When she asked me to tell her about myself, I thought why not. I had some time to...kill. After all, the night was still young and I had no need to go out again. I knew from the second I saw her that she’d be coming home with me.
I first noticed her across the dance floor in a trendy club uptown, some cramped building with monochromatic colors and minimalistic furniture. I was leaning against the wall with an overpriced drink in my hand, a few ounces of ruby-colored vodka. I was looking, waiting, salivating. Suddenly, like a curtain that unveils to reveal a grand prize, the sea of people parted, leaving her single in my sights. She was standing at the bar, a mixture of nerves and excitement along her brow, just above her immaculate eye makeup. I could tell this wasn’t the first time she had been in the club. She looked around, not as if she were new, only slightly uncomfortable. I guessed she had been here before, but with girl friends. This was the first time she had come alone. Her brunette stick straight hair was parted down the middle and arranged in front of her breasts which were barely covered by her tight fitting shimmer dress. The strobe lights illuminated her hair and skin in a technicolor of tints. Her face was lineless, clueless. Her body taut, tasty. She was young, tender, smooth. Most importantly, I could tell she was easy.
I slid my way past the gyrating bodies and headed straight for this girl, this tasty morsel who out-shined the rest of the plastic people who were slinging their drinks and grinding their crotches into each other. She noticed me coming toward her and turned away. A shy smile spread across her glossed lips. In that instant I knew she would do whatever I wanted. I slid my way next to her and introduced myself. Her smile grew wider and whiter. Perfect teeth. Fake. I knew she thought I was hottest guy in the club. I was. I wasted no time and quickly offered to buy her a few drinks. We engaged in small talk but I knew it was all just a formality and ultimately she’d be back at my place. It was all just meaningless dribble to me. I could care less about this girl and realized she would be a lot hotter without a tongue. Right from the first look into her cloudy eyes, I could see her desperation to be loved. I could smell the loneliness clinging to her clothes. It mingled with the mint in my drink and the delicate perfume which hovered over her like a halo. Her smell made me as intoxicated as I was trying to get her with every fresh drink I put in front of her. She lapped them up like a dog. Like a little bitch. She was my favorite type of girl: lonely, painfully insecure. These types were the easiest to bag. After I quelled her comprehension with a couple of Cosmos, I instructed her to leave with me. Yes, instructed. She was not in the right mind to deny me. The alcohol had allowed me to dominate this girl, although I imagine I could have without it. Still acting like a dog, eager to please me, she agreed to leave with me, a total stranger, a man she had never met yet intended to let screw her. She was desperate for a little attention, hungry for a little affection. I was hungry, too.
On the way to my apartment, she clung to me tighter than her dress clung to her hips. She was a really sad girl. Terribly insecure. She was looking for a strong, handsome man like me to suck away that sadness. I was more than obliged.
I opened the door to my place and she opened her mouth to tousle my tongue. She wasted no time. It had been a long time since she had been in the company of a man. Her hands were everywhere, her breath smelled Jolly Ranchers and innocence. She peppered my face with soft kisses, her lip gloss smearing across my cheek. I hate when girls do that. Disgusted, I pulled her face off of mine and pushed her onto my couch. She landed with a soft thud, a coy smile carved into her mouth, her eyes illuminated by lust. By this reaction, I could tell she liked it a bit rough. Not only was she pathetic and miserable, but there was a touch of kink in her as well. I could work with that.
I straddled her on the leather couch and with every deep kiss, her moans got louder and I became more aroused. She was dumb and disgusting but she was also smoking hot. I went down to her throat and tickled it with my lips, flicking my tongue over the length of her neck. Her head went back and her shimmering hair fell away from her shoulders. The couch squeaked in response to her wiggling. I love that sound. I placed my hand on her head and clutched a clump of hair, then roughly pulled her head to one side. A giggle floated up from her face. Yeah, she definitely liked it hard. Maybe she even enjoyed a little pain. I wondered how much she liked. I wondered how bad it would hurt before those screams of pleasure pushed into pain. I’d find out soon enough.
I licked her neck until it was nice and wet, ready for me to penetrate. A delicate blue vein ran right below her bejeweled ear, presenting itself like a gift. Just what I was looking for. I caressed it with my fingers, cajoled it to rise from her skin and finally knew it was time. With her eyes closed she would never see me coming. I opened my mouth and allowed my teeth to elongate. They pushed forth out of my gums and formed razor sharp tips. I went down on her neck slowly, savoring those last few seconds before desire turned into death, licking up and down, softening the skin for easier injection. Just before I could penetrate the soft flesh of her throat, she turned her head and opened her eyes.
Sometimes I have these girls in so much ecstasy they lose all sense of time and location. They usually close their eyes and submit to my seduction. Sometimes they do catch me right before I bite but it doesn't stop me from doing the deed. I prefer them never to notice, as their screams disturb the neighbors. I then have to go to the trouble of speaking to those worthless bags of flesh and apologize to them by lying and say I was having rough, loud sex. That usually gets them off my back, although they are left feeling awkward by my direct openness. Idiots. I looked at this sexy, yet stupid girl and she wasn't screaming. She didn't look horrified at all. Actually, she looked quite amused. Her sparkly eyes lit up in wonder. I had to lean back in my perplexity. Her smile became huge. My teeth immediately retracted in disgust and confusion. An unfortunate case of involuntary shrinkage.
I didn't really know how to go about dealing with this new turn of events so I simply asked her why she was smiling. She excitedly told me I was a vampire. She acted as if it were some revelation to me, as if she was telling me I had won a million dollars. I knew who I was but she had no idea the danger she was in. Her voice rose in an annoyingly high pitched tone that scraped my ears. She told me she had always wanted to meet a real vampire, always wanted to be turned into one herself. I had to laugh at her idiocy. Was she being serious or was she just delusional with fear? I shot a look into her eyes which caused the sparkle to fade. She became the confused one. I informed her that she in fact did not want to become a vampire. It was nothing like in the movies or in those homoerotic books. It was actually a sick existence. But, she only looked at me like I was lying to her, as if I was trying to convince her of something she knew to be untrue. I could tell she was stupid when I first met her, so I guess it was no shock that I couldn't persuade her into believing something she had already made up her mind about. Stupid, ignorant, stubborn humans. She was in the dark on the issues and she was intent to remain that way. I'm I'm to be honest, I was slightly surprised, slightly intrigued to see there was no fear on her overly made up face. This confused me and when I get confused, I get angry. And when I get angry, I get mean. And when I get mean, I leave nothing left. I leave no nerve untouched, no vein uncharted until I place my meal into such unspeakable pain that they beg for death, pray for it. And I deliver it at a dawdling pace. Normally, these little girls only have two reactions to me: I make them hot and then I make them scared, which makes me hot. That was the way it has been for years and years. This one was ruining my rhythm. I was ready to kill her right then and there but something held me back, an indistinguishable something that prevented the puncture.
I guess this girl had piqued my curiosity. I guess there was nothing wrong with keeping her around a little longer, just to see how idiotic she could be. She'd be my entertainment before she was my dinner. She made herself comfortable on my couch and then propped her chin on her hand. She leaned forward and asked me to describe my “life” as a vampire. I had simply planned on tearing her throat out and after disposing of her body, catching up on some sleep. But, this girl’s stupidity was intriguing. I had never met anyone who was genuinely excited to meet the deliverer of their death. Perhaps it was her inebriation or sheer lack of brain cells, but I suppose she still believed I was interested in her for more than her body. I suppose she believed I wouldn’t harm her. I suppose she believed I’d even grant her my gift. She was lucky I wasn’t too hungry and didn’t have any plans for the rest of the night. I didn’t mind stringing her along for a few hours longer. I know it’s incredibly rude to play with your food, but I have to admit it was a different feeling knowing she was still so into me even after she knew what exactly I was. Besides, I hadn’t engaged in an actual conversation with anyone for years now, if you don't count the usual small talk to lure unsuspecting blood bags back to my apartment. So, I decided to set her straight on what being a vampire truly meant. I leaned back on the other side of the couch and began to explain to her why exactly she should never want to be like me...
To be continued...
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