Bite in the Shadow

LUCAS P.O.V.

AS my eyes slowly opened, I was met with the harsh light of the morning sun streaming through the curtains of the motel room. My head throbbed with a punishing headache, and I groaned softly as I tried to sit up on the bed.

Confusion washed over me as he took in my surroundings. The room spun slightly, and I struggled to remember how I had ended up here. Slowly, fragmented memories of the previous night began to surface, but they were hazy and incomplete.

I gingerly stretched my neck, only to wince in pain as my fingers brushed against a sore spot. As I made my way to the bathroom mirror, I noticed a strange mark on my neck, a small but distinct bite mark. Shock and confusion surged through him, adding to his already growing unease.

Questions swirled in my mind as I gently touched the mark, the reality of it sending a shiver down my spine. i tried to recall the events of the night before, but my memories remained stubbornly unclear.

"Come on try to remember it..." I thought of myself as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, my fingers gently tracing the bite mark on my neck. Frustration simmered beneath the surface as I tried to recall the events of the previous night, only to find my memories shrouded in a haze of alcohol and confusion.

"What the hell happened?" I muttered to myself, my voice tinged with annoyance. I cursed under my breath, frustration mounting as I realized I couldn't quite remember how I ended up with a bite mark on his neck and how did I got here inside the motel room.

As I stood in the bathroom, a chime from my phone broke the quiet of the room. I picked it up to see a call from my girlfriend, a pang of guilt hitting me as I realized I hadn't responded to her messages last night.

"Hey," I answered, my voice groggy from sleep and the lingering effects of the night before. "I'm sorry I didn't respond, I had a few drinks with Max and must have passed out."

Sure, let's give his girlfriend a concerned tone when she replies on the phone:

My girlfriend responded with a hint of worry in her voice. "I was worried about you. I tried calling and texting, but you didn't answer. Are you okay?"

I sighed, feeling a pang of guilt for causing her concern. I assured her, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had one too many drinks last night. Sorry for not letting you know."

She questioned further, "Where are you right now? Is Max with you?"

I hesitated for a moment, glancing at myself in the mirror, the bite mark still visible on my neck. I decided to brush it off for now and answered, "I'm at a motel room. Max dropped me off here last night. I was too drunk to get home."

I continued explaining my situation to my girlfriend, giving her the information I knew. I left out the bite mark on me neck, not wanting to cause her further worry right away.

As I navigated the call, a gnawing sense of uncertainty crept into my mind. I had vague memories of the previous night's events, but one thing I couldn't recall was who had brought me to the motel room.

"Stay safe, Lucas, see you later." She said with a soft voice as I hung up the call with my girlfriend, I quickly checked the time and was alarmed to find that I was late for class. With a curse, I glanced around the motel room, realizing I had no time to change out of his rumpled clothes.

"Damn it," I muttered to myself, hastily gathering my belongings. "I'm going to be late for class, and I look like a mess. This day is starting off great."

I stormed into the classroom, disheveled and a few minutes late, only to find Professor Thompson already engaged in a discussion with the rest of the class. The professor's stern gaze met my apologetic expression, and a sense of unease settled over me.

As I quietly took my seat, I caught snippets of the lecture, trying my best to catch up with the ongoing lesson. My mind, still reeling from the events of the previous night, struggled to stay focused on the subject matter.

Professor Thompson, standing at the front of the classroom, noticed my late arrival and disheveled state. As the class continued, he approached my desk with a feigned concern. "Mr. Miller," he began, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "I'm glad to see you could finally join us. Where have you been? You look a bit worse for wear."

I hesitantly met professor Thompson's gaze, unable to avoid the question. I nervously stuttered as I made up a story on the spot. "Umm, I had a...family emergency last night," I said, my voice faltering. "I had to rush to my parents' house, and I couldn't get a chance to change or anything."

Although I struggled to maintain eye contact, I hoped professor Thompson would buy the lie and move on.

Professor Thompson nodded understandingly and flashed a quick smile in my direction, before returning to the front of the class. Without a word, he turned back to the whiteboard and resumed the lecture, leaving me to breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that my tardy arrival and hastily made-up excuse had not drawn further attention.

After enduring the intense classes, I sought out Max during lunchtime, desperate for some normalcy in my chaotic day. I found Max sitting at a table, munching on a sandwich.

With a groan, I slumped into the seat across from my friend and started venting. "I can't believe my morning. I overslept, got here late, and now my day's all messed up. What's the point anyway? I feel like crap."

As Max snickered at my misfortune, I couldn't help but feel annoyed. I retorted, "Oh, it's so funny to you, isn't it? My day turning into a dumpster fire!"

In a moment of pure frustration, I playfully hit Max on the back of his head, causing him to slump forward and collide with the table. Max, clearly amused, couldn't help but burst into laughter, his earlier snickering becoming full-blown guffaws.

I rolled my eyes at Max's amusement, shaking his head in mock irritation. "You're enjoying this a bit too much, weirdo," I muttered, struggling to hide a small smirk. "I swear, sometimes I wonder why I even bother being friends with a weirdo like you." Despite my protestations, I couldn't help but find a hint of amusement in Max's reaction, my frustration easing a bit in the midst of my friend's laughter.

Max, still chuckling from before, noticed the bite mark on my neck. He grinned mischievously and teased, "Heh, looks like a big ol' mosquito got you there. Must've been hungry!"

My frustration morphing into a playful retort, grabbed a nearby sandwich and shoved it into Max's mouth, silencing his laughter with a mouthful of food. Max sputtered and coughed, choking momentarily on the sudden onslaught of sandwich.

Max eventually managed to stop coughing, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he regained his composure. He swallowed the bite of sandwich in his mouth and retorted, "Thanks a lot for that, Lucas. Real mature."

I couldn't help but smirk, shrugging nonchalantly. "What, you can mock my misfortune but you can't handle a little sandwich surprise? Seems fair to me."

As the moment of banter passed, Max and I shifted our attention to a topic that had recently become a topic of concern. "So, have you heard about the crime scene that popped up last night?" Max asked, his expression becoming serious.

"Not that again..." Max, picking up on my impatience, gently responded, "Hey, I know you're not a fan of the topic, but maybe we should take it seriously this time."

My eyes rolled back, clearly not interested in the subject. "It's just too gruesome," I replied, my voice tinged with a hint of disgust. "I get it, crime happens, but dwelling on the details doesn't change anything."

I, reluctantly sitting back down, cast a curious glance at Max. "What happened last night anyway?" I asked. "And how did I end up in a motel room? I don't remember anything after those drinks with you."

Max, his shrug suggesting he didn't have all the answers, replied, "Honestly, man, I don't know. We had a few drinks, and after that, it's all a bit hazy."

His lack of recollection didn't offer much reassurance, leaving me pondering the puzzle of my own actions. I sighed, scratching my head in confusion.

I abruptly stood up once more, a sense of unease washing over me as I thought I saw a glimpse of rofessor Thompson standing nearby. I blinked my eyes, but as soon as I did, the figure disappeared, leaving me staring into empty space. My eyes widened in surprise, my heart rate quickening as I strained to catch another glimpse of the professor.

I stood there, still staring at the spot where I thought I saw Ethan. Just as I was about to dismiss it as a trick of the light, a voice broke through the tense silence, coming from right behind him.

"Mr. Miller," professor Thompson all-too-familiar voice echoed, causing me and Max to flinch in shock. I spun around, meeting the professor's stern gaze.

I stood there, my heart racing from the sudden appearance of professor Thompson. The professor's presence seemed to cast a shadow over the previous playful moments. Feeling both confused and somewhat scared, I couldn't shake off the image of the professor looming over me.

With a trembling voice, I gathered my courage and responded, "Professor Thompson, what can I do for you?"

Professor Thompson expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "Meet me after class today in my office. We need to discuss your recent behavior."