The mark was still there.
Isla saw it, every time she looked down at her wrist. A crescent rose. Delicate. Burning.
She stared at it in the bathroom mirror, her toothbrush hanging forgotten in her hand. Light streamed in through the frosted window,as if the sun was trying to pretend nothing strange had happened the night before.
But Isla knew better.
She could still feel it. That cold, heavy silence. That touch.
She didn't know his name, but his face had been etched into her mind, silver eyes that seemed older than the stars, a voice that cracked something open inside her. The way he'd looked at her. Like he already knew her.
Like he had always known her.
And that hum low, vibrating through the earth. It had vanished the moment he did. But her chest still carried the echo of it, like a warning bell that wouldn't stop ringing.
She rubbed the mark hard with a towel but nothing happen.
It didn't hurt. It didn't feel like a wound. It felt like something had claimed her.
Her phone buzzed.
It was her friend (Maya).
Maya: Girl, are you alive or what?
We're meeting at Clyde's for coffee. You're coming!
That's not a question. I'm outside.
Isla blinked.
What time is it?
She looked at her phone, it is 11:03 a.m.
She had been standing in the bathroom for over an hour.
Isla glance at the mark for the last time, she hurriedly hang her hoodie sleeve over it and hurried downstairs. Her boots were still wet with dew from the night before, and her coat reeked of cold air and old leaves. But she ignored it.
The moment she stepped outside, the world felt… normal again.
Birds chirped in the distance. Leaves rustled in the breeze. The blood moon was gone, and the sky had returned to its usual soft gray.
But the forest behind her house looked different now. More alive.
Her best friend sat behind the wheel of her red Jeep, hair pulled into a messy bun, oversized sunglasses.
"Are you serious right now?" Maya called as Isla climbed in. "I've been waiting for fifteen minutes."
Maya then looked at her and said. "Wait. Are you okay? You look like you haven't slept in a week."
"I haven't," Isla admitted, leaning back into the seat. "Something… weird happened last night."
"Define weird. Like, dream-weird or I saw a demon in the woods and now I'm cursed-weird?"
Isla hesitated.
Normally, she could laugh off Maya's dramatic exaggerations. But today, the words hit a little too close to home.
"Actually," Isla said slowly, "more like... vampire, weird."
"am dead serious," Isla said. "There was a guy. In the woods. During the blood moon."
Isla pulled back her sleeve and held out her wrist.
"What the hell is that?" Maya asked.
"I don't know," Isla whispered. "It wasn't there yesterday. He… touched me. And it burned. Then this appeared."
Maya stared at her for a long moment, then whispered to her.
"You need caffeine. And a priest. Possibly both."
They drove in silence, the usual chatter between them missing. Isla stared out the window, her mind racing.
Was she going crazy?
Was this some elaborate hallucination her brain cooked up after too many nights of insomnia and late-night horror movies?
But it felt real.
The way the air had shifted. The heat of his hand. The connection between them and the way he says her name.
Clyde's was half full when they arrived, mostly locals, bundled in flannel and sipping coffee like it was sacred. Isla slid into their usual corner booth while Maya went to order.
She stared out the window at the busy street.
And then she saw him.
Across the road. In the shadows between a bookstore and an old pharmacy.
He stood completely still. Same black coat. Same silver eyes. Watching her from across.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She blinked. He was gone.
Maya returned a moment later, with two plastic cups in her hand. "Okay, talk. What exactly happened last night?"
Isla tried to explain, and she said the hum, the stone arch, the man in black, the mark.
When she finished, Maya leaned back, eyes wide.
"Okay," she said finally. "That's either the hottest nightmare I've ever heard or you're the main character in some gothic fanfic come to life."
"I'm serious."
"I know you are. That's what makes it terrifying."
Isla exhaled slowly, hands trembling around her cup.
"I don't know what's happening to me."
Maya reached across the table, grabbing her hand.
"We'll figure it out. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out. Together."
Isla nodded.
But something inside her whispered that it was already too late. That she had already been claimed.
Later that night, after Maya dropped her off, Isla stood in front of the mirror again.
The mark glowed faintly in the dark, like it was pulsing with something ancient. Alive.
She lifted her fingers to touch it. The moment she did, her reflection flickered.
And then, she wasn't alone.
Behind her in the mirror stood the man from the woods.
His hand brushed her shoulder, though she felt nothing.
But she heard his voice — soft, almost sorrowful.
"Soon, you'll remember. Everything."
The mirror cracked down the middle.
And Isla screamed.