#i will ponder ... while the length of my sleep time slowly deteriorates......

[naenaex0xx]

let me sleeb pls 😔

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [13]

Masterlist

~^*^~

Your eyes fluttered open. The amber sun beat down on your face through the cracks in the curtains. Your phone buzzed excitedly on your bedside table. With a groan, you reached out, missing once but grasping it firmly the second time. Eyes a little blurred, you answered.

“Hullo?” You asked groggily.

“Good morning, Princess, did you sleep well?” Dracula’s voice rang through.

“Very.” You hummed.

“Good... I’ll be back in a couple of days. Behave yourself and I might just be tempted to show you a little gratitude for it...”

“I have no idea what that means but you have fully intrigued me.”

“Ahh, now you have just a fraction of an idea on how I feel about you.” A smile broke out onto your face at his words.

“The most romantic thing anyone has every said to me and it’s from a vampire.” You playfully mused, rolling your eyes.

“So that is where we are,” he pondered, “a budding romance?”

“Ah, well, no, I didn’t mean it like that-“

“I think I like that very much.”

Your smile softened. And then your phone began to vibrate once more. Zoe was trying to call you. Your heart faltered. You hadn’t heard from her in so long. Worry had begun to settle in your gut, but here she was calling you.

“Drac, I’ll have to call you back.” He tried to protest, however you cut him off and answered Zoe, “Zoe? Is everything alright?”

“[First].” She spoke slowly, voice weak and having lost its character.

“Zoe...?”

“You need to come to London...”

“What’s going on? Why? Why do I need to come to London?”

“I’m in the hospital...” she told you slowly. She kept gasping quietly for breath, “my health... deteriorated... I was moved to Westmoreland Street hospital... the oncology ward... bring all your files and come...”

“What about Jack...?”

“He arrived yesterday... his friend, Lucy... is about to die...”

Your heart swelled with guilt. You had caused that.

But could you go back to London? Could you return to the place that you had once fled? Where every street had its memory - most more than painful - and every place that you had ever been there tainted with heartache. Zoe had beckoned you to join her in what you suspected were her final days but you didn’t know if you could. Over the last two years, she had become a stand-in mother figure while you were so far away from your own. She was your mentor, and your inspiration. How could you go and watch her die? How could you go and relive all that heartbreak only to create more?

~^*^~

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the city rise up from the horizon. Already, you missed Whitby. You missed the screech of the seagulls, the constant whisper of the waves, the groan of the boats coming up and down the harbour.

A good 20 minutes later and you were hauling yourself and your bags off of the coach, wishing that you weren’t here. The familiar and unforgettable scent of London filled your lungs and you almost burst into tears right there. But you didn’t. You simply pulled up the handle on your suitcase, held your canvas bag tightly and began to walk. The coach had stopped opposite Regents Park station, and you knew it wasn’t too much of a walk to the hospital. It was a short journey. Soon you were navigating through the winding halls, trying to decipher where on Earth the oncology ward was. After asking several nurses, you found yourself outside of her door.

‘072 A

Zoe Van Helsing’

You wanted to cry for her. Your fist rapped on the door and you entered. She was lying back, head elevated slightly with cushions. Her once glowing skin was pale and opaque, matted with deep bags under the eyes. Her lips had pastelled and cracked up. She didn’t look great.

“Hi, Zoe.” You greeted softly.

“[First], you came.” She didn’t push back the tired smile, but her voice gave away her exhaustion.

“Of course I did.” You set the bags down, walking towards her side. Closer up, she looked even worse.

“Jack... asked about you...” she told you, “his friend... Dracula has been drinking her,” she stopped, just for a moment to weakly cough, “blood.”

“I...”

“She was an old friend of yours... wasn’t she...? You must be upset.”

“...not really... our friendship ended on bad terms.”

“I...” her eyes looked past you, as if she was looking at another person. You turned your head, seeing no one, “see...”

“What? What is it?” You asked her softly.

It was probably the high dosages of medicine making her hallucinate. It was the only explanation. You sighed.

Her eyes fluttered a few times before slowly closing. She was clearly exhausted. Whispering your goodbyes, you left the room and plucked up your bags. Just as you were turning to leave, very familiar male.

“Hey!” You called. He turned to look at you and then began to walk a little faster, “stop!” You called. Reluctantly, he turned and gave you a nervous smile, “Renfield, right?”

“Sorry, Miss [Last], I didn’t realise it was you.”

Yes you did, you slimeball you thought

“That’s okay!” You smiled sweetly, “can you do me a huge favour?”

~^*^~

Renfield shuffled a little away from you as you turned your head up to smile at him. It was obviously fake and very much forced. He gulped. You wanted to laugh. You had seriously unnerved him but you didn’t care.

He began to panic in his own head beside you. The lift pulled you up to the penthouse suite. Dracula had given stern orders that no one was to visit, except for... well, she wasn’t an issue anymore, she was dying. But Dracula had only mentioned this sweet [First] [Last] as his “lady in the North”. He often neglected Renfield’s plans to visit you for a few days. However, the lawyer couldn’t see what he saw in you. He rubbed at the scar on his neck.

When the doors opened, he stepped out and you happily trailed behind him. His shoes clicked on the floor until he came to the wooden door.

“Stay here for a moment.” He commanded, voice growing with nerves.

He carefully opened the door so that you wouldn’t be able to see inside and slipped away. Dracula sat at the head of the table, reading on his kindle. He had grown very close with it, having realised just how many books the tiny slab of plastic contained.

“Count Dracula...” Renfield began.

“Why do you sound so guilty, Renfield?” Dracula apple, not looking up from the page he was reading. He was playing with his fingers with his free hand.

“There is a lady here to see you...”

“Ah,” Dracula looked up, “so soon? I knew she was a lively one... though I did expect her to be trapped in her physical body... perhaps she was much stronger than I anticipated.”

“N-no, Count Dracula-“

“Enough. You can go and sort your work out. I’ll entertain our guest.”

Renfield retreated immediately. He knew Dracula had grown fond of you but he didn’t know if he would be angry that you had found him where he occasionally had the other lady around for... activities.

Dracula’s pace was slow. He knew that on the other side of the door, he was heard. He was prowling, testing the impatience of the person waiting for him. He was teasing.

His fingers reached out. He grasped the handle. He pulled.

“Just the very person I was expecting, much sooner than I expected thou-...” his voice cut and trailed off. His eyes locked with yours. He was genuinely shocked to see you standing before him, smiling. You let a small giggle pass your lips and had he had a beating heart, he knew it would have skipped a beat at the sound, “[First]?” He managed to ask through his question.

“Who else were you expecting?”

You already knew the answer, and the pain in knowing that she was openly welcome to this place radiated through your chest. But the reminder that she was dying due to becoming acquainted with him, whilst you still bloomed with life gave you some peace on the matter.

“My goodness this is a shock.” He breathed.

“Not to quote a close undead acquaintance of mine, but will you invite me in?”

He breathed a laugh. He could sense that you were angry at him, but you still joked around with him. You were smiling through the pain. Goodness, how he admired that on you.

“No.” He deadpanned, “I’m demanding your entry.” The wicked smile appeared on his face and you pushed back a laugh.

You made your way in, admiring the darkness of the room. A long table ran the length of the room and a tall, slender window was covered to conceal the sunlight. There were purple and cyan lights and it was very pretty.

You wondered where Renfield had disappeared to. There were a few doors and you wondered where they lead.

Dracula’s hands slipped over your own for a moment and the contact sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. He lifted the suitcase and the bag from your grip and moved them, setting them down by the door. You watched him move around. He seemed very much at home here, but after two months, you supposed he would in a place he could fully call his own. He fit in very nicely in the sophistication of it all.

“When did you get here?” He inquired.

“A few hours ago. I took a coach.”

“You took a coach? That must’ve taken so long.”

“Six hours. And then I went to visit somebody...” you didn’t want to say who.

You knew that over the time Dracula had been coming back to visit you, he had also been having secret meetings with Zoe. She had never told you this. You had found out yourself during your absence when Jack directed you to her office to find some paperwork he needed. You had found the diary entries, dates and all, documenting her meetings with him. He had been the one to diagnose her cancer (her blood had been poison to him - which both horrified and intrigued you), she had drunk the rest of the sample of his blood that she didn’t send off for testing, and they had been meeting secretly for months.

Count Dracula had proved himself to be somewhat of a playboy, managing three maidens all at once.

You scoffed.

“What?” Dracula, who had sunken down into the chair nearest to you, looked up at you.

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

“You must be tired, I suppose. Do you want to lie down for a while?”

You simply hummed and nodded. He stood once more, gently taking your hand and leading you towards one of the doors. He paused.

“Renfield!” He bellowed, “fetch some food for our guest! And make it nice!”

You stifled another laugh as he pushed open the door and pulled you through. The next room was similarly as dark and featured a beautiful black four poster bed, with black satin canopies. The bedding was silk, and glistened. Pushed against the wall you had just entered through, to the left was a matching black wardrobe and on the opposite side of the room beside the window was a matching tall chest of drawers.

You audibly gasped at the sight. Dracula smirked at your reaction. But then the memories of what had happened here filled his head.

Did he feel guilty...?

“Impressed?”

“Very much, Christian Gray.” You joked.

“[First],” he warned lowly, turning to face you, “never ever quote that book again.” He turned away from you, “at least I know what BDSM is now.”

“You actually read Fifty Shades...”

Oh, how badly you wanted to laugh at the thought of a well-mannered and charming gentleman reading such a book.

“It was recommended to me.” He stated plainly.

“Believe me, Drac, that book doesn’t even scratch the surface of BDSM.”

You pulled your hand out of his and he turned his head so quickly you would be surprised if he didn’t end up with whiplash. He eyed you. You bit your lip in order to prevent the laughs. And then he did the most unexpected thing. He trapped you in his arms, bringing you close as they slithered around your waist. You were pulled into him, the mere feeling of him holding you knocking the breath from your lungs. He lowered his head, connecting his forehead with yours.

“I suggest you stop right there, darling.” He whispered.

“I’m tempted to carry on now.” Your eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Yes, carry on, see where it lands you.”

Your eyes flickered to the bed and back to him. Both of you seemed to have the same thought and you began to laugh. Hard. The ridiculousness of it. Part of you was tempted to bring up a certain movie scene where a mating between a vampire and a human lead to an utterly destroyed bedroom, but you opted against it.

You planted your forehead on his chest as you laughed into him. The sweet sounds that came from you vibrated through him and he found himself holding onto you just a little tighter. He threw his head back, inhaling deeply. Slowly but surely, the room was being taken hostage by your scent.

When your laughter had died down a little, Dracula released you and you stepped back to look at him. Your eyes truly did sparkle in every light, didn’t they? Was it simply the life flowing through your veins? Or were you truly just that special?

He announced to you that he’d leave you alone to rest and your eyes lingered on the door after he gently shut it. Sighing, you turned and decided to have a little root around the room. You began at the wardrobe, opening the doors to reveal many freshly ironed suits, crisp shirts, some sweats and other items of clothing hung up neatly and colour-coded. You scoffed. Trust Dracula to have a colour-coded wardrobe. Then again, being awake 24/7 must end up proving to be extremely boring.

The next place you looked was in the chest of drawers. Everything was seemingly normal, until you found yourself opening the bottom drawer.

Women’s clothes?

You tugged a t-shirt out you gasped at the shirt beneath it. It was so recognisable. The eyeliner stain was still there.

~^*^~

You laughed as Lucy began to swipe eyeshadow all the way out towards your temple. Clearly she had gotten bored with doing a nice job with your makeup and wanted to start clowning around a little. She swapped out the eyeshadow after a moment with her brightest liquid lip and began to paint it on your cheeks, and your laughing caused her to lose the grip.

The applicator fell, not without leaving a vibrant mark on your white pyjamas.

“Lucy!” You whined.

She was too busy laughing at your despair to help. So, you did the only thing a teenage girl could think of doing. You grasped her liquid eyeliner, ripping open the lid and began to draw lines up and down her arms.

She began to laugh harder with the sensation and then, you began to swirl a dark mark into her pyjamas. She only laughed, and you couldn’t help but join her once more.

~^*^~

You dropped the t-shirt immediately and pushed yourself back. Due to the fact that you were crouching, you toppled backwards and landed on your backside. You drew in a breath and waited for Dracula to come in and find you snooping. He’d make a stupid remark at you being so nosy and would most likely forget about it sooner or later. But he never came. Instead, there was silence.

Not wanting to look inside of the drawer anymore, you kicked it shut and flopped onto your back.

So she had been here? She had been in his bedroom? She had been so often that she needed to leave clothes? So she had been staying the night... how many nights? You couldn’t help but think about what they did during that time.

Dread filled you as you pondered on it longer and longer.

Why hadn’t Dracula ever invited you down to London if he had such a beautiful home here? Did he wish to conceal his close relations with Lucy so badly from you? It must’ve been her he was expecting. You wondered how disappointed he must’ve been when he opened the door and realised that it was you and not her.

You couldn’t stay here. You had been awake since 5am, and had been on a coach since 6am. You needed your sleep. It was only 2pm. A few hours wouldn’t hurt, as long as you left before the sun went down. If you planned it correctly, you could even get the same coach back to Whitby.

Pulling yourself up, you made yourself to the bed. When you sunk down, you were surprised to find that the mattress was memory foam. The sheets were slippery beneath you. You didn’t like them much, if truth be told. Maybe Lucy had picked them out...

Instead of thinking about it anymore, you shut your eyes and regulated your breathing. There was no point on dwelling on it. She was as good as dead.

When your eyes fluttered open, the room was pitch black. From outside of the room, you could hear the soft hum of music. What time was it? You pulled yourself up and your legs were wobbly with having just woken up. You pushed past it and made your way out of the room. A soft light hit you and at the sound of the door opening, Dracula turned to look at you.

He had a glass before him, it was half full. He ignored it, however and strolled towards you.

“Did you sleep well, darling?”

“Is that what you asked her every time she stayed over?”

You were too tired to process your slightly bitchy attitude. He cocked an eyebrow. Then he sighed.

“She didn’t stay as often as you are imagining.”

“But she’s stayed more than I have.”

“Trust me, I’ve spent more time with you.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You asked sharply.

“Would you prefer my honesty or will you flee in anger again?” He was treating you like a ticking time bomb. Good.

“Just tell me. I need to know.”

You did. You needed to know how she had won him over. How she had won another person against you. Whatever she did, she was too good at it. If this tiny piece of closure would help you heal, then god damn it, you needed it.

“Fine...” he took a step towards you warily, “only... when I drank her blood... and only here. Every other time I drank her, we were in less intimate places...”

“How many times...?” You could barely speak louder than a whisper. Your heart was pounding with what you could only describe as jealousy. But why on Earth were you jealous?

“Three times.”

Your bottom lip trembled.

Why did you decide it was a good idea to inquire about such things? Why did it hurt so much? When had you grown so attached to him?

“... why not me...?”

“Why not you?” He repeated, “darling, because I have more respect for you than that. And should our blossoming romance progress, I’d rather not drink your blood. Not again. It is much too valuable.”

You turned away from him. If he saw the tears in your eyes, he’d pin you as weak. You weren’t weak. You were devastated that Lucy had wormed her way in between you and another person. Maybe you shouldn’t have come here.

“I’m gonna go, Drac.” You whispered.

“You’re leaving so soon?”

“Yes, I haven’t been to see my parents and-“ you lied, voice shaking, “I should go and see them.”

“At three in the morning?”

It was 3am?

“...yes...?” You lied once more but you sounded more unsure of yourself than ever.

“I suppose I cannot convince you otherwise. However, I am indebted to you. May you allow me to pay you back?”

“You aren’t in debt to me-“

“That’s where you are wrong. Indeed I am. I left a very beautiful lady alone at a ball after only one dance. Will you indulge me in just one more?”

He extended his arm to you and you looked at him in disbelief. Did he have to do this now? You didn’t want to think of the consequences if you didn’t; besides, you couldn’t leave now that it was dark, he’d follow you.

“Only one.”

“Thank you. Sincerely, thank you.” He smiled softly at you, “and instead of waltzing you around, we shall dance a little closer to how your generation does it.”

What?

“Hold up, if you think for one second I’m gonna grind up on you, you are wrong-“

“I’m not going to ask how you came to that conclusion. Now take my hand, darling.”

He truly was mesmerising when he wanted to be. You were a moth and he was the burning light. He drew you in even if you knew he was dangerous. Even if he would kill you, something inside of you screamed to get closer and closer evermore to him. You took a few steps forwards and took his hand.

Gently, he pulled you into him and wrapped his free arm around your waist. Your other arm came to rest on his shoulder and he pulled you just a little closer.

‘My lover’s got humour, she’s the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody’s disproval, I should’ve worshipped her sooner’

You scoffed quietly at the song choice. Slowly, he swayed your bodies, relishing in the feeling of you. Again, he could hear your pulse. Dear lord, he was begging whatever force there was to keep you this close. He had never in his 500 years imagined to meet somebody like you.

He could stay like this with you forever and he would be content. Absolutely, utterly content.

“Take Me to Church?” You whispered questioningly, “I thought you shunned anything holy.”

He chuckled.

‘The only heaven I’ll be sent to, is when I’m alone with you, I was born sick but I love it’

“I suppose this is an expection.” He whispered back.

He slightly tightened his grip, wishing to feel the beat of your heart against his chest. You sighed a little at the closeness. You shut your eyes and disconnected your hand from his, and instead wrapped it around his neck. His now free arm worked it’s way around your waist.

“Why?”

‘I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death, good god let me give you my life’

He pulled you ever tighter, inhaling your scent. You buried your face into the crook of his neck. Here, his aftershave was strongest. You liked the smell of it. The feeling of your youth, of your life made Dracula feel more alive than he ever could devouring other humans. The rush of adrenaline he got with that was nothing to the way he felt holding you like this.

God, what was happening to him?

“Because it reminds me of you.” He whispered into your ear, pressing a tender kiss to your head.

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026 @greeniemoon @blueinkblot @tefymorgan @misfitgirlwrites @lokiphan @newheart97 @middlespellman @bratty-sweetheart @dipsylou @lilmou5ie @the-fangirl-life10 @enchantersnight @imthedoctorlove @haleyea @hoefordarkness

[robbyrobinson]

Tales from Cherryshrub, Mississippi: Kidnapped By A Demon

In the early 2000s, a man collapsed in front of a police station. He was completely naked and possessed a skeletal frame. Bystanders saw this action transpire, but they continued their stroll out of the assumption he was merely a drug addict who had become dependent on whatever substance he was taking. The chief of police came to the station not too long after the man fainted. Without much delay, he sends for some of his men to collect the man and bring him inside.

The man awoke in the interrogation room with a warm, wool blanket around him. His eyes were sunken in most likely from weeks of insomnia. He shakily had a cup of coffee in his hands: every instant he went to take a swig of the beverage, he spasmed in his chair, spilling the hot liquid on the floor. He looked behind his back constantly during the interview. He brought his cup down on the table and cupped his face hiding his shame.

"Sir, I'd like to introduce myself," the interrogator began, "My name is Officer Mackenzie, and I would like to ask you a few questions."

The man shook his head violently. "No! No! I can't!"

"Sir, we found you naked within arm's length of the station. We want to know what happened."

"I can't! He'll know where I'm at!"

Officer Mackenzie took a deep draw of his cigar and breathed out a ring of smoke. He waited a bit for the interviewee to recuperate. He set his timer to sixty minutes. During those minutes, he talked pleasurably with the man on unrelated topics to make the interviewee more comfortable in hopes of making him more lenient on elaborating what brought him there. The man breathed in slowly and took a final look behind his back before answering.

"Are you able to tell me what incidents brought you to our station?" Mackenzie asked.

"Yes," he said, "it may sound crazy, though."

Officer Mackenzie leaned backward in his chair, motioning for the man to continue. The interviewee's hands started to shake again, but he was able to choke out a mumbled line of words. "Have you...ever heard of the Popobawa?"

Officer Mackenzie stared at the man and then at his fellow officers. "No. I haven't."

The man sighed in relief. "You don't know? That's good."

"What does this...Pippy-Ba-Ra have to do with you?"

"That thing," the man drew out the last word, "is not of this Earth." He rubbed his eyes that were laced with eyebags. "He is some monster from this country I never heard of Zanzibar."

"Zanzibar?" Officer Mackenzie reiterated. "We live just north of Cherryshrub, Mississippi, son."

"My co-worker told me about the legend," the interviewee clarified, "I didn't believe it at first. Some bat thing from Hell who...well you know."

The interviewee was laughing nervously at the last note of his dialogue. Ugly tears began to fill his eyes as he deteriorated back into a sniveling wreck. "But I was wrong to encourage him like that. With my disbelief."

"What happened, son?"

"He...he appeared to me as a black cat that I pass on the way to work. That didn't intimidate me much. But each time I took the long drive home, I could've sworn I've felt a... dark presence watching my every movement. At night, as I laid in my bed, that same feeling of being watched arose in me. I saw a dark figure with a flaming eye glare at me from my closet. First, it was just a wing. Then another wing. His feet appeared immediately afterward. For an entire week, this thing stalked me, robbing me of my sleep. I held the covers firmly over my face by the time I saw his terrible, hideous eye. He spoke out to me in a voice only I could hear. That mocking, giddy voice continues to haunt me."

Officer Mackenzie raised an eyebrow. "So, this...creature from a country you never heard of kept you up at night and whispered to you?" Officer Mackenzie smashed the end of his cigarette butt onto the ashtray. "I understand being petrified by an urban legend, but what are we supposed to do about it?"

The interviewee shook his head defiantly. "No, you don't understand!" His shaking returned more violent and unprovoked than earlier. "He snatched me away in the night and took me into his world! He put his disgusting body on top of me and pressed down against me. My ribcages hurt so much, I thought he would crush them! He whispered horrible things to me and kept me as his prisoner for two months!" He broke down and banged his hands on the table. "He took me back home, and he made me do…horrid things to my wife and daughter. Amelia, baby, please forgive your foolish father!"

Without warning, he gripped his arms and brought his forehead down onto the table. He bashed his head once, twice, three times. Office Mackenzie watched the display with disturbance and ordered some of his fellow officers to restrain the man from bashing his head further. His forehead split open causing blood to trickle down. The ambulance was alerted to the situation an hour later, and they wheeled the man away in a gurney.

That night, Officer Mackenzie found himself further disturbed by what the interviewee had disclosed to him. Popobawa? Zanzibar? Mind control? He was barely able to comprehend anything that he was informed. In the middle of the night, he decided to conduct some research into this strange monster. A few hours on the internet proved fruitful. He was what the natives of Zanzibar referred to as a shetani or an evil spirit. From the looks of it, he was giving the populace quite the scare. Mass hysteria erupted in his wake; some were even killed under the false notion of them being the Popobawa. He thought back to the interviewee and how his lower regions were bleeding (contributing to him collapsing from what seemed at the time to be blood loss.

The Popobawa's origins were…sketchy at best. Some cite him being conjured by a sheik who was angered with his neighbors but as with any curse, it backfired tremendously. It had a perverted love for the most deplorable of the cardinal sins and in each of the cases, it broke into people's homes and violated them, or possessed family members into committing the crimes before leaving them to psychologically deteriorate from the realization behind their actions. That called to mind something that the interviewee had mentioned about the creature making him do indescribable things to his wife and daughter. Mackenzie couldn't help but cringe at the thought.

"So, what he apparently hates the most is when people vehemently deny his existence?" he pondered. He shrugged his shoulders before yawning. Whatever the case, he had spent too much time online researching something that very well sounded ridiculous.

Life continued normally for Officer Mackenzie. He oversaw the training of new officers and wrote and filed reports on the occasional changes the police department mandated. In July 2001, Officer Mackenzie was reviewing the latest police report, one of his lieutenants ran in.

"Sir, you may want to see this."

Without delay, Officer Mackenzie followed suit of his lieutenant to an apartment building. The road was blocked off by the ambulance. Yellow crime scene paper aligned the scene of the crime. From what the witnesses could describe, a man jumped off the second floor through one of the windows and collided on the roof of a car. Not much of his body survived the impact. Prior to his death, he complained of being stalked by some bat-winged monster who he blamed for his crimes of sexual abuse on his family. Even without a body, Officer Mackenzie didn't have difficulty with the identity of the man.

Officer Mackenzie excused himself from the crime scene, deciding to take a stroll. Along the way, Mackenzie walked past an alleyway. Before turning around the next corner, he heard a small rustle in the dumpster. Curious, he walked into the abandoned alleyway. He readied his gun under the belief that an assailant was making that noise. A cat's head popped up from the slashed garbage bags with a tilt suggesting curiosity.

"Wait, that's a black cat," Officer Mackenzie noted. The cat arched its back and jumped out of the dumpster. It landed by Mackenzie's feet letting out a tiny "mew." It rubbed itself against his legs, indicating wordlessly that it wanted to be picked up. Mackenzie sighed and complied to the feline's wishes. "I guess you can come home with me."

He arrived back home with the cat in tow. He was greeted by his wife and his son. His wife planted a kiss on his cheek while almost not noticing the feline in his hands. "Dear?" she asked, "why is there a cat?"

"Oh, I found this little scoundrel in the alleyway when I was notified of an incident."

His wife shook her head. "I've heard about what happened. I hate that the man took his own life. How tragic."

The couple's young son became enamored by the cat, naming it George W. Bush. The two would often seclude themselves to play with each other. However, strange occurrences began to befall the home. Items were disappearing, and there was knocking throughout the home. The couch and other sofa were getting clawed open by George W. Bush. From there on, Officer Mackenzie placed George W. Bush in the garage. Nevertheless, mysterious happenings were continuing to plague the family.

One night after a grueling hour of work, Officer Mackenzie collapsed onto his bed and immediately slipped into sleep. Around 8, a chill ran down his spine for some unknown reason. Before he could comprehend what was happening, he found his eyes wandering towards his closet which was now open. He tried to rationalize it as just being the case of a gust of wind, but he stopped in his thoughts when he saw something large protruding from the closet. In the moonlight, he could make out a batwing. However, it belonged to what may as well be a larger species than the ones native to his county.

"You have yet to believe that I exist?"

Mackenzie wanted to scream, but he felt something pressing down firmly on his abdomen. His arms were glued to his sides just as paralyzed. The door creaked open further when the wing began to beat in and up and down fashion. The scent of sulfur filled the room. Another bat wing emerged from the closet. The monster's footsteps echoed on the floor. The large frame of the creature erupted from the restricted space. What Mackenzie saw next was the creature's singular, flaming eye.

The Popobawa darted at Mackenzie like a speeding bullet. He swept the chief of police off his feet and made for the windowsill. Mackenzie's wife shot awake from the sound of the glass breaking. Mackenzie regained consciousness and awoke to find himself in a strange realm. Within the realm, he saw what appeared to be emaciated skeletons in piles around the Popobawa. The realm was laced with a yellow hinge, explaining the smell of sulfur.

"Where am I?" Officer Mackenzie finally asked.

The Popobawa acted hurt. "You don't remember me? As your cat, I was certain that you would recognize me."

Officer Mackenzie's eyes widened. He went to pick himself up, but he was still paralyzed. The large bat monster towered over him. Popobawa bent downwards with a demented smile on his face. "I'm so happy to have a new playmate. I once knew this man who also refused to believe in me. I stalked him relentlessly for weeks until I drove him mad."

The grip that Popobawa had on Mackenzie increased. Mackenzie felt his ribcage straining from the monster's weight. If the Popobawa did not relent, his ribcage would be crushed into a paste in no time. Warmblood was seeping out of Mackenzie's mouth. His words came out in a garbled hush. "Please, Popobawa, what do you want of me?"

The Popobawa's sadistic smile flared again. "You didn't believe I existed. That other fool also refused to believe I existed. I kept him in my realm for a solid week, but the rules of my world do not even begin to resemble your own." He cupped Mackenzie's cheek with one of his single-fingered hands. The weight was now becoming unbearable. "I can't decide whether to emasculate you here or now or crush you to nothingness. Either one is a fine idea for me."

Mackenzie's bones were on the brink of splintering. He was done for, he thought. His lungs were getting compressed as with his lower body. He was losing consciousness quickly. His eyes glazed over from the restricting of oxygen flow.

"I'll tell others. Just please…"

The last thing he heard was the shrill laughter from Popobawa. He felt himself drifting away, certain that he was about to enter the Pearly Gates. The creature's eye was glowing deeper. "Remember to tell others about what happened to you, or it will be worse next time."

''Beep! Beep!''

A blaring alarm stirred Mackenzie awake. Somehow, he was in the middle of a four-way way. His clothes were missing. More alarms sounded as the irritated drivers slammed down on their horns. Fully awake, Mackenzie sprinted to the side and called his wife. His wife was noticeably upset even though he felt that he was only gone for an hour. She arrived with fresh clothes and embraced her husband.

"We all thought you were dead, dear!"

"What? I was only gone for an hour."

They returned home, the first person greeting them being their son. But something felt off about the development. Before he was kidnapped by the Popobawa, his son was eight years old. And yet, the boy before him was now 23 years old. Like his mother, he hugged his perplexed father.

"Son? What happened?" Mackenzie inquired, "when did you grow up so fast?"

His son was confused. "I got older, Dad," he replied.

"But how can you be? You were still 8 years old when I disappeared."

His son had a look of depression on his face. "I was 8 years old. 15 years ago."