Sonetto, well aware she was past curfew, crept along the side of the house and hoisted herself up onto the narrow ledge beneath her bedroom window. She eased the frame open with a quiet creak, wincing at the sound, then slipped inside with practised grace. Her feet hit the floor without a sound. Success.
She closed all of her curtains, so she wouldn't be woken by the morning's sunlight. And barely managed to kick off her shoes before collapsing face-first onto her bed. The cool fabric against her skin was a relief—soothing, like she could melt into the mattress and sleep for days. The exhaustion from earlier hit her all at once, heavy and numbing, pulling her toward unconsciousness like a tide.
But just as her body began to relax, a sudden twitch shot through her leg—sharp and electric, like a jolt of static. It ripped her from the edge of sleep and left her blinking into the darkness, heart pounding.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her calf. A prickling sensation crawled along her arms and back, like something invisible was skittering just beneath her skin.
She squinted into the dark, trying to make out any movement, any shape. Nothing.
Trying to shake the feeling, Sonetto crossed the room and flipped the light switch. Warm light flooded the space, washing away the shadows.
She turned to face the mirror, and there were no marks, no scratches. No sign of anything unusual.
Still uneasy, Sonetto decided to look closer.
She slipped out of her uniform, mainly ber blazer inspecting her arms and shoulders for anything—rashes, scratches, maybe an allergic reaction. But her skin looked clear under the light. Smooth. Unmarked.
The crawling sensation had started to fade, and she exhaled, chalking it up to exhaustion or maybe all the junk food and adrenaline from earlier. Her body had been through a lot. Probably just nerves.
She was halfway to sinking back into bed when something on her uniform caught her eye.
A stain—small, dark red—right on the left shoulder.
At first, it looked like pizza sauce. An easy explanation. But something about the shape of it tugged at her instincts, pulled her closer.
She held the fabric up to the light.
That's when she saw them—two tiny, perfect puncture holes nestled in the centre of the stain.
Her stomach dropped, as the realization hit like a truck.
Heart suddenly pounding, she spun back toward the mirror, took off her under-shirt and held her right arm down, exposing her right shoulder. And there it was.
Two clean punctures. Barely raised, but unmistakable, it was a bite, a vampire bite.
Sonetto's mind went white.
Thoughts scattered in every direction, clashing with each other like shards of broken glass. Panic flooded her chest—fast, cold, and suffocating. She gripped the edge of the dresser, trying to breathe, trying to think, but all she could see were those two small punctures.
Her right arm twitched. Just a small jerk—barely noticeable. But then it happened again. Stronger. "Ahhh.." She groaned, trying to muffle what would have been a scream
And then all at once, her muscles seized. Her body jolted violently, arms and legs flailing in a way that wasn't hers to control. Her vision blurred, and her breath caught in her throat as the seizure overtook her completely.
Sonetto stumbled backward, limbs jerking, and slammed into the edge of her oak-wood desk.
The sharp crack of her skull hitting solid wood echoed in the room.
And then—nothing.
Darkness swallowed her whole.