write-it-motherfuckers:

You’ve always adored animals, especially the misunderstood ones. Recently, you had needed to take an injured bat home from the recovery centre with you, as it seemed to need more in depth care than the others, though its nothing new for you to have to occasionally take an animal home when another volunteer can’t. 

One evening, whilst caring for the bats wounds, you accidentally nick your hand with a knife you left on the table. Hissing, you hold the bat to your chest, trying not to get any blood on it, or get any germs in your wound, while you head to the kitchen to get a bandage. 

You’ve barely walked a few steps, when there’s a sudden heavy weight on your chest, darkness obscuring your vision. With a squeak, you fall back heavily, your head saved from hitting the hard floor at the last second, by a large hand carefully cupping the back of it. 

Sitting astride your body, pressed flush against you, is a tall, intimidating, and attractive stranger, eyes pitch black and your blood still smeared on their face. They quirk a grin at you, baring sharp prominent fangs, their visible wounds starting to heal rapidly before your eyes.

“Thank you my Dear.”