At this point, there were only two possibilities: you were either completely losing it or someone was actually stalking you.

While you were never able to fully forget about the incident in your townhouse, you’d managed to push it to the back of your mind for a few days, thinking whoever did it would eventually confess to the joke. But that confession never came.

One day during a slow afternoon, a delivery man brought a beautiful bouquet of yellow sunflowers and dark red roses. While the delivery man was working on getting the signature pad to work, you fiddled with the velvet soft petals of the flowers.

“Who are these for?” you asked as you signed handheld with the very worn out stylus. People sent patients get well gifts all the time, but typically they went to the main lobby. For some reason, the man had told you that he was directed to deliver them here in the ER.

“Um,” the man frowned, flipping through his different invoices. “(y/n) (l/n).”

You gaped. “Me?” Standing up from your chair, you scooted the flowers closer to you for inspection. “Who are they from?”

“No idea,” the man shrugged as he packed up his stuff. “There’s a card, though. Have a nice day.”

His lacking departing courtesy wasn’t exactly what you would expect from a floral delivery service, but you brushed it off, too concerned on who would have known you well enough to send you a vase full of your favorite flowers. Plucking the small envelope off the little plastic fork, you quickly opened it with clumsy fingers. You prayed these weren’t from Jae. He’d backed off greatly recently, keeping your relationship strictly at the friend level where you wanted it. The morning runs were much more pleasant that way.

The script on the card was made of stunning swirls and loops, like how you’d expect a calligrapher to write. But as pretty as the words looked, what they said was anything but.

You look so beautiful first thing in the morning. Especially in the blue sweater. Keep wearing it for me. It’s a wonderful sight to see. Watching you is the greatest part of my day.

You dropped the card on the counter like it’d suddenly caught fire. Was someone watching you? Only recently had you bought a new sweater to sleep in. Your apartment was drafty and you preferred the cold, but lately you hadn’t been sleeping well. The sweater and it’s warmth had been helping tremendously, but you knew for certain that you hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. It wasn’t important enough.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

Claire’s sudden presence made you jump. That just caused her own worry to escalate.

“Whoa,” she put her hands up in defense. “What’s going on?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but how? This was just too much. Jumping to the phone, you dialed the number that was printed on the back of the card provided by the floral shop.

“Thank you for calling Chocolatier Florals and Sweets, how can I help you?”

“Hi,” you greeted the girl on the other line. You weren’t technically supposed to be using the hospital phone for personal calls like this, but your own cell was in your locker and you needed an answer now. “I just got a delivery from you guys, but there’s no name on the card so I was wondering if you could tell me who sent them.”

“Certainly,” the girl agreed readily. “May I have your name?”

After giving her your full name, you waited in a manner that somewhat resembled patience, listening to the little clicks of the keyboard as she typed the information into her computer.

The girl hummed curiously. “That’s strange.”

“What is?” Panic was starting to build up in you.

“I found the record of the order,” the girl informed you, “but the customer name is blank and they paid with cash. Usually we still required contact information for all orders just in case something happens, but it’s all blank. I’m sorry.”

You sighed. Of course. The shop having the answer would have been too easy. “That’s okay. Thank you.”

With a bit too much force, you slammed the phone back down on the receiver.

“(y/n), what’s going,” Claire demanded.

Unable to voice your fear, you simply pointed to the card on the desk. Pursing her lips, Claire picked it up. As she took in each word, her face morphed from confusion to surprise to complete shock.

“(y/n), you need to go to the police.”

You collapsed into the chair, feeling vulnerable. “And say what? That I got that note with some pretty flowers.”

“Your favorite flowers,” Claire reminded you. “First your furniture and now this. (y/n), I think you have a stalker.”

“Who in their right mind would ever stalk me?” you scoffed.

Claire crossed her arms, leaning up against the counter. “Key words there. Right mind. Typically stalkers aren’t in their right minds. Seriously, (y/n), you should go to the police before this escalates.”

She was right. Whoever this was, they were watching you, even in your own home. How, you had no idea and that frightened you even more.

Making up your mind, you opened one of the drawers and pulled out a fresh zip lock bag stashed there for emergencies, placing the card and envelope inside. Then you took pictures of the flowers before carrying them off to the locker room while Claire watched the front desk for you.

The first instinct that crossed your mind was to just throw the flowers away, but that just seemed too cruel to the flowers who had no choice in being delivered to you. Plus, you didn’t know if the police would want to see the flowers as well as the card, although you couldn’t come up with a logical reason why.

So, you did the second cruelest thing to flowers and stored them in your locker for safe keeping. They were already plucked and cut. Death would come for them soon anyway.

Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, your shift ran longer than normal. It wasn’t the car crash victims’ fault and you simply had to stay to make sure everyone was stable and the paperwork ready for the next shift to take over. The crash wasn’t life threatening, but a few of the occupants had broken bones and one had a mild concussion. Not exactly something you could just leave in the middle of.

It was pitch black outside by the time you left the hospital. There was no point in stopping by the police station tonight. It was so late in the evening that most of the detectives would be gone anyway and all you wanted to do at this point was lie down in your bed and try to get some rest. It could wait until the morning.

Your usual bus stop was only a few blocks away, but you hurried your steps anyway. Between the flowers and your stuff, you were on high alert. Every shadow, every noise, every trick of the eye was making you gasp or jump in fright. Less than a minute would go by and then you were looking over your shoulder again and again to try and spot if anyone was following you. So far, there was no one that you could catch.

The bus stop was deserted when you arrived and, according to your watch, you still had five minutes before it would arrive. You prayed that it would come early before you lost your mind.

Two minutes later, it seemed your prayer was answered as the bus came rolling to a stop in front of you. Only one other person beside the driver was present among the seats, all the way in the back with his coat collar standing straight up and a bucket hat pulled low over his face.

Choosing the seat furthest from the passenger and closest to the door, you sat down and waited for the bus to get moving again. Unlike your usual habit, you didn’t put your headphones in or close your eyes and lean your head against the window to wait for you stop. You stayed at a full attention, gaze wandering around the bus as if your stalker might suddenly appear on the moving vehicle. When it was your time to get off, you barely whispered a thank you to the driver before running up to your house and unlocking the door.

Once inside, you felt better, if just by a small margin. Making sure that all the locks on your door were secure, you took a deep breath before moving on to the windows. Everything seemed to be calm and normal within your home. Your bedroom was a sense of comfort as you stripped off the dirty scrubs in favor of your PJs. The shorts were easy to slip into, but when you picked up your sweater, you paused.

The card that was secure in your bag mocked you.

You look so beautiful first thing in the morning. Especially in the blue sweater.

Suddenly filled with rage, you threw your sweater across the room before grabbing a long sleeved shirt out of your closet. Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you tried to hide as much of yourself under your covers as possible while still being able to breathe.

To say you got minimal sleep would be an exaggeration. You couldn’t even remember ever falling asleep after hours of tossing and turning, wondering if they were watching you. It was too much of a possibility for you.

The next morning you were half dead. Putting in miniscule amounts of effort in your looks, you gathered up your things before sending a quick text to Jae that you wouldn’t be able to make it this morning and heading out the door. As you turned around to lock the deadbolt, you screamed.

Taped to your front door was a regular piece of copy paper. But printed on it was your face. The picture was the kind of surveillance photo you say in movies all the time of someone being followed without them knowing. You were exiting your home while talking on your cell. What was even more terrifying was the giant letters printed above the picture.

MISSING.

Ripping the picture from your door, you ran to the nearest police station. By the time you reached the front desk, you were huffing and puffing, trying to catch your breath enough to explain. The woman behind the desk saw your distress and rushed around the wooden barrier to help you. She showed you to another room, sitting you down at one of the many small desks before running off to find a detective. When one finally arrived, you were able to finally speak again.

The detective was attentive as he sat there and listened to you. His eyes scanned over the card, the missing person poster, and even the pictures of your furniture on your phone. At the end, he sighed.

“These are certainly causes for concern. However,” he cleared his throat, “there isn’t much we can do.”

“What!” you screeched. “What do you mean?”

“Do you have any idea who might be doing this?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No. That’s why I came here. Someone is stalking me or harassing me or whatever you want to call it. They broke into my home.”

“Without leaving a trace,” the detective reminded you. With a guilty look on his face, he slid a pen and pad in your direction. “Here. Leave your address with us and we’ll station an undercover car outside your place. See if we we can catch him. Until then, just try to be extra cautious. Don’t take any unnecessary risks. If anything else happens, come here straight away, day or night.”

Scoffing, you wrote down your address in the most spiteful way possible and stormed out of the precinct.

Claire could tell something was wrong as soon as you came barreling into the ER, but you refused to speak.

When she asked if you’d gone to the police yet, you simply nodded, not bothering to elaborate.

It was dark once again when you left work, the sun setting earlier and earlier each day. You were still too worked up about your failure of a report to really panic about being followed. The bus stop was within your sight. Just a few more feet-

Hands reached out and grabbed you, slamming your back into the brick of the alleyway. A pair of impossibly bright red eyes shined at you in the dark.

“Now why did you have to go and ruin my fun like that?”

“Let me go!” you yelled, fighting against the tight grips on your upper arm. One of them let go just cover your mouth and keep you quiet.

“I was looking forward to another week or so of playing with you, but you had to go to the police,” the sickly sweet voice growled. “They’re easy enough to avoid, but I prefer to not be cut off from my toy.”

You whined behind his ice cold hand. This was the stalker and he enjoyed the game of making you question your sanity. He was sick, twisted. But how were his eyes reflecting the light that way? It wasn’t possible.

Everything in your instincts told you this man wasn’t human. And he’d caught you in his trap.

Removing his hand from your mouth, he moved it down to your chin, forcing your head to the side so your neck was exposed. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched in horror as his canine teeth grew over twice their length.

He took a deep breath. “You smell so intoxicating. This is going to be delicious.”

His face disappeared from your view and you felt the pain of puncturing skin in your neck. You screamed as loud as you could, hoping someone would hear you and come to your rescue, before he took your head and knocked your skull against the wall, effectively silencing you and darkening your world.

**

Irritated was a very good word to use to describe Ravi’s current state. How he got ered into taking Hongbin’s night of patrol, he’ll never fully understand. That was the last time he’d take a bet from any of the younger members of the coven.

Ravi wasn’t exactly doing much “patrolling” anyway. He simply was taking a leisurely stroll, keeping his ears out for anything out of the ordinary while avoiding any humans.

The fact that there was a rogue vampire taunting them and hunting in their territory - killing in their territory - was insulting. Their lack of caring in leaving behind the bodies was even worse. Too much was left behind for the police to find, even if they didn’t understand what they were seeing. The six of them had to be even more careful in their feeding habits, going as long as they could without tasting blood while still staying somewhat civilized and in control of their stronger instincts.

It wasn’t easy.

At this very moment, Ravi’s throat was starting to tingle, but he pushed the urge down. He could still make it another week before he needed to find some poor soul to satisfy his needs.

Breaking through his silent night was a high pitched scream that was cut short almost as soon as it started. Then the scent of blood filled the air.

It was him.

Ravi followed the scent, using his speed to its full extent.

Finally.

In an alleyway near the hospital, Ravi found them. The rogue vampire had some young girl - you - pinned to the wall, gorging himself on your blood.

“You better have a good excuse for your little killing spree or else I’m going to rip your head from your shoulders,” Ravi growled.

The rogue snapped his head up and away from you, directing his red gaze at Ravi. Most of his face was covered by the high collar of his trench coat. He let out a threatening hiss, but Ravi was far from intimidated. Seeing that Ravi wasn’t going to back down or walk away, the rogue dropped you to the ground and ran.

Ravi sped after him. The space between them was so small that he needed just another inch and Ravi would be able to reach out and grab him. After glancing behind him, the rogue rounded a corner and jumped, landing hard on the roof. Ravi followed swiftly, trapping the rogue in the small area near the roof door. The rogue’s back was still to Ravi. He just needed one good look at his face. Or to just kill him and be done with it. Then the coven could go back to hunting in peace.

But then the rogue shimmered and disappeared.

“What?” Ravi snapped at nothing but the air. That wasn’t possible.

Frustrated at his failure when he was so close, Ravi kicked the door that led to the inside of the building, effectively putting a decent sized hole in the wood. He didn’t care. Let some stupid human fix it without knowing what happened.  

On a small flicker of hope that the rogue was going try to finish the job, Ravi ran back to the alleyway, but it was pointless. Only you were present, lying on your stomach on the ground. A small pool of blood was growing by your head. If he hadn’t had centuries of controlling his thirst, Ravi might have been tempted to drain you right there. But he held himself back. Your heart was still beating, if faintly.

His first choice was to just drop you off at the hospital and let them take care of you, but then the doctors would interrogate you, trying to figure out what was with the two teeth-like puncture marks in your neck.

So, instead, he figured the best solution was to take you back to the house and let Leo deal with you. But first….

Elongating his teeth, Ravi pricked his thumb with one of the sharp points of his fangs. After a few drops of his blood emerged, he gently wiped his thumb on the puncture marks, encouraging the wounds to heal closed. That should stop the bleeding and give you enough time for a transfusion.

With a long exhale, Ravi picked you up and started running back to the house. N was going to kill him.