Hi, this is my first entry here so it would be great to hear any comments anyone has on it and any ways to improve the story. Thankyou very much for your time!
All was quiet. The velvet night was heavy, suffocating to all those who dared walk within it. Clouds crept across the sky, straining to wade their way through the thick blanket of darkness. The moon seemed pale and sickly against the richness of black and struggled to stretch its feeble tendrils of light to reach the cracked concrete of Richmond Street below. The one lamp lit upon the corner was little to no improvement as its feeble bulb stuttered and died. No sound. No one stirred from within their houses, no flickering of TV’s, no drifting of music, nothing. He smiled to himself, a mere twitch at the corner of the mouth, at how easy it all was. How peaceful, how beautiful, how dreadfully majestic tonight was. He could sense her, smell her, scent her distinct aroma that filled his senses and enveloped him in a tingling pleasure. She was not far. Each soft footfall of his brought him closer and closer to her. His whole body shuddered and trembled in anticipation at what awaited him, his luscious reward. Her breath, her sweet, teasing breath before the bite. Her fragile body engulfed by his, her gentle curves shivering against his torso of stone.
A flash. Brilliant white shining through the surrounding gloom. A fire crackled in his eyes, every hair stood on end. A little further. He glimpsed a limp porcelain hand, lifeless, across the pavement. A trim of lace at the hem of a floating nightgown. Another flicker of a smile. She lay before him, a waterfall of gold cascading down one shoulder to curl down at her waist. Lips; rose petals of pink brushed lightly upon snowy skin. Delicate eye lashes curved gracefully back from closed lids. Her bare feet arched in points as though artfully poised for dance at any moment. He stooped low onto one knee and swept one arm gently behind her fragile form to raise her to him. She did not stir, her flimsy dress rippling in the movement of air as he held her head to rest upon his chest. He kissed the crown of her head so softly as to be a whisper of lips upon her hair and his fingers traced the outline of her half exposed arm. Such beauty, such innocence. He longed for her, he craved her skin against his, her lips, her fingertips, her everything.
Her eyelids snapped open, so quickly as to have been triggered by some unknown trip wire, her body once so soft and frail became rigid, as hard as marble and as cold as ice. He did not move from his position half kneeling on the pavement as she swivelled her head to look up into his eyes, hers once closed in such loving serenity now burning coals of desire. Her stone arms reached around his head and wrenched it backwards to expose the pulsing vein at his throat. As her fingers entwined in his hair she drew her lips back into a snarl, her canines shining as sharpened knives of pearl. A dive, no sound as teeth sunk deep into skin and drew the salty life from him. His mouth opened as if to gasp, but no noise escaped his paling lips. Each draught brought pink to her cheeks, life to her body and her chest heaved with the force of her thirst. Her vision span, her grip tightening as rush after rush of blood ran through her. Each drop was taken, nothing left but a dried husk of a man at the end of her drink. She released him from her hands, clumps of dark hair falling from her fingers as his body came to rest on the pavement beneath. Wiping a hand across her mouth as one would after finishing a meal, she climbed elegantly to her feet sparing not a single look at her victim whose eyes still stared up in adoration. She walked from the scene, a white angel drifting back into the darkness with only the dead to tell of her sins.
Rawr, I bite. 
