The Vampire's Doll

The Vampire's Doll

Shabs Shabs · Ongoing · 312.0k Words

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Introduction

His hands wandered lower, fingers pressing into the dip of my spine, then slipping over the curve of my hips. His fingers teased the sensitive skin there, his touch lingering, exploring. A massage was one thing. This—this was something else entirely.
"Relax, little virgin." He withdrew his hands, but not before dragging his fingers over my waist in a lingering caress. "I’m only touching. After all… you belong to me, don’t you?"


Selene’s life had been perfectly ordinary. Classes, late-night study sessions, coffee runs—just another college student trying to survive. Until the night she was taken.
One moment, she was taking out the trash. The next, she woke up in chains, surrounded by strangers with eyes that glowed like molten gold and smiles that revealed fangs. Real, impossibly sharp fangs.
Vampires.
She would have laughed if she weren’t terrified. If the stench of blood and fear didn’t cling to the walls of the dark, underground chamber where she was held. If the stage she stood on didn’t feel like a meat market, her body was the product being sold.
She wasn’t alone. Other humans were paraded before the silent, powerful figures watching from velvet seats, bidding on them with lazy amusement. Some were terrified. Some were resigned. Selene was neither.
She was furious.
Then he stepped forward.
Tall, commanding, dangerous. The kind of man whose presence sucked the air from the room. His midnight eyes settled on her, and a cruel smirk curled his lips.
Selene’s skin prickled. Every instinct screamed at her to look away, to shrink under his gaze. But she didn’t.
And he noticed.
“A million,” the stranger said, his voice smooth, final. “In cash.”
Silence. No counterbids. No challenge.
She should have been relieved the auction was over. Instead, her stomach turned cold as she realized the truth.
She hadn’t been purchased.
She had been claimed.

Chapter 1

SELENE

I stepped out of the dorm, leaving the warmth and laughter behind, and into the cool embrace of the evening air. The flickering lights of the campus seemed distant, their soft glow barely cutting through the encroaching darkness. What had been a simple, mundane task—taking out the trash—felt oddly grounding after the emotional rollercoaster I’d just been through.

Yeah… I’d just found out my boyfriend was kissing my cousin.

Oh, and just to be clear—my cousin is a guy. So yeah… let that sink in.

The dumpster, tucked behind the building, reeked of decaying food and was overflowing with garbage.

As I walked toward it, an unsettling prickling sensation crawled up my spine. The night had suddenly turned unnaturally quiet, an eerie stillness that made everything seem off. A black van sat too close to the dumpster, its windows dark and uninviting in the weak light. A chill ran down my back, the comforting sounds of the dorm and its warm atmosphere now feeling miles away.

Hastening my steps, I yearned to return to the safety of my room. But just as I turned to glance back toward the dorm, I heard it—a voice, too close for comfort, slicing through the silence like a knife. 

“He was right. You are a beauty,” the voice sneered.

I spun around, heart racing, only to be met by the dark, hulking figure of a man. Before I could react, a strong hand clamped over my mouth, and the acrid smell of a rag seeped into my nostrils. Panic surged through me, and I kicked and thrashed, fighting for air and freedom. But the fumes filled my lungs, and with each desperate breath, my limbs grew heavier and slower. My vision blurred, and my body finally went limp as everything around me faded to black.

........

As I slowly regained consciousness, the dim light of the room blurred at the edges of my vision. My head was pounding, a sharp throb that intensified with every breath I took. I instinctively reached up to touch my forehead, but my hands were bound tightly behind my back, and I froze when I felt the restraints bite into my skin. A thick cloth was shoved into my mouth, muffling any sound I tried to make.

I was lying on the cold, unforgiving floor, the chill seeping into my skin.

I twisted my wrists, desperate to break free, but the ropes were so tight that they cut into me with each movement, leaving angry red marks. Panic surged through me as I thrashed against the bed, my sweatpants clinging to my skin as I struggled to throw my legs over the edge. 

The room was unnervingly quiet except for the distant sounds of muffled cries, echoing like whispers in the dark. Someone else—maybe more than one—was here too, trapped like me. 

The door creaked open, and my heart skipped a beat. A towering figure stepped inside, his massive frame cloaked in black from head to toe. 

His presence felt suffocating, filling the room with an air of menace. I wanted to scream, but the cloth in my mouth made it impossible. The man moved toward me with deliberate steps, his teeth yellowed and decayed, a grotesque grin spreading across his face as he took me in.

"You smell... so fucking good," he muttered, his voice low and thick with hunger. His eyes roamed over me, dark and predatory. 

"A little taste won't hurt..." His words sent a shiver through me, a wave of dread flooding my veins.

The man’s eyes gleamed with a twisted hunger as he stepped closer, the scent of decay clinging to him. Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back painfully. A gasp caught in my throat, as he forced me against the cold, unforgiving wall. His grip was unrelenting, the roughness of his fingers pulling at my scalp.

He didn't waste a moment, his hands roaming down my body with unsettling ease, lifting my dress with a careless disregard for the delicate fabric or my fragile dignity. His touch was coarse and possessive, his fingers grazing the soft, sensitive skin of my inner thighs with an ungentle urgency. As his hands explored me, his fingers delved deeper, tracing the curves of my legs with an intimacy that made my skin crawl.

His touch grew more insistent, more forceful. I tried to squirm away from his invasive grasp, but his grip on my hair tightened, holding me in place like a vice. The pain shot through my scalp as he pulled my head back, exposing my neck to his ravenous gaze.

His breath was hot on my neck as he murmured, “A few drops.....” His lips curled into a grotesque grin as his hand continued to roam, caressing the curve of my waist roughly.

But just as his fingers brushed the waistband of my pants, a voice cut through the suffocating tension. 

“That’s enough, Salvatore.”

The man, Salvatore, paused, a low growl escaping his throat as he turned toward the voice. 

The newcomer was another figure, towering but more composed, his dark eyes narrowed with warning. 

“You don’t want to do this,” the man said, his tone commanding. “Frankie won’t stand for it.”

Salvatore sneered, his grip tightening around my hair. 

“A few drops won’t hurt,” he muttered again, ignoring the warning. His fingers continued their trek upwards, determined to ignore the threat hanging in the air.

The second man’s gaze flickered with a dangerous edge. “Stop,” he warned again, his tone sharper this time, but Salvatore only laughed, pulling me closer with a force that made my heart race.

The door burst open, slamming against the wall with a force that made the room tremble. A tall, broad-shouldered man in an expensive suit strode in, his cold gaze locking onto me. I had never seen him before, but the weight of his presence sent a fresh wave of dread through me.

Before I could react, the man who had been on me was ripped away like he was nothing more than a rag doll. He flew across the room, crashing into the wall with a sickening thud. A pained groan escaped his lips, but the man in the suit didn’t even flinch. He simply straightened his cuffs and turned his attention back to me.

His voice was smooth and controlled but laced with menace. 

“Take him and deal with him. He knew the rules. Now he’ll pay for breaking them.”

Two men stepped forward, dragging the whimpering brute out of the room. He didn’t even try to fight back. Whatever fate awaited him, he knew it was worse than anything he had planned for me.

The man in the suit exhaled sharply before finally offering a slow, smug smile. 

“So, you’re awake. Good.” He stroked his neatly trimmed beard, eyes raking over me like I was nothing more than merchandise. A shiver of revulsion crawled down my spine.

“I’m Frankie,” he continued, tilting his head as if assessing my worth. 

You’ll fetch a fortune… especially since you’re so young." Frankie’s lips curled into a slow, predatory grin. "But what makes you special—what makes my clients ravenous—is the little rumour I’ve heard." He leaned in, his voice a sickly whisper against my skin. "That you’re untouched."

Clients? My stomach lurched.

Frankie stepped closer, reaching out to brush a strand of my blonde hair between his fingers. He lifted it to his nose and inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut for the briefest moment. Disgust surged through me, and I jerked my head back, snatching my hair from his grip.

He chuckled. “Such a fighter. I like that. And what a pretty name you have… Selene.” He rolled my name off his tongue as it amused him. 

“Don’t worry. Your new master will teach you discipline soon enough.”

He crouched beside me, his long, bony fingers trailing along my thigh, making my skin crawl. 

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he murmured, his voice almost gentle, which only made it worse. 

“My assistants are going to come in and get you ready for tonight’s auction. You’ll do exactly as you’re told.”

I scoffed, narrowing my eyes despite the fear curling in my stomach. 

“A forced makeover for my human trafficking. Tell you what—you can take whatever fancy dress you’ve picked out, roll it up nice and tight, and shove it straight up your fucking ass.”

His hand shot up, tangling in my hair as he yanked my face close to his. The sickly sweet stench of his breath—like rotting fruit mixed with sugar—made my stomach turn. His sharp nose and pointed chin gave him a ferret-like appearance, one that only deepened my revulsion.

“Watch your tongue! There are ways to make you suffer without leaving a single mark,” he whispered, his grip tightening. 

“So I’d behave if I were you. Understand?”

Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to claw, to spit in his face. But I forced myself to nod.

Frankie smirked, clearly pleased with my response. 

“Harry, send Maggie in. Make sure she gets her ready.”

With that, he strode out, leaving the stench of his presence lingering in the room. I exhaled shakily, my hand pressing against my chest as my pulse pounded beneath my fingertips.

How the hell am I going to get out of here?

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