A soft cough makes the lad look up, and then his eyes widen and he tries to get away from her. The her with a long cape swirling around her booted ankles, the her in a crimson corset and black laces, black fishnet stockings clasp her long legs and the single, white glove on her hand, a splash of colour yet somehow all the more chilling for it. All mortals know and can understand, on an instinctive level, how a vampire is their predator.
“Wh-who are you?” He stammers out, his voice still containing a boyish quality.
“I am either your saviour or your death.” Comes the calm, and somewhat cold reply. A wind blows in through the window, ruffling the pale, pale woman’s long cloak. He shivers violently, rubbing his bare arms in an effort to get warm but she doesn’t notice the cold, or doesn’t seem to.
“What do you mean? H-how did you get in here!”
“You have reached the end of your pitiful existence, one way or the other, the only choice you have really is how you will go.” She replies, extending a white hand, silver in the moonglow from out the barred window. Her eyes dark, fathomless, bottomless to his fearful eyes gazing up at her. “You can join me, accept my gift, reject it to be destroyed by your brethren, or become my meal.” She continues, her full lips moving in her face, black in the moonlight.
He blinked, stunned, but already his mind was processing the information.
He most definitely did not want to die, by any method, so that only left one option, accepting this…gift of hers. “What kind of gift?” he asks suspiciously, slowly standing.
Her lips curve into a triumphant smile, he’s hooked. Now all she has to do is reel him in…”Immortality, of never having to eat cooked meals again, the flesh of any creature, plant or animal. That is the gift I’m offering you.” She murmurs softly, walking towards him, her hand still extended.
“What’s the catch?”
“You’ll never see your friends again, nor the sun.”
“Alright…I guess, it’s not like I’d be missed.” He reaches out and takes her cold hand, hard, like marble. He spares almost a whole second in hesitation once his hand’s in her grip, but then she’s pulling him into her embrace and all else is forgotten.
The vampiress almost purrs, he’s hers! Enfolding her arms around him, she holds his fragile mortality, the brief spark of that flame of life against her immortal coldness, savouring the warmth, the oh so fleeting warmth of life. Then, her grip changes, one cold, slender hand holding his shoulder the other tilting his head to the side, baring his sweet throat to her. Her lips brush down over his cheek, his ear, kissing, caressing the skin of the lad before they settle on the frantically beating pulse in his neck.
He shivers, a faint fission of fear as he realises that she is a lot older than he thought, not in her twenties, but older, ancient, hundreds of years old. Then, the sharp kiss, the pain of her teeth sinking into his neck, puncturing the artery, the drag of her mouth as she draws his blood out of his veins and into her, a much needed and desired meal.
Vision darkening, the lad sways in the immortals grasp, just shy of fainting when her lips and mouth withdraw, leaving the boy standing, stranded as the link that ties him to mortality frays…and then snaps.
He shudders, his mouth releasing her wrist and she seals the wounds, releasing him. He stiffens, back arching, a cry of pain echoing through the prison, a weeping cry of immortal agony as he dies. His muscles spasaming, cramping throughout his body, worse than any cold gut cramp, or dehydrated awakening in the night. Purest of possibility of pain, that any mortal body can withstand shudders through his body, but of course, it is more than he can endure and survive as the nerves in his body shudder, frail, weak and die. His breath seizes in his throat, his lungs tightening, empty of life-giving air and his undulating and echoing scream is cut short, the echoes reverberating off the walls. He shudders, uncontrollable twitching throughout his limbs as he feels his heart stop and the reflex actions in his nerves takes over, spasaming and objecting to the rigid immobility of death.
Yet her hands are there, the vampires, holding his dying body in a warm and firm embrace, supporting as her prey endures the painful and quite frankly, messy ordeal of dying. She releases him only when the body looses control of the excretion and he rids his body of the human waste, the last reminder of his mortality. Shuddering after shedding his mortal life like unwanted skin, he rises, trembling from the floor he runs his tongue curiously over his teeth, gazing up at the beauty before him as a strange new hunger fills his mind.
“Come.” She says, extending her hand once more “Now we Feed.”
