Every so often, Jesse woke up to the bitter aftertaste of nightmares.

For once, it would be nice to be chased by the Boogeyman or relive some fucked up moment in his life, but instead, he was hunted and held down by faceless victims dripping red with wounds in their throats. Some were worse than others—faces ripped open, chests tore into, necks broken and bloody, and yet, despite their fatal injuries, they moved like demons deadset on dragging him into hell.

But he always woke up before they did, sitting upright and breathing in the air like he’d never have it again, then shivering with relief when he realized everything was okay—for now.

This time, however, it was different.

Jesse didn’t struggle to tear himself away from the claws of bad dreams or fall out of his bed in a moment of fright; there wasn’t any breathlessness, nor did his heart threaten to burst from his chest.

No, this time, he just…woke up.

His eyes opened to the ceiling, watching the moving fan blades until his vision adjusted and he was ready to think past the lingering drowsiness, trying remembering if last night was a dream itself.

Things were a blur: the carnival, the walk to work, going down on Pike—um, okay, that part he remembered vividly—and the feeling of fangs sinking too-deep into his neck.

Jesse shivered and instinctively found the bitemark with the gentle touch of his fingertips; it was sore, still throbbing and wrapped in dark bruises, a wound that might never heal properly, and probably wasn’t as deep as Pike intended.

But what did he expect? Pike was a vampire, a demon reborn into mortal skin with an eternal desire to rip into the human body like a present and seek the red gifts within. And last night was nothing but a big fucking sign telling Jesse to get the hell out of Pike’s viewpoint, or there’d be a day his vampire manager wouldn’t stop.

Jesse’s cock twitched.

He jumped and glanced down, immediately cupping his awakened groin with a long groan. “Oh, come on, have you no shame?” He said to his dick. “There’s nothing sexy about potentially being torn apart by a vampire. So, stop.”

He gave his dick a light smack, but his hand lingered.

“He’s not sexy. He’s an asshole.”

Jesse started at the ceiling, reevaluating that comment.

“…Okay, no, he’s fucking hot.”

That lingering touch turned into a gentle massage the more his thoughts continued to wander—Pike’s face uneaten by shadows and the way light gathered in his amber eyes. Jesse could only imagine how they’d shine in actual sunlight or compliment that perfect smile if it wasn’t conquered by rows of pointed teeth. Unlike the movies, Pike didn’t have corpse gray or marble white skin; no, he had rather fair skin with a soft golden hue as if he carried the last trace of sunlight leftover from his human life. Yet, occasionally, when shadows gathered in his presence, or Pike lost to his vampiric nature, the sun under his skin would disappear behind a storm of muted tones.

Since Pike remembered nothing about his life before the change, whoever he once was remained a mystery, though Jesse was sure he was someone to be feared and respected. Just like now. And, if anyone decided otherwise, Pike was equipped with the build of someone who’d be more than happy to show them the error of their ways and finding a sick pleasure in watching them submit.

Just like last night, just like any other night.

His hand was moving now, having slipped under his briefs and finding the stiff erection he tried to neglect, and stroking it to a variety of thoughts and concerns.

A sensation rolled through his body, the same one that persuaded his hips to move and his moans to rise whenever Pike told him to do something—kneel, beg, suck, spread, whatever he wanted, Jesse would do. It wasn’t a dark enchantment cast by those ravenous eyes, but a sick fetish to be used and manipulated by this otherworldly demon.

Pre-cum collected at the tip of his dick, eventually falling in small doses down his shaft, giving every movement a slicker feel the longer he stroked. He shivered and shifted, but masturbation wasn’t enough anymore—Pike had fucked himself into Jesse’s core.

With a quickening pace, he pinched his nipple, twisting it and pulling it, trying to mimic Pike’s ruthless teasing,

Of course, it worked for shit and only sent vibes tingling down to his asshole that was disappointingly overlooked last night.

“You’re a damn mess down there, aren’t you?”

Jesse exhaled, trying not to attract attention from the neighbors—one especially.

“Here, right here.”

He could feel Pike breathing into his ear, making his skin wet with long, slow licks. 

A whimper slipped out. 

His hand moved faster and his hips lifted to the occasion.

“The spot I’d rip into…”

Cold whisps of dark words against his neck, fangs threatening to bite, a firm grip keeping him still.

“…to bleed you out.”

“A-Ahh, fuck…fuck…!” Jesse bunked his hips against a firm fist as slivers of cum escaped and found his stomach, reaching his bare chest in smaller spills.

Panting, he loosened his grip and relaxed after pumping out the last of his load into the palm of his hand. 

And he laid there in his sticky mess.

He needed new material. Seriously.

Jesse grabbed the closest thing to a towel to wipe his hands, and in between the thoughts of reevaluating his life, he remembered what day it was.

A blush crept across his face.

“Shit!” He said, throwing aside the shirt or whatever it was, and checking his phone.

4:00 PM.

Jesse’s eyes widened, and he jumped out of bed.

His apartment was small, nothing but a glorified studio filled with the mismatched décor of a man who had absolutely no taste. He did, however, like plants, and had a lot of them scattered around. Each one catching glimmers of false sunlight through old glass windows; succulents, ferns, ivy, small trees—they were little children he didn’t need to support.

Though it was strange how well they thrived without proper doses of sunlight, and Jesse opened the curtains to a murky gray sky holding back storm-tears.

Cloudy with a sure as hell chance of rain.

The same as every other day and had been for weeks.

Jesse wanted to be concerned, felt like he should be concerned, but his worries seemed to dull into the background of better senses when he reminded himself he needed to be at the gym before 5 PM.

He showered quickly, then slipped into his gym clothes, having to, unfortunately, settle for a long-sleeve shirt with a high neck to hide Pike’s bitemark. And if luck wasn’t already a bitch, this particular shirt only looked good with long pants. Hopefully, the humidity was kind today.

Scooping everything into his backpack—charger, keys, gym essentials—Jesse made the thoughtless mistake of answering his phone on the first ring. A painful regret sealed with a groan the moment his mother began bitching at him for things he was sure she’d made a list of before calling.

His folks were the definition of success-driven lunatics—his father was a mechanic who owned several garages across their hometown and neighboring cities. At the same time, his mother stayed at home with his younger sisters while living vicariously through her adult children. His older sisters were scattered in separate cities, all at the top of the food chain, while Jesse laid at the bottom being fucked by the elite.

“Erin just finished her Ph.D. thesis, Lyla co-owns a bistro, and Sophie is on the coast taking care of baby seals. So, what is my son doing?”

It was a repeated argument she could have every day for the remainder of her days until Jesse showed more initiative in his life choices, and starring in an amateur porno was definitely not compatible with her unreachable standards.

The ringing in his ears became unbearable, and by the time he opened his door—in the middle of his mother’s ranting—Jesse looked up and hollered in a sudden fright.

Standing outside was a creature dragged out of the deepest nightmares, a hideous entity born within the sewers of humanity's foulest secrets, a terrifying beast with the ability to cast fear over even the most frightening people in this city like a raven spreading its wings.

His neighbor, Kaz.

“Christ,” Jesse took a few odd breaths, each one trying to cover up the strange, confused murmurs seeping from his lips. “What are you doing, Kaz?”

If both girls from Ju-On and the Ring possessed the corpse of a hikikomori who was going through a teenage punk phase in their late twenties while living off a diet of corner-store burritos and human repulsion—you’d get Kaz.

He stood a head or so taller than Jesse but slumped enough that two of them were almost eye-to-eye—literally. Kaz’s long, black hair consumed half of his face, and the other half was barely making it out alive. Traces of his ghost-pale skin were touched by deep shadows—tired circles under his eyes, some outlining sharp cheekbones, and a few falling under surfaced collarbones, while other spots bared scars from unidentified sources. 

Everyone in the building avoided Kaz at all costs, just one look at him screamed trouble or a convicted felon, and not a single soul believed the man wasn’t high on something cruel and dangerous. Rumors floated from door-to-door and ear-to-ear about what he did all day in his apartment, then about his nightly activities after he slithered out his door at the peak of twilight.

“He spends all day looking up unsuspecting girls, and probably guys too, on a string of dating websites. Then, at night, he heads out to stalk them.”

“I heard he’s affiliated with organized crime as a hitman, especially for the Angelus.”

“He’s a drug-dealer.”

“No, he’s a murderer, probably killed that couple, remember? The two boys who were torn apart in their house? Probably responsible for the disappearance of that young woman too.”

No, actually, Kaz was just a perverted insomniac who streamed hentai games for a living.

“I…heard you masturbating,” His calm voice dragged particular words like he was too tired to think straight enough to keep his sentence together. “What to?”

Jesse stared, wide-eyes blinking.

In the background of their quiet moment, Jesse’s mom was still bitching on the other end of the call, and he hung up mid-rant. 

Kaz didn’t move.

“Just so you know, your porno reached fifth place on the gay gangbang search, tenth on creampie, tied for sixth on double penetration, and streamed at number one for tit-fucking.” The man didn’t blink.

Jesse snorted. Tit-fucking, really?

When reality smacked him across the face and dragged him back to the main issue, Jesse pressed his folded hands to his lips, and inhaled softly, but firmly. “Kaz...dude...you gotta stop streaming my porno with your weird-hentai fans, man, and seriously, stop listening to me when I’m—"

“I’ll give you fifty bucks for your briefs,” He interrupted, a ray of malevolence crossing his dark eyes, and he leaned closer, bringing the scent of smoke and sex with him.

Jesse leaned back, suppressing a tremble. “D-Dude, you’re really creepi—fifty bucks? Really?”

He paused, staring up at Kaz in a silent moment of consideration.

Several moments of consideration. 

Too many moments of consideration.

“Seventy,” Jesse said plainly.

“Sixty,” Kaz countered.

“Deal,” Jesse nodded once. “But...what are you going to do with them?”

Shouldn’t that have been the first question he asked?

“Sell them.” That answer was said too casually for Jesse's mental well-being.

“Ohhhkay, that’s not weird or anything,” He responded, sighing a little and rubbing the back of his neck. A little too late when he already accepted the deal. “Okay, well, you want me to go get a pair or—"

“The ones you have on, I want those. Post-workout.” A giant tarantula crawled out from behind Kaz’s neck, and Jesse jumped then flinched again when two more appeared from various sections of their host's body.

Nothing, not a single damn thing on this planet, or anything created by God or science or what-the-hell-ever was out there, could stop Jess’s lip from curling up in disgust.

He nodded. Slowly, unsurely. 

Without a word, Kaz nodded as well, sealing their arrangement then walking back and disappearing into the apartment next door.