Damien Vladermer's Arc

Chapter 1 of 13

Damien Vladermer had not fed in eleven days, and the hunger now bent him double on the walkway. He built Vladermer Technologies into a giant, worth more than most small countries. He built the platform that millions used every day. None of it could quiet the thirst clawing at his ribs. Only one person could. A single mortal woman, whose blood alone could cure him. He had searched for months. He had never found her, and the hunger only grew worse. He walked to the park to clear his head. The place stood empty at this hour, all curved white forms and soft glowing lights. Then a scent hit him. It cut through everything. His whole body turned toward it before his mind caught up. Sweet, warm, alive. His fangs ached. He followed the smell across the polished floor, past the glass panels, toward a bench near the plants. A young woman lay on the cold bench, asleep. Long blonde hair spilled over the edge. She wore a thin blue dress and a cardigan too light for the night. He knew her. He had seen her here a hundred times. She grew up in the orphan home nearby, and she never left this park for long. She sold handmade goods on his platform. Her small business was failing, though she did not know he owned the thing keeping her afloat. He had watched her from a distance for months and never spoken a word. Now her scent told him the truth. She was the one. The cure was her. Damien stepped closer. His hand shook. The hunger screamed at him to take her throat and end eleven days of pain. He could do it. She slept. No one would see. He leaned down, close enough to feel her breath, and stopped. Her eyelids fluttered. She woke. Sky-blue eyes found his face. She did not scream. She only stared, half asleep, confused. "Are you real?" she asked. Her voice cracked from cold. "Or am I still dreaming?" He should have lied. He should have vanished. Instead he stayed frozen, inches from the answer to his thirst. "You shouldn't be out here," he said. "It's too cold." She sat up slowly and pulled the cardigan tight. "I sell things. Online. It wasn't enough for rent this month." She gave a small, tired laugh. "So the bench it is." Damien straightened. The hunger still burned, but a new understanding cut through it. He did not want her blood taken by force in the dark. He wanted her to choose him. He wanted her heart, and that could not be seized from a sleeping stranger. He held out his hand. "I'm Damien. Let me buy you something warm." She looked at his hand a long moment. Then she took it. Her fingers closed around his, and the thirst turned into something far harder to control. Not just hunger now. Want.