Danny Lucci, Writer

I met him in a bar. The West Village. It was thick with cigarette smoke. This new song, “I Will Survive,” had just come out and it was playing when I saw him. He smiled. He was older–twenty-seven… but really cute. Really fucking cute. He asked if I wanted to go back to his place. I said yes. We barely made it through the door. Suddenly, his hands were on me. He pressed me into the wall, his grip almost unbreakable. His hands on mine. His lips on mine. It felt intoxicating. Good. Exactly what I went out to find–a new conquest.

Then he started kissing my neck. At first, it was just this slow, deliberate kissing. He was taking his time savoring the moment. Then I felt a sharp pain. Quick. Precise.

I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t.

Right after the pain came something else. Warm. Heavy. Euphoric. It spread through me like I’d just been lit from the inside. My body went loose. Whatever this is… don’t stop. I heard swallowing.

He pulled back just long enough to look at me–like he was checking on something. Then he led me to the bedroom like nothing had happened. Like this was just part of it.

And I let him.

We did what I came over to do, but everything felt… different. Sharper. Deeper. Like every nerve in my body had been turned up to eleven. Then, he went for my neck again.

The euphoria came back–but stronger this time. Too strong. It started feeling wrong. My body went cold. Heavy. Like something was draining out of me faster than it should. I tried to move, but I couldn’t. What the hell?

That’s when fear finally caught up to the moment.

He didn’t stop until he brought me to the edge of a feeling I couldn’t quite understand. Not sleep, not unconsciousness. A darkness—empty, cold, and void. The world was spinning and I was losing my balance.

Then he pulled back. I felt the absence immediately. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, like it was nothing. And then he laughed. Not a quiet, subtle laugh, no. Loud, satisfied.

He looked at me, his face knowing.

“You’re gonna make a cute vampire,” he said.

I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t even bother to get dressed. I ran home through the West Village in my underwear. Up the stairs. Locked the door behind me like that would somehow stop whatever he did to me. I went straight to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. Two perfectly formed bite marks. Dark. Obvious. Real.

I focused on my reflection. I couldn’t figure out what had happened. I wasn’t sick or hurt. It felt like my soul had shifted and hadn’t settled yet. I didn’t know what was coming. I lay down thinking maybe I could sleep it off.

That’s when it started. At first, it was a heat-deep in my chest. Then it spread. Fast. Too fast. It turned into a burning I’d never felt before. Not surface pain. Not something you could touch. It was inside everything.

I tossed and turned. I couldn’t stay still. I screamed. No one came. The sensation got worse–until it didn’t feel like fire anymore. It felt like everything, every nerve, every muscle, every inch of me lighting up at once. Like my body was breaking itself down and rebuilding it at the same time. I couldn’t even think. I just… endured it. And then–

It just stopped. No fade. No warning. Just… gone. Everything went numb. Still. Quiet. For a second, I thought I had died. I sat up slowly, breathing–but not really breathing. Just… moving air.

I went back to the mirror. The bite marks healed right in front of my eyes. Skin pulling itself together like it had never been broken. No scar. No trace. That’s when I knew. I wasn’t tired anymore. Not even a little. In fact, I felt… awake. Completely. Like I’d never been more alive than in that moment.

Something had changed. And whatever it was, I was about to find out.

#

            I woke up—or whatever passed for that now. The sun was already coming through the window. I didn’t think about it, not at first. Then I felt it. A sharp, searing pain on my arm. I looked down. The sunlight was hitting my skin—and it was burning. Not like sunburn. Not slow. Immediate. Violent. Like it was eating me through. I jerked back, stumbling off of the bed, ripping the curtain shut. The light vanished. I looked at my arm. There was a hole. Blackened at the edges. Raw. I ran to the sink, turned on the water, and poured water over the wound like that’d help. It didn’t. The pain stayed, the damage stayed. For a moment I just stared at it—trying to understand what I was looking at. What I had become.

            Then, slowly—it started to close. Right in front of me. The skin pulled itself back together, the damage fading like it was being undone. Within minutes, there was nothing left. No mark. No scar. Just… normal. I stood there, dripping water into the sink, staring at my own arm. The sun burns. That was the first rule I learned. I went back to the window. Slow this time. I reached out and cracked the curtain just enough to let a sliver of sunlight in. It touched my hand—and I felt it instantly. That same burn. Fast. Hungry. Like it wanted more than just skin. I yanked the curtain shut. Stood there for a second, staring at it. The sun was no longer my friend. In fact—I’d become its enemy. And somehow, deep down, I knew… it would never be safe again.

I ran through the house, closing every curtain. One by one. Until the place was sealed in darkness. That’s when I noticed it. The smell.

It was… different. Not anything I’d ever noticed before. It was strong. Sweet. Almost warm. It called me. I didn’t question it. I followed it. Straight to Paco’s room. The door was cracked. I pushed it open. He was still asleep. For a second, just a second—I stood there. Watching him. Trying to think. Trying to understand what I was feeling. Then something… shifted. Like a switch flipped. Like a force reached inside me and pushed everything else out. I moved before I could stop myself.

I was on him in an instant. He didn’t even have time to react. My teeth found his neck. And then—that feeling again. That rush. It hit me harder than before. Deeper. Consuming. I heard him gasp. Felt him struggle. Hands pushing at me, weak, confused. I knew what I was doing.

And I couldn’t stop.

It was like the world narrowed down to one thing—one need—and nothing else mattered. Time didn’t exist. Nothing did. Until—he stopped moving. That’s when it broke. I pulled back. The room was silent. Too silent. And he was… still. Completely still. I was holding him. And I already knew.

I had drained him. Taken everything. I wanted to feel something. Guilt. Horror. Anything. I wanted to cry. I wanted to tear myself apart for what I’d just done. But before any of that could take hold—something else came over me. Warm. Familiar. It spread through me like life itself had been poured back in. Every part of me lit up. Stronger. Sharper. Alive in a way I’d never felt before.

The hunger was gone. Completely. And that scared me more than anything. Because it felt like what I’d done had been rewarded. I looked down at Paco. And then reality came back. I still had a problem.

I reached for him, bracing myself for the weight—but when I lifted him, it was nothing. Like he didn’t weigh anything at all. That’s when I understood. I am stronger now. Much stronger. I dragged him down to the cellar. Each step felt heavy in a different way. Like the house itself knew. I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. I just acted. It was easier that way. By the time I was done—he was gone. Buried beneath the floor. Hidden. Like none of it ever happened.

I lingered there in the dark for a long time. Waiting to feel something. Anything. But all I felt—

Was full.

The phone rang. Loud. Sharp. It cut through the house like a knife. I moved without thinking—up the stairs, faster than I’d ever moved in my life. The distance barely felt real. It kept ringing.

I stepped into the room. The phone sat there on the table. Paco’s phone. Not mine. Not ours. His. But not anymore. It rang again. And again. Each time louder than the last, like it was demanding something from me.

I reached for it—and stopped. Whoever was on the other end…they were calling for him. For someone who didn’t exist anymore. There was just that sound. Relentless.

I stood there, hovering over the receiver. If I picked it up—I’d have to say something. Be someone. Explain an emotion I didn’t understand myself. The ringing filled the room. Echoed in my head. And I realized—this was the first thing I couldn’t outrun. I just stood there…and let it ring.

I turned—ready to run.

Get out of the house. Get away from what I’d done. Find somewhere—anywhere—else to go.

I didn’t think. I just grabbed the door and threw it open. The sunlight hit me—like a blast. Not warmth. Not light. Force. It slammed into me like it wanted me gone from the world entirely. Pain tore through me, instant and absolute. My skin screamed. My body locked up. I fell backward, hitting the floor hard, scrambling away from the doorway. The light stretched across the threshold, reaching for me like it wasn’t finished. I kicked the door shut. The second it closed, the pain stopped. Just… stopped.

I lay there on the floor, staring at the door, heart racing out of habit more than need. Breathing, even though I didn’t have to. That wasn’t sunlight anymore. That was death. And it was waiting right outside.

© 2026 Danny Lucci, all rights reserved.