George

"Jared!"

I knock forcefully on my neighbor's door, my reddish knuckles pounding against the wood. The sound of my aggressive knocks reverberates through the apartment.

From inside, I hear a groan. Glancing up, I see the light in his bedroom flick on, casting a warm glow through the frosted glass.

Moments later, the front door swings open.

"George?" the blond man asks in his husky morning voice.

I feel a surge of desire at the sight of him, his tousled hair and sleepy eyes making him look irresistibly handsome. The intimacy of the late hour adds to the heat between us, heightening the tension in the air.

"What are you doing here at three in the morning?" he asks and rubs his eyes with his fingers.

"You," I say. My finger traces lightly over his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin.

Jared stiffens at my touch. His breath catches in his throat. He inhales deeply, his eyebrows furrowing as he studies me with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"You're drunk," he concludes. His voice low and edged with concern, yet tinged with a hint of something more intense.

"You left," I say.

"So what?" the man asks and raises an eyebrow.

I take a few steps closer, and he instinctively moves back a bit, creating a space between us.

His piercing blue gaze meets mine, holding me in place. He wets his lower lip nervously and then looks away, as if unable to withstand the intensity of our connection.

"Dammit," he curses under his breath. "Why on earth are you here?"

As my eyes trail down his body, I realize he's wearing nothing but navy blue sweatpants. My gaze widens, and my mouth falls open slightly. I raise a hand to my lips, gasping dramatically at the sight of his muscular physique, almost as if I can't believe what I'm seeing. I cautiously reach out with the palm of my cold hand, as if to confirm if he's real.

"Don't," the sapphire eyes of him glare at me while he swats my hands away.

"I just want to check–"

"Check what!?" he yells in confusion. Panic is painted all over his face. "Don't you dare to lay a finger on me!"

Ignoring his protests, I continue stepping forward while he retreats, inadvertently leading us both into the house.

"Get the fuck out of here!" he growls.

Suddenly, he stumbles and falls backwards, landing on the couch with a groan. I topple over, landing on his bare chest. The side of my face smacks against him, and I feel his body beneath me.

Rock hard, my drunken mind notes as my hand rests on his abdomen.

I stand up abruptly, staring at my hand in disbelief.

"They're real, George," I mutter to myself.

He immediately stands up.

"You!" he yells. He freezes with his eyes wide open.

"I just want to–" I stop talking when someone grabs my waist from behind and puts a knife right below her chin.

"Surprise. Surprise."

A man with pale skin and a red mohawk suddenly appears. Jared's eyes are on the knife right below my chin. The stranger's clawed hands are wrapped around my waist.

"Who are you?" Jared asks.

"Yeah, who on earth are you? Giving me a back hug as if I know you–" I butt in.

"Shut your mouth!" Jared growls at her.

"Damn it. She's way more stressing me than this unknown visitor," Jared whispers.

"I heard that the cold-hearted Prince gets warm with this lady," the unwanted visitor smiles wickedly.

His fangs are showing from his evil grin. "None of our kingdom's beauties captivated your heart," he adds and trails my jaw with his gloved fingers.

I aggressively flinched my head, avoiding the touch of the stranger.

I smell the scent of rust.

Blood.

It's a scent of blood.

The man with a mohawk placed his nose near my neck.

I shiver.

A deep grumble escaped from his fanged mouth, "Sweet. How about I—Ooff."

I kick the stranger's crotch with my pointy heels. The knife falls on the floor as well as the man. He frees me and holds his crotch.

"Hah," I scoff. "Glad I wear heels."

I sharply move my gaze to Jared.

"I can't understand you! Jared! Who on earth is this?" I ask in confusion and point at the stranger in the room.

Jared pulls my arm and hides me behind him. "Don't do anything stupid. Stay there."

My eyebrows raise.

Who do you think you are, my Prince Charming?

I protest in my mind.

Jared stands up straight and flexes his shoulders. He somehow grows bigger. He grabs the man's neck and stares at him with his bloodshot eyes.

"I didn't summon anyone. Who gives you the command to give me this little visit?" he coldly asks. His grip tightens around the massive beast's neck. He lifts the beast and if he is lighter than me.

"Leave... the throne—ack," the fanged-beast speaks breathlessly.

The beast wraps his legs around Jared's neck and escapes from the young man's grasp. As it touches the ground with its hands, the beast flips the young man over and hits the floor. The vigorous beast is now standing on his feet, walking towards me. Jared immediately stands up and grabs the knife. He stabs the beast's right arm and twists the knife twice. Its loud groan leaves its fanged mouth as the young man slashes the beast's limb.

Shock.

I fall to my knees, watching the brutal scene with my own eyes. The scene of him tearing the beast's right arm, and throwing it at the corner, makes my knees tremble.

What's happening?

Breathing.

Panting.

Deep voices grumbling.

His ocean-blue eyes meet my sober gaze. He rushes towards me.

"Are you okay?" he breathes out.

With my trembling hands, I wrap my arms around Jared's neck. My tears start falling. My mind is clouded with so many questions.

"Jared," I say with my trembling lips. "What's going on?"

"Ssshhhh," Jared holds my hands and helps me stand up.

"Awwww, what a romantic scene for a tragic ending."

Though its arm was torn, the beast still manages to stand on its feet. A dark wicked smirk is plastered across its lips. Blood seeps through the corner of the beast's mouth.

Jared pulls me with him to the kitchen. His hands reach for the cabinets, searching for something. As soon as his hand touches a syringe, the beast grabs his neck. It chokes him with its only arm. George reaches for the knife on the kitchen counter, but Jared stabs the man's leg with the syringe. The beast growls in pain and falls on his back.

My vision spins.

"Georgina!" his voice echoes in my head before the sound of my body hitting the ground follows.

I look at my digital clock over my bedside table.

I stand up to get a glass of water as I feel the dryness of my throat. I turn on all the lights before walking my way to the kitchen. Even in my bedroom, I turn the lights on. I rush downstairs so I could immediately go back to bed.

Devil's Hour.

I never believed in it before. But, the scene that I witnessed in Jared's house yesterday proved that it's real.

I hear footsteps outside and feel someone staring at me. Quickly, I drink a glass of water. I rush upstairs, but I hear someone knock on my front door. My knees tremble. My hands are shaking. I look outside the window.

"Who is it?"

"Georgina," I hear Aunt Liz's voice. "It's three in the morning. Why are you still awake? Your lights are still on," I hear her ask in a sleepy voice.

I sigh in relief and open the door.

"I just drank a glass of water. I'll go back to sleep now," I say and yawn.

Wait a second. Why is she here this early morning?

She suddenly grabs my waist and pulls me near her.

"Gotcha," she smiles wickedly.

Shadow forms around her as she turns into a massive creature. All I can see now is a pure black enormous shadow. I hear the beast rumbles.

"Help!"

"Nu-uh." It cups my mouth. "You should not dare to ask for any tiny-brained humans out there," I hear its deep voice, "'Cause they wouldn't help. I'll just crush their tiny little fragile skulls and eat them."

The creature in front of me laughs maniacally. Its grip tightens around my waist. I cry in pain as my vision blurs.

"HELP!" I shout and open my eyes. I see waking up myself in my bedroom.

I close my eyes and cover myself with the blanket.

"D-devil's hour," I breathe out.

"Don't do anything stupid."

Jared.

"What is happening? What are you?"

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