Title: "UnderLight Sanctuary"

A steady thrum pulsed beneath Lila’s hands, echoing through the thick glass of the bottles she arranged behind her bar. Neon light swirled across the marble counter, painting rippling oil slicks that reminded her of monsters lurking in deep waters. She found comfort in the commotion—in the laughter, the clatter of ice, the constant rhythm of dance beats. It drowned out her own thoughts. She wiped condensation from a highball and nodded to Maddy, her bartender-in-training, just as the door swung open and a gust of humid Chicago air swept through the club.

The girl who entered was impossibly slight—a sliver of shadow in the chaos. Clad in a plain black dress, she seemed to shrink into herself, flinching from the barrage of music and the jostle of bodies on the dance floor. Her eyes scanned the room, pupils wide, antique and glassy as marbles. Her skin was kissed by no sun, moon-pale. The sight hammered an unspoken word into Lila’s mind: vampire.

Not the first she’d seen since she’d taken over the UnderLight Lounge, but something about this girl set her nerves jangling. Vampires usually carried themselves with a slick bravado, relishing the edge their predatory grace gave them over mortals. This girl looked brittle—desperate. She caught Lila’s gaze and held it, unblinking; the stare of a starving animal.

For a full minute, Lila’s heart thundered louder than the club’s bass. Too young, she thought, too lost. But the thing was, nobody survived in this city unless they learned how to spot danger first. Lila would be damned if she let someone get hurt on her watch, or worse—if the council heard she’d let some newborn run wild in her club.

She nodded at Maddy, murmuring, “Hold the fort,” before coming around the bar, moving smoothly as she could. Her wrist slid to the holster sewn into her dress: not for a weapon, but a small phial of blessed salt—just in case.

When Lila reached the girl, she saw a tremor in her jaw. Her lips, parted, revealed a hint of fang. She didn’t resist when Lila took her arm, just blinked with silent gratitude, mouth pressed shut.

“Emergency exit. No questions,” Lila whispered, leading her past the crowded floor. Nobody noticed the two of them; everyone was drowning in cheap gin and pop anthems. She dragged the vampire down a hallway papered with fading concert posters, past the staff room and into her cramped office, slamming the door behind them.

The girl hunched, hands balled in stiff fists. Lila stared her down, forcing her voice through the strange, syrupy tension in the air. “What’s your name?”

Silence.

“I can help,” Lila tried again, softer. “But only if you tell me what you need.”

A long breath hissed from the girl’s teeth, and her eyes darted to the corners of the room, as if searching for escape. She finally whispered, “Sera.”

The fragility in her voice brought something maternal and furious out of Lila. Sera looked about seventeen, though she knew enough about vampires to know that meant nothing. “How long since you fed?” Lila asked quietly.

Sera’s shoulders shook. “Two days. I couldn’t—I thought—I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Please.”

“Sit down before you faint.” Lila rummaged through her desk drawer. She knew some of the regulars—friends-of-the-night, as she called them—kept donor vials in the club’s cold storage for emergencies. Officially, she wasn’t supposed to facilitate, not with the watchful eyes of the city council on her. But unofficially? Lila knew it was safer to break a few rules than to clean up a massacre.

She handed Sera a small plastic pouch with a spout. “It’s clean. Sourced from voluntary donors only.” She watched, wary, as the girl ripped it open and drank deeply, the color rising in her cheeks. Her eyes grew almost human for a second.

When she finished, Sera wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

Lila waved it off. “Better?”

Sera nodded but wouldn’t meet her gaze. “You know what I am. You’re not… scared?”

“Club owner’s rule number one: panic later.” Lila managed a smile. “Who turned you?”

The question sent a shudder through Sera. Her eyes flickered toward the one-way mirror gazing onto the alley outside. “His name was Marcus. He left me after. I think… he’s still here. Somewhere.”

Lila’s hands curled into fists. Marcus. She knew the name—an old-world vampire, known both for his charm and his brutal disregard for the uninitiated. If he was using UnderLight as hunting ground, she had a big problem on her hands.

“Listen, Sera.” Lila softened her tone. “If he hurt you, he might come looking. I can keep you safe tonight, but afterward… I can make a call. There are people who help girls like you.”

Sera’s expression flickered between hope and disbelief. “Why?” she whispered. “Why would you help me?”

Lila pressed her lips together, the ghosts of a dozen nights flickering behind her eyes. “Because I’ve seen what happens when nobody helps. And because UnderLight protects its own.”

She handed Sera a faded club flyer, on the back of which she’d scrawled a phone number. “If anyone gives you trouble, you call that.”

A sharp rap interrupted—the back door, someone demanding entry. Lila’s stomach dropped. What if it was Marcus, tracking his failed fledgling? She motioned for Sera to hide behind the battered metal file cabinet. The girl crouched, flat against the wall, eyes huge.

Lila peeled open the door, leaving her body as a barrier. Maddy stood there, wide-eyed.

“There’s a guy out front asking for a Sera. Says he’s her… Her guardian?”

Lila froze. She didn’t need to ask. Marcus.

Lila’s mind worked furiously. She couldn’t let Marcus tear through her club, nor could she let him take fledglings whenever he wished. It was time to send a message—the UnderLight was not prey. She sent Maddy back to the bar and locked the office tight. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number she hadn’t called in a long time:

“Alex? I need you and the council tonight. Bring backup.”

From the alley, a shadow slid past the mirror, shoulders hunched, face hooded. Sera whimpered softly.

Lila crouched beside her, handing her another vial. “He won’t find you tonight,” she promised. “But if you want to stop running, you’ll have to fight.”

Sera met her gaze, hesitant but braver. “I don’t want to be a monster.”

“We choose what we become,” Lila murmured, thinking not just of vampires but every soul who’d wandered lost into her club.

The neon battles on, and beyond the walls of UnderLight, the city teemed with creatures who hid in plain sight. But for one night, in a cramped office behind a nightclub bar, a frightened girl had found sanctuary. Tomorrow, the hunt would begin in earnest—Lila knew she’d made powerful enemies. She’d face them with teeth bared and her own pack behind her.

Because if there was one rule Lila held above all others, it was this: monsters didn’t run this place. She did.

And under her watch, even the hungry could hope for a second chance.

This story was generated by user ziggo.zane with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.

Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.

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