Page 37 of A Hail From Hell: Vol 1

A deep inhale. A muffled growl.

And the fangs pierced his throat.

A gasp tore through the tense air, followed by Evan’s shuddering whimper.

He clutched onto the figure’s broad shoulders, blood and saliva running down the side of his neck, warm and wet.

A satisfied grunt escaped the figure’s occupied mouth as he sucked a couple of mouthfuls of blood, stealing with it some of Evan’s spiritual energy.

Evan could physically feel the light from his spiritual core climbing up his chest, to his throat, out of the two punctureholes, and into an awaiting mouth. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

All these years of cultivating and preserving his core just to have it sucked away by a divine dog in heat…

What a pity.

With the little energy left in him, Evan tried to push him away but to no avail. He was quite literally double Evan’s size.

As blood drained from his veins, dark spots dotted his vision, his arms falling limp to his sides. The shimmering inside of the bubble of energy blurred before Evan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and everything turned black.

When Evan’s eyelids peeled open into pitch black, dizziness gripped his head in its clutches. A throbbing pain shot up his temple, making him groan.

He squinted into the dim room—his bedroom—one hand supporting the back of his heavy head. As he slowly sat up in his bed, Evan’s disoriented head lolled to a side, facing the open window for fresh air—

“Aah!” he jerked away with a start, accidentally rolling down the side of the bed and onto the cold floor.

Thud.

A sharp breath rushed out of Evan’s mouth as his entire skeleton rattled with that fall, but he shook it off quickly. Popping half of his head up from the side of the bed, he peeked at the window of his dark bedroom, where stood a dark silhouette. The same one he’d seen at Greene Mansion. The one that had followed him into his house. The one that had…

That had sucked off his blood.

Evan reached up, fingertips grazing the side of his neck, against the two tiny puncture wounds. There was no blood or pain, just a dull ache.

Just how long had he been out? Another day or two?

“For what I did…I apologize. I did not mean to…” The words echoed from the silhouette, and Evan reflexively ducked under the bed. “I lost control. I only hope you can forgive me.”

The air around the room was clogged with dense guilt and gusts of icy breeze. Evan blinked furiously at the floor, confused and irritated why he was hiding in his own room. Slowly, he raised his head to look at the figure.

The curtains blew across the empty space at the open window.

He was gone.

Jumping upright, Evan slapped a hand against the light switches, turning on all the lights in the room. But the silhouette was nowhere in sight. Evan stared at the open window, dumbfounded, the red-clad figure’s words echoing in his ears.

Evan glanced at the lock screen of his phone. He’d blacked out for just over two hours.

Andhehad probably stood and watched him sleep.

Evan shuddered.

But something didn't add up.

That red-clad figure had forcefully pinned Evan down, drained him—blood and spiritual energy alike—murmured an apology, and…left?

Strangemight've been an understatement. ButWhat the fuck?could aptly describe Evan’s reactions to the whole unnerving, intrusive encounter.

He couldn’t believe he'd gotten hard.

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