Falling for my Vampire Captain
The silence it left was the loud kind.
Then it started again, from the same point, with the same rhythm, and the cold that moved through the flat was not the cold from the broken window.
I stood up.
I looked at the door.
“Show yourself,” I said, into the flat’s silence. Not loudly. The specific volume of someone speaking to something they know can hear them regardless of volume. “If you have a purpose here, show yourself.”
The knocking stopped.
The silence returned.
And in the silence, from somewhere beyond the door but inside the building, a sound reached me that was not knocking and was not footsteps and was not any of the things the night had been producing.
Bab Populer