The Rapture

"Ugh, who the hell is calling at this hour?" Mia grumbled into the phone, her voice thick with sleep and annoyance. She had been having a particularly vivid dream, and the abrupt awakening left her feeling disoriented and irritable. "If this is another telemarketer trying to sell me dildos, I swear to God..."

“Hello Mia,” I say in a horse-worn tone.

But her words trailed off as she recognized the voice on the other end of the line. "Evie?" she exclaimed, her tone instantly shifting from annoyance to concern. "Where are you? Are you okay? Your parents have been calling me non-stop, worried sick!"

"They've already called you?" I ask, a sigh escaping her lips.

"Yeah," Mia replied, her voice filled with concern. "Everyone's been so worried. We've been calling everyone we know, looking for you. Where have you been?"

I hesitate for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. "It's a long story," I say finally, my voice heavy with exhaustion. "I'm too tired to explain right now. Can you please call my parents? I left my phone at the graduation. Just tell them I'm safe, and that I'm staying with you for a while."

I sense Mia's hesitation, not entirely comfortable with the idea of lying to my parents. Hopefully, she also recognizes my desires in my voice and will be reminded of our high school escapades, sneaking out to stay at boys' houses when they weren't supposed to.

"Long night, huh?" Mia quipped, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. "Do I know this boy you're shacking up with?"

A faint smile flickered across my face, but it quickly faded as exhaustion weighed down my spirits. "I'll tell you everything later," I promise. "But yes, I'm staying with a guy."

"We are having this talk later, and soon," she declared, her voice firm but reassuring. "And I need to know where you're staying, in case something happens. You know, just in case I need to know who to kill."

I smile, a genuine warmth spreading through me despite my exhaustion. "Obsidian Spire," I reply. "If you need anything, the security at the desk knows who I am. And keep this number. It's the guy I'm staying with. I probably won't have my phone while I'm here."

"Okay," Mia said, a hint of relief in her voice. "Get some rest, Evie. But we are talking about this later. Love you."

"Love you too, Mia," my voice barely a whisper. "And thank you."

I end the call, a wave of relief washing over me. At least my parents will know I am safe, for now. I hand the phone back to Arlo, my eyes heavy with sleep.

Arlo takes the phone from me with a gentle smile. "Rest now, Evie," he urged. "We'll talk more when you've had some sleep."

I nod, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion. I climb onto the bed, sinking into the most luxurious sheets I have ever encountered. The silk felt the smooth fabric against my skin, a welcome contrast to the turmoil that rages within. I nestle my face into the fluffy pillows, their softness offering a comforting embrace.

With a wave of Arlo's hand, the lights dim, and the blackout shades silently descend, blocking out the first rays of sunlight that dare to peek through the tinted windows. Closing my eyes, the world fades into darkness as sleep calms me.

For a moment, I am lost in a dreamless void, my mind blissfully blank. Images begin to flicker behind my eyelids, fragments of memories and fears. My parents worried faces, the blood-stained woman at the party, Alistair's piercing gaze. They swirled and twisted, a kaleidoscope of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

But then, a comforting warmth envelops me, a soothing presence that seems to chase away the shadows. I feel Arlo's hand on my shoulder, his silent reassurance grounding me amidst the chaos. With a sigh, I surrender to the embrace of sleep, my troubled mind finally finding a moment of peace.

In the depths of my slumber, I find myself entwined with Arlo. His warmth envelops my body as we lay together, the intimacy of our embrace a stark contrast to the turmoil of my waking life. His fingers traced patterns on my bare skin, a touch so soft sending shivers down my spine, a mixture of unease and excitement. I feel the hard length of him pressing against me, a silent promise of pleasure that both thrills and terrifies me.

His hands moved to my breasts, his touch gentle yet possessive. He leans in, his lips brushing against the nape of my neck, sending a wave of heat through my body. A moan escapes my lips as I surrender to the sensation, the dream weaving a tapestry of forbidden desire.

But then, I awake with a gasp, the moon's silvery light illuminating the space beside me. The sheets are cold, the memory of Arlo's touch a phantom sensation on my skin. It had all been a dream, a cruel trick of my subconscious.

I roll onto my side, my heart pounding in my chest. The dream felt so real, so visceral. It awakened a longing within me, a yearning for connection and intimacy that I haven't ever experienced before. But is it just a dream, or a glimpse into the future?

I close my eyes, trying to recapture the warmth of Arlo's embrace, but it eludes my grasp. All that remains is the lingering ache of desire and the cold reality of my solitude.

I slid out of bed, the silk sheets pooling around my ankles. As I glance around the room, I notice the closet door standing ajar, revealing a glimpse of its contents. Curiosity piqued, I pad over to investigate.

The sight lay and hung before me, is both baffling and unsettling. Half of the expansive closet is full of women's clothing, each piece meticulously arranged and perfectly tailored to my size. Dresses, blouses, skirts, trousers - an entire wardrobe curated with impeccable taste. Even underwear and bras perfectly fit my size.

Confusion swirls in my mind. "What the hell?" I mutter under my breath. "How? Does Arlo bring women here all the time? How does he know my size?"

A wave of unease washed over me. The dream, the intimacy I had felt with Arlo, now seems even more surreal. Is this his way of marking his territory, of claiming me as his own?

Shaking off the unsettling thoughts, I quickly grab a plain white shirt from the closet, pulling it on to cover my exposed skin. I walk toward the open living area, my bare feet padding silently on the polished marble floors.

Arlo is already up, bustling around the kitchen island. He turns as I enter, a warm smile on his face. "Good morning," he greeted, gesturing towards a crystal goblet filled with a deep red liquid. "I made you breakfast."

My eyes are wide as I recognize the contents of the glass. A wave of anger surging in me fuels the lingering unease from the closet discovery.

"What the hell, Arlo?" I demand, my voice sharp with accusation. "How do you have all those clothes in your closet?"

Arlo, unfazed by my outburst, calmly explains, "I placed an order with a boutique to be delivered this evening. I gave them my best guess at your size and asked them to fill the closet with everything a woman might need. There should be plenty of makeup as well. Let me know if anything's missing."

He pauses, his gaze softening slightly. "You can have the master bedroom, Evie. I'll take one of the guest rooms."

My protest dies on my lips. "But...I can't take your room," I stammer, feeling a pang of guilt.

Arlo waves away my concerns. "It's not a problem," he assures me. "I want you to be comfortable here."

Still flustered, I nod my thanks and turn to the glass of blood. I hesitate a moment, the memory of my first taste still fresh in my mind. But the hunger gnawing at my stomach is undeniable. With a deep breath, I raise the glass to my lips and drink.

The blood, is rich and satisfying, a rush of warmth spreading through my body. A visceral reminder of my new reality. As I finish the glass, a sense of calm washes over me, the initial shock of my transformation giving way to a grudging acceptance. I may be a vampire now, but I am still Evie. And I will find a way to navigate this new world, one step at a time.

Arlo, his voice barely above a whisper, broke the comfortable silence that had settled between us. "Do you enjoy dancing, Evie?"

Still wrapped in the plush comfort of the bedding, I blink sleepily. "Dancing?" I echo a hint of confusion in my voice.

"Yes," Arlo replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We need to test your willpower among humans. We'll start with a nightclub run by a vampire. If you get hungry, go to the bar. They'll know what you need."

I sit up, a wave of apprehension washing over me. "A nightclub?" I question, my voice laced with uncertainty.

Arlo nods. "It's the perfect environment to practice controlling your thirst," he explains. "The air will be thick with the scent of blood, the music pulsing with temptation. It'll be a true test of your resolve."

He pauses, his gaze meeting mine. "While you're there, try to hone your perception of Auras," he instructs. "Learn to distinguish between vampires and humans. It's a crucial skill for navigating this new world."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the challenge. "Alright," I agree, a spark of determination in my eyes. "Let's do it."

I go into the bathroom to get ready. As I reach for my makeup bag, I freeze. There were no mirrors in the bathroom.

Puzzled, I turn to Arlo, who is leaning against the doorway, a knowing smile on his face. "Mirrors won't do you any good, Evie," he explained. "You don't have a reflection anymore."

My heart sinks as I realize the full extent of my transformation. I am no longer human, no longer bound by the physical laws that govern the mortal world.

Arlo, sensing my distress, hands me his phone. "Use the camera," he suggests. "It's the best way to apply makeup now."

I nod gratefully, a flicker of hope returning to my eyes. I might be a vampire, but I am still Evie. And I will find a way to adapt to this new life, even if I have to use a phone camera to apply my lipstick.

I walk out of the bedroom dressed to impress. I am wearing a sparkling red and black top and a leather skirt, I draw admiring glances as I enter the Crimson Veil. My transformation has enhanced my natural beauty, my features are now sharper, and my eyes are more alluring.

The interior is a symphony of red and black, plush velvet drapes cascading from the high ceilings, and flickering candlelight casting an intimate glow. The dance floor pulses with energy, bodies swaying to the hypnotic beat of the music.

Arlo sits in the VIP lounge overlooking the dance floor, watching me with a mixture of pride and concern. He is surrounded by a group, their conversation a low hum in the background. But his attention remains fixed on me, his gaze unwavering as I navigate the crowded dance floor.

Determined to resist my newfound cravings, I focused on Arlo's instructions. I close my eyes, tuning out the pulsating music and the intoxicating scent of sweat and perfume. Instead, I concentrate on the subtle energy fields that surround each individual.

It takes a few moments, but gradually, I begin to distinguish the auras. Vampires radiate a vibrant red hue, their energy pulsing with a primal intensity. Humans, on the other hand, have a more muted, neutral aura, their colors blending into the background.

With a newfound sense of purpose, I step onto the dance floor, the pulsating rhythm of the music vibrating through my body. The Crimson Veil is a haven of shadows and neon lights, the air thick with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and yes, the alluring tang of blood.

A woman with skin like moonlight and eyes like molten gold catches my attention. She moves with a feline grace, her body swaying in perfect sync with the music. Her crimson dress clings to her curves, accentuating her lithe form and the subtle shimmer of her skin.

I find myself drawn into her orbit, our combined energy a magnetic force that pulls me closer. "You move like a dream," I say, my voice barely audible above the music.

She flashes a dazzling smile, her fangs momentarily glinting in the dim light. "And you, my dear, dance like a flame," she purred, her voice a velvety caress. "Newly turned, I presume?"

I nod, a shy smile playing on my lips. "Just a few hours ago," I admit.

"Ah, to be young and full of fire," she sighs, a wistful look in her eyes. "Enjoy it while it lasts, darling. The world can be a cruel place for us."

With that, she twirls away, leaving me momentarily breathless.

Feeling the hunger I go to the bar and flag the bartender to give me a shot. A tall, muscular man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes slides onto the stool beside me at the bar. He exudes an aura of confidence and power, his movements both fluid and predatory. His tailored suit cannot hide the latent energy that ripples beneath the surface, a testament to his vampiric nature. He doesn't look at me, but I have to use all my strength to resist the impulse to jump on him right there.

The man's energy was intoxicating, his strength a thrilling contrast to my newfound power. Downing the shot quickly before returning to the dance floor, determined to keep my focus.

As I move through the crowd, a young man with night-black hair and pale skin catches my eye. He dances with abandon, his laughter echoing above the music. His emerald blue eyes sparkle with mischief, his every move a seductive invitation.

"Care to dance?" he asks, extending a hand toward me.

I hesitate for a moment, then nod, a playful smile curving my lips. We move together, our bodies swaying in sync with the rhythm. He is a skilled dancer, his movements both graceful and energetic.

He becomes embolden by my apparent receptiveness and grew bolder with each action. His hands begin to wander, straying dangerously close to the hem of my skirt. I stiffen, my initial amusement turning to disgust.

With a swiftness that surprises even me, I turn to face him, my eyes narrow in warning. But it isn't just my eyes that convey my displeasure. My aura flares, a wave of dark maroon nearly black icy dominance washing over the man. He recoils burning, his face contorts into fear and confusion. He mumbles a hasty apology before stumbling away, his bravado now gone and only a cowering shame remains.

I watch him go, a newfound understanding dawning upon me. My aura isn't just a sensory tool; it is a weapon, a shield, a means of asserting my will. The realization sends a thrill through me, a sense of empowerment that eclipses my initial fear. I have found a way to protect myself, to navigate this dangerous new world on my terms.

Heading to the bar, I sip from a glass of water, the liquid doing little to quench my thirst but providing a momentary distraction from the tempting scent of blood that permeated the air. I return to the dance floor, losing myself in the rhythm and the energy of the crowd until the club finally closes its doors.

By the end of the night, I am exhausted but exhilarated. I have successfully resisted my urges, my willpower proving stronger than my thirst. I have made significant progress in my understanding of auras, a skill that will prove invaluable in the days to come.

As we leave the club, I turn to Arlo, a newfound confidence in my eyes. "I did it," a hint of pride in my voice. "I didn't feed."

Arlo smiles, his eyes filling with approval. "I knew you could do it," he replies, offering me his arm. "Now, let's get you home."