I felt a
spicy tingle as her lips brushed my ear.
Her hands slid around my chest, teasing me. I felt her warm breath on my neck as she
whispered her seduction to me. I felt a
forbidden thrill as I glimpsed eternity.
I wanted it. Her tongue slid
across my neck, and I shivered in horrible anticipation. I felt the pressure of her two sharp teeth as
hard points pushing on my throat. Once
again her tongue flicked out, and I sucked in my breath. I knew what she wanted. I closed my eyes. It was up to me.
“Please. .
. .” her voice was erotic.
I nodded my
head. She bit down.
It was the
most exquisitely excruciating pain I had ever felt. I loved it, and at the same time, was
mindlessly terrified by it. My veins
burned as she drew my life into her. Her
fingers dug into my chest, and I loved it.
My head started swimming and I realized that I couldn’t stand on my
own. Her drinking became more powerful
and steady as she slowly, tenderly drew me to her. I felt myself slide down and I knew that she was
sitting and cradling me, like an infant.
Suddenly, I
felt like a deflated balloon. She laid
me down on my back, kneeling over me. I
could see a drop of my life gather on her red lips and fall onto my chin. I didn’t have the energy to wipe it off. I was dying.
As I
watched with dying eyes, she drew her fingernail across her wrist and held it
above my mouth. Death or life. It was still up to me. I looked up into her eyes. They were pleading. And suddenly I realized how lonely she
was. There was the unspeakable pain of
centuries of isolation, and the savage hope that I would be with her. Her lips moved, “Please.”
“Yes.”
She flexed
and a drop of her blood fell onto my tongue.
It was heavy. I remembered
wondering if my blood would be as heavy.
And it was sweet. Sweet like
love. I wanted more. I looked into her eyes. To my wonderment, there were crystalline
tears running down her cheeks. I’ve
never made anyone so happy and it was strange think that I could only bring joy
through my death. She put her wrist to
my mouth and I drew her in. As her
essence flowed into me, my heart slowed and my vision began to throb.
I opened my eyes. Was it day or night? I couldn’t tell. My skin was tingling. My muscles were twitching. But it didn’t hurt. I waited a few more minutes, until it went
away. Everything was still. I took a deep breath, and somehow, it felt
gratuitous. Suddenly, I understood that
it was dark in the room, almost pitch black, but I could see perfectly. I was laying on a couch, in what appeared to
be an average living room. I felt soft
fingers tenderly brush my arm, and a form knelt beside me.
“Are you
ok? I was worried that you wouldn’t wake
up.” Her voice was like a gentle breeze.
I
smiled. It felt so thrilling to have
someone actually care. She leaned
forward and kissed my cheek.
“My
stomach. . .it feels sick,” I whispered.
I felt reluctant to break the spell of silence. I turned my head to see her. The moon broke from behind the clouds, and its
cold blue light glowed around her silhouette.
“Don’t
worry about that. It’s normal. And I’m right here. We’ll get through this.” She reached down and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back. “Do you feel good enough to sit up?”
I
nodded. With a grunt, I pushed myself up
to a sitting position. I felt the
cushion shift as she sat down beside me.
“Take it
easy, you need to go slow.”
I rubbed my
temples. It wasn’t going to be easy to
get used to this. I wiped my sweaty
palms on my bare legs. I paused. I looked down.
She
giggled. I felt my cheeks burn and I
belatedly covered myself. I swallowed
and my head started to reel and I felt my stomach clenching and
convulsing. I tumbled off the couch to
my knees and began to heave violently.
Some cold, extremely bitter bile came up, but I kept dry heaving. I saw stars explode before my eyes and my
stomach kept convulsing. I coughed, my
fingers digging into the carpet, as the clenching tore my insides. I spit again.
My throat spasmed once and I kept my vision focused on the delicate
weave of the rug, trying to find some stability. I realized that she was kneeling next to me,
her soft fingers tracing my back.
Then,
another realization struck me. One that
threatened to shred my sanity. One that
terrified me.
I was
hungry.
Suddenly, I
was in agony. A pain like I’d never felt
before was shrieking through my body. I
sucked in my breath and clawed at my forearms.
As I looked at my arms, I could see my veins inflating and
deflating. A scream tore through the
silence of the room, and I realized that it was my own. I felt her chill hands on my chest and I was
flung onto my back. I felt a weight on
my body, and I saw that she was straddling me, pinning my arms down.
“Calm
down! Relax! That’s normal, your veins are opening up for
feeding.”
The pain
became a mere background to the turmoil of my thoughts. Gritting my teeth, I looked at her, not quite
understanding. She saw my confusion and
continued.
“Your body
can’t manufacture its own hemoglobin. As
what little blood you have is used up, your veins will deflate. When it’s time to feed, they’ll open up to
accept more blood, understand?”
The pain
became a dull burn, and I nodded. I
could still feel that horrible sensation as my body became a foreign vessel,
but I kept my eyes on her smile. It was
an anchor in this chaos. I focused all
my energies on tracing the lines of her lips, the curve of her cheeks, and the glint
of her eyes. She leaned forward, and I felt her lips on my
cheek. She whispered softly in my ear,
“Stay here. I’m going to help you. Don’t move, ok?”
I nodded my
consent and felt her rise. I heard her
soft padding as she walked and a door opened, and closed. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of
the pain.
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