I never thought chasing a story would get me killed. But here I am, standing in the rain-soaked streets of New York, the faint stench of blood clinging to the alleyways. There's something in the air tonight—something darker, heavier than the usual grime and crime I've grown used to reporting. My gut tells me I'm onto something big. But beneath the adrenaline, there's a gnawing feeling in my chest that I've already crossed a line. I've gone too deep.
The first body turned up two weeks ago, drained of blood. The police say it's some kind of cult ritual, but the details don't add up. Then the second victim surfaced—same M.O., same eerie lack of evidence. No footprints, no usable fingerprints, nothing. That's when I know there's more to the story. The smell of rain and damp asphalt fills the air, mingling with something metallic, like copper. I don't want to believe the rumors I've heard over the years—the whispers of creatures that stalk the night, that drink human blood.
Vampires.
It sounds ridiculous, even in my head. But with every passing day, the clues pull me closer to an answer I don't want to accept. Too many coincidences. Too many bodies. Too many unanswered questions. I don't have the hard evidence yet, but if these things are real… if vampires are real…
I shake my head, forcing the thought away. It's absurd. Impossible. But the clues gnaw at me, dragging me toward a conclusion I refuse to accept. I tell myself I need hard evidence, not these ridiculous urban legends.
I shiver, pulling my coat tighter against the cold rain as I step deeper into the alley. My boots splash through puddles of who-knows-what, the water seeping into the cracks of the old pavement. This part of the city feels like a bad dream—a place you try to forget, but it stays with you, clinging like the stench of cigarette smoke. The alley seems to close in around me, pressing me between the cracked brick walls.
I glance over my shoulder, scanning the dark street behind me. Nothing. Just the soft hum of the city around me. Still, there's a chill running down my spine, a feeling I can't shake.
Another step forward. Then I freeze.
The air feels thicker, electric. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I hear it—footsteps. Light, barely audible, but unmistakable. My heart picks up, pounding in my chest as instincts scream at me to turn back. To run. But I've never been good at walking away. It's what makes me a good journalist.
Or maybe a stupid one.
I try to steady my breath as a shadow shifts in the corner of my vision, just out of reach of the dim streetlights. I squint, trying to make out the shape. My voice comes out hoarse, almost shaky. "Who's there?"
My words echo off the brick walls, swallowed by the silence that presses in around me. For a moment, nothing. Then, a figure steps forward, moving out of the darkness like a predator emerging from the night.
He is tall. Imposingly tall, with sharp features and eyes that gleam in the faint light. There's an intensity in his gaze—a warmth that contradicts the danger rolling off him in waves. My breath catches in my throat. A small part of me whispers vampire, but I immediately shove it aside.
No. Of course not. It's just fear playing tricks on me.
"You've been asking the wrong questions," he says, his voice smooth as silk, though there's a rumble beneath it, like distant thunder. He steps closer, and my feet instinctively move back.
"Funny," I force myself to speak, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm starting to think I'm getting closer than you'd like."
Dante's voice rumbles, low and menacing, like a warning thunder in the distance. "Closer?" His gaze sharpens, locking onto mine with a fierce intensity. "You have no idea what you've stumbled into."
A flicker of something that's not quite a smile crosses his face, and before I can process it, more figures materialize from the shadows. A woman with striking red hair, and a man with wild, untamed eyes. They move with an eerie grace, their steps soundless, predatory. My heart races as I realize I'm surrounded.
"Let me guess," I say, summoning every ounce of courage I can find, "you're the ones behind all this."
The woman with red hair steps forward, her eyes soft yet unreadable. There's a calmness about her, but it only makes her more dangerous. "We're not the ones you should fear."
I try to bite back the sarcasm, but it slips out anyway. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"
Her words hang heavy in the air. I feel my hands are trembling, so I shove them deep into my pockets to hide it. My eyes dart between the three of them, searching for any sign of weakness, but there's none. They're like shadows come to life, and I'm caught in the middle of their world.
The man with wild eyes lets out a low, unsettling laugh. "She's got spirit. I like that." He tilts his head, studying me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl.
The tall man takes another step toward me, and I take an instinctive step back. Something about him sets my nerves on edge. He's too calm, too controlled. Like a predator biding its time. His eyes never leave mine. "We're here for the same reason you are. To uncover the truth. But I'm not sure you're ready for what you'll find."
"Dante, stop scaring her." The beautiful woman speaks sharply. She is stunning—tall, graceful, and exuding an air of confidence that makes me feel small in comparison. She doesn't even glance at me, her attention focused entirely on the man—Dante, I guess—who still hasn't taken his eyes off me.
"She's not supposed to be here, Lila," Dante says, his tone sharp, frustrated.
"And neither are we," Lila shoots back.
She finally looks at me and I stumble backward under the weight of her gaze. The tension in the air spikes. Three of them. There are three of them, all watching me with the same predatory intensity, like I'm some kind of puzzle they're trying to solve. I'm not sure what is more alarming—the fact that they seem to know exactly why I'm here, or the fact that they have cornered me in the alleyway.
"Look," I say, trying to sound braver than I feel, "I don't know who you are or what you're doing here, but I'm not leaving until I get some answers."
Lila sighs, her gaze flicking between Dante and the man with wild eyes. "She's stubborn."
"That'll get her killed," Dante mutters, his eyes narrowing as he studies me.
I feel my pulse pounding in my neck, my breath quickening despite my efforts to stay calm. I try to breathe slowly through my nose, hoping it makes me look deliberate instead of terrified.
The wild-eyed man grins, taking a step closer, his eyes gleaming with something I can't place—curiosity, amusement, maybe both. "I like her. She's got guts."
I clench my fists, trying to steady myself. "Who the hell are you people?"
The man's laugh is dark, almost mocking. "Name's Nikolai. And as for who we are… well, you might want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."
Before I can respond, Lila snaps, her voice sharp. "Stop it, Nikolai." She turns back to me, her gaze softening again. "We're here to stop them."
My mind races. "Them… the ones? You mean… the murders?"
"Yes," Dante says, stepping forward again. "And it's exactly what you think."
"What do you mean 'exactly what I think'? You're saying you're here to stop these killings, but I haven't heard a single explanation. What are we dealing with here? Drugs? Some kind of cult?" My frustration boils over, fueled by fear and confusion.
Dante glances at Lila, something heavy and unspoken passing between them. Lila steps closer, her voice low and calm. "It's not drugs or a cult, Olivia."
My stomach drops. "How do you know my name?"
"We've been watching you," Nikolai says, grinning like it's no big deal.
The hairs on my neck stand on end. "Watching me? Why?"
"Because you're getting too close," Dante says, his voice serious. "Closer than anyone has in years."
"Too close to what?" My voice rises, panic bubbling beneath the surface. "What's going on?"
Lila locks eyes with me, her voice steady but heavy with meaning. "Vampires."
The word drops like a bomb, hanging in the air. I stare at her, waiting for the punchline. But there's none. No one laughs. They just watch me, their faces deadly serious.
Nikolai steps closer, cutting my thoughts short with a sharp, dangerous smile. "It's cute that you still think you have a choice," he says, his voice almost playful, but there's an edge to it. "You want to walk away, pretend you never stumbled into this? That's not how it works, sweetheart."
I open my mouth to protest, but the words die on my tongue. My heartbeat thuds in my ears as I stare into his eyes, searching for any sign of deception. But there's none. No hint of mockery, no trace of a joke. Just a chilling certainty that makes my blood run cold. I try to laugh it off, to shake this off like some bizarre prank gone too far. But the way they're all watching me—waiting for something—it sends a ripple of fear through me.
No.
This can't be real.
My logical mind fights back, trying to assemble the pieces into something that makes sense. Anything but this. Yet their eyes, unblinking and cold, hold me captive in a web of dark possibility.
What if they're right? What if I've already crossed the line?
A part of me still wants to deny it, to call them all crazy and storm off, but another part… another part wonders. Wonders if the bodies I've been chasing, the shadowy figures that have haunted my nights—if it all fits together in the way I've tried so hard to ignore.
Dante finally speaks, his gaze unwavering. "You're in this, whether you like it or not," he says quietly. "And you've seen too much to walk away now."
My stomach twists. Seen too much. The words settle over me like a heavy cloak, pressing down, suffocating. The alley closes in around me, the cracked brick walls a cage I can't escape from. I want to scream, to run, but my legs feel like lead. It's as if the gravity of the situation has rooted me to the spot, and the weight of their reality is dragging me down into something I can't comprehend.
I force myself to stand straighter, to fight the panic that's clawing at my insides. "So, what now?" My voice barely makes it past my throat, the words thin and fragile.
Lila speaks up before I can get an answer, her tone calm, yet heavy with finality. "You're in the middle of this now, Olivia. The bodies piling up in the city? They're not just a story. This isn't something you can uncover and walk away from."
I glare at her, frustration bubbling beneath my fear. "So you're all just going to drag me into this nightmare? Whether I want it or not?"
Dante, who's still standing uncomfortably close, doesn't move. He keeps his eyes locked on mine, unwavering. "No. You got yourself into this. We aren't doing anything, but offering you protection. There's no going back now." His voice is quiet but firm. "The question is whether you survive what's coming."
"You're… serious," I whisper, barely able to get the words out over the pounding rain.
"Very serious," Nikolai says, his gaze unflinching. "And they're the ones behind these killings."
My head spins. I've been chasing the idea for months, but I never really believe it could be true.
Vampires.
My mind races, trying to process it, but the pieces fall into place too easily. The bodies. The lack of evidence. The shadows watching me in the night.
Nikolai steps closer, his presence looming over me like a shadow. I can feel the heat of his body, the coldness of his gaze burning into mine. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. His smile sharpens, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickle with a new wave of dread. He's so close now, the rain dripping from his pale skin as if he's carved from stone. "I can prove it to you… if you want me to." Nikolai says in a husky voice, too close to my ear.
Before I can react, something yanks me backward with such force that the air rushes from my lungs. My back slams into something solid, and for a second, I can't breathe. My chest constricts, the shock of the movement leaving me gasping as I try to pull in air.
"Nikolai, don't." Dante's voice is sharp, his arm is around me, his grip firm but not crushing, holding me in place as he steps between me and Nikolai. I wheeze, trying to steady myself, feeling my body tremble from the sudden jolt. Dante glances down at me, his eyes flickering with something like concern. "Sorry," he mutters, almost too quietly for me to hear. "Didn't mean to…"
He loosens his grip just slightly, letting me breathe, but his hand still holds me close as though I might bolt at any moment. His touch, though rough, isn't threatening—just… too much. The strength behind his pull was effortless for him, but it left me winded, shaken.
From the corner of my eye, I see Nikolai smirking, his gaze flicking between us. "Careful, Dante," he says smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. "Humans are a little more breakable, aren't they?"
Dante shoots him a warning look, but Nikolai just shrugs. There's no malice in his gaze, only a dark, teasing edge, as though he enjoys watching the small ways we fumble through their world.
"You're in danger, Olivia," Dante says, his voice low, unshaken, "but not from us."
I stand up straighter, finally able to breathe, and meet his gaze, defiant and angry. "Then who?" I say, my frustration near boiling point.
His eyes darken, a shadow passing over his face. "Others. Rogues. They've been killing to make a point. And you…" His hand reaches out, and for a moment, I think he's going to touch me. Instead, his fingers hover near my shoulder, as if sensing something unseen. "…you've caught their attention."
My breath hitches, and fear curls cold in my gut. I am terrified. I should be running. But something in Dante's voice—something in the way his eyes lock onto mine—holds me in place.
"Why are you telling me this?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
Lila steps forward, her voice softer now. "Because whether you like it or not, you're part of this now. And we protect what's ours."
I blink, the word ours hitting me harder than it should.
Theirs?
Before I can fully process what that means, Nikolai grins, sharp and dangerous. "Welcome to the game, darling."
At that moment, everything shifts. I know whether I like it or not, I'm caught in the middle of a world I don't understand, surrounded by vampires who aren't just part of that darkness.
They are the darkness.
And they aren't letting me go.