Being watched

Tracy felt the hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end. She couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched as she came back from work this evening. She looked around, and finding no one paying ant particular attention to her, resumed walking. Still the feeling lingered. She quickly took a turn bent around a corner and looked around. Sure enough, there was a figure, apparently male, walking towards her. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and a face cap. From the distance, it looked like he was wearing a jacket too. "What a weird combination", she thought, then felt the cold finger of fear trace her spine. This is Nigeria, in the evening, but Nigeria nonetheless. Who dresses like this in a country known for its hot weather? She resumed her walk, but at an accelerated pace. She didn't want to wait to find out if her​ fears were unfounded or not.
She got home and managed to convince herself that she had let her imagination get ahead of her. Maybe he wasn't following her. He could have just been an overseas returnee still hung over on hoodies or something.
The feeling of being watched continued for the next couple of months but everytime she checked, no one was paying attention to her and even sometimes she was alone in her apartment. She was fast becoming a paranoid old maid.
   Traffic was always so heavy on Fridays but it was raining this late evening, making the traffic that much worse. It was just her luck to have left the office later than usual and she finally got to her bus stop by 10pm. She couldn't find tricycles and motorcycles as the rains always made them scarce, so she had to walk the short distance to her house. She took the longer, soldom used route as the shorter one was always flooded when it rained. She was just two turns from her house when a figure suddenly appeared in front of her. He must have walked towards her but she had no recollection of it. She looked around, and found two other people on the road, engrossed in arguing about the roads condition in Nigeria, so she tried to be nonchalant about it and made to move past him, but his arm sneaked out and suddenly, she was pinned to a wall by the side, her umbrella, forgotten by her feet. To a passerby, they looked like lovers stealing kisses under the cloak of the night but Tracy was being drained of blood. It happened so fast, she didn't have time to struggle, and it felt like her limbs were paralyzed.
"So, there are vampires in Lagos", she thought dazed.
It wasn't painful as she thought it would be, nor was it pleasurable as the movies portrayed it to be. It was just....there. The initial pain as the skin was being pierced, and then, ....the feeling of water tickling down ones skin except, it felt like it was tickling towards the point at the base of her neck where the strange man was draining her​ of life.
"I should have lived more, instead of being so frugal. I should have bought more clothes, more shoes, partied a little more instead of dying like this. And I just renewed my rent" Tracy thought as she lost consciousness.

                 *                   *                   *
   Tracy opened her door and went straight​ to the fridge to get water. The rain had finally stopped. Her neck was sore, her muscles ached, she needed a massage. She was so tired she didn't even know how she got home.  She was so happy tomorrow was a Saturday, she could sleep in. She rotated her neck and shoulders to ease her sore neck and muscles. She took a gulp of water.
  "Delicious".
The word spoken with a husky male voice darted in and out of her memory. She couldn't place the voice o where she had heard it. She shrugged and went into her bedroom to prepare for bed. She went about her nighttime routine, unaware of the figure in the shadows, as he watched her. He was the owner of the voice, who had uttered the word as he fed from her.