9

"You can see shadows."

That's what Max said. Like it was just a fact. Like it was something I should've known all along.

But I didn't. Or maybe I did. I just never admitted it.

I've seen things for a while now, shadows moving when nothing else did, shapes flickering at the edge of my vision. I always blamed it on stress, or the nogitsune, or whatever leftover damage being possessed by a chaos demon might cause. Figments of a fraying mind. Tricks of the light. That's what I told myself.

But maybe I've been lying.

It was late, past midnight, and I was sitting on my bed, staring at the darkest corner of my room. The part where even the streetlights outside couldn't reach. It wasn't just dark. It felt heavy. Like it had depth. Like something was waiting there.

I raised my hand toward it, half-expecting... I don't know. Something dramatic. A whisper in the air. A shift. A sudden power surge. Nothing happened.

I dropped my hand and flopped back onto the bed, groaning into the quiet.

"I'm insane," I muttered at the ceiling. "I let a vampire into my house and now I think I can talk to shadows. Great. That's great. Next step: padded room and daily meds."

But I couldn't shake it. That feeling. That pull.

I sat up again, eyes locked on that same corner. It was stupid. I knew it was stupid. But I got up anyway, crossed the room in socked feet, and stepped right into the deepest part of the dark.

It was colder there.

Not just in temperature. In... presence. Like the air was thicker, more aware of me than I was of it. My skin prickled instantly. Not in fear, exactly. In recognition.

I closed my eyes and focused, not on what I could see, but on what I could feel. Something in the quiet. A pulse in the dark. A pressure on my ribs, like a heartbeat that wasn't mine.

And then I felt it.

Something coiling around me, slow and silent, not arms, but something like them. Not a threat, just... there. Like it had always been waiting.

And when I opened my eyes

I could see.

Not with light. Not like normal people do. But through the shadows. Like they peeled themselves back just for me. Like they were listening.

I stumbled back into the safety of the lamplight, heart pounding.

I looked down at my hand, it felt warm, like I'd touched something I wasn't supposed to. And as I watched, the shadow near my fingertips shifted. Moved. Not because of the light.

Because of me.

"What the hell," I breathed.

Max was right.

Something's still inside me.

And it's not gone.

I laid back in bed, eyes tracing the cracks in my ceiling, heart still beating like something had chased it up a wall. Maybe it had. Maybe it still was.

It's not just the shadows anymore. It's everything.

Everything that's happened over the past few months. Losing my dad. Losing Scott. Losing who I used to be. I don't even know what's left. A name. A body. Something hollow echoing with ghosts I never asked for.

And now Max.

He just... showed up. Like a glitch in the world. Like a story I wasn't supposed to be in.

I shouldn't be thinking about him. Not like this. He's a vampire. He kills people. He showed up at my door covered in blood and smiled like it was a joke, like I was the punchline. I should be afraid of him.

But I'm not.

Instead, I can't stop thinking about his voice. That smirk. The way he leaned close, the coolness of his breath on my neck. The way he looked at me like he already knew what I'd do, what I wanted.

It's wrong. So wrong.

But maybe I'm done pretending to be good.

I close my eyes and let my head fall to the side. My mind drifts, slipping too easily into the memory of him, Max at the bookstore, grinning like he owned the place. Max at my door, blood on his collar and amusement in his eyes. Max licking it off his lip like he wanted me to see.

God.

My hand slips beneath the hem of my shirt, trailing over my stomach. Not thinking. Just... reacting. Feeling. Wanting. I imagine what it would feel like if he touched me like that. Sharp teeth grazing skin. Cold hands pressing me down. His voice in my ear, low and amused.

"You like this, don't you?"

I inhale sharply, eyes still closed, breathing ragged now. My fingers drift lower, and I arch just slightly into the motion, palming my cock for just a moment before taking it fully in my fist. I don't even remember saying his name, but it falls from my lips in a whisper

"...Max."

There's heat in my chest, shame in my throat, but I don't stop. Not yet. Not when every nerve is lit with something I don't understand but crave all the same. My hand started moving faster, and then I started whispering under my breath, wishing he was here with me, touching me. I flicked my thumb over the swollen head, spreading precum all over my cock, starting pumping faster and faster.

My head went blank, I couldn't help but arching my back, pushing myself more against my hand, it did not take long until I came all over my hand and stomach. My breath was heavy and I couldn't stop thinking about him.

He's dangerous.

But maybe that's what makes it feel real.

Maybe, just maybe... I want to burn.