Bradley

Guilt floods me. This poor girl, I've already decided to eat her, yet she thinks I'm her savior. I guess it's my fault for choosing such an ironic profession. Her pretty eyes dart between me and the door, pleading for rescue; full of gratitude.

Fuck.

I exhaled and gave her a reassuring nod, crossing my arms as I thought. Surely I can manipulate her mind, but I felt guilty as hell, so I just lied instead. "You're safe now, deep breath. I'll untie you here in a moment, just uh, waiting on backup." I used my best "good cop" voice, but was sure she might guess I'm full of shit. It takes her a few moments to register the words coming out of my mouth, and her heart is pounding in my ears.

The blender cut in again obnoxiously, followed by a few Drow curses as liquid hit the floor in the kitchen. I cringed visibly because I could only guess at what the actual fuck he's concocting in there. I did my damndest not to look too disturbed by the sound, and it took everything in me to not poke my head out the door and yell at him. Her eyes dart in confusion towards the sound, then back at me seeking reassurance. It's then that she furrowed her brow, eyes locking with mine.

Whirring of the blender interrupts again, followed by Nalfain's unmistakable rage,
"TO THE NINE HELLS YOU BE DAMNED—I wish only to make a what is called a milkshake!"
I can't take it anymore. "For fucks sake Nalfain give it a goddamn rest. I'll come help you here in a moment,"

I threw my head back in exasperation, praying he heeds my words, but knowing him wholly incapable of doing so. I'm considering tearing off his head tonight and giving up on our little arrangement, but I'm so torn. Pondering what to do with Nal briefly; an ironically cute, muffled yelp brings me back to the issue at present. I drop my gaze back to the girl, finding her fair blue eyes locked with mine, wide in confusion and horror.

Ah, right.

I guess I forgot about my eyes, and realize I never masked my appearance before coming in the bedroom. Every day when I get home from work, I let my guard down, and the real me comes out. Changing my appearance is sort of like changing into pajamas after a long day at work. It feels good to relax and not have to hide what I am, eyes changing from hazel to blackened pools, fangs no longer hidden. I've even got some wicked-sharp nails. This poor human is seeing me for what I truly am, but I'm not entirely sure she knows what that is exactly.

We stare at one another in silence, save for whatever the fuck Nal is doing now.
She begins squirming against her bindings in distress, eyes never leaving me, squealing and shaking her head as I begin walking slowly towards the bed to observe. Honestly, I don't know what to do. Should I eat both of them? She would go down easy, like a light dessert.

A great deal of effort on my part will be required to take down the dark one though, and I'm a practical creature. By all accounts Nalfain would require far more energy than I should like to expend on a single kill, so practically speaking, he's worth more alive as a living blood-bank than dead. Exhaling thoughtfully I continue to watch the human struggle, wondering what to say to her.

Such a predicament.

Freya

The Sheriff is in on it? Terror washes over me and fat tears start to roll down my cheeks. I should've known better than to think I'd be rescued so easily. He seems entirely unbothered by the fact a bound girl is in his bedroom. I'm not sure what's more horrifying either at this point; my current predicament or the fact this man is looking more demon than human the longer I stare at him. I didn't notice right away, because I was so caught up in my apparent rescue, but I know for certain I've landed in a special kind of nightmare.
Black voids stare back at me where the whites of his eyes, pupils, and iris should be—there's nothing but blackness. When he talked to himself in frustration, I saw fangs where there should have been teeth. He's tall, maybe six-feet and some change at least, and painfully handsome. He's built powerfully, lean and muscular, unnaturally pale skin, with fair blonde hair, cropped short. If I saw him on the street, I'd probably be enamored, and he's unnaturally beautiful.

Everything in my body is screaming at me to find a way out of here, but I am truly trapped.
Either this is the cruelest joke of the century put on by a psychotic cosplayer, or I've stumbled upon a real-live vampire. A large, impossibly cold hand reaches out to brush the hair from my face; nope. I try to jerk my head away but the rope prevents it. Thoughtfully he studies me, expression almost apologetic. "Sorry, you knocked on the wrong door last night..." he murmurs, voice deep and velvety; black voids consuming me.

Cabinets slamming in the kitchen jar me a bit, and I observe a flash of exasperation across his face. The Sherrif, whom I decide to call bad cop, drops his face into the back of his hand groaning, then shouts irritably over a broad shoulder. "NAL! I fucking told you I'd help, just stop!"

Yep, he definitely knows the man who took me.
I've seriously got the worst luck in the world.
We sit in silence for a few minutes before a lithe figure slips through the door, and my brain short circuits the moment he steps fully into view. The bronzed beauty of a man who open the door last night is no longer—in his place now a creature with deep purple-indigo skin, dark shade leaning towards obsidian. Red eyes watch me with cruel amusement, silky silver hair up like when I saw him earlier. He retains the many piercings, though his ears now come to a delicate point.
He's completely naked, and I've a full view of his anatomy, and he's every bit as...endowed as I guessed earlier; my god.

He stands shamelessly, arms crossed, smirk tugging at his lips. "Have you finally decided to eat it?" He purrs, running a thumb over his lower lip, smile threatening to spread across his dark, ethereal face. Horror and strange curiosity floods me. For some reason I know this creature, recognizing an uncanny similarity between he and the mythical Dark Elves R.A. Salvatore described in his series, although this one is no hero like Drizzt. He's as cruel and awful as you'd expect.

No way. Drow. Vampire? It's all adding up.
These two have to be nerds like me—maybe into LARP, D&D...it has to be a cruel prank! Is there a camera somewhere? The special effects and makeup on this man have me truly amazed, and I've never seen anything so realistic. I've been to dozens of cosplay conventions over the years and LARP evens, but I've never seen costume workmanship like this.

...but like, how did he make his cock the same color as the rest of his body? There's no way this is real. It can't be Bad cop's not gonna actually gonna eat me...right?

The bed shifts under the weight of bad cop as he grimaces, voice full of exasperation, "Nal, where the fuck are your clothes? We get it, you're nice to look at, but seriously."

I decide to call the Drow "bad elf", because he seems absolutely terrible despite his outward appearance, although I'm quite sure he's called Nal. Bad Elf shrugs, grinning at Bad Cop, "my clothing is soiled. Besides, I am comfortable this way."

I think bad cop is rolling his eyes—or, voids per say. "...put clean ones on then, you dumbass."
Bad elf remains motionless, red eyes fixed on his friend defiantly. "Fetch some for me, then, if you so desire me to be clothed."

"No Nalfain, I am not your fucking maid. We've been through this. Walk your pretty ass to the closet and put some clothes on. I'm not going to even bother to ask what you did with the dirty ones..." bad cop growls, falling back on the bed, cursing under his breath.

"Fine." Bad Elf mutters, throwing a dirty look over his shoulder. "Now, then Bradley. Entertain me, and eat her already, as I am bored." His perfect form strolls lazily towards the closet opposite from the bed.

Oh my god, he said it again. "Eat me."

Bad Cop grumbles, "You're the one that's complicating this, elf. If I wanted a human I could've found one myself, and I certainly wouldn't have brought it here! I planned to eat you, then go to sleep. Now I've got this to deal with, and a disaster in the kitchen to clean. Do you have any idea how long my night was? I swear on the spider queen I'll kill you one of these days."

Spider Queen, as in Lolth? Calling me "human"?
This is definitely some kind of fucked up LARP session, and I'm being forced to participate.

Bad Elf spun around and hissed angrily, it's then I saw sharper-than-natural canines in his mouth. "You dare mention that bitch? She has little power here, Vampire. I will separate your head from your neck in your slumber. Mark my words. My blade shall have its fill and I will eat your dead heart."

...the hell? These two are becoming too realistic.
Bad cop dismissed Bad Elf with a wave of his hand, voice switching from exasperation to dark and authoritative; "Whatever Nal, just don't forget to swallow like a good boy when I throat fuck you tonight."

I felt a rush of heat go to my face; they're partners! As fucked as this whole situation is, the way bad cop spoke just now was...kinda hot. No, no, no, wait. What am I doing? He's a psycho! Not hot, not hot, not hot. I squirmed a bit, trying to get back to the problem at present—my captivity.