So I found this on an old jumpdrive and I thought you guys might help me clean it up a bit. I fully intend to work on it eventually, but I have a few stories going already and I can't keep focused. If you're young, this may be a little inappropriate. It doesn't have swearing or any sex sense or anything, but if you've read Anne Rice you know how heated emotions can be.
He watched his prey from the shadows, silently following her. When she stopped and nervously looked around he shifted out of her sight. She hurriedly continued home.
The moonlight cast an eerie glow about the girls raven hair and milky skin. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were rosy pink, caressed by the bitter wind. She wrapped her jacket tighter around her, both from the cold and the ghostly aura of her stalker.
He stepped out of the darkness in front of her and smiled. Her chocolate eyes glued themselves to his elongated canines and she froze like a deer in the headlights. A gust of wind blew her sweet scent to the vampire goading him to cock his head so to catch it better. The hunger grew in him. An ancient and powerful hunger that forced his next action.
Seeing the predator disappear before her eyes sent the girl running. She kicked of her shoes and fumbled with her purse, trying to retrieve her cell phone. When it slipped from her hand she squealed and stumbled, falling to the ground. Before she scrambled off, the vampire stood before her.
His senses heightened, he opened himself to the night, letting it all flow in. the cascade of moonlight, the gentle breeze throwing the girl’s essence to him to cherish, the strain of his weak heart next to the human’s thundering beats, her voice pleading with him.
“Please! Please let me go! I have a family! Please!” She screamed to a deaf ear. He had heard it all before. It was always the same plea. But he never really understood it. Did they fear for their families livelihoods after they perished? Were they so egotistical that they would think their families were doomed without them? Or did they beg for themselves? To point out that they have something to live for? And did it ever cross their minds that they were begging a killer not to harm someone’s life. What should he care if their families missed them?
But as he listened to her beg he heard something that stopped him dead. Her body wasn’t normal. Something was off. Was she sick? No, as he concentrated it became clear what was wrong. There, a tiny heart, drowned out by its mother’s racing rhythm.
Alistair stood, frigid with alarm. No matter who he had killed in the past, he couldn’t kill this fragile being, who hadn’t even taken its first breath. He stared at the girl. She was young for a mother, and there was no ring on that left hand. How times had changed…
To the girl’s bewilderment Alistair let himself be carried away by the wind, drifting into a mist. He was in awe that he had missed such an important detail when he had picked the girl and irritated that he hadn’t been able to feed. It would have to wait until the next night. The sky was a dangerous shade of light grey. He would have to hurry to make it to safety.
Alistair woke in agony. His throat was ablaze and his veins felt as if they had been drained. In one violent lurch, he sat up, tasting the air that held no satisfaction for him. He hungered and soon would be wild with the need for blood, but the stinging that buzzed across his skin warned of the sun, sitting just above the horizon waiting to take him.
He dressed slowly, savoring the feel of cloth against his skin. The sweet caresses stirred the hunger further. He laughed, his blood teeth tender, sensitive, his muscles taut and yearning. Finally, the sun sat and the stars called to him. They begged for him to come out, for him to be a king among them. The night offered its glories and pleasures. Yes, the moon would care for him tonight. He would feast.
She was perfect. Sensual and strong, she carried herself with an air he couldn’t refuse. Alistair drifted through the crowd and she became keenly aware of him. Letting the music guide their bodies, they danced. His arms slid around her, feeling her shape and the life flowing through her. She pulled him closer and enjoyed his passion. Music pounded through them, other bodies so close to theirs made them feeling almost spiritual. Alistair bent his head and inhaled the heady aura of her skin. Then, in a moment of pure excitement, his teeth pierced her skin and he immersed himself in the sensation of life. She gasped but was soon overcome with the passion and splendor Alistair felt. When she had given all that she had Alistair whispered into her ear and left her. Her lifeless body crumbled and landed broken on the dance floor. For an instant clubbers backed away, screaming, making a ring around the woman with the rose colored stain and faded eyes, but suddenly, as if on cued, they shot into action. Some called police, a few did what they could to revive her, and some tried to find her killer but he was long gone into the night, drunk on pleasure.
Alistair found two more that night, both young, beautiful women. When he finally made his way to the, he was light hearted and free. Almost human. But that’s what it was to take in another person. You almost become them, and you always take part of them with you after you’re finished. Sometimes, Alistair hated the sensation of living someone else’s life but that night was different. It was as if he had been starving and alone for thousands of years and had stumbled upon a feast and a brothel. He thought that nothing could spoil his mode. But when the doors of the swung open, he new that he had been mistaken
