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A Vampire's blood

Short story By: MissGangamash

A story written from a vampire's point of view about his need for one particular girl's blood.

Submitted:Oct 11, 2012    Reads: 150    Comments: 12    Likes: 7   

She needs you. You can tell by the way she looks at you. You found it flattering at first but now you feel her eyes on you all the time and it sends a chill up your spine. She's been with you for a month now. She could leave whenever she wants but she doesn't. She wants to be with you all the time. If it was anyone else, you would have killed her already. But she has something of value. Her blood. It's so exquisite. Something you've never tasted before. You have tasted blood before; it's what you crave on an hourly basis. But hers just has that extra kick.

You're feeding from her now. From her wrist. You felt like biting into her neck felt too...tacky. Too personal. She throws her head back and she lets of a moan that comes from deep within. You have branded her all over her body. She likes the marks though. You see her sometimes smiling at herself in the mirror, stroking them with admiration.

She loves you. Which turns out to be in your favour because if she didn't, you'd know she'd run. And you'd have to hunt her down which would require a lot of effort so once you'd finally catch her, you'd drink her dry. And then you'd have to scour the land for another mortal as delicious as her. If any did exist.

You wipe the blood that drips from your lips and look into her eyes. She smiles and strokes your cheekbone as if to thank you. You bite into your own forearm and push the open wound to her lips. She grabs your arm by both hands and feeds from you hungrily. You figured that she must have thought that this was some special ritual to bond you together as one because you knew that it wasn't the usual dietary needs for a mortal yet she laps the blood up with as much joy as you do. But in actual fact, it's a way to keep her from shrivelling up like a raisin. Your blood in her allows you to keep taking blood from her. You guess in a way, it is some sort of ritual. An endless circle. You've planned to keep her for as long as time will keep her on this earth.

You notice the sun ready to rise so you ascend to the bedroom. She follows as if she's attached by a leash. You've told her again and again that she can enjoy the sun because she can. But she is somehow under the impression that it would upset you. So she sleeps in the day and wakes at night just like you. She snuggles up to you in bed. You used to try and push her off but you'd wake a few hours later with her somehow coiled around you again. So you gave up. You guess that now you would miss it if she stopped. You need her too.

You wake and shower. She's still fast asleep. You like to listen to the melody of her breathing. The way her chest raises and falls. You tip-toe past her and head down the stairs. You make yourself a round of toast and sit on the sofa. The food doesn't satisfy you but you eat it anyway. You jump to your feet and the sound of a scream, a tumble, a heavy thump and a crack. Your brows furrow with confusion and you head to the hallway where the sound seemed to originate. She's at the bottom of the stairs in a heap. Her head is twisted at an awkward angle. An angle which could not be mastered without a broken neck. Had she fallen on purpose? Thrown herself to her death because she couldn't deal with you anymore? Maybe she had clung to you in fear, not lust. And it had finally pushed her over the edge. You feel a hollow pit in your stomach. Your food source ran out sooner than you had anticipated.

But then her head twitched. Her neck snaps back into position and her eyes rolled to life. You watch as she got to her feet like a puppet being yanked up by strings. She studies herself with a wide smile. She then looks straight at you. Her eyes now as dark as yours. Her fangs poked out of the bottom of her lips.

"Hello" she said coyly, closing the distance between you. You smile as she stands in front of you. She places her hand softly on the back of your neck and pushes your head down so your lips meet hers. Her hands trail up the hem of your shirt and you feel her fingers rubbing up your abdominals. You smile, close your eyes and do the same. Your hands trace her stomach then stop at her chest. You open your eyes to watch her as you thrust your fist through her chest, smashing her ribs and clutching her heart. Her eyes widen in sheer terror and her lips pull from yours. She tries to speak but she can't. You'd like to think that she was pleading. You yank out her heart and watch her collapse. You let the plump blood bag roll off your fingers and hit the floor like a wet sponge. You didn't need her anymore.


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