaline began to wane, replaced by an overwhelming fatigue. She glanced at Thomas, whose stoic demeanor offered no comfort. Despite everything, she found her head involuntarily settling onto his shoulder, lulled by the rhythmic movement of the van.
“That’s too much for one day,” she murmured, her eyelids growing heavy. Before long, she succumbed to the exhaustion, drifting off to sleep against the sturdy form of the mysterious and undeniably good-looking Thomas.