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I slink in the shadows, unrevealing and merciless. A purpose forged by blood and thirst. My boots creak gently as I stretch up onto my tiptoes and back down onto the balls of my feet.
Waiting.
Waiting
Waiting.
The blackness has become my ally, hiding me from the eyes of mortals that snicker and stare, point and snatch. I sulk, my back pressed against a cold brick wall, my cape my only comfort on this bitter eve. My breath crystallises in the night air, melding together before dispersing translucently amongst the darkness.
I wait some more.
Something stirs behind the heavy oak door I stand beside. My pupils stretch at the corners of my sockets, almost tearing my tear ducts, to try and glance her; my date for the evening. But alas all is quiet once more. My deep sigh echoes through the empty streets and disappears into the depth of darkness with my chilled breath.
Clink
Click
Squeak.
The door slides open to reveal her in all of her majestic beauty. Her curvaceous physique gracefully attired in a soft beige gown, dipping delightfully between her large breasts – a ruby pendant dancing between them on a slim chain. Hey eyes dart side-to-side before closing the door and starting a slow-paced shuffle along the street.
I follow.
Clinging to the dark doorways and insurmountable archways I go unnoticed. Following the beck and call of her clippety-clop heels. I know not where she is heading and that I need to make my move soon. Afore dawn, at least. I stalk her like a fox does a rabbit, through the twisting, winding, riddling streets of the city. I gain on her, my heart beats frantically, the thought of a fresh feeding excites my senses.
I plunge.
My arms clamp onto her shoulders, thrusting her neck backwards as my fangs penetrate her softly scented neck. Her scream turns to a gurgle as I drink deeply from her. Feeding my need, taking my fill. Pale and drained she collapses to the floor, used and useless. Probably still alive, until dawn at least.
Dawn.
The one thing I fear.
The scorching shards of light that burn through my very soul. The daylight that melts away the shadow that conceals and protects. The rays of light that burn and torch my soft skin are the ones I long never to encounter. But if I’ve never experienced the daylight then how can I be sure it will burn?
I can’t.
Then again, how do mortals know they will plummet to their deaths if they run off a cliff? They don’t, really. Yet they never really know until they’re actually falling. Until it's too late.
It’s all rumours and instinct.
Rumours and Instinct.
Waiting.
Waiting
Waiting.
The blackness has become my ally, hiding me from the eyes of mortals that snicker and stare, point and snatch. I sulk, my back pressed against a cold brick wall, my cape my only comfort on this bitter eve. My breath crystallises in the night air, melding together before dispersing translucently amongst the darkness.
I wait some more.
Something stirs behind the heavy oak door I stand beside. My pupils stretch at the corners of my sockets, almost tearing my tear ducts, to try and glance her; my date for the evening. But alas all is quiet once more. My deep sigh echoes through the empty streets and disappears into the depth of darkness with my chilled breath.
Clink
Click
Squeak.
The door slides open to reveal her in all of her majestic beauty. Her curvaceous physique gracefully attired in a soft beige gown, dipping delightfully between her large breasts – a ruby pendant dancing between them on a slim chain. Hey eyes dart side-to-side before closing the door and starting a slow-paced shuffle along the street.
I follow.
Clinging to the dark doorways and insurmountable archways I go unnoticed. Following the beck and call of her clippety-clop heels. I know not where she is heading and that I need to make my move soon. Afore dawn, at least. I stalk her like a fox does a rabbit, through the twisting, winding, riddling streets of the city. I gain on her, my heart beats frantically, the thought of a fresh feeding excites my senses.
I plunge.
My arms clamp onto her shoulders, thrusting her neck backwards as my fangs penetrate her softly scented neck. Her scream turns to a gurgle as I drink deeply from her. Feeding my need, taking my fill. Pale and drained she collapses to the floor, used and useless. Probably still alive, until dawn at least.
Dawn.
The one thing I fear.
The scorching shards of light that burn through my very soul. The daylight that melts away the shadow that conceals and protects. The rays of light that burn and torch my soft skin are the ones I long never to encounter. But if I’ve never experienced the daylight then how can I be sure it will burn?
I can’t.
Then again, how do mortals know they will plummet to their deaths if they run off a cliff? They don’t, really. Yet they never really know until they’re actually falling. Until it's too late.
It’s all rumours and instinct.
Rumours and Instinct.
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Short and sweet.
Sweet may be the wrong word... ;)
Sweet may be the wrong word... ;)
Couldn't give a crap, shut up with your bad story
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