Reily, Chole and Mia

The October night hung heavy, the air thick with the musky scent of damp earth and the faint, sugary tease of roasted chestnuts drifting from town. The old mansion crouched at the edge of civilisation, its jagged spires clawing at the twilight sky, bathed in the bruised hues of dusk. A neon sign sputtered at the entrance—Dracula’s Haunted Hollow – Enter If You Dare—its buzz a heartbeat against the stillness. The rumors had swirled through campus like wildfire: vanishings, flickering lights, a thrill worth the risk. Riley, Mia, and Chloe, a trio bound by friendship and restless curiosity, approached the sagging porch, their laughter masking the shiver of unease.

Riley strode ahead, a vision of defiance in her cropped leather jacket, the material molding to her taut shoulders and the curve of her spine. Her ripped jeans hugged her hips and thighs, fraying at the edges where her boots—black, scuffed, unapologetic—met the gravel with a predatory thud. Her dark hair cascaded in loose waves, catching the moonlight as she tossed it back with a flick of her wrist. “Move it, scaredy-cats,” she taunted, her voice a smoky challenge, lips curling into a smirk that dared the world to test her. “It’s just some dude in a bad wig with a smoke machine. You gonna chicken out?”

Mia lingered a step behind, her oversized sweater a soft cocoon around her slender frame. The wool sagged over her hands, her fingers twisting the cuffs as her glasses slipped down her nose, framing wide, nervous eyes. “Riley, I’m serious,” she whispered, her breath catching as she glanced at the mansion’s warped windows, reflecting nothing but shadow. “That article said three people disappeared last year. What if it’s… real?”

Riley’s laugh was sharp, cutting through the tension. “You’re such a geek. It’s a haunted house, not a crime scene.”

Chloe bounced beside them, her blonde ponytail a golden whip against her shoulders. Her pink sneakers squeaked with each eager step, her crop top riding up to expose a tantalizing strip of sun-kissed skin above her leggings. Her lips, glossed and parted, curved into a giddy smile. “Oh my God, it’s gonna be epic!” she chirped, clapping her hands, the sound bright against the gloom. “I bet there’s fake blood everywhere—and a sexy vampire to bite me! I’m so ready!” She giggled, oblivious to Mia’s quiet dread.

The front door creaked open on its own, exhaling a chill that curled around their ankles. The foyer glowed faintly, candelabras dripping wax in slow, sensual tears onto the floor, casting shadows that writhed like lovers in the dimness. Then he emerged—Lord Viktor, a figure carved from night itself. His skin was alabaster, luminous under the flickering light, stretched taut over sharp cheekbones and a jawline that begged to be traced. His hair, black as sin, swept back in silken strands, framing eyes of molten amber that smoldered with unspoken promises. A velvet cape flowed from his shoulders, brushing the floor with a whisper, and his lips—full, crimson—parted in a smile that was both invitation and threat. “Welcome, my darlings,” he purred, his voice a velvet ribbon sliding over bare skin, coiling tight. “I am Viktor, your guide. Step inside, and let the night devour you.”

Chloe fanned herself, a breathy giggle escaping. “Hot vampire alert! I knew it!”

Mia shrank into her sweater, but Riley squared her shoulders, her smirk unwavering. “Alright, Count Kink, show us your spooky shit.”

Viktor’s smile deepened, a predator savoring the chase. He led them down a hallway, the walls pulsing faintly, as if alive with a heartbeat they couldn’t hear. The air thickened, heavy with the scent of musk and iron, and under Viktor’s ancient power, space twisted—corridors stretching into infinity, time dripping like honey. The girls didn’t notice, their senses dulled by the enchantment weaving around them.

He paused at a grand staircase, his cape swirling as he turned. “A true experience requires… surrender,” he said, his gaze locking onto Riley’s defiant stance. “You, bold one. You’ll be first.”

Riley cocked a hip, her smirk a blade. “What, you gonna jump me with a glowstick and a cape? Do your worst.”

Viktor’s laugh was a low, resonant growl that vibrated through her core, stirring something unbidden. He stepped closer, and the air shimmered—a ripple of distortion—and suddenly Mia and Chloe stood alone in the foyer, blinking in confusion. Riley was gone, plucked into a pocket of Viktor’s making: a chamber draped in crimson velvet, the air thick with heat and the faint perfume of decayed roses. Time stretched thin, each breath a languid eternity.

Riley spun, her boots scuffing the plush floor. “What the fuck—” The room pulsed, drapes swaying as if caressed by unseen hands, shadows licking at her legs. Viktor loomed behind her, his presence a tidal wave of cool silk and raw power. “Okay, creep, neat trick. Now what?”

“No trick,” he murmured, circling her, his cape grazing her thighs with a feather-light touch that sent a jolt up her spine. “Only pleasure.” His eyes blazed, amber deepening to molten gold, and a wave of heat crashed over her—his charm sinking into her flesh, her blood, her soul. It was a slow invasion, liquid and relentless, pooling in her chest, her hips, her core. Her knees buckled, and she caught herself on a velvet chaise, the fabric soft and sinful against her palms. Her jacket clung to her, too tight, too hot, her breath hitching as her nipples hardened beneath her shirt.

“Back… off,” she snarled, but her voice faltered, thick with a need she couldn’t name. His fingers brushed her arm, cool and electric, trailing up to her shoulder with a deliberate slowness that made her skin prickle. She should’ve swung at him, screamed, but her body betrayed her—head tilting back, offering the smooth expanse of her neck as if drawn by invisible threads. His scent enveloped her—dark spice, iron, the faintest hint of her own sweat—and her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping.

Viktor leaned in, his breath a cold whisper against her pulse, raising goosebumps that tingled with anticipation. “So fierce,” he purred, his lips brushing her skin, teasing the sensitive hollow below her ear. “Yet so ripe for me.” His fangs sank in, sharp and exquisite, piercing her flesh with a sting that bloomed into ecstasy. Riley’s gasp broke into a moan, her body arching as he drank—slow, deliberate pulls that tugged at her veins, each suck a pulse of fire between her thighs. His tongue flicked against the wound, hot and wet, coaxing more blood, more pleasure, until her hands clawed at his shoulders, nails sinking into velvet as her hips rocked instinctively.

The bite rewrote her. Heat surged, a molten tide flooding her senses—her breasts ached, heavy and sensitive, her skin flushed and fevered. Her thighs pressed together, slick with a sudden, **** want, and when he pulled back, his lips glistening with her blood, Riley’s eyes fluttered open—dark, wild, dilated with lust. Her breath came in shuddering pants, her tongue darting out to taste the copper on her lips, her smirk returning with a feral edge. Her jacket felt like a cage, her jeans a torment against her swollen, needy flesh.

“What… did you do to me?” she rasped, her voice a sultry growl, dripping with hunger. She shifted, thighs rubbing together, a low whimper escaping as the friction sparked through her. Her hands roamed—over her chest, brushing her peaked nipples, then lower, pressing against her stomach as if to quench the fire igniting there.

Viktor licked her blood from his lips, a slow, deliberate swipe that made her pulse throb anew. “I’ve claimed you, my sweet,” he said, his voice a dark promise. “The first of my coven. Your body craves now—craves me, craves them.” He stepped closer, his hand cupping her jaw, thumb tracing her lower lip, and she nipped at it, a hungry little bite that drew a chuckle from him.

Riley’s laugh was throaty, decadent, her resistance incinerated by the venom coursing through her. She pressed against him, hips swaying, the leather creaking as her body sang with need. “Bring them,” she purred, her gaze raking over his mouth, his throat, imagining her teeth there, her tongue. “I want to taste them too.”

Viktor’s eyes flared with triumph, and with a snap of his fingers, time snapped back. Riley stood at his side, transformed—her skin glowing faintly, her movements liquid with predatory grace, her hunger a living, breathing thing eager to consume Mia and Chloe next.