by Justin
The Man stands just in the hallway looking past the partially closed door in to the playroom. Children ages 4 through 8 are happily playing all types of games with each other and an older girl. The teenager stops to stare at a picture drawn by one of the children. She becomes intent on it for a long period of time, and then finally looks down with pity at the child who made the drawing. She whispers to him softly, "You should let someone know."
Gently rubbing his cross, the man concentrates on not being seen, a difficult task because it was so different from his nature, but he persevered. He ponders the scene. ‘How pleasant they look. No screaming, no fear. Yet If I walked into this room there would be instant panic.’ He shakes his head slightly and almost regrets many things. ‘At least I can give them their childhood.’ Though he knows that his very presence helps destroy this fragile gift.
The older girl starts to stalk around like a cat, her motions and silence utterly feline, making some of the children laugh.
The man snaps from his reverie and goes back to studying the victims inside, watching the performance, as always, observing, weighing. ‘I think she is trying to look like an animal.’ Though why the children found this funny he did not understand.
The kitty-sitter pounces on a little child, tickling them, threatening to lick them like a mommy kitty. She laughs as the small one giggles with glee.
The man watches the performance with interest but continues to caress the old wooden cross on his sash. ‘I am not here, I am not here.’ The teen-mommycat releases her child-kitten and stalks around a bit more. He continues to watch the display. ‘It seems to be working. No one is looking at me.’
Little by little, the children crawl into their beds and fall to play-exhausted, happy sleep. The teen starts to soundlessly creep towards the door. The man slowly moves back so that she may slip out. She maintains her silent kitty walk even once outside the room.
The man waits patiently for the teenager to slip out the door so as not to disturb the children. His finger softly touches his lips for silence though she moves like a very shadow herself. Once the teen is out of the play-sleep area completely he gracefully closes the door and induces the thin teen to another room.
She heeds his subtle direction without daring to look directly at him, slipping into the indicated chamber. Stepping into this room the man closes the door after them and quietly approaches the quivering young woman until he is looming over her, very much like a hawk might with a mouse. His robes gently rustle as he raises an arm and exposes a length of pale forearm.
With a suddenly tormented mien, she grabs handfuls of hair with shivering hands, forcibly pulling herself down to her knees as if an opposing force tries to keep her standing. Slowly bending at the knees the man flows with the girl staying near enough to brush her with his robe. She releases her hold on her hair, scooping up and cradling his wrist with both hands. Now taking her hair and wrapping his fingers through its tresses he gets a firm hold. The teen slowly looks up, meeting the man’s predatory gaze with a plea in her eyes. "Please make me stop…"
"It is that time." The words flow out like warm wine. Gently the man pushes her head toward his exposed flesh.
The teen shrinks with defeat and allows her lips to press against his wrist. She then rubs her face from forehead, to cheek, to chin slowly across his wrist and hand, then back up again, resting her forehead on the thin skin below the palm. Looking down still, she whispers almost coyly, "What are you afraid of?"
Entwining his fingers yet further through her hair he steps closer and carefully presses his wrist closer to her lips, whispering back like a breath from a tomb, "The grave." The youth trembles at his nearness, "I fear death and what is beyond." His words seep into her hearing. "I fear what no one can know."
She murmurs back softly, lips brushing across his wrist, "I fear never knowing what is beyond." Her canines glide across the surface of his dead skin. Then, brushing her cheek along his wrist again, she catches his eye, "But you will show me that someday, I think." The teen smiles at him with eerie, childlike solace.
He bends closer still, until his lips are not quit touching her ear. "Yes I will grant you that boon someday," the words flow like silk. "By my lips shall you someday meet the great beyond."
The young woman quakes at the promise. She breathes out, her lips caressing his flesh, "Reality paints itself obscene," and bites until the thin covering of skin gives way, shocking at the draught. The man stiffens as her teeth penetrate the cool flesh. His hand tightening in her hair he pushes her harder into his arm, betraying a subtle gasp. She shudders at his reaction then closes her eyes allowing the liquid sin to flow through her with morose euphoria. The teen swallows harder, deeper, with the pressure on the back of her head, then closes her eyes hard and tries to pull away.
His body quivering from his essence pouring into her, the man bends down, keeping her pressed against his flesh. The man slides his lips down her neck until he finds the joint between neck and shoulder. The girl recoils slightly at the cold lips sliding down her skin. He bites cleanly and deeply into the muscle and flesh, his teeth sinking in far to find and free her vitae. ‘No,’ his mind rebels the act, but the word is lost among the waves of heat and joy that race through his body.
The young woman stiffens as her world explodes in a kaleidoscope of euphoria and terror, barely maintaining her hold on his arm, drinking as she is fed from. Now pulling her hair back he frees his wrist and exposes more of her throat. With sensual pain Joseph slides his razor sharp fangs through her flesh until he reaches the traditional spot on her neck, leaving a deep gash behind him. She gasps at the gouging then succumbs to the abyss of dark pleasure.
Bringing his arm around he pulls her into him and drinks on as the waves wash over him, threatening to drown out all reason. The teen convulses with attempts at action. She reaches a clenched hand up to his shoulder, then another on his other side, focusing her will on a meager attempt to push him away.
Again his non-beast mind implores, "No." The word works its way slowly through his mind. The teen starts to shake, quivering under the kiss. Liquid life surging through his body the man barely notices. His mind commands again, ‘NO!’ as every rapturous convulsion of the one beneath him screams, ‘Yes…’
With an act of will the man jerks his fangs out of the teens throat, splattering his orange robe with bits of her scarlet vitae. The teen ‘s hands fall down as a marionette’s with strings cut would, then with sudden anguish reaches up grabs her hair and scalp again, clawing of flesh softly heard in the still silence. The man rises and drags her up with him. She looks up into his eyes with awe. "No," he states quietly. "Once more in control." Slowly untangling her fingers from her hair, she nods without removing her gaze from his, her eyes bright with obsession.
Looking down into her gleaming eyes, a smile briefly touches his hard features. Raising his hand he gently once more tilts her head and this time closes the wound he had given her with a cool brush of his lips. Then raising his arm to her he waits. She gently lifts his wrist, ensuring that no harm remains, kissing it subtly before lowering it.
Shakily turning the man helps guide the teen out the door and back to the children.