The Masquerade Ball

Wrote this one for halloween but only just finished re editing!

Time to play at being human, its fun once in a while and the Halloween season is the perfect opportunity. One of my favoured few has come up trumps, acquired me two tickets to a society bash that is being held on Alcatraz tonight, a charity masquerade ball. All the attendees will be splashing their cash around in aid of childhood leukaemia, I could be blasé about that but there are still shreds of humanity in me somewhere and if shindigs like this can help to alleviate suffering then well and good.

What mashes my brain though is the high and mighty who think that coming along to a drunken revel and throwing their money around allows them to behave like prize a-holes day to day. I’m not saying that everyone from “society” is like that, but I’ve met plenty of them that are, maybe tonight I can scare a few extra charity $ out of them without having to use tax breaks as an incentive.

First things first, who to take and what to wear? The first question is really a no brainer, Calli is my first and last choice, assuming that she doesn’t turn me down flat. It’s fair to say that we have been spending too much time with each other the last couple of weeks, but I haven’t been this smitten since I turned, having her around reminds me what it was to be human, passion, lust, dare I think of love? It’s opening me up for a lot of hurt down the line, but right now nothing else matters to me but her.

Mobile telephony is an amazing thing, signal is 3 bars strong in my coffin, I bark her name and hear my phone dialling her number, two rings and she picks up, her voice is alert, sultry, as always my heart quickens at the sound of it “Hey babe what do I need to know?” I steady my voice to reply, best to at least sound in control right? “Hi gorgeous, if you are up for putting on your party frock tonight I’ve got a couple of tickets to the ball in the bay, you fancy it?”

She barely hesitates, which serves to still my fluttering heart “Sure, meet you at the pier, what time does our boat leave?” the thought of the boat terrifies me, I’m sure she knows it too, most of us have trouble with running water, me I have trouble with water period, but the short crossing across the bay should be easy, I know, I’m just trying to reassure myself! “It leaves at 9, so lets say 8-45, oh and it’s masquerade, so masks are mandatory ok.” She’s already hanging up with just a parting “Mwuah” down the line, I imagine her lips forming the shape and don’t try to stop the lascivious smile that starts creeping across my face

Ok, now that I’ve got the hottest date in town I need to dress to kill, the invites say evening wear but the masquerade status will allow me to stretch the boundaries a bit, choices, choices… The first thing that springs to mind is my formal black suit, on the surface it looks perfectly respectable, mandarin collar riding high up my neck means I can get away without a tie, tight white t-shirt hidden underneath will have all the flustered females trying to cop a feel of a bicep or a pec as the evening wears on, I grin at that thought, wondering briefly how Calli and all the men present will react if I let the mesmer cast it’s spell over all of the female party goers?

I’ll need a mask too of course, the obvious choice is the wide leather eye mask, it covers my face from my eye brows down to the tops of my cheeks with a sharp V of leather covering all but the bottom of my nose. It will serve to be slightly more menacing than the harlequin affairs that most people will be wearing.

Finally I need to think about hair and decoration, sometimes I think I’m worse than a woman the way I fret over my appearance but I do so love to make an entrance! I slick down my giveaway fair locks and rifle through a selection of wigs, I could of course just use the mesmer to make myself appear as pretty much anything or anyone I choose, but Calli is the one I’m trying to impress and I have to concentrate hard for glamours to have any effect on her at all, far easier to use traditional methods. The wig I select is short and dark, flecked with silver at the temples to add a bit of age and distinction, ha if only people knew how old I really am!

The finishing touch will be some body art, for that I need a minion and I know just the guy, he will have to come to me if I want it done before full dark but he is very much under my spell, I call him to mind, brining him into sharp focus, concentrating on his features, the way he walks, the way his lips move as he talks, breathing in the way he smells and finally concentrating on the way his eyes swam and then glazed over the first time he looked directly into mine. Suddenly I am looking through those eyes, seeing what he is seeing, hearing what he hears, I let my voice boom through his mind “Neil, come to me, I need your talents, come and earn my pleasure” it pleases me that he doesn’t even try to resist, no struggle against the mental command, I feel a smile flick across his lips and hear words spill from his mouth. “Sorry guys, I just remembered somewhere I have to be urgently” He stands up and starts packing the tools of his trade into a holdall as I let my hold on his mind diminish…

Neil is an excellent body artist, usually employed by the film industry or corporations for promotional work, I was lucky enough to bump into him when I was down in New Orleans for Mardi Gras a couple of years ago, not as much fun as it used to be but a great place to meet the right sort of people. He comes from the UK originally but at my behest has settled more or less full time on the West Coast now, my contacts mean he gets plenty of work in the film industry, his talents are useful to me and the fact that he utterly adores me makes control of him that much easier.

I know it will take him about an hour to get to me so time to tidy myself up in a hot deep bath.. What! Vampires aren’t allowed to immerse themselves in hot water now? Not allowed to anoint our bodies with fragrant oils and to lay back, glowing faintly amidst the steamy air? I’ll admit I don’t do showers, I consider them to be “running”, whilst a bath has simply been “run” yeah I know, it’s weak but I think most of our frailties are based on belief, some sort of voodoo nonsense, that if we think it’s true then it has power over us.

I lay there stewing slightly, enjoying the sensation of running my hands over my body, the light film of oil from the water easing their passage. I tense and then relax my muscles as my hands pass, probing my fingers into any knots that linger. As a race we have a supreme amount of control over how our bodies appear to others, either using glamours and illusions to mask imperfections or effect disguises, or if we really put our minds to it, can by force of will change the actual underlying physical attribute, increasing muscle mass here, stretch a limb or straighten a tooth there. How else do you imagine that most of us manage to appear so beautiful, no trick of fate there I think you’ll find.

The one thing that I seem to have no control over is as it would be for all males, mortal and vampires alike, as my hands run across my skin I find my mind wandering, my eyes close and in my imagination the hands on my body are Calli’s not my own. I feel the rush of blood that I cannot control, a surge causing me to swell, I allow my hands to wander there with my mind, grasping the heft of my cock as it grows, slowly, methodically stroking myself until fully erect. My hands are Calli’s hands now, is she in my head? Controlling me as easily as I dominate those who have looked into my eyes, or am I simply wishing she were. There is no urgency to my movements, no desire to speed myself to orgasm, just a slow, luxuriant pleasure in this fantasy. It is only hearing the front door overhead scrape open that shakes me from my revelry…

I leap from the tub, if tub is what you could call it, a long marble trough that sits in the middle of the large basement room, very decadent, but I do like my pleasures, my skin is aglow from the heat of the water and the light sheen of oil still clinging to it. I'm instantly alert, it's only been about 20 minutes since I spoke to Neil, surely he couldn't be here yet, but the door opening doesn't sound forced.

I move silently across the room to hug the shadows at the base of the stairs, the way the doors are aligned at the top mean that the first has to shut before the second can be opened, ensuring that no daylight, however weak at this time of year will spill down into my lair. Slowly the inner door creaks open, and a stocky figure starts padding down the stairs, Neil! I let myself relax and move back to the centre of the room.

“Dressed to impress I see” Neil tries hard not to let camp creep into his voice, but he just can't help himself sometimes “You took your time” I counter, with a hint of humour in my voice “Seeing as you are here why don't you make yourself useful and clean me off” I toss him my prized antique bronze scraper, the dealer who sold it to me swore blind that it had seen use as far back as ancient Rome, I like to think that in the past it was used to scrape the gladiators clean before they entered the arena, but it probably belonged to some tubby merchant who insisted on his nubile young slaves giving him a rub down.

Neil goes to work a little too eagerly, humming tunelessly as he scrapes the oil from my skin, leaving it feelings slightly raw, dry and tingling. “So what do you have in mind art-wise? Halloween party I'm guessing” I'd given it a bit of thought, but know full well that he is the creative one “I was considering something a bit George Clooney, dusk till dawn, tattoo coming up from the left wrist to just peep out over the collar of my jacket on my neck, what do you think?” he takes a step back and tries to picture something, or maybe he is just admiring my still naked form.

Eventually he speaks “OK, the tribal tat that GC had was pretty bland, I'm thinking crows, so either we do a Celtic knot-work crow and crane wending up around your arm, those two together represent the eternal struggle between good and evil, which is nice... or my other idea is to have one big crow made up of a murder of smaller ones, flying up your arm, wings spreading out over your shoulder with it's head coming up your neck, beak pecking at a couple of little puncture wounds just under your jawline” Now you can see why I love Neil, the guy is a genius, I just nod dumbly for a couple of seconds before I realise he is waiting for me to tell him what I want “Yep, the murder sounds perfect Neil”

Without hesitation he sets to work, base layers on first with a sponge, then detail work with an airbrush, it takes him over an hour from start to finish but the result was well worth standing naked in my basement for, by the time he is done you couldn't tell that it's not a real tattoo, the paints he uses shouldn't wear off for a couple of days so all I need to do now is pull my clothes on. I give Neil a hug by way of thank you, of course I cannot resist driving my fangs into his neck, draining just a mouthful of blood, just an appetiser for the night ahead, as I drink his breathing quickens and he stiffens in my arms, some boys just love to be dominated...

After Neil has departed I get myself together, and head for the bay, I'm about 20 minutes brisk walk away, I could call for a car but the walk will heighten my sense of anticipation of the evening ahead and will allow me to enjoy a slow approach, useful to weigh up the situation.

My timing is good, it's about ten minutes to nine as I hit the jetty, a crowd is milling about the gangplank leading on to a sleek looking ferry, their warm breath clouding the air around them in the half light provided by the stars and the occasional lamppost. Within seconds my eyes alight upon her and try as I might I cannot tear them away, now I notice that the gaze of most of the other men waiting for the boat are having the same issue, a 'cat who got the cream' grin spreads cheekily across my face at the thought that my date is the one that every man there wishes were his tonight.

I stop in my tracks to savour her a moment longer, tonight she is dressed for pleasure, not purpose and judging by the smile on her deep red lips Calli is enjoying the effect that her appearance is having on the crowd. She is wearing a full length, strapless evening gown, deep red velvet or at least I think so from this distance, it hugs her figure perfectly, accentuating the feminine hourglass that she presents without exaggerating it. Her shoulders and neck are invitingly bare, her hair must be pinned up, is piled the right word? It's rare that I get to feast my eyes on the back of her neck and I find it deeply sexual and arousing, an area that is usually covered by her flowing hair, laid bare, revealed, like a guilty secret..

The dress sweeps down beautifully to her ankles, I can just make out sharply pointed heels but there is no hint of discomfort or difficulty walking as she gracefully saunters amongst the crowd, is that her vampiric balance or just a womanly trait I wonder?

I stride purposefully along the jetty now, trying hard not to obviously enjoy the moment that I close with her, slip my arm through hers and allow my lips to brush her cheek, just below the tiny domino mask that can only be held on by glue or force of will “You look.... amazing” the pause was not for effect, for once I truly was at a loss how to describe, even amazing doesn't feel like it is doing her justice, truly I am in awe of this beautiful creature.

“You are looking pretty good yourself” she delivers her line dead pan, but I can feel her eyes lingering here and there, boring into me, a feeling that I could grow accustomed to. “Onward then beautiful Calli, an evening of mischief and mayhem awaits us on the rock” I steer us toward the waiting boat, gripping her arm slightly more firmly as we step across the gangplank and find our seats aboard.

The boat trip is mercifully short, the cabin packed as it is with part goers. The temptation to cut loose and start feeding upon them is immense, causing me the shiver with anticipation, nowhere for them to run, their screams inciting panic throughout the craft. I shake my head to clear it of the fantasy, Calli’s eyes are boring into me, as if she can sense my thoughts, her hand is resting on my forearm, ready to restrain me if need be, we are here to party, pretend to be human for just one night.

The mixture of costumes catches my attention, perhaps 50% have gone for the safe evening wear option, penguin suits and posh frocks, the rest are an assortment of fancy dress, werewolves, ghouls, Frankenstein’s monster and of course plenty of vampires, most are professionally made, expensively acquired for tonight’s revels, our hosts for the evening introduce themselves as the boat pulls alongside the dock

“Hi I’m Kelly and this is Jorg, first of all a big thank you for making it tonight, may I say how fabulous you are all looking” This delivered in that slightly smarmy PR manner that only a person employed for their perfect bone structure seems to manage. “Tonight’s festivities will be taking place in the largest of the buildings on the island, the main cell block, we ask that for your own safety you only visit the other buildings or outer areas with one of our organised events” Jorg takes over now, it would be easiest to describe him as a viking, long blonde hair, about 6’3” tall with the sort of shoulders designed to swing a big axe “The rock is a safe place as long as we treat it sensible ok, everyone is here to have a good time, so leave your wellbeing to us, but please just do as we say at all times. As we dock there is a short but steep walk up to the main building, equivalent to say climbing the stairs in a 13 story block, if you don’t feel able to make that then there are limited spaces in transports but we’d love you to join our torchlight procession, which will look amazing from back on shore”

I don’t doubt what he says, 250 flaming torches wending their way up the hill will look like a huge flaming snake in the distance, they hand each of us a stick, made from some kind of rough cloth that has been dipped in wax, as we step onto the shore, up ahead there is a guttering brazier that people are pausing to light their torches in before a smiling photographer gets couples to pose for mug shots as they walk through the stout gate that leads to the prison compound beyond. We patiently wait our turn, using all of our senses to scan the night, the sea air is chill and a few people in the crowd are muttering about getting a move on but I love the sharp slap of the wind against my skin, causing it to prickle and burn. Suddenly it is our turn, the photographer looks up to frame the shot and his jaw drops slightly, it is a joy to see him visibly staggered by our overwhelming beauty, we are forcing the issue by surrounding ourselves with glamours, so much so that it must be almost painful for him to look directly at us. After a couple of seconds he shakes his head slightly as he realises he is staring, Calli smiles widely at him now, capturing him completely “Anyway you want us sweetie?” his cheeks reddens as all sorts of things must shoot through his mind “uh, uhm, just er stand against the wall there please” we back up, Calli leans casually back against the wall and produces two cigarettes from somewhere, placing them between her lips and lighting them from her torch in one fluid movement, she inhales in one deep smooth breath that seems to stretch on for minutes before lowering her hands, leaving the glowing brands clenched between her teeth, fangs bared.

I reach across and pluck one lightly from her mouth before placing it in my own, the first taste is her, before I breathe deep and let the smoke fill my lungs, let the rush fly through my head to be replaced by that mellow fuzzy, first smoke of the day glow.

Our happy snapper starts clicking away, doesn’t seem to want to stop at the obligatory three or four shots, eventually we tire of posing for him and move on through the gate, leaving the queue behind us wondering quite what just happened. As we stride up the hill we can hear jangling guitar music, dis-concordant strains, it is hard to make out but as we move towards the open double doors it is clearly a tribute band doing a very passable cover of Passion of Lovers, we pause at the threshold, taking a moment to extinguish our cigarettes and dispose of our torches, I turn to embrace Calli, delivering a languidly slow kiss upon her upturned lips, looking deep into her eyes. Eventually one of our hosts comes to the door and asks if we won’t come in, thus invited we enter the party..

From the outside this place is dour and imposing, the buildings are crumbling, beaten down by the relentless exposure to the elements, inside I was expecting it to be much the same but the place has been transformed, presumably for the party, it’s all cosmetic of course but the impact is impressive.

We get led through an ante chamber and into what must have been the main chamber; a long corridor runs down the center of the room, walls of cells towering up above us each side with metal gantries looming overhead, long bench tables have been laid down the middle of the free space, groaning under the weight of food and decoration spread across them. A wooden dance floor has been laid in the middle of the span of tables with spotlights focussed from guard points on the gantry. The band appear to be situated in individual cells on the 3rd level at the end of the room, banks of coffin shaped speakers filling the cells on that wall and scattered throughout the chamber at random

The décor is deliciously dark, purple velvet draped everywhere, coffins, corpses swinging, hanging from the ceiling high overhead, jack o lanterns provide a shadowy malignant light. There are entertainers mingling amongst the guests, ghoulish jugglers tossing severed limbs or bloody axes, svelte zombie dancers, all of the serving staff are goblinesque, crouched and subservient, running drinks and plates of food to expectant revellers. The band are still bashing out Bahaus covers and doing a decent job of it, I’m not sure that the music is to everyone’s liking but Calli and I are all over it, she drags me to the floor and we are soon swaying around infused with true gothic angst, more than happy to be the focus of everyone’s attention, beautiful and stylish enough to carry it off. One of the countless benefits of being undead is no fear, no fear of failure, no fear of being ridiculed, just a suffusion of confidence, which is all you really need to carry anything off dead or alive, do everything with style and people will envy and love you for it in equal measure.

The evening is going to plan; Calli and I split up occasionally to put ourselves about amongst the crowd, they can’t help but fall under our spell, anyone who dares to makes eye contact with me is struck with the cold dread that they are in over their depth, knowing with grim certainty that it is already too late, they are mine. Chances are if they wake up in the morning with twin puncture wounds in their neck they’ll just think that some amorous wannabe vamp got over excited with the plastic fangs they were wearing. This is the perfect opportunity to drink our fill without draining people dry; it’s also a great chance to put some people with influence in the city into our thrall with little real effort.

I am tiring rapidly of the fawning attention of the 2 lithe dancers that I seem to have acquired; people might think that to be the object of desire of such beautiful creatures would be fabulous, but I know that it’s not truly me that they want, it’s the aura of power that radiates outward that they are drawn to, helpless as moths flitting about a naked light bulb, the only person that I’m truly interested in is the one that has free will where loving me is concerned, I persuade my zombie’s that they want to go and gyrate around a slightly anxious looking guest whilst I start scanning the crowd for my beloved.

It only takes me moments to conclude that she isn’t in the main hall, scanning the gantries above me I sense her more than see her, feel her dark shadow disappear into one of the cells at in the dim distance high above. Not wanting to waste time walking the length of the room to climb the stairs I bunch my legs beneath me and launch at the gantry above me, I leap from level to level like this, silently and with a minimum of effort, pulling myself up over the barrier surrounding the level and vaulting quietly to the walkway that runs along the outside of the dingy cells, each of these rooms can be little more than 6 x 8, many of the barred doors are pulled shut, presumably to deter revellers from using these more secluded chambers for anything untoward, the organisers could probably do without headlines "Society Dilettante' knocked up in machine gun Kelly's cell", but at the far end of the gantry I can make out Calli's silhouette standing in the doorway. I move forward but each step suddenly feels leaden, a cold dread seeps out of that open cell toward me, an almost physical entity pushing me backward, filling me with an unknown, unseen terror. I can see now as I force myself on, that her hands are gripped tight around bars to her sides, it is taking every ounce of resolve that she possesses not to turn and flee toward me, the same resolve that I am trying to summon just to continue toward her.
For what seems like an eternity this internal struggle goes on, it can take me no more than 30 slow slow seconds to cross the distance in reality but wherever I am now it does not feel like reality, as I step forward and push my arm around her waist I am transported, suddenly the prison is filled with light, with the stench of hundreds of men living day to day in these insanitary holes in the rock, There is little sound, no conversation, just the clattering of boots along the gantry as a guard clad in a stiff woollen uniform walks close behind the two of us, seeming to ignore our presence. The cell before us is inhabited now, a man, if you can call him that is squatting on the bed, staring intently at us, his features are demonic, twisted, tormented, his eyes an impenetrable black. Somewhere in the distance I hear the faintest chords crying to me through the ether, slow deliberate bass, repetitive drumbeats, and underneath it strains of jangling guitar, "The bats have left the bell tower, The victims have been bled, Red velvet lines the black box, Bela Lugosi's dead, Undead undead undead" the lyrics seem to be coming from another world but they are spilling out of that evil fanged mouth, smiling wide and wicked at us now, almost hungrily.

"You two are a long long way from home, shouldn't be here, not tonight, tonight is my feast, they have woken me, given me a taste for life again, I will eat them all, feed on their souls" I don't know what this thing is, this shade, don't know who he was or what he did, but he radiates pure evil now, his ashed pallid skin is nothing akin to the silky alabaster of our perfect bloodless flesh, it is somehow waxy, pocked and seeming to distort with every word, his eyes bore into me, promoting once more the feeling of helpless terror.

Suddenly it roars and as it roars it leaps from that bunk, pushing through and past we two as if we didn't exist at all, behind us, below us, there is a scream, then multiple screams, we turn as one to see the creature amongst them now, those close are bathed in the mindless terror that his presence seems to promote, some further back are looking on in wonderment, is this some amazingly realistic part of the evenings entertainment?

The creature now seems to expand, seems to ooze non light, an inky black swelling out from it's centre, concealing it and it's first victim, a pretty thirty something who had been in danger of spilling from her Elvira cut dress all evening, her scream is terrifying, coinciding with the band trying manfully to continue with their number in the face of something that is to unbelievable to be anything but entertainment "Strewn with time's dead flowers Bereft in deathly bloom" We look away from the scene and into one another's eyes, we know what must be done, yes we are cold, killers, often treat the people below as little more than cattle, but whatever is down there cannot be allowed, just cannot be allowed. As one we leap over the low barricade, grasping at protruding metal struts, drapes, hanging corpses to slow our descent. Within a breath we stand outside the circle of darkness, the screams from within have receded, replaced by a dry, sucking, rasp.

The circle retreats and the monster stands before us, more substantial now, his victim is an empty husk at his feet, her dress the only thing that remains. "I told you, not tonight" he waves his hand toward me and a force, a punch, hits my chest, propelling me back across the room and hurling me against the bars of a cell door. Calli drops suddenly as I pull myself together, has dodged his second attack, her right leg snakes out and around, sweeping just above the floor before connecting at the back of the beasts knees, he begins to fall in slow motion, such is the force of her attack that his legs have crumpled beneath him.

Before he impacts though he seems to twist in mid-air, catching himself on all fours before pouncing toward her, huge talons sprouting from his fists, his gaping maw now lined with venomous dripping fangs, Calli hurls herself aside as he lands where she was a heartbeat before, I am flying across the room now, pausing only to wrench a section of the gantry free, swinging it manically toward the creature as I approach. He suffers the blow, the continued blows that I rain upon him with my makeshift club, beating him down to the floor, I bend, breathing short ragged gasps, satisfied that I have finished it. Before y mind can rationialise it the creature is standing before me again, if such a thing could look smug then it does, stares into my eyes and again I know terror "Bela Lugosi's dead" he spits the words at me, his fist driving into my chest, through my chest, trying to grasp at my heart, pull it clear...

Calli is on his back, her fists are hammering into what passes for it's head, her fangs are tearing at it's throat, vainly it tries to shake her off as it seeks to finish me, I am bereft of strength, have fallen to my knees, tears are rolling down my cheeks as I realise that I have known true love and am about to lose it forever. Without warning something slams into the creatures chest, a book, behind it is a man dressed as, dressed as what, Van Helsing, how ironic. The book can only be a bible as the creature is writhing beneath it, the weight of it bearing him down to the floor, pinning him there, Spike still frantically tearing at his throat as that tome seems to melt through his torso, sucking the rest of his corporeal body in beneath it as water might get sucked down through a sink-hole and he is gone.

My breathing is shallow, despite the last minute reprieve I'm not convinced that I can survive the ragged open wound that my chest seems to have become, Calli is gagging, retching up whatever is left of the foul taint of that beast that she consumed in her efforts to save me. I look to our saviour, he is unsure of himself now, knows that he did the right thing but is now losing his grip on what little sanity could survive that ordeal. "I need blood and I need it fast" I croak to him, his eyes lock on to mine, what little power is left within me compels him, dutifully he offers me his wrist, my fangs drive into him but he is strong, does not pull away, refuses even to wince as I draw his crimson nectar hungrily into my mouth. Calli is beside me now, holding her hand over my wound, holding me together in more ways than she imagines, she looks into my eyes, smiles that radiant, ravishing smile of hers "I knew you would show me a good time tonight lover" and I can't help but smile back "Undead undead undead" can that whole encounter have taken less than the running time, I shake my head in disbelief as the band play on.

First Kiss

How many more nights must I endure, the dull ache where once beat my heart, the only passion I feel now is that of young lovers as I tear out their throats, taste it rich within their blood, how did I become so empty.

I am old yes, have seen too much perhaps and now should think not to return to my tomb this night, but alight instead upon some distant eyrie, howl at the moon until it turns to sun, then whither and no more feel this pain, this emptyness.

I wander with no purpose, through the trees, letting the light of the moon cast shadows around me, the creatures of the night, fox, owl, rats even, flee as they feel the chill of my presence approach.

Then she fills my world, sitting under the pale moon I first catch sight of her, can feel her heart beating slowly, can smell the life that she offers me, how I long to feast upon her, her skin almost silver, so perfect, smooth, flawless, her raven hair cascading down her back. In my mind she is calling to me, begging me to feed upon her, but this is a trick of the hunger, I have known it for too long, my constant companion, by any means it will have me feed, she is so young, so perfect, so vital and yet I sense in her a melancholy, some sense of not belonging to this world, why else youd she sit in such a fae place, but to wait for me to come..

I close upon her, soundlessly, each movement etched into my muscle memory, so many times have I stalked prey, I am fluid, graceful as I approach, she has no chance to move as my hands are upon her delicate shoulders, my mouth closing upon her alabaster neck, her skin almost as pale as mine but I sense the blood pumping through her veins, can smell it, a rich reward as my fangs close upon her throat.

I sense no fear in her though, almost a welcome sigh at the sharp bite of pain as I penetrate her flesh and then she fills me, all of her thoughts, all of her memories, her desires, lusts, passions, they flood through me, become part of me.

I could drain this beautiful creature, the hunger demands that I do, but it is not my master, whatever it might think, and she is too precious a flower to devour here, she wants more than to be drained by me, I can feel her fluttering heart cry for more, a kiss, a caress, to touch her as none have done before.

I struggle against the hunger, it rages at me as I deny it, withdraw my fangs from her neck yet still she is weak, my lips are upon hers now, my kiss is no gentle thing but is not forced, just driven, passionate, my hands upon her body, tearing her clothes from her as I allow the hunger to be replaced with a lust that has been lost to me for years, she offers no resistance, assists even, unbuclking my belt and pulling at my trousers with a force that belies her size.

I am upon her then, she grasping at me, her fingers become claws as she rakes at my flesh, I welcome the pain, to me it is pleasure, the sensation a powerful adjunct to the unthought of pleasure as I press myself to her, my rigid shaft is playing against her lips, parting them and running over the moist flesh that lies within, we are both wet with the excitement, I can hold back no longer and slowly, powerfully force my way into her, feel her gasp as she expands to accept my girth, I pull her forward to me and buck, frenzied, bestial, this moment, this passion cannot last long, but we are both panting, sweating, gasping, encompassed by the waves of orgasm that flash between us, through us.

I feel her heart flutter, murmur again, I have taken too much from her, a frail human, I should have restrained myself, must save her, I feel the panic welling within me at the thought of losing one so beautiful, losing her now I have found such a reason to go on, I cannot countance the thought.

Hastily I draw my razor talons across my wrist, hold the bleeding flesh tight against my loves mouth and force her to drink deep of the poison that flows through my veins, she chokes, gags, but I will not let her loose, will not allow her to resist me in this, she must become one with me that together we will dance the danse macabre down the ages.

Weak from the loss I collapse beside her and together we lay, our breathing shallow and troubled, the only sound beyond that is her occaisional retch as her system fights against becomming what she must become to survive.

And then a gasp, she sits up as my blood takes hold of her, she feels it like a drug, coursing through her, her mind swims as the realisation of what she has become, what we have become, lovers, killers, for eternity.

I sit beside her, kiss her, soft but no less passionate than before and then we run, run together, to escape the coming of the dawn.

Heartbeat

I'm breathless as I burst through the door, the stark glare of neon tubes forcing me to shield my eyes, I see her immediately, through the tangle of tubes and wires, please god don't let me be too late.

She looks cold, eyes closed, no rise and fall of her chest, lips tinged with blue, is that just the insane temperature in here or is she, is she?

I look up, eyes following the cables that emerge from the top of her gown, following them to the monitor, it looks like a cliche from a 70's hospital drama, green screen, one flat line, it hasn't moved and it feels like I've been watching it for ever, I feel the terror welling up inside me and I know that I'm too late, wasn't here for her, have missed her and will miss her forever.

Bu-ding! a spike in the line, a shuddering breath from her lips, thank you, thank you whatever god is listening to me this day thank you, I'm on my knees by the side of the bed, her hand, so cold, so very cold is in mine, I hold it to my lips and whisper her name, tell her how much she means to me and that I'm not going to let her go, not like this.

I can hear Damon Albarn singing inside my head,
"Come on, come on, come on, get through it
Come on, come on, come on, loves the greatest thing that we have,
Oh my baby, Oh my baby
Oh why, oh my.

I tell him to fuck off, this is no time for sentimental songs, this is about my hand wrapped around hers an anchor to whatever of her is left in there.

Under all the pain, under all the dull numb nothing, I know that she is still in there, fighting to hang in, maybe just a pinprick of light in a dark dark place, but now I know she's there I can breath again too, can let my heart beat and let the love I feel for her fill my stomach to replace the empty aching, puke inducing nothing that was there before.

All gone a bit quiet

Got called away by work and this and that and the other so not much update wise, I do have at least 3 things on the boil which I hope to post really soon, in the meantime I will offer a piece that I was compelled to write about a friend in need.

Blood Moon Rising pt VII

Would you like to know one of the numerous benefits of being a vampire? No insomnia, none of that tossing and turning as we try and nestle into the warm embrace of sleep, just flick a switch in your head and you might as well be dead, for all intents and purposes you are, you flick off and nothing in hell or earth is going to rouse you until your body has had the rest it needs. Mine, recovering from 6 point blank gun shots is going to need a while, hence my flight to the morgue, 12 hours down the line I'll be good as new and chances are other than the odd prod or poke that I'll be left alone for that time whilst they try to figure who the hell I am.

One of the downsides of course is the dreams, every soul you ever stole, the last deep draught of blood, the conversion from the living to the undead, those poor bastards will be bouncing around in your head for an eternity, they like to fuck with your dreams, you get the sort of visions like a bad trip, everything looks real, smells real, tastes real and it feels like you are right there, if you get good dreams then you are in for a ride, if it's a nightmare then it's like someone opened the gates of hell and let the demons run in your head, luckily most of the demons are shit scared of me, so I get left alone most of the time.

I come too with a shudder, the dark and the cold surrounding me, but it doesn't smell right, dusty, musty, not the morgue. I push out with my feet and the meet stone, I am laying on stone and stone is above me, I can smell her too, the same smell that washed over me in my dream. I reach up above and heave at the stone above my head, again waves of terror wash over me at the thought of impending doom, just no sweet rivulet of pleasure running under the surface to accompany them this time....

The orderly processed me into my body bag well enough, clearing of most of the blood and gore, although I wasn't that impressed with him when he stuck his finger up my ass, where the hell do they find the people to do these jobs? Or maybe it is too long in the job that turns em that way, it'll be the last anus he gets a buzz out of anyway, when I wake up I'm going to bite his finger off and stick it so far up him that he'll be wishing he cut his nails, that's all I'm saying.

The cold envelops me, soothing, like a comfort blanket for a kid, eyes are closed, heart is beating so slowly it might as well be stopped, just the race of colours behind my eyes, the whirl of my encounter with Jack, eating his heart, the pimp, the hooker I've secreted away to play with later, past victims creep up on me, hoping I'll spend the time of day with them, hell, they probably want someone sane to talk to right, though I'm not sure I'm the right guy for the job.

My dreams kick in, no surprise that she is the focus, she has been the focus for the last week, ever since the chance encounter. I was riding the sleeper train to the coast when I felt her presence, don't know if she was flying overhead or just ripping the throat out of someone close by, I just got this rush of power and I had to know more. I jumped the train and tracked her down, Vampira, queen of the night, how I long for her.

My dream shifts, I'm in her arms, she is stronger than I am, older, ancient and more deadly, she holds me fast and there is no escape, or is it just that in my mind I've no desire to run from her. I'm naked, what am I doing naked, she is clad in black, quelle suprise, long legs, slightly apart, tight figure hugging shirt, she is aroused, can't be the cold that is pushing her taut nipples into the flimsy cloth, the sight of them sends a pulse through me, it starts in my brain, my pupils dilate and the warm fire rushes down to my loins.

She smiles, a look that would terrify me if I had the sense, a glint in her eye, is that hunger? She steps forward and catches hold of my swelling cock in her hand, she leans in to my body and kisses me full on the mouth. This dream I can handle, I'm not sure it's where I should be putting her, I should be in control, dominant, but she seems to have me at an advantage here.

“you are nothing to me, nothing but pain and pleasure, I'll take what I want, when I want it, I'm the one who is ALWAYS in control” she spits the last few words at me, making sure I know it to be true, I try to wriggle free of her grasp but her fingers close tight around my cock and balls, squeezing with inhuman strength, tears well up in my eyes and the arousal that had raised me to attention quickly turns to ice cold terror, the pain is excruciating.

“don't cry little one” she mutters as she runs the fingers of her free hand through the tangle of hair on my chest “I wouldn't want to break you before I fed” her eyes catch mine and I am frozen by her glare, the command is simple “Don't Move” it is unspoken but I hear it all the same, her mental dominance has locked my muscles in place as surely as if I had slipped on a straight jacket. Vampira drops to her knees in front of me, a lascivious lick of her lips and a hungry flash across her eyes.

Now one hand is beneath me, cradling my balls, stroking, scratching, pulling at them, the other hand is wrapped around my shaft, lost in the pleasure as she manipulates me I note how long and delicate her fingers, the nails perfectly manicured, long, pointed, painted black or deep purple, the curl around me, gripping me at the base, tight, tight but not painfully so now, her wrist is gently pulling back and forth, so slowly as to be almost imperceptible, drawing my foreskin slowly back over the head of my cock, the tight flesh distending, arousing me further.

In my head I catch my breath, some small rivulet of me still there, “only a dream, only a dream, go with the flow, nothing bad is going down here”

Again she runs her tongue over her lips, I am sure they were a dark crimson red before but now they are black, like the nails, painted lady, she glances up into my eyes, daring me to try and move, showing me that whilst a woman in this position could be thought to be the submissive, the compliant one, that actually it is she who holds all the cards, I am at her mercy and she knows it.

Her head bobs forward, still her eyes up and locked on mine, her tongue darts out and wraps itself dexterously about my glans, the shock of the contact, so sensitive, so extremely powerful, I feel it rock me, like a wave shooting up from the tip as she licks it, roaring through the core of my body and exploding in my brain. She bobs further forward, her tongue is travelling down the underside of my my jerking sex, her hand still tugging at the base, her lips close around me now and I am lost in the amazing sensation, immediately warm, so soft, like a thousand strands of velvet being pulled tight over me.

Her cheeks suck in as she exerts pressure on me, as if she could suck more blood from my heart and brain, down into what has now become the very focus of my being. Her two hands, her tongue, her lips are all working as one one me now, tugging, stroking, lapping, caressing, drawing me forward with now way or will for me to intercede.


She pushes her head further down on to me now, the hand so recently drawing me on to orgasm reaches around behind my back, pulling in at the small so that I thrust forward into her, her tongue joins her other hand, lapping at my balls as her mouth slides down my shaft. I feel the sharp cut of her fangs as they gouge twin groves in the top of my penis, the pain is nothing to the pleasure that she brings, it is a welcome aside in the powerful oblivion that she is blessing me with.

Her mouth closes tight about me and the fangs sink deep into the base of me, the blood is pumping hard, my brain instructing every organ to give up all it can for this most primal of purposes, she is drinking deep of me, locked into me as still she rocks forward and back, forward and back, the depth that she holds me in is causing my sensitive glands to brush the back of her throat, I can caught in the ecstasy of her deep throating me against the harsh reality of the life she is draining, I could hang on the edge of this for ever, between orgasm and death, how long I am there, nearing release I cannot say.

Explanation on Blood Moon Rising

For anyone who is reading anyway!

BMR is a collaboration all of the odd sections are written by me, the evens by Vampira, we originally started posting them on Facebook but had some trouble with our accounts so continued via email, I'm posting them here as it's the easiest place for me to keep a decent record of them!

Blood Moon Rising pt VI by Vampira

I walk pensively down the street no longer enthralled by the smell of him; I stop and look at the card that the dead girl dropped.  Why hadn’t I seen it before?  The Jack of Hearts, red dandy Jack with a hole in his face.  I twiddle the card in my hand and twitch slightly as I feel my hackles raise, sharpen and point.  Whoever this vampire is, I need to see him, assess him and feel him deep within me before I wipe out his existence.  A slow smile works its way across my lips, because there would be blood, and lots of it.  Many weeks had gone by since I was hunted and reliving the thrill turned that little smile into a grin.  I held my head back and smiled up at the starry night. 

Still, there was the business of the card.   Moving purposefully, deep in thought, I thought about everything and nothing.  I’m not used to being toyed with and I don’t play cards.  Thinking back to the young girl who lay crumbled up in front of my old apartment building, no doubt blending in as an oddity by my old bench, I stirred at thoughts of how splendid in form she was; long, thin neck, bursting veins flowing with what I needed.  Maybe I shouldn’t have killed her, I thought as I licked my lips.

When I stopped, I wasn’t familiar with my locale, I mean, I had been here before, more than likely rushed through the area picking up nuances of focal points as I ran for my life.  What stopped me cold in my tracks was the lingering smell of blood, fresh blood.  I let my nose lead me to the spot and there was lots of it.  There was also a human, a man very dead on the spot. 

Toying with the card in my hand, I gazed at the moon as if for answers and smoothed the card gently placing it inside my coat pocket.  I stared at the man quizzically; he did not belong to this blood.  No, this blood was different, familiar, my hackles nearly jumped off my neck.  I kicked the man in the alligator suit, he fell over with a certain thud that only the dead can manage.  His face was a photo of incredulous pain, he barely had a neck.  No feelings were lost on him, for my interest was in the blood spilt.  Following the trail of blood, unaware of my surroundings, I focused on the droplets; I would not remember this location either.  

This was the blood of an ancient, an unknown.  I knew all the ancients in the area, and none would dare threaten me as he had.  We were as close to friends as vampires could be and they were afraid of my ingenuity.  Why hadn’t he been?  Where was he now?  When I stopped again, I was in front of the Mausley Emergency room entrance.  For a moment I was captivated by the flurry: nurses flashing by, toppled wheel chairs, patients starring, running and screaming.  The scene was right out of a Cracker Jack box, oozing in comic and laden with fear.  He was here, it was his blood, of that I was sure.

Was it to risky to track him down, probably?  My eyes went back to the controlled pulse in the waiting room, if I was going to make my move, it had better be now.  I walked through the doors carefully, always watching.  The window through the triage was empty and the outer door stood open.  There had been a patient in their, a woman and her child.  Now the stools lay askew, and the women in her haste had left her large purse gaping open on the floor.  It spewed with child pampers and medicine vials.  The adjoining door was shut and locked.  I closed my eyes and in a moment, the knob turned.  Now I was in a half filled receiving area, its patients were only somewhat disturbed by the triage nurses escape.  They sat patient and weary waiting on their turns.  I strode through and went right into the emergency room where even more patients were lined up on gurneys and in wheel chairs, one walked along the wall with cheeks out in a hospital gown. The nurses were clearly flustered by the ruckus of a few minutes ago, they had to see ‘how bad’ even though they wouldn’t attend to the victim.  Orderlies were already out cleaning up the blood.

“Treat this as a contaminant.”  The Administrator delivered the directive coolly as the orderly stared unkindly.  Leaning over the counter he whispered something into a nurse’s ear and backed off shouting at the clerk to have the police report on his desk in 2 hours.    In his efficiency he trusted no one to do their jobs right, yet they did - fueled by low morale.  He lumbered back to his office, where he could think, maybe eat of the meal his young wife so inefficiently prepared.  Removing his lab coat, he sat in his great leather chair already dreading the slew of police and reporters that would soon bombard his emergency room.  The victim had died under his watchful eye as he peered down from the window above the operating room; his staff had done everything right.  That wasn’t the problem, the problem was a corpse lying in the morgue with six gun shot wounds close up, and this was unheard of.  Six?  How did the man get there?  Where was he coming from? Where was the other body?  And why did this happen at the end of his shift?  It would be a long night and he wasn’t ready for it.  

It was easy to find my way out of the emergency room and into the elevator lobby.  I did not wait long and even had the whole car to myself , the same one he was carried down to the morgue in.  His scent laced the walls of the elevator and even here he had dripped blood.  The doors opened up to a darkened corridor and utter silence crept in.  I had to find him using other senses, my sense of smell was suddenly gone.  Realizing he was dead, I could not feel him and made several wrong turns before finding the Morgue door. 

An orderly done for the night was leaving the morgue.  He had blood splatters on his scrubs, still damp from his last job.  He held a crumpled sack in his hand and a note book under his arm.  I rushed at him like a bullet and slammed him back into the room he come out of before the door could shut. Once inside I hit him accurately, dead center on his temple and he fell out, dumped to the floor dead.  The tall orderly who had just started his shift watched in disbelief and seem unafraid of his turn being next.  He was awkward, pimply and just 3 days on the job.  His first job.  I flew at him before he could blink his eye, banged his neck and winced at the crack his bones made.  Releasing him, I strode boldly into the set up room and found my prize zippered inside a body bag. 

With the body now slung over my shoulder awkwardly I commanded the air.  In a few minutes I could feel a finger of air poking me and I began walking in the direction of the pull.  The corridor was long and u-shaped with out a soul in sight.  I ended up in front of the door to distribution, some quarter mile away from the morgue.   I walked through the doors, heard voices, saw that the overhead door was rolled up and raced through it rapidly.  I don’t think anyone saw me, thank God for small favors. 

I raced madly through the streets, leaping over curbs, rushing down the sidewalks in the darkened business section, startled an overworked prostitute and skirted past a slowing car.   The Vampire weighed a ton and was still warm to the touch.  Finally I reached the long curving, deserted road that would lead me home. 

I liked my graveyard; it spread 150 acres across tree topped flat land.  Upon it was set some of the oldest and grandest, never made again crypts that were nearly 200 yrs old.  Some crumbled in patches but remained solidly upright, protecting their wards.  Most of the land held plots for nameless Jane’s and John’s, who, unaccounted for ended up here.  This was the town’s third source of revenue. 

I crept slowly to the crypt of Paul T. Clooney, his body had been absent almost as soon as the doors were sealed, it would be a nice resting spot for the wounded Vampire Lord.   I trudged the dirt clad steps and entered the earthy chamber below.  In the center of the chamber stood a large, empty coffin, Clooney had been over 500 pounds.  I lay the body in the coffin, unzipped it and began to pull it off the body, I did not look, rather focused on removing the plastic bag.  Tossing it I walked back to the head of the coffin and peered at my nemesis.  He was a blistering white but not mottled.  Dark hair cascaded his head in troubled waves and set upon a strong neck.  Rough eyebrows lay upon his pronounced brow shadowing his deeply set eyes. Hollowed cheeks, concave nose and very kissable lips were set in a dangerous face; he did not look to be asleep.  I wondered what color his eyes would be.  Whether he would awaken in a fury or wonder where he was. 

My hand stole out to touch his still warm body, I let my fingers twirl around his nipple and dip in and out of his bullet holes.  I wanted to lick them properly, filling him with my healing saliva, but he had killed mines and wanted to kill me.  I let my hand, instead, rove the creases of his large muscles, through his chest hair, over his still heart, I rubbed his belly and enter his deep navel.  I glanced quickly to view his sleeping form, I could have sworn I saw a faint smile.   Slowly I allowed my eyes to fall back over his body.  He was dead, dammit and I needed him to feel exactly what I was going to do to him.   I moved down to view his unclothed sex, gasping, I stared openly, not quite lady like.  I narrowed my eyes and studied him, realizing how I missed playing with my own kind.  Could I touch him?  Not yet, I ordered.  I did however trace my finger across his groin and allowed it to slide down his hard thighs.  I placed the sturdy top of the stone casket upon him, and when it was securely in place, I leaned against it.  He would sleep for a while, he had to heal.  I would come back later and lay upon the casket.

As I closed the door to the crypt, relocking it, I stole to the shadows trembling with need.  My heart acted up, bumping within my chest and sent blood all over the place.  My nostrils flared as I tried to contain myself and my eyes pierced the night in search of food.  I saw him then, a younger Vampire Lord in search of the healing herbs.  His kind was in battle often and always needed a good supply of herbs for the ready.  He kneeled now over a fertile patch and busied himself with his chore.  As I swooped down on the Vampire Lord, I was filled with eternal longing that he would not satiate.   He was unsuspecting, not a threat, and I would have to remove all traces of him when I was through.  That didn’t matter.  I needed him.

I straddled his long back, humping him like a dog, forcing him to the ground flat.  He flipped between my legs facing me, eyes incredulous as I sank into him, kissing him long and hard.  My tongue batted against his cheeks, searched the thickness of his tongue and delve deep into the back of his mouth.  In minutes his body responded to mines, not even a fang nip from him, so I lingered a little longer.  Having dropped the herbs which he had strangled when I pounced, I could now feel his hands along my back, in my hair, he would be ready for me in a moment.  I played with his lips, his keen bone structure and got lost in his eyes.  As he smiled, I grew dizzy, closed my eyes and the next thing I knew, I was deep in his throat tearing and ripping.  So much for the promise he offered.  I could feel him underneath me struggling like a kitten, yet I tore at him unmercifully, slopping more blood than I was taking in.  I held him fast by the shoulders and pressed into his hips and he responded with a death blow to my side. 

Fully angered with dwindling pain, I snatched his clothes and skin off easily.  I could see his pulsating heart underneath the bones and muscle mass; I could hear it thud madly in his chest.  I wanted to kiss him again, but his eyes said no, so I crossed my fingers and went straight for his heart.

Calli & Will

Why do we see in colour? It’s something I’ve often pondered and am eternally grateful for. At night, in the full dark, we have good vision, seeing as if it’s twilight, of course if we get close enough heat shows up as flares, sometimes silver, sometimes red, bright coronas around whatever we are looking at.

No colours in the dark, just black and white, as a race we were born long before the advent of meaningful artificial light, so prevalent now, seeping up like a rash in the sky, blotting out the pinprick stars in the blanket of the night.

As beautiful as she is in colour it is no match for the perfection she presents in black and white. Her skin so pale it’s almost translucent, ethereal, I can’t pull my eyes away in case she has simply faded away into the darkness by the time I look back.

She knows I’m watching of course, we are bonded now, bound in blood yes but more than that, she has my heart, she will feel it beating faster as I allow my eyes to feast upon her, watching her stand amidst the shadows of the night, waiting for a suitable feed to happen by.

We have taken to hunting like this, one of us prowling, stalking, the other watching from the shadows, the streets aren’t always safe, even for our kind. Not a lot frightens us, humans are no match for our speed and strength, but there are other challenges to face, always challenges.

Typically and I suppose to be expected given our genus, our main threat is our own kind. Like us a lot of vampires hunt alone, maybe in pairs, but lately there have been packs, take one charismatic or powerful  leader add a few gimps and you have a recipe for trouble, they tend to keep busy fighting each other and thus out of our hair but it always pays to be careful.

Point in case tonight, Calli is leaning back in the shadows along the street, twin circles of street light stretching toward but not quite reaching her, it’s a great spot to stand and watch the comings and goings of the night. She’s smoking again, despite my protestations that the small dot of glowing red as she inhales is lighting her up like a Christmas tree.

Fuck it’s sexy though, I focus on her mouth through the gloom, watch her lips tighten around the filter, her cheeks draw in slightly as she breathes the smoke into her lungs, I imagine it’s me inhaling, feel it filling me, the wave of euphoria as I hold that breath inside me, her hand and the glowing cigarette move down to her side now, she’s still holding it in, can probably feel me willing her to do so, then out, slow, slow, slowly, dancing tendrils of smoke curling up from her lips, black to me in this light but I see them always as dark blood red,  the smoke swathes around her head before writhing off into the light.

Fuck again! I allowed myself that distraction lets hope it doesn’t prove fatal. A group are walking down the street, straight at Calli, casually they might look like a boy’s night out, leery and beery and out to have some fun, but only one of them is flaring hot and he has the jittery gait of one who is in the process of being turned. I don’t stop to think, leaping down from the branches of my tree I’m on the move but I know they’ll reach her before I do.

They spread out around her but she’s not fazed by them, she casually drops the burning cigarette to the floor and grinds it under the heel of her boot. “Looking for some fun boys?” they’re not sure how to react, they were hoping she would cower, or run, that’s the game they love to play.

Problem is, that although we are fast, strong, it becomes too easy if you are always facing off against people who are weaker and slower than you, up against our own kind, it's like against like and if they are more used to fighting other vampires than you are it spells trouble.

There are four of them in a semi circle around her, the last one, their fledgling, still unsure of himself is hanging back a step or two, doesn’t want to get in over his head. They are high on something, I smell a lot of blood on them but there is something else too, something with a sharp chemical tang, I’m hoping that will make them sloppy.

Three of them pounce Calli at once, the one off to her right gets more than he bargained for, a cold iron bar slides out of the sleeve of her jacket as she swings her arm toward him, he sways back but not far enough to avoid this surprise extension, as it connects with his skull there is a sickening Thuunk! his legs crumple beneath him, the blow would have taken the head off of a mortal, his is still attached but won’t be lifting off of the sidewalk for a while.

She sways and ducks simultaneously, I am amazed by the speed of her movement, the claws of the largest of her aggressors rush through the air where her head was moments before, the closed fist of the other clips at her rolling shoulder, even though it didn't connect fully you can sense the power of that blow as it staggers her back into the wall. “Fuuuck You” she is screaming in his face, has caught hold of his flailing wrist and brings her leg straight up, how the hell did it move like that? The heel of her boot is buried deep under his chin and he staggers back clutching at his throat, trying to choke breath through a crushed windpipe into his gasping lungs.

It is now that I close on the scene,  brush the fledgling aside, too much strength behind the shove, I don't pause to see him crumpling against the lamppost in the distance. The fingers of my straightened right hand punch through flesh and bone, vampires may be strong and fast but their bodies are no more resistant to penetration than mortals, I close my fingers between ribs and around the spine of my second target, pull, pull so hard that my whole body wrenches backward with the force.

He screams and it sends a warm shudder through me, is that so very wrong? The sound is sickening, a cracking, sucking underneath that hideous screech, he's laying in a pool of blood at my feet, a handful of vertebrae  still clutched in my gory fist.
Tables turned, there's only one of them left and we are eyeing him hungrily, vampire blood has much more bite to it, nothing surprising about that I guess, more powerful, more virulent, he turns to run but is moving in slow motion. I take him low, Calli high, he hits the floor like a roped steer, her fangs are in his throat before he can wriggle free and mine find their way to his femoral artery, not my favourite location to feed on a male vamp I'll admit, particularly one with dubious hygiene, but the pressure behind it as I sink in my fangs is invigorating, the blood is trying to push my mouth away from him as it jets warm and powerful down my throat.

Why do I always go hard whilst I'm feeding? I try to pretend to myself that it's all the additional blood surging around in my veins, looking for somewhere to live, but I know that's crap. I shift uncomfortably , trying to adjust myself without making it obvious, no avail, Calli has lifted her head from his throat now and is eyeing me lasciviously, a smile that can only be called a smirk on her blood spattered lips.

“Need some help with that gorgeous?” her voice is sultry, I can feel it wash over me, damn she doesn't even have to concentrate on casting her glamour on me, it seeps out of her and grabs me by the throat, urging me to respond. She wipes the drops of blood from her cheek and chin with her fingertips and licks them clean suggestively as I drain the last spurt of blood from our poor young stud, there is little of him left now, although I am again ashamed at the scene of carnage we are leaving behind us.

Calli moves toward me as I stand, she is enjoying the obvious discomfort that the bulge in my trousers is causing me, before I can move to hide it as some hormonal teenage jock might she is beside me, I jolt as she slides her hand into my pocket, her sharpened nails slicing through the flimsy material and her hand closes tight around my shaft, “Mmmmm mine I think” she pulls me toward her roughly and we convert the adrenalin pumping through us into lust, my mouth on hers, my hands cinching her firmly at the waist, there is nothing in my mind but her, lust, desire, passion, I must have her and nothing is going to stop me.

Calli pulls back slightly, her hand still tight around me, using my erection to lead me down the street like some leashed dog, feeling her nails scraping against my skin puts any thoughts of argument from my mind, she is almost running now, enjoying my struggle to keep up, encumbered as I am.

I am grateful for small mercies, this one being that we don't have far to travel, within two minutes we pull up outside the sort of motel that I would not frequent by choice, rational thought however is not part of my current process. Calli yanks me through the door and throws a fistful of bills at the clerk, “closest room please honey” he doesn't even look up lifting a key from the wall and pointing to a door down the hall..

“Come on lover” she growls throatily as she leads me down the corridor, I’m not about to resist, she is obviously pumped with adrenalin from our fight and quite possibly has more than the usual amount of testosterone swilling about after feeding on a male vamp too, the chemicals we pick up in blood can have an interesting effect on us in the short term.

The room is not what I would call luxurious, functional at least and I’m grateful that the interior is dimly lit, there will be no question of spending the night here though, the thin curtains would provide no protection from the sunlight that will burst in, my mind does it's automatic calculations, one am now, sunrise around six thirty and it will take at least half an hour to get to my closest daylight bolt hole, Calli I think has somewhere closer but I wouldn't object to sharing mine with her if need be.

I half turn to push the flimsy door shut behind us, then back to face Calli, double take, where has she gone? I feel an insistent tug at the buttons on my jeans, then a wrench, a tear and a growl of frustration, whoah there goes another pair but I'm in no position to start complaining.

She is kneeling on the floor in front of me, her left arm raised, flat palm pushing me back against the door with a dull thud, I feel the poor quality wood give slightly under the weight of that push and hope to god it holds, I don’t want to burst into the corridor with the remnants of my tattered trousers the only thing covering my modesty..

The door holds but I’m not thinking about that anymore, Calli has me under her spell; the delicate fingers of her right hand are wrapped tightly around the shaft of my engorged member, her pink tongue flicks quickly out of her mouth as she licks her lips in anticipation. Gently, slowly she strokes down my shaft, my foreskin parts easily and begins to distend around the tip of my cock, she reverses her stroke, letting the skin roll back up, watching intently as the delicate friction of that motion does it’s work. I’ve never been so hard, the need so urgent in me.
She is toying with me now, she leans her head back and licks her lips again, I can see the bright white of her teeth against those full dark lips, her fangs are out, sharp and menacing, suddenly I realise the precarious position I am in, trying to back away but with nowhere to go. “Only kidding gorgeous..” She smiles wide at me and the fangs recede, I don’t have time to react as she bobs her head suddenly forward, her lips meeting the very tip of me, the exquisite sensation of that kiss floods through me as her head continues slowly forward, enveloping me with her mouth, encircling me with her dexterous tongue.

Calli is enjoying herself now, enjoying the knowledge that I am completely at her mercy but also that every minute movement she makes is a hotwire to the pleasure receptors in my brain. The sensation of her lips and tongue upon me is almost too much to bear, almost! I can feel her mouth tighten as she sucks in gently, enveloping so tightly for the briefest of moments as her head moves gently back and forth, then she loosens her hold but pushes further forward, deeper on to me, a different sensation but no less pleasurable.

As her mouth works busily upon me so to do her hands, the right still wrapped around the base of my shaft, rhythmically tugging back and forth, discrete movements of the wrist, not forced, not painfully hard, just insistent, constant. Her left hand has moved between my legs, nails are out, scratching and stimulating me by turns, up my inner thigh, closing briefly around my tightening balls and then back between my legs to dig into the flesh of my buttocks, cupping me and pulling my hips forward, deeper into her waiting mouth.

I feel her tongue snake out over her bottom lip, the sudden forward motion, the velvet texture of it against my frenulum causing me to gasp with delight, it continues forward, protruding perhaps an inch from her mouth now, muscle tensed hardness against the underside of my shaft, digging into me, an obvious adjunct to the soft enveloping sensation of her mouth.

Her right hand, thumb and forefinger encircling me, still relentlessly working back and forth, now slides down to the base of my cock, the rest of her hand flattening against my groin and up to my stomach, she makes use of the additional space on my shaft to rock her head further down my length, impossibly far, I feel intense pressure on the already overloaded tip as she pushes her mouth forward onto me, almost taking me to her throat, I try vainly to wriggle backward but I am caught between her her hand and her mouth.

I can do nothing, I try to speak, to worship her with my words but I am mute, I try to move, to display the ecstasy I feel through touch, but I am paralysed, can only shut my eyes and draw breath, focus on the breath and lose myself in her touch.

How long she holds me on the brink of this existence I cannot imagine, an hour? A lifetime? Every part of me, everything that I have ever been, will ever be, is here and now, this moment. The roaring in my head is deafening, there is nothing but light before my eyes, all of my nerve endings feel wired, electrified.

I manage to gasp, beg, beg her to stop before she tips me over the edge, pray that she will, pray that she won't. “please” a simple word, forced between my tightening lips, just please..

It takes a few minutes for me to regain any sense of self, I catch myself hyperventilating, did I pass out? My hands are in hers, clutching them tightly, my nails drawing bloody crescents in her palms, Her smile fills my field of vision, I draw a shuddering, satisfied breath, feel the warmth of my passion, my love for her fill me and radiate outward.

I loosen my grip on her hands, unsure for a moment what to do, confused by the aching stiffness between my legs, impossibly hard, seeming to defy the laws of physics as it strains upon itself. I lead Calli to the bed, both of us shedding what clothes remain as we move, then sit with my back to the headboard, my legs down the bed, slightly apart. I motion for  her to sit between them, her back to me, I have to adjust myself to accommodate her, flattening my length up against my stomach, pressed hard between us. I surround her then, envelop her in my arms and my legs, wrapping them tight about her, holding her close, my head forward, teeth nibbling gently at her shoulders and neck, whispers of love or longing and kisses falling onto her ears in equal measure.

I shift slightly, nestling her further into me, I allow my left hand to drop slightly, around her left shoulder, my firm hand cupping her breast, thumb and fingers riding across the sensitive skin, causing a ripple of goose bumps to explode in their wake. My right hand runs the length of her inner arm, causing it to jerk at the ticklish sensation, I slide my hand under her own, each of my fingers resting directly below hers "I want you to show me how you touch yourself, want you to let me touch you" I move my hand now, carrying her own with it, across her stomach, down, light and slow, slowing more still as it creeps through the dusting of hair above her sex.

She seems reticent at first, almost nervous, but steels her resolve, her hand guides mine down further, splitting my fore and index finger apart as they glide over the soft flesh above her pubic bone, taking them one either side of her hood, straddling her swollen lips. Now her fingers above mine close gently, not over tight, but still enough for my fingers to trap her lips between them, my palm resting on her mound, the V of my fingers matching the top of her clit.

Her hand starts to rock mine back and forth slowly, my fingers gripping her lips and within that her clit, being jerked so softly by the motion of her flesh on flesh. I, she, keep this up for no more than a minute but her hips are starting to rock back and forth gently too, meeting the rhythm. Suddenly we stop, her index finger takes mine with it, splitting her lips apart, pushing down through the folds of her, she is slick, wet to my touch as my finger glides easily down through her labia to the nerve endings around the mouth of her vagina.

Her finger drives mine to run firmly around the very tip of her there, once only before drawing back up, straight up to her quivering clit, pushing me to rub her in small, slow circular motions, firm but not overly so, increasing in speed and intensity with each half dozen or so circuits, my other fingers exploring the folds of her labia but always the focus of is upon my index finger, faster, firmer, faster firmer, building, building until it is almost a blur upon her, her own hand has withdrawn now, is attempting to reach around behind her and force it's way between our bodies to grasp at my twitching cock, pressing hard into the small of her back.

My fingers work upon her tirelessly, my left hand still at her breast, an engorged nipple between forefinger and thumb, pulling lightly at it, my mouth is at her ear whispering "Come for me Calli, I want to feel it ride through you, come for me" my teeth scrape at her neck, her cheek, as relentlessly my fingers press her, push her, cajole her toward orgasm. The feeling for me is just as intense, each gasp of her breath lights fires in my brain, sending tendrils of fire through me, causing my erect cock to jerk and twitch in the confined space between our bodies.

I am kissing her neck, pausing between  each to tell her what each shudder of her  body is doing to me, telling her that when she comes it will fire through me, her orgasm more powerful to me than my own, my finger has slowed now, but the pressure behind it is intense, she is close, breath ragged, short gasps followed by nothing as she holds it tight within her, not trusting herself to breath out lest she crumbles.

Finally she relents, I feel her body trembling wildly in my grasp, she is shouting, screaming but the words are unintelligible, I would not trust my ears to hear them as the roar is there again, the blood surging through me, picking up on the extreme fire that is running through her, the pace of my finger picks up again, frenzied, frantic as she bucks wildly beneath and within my grasp.

Suddenly all is still, silent, like the passing of a tornado and we are within the eye, I hold her tight against me, my hand clutched close over her sex, motionless now. We do not draw breath, do not speak, just sit there amidst the wonder of the storm that just burst through the room.

She spins around in my arms and is kissing my mouth, my face, firm full on kisses, almost if she were a ravenous beast trying to feed on me, I return those kisses in full, my arms snaking around her back, my body sliding down the bed, moving my legs inside hers so that she straddles me now, she arches her back and throws her hands up behind her head, running her fingers through her hair, tossing her head from side to side, knowing full well the effect this display will have, breasts uplifted, bounce magically as her hair flicks out from side to side, splaying across her face, her lips in a mock pout, I am lost in the beauty of her.
“Come here”  I urge and maneuver so that my profoundly erect cock is twitching manically between her legs, bouncing up in anticipation, I slide over and against her warm, moist, slightly parted lips, guide myself into her with one hand, reaching around her waist with the other, pulling her down, down my shaft, she and I both feel her lips part wider, my eyes open wide as the soft, yielding pleasure strokes my cock, electrical impulses roaring straight to my brain, pleasure, pleasure, Pleasure.

I pull her all the way down, my other hand reaching around,  both are clasping tight into her buttocks now as I pulls her all the way down and imperceptibly rock her forward so that her clit just rolls over my pubic bone, “fhhhhwuh” a tiny gasp of air puffs from Calli's lips at the unexpected motion. She starts to ride up my cock again but that is not what I want, I pull her back down and there is that little rocking motion again “Like this gorgeous, not up and down, I'm so deep in you and that is hitting every button I have, I can feel your bum pressing down on my balls and every part of me is being enveloped by you, I want you to rock like this” I rock her back over the bone, my hips are raised slightly, taking the weight off of her knees, it's as if her clit and my bone are the fulcrum, that is where all the pressure is focused, I rock her forward again, that small motion riding her up my shaft imperceptibly, but she is so deep on me that it might as well be a 12 foot stroke, rock her back again, deeper into her, by millimeters, but she can see that it is working for me.

Rock, deep, rock, deeper, every movement rolls her clit over the bone, she starts to fuck that spot, rhythmically, deep, deeper, deep, deeper, rock, rock, rock, my breathing is ragged now and she is losing it too, is lost there, she can feel me swelling to fill her, how aroused can I get, how much bigger? Deep, deeper, Deep, deeper, the rhythm is what is doing it for me, the rhythm and my head, it's all in my head, I am getting off on her getting off on me, watching the imperceptible bounce and heave of her amazing breasts with each forward thrust, drawing her forward with my fingers digging into her buttocks, her fingers buried deep in my shoulders, deep, deeper, "oh god" she murmurs "I'm coming again" she loses the rhythm and just starts rocking back and forth on me wildly, she is screaming and swaying and I am losing it too, feel her tighten around my shaft, tight, tight, tight, tighter, “uh, uh uuuhhhh” she stops rocking and lets the flow take her, across her breasts, shooting down through her stomach and rising rising rising on through her. Calli is gripping me so tight “Jesus yes” I feel it, like a tongue on a battery tingle starting at the head of my cock, building through me to a deep deep uncontrollable wave, she feels the pulse, PULSE, PULSE P-U-L-S-E, the spasm, I grow inside her as my come tries to burst forth from the tight tight confines, she feels it surging through me, I am gripping her so close to me, her fingers have left my shoulders and are now sitting at the end of bloody gashes somewhere below my chest.

"You know beautiful, if I wasn't already dead I think I would be after that. I don't want either of us to promise that we will be together always, always is an awful long time for us, but whatever happens I want you to promise that you will never forget me" At that I feel our lips should meet again, a promise sealed with a kiss, never forget.

Blood Moon Rising pt V

It doesn't take me long to discover where I'll be spending the night, somewhere safe, somewhere that will mask my scent, I like the fact that it's close by too, a kind of irony in the adage about keeping you enemies closer...


Mausley Emergency Room presents itself, bright and neon in the night, I see from the street that even at this hour the waiting room is heaving with bodies.. How to get in, get to the cold storage but give myself a couple of thrills along the way?

I head down the street, find a few side alleys, get into the dirtier side of town, there's my man, I could see him before I could smell him which is unusual but then he is wearing a green suit, thinks he looks sharp, pushing one of his working girls around “Don't you go holding money out on me bitch” is what I catch as she cowers back, he gripping her wrist in his left hand and drawing back the right for another pop. She is dressed lazily, raincoat over lingerie, high heels, stockings, just like every other hooker I lay eyes on. Her eyes are wide, fearful, she knows what's coming, a beating then back to work, relentless, the story of her nights.

He smells perfect to me, the musk of sex, the high sweet of scent of cheap drugs and liquor and underneath it, cordite, metal and oil, that's the smell I'm looking for.

I lope up and present him with a new target, stepping between the too of them, she doesn't look like she's going to thank me for it, probably realises it will only get worse if some jerk tries to be her knight in shining armour.

“Get the fuck out of my face dick” he spits the words over me “this ain't your business and you don't want it to be” he talks tough and I can sense he's ready to back up his words with action, his girl, now free of his grip, is backing off across the street, it's like a slow motion scene from a B western movie. I shoot her a glance over my shoulder, she catches my eyes, probably to implore me to let it go, in that moment she is mine, the mesmer has her, her shoulders drop and she stops moving, oblivious to anything but my will.

“try me” two words, softly spoken to my aggressor, no hint of menace, no steel or weight behind them, I don't need there to be any, I want him to try me..

He goes for his gun as I leap up to his throat, he's a good 6 inches taller than me so I'm climbing up his chest, my fangs out, hunting for flesh, I don't want this to be clean, no neat puncture marks this time. His right hand pulls the pistol from it's holster under his shoulder, we are way too close for him to do much more than pull the trigger and hope it hits me and not him.

My right hand is on his wrist, I'm aiming his gun into my chest for him, wide left, wide right, I don't need a bullet through the heart, not tonight at least, my left arm is over his shoulder as my fangs are ripping his throat out, bathing me in his hot blood, his colour is draining fast as his finger squeezes down on the trigger.

BAMPH, I'm almost thrown off him by the weight of the bullet ripping into my chest, my left arm holds fast to his back, I can feel his legs going, BAMPH, BAMPH “FUUUCKK that smarts you bastaaard” I am screaming into his face as I let his life blood wash over me, BAMPF BAMPH BAMPH, six holes in me now, small, sphincter like at the front, puckered and raw. At the back it is just gorey, gaping exits, my blood colouring my back as his is the front of me. Beautiful.

He drops in my arms, the gun clattering to the pavement, I reach into his pocket and pull out a roll of notes, peel off five hundreds and press them into my new toy's hand. “Get some decent clothes on and rent adjoining rooms at the Marriott, don't talk to anyone that you don't need to” She turns as if released from a straitjacket and walks off into the night.

I put my best “I've just been shot 6 times” face on and burst through the doors of the ER dept, I stagger to my knees, let a mouthful of blood fall to my already crimson shirt and then fall flat on my face.

People are screaming around me, running to help, running to hide, covering their faces, I love making an entrance. Orderlies get me on a trolley and are rushing me through to a cubicle, I'm convulsing, forcing blood out of myself through every hole I can find, fuck I love my life, they are being cool and efficient on the surface but I can smell the anxiety as they try so hard to save me...

I flat line almost as soon as they have me attached to the monitor, I let them try defib, it's like wiring your balls up to a light switch, painful but with that itch of pleasure running through it, you want it again but know it'll never get you off.

After battling valiantly with such a hopeless case they give up on me and I'm being wheeled down to the dead rooms, the charnel house, the sharp disinfectant smell blocking everything else, even I couldn't find me by scent down here! The bitter cold wraps around me like a blanket. They sign me over to some schmo on duty and he gets on with cleaning me up and stowing me away, John Doe tag around my toe. Maybe I'll think about what presses his buttons if he is still there when I decide to wake up, time to sleep....

Blood Moon Rising pt IV by Vampira

I can smell him. Thirty minutes upstairs in the loft where Jack lay sprawled with out a box – devoid of life, just death odor - which I easily recognize, I know an underlying scent. I can smell – HIM, and this was no underlying scent. I grabbed the opening of my blouse; seemingly in uncertainty, surely in an attempt to hide cleavage, but mainly to steady myself. The scent grew stronger; I was dizzy with the must of strong Alpha male. I just don’t run into these kinds of vampires often.

Clutching my blouse, I could feel my nipples tighten, and for a moment I’m excited. I made my way down the stairs that I would never walk again, past the decorative sconce, fine copies of medieval art, down the carpet in the middle of the stairs. It might as well have been a gloved hand that pulled gently on my wrist. I am in control, yet I allow the raw, fierceness of Vampire Lord atrocity to have its way with the moment … to quicken my blood within my being, push out goose bumps, sweat upon my brows, face aglow, knees shivering, fangs glowing, breathing trapped, heart hammering, having lost my mind … I was mesmerized by the aroma in the corridor … the boy just had it going on like that … and I am in control of the moment.

The smell was overwhelming, it beat out death, and the doorway ahead signified the night and the hunt. I inhaled one long breath and opened the double paned security door.

The first thing that hit me … HIM. The second thing was the sight of the girl seated on my bench. With her head lowered she appeared to be studying her fingers. I approached her, slowly, unsteadily, still dizzy from the sexual impasse that was with me in the corridor. Still she did not move.

I walked right up to her and put my hand through his aura that surrounded her. I’m loathing of Vampire’s claim on a gift, or otherwise. I raised her up, ignored her stench and focused on the glaring puncture marks on her pale neck. My eyes roved over the teeth indentations barely raising her skin. I could see the whelp his tongue left, the silver lace of his saliva and his lips must have stopped right there and there – and Oh my gawd, I wanted her, not her, but where he was with her. I commanded her to look at me … her eyes, ebony, tingled.

I ache.

She demurred as I bent towards her, licking her lips as she waited. I waited. Controlling the beast, I was pulled to her – I might have squeezed her too tightly. My lips quivered as they grew closer to her, dripping saliva, whispering heat – I might have scratched her quite deeply. My mouth’s mold would mark her, over his, both of us, just me. Darting my tongue across her raised tissue, I tried to become his fangs, wanted to be part of this child, tried to get in her, wanted to be her – I might have frightened her badly. I made no new marks except for where my bottom teeth held her in place and I took from her, gave to her – I might have killed her slowly.

She dropped from my embrace, snapping like an accordion; knees hit first, waist bent, bosom reached forward. And then I saw the card. Jack of Hearts, poor Jack.

Blood Moon Rising pt III

Before I slip secretly into the night I need to ensure that there is no ambiguity, you must understand that Jack was not some act of random violence, but a message. I'm anything but subtle and I have a delicious idea.

Casing the trendy bars and clubs on East side I spot my target, pretty little thing, almost ethereal, long tousled hair slipping over her eyes and one of those gossamer dresses under a Steve McQueen leather jacket, how very chic.

Even before I stepped up to her she was smiling at me, I'm just her type, she's a prom queen pretending to be a rock chick looking for a bit of rough before running home to daddy. I'm looking as rough as they come, ripped jeans, once white t, unkempt and unshaven, going for the wolverine look that they all love right now, poor kid didn't stand a chance, especially once I'd given her my lupine smile and fixed her with my mesmerising eyes.

Hailing a cab I dragged her in the back with me and slipped the driver a crumpled 100, "Pleasant View memorial gardens, no questions" fixing his eyes ahead my man pushed his foot to the floor and sped us into the night, she giggled and cooed and I nibbled her neck, never knew what hit her as I extended my upper fangs and punctured her pretty white skin. I love all the flavours you get, the stories they tell you, whether it’s a dusty old fart note from an octogenarian or the pestilential bile of a disease riddled bum, hers was sweet, sweet and light, I knew it when I first scented her, dancing on my tongue like motes of light, still a bit of innocence and hope in there, gutsy, warm and adventurous, those were the emotions that hit me as I took a deep draught of her, I could feel her excitement on my tongue. I let the crimson trickle down and pool in the dip by her collar bone...

Dragging her from the cab at the gates, she stumbles, in the throes of the torpor, I point her toward your favoured bench "just go and sit there sweetheart, someone will be along for you in a spell", I thrust a playing card into her hand as she walks off, puncturing the middle of it with the elongated nail on my pinkie. The face of the card flashes at me in the moonlight as she walks away... Jack of Hearts

I turn and jog into the gloom, time to find a place to sleep.

Blood Moon Rising pt II by Vampira

The wrought iron benches glistened in the waning moonlight, illuminating the single leaf let loose from the overhanging tree. I would sit here for a moment; I always did.

Claws retreating, I felt relaxed under the glow of the red beams. I had left my stockings in the apartment, my last pair of Berkshire Lace. That was just another reason to go back. But not now, Jack would be in the throes of wailing, oozing pus and swelling up. I did not wish to see him in this state, only amorous, supine and willing.

He wanted a car, a red ‘machine’ he called it, and he promised to make the night memorable – and he had. He had yield his mortal body to my constrained appetite going beyond what any other human ever had, earning his car and ensuring other goodies later on. When I caressed his neck, I sensed in him a need, an utter willingness to be taken - how come, for the umpteenth time I thought, how come they couldn’t all be like him?

The moons red glare shifted across my naked legs, I could feel the breeze brush my short hem slightly and creep along my parted legs. Just one more minute, hell 5, I wanted to lounge in my favorite spot. The wrought iron benches had been a major selling point, and the over hanging tree made it perfect. The second selling point was its proximity to food; a trauma hospital and two large graveyards with one of them belonging to me. There were more things to be had than Jack in his gothic jungle and the availability of food, but I’m happy with what I got.

It was time to leave, my legs had become antsy and more leaves were falling from the tree, signifying a cold blistering night. I looked up in the window and I could see the built of Jack playing against the shadows of the sheers. He knew me well. I blew his silhouette a kiss and hurried into the night.

As luck would have it, my graveyard seemed bare of its usual traffic; they too indulged in the bounty across the way. I stood, perfectly still, statue like, and I listened to the low hum of the earth. I could feel its cadence, like a drum beat, the rhythm, like a slur. All is well.

Across the sky, blood patched everything under the moons’ glow. Hidden in the shadows, the food chain shifted and transformed with the light, making capture tedious. Vampires, if seen, were often a lighter colored mist before evaporating, other creatures blended in as lines and curves. Humans were simply targets. I flew freely in the air, piercing it rather than parting. My body, as a compass, automatically guided me towards the source of food on cruise control, for the most part - I was in it for the ride. But I loved flying, it was one of my simpler pleasures, and as I bee-lined towards the battle grounds, I began to pick up a wealth of discord. This was nothing unusual on this side of town; we all had to live together. I shook off the sensation of sizzling, being watched, a current - I would be careful. I always am.

The night rolled out like an action movie with me needing to feed and fulfilling those desires easily. I chose my victims carefully, bit swiftly with little ado and drank deeply stopping just before they lost consciousness. In this manner, it was better to take out a group of 2 or 3, and be done with it, but one couldn’t always tell what kind of night they would have.

I was with my last mortal, a favorite, and all this time, he still didn’t expect me. Juan Pritchard, lay naked, face down in the bed – I had to shut his mind off, and in the end make him forget, because he was a fighter. I straddled him and placed my hand in the middle of his back, pushing him into the down comforter, pushing him until he heaved a soft purr, pushing blood up to his neck. I could feel my body tingling slightly, electricity, there was no mistaking it.

… and I let the electricity touch me, it slow-boiled my blood, rippled gently in my belly. I rocked with it. My handprint seared Pritchards’ back causing it to whiten around its circumference, his jugular was engorged. I could still smell his waking fear; I could feel my body sweat as the electricity flittered across my nipples like raw wire. Feeding became a heightened need, NOW! Yet, my body was inert … this gave me pause. And then it was gone, too quick, but it was gone.

I tore into Pritchard’s neck, falling flat against his hard body, I listened to his heart thud and I sucked blood through the gaping hole. This was the last time that he would serve my need.

I needed to get back to Jack.

As soon as I landed upon the bench, I knew something was wrong, in-fact, it was before that. I looked quickly up at the window, saw nothing and bounded up the stairs by twos - I almost went threw the outer door before taking out my keys.

I could smell death as it hurled its way down the stairs to me. I met it. This time I went under the door as mist.

I ended up on the balcony by the time it was over with. Having nearly healed from the wounds I inflicted, Jack sprawled beautifully, except for the obvious hole in his chest. His eyes said nothing, stared nowhere, the color of Levis. I sat perched on the ledge like a gargoyle; the events that led up to my being here now, ruminated. There really wasn’t anything, nothing I could sink my teeth into. That was funny, I didn’t smile. Someone would have to pay, simply put. Damn, two good humans in one night. I’m sure Jack thought of me as his bloody body bid farewell – I would’ve liked to have seen that.