Contents line comments
Real Estate 10 draining
The New Neighbor 32 cat and mouse
First Date 52 blood exchange
Bloody Echoes 86 predation
Sick Leave 136 realization [arc end]
*** *** ***
Why had he come to her castle, again...? Sell her a house...? He had forgot all about that during dinner. She didn't eat, but rather hover all around him, making conversation - or at least pretending to. Her long, raven-black hair whiped around and gently brushed on his skin as she turned, her slender, pale fingers traced his skin from shoulder to shoulder, her surprisingly cool breath in his ear made his whole body shiver.
Finally the dinner, cooked and served by unseen servants, was finished. She invited him into her office to... Discuss some real estate. She asked all sorts of seemingly irrelevant questions - how close he lived to the house, how big the bed is, what sort of curtains there are... Again, he was seated, the papers spread over her massive red oak table, her pacing around him, looming, drawing ever closer to him. Finally she peered over his shoulder at the papers, her breasts softly pressing into his back. Her slender fingers touched his shoulder, seemingly suggesting - but with no real possibility of fighting it - that he spin to face her. Her previously impassionate, beautiful face was twisted into a leer, her deep red eyes probing his soul like a lantern. Without a word, as in a daze, he sat, and then lied down, on her desk. He tried to move, to speak, to think - but he could not find his way inside his own head.
Through a black mist he watched her pull his trousers down and off in an instant before slowing down to savor the moment. Her face was almost entirely obscured by the haze - he could only make out the contrast between her pearl-white skin and her long, gently wafting hair, black as the night of the Seven Cities outside. The third he could see, well, those were her bright red eyes, glowing, piercing the mist like a raging inferno. He watched those red orbs shrink into almonds as he felt, as if through water, her fingers dance on and under his underwear. Her gaze pounded on his consciousness like a hammer into an anvil, her eyes and his heartbeat almost deafening him.
Instantly as his penis was released into the cool air her mouth descended upon it. He quivered in anticipation of her tongue caressing him all over - only - she stopped with his tip barely behind her lips. Instead, he felt sharp teeth slide into his tender flesh. She clung to him with her teeth, letting his hot blood flow out of him and into her mouth. The clamor in his head seemed to subside, being replaced with a calm - a sensation of an imminent but welcome death. He could feel the sand in the hourglass of his life seep down as his blood seeped out.
In his daze he could faintly feel her tongue massaging his head. It would slide up his frenulum, painfully slowly, before flicking his precum-slick opening like a whip. His dick pulsed with every heartbeat, the blood flowing into her eager mouth, her throat working feverishly to down tiny gulp after another. His consciousness slowly dimmed as he neared almost simultaneous exsanguination and orgasm, until finally his seed shot into her bloodstained mouth and was swallowed in an instant by her eagerly gulping throat. Her parting kiss on his now-soft penis was the last thing he felt before falling into the darkness.
After being drained, he awoke the next morning in a guest room, tired beyond words. She was be nowhere to be found and eventually he went home, dejected. One evening, however, after a month or so, a black, curvaceous shadow stood at the window of the house he had shown her, lit from behind by the fireplace. His spine shivered with a repressed memory, his hair stood on end in nameless terror, and yet his front tightened as if in anticipation.
As if in a daze, he turned away from his own door and took the first step towards the house...
*** *** ***
The New Neighbor
He stood at the door, barely aware that he had arrived. The door opened, seemingly on its own volition, and shut again behind him. A voiceless emotion inside him guided him into a study - furnished with the same sort of dark wood and black leather he seemed to remember from an eternity ago. A woman sat at a massive desk, lit from the side by a fireplace. The firelight caught her eyes as he slowly paced forward - they seemed to flicker with the same ambers and reds as the fire itself. He was captivated by this black-haired beauty, her long hair cut evenly across her forehead somehow familiar.
He instinctively leaned forward as he reached the table, as did she. Her pale, almost pink lips drew ever closer to his as her head subtly turned to meet a kiss. Their lips met, their tongues intertwined - until suddenly he felt needle-sharp teeth dig into his tongue. His mind raced with the memories of their previous encounter, but now there was no mist. His mind was clear, his memories of her assault sharp, his terror at her all too founded. As she released her hold upon his tongue, he fell backwards onto the rug.
He was frozen in place in fear, barely squeaking and crawling backwards from her, as she slowly circled the desk. Her clothes were dominated by the white of her skin, lit a fleeting amber by the fire. Her face was drawn into what could have been a gentle smile, were she not a predator eyeing her next meal. Stark shadows fell on her face as she turned the side of the desk, and soon her face was entirely in shadow as she so deliberately slowly swayed her hips towards his form. He had made barely a pace further than he started when her glowing red eyes descended upon him.
She licked her lips, her long, blood-red tongue lashing the air like that of a snake. He could feel her cold breath on his face, his eyes still locked with hers, even if he could now think clearly. He continued to escape, crawling on his back - she continued to pursue, now on all fours. She crawled above him like a cat stalking her prey, still smiling, still licking her lips, advancing upon him painfully slowly. Finally her face was above his, her hands pressed to the floor either side of his head, her cool exhale becoming his panicked breath. She lowered herself onto him, the soft pressure of her hips and breasts spreading onto his body.
He shook in terror as she closed her eyes and lowered her hungry mouth towards his neck - his death seemed imminent. Instead, her soft lips and wet tongue caressed his neck, his collarbones, his jaw. Slowly her kisses made their way to his face. Finally she raised her head, pulled her lips back to reveal her terrifying teeth, and sprang down onto him like a cobra. He tried to scream like a small animal being eaten, but to his surprise his final shriek was muffled by her mouth pressed onto his. Now her kiss was gentle, as if the kiss of lovers reunited, rather than a sadistic assault.
As she finally broke the kiss, her blood-red eyes flashed, and in an instant he knew what she had in mind for him. This night, or something similar, would play out every night. Perhaps he would visit her, perhaps she would visit him, perhaps they would both go out... The cloud of memories, plans and emotions swirled inside his head, shifting, almost communicating with him, as her eyes shone like rubies in his face. One concept seemed to circle at the edge of his consciousness - eternity.
*** *** ***
A tall woman with jet-black hair and almost white skin sat across a young man at a rather expensive restaurant. She leaned onto the backs of her hands, bent at the wrist to form a table under her jaw, her elbows propped on the table. Her side of the table was conspicously empty, with only a glass and carafe of almost black red wine in front of her. She watched the man eat with a slight smile on her face. She watched the thick, red soup disappear into his mouth spoonful by spoonful. His hair stood on end as he felt like a helpless mouse in a cat's claws. He could have sworn he saw her lick her pale red lips in the corner of his eye.
Finally the meal was finished. The lady had slowly sipped through the entire carafe, yet showed no sign of intoxication. She drew her back straight, pulling her dress tight around her large-ish bust. Her long, straight hair framed the pale skin of her face and partially exposed breasts, leaving a section of almost pure white the shape of a sharpened stake between her hair and black dress. Her commanding, blood-red eyes pierced into his skull, and she stood. Her wide hips swung from side to side as she slowly started away, followed closely by the man. The waiters cowered behind some corner or another until she had disappeared. They sighed in relief, unsure why, exactly, she inspired such disquiet in them. She was obviously a very wealthy lady, to be able to afford the restaurant entirely to herself. They lingered a while, before opening the restaurant for normal business.
An antique car came to a halt outside a less than modest terraced house. Blackened windows obscured the inside, but soon a young man rose out of the roadside door. He circled around the car, opened the opposite door, and took the slender, pale hand of the lady inside. The car rolled away the instant she was outside. She strode to the door before waiting for the man to open it. He did, stepped inside, and turned in place to again grasp her hand and guide her in. The door swung close, as if by itself.
Inside, the woman took charge. Her hand still lightly held in his, she led him to the living room and a large sofa. She sat him down with an almost-imperceptible twist of her hand, as if controlling him like a puppeteer. She sat beside him, finally releasing her touch. He seeped to snap out of a daze - his hair stood on end, his body quivered, his eyes darted around the room. He sat in terror, expecting the worst. Slowly the woman wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself closer and closer to him. Soon her red lips touched his neck, just above his shoulder. Her moist tongue traced a path around his neck to the point fron below his jawline. She kissed and nibbled at his neck as she pulled him over to lean onto her own body.
Her breasts pressed into his back, her mouth teased his neck, her hands spun all around his chest. Suddenly she pulled her head up, drawing her right hand to her face. She opened her mouth to reveal two needle-sharp canines, spun her forearm to place her index and middle finger onto her teeth, and pressed them up to pierce her own skin and flesh. Dark, almost black, blood begun to seep profusely out of her fingertips, dripping onto and staining his jacket and tie before they snaked into his mouth.
She kneaded her bleeding fingers into his mouth, staining his tongue, his teeth, even his gums with the dark liquid. As the blood seeped into his flesh, he felt as if his mind was being strangled and crushed by barbed vines. The black web of her blood tightened around his soul, digging into his consciousness. She wrestled his tongue with her fingers, as he felt his mind slowly be penetrated by her essence. His brain was flooded with her mind, now far more clear than through her commanding gaze. He twitched in her arms as he felt his body being subverted, her taking it away from him.
As his mind reeled, she used her other hand to open his trousers and pull his penis out. She spun to mount him under the hem of her long dress, finally pulling her fingers out of his mouth. She pulled her underwear to the side and slid her cold, dead vagina onto him. His sensation was amplified, almost somehow mirrored. It was as if he could feel both sides of the penetration through the veil of death. She swung her hips in a lazy circle, the heat draining from his manhood into her tight hole before diffusing into her big, soft hips. She slowly, deliberately, menacingly lowered her head to his shoulder - and pierced his neck with her teeth. She rocked back and forth on his penis, simultaneously sucking the blood out of his neck. His heart strained to keep the pressure up as more and more of his life disappeared into her eager throat.
His consciousness faded as his blood was drained. Suddenly he found himself floating in a formless space, wrapped in her arms. She gently kissed him, grinding on him as a gentle lover would. He could feel the emotions emanating from her apparition - lust, thirst, even what seemed like love. Meanwhile, her cold body milked his unconscious body as if trying to absorb his life into herself. Her apparition hugged him to herself, still kissing him, pressing his to her breast. Her icy teeth left his neck, his heart still faintly beating. He felt the formless space darken, and soon the only thing that seemed to exist was her. A faint heartbeat seemed to rise from her soft breast, slowly synchronizing itself with hers. As their hearts finally beat as one, he was brought over orgasm, her spectral orifice continuing to milk him even as spurt after another shot inside her.
His hot seed pulsed from his unconscious form into her icy body. He was barely alive, once again drained almost entirely of blood by her vicious body while caressed by her gentle spirit. The woman sat on top of him, enjoying the vitality flooding into her, and sighed as she hugged him.
The next morning he awoke, still on the sofa, feeling dead. To his surprise, a spoonful of goulash was almost forcibly pushed into his mouth. The air was thick with the smell of paprika wafting from the kitchen. The woman knelt at his head clad only in a while camisole, a bowl of soup in one hand, another slowly feeding it to him. The faintest hint of rose framed her thin smile.
*** *** ***
A young man lay on his own sofa, falling into and out of consciousness. One moment he was being fed, the next he walked through a black forest, then he was being cradled, and again he was elsewhere. A dark, barely lit mansion, cold stones all around him. He was at once present and a spectator - there was someone else in the mansion with him, or perhaps within him. Slowly the flashes of vision converged, and a picture began to form.
The woman seemed immediately familiar. Her dress was unfamiliar - she wore a thin, ever-so-slightly off-white shirt with its full, almost transparent sleeves pulled into cuffs decorated with gold, and matching crimson skirt and bodice. A scarf was gathered around her hair, but that pearly pale skin, those red eyes, that regal bearing - they were all unmistakeable. It was her. He watched her stride out of a door that closed, seemingly on its own, behind her.
Suddenly he was in his home. Dark, heavy curtains were drawn over the windows, and the room was lit only by candles. He could not move, but felt cold fingers caress his scalp. Unable to even turn his head, he nonetheless sensed a presence just outside of his field of view - a terrifying, predatory presence, yet at the same time somehow gentle and comforting. Slowly he fell back into the darkness, where that same aura of impending death awaited him, more acute than ever.
A young girl walked through the dark woods, glancing uselessly to the blackness all around her. The faint moonlight let her see only the faint forms on the trees around her, the barely tread path she followed almost on instinct. He felt the anxiety that she did - she was uncertain of the road, but also afraid of the darkness and what might lurk in the woods. Suddenly she saw a white shadow flash in the darkness.
She took to a run, terrified by the suggestion of a creature in the darkness. She did not make it far in the darkness before a root downed her. She scrambled to rise, only to find an unfamiliar fabric by her face. The girl fell away from it in terror. He could feel the suggestion of a scream, but no words could be heard. Only a constant hum and the beating of a frantic heart. He half watched, half took the girl's hand and helped her up.
The relief of the girl washed over him as she rose to her feet. That woman held her hand and calmly led her through the woods. He seemed to float in confusion, unclear if he was an impartial spectator, the familiar lady, or the frightened girl in this dream. Perhaps he was all at once. Time seemed to lose all meaning as the woman and the girl walked, hand in hand, through the black forest. Finally they came to a clearing.
The girl's hair stood on end - this was not her home. A massive, imposing wooden door rose above her, creaking as it opened. She turned to protest, but the woman's words seemed to calm her down. She entered, if reluctantly. The massive doors swung behind her and the woman, and desperation washed over her. It was too late to escape - perhaps it had been too late for a while now? The woman led her forward by the hand.
A small meal stood on a large table, prepared in advance. The girl ate as the woman watched, only breaking to sip at an opaque metal goblet. The girl's tension grew as the woman stared into her eyes, and into her soul. Finally she slipped, slicing her finger with the knife as she fumbled with a piece of bread. The woman stood in a flash, and the girl fell over with her chair. The ambient heartbeat was now unbearably loud and quick.
The woman slowly creeped closer and closer to the girl as she backed away on her hands and feet. No matter how fast she skittered, the woman seemed to grow closer just as slowly. Finally she backed into a corner - the woman was somehow still several paces away. Her heart beating like a drum, she scrambled to her feet and ran down the nearest corridor. Yet - the oppressive presence grew closer to her with the same, constant pace.
Finally a cold hand grasped her shoulder, pulling her back. She spun, almost falling over, and fell into the woman's arms. A terrifying smile greeted her as she looked away, and he felt her again scream in terror. She tried to escape, but the woman's icy arms stopped her in her tracks. A silk-clad arm wrapped around her rough linen shirt like a shackle, pulling her waist to hers. She felt large breasts press against her back as another cold hand wrapped around her chin.
The girl trashed in horror to no effect - the woman's grip was too strong. She was pulled to her, icy hands caressing her abdomen and face. She felt a cold nose press against the back of her head, working its way around her brown braid to contact her warm skin. The powerful, cold arms pressed her slender body against the cold stone wall, sandwiching her between unyielding, cold andesite and soft, yet somehow equally cold flesh.
Her tiny breasts rubbed painfully against the rough linen and the hard stone behind it as the woman ran her hands down her sides, caressing the gentle curves of the girl's hips and thighs even as her breasts pressed into her frail back, her large hips ramming into her tight butt. The pressure on her small body grew unbearable, and she struggled to draw breath. The woman's lips caressed her neck - and as her hands opened the lacing of her shirt above her breasts, the lips wandered around her shoulders.
Suddenly the woman pulled her away from the wall. Icy hands rose to lock her chest to the woman's, rubbing the tiny bust where the stone had moments before. Before the girl had time to even squeal, she felt needle-like teeth sink into her tender flesh. Her eyes widened, but no scream could escape her lips. With every passing moment more and more of her blood flowed into the woman's eager mouth as she massaged the girl's chest.
He felt arousal and terror flood his mind as he watched, sucked and was sucked all at the same time. The pleasure of the blood flooding the woman's mouth, the cold desperation of the blood being drained out of the girl's neck. Her presence grew fainter with every thirsty gulp, with every painful jerk of powerful arms on the ribs below her flat chest. The jerks grew stronger as she neared death, until he could sense the ribs cracking with the final, orgasmic throbs.
Finally the girl was dead, entirely drained of blood. The woman let go of the body, allowing it to fall to the cold stone floor. The girl's dark eyes were locked in a grimace of desperate terror, but the woman did not care. She felt the warmth spread all around her, pulsing inside her cold flesh. She slowly returned to the dining room, still in disarray, and sat down to finish her drink. As she sipped at it, he was again pulled away.
He opened his eyes to see that same terrifying face staring him in the eyes. Red eyes under black curtains. He, still unable to move, was at her mercy. He half watched, half felt her face approach him until he felt cool lips on his neck. He felt the moist softness of a gentle kiss, and her face again drew back. Cold fingers again caressed his scalp as the woman continued to smile, her lips only barely more pink than her alabaster cheeks.
*** *** ***
A second and third restless night slowly drifted away, filled with fevered dreams. Visions of the woman flashed by, interspesed by moments of wakefulness. In one moment she sat watching him in the gloom, in the next blood fell on snow in the darkness, and then he was again in his home. Slowly the food and rest restored some of his strength, sapped by the massive loss of blood. The waking moments grew longer and more lucid, and the visions became faded and fragmented.
Finally he stayed awake for more than drowsy, half-remembered seconds. That pale face stared him in the face next to him, eyes closed. Tiny rays of sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains to illuminate the walls by the window, reflected just enough for him to be able to see. She looked beautiful, almost serene as she slept, as if an entirely different person to that killer in the visions. Even so, the man felt something terrifying hiding behind just behind the delicate features.
The tether wrapped around his mind felt weaker than it had since the day they had met. For once, he did not feel a haze in front of, or a leash wrapped around, his consciousness. He watched her sleep, her usually perfectly arranged hair now fallen haphazardly around her face, her self-assured expression replaced by gently pursed lips. He felt as if he saw her for what she truly was - in an instant he knew exactly what to do once she awoke.
The white eyelids suddenly opened in a flash to reveal blood-red eyes hidden beneath. As the young man felt something wrap around and twist his will, he jerked forward to act before he was again subsumed. His lips collided with hers in a barely controlled kiss. The woman's piercing eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly regained her composure. She spun herself on top of him on the sofa, her long, dark hair grazing his cheek as she did.
Her soft breasts and hips pressed onto his body through her evening dress, as terrifyingly sensual as in the visions. She flipped her hair over her neck, letting it fall to one side. Her face was framed and shadowed by hanging black hair, lit only by the unnatural fire of her eyes. She grinned, licking her bared, needle-like canines with enough force to draw her own blood, and descended onto him. Her cool lips teased his neck and shoulders, the soft touch lulling him into a contented bliss before her teeth touched his skin.
He felt his blood freeze as she slowly pushed her teeth into his flesh. He fought to control his body as her influence again began to dominate his will. He mustered all his strength to lift his arms. Slowly they approached her neck as she slowly suckled at his neck, now more slowly than the previous times. Finally he grasped her silky hair, gently hugging her head to his chest. The woman froze for a moment, then let her weight down on her chest and wormed her arms under his head.
For a moment they embraced each other, her teeth still inside his neck, gently squeezing their bodies together. Her cold, dead flesh sucked the heat out of him, but the chill running down his spine was almost pleasurable. The seconds turned to minutes without his consciousness fading from the blood loss - something was different. He could not move with the teeth still inside him, however, and was forced to only stroke her head as he almost nursed her with her blood.
Finally her teeth slid out of him with a gasp. She raised herself up onto her arms to face him. The regal, aloof expression she usually wore was replaced with a knowing smirk - as if she now realized something she had no before. She craned her neck to kiss him, pushing her cool tongue inside his mouth. The nicks from her own teeth still seeped blood, and a now familiar sense of being subsumed crept into the young man's mind.
In that moment the vision returned, clear as day, but somehow different. He watched and felt he woman stir a pot on the stove in a modern house. The surroundings were a blurred gray, he could not focus on them, but something seemed familiar. She poured a bowl of the thick liquid and almost seemed to float with it into a larger room. A motionless form lay on the sofa, and she knelt by it. He felt something similar to the lust of the previous visions, but gentler. As he felt the woman gather some soup into a spoon, the emotion became clear. It was love.