The monster didn't look much like a monster, but then again, they never did.

I remember my Grandmother telling me about monsters – the human ones – not long after I went to live with her.

'They might look okay, Sarah, they might even seem like the nicest person you've ever met, but monsters are clever. They smile and say sweet things, just like the rest of us do. It's when they've got you that they finally show you what they really are.'

The crazy thing was, by that point, I'd already met a real-life monster and I'd known instantly what he was, so Gran was a bit late on the whole stranger-danger talk. The monster I'd met had never said sweet things, and his smile had been the stuff of nightmares, but all it had taken for me to know that he was a monster, was the same sensation I was feeling now.

With my back pressed up against my bedroom wall, the current of unease raged through me, a fire in my veins – always ironic, I thought – and a prickling coursing over my skin, like the constant scratching of a tattoo artist's needle.

It was always like this. This was the sign. The warning. Every single time, it never failed me. Every single time a monster crossed my path, this was how I knew exactly what they were.

I never once imagined, however, that I'd be experiencing this because the monster who had triggered my internal alarm system was now tied to my bed, unconscious, after I'd stabbed him in the side and spilt a shit-load of his blood over the carpet of my spare room.

Grabbing the blade from the dresser top, I approached the bed where he lay, his wrists and ankles bound and secured to the wrought-iron bedframe.

The duvet underneath him was drenched in his blood, from when he had stumbled away from me and fallen into the other room, collapsing onto my bed with blood gushing liberally from the deep wound I'd inflicted upon him. I'd followed him, my legs on automatic-pilot, and just watched from the doorway as he'd desperately tried to cover the stab-wound with his hands, the blood continuing to seep out between his fingers and the colour instantly draining from his face. He'd looked at me then, disbelief and panic in his eyes and for a moment – just for a moment, mind you – I'd felt the shame and horror of what I'd done, and then when he opened his mouth to speak and I'd seen the elongated incisors, I remembered what he was and felt nothing at all.

He was a monster.

A killer.

A Vampire.

I'd always known this day would come. When I'd first moved in, all those months ago, I'd seen it as a positive step, like I'd finally taken control of my shit-show of a life and done something to stop the nightmares. I'd even convinced myself that by moving here, away from everyone, away from them, I'd triumphed over all of it. It hadn't taken long for the buzz of my supposed win to wear off. Solitude does that to you, I guess. Sets in like a bad smell you just can't wash away with soap and lies. After that, I think I'd known that all I had been doing was delaying the inevitable.

Kill or be killed. Fight or flight. It had always been that way, and now, standing over the Vampire laying on my bed, I realised that more than I ever had.

Reaching over, I touched my thumb to his top lip, ignoring the tingling in my skin, and pushed it up so I could see his teeth – now withdrawn - which made him look like he was sneering, even though he was unconscious. Sneering seemed about right. I'd always thought Vampires had a real knack for that. Sneering at their human inferiors like we were nothing but vermin, even though they were the ones that had to skulk away in their dens during the daytime. I sometimes wondered whether that was it. Whether their high-and-mighty attitudes were all because they were just jealous of our freedom to come and go as we pleased, whenever it pleased, while they were slaves to the turning of the hands of the clock and of the Earth as it spun on its axis.

His skin was slick with perspiration peppering his brow. Faint stubble grazed his jawline. Looking at him now, unconscious and with no sharp, deadly teeth on display, he looked almost... human.

'Pfft,' I hissed to myself and stepped back, shaking my head that I'd even gone there.

Never forget what they are, Sarah. Not even for one minute.

Forgetting was foolish. Naïve. Dangerous.

Frustrated with myself, I glanced down at where I'd wrapped the bandage tightly around his stomach. I don't even know why I'd done that. I should have finished the job. I should have plunged the knife right into his chest and twisted it until I'd seen the light fade from his eyes. I'd done it before, after all, and this one was no different to the rest. In fact, he was worse, because he'd come here and there was nothing at all that could make me believe that this was just a coincidence. Maybe he'd been passing through and thought he'd try his luck snacking on the human who happened to live in the remote cottage on the edge of the woods? No. This was far from a coincidence. I could feel it, as sure as I had sensed exactly what had broken into my house as soon as I had woken up.

This one knew what I was.

So, why hadn't I just killed him when I had the chance?

Swallowing, I inched closer again, slipping my thumb underneath the saturated bandage and lifting it up to examine the wound underneath.

'What the fuck?' I gasped, holstering the blade so that I could peel back the bandage properly, exposing the whole area of skin where the knife had pierced his side. 'No, no, no,' I whispered. 'That's not possible.'

There was no wound. No injury. No evidence that I had ever stuck the knife in, apart from the blood stains on the bed and bandage, and the reddish stain on his skin.

Vampires could heal. I got that. Knew that. But within a matter of a couple of hours?

I stared, mouth open, dropping the bandage, only to lift it again seconds after just to make sure I wasn't imagining things. It had been a long night. Hell, it had been a long six months. Maybe cabin fever had finally sent me mad. It had bloody felt like it at times, but this? This was insanity. An impossibility.

'See something you like?'

I jumped back at the sound of his voice, pulling the knife quickly from where it was holstered on my hip and brandished it in front of me, staring wildly at him.

The Vampire stared back at me, his gaze cold but calm, no hint of the panic and confusion that I was now clearly displaying. My hand was shaking, and he caught sight of the tremor instantly, his mouth curling up into a half-smile. Lifting his head, he glanced down at where his ankles were tied, his legs spread-eagled on the bed.

'Interesting position you have me in here,' he said, with the subtlest hint of a smile. 'Tell me, were you planning on killing me, or did you have something more nefarious in mind?'

I couldn't speak. Could barely breathe. And as each wordless second slipped by, I felt my power drain until I might as well have been the one tied up on the bed and completely at his mercy, instead of him at mine.

'Just so you know,' he went on, the smile growing, an arrogant gleam in his eyes. 'I've never done it with a Sensor before, but I'm always up for trying new things. I'd be happy to oblige if those hands of yours want to keep on exploring. Might want to change the bed sheets first though.'

'Shut up,' I snapped, horrified at how quickly my face had heated with embarrassment.

This wasn't going well. Barely a minute had gone by and already I felt foolish and weak and why the Hell wouldn't my hand stop bloody shaking?

'What are you?' I said, accusatorily jabbing the sharp end of the blade in the direction of his abdomen.

'I would have thought that was obvious,' he replied, the smile now gone, replaced by something colder and crueller. 'I mean, you can feel me, right? I'm there, aren't I? Burying under your skin? One of your kind – not the type to stab me and tie me to the bed, I might add, a bit of a let-down I have to say – said it was like bugs crawling inside your veins. Tiny beetles scratching at your bones. He couldn't cope with it at all. Was practically begging me to end his life so he wouldn't have to feel it anymore. Of course, I was more than happy to grant his wish. Didn't bring me quite as much satisfaction to kill him, as it will when I kill you though. Call it karma for the whole stabbing thing.'

Anger flared furiously. I gripped the knife tighter.

'I'd like to see you try that when you're the one tied to the bed. Unless of course you happen to be the Houdini of the Vampire world?' I exhaled a snort of cold humour. 'Although, considering you couldn't even dodge my blade, I don't hold out much hope of you escaping anytime soon, but please, feel free to try. It's been quite a night. I could do with something to lighten my mood.'

'You had a lucky shot,' he mumbled, not looking quite so confident.

'Lucky? Please.' I rolled my eyes. 'I wasn't even trying. You caught me by surprise and I still got you. Either you're the stupidest Vampire alive, or you need to go back to Vampire Hogwarts for some more training. You're not very good at this, are you?'

'What?' Irritation flickered like a shadow across his face. 'Fucking Hell, you really have no idea, do you?'

I straightened my spine, rolling my shoulders back to iron out the tension and wandered over to the window, casually drawing back the heavy curtains. The blizzard had stopped a while ago and the moon was now casting its light over the thick snow, the brightness of the white blanket making it seem closer to dawn than it actually was. There were still a couple of hours to go until sunrise. A couple of hours to stand my ground. A couple of hours to keep on surviving. I could do that. I'd been doing it all my life, after all. A couple of hours weren't going to make any difference, especially when the only threat was well and truly tied to my bed and not going anywhere.

I glanced back at the Vampire who definitely wasn't looking so sure of himself anymore. He slicked a tongue over his dry lips and swallowed, eyes widening, hands clenching into fists. Catching my gaze upon him, he did his best to steady his own, but I'd already seen his fear. Could feel it, like the air had just thickened around him.

Got you, I thought.

'Ever seen a Vampire burn up in the sunlight?' he said. His voice sounded slightly hoarse now.

I smiled thinly. 'Should I fetch the marshmallows?'

'The skin melts off the bones,' he said, clearly doing his best attempt to unnerve me. 'It's not pretty. It's going to make one Hell of a mess and that smell of burnt flesh will be in your nostrils for weeks after. You won't be able to light a fire again without thinking about me burning alive. It's just like watching a human burn, only far, far worse, trust me.'

'Except you're not a human, are you? You're a...' I stopped, my gaze drifting to the bloodied bandage again. 'You didn't answer my question. Not really. You healed within a couple of hours. How is that possible? I know you bastards have a nasty habit of healing fast, but not that fast. It takes days, sometimes longer. What makes you different?'

The Vampire pressed his lips together and said nothing, his face a hard, stone mask.

Pushing myself away from the window, I approached the bed and slid the blade under the bandage. His eyes widened as I sliced it clean through to reveal his stomach again. I didn't understand. There wasn't even a mark. No scar. No puckering of flesh. Just smooth, hard skin and muscle. I pressed the tip of the knife to where it had pierced his body the first time and he gasped, sucking in a breath, his abs twitching under the cold steel.

'I could do it again,' I said, looking him in the eyes. 'I mean, it hurt, right? When I stabbed you? None of you are oblivious to pain. You might be able to heal, and you clearly heal much faster than the others, but when I do it, when I stab you again, it's going to fucking hurt, isn't it? I could make it last longer this time too. See if I can make more of a mess of you as I do it.'

I slid the blade down his stomach until it reached his crotch, pressing down slightly and enjoying as he squirmed, his breath quickening.

'Or maybe I could make a mess of you here? I could cut it off. Tell me,' I mused, running my tongue over my teeth. 'Will your côck magically reattach itself? You know, like one of those reanimated zombie limbs in the old shitty horror movies, where the arm desperately tries to crawl back to the body it's just been severed from?'

'Stop it!'

I trailed the knife down between his legs, right where I knew his balls would be and increased the pressure, pushing the knife until the tip was piercing the fabric of his jeans. The Vampire pushed his feet against the bedframe, desperately trying to inch his body up the bed and away from the knife.

'I said, stop it!'

I shook my head. 'Not until you tell me. I'll ask you again,' I said. 'What the Hell are you?'