5. Just another monster wearing a human face.
Chapter five
Just another monster wearing a human face...
Nick
R eality seeped back into Nick’s awareness in thin trickles. Cold floor beneath his knees. Antiseptic smell burning his sinuses. A pleasant, melancholy tune being whistled nearby that somehow made his chest ache.
Nick blinked, his vision clearing as he emerged from the dissociative fog.
He still kneeled on the floor, though the submissive posture felt foreign now, like clothing that didn’t quite fit.
His arm throbbed as the pain crept back into his awareness.
Whatever the vampire had done to take away his pain was wearing off.
Get up . Move . Escape .
His muscles refused to cooperate. The internal command bounced off walls of exhaustion and lingering conditioning.
Movement near the door caught his attention. The vampire lay on his back on the floor, long legs propped up against the wall, his hands tucked behind his head. Headphones covered his ears as he whistled along to whatever he was listening to.
The melody floated through the room, haunting and beautiful. Something about it tugged at Nick’s memory—a forgotten fragment buried beneath years of pain. The tune scratched at locked doors in his mind, promising something he couldn’t quite grasp.
Tears welled unexpectedly in his eyes. Nick blinked them back, unsettled by the reaction. The melody felt important, meaningful in ways he couldn’t articulate. The harder he tried to remember, the more his chest tightened with inexplicable grief.
What is that song?
His hunter instincts retreated in confusion, leaving him kneeling on the floor, neither fighting nor fully submitting. Just... being.
The silent vampire glanced in his direction and bolted upright. The sudden movement made Nick flinch, a sharp gasp escaping his lips. Get it together . Show no fear .
But I’m scared .
The vampire rubbed his chest with his fist in a circular motion, mouthing what looked like“sorry.”Instead of approaching, he grabbed a food tray from a nearby counter and a marker, keeping his distance as if recognizing Nick’s fragile state.
The vampire uncapped the marker and wrote on the tray in neat, blocky letters:‘ Luka Jovanovska. Hospital in town. 8 hours passed.’
Nick stared at the writing, searching for hidden meanings or manipulation tactics. The handwriting was oddly precise—each letter carefully formed, almost architectural in its structure. His eyes lingered on the name. Luka . The silent vampire had a name now.
“You spoke earlier. Talking would be faster,”Nick said. The hunter was returning. Analyzing. Calculating.
The vampire shook his head firmly. His hands moved in a fluid pattern—fingers dancing through what looked like sign language, though Nick couldn’t understand it.
When Nick didn’t respond, Luka extended the index fingers of both hands, bringing them toward each other twice in a jabbing movement, then grimaced and winced dramatically.
“Monsters don’t feel pain,”Nick stated flatly. The words felt right in his mouth, familiar territory after the humiliating submission episode.
Luka’s face scrunched up, eyebrows drawing together in clear disagreement. He turned the tray over and wrote quickly:‘ Turning doesn’t fix.’
Something uncomfortable shifted in his chest. The statement contradicted everything the Society had drilled into him—vampires weren’t people, just parasites wearing human faces. Monsters incapable of real emotion or suffering.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken questions. Nick felt himself slipping again, the submissive conditioning creeping up his spine like cold fingers. Without orders or direct threats, his mind struggled to maintain clarity.
“Can I leave?”he asked, hating how small his voice sounded.
Luka shook his head, expression gentle but firm. He wrote on the tray:‘ Once better, you can leave.’
Nick’s hand curled into a fist, the familiar anger offering a lifeline away from the submissive state. The hunter stirred inside him, assessing the situation with cold precision.
“Better by whose definition?”His voice gained strength with each word.“You keep me here until I’m ‘fixed’ enough to hunt again? Is that it?”
Luka raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by the question. He scribbled quickly:‘ Infection gone = you leave. Your choice then.’
Nick shifted his weight, muscles protesting as he pushed himself off the floor. His legs trembled with the effort, but he refused to show weakness. Standing put him above the vampire, reclaiming some sense of control.
“Why help me at all? I’ve been trying to kill you for weeks.”The question burned in his throat. Nothing made sense. Vampires didn’t save humans—they used them, fed from them, discarded them.
Luka considered the question, head tilting slightly. His expression softened into something Nick couldn’t interpret. He wrote:‘ Good question. Don’t know exactly.’
The honesty was disarming. Nick expected manipulation, calculated kindness designed to create obligation. The simple admission of uncertainty felt dangerously genuine.
Don’t trust this . Monsters lie . Manipulate . Destroy .
Nick stood frozen, waiting for Luka to make a move.
But the vampire remained seated, hands deliberately visible, palms open.
The gesture seemed kind, respectful even.
Nick’s thoughts splintered as he tried to categorize the creature before him.
One moment he was Luka, a person with a name who hadn’t harmed him; the next, he was just another monster wearing a human face.
He could have killed you when you lost time. He didn’t.
The thought rose from somewhere deep within Nick, a voice he barely recognized as his own. It felt foreign yet familiar, like finding an old photograph of himself.
That will get us killed , the hunter part countered immediately.
Don’t upset him , whispered the shattered remnants of Gianmarco’s pet.
Nick remained motionless, paralyzed by the competing voices. Each part of him wanted desperately to live, to save Caleb, but none could agree on how to survive this moment.
Pain crept back into his awareness, first as a whisper, then a shout.
His knees ached from countless hours spent on Gianmarco’s marble floors.
The joints in his hand throbbed from old breaks that never healed properly.
Worst was the amputation site—a radiating, hot pulse that grew stronger with each heartbeat.
Luka rose from his position, approaching with hands still deliberately visible. The sudden movement sent a jolt of adrenaline through Nick’s system.
“Stay back!”Nick stumbled backward, voice cracking.“Just—stay there while I figure this out.”
His legs trembled beneath him, threatening to buckle as exhaustion and pain seeped deeper into his bones. The infection might be treated, but his body remained weak.
Luka stopped immediately, respecting the boundary. He demonstrated a slow, deep breath—in through the nose, out through the mouth—then pointed at Nick, suggesting he do the same.
Nick didn’t mirror the calming breath. Couldn’t.
His chest felt too tight, lungs refusing to expand properly.
The room continued its slow spin as more pain flooded back in, washing away the temporary relief Luka had provided earlier.
He gripped the footboard of the bed to steady himself.
All the options seemed bad. All the parts of him pulled in different directions.
Nick’s legs decided for him. His knees buckled beneath him. Before he could hit the floor, strong hands caught him around the waist, steadying him. Luka held him upright, allowing Nick to remain on his feet while providing just enough support to keep him from collapsing.
Nick tensed, waiting for the hands to wander, to explore, to hurt—but they remained exactly where they’d landed. No painful grip, no threatening pressure, just a touch felt clinical, purposeful. Not like Gianmarco’s lingering fingers or a Society handler’s bruising grasp.
“Let go of me,”Nick said, forcing hardness into his voice. The hunter spoke through him, cold and commanding.
Luka frowned, a flicker of something—hurt?—crossing his features. He released his grip, hands hovering close as Nick swayed but remained upright.
Nick’s thoughts tangled together. The vampire had listened. Had respected his demand instead of punishing him for it. That wasn’t how this was supposed to work. Monsters took. They didn’t listen.
Luka gestured toward the bed, then back to Nick with a questioning expression. He pulled his phone from his pocket with deliberate slowness, every movement telegraphed as if to avoid startling Nick. His fingers tapped rapidly across the screen before he turned it toward Nick.
If you rest, you’ll get better faster.
Nick stared at the bed, torn between practicality and fear. The hunter part of him recognized the strategic value in regaining strength. The broken part that still belonged to Gianmarco feared punishment for accepting comfort.
Trust. Just for now. The voice rose again, quiet but persistent.
Nick nodded once, a sharp, decisive movement.
He took a tentative step toward the bed, then another.
Luka’s hands ghosted along his torso, not quite touching but ready to catch him if he fell.
The supportive presence made Nick move with more confidence, a fact that disturbed him.
He shouldn’t feel safer with a monster nearby.
He reached the bed and eased himself onto it, never taking his eyes off Luka.
His body remained rigid as he reclined against the pillows, the unexpected softness feeling alien against his aching muscles and bones.
The truck bed’s hard metal surface had been uncomfortable but familiar—like the box under Gianmarco’s bed, like the concrete floors of Society safe houses.
The hospital room felt vast and exposed.
Nick knew it was a small space, but his perception warped it into something cavernous and threatening.
Too many angles. Too many approaches. Too many ways for someone to reach him while he slept.
His breathing accelerated, growing shallow and rapid as panic clawed up his throat.
Luka’s hand extended toward him, hovering above his chest, asking permission without words. Nick made no move to stop him, frozen between fear and desperate curiosity. The hand descended, resting lightly on his sternum. Luka gently took Nick’s hand and placed it against his own chest.
Luka closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose. The vampire’s lips moved silently, counting to five. Then he exhaled through his mouth. Nick felt the steady rise and fall beneath his palm, the rhythmic expansion and contraction of lungs that didn’t need air.
Without conscious decision, Nick found himself mimicking the pattern. Inhale through the nose—exhale through the mouth. The panic receded with each breath, ebbing away like a tide pulling back from shore.
Luka withdrew his hands, opening his eyes to meet Nick’s gaze. A smile spread across his face—not Gianmarco’s predatory grin or Henderson’s cold smirk, but something genuine that reached his eyes. He gave Nick two enthusiastic thumbs up.
Nick gaped at him, utterly bewildered. This creature defied every category, every warning, every lesson. Vampires were monsters. They hurt. They manipulated. They destroyed.
But this one had caught him when he fell, respected his boundaries, and demonstrated breathing through panic without demanding anything in return.
What are you?