After the Mark

CHAPTER FIVE: Awakened Hunger

I woke up in darkness.

The space around me was tight—too tight. I could barely move left or right. There was only a thin gap on either side of my body. I tried to stretch my arms forward and couldn't.

That was when it hit me.

I was in a box.

Panic surged through me, sharp and immediate. My breathing grew erratic. Before I could shout, before I could thrash, the lid above me slid open.

Light poured in.

Her face appeared.

The girl from the bathroom.

She smirked down at me. "I could hear your heartbeat getting faster."

I sat up slowly, my movements stiff, my mind racing. As my vision adjusted, I realized exactly where I was.

A coffin.

A white wooden coffin, smooth and polished, with strange inscriptions carved along its edges. The symbols were unfamiliar, sharp and deliberate, written in a language I didn't recognize—but somehow felt.

I climbed out.

The room we were in took my breath away. The bedroom was massive, elegant in a way that screamed wealth without trying too hard. High ceilings. Soft golden lighting hidden within recessed walls. Marble floors cold beneath my feet. Heavy velvet curtains draped over floor-to-ceiling windows. A king-sized bed sat perfectly centered, dressed in dark silk sheets. Art pieces—old, expensive, deliberate—hung quietly on the walls. Everything smelled clean, expensive, timeless.

This wasn't just a bedroom.

It was a sanctuary.

I glanced back at the coffin.

And suddenly, I knew.

I'm a vampire.

She turned me into one.

"Seems like you have lots of questions," she said calmly, settling onto a long leather couch across the room.

"Not really," I replied. "Maybe one or two."

"Okay. Go ahead."

"What does this mean for me now?"

She smiled. "Freedom. Freedom from it all. You're free now. Congratulations."

I paused.

She was right.

I wasn't human anymore. No rules. No obligations. No weakness. No fear of failure. No fear of death the way humans feared it.

"So now I have to start feeding on human blood?" I asked.

"Yes," she said simply. "If you want to survive, you need to complete your transition."

"How long do I have left?"

"Two more days. If you don't feed within two days, you'll die a human."

I swallowed. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Turn me."

"I drained you," she said calmly, as if explaining a recipe. "All the way to the point of death. Then I fed you my blood. After that, you passed out again."

As she spoke, memories surfaced—her blood in my mouth, thick and warm, the pleasure that followed, overwhelming and intoxicating.

That was it.

That was the feeling I'd been craving ever since.

The hunger finally had a name.

I walked over and sat on the couch directly opposite her. I smiled.

She smiled back.

"Tonight," she said softly, her eyes darkening, "you will hunt and feed."

She stood and walked toward the window, pulling the blinds aside. The night spilled into the room.

That was when I realized we were high—very high. A skyscraper.

I joined her by the glass, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Below us, Abuja glowed like a carefully guarded secret. The streets were lined with golden streetlights that stretched endlessly, curving around manicured roads and towering buildings. Luxury hotels shimmered in the distance, their glass walls reflecting the moonlight. Cars moved smoothly below, their headlights like slow-moving stars, while pockets of greenery—parks, trees, quiet gardens—broke the concrete with calm elegance. It was Abuja at its richest, its quietest, its most powerful.

It amazed me how I'd lived in this city for seven years and never once stepped into this world.

"Look down there," she said.

I did. People moved along the streets, couples laughing, strangers passing, lives unfolding without fear or awareness.

"One of these people," she continued calmly, "will be the lucky one. The one you'll feed on."

I turned to her. She was already looking at me.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Juliet."

I smiled. She smiled back.

After a while, we entered the elevator and began our descent.

"So," I said, breaking the silence, "if I'm a vampire, how come I didn't burn under the sun?"

"I thought you only had two questions," she replied without looking at me.

"Come on."

She sighed lightly. "You aren't completely a vampire yet. Right now, you're half dead… half alive."

"Oh," I said slowly. "But you're a full vampire, and you came to rescue me under the sun."

She turned slightly toward me. "That's because I'm not like the vampires you watch on TV. I'm—"

The elevator doors opened, and a young couple stepped in, laughing softly. They smiled at us. We smiled back.

Without saying a word, I gently touched Juliet's hand and tilted my head toward them, silently asking what about them?

She straightened instantly.

"Calm down," she whispered, then subtly pointed to the corner of the elevator.

A camera.

I said nothing until the doors opened again.

Downstairs, I realized we were inside a hotel.

Everything screamed wealth—marble floors polished to perfection, towering pillars, soft golden lighting, and a quiet elegance that made even breathing feel expensive.

"This place is amazing," I said. "Is it okay to leave our coffins in the room?"

"I don't think there'll be any problems," Juliet replied casually. "Relax."

"Are you sure?"

She glanced at me. "Don't you think the owner would be sure about her hotel?"

"Oh," I said slowly. "So you know the owner?"

She sighed, long and tired, and that was when it hit me.

"Wait," I said. "Are you the owner?"

She gave me a look. "Don't you think that if you'd been alive since the Oyo Empire until now, you'd be a billionaire—at least?"

I stared at her, stunned.

"Wow," I said. "You're that old. And here I was thinking you were just twenty-four… maybe twenty-five."

"I was twenty-two when I was turned," she said, a trace of sadness slipping into her voice. I decided not to press further.

Soon enough, we were out of the hotel and back in the open world.

"So where to now?" I asked. "Where do we find our prey?"

She laughed, loud and genuine. "Look at you, already acting like a professional. I'm glad. You'll fit in just fine. Besides, it's better to let them find you. Let's just walk."

And that's exactly what we did.

We walked in silence for a few minutes. I didn't know how to feel about what we were about to do. I was excited and terrified at the same time. I was about to feed on an innocent person—a human being with a family, a life.

"Will they die?" I asked quietly as we moved through the crowd. "If I feed on them?"

She glanced at me. "I guess it's time I tell you about the rules."

I nodded, my curiosity sharpening.

"First," she said, "don't make a mess. You must be careful who you feed on. Never choose someone powerful or famous. If you lose control and rip off the wrong person's head, it won't end well. And never run away. You always clean up your mess."

I frowned. "Why do we have to be so careful? Isn't the whole point of being a vampire freedom? Freedom to do whatever you want without consequences?"

"I wish it were that simple, Daniel," she replied. "But there are those who keep us in check. The hunters. Their job is to hunt rogue vampires—those who leave chaos everywhere they go. They kill them. That's why we're always careful."

I listened closely, absorbing every word.

That was when a girl approached us. She seemed to be advertising something.

"Hello," she said brightly. "Wow, you're such a beautiful couple. You both look like models—are you models?"

We didn't answer. We just smiled.

"Well," she continued, undeterred, "I don't know if you have a moment, but I'd love to share the word of God with you."

Juliet and I exchanged a brief look, and I understood immediately what she meant by letting them come to you.

I began to study the girl. Her slender neck. The small dark mole just above her cleavage. The flyers clutched in her left hand. Her long, thin fingers. She wore a red sundress dotted with tiny patterns, exposing her legs. My mouth watered. I imagined her warm blood filling my mouth.

Guilt flickered briefly—she was only trying to preach—but my hunger drowned it out.

"We've been walking for a while," Juliet said smoothly. "Why don't we sit somewhere and talk properly? What about here?"

She gestured to the building beside us—a bar.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the girl said hesitantly. "I'm a devoted Christian. I can't be seen in a place like that."

"You don't have to drink anything you're uncomfortable with," Juliet replied gently.

After a moment of hesitation, the girl agreed.