Contributor: Christina Jones
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“You are lovely,” he whispered.
“You are trying to win me with flattery,” she giggled.
The man was unusually tall with dark brown eyes and black hair. He was enchanting. She met him outside of the local pub.
“Oh, I do not have to try to win anything. I can just take what I want,” he replied.
With these words, she became startled. The man could see her fear begin to grow.
“Why, what ever do you mean?” She asked.
With a slight smile, he inched forward and with this step, she moved backwards. His smiled grew bigger.
“Well?” She asked.
As soon as the word was audible, his mouth was at her throat. Terrified, she started to scream. The man placed his free hand around her neck and began to squeeze.
“Shhhh…” he started. “You musn’t make a sound. Otherwise, we will be discovered. You don’t want that do you?”
Frozen, her pupils grew bigger and her voice silenced itself. The man loosened his grip around her neck and began running his hand down her side. He was gentle and appropriate, cautious never to touch her in a place that an unwed couple shouldn’t. He believed in being a gentleman, even in the worst of situations, and this was a bad situation.
“This isn’t going to hurt much. I promise,” he whispered into her ear. “You musn’t scream. It will only make things worse.”
So, the tall man wrapped his left arm around her waist and proceeded to lean her back, as if they were dancing. With his other hand, he swept her long, curly hair away from her shoulders and lowered his face toward the hollow of her neck. She shivered with the touch of his cold breath. He quickly kissed her skin and traced his lips toward her mouth. With an easy motion, their lips touched. In that instant, the woman closed her eyes and her body relaxed. As soon as this happened, the man opened his mouth and two fangs appeared, glistening in the dark. In one swift motion, his mouth was around her throat, his fangs deep in her skin.
The beautiful woman whimpered in response to the touch of his fangs. So, he relented, only for a moment. Raising his head, little drops of blood from his fangs landed gracefully on her dress.
“Now look what you’ve done,” he said. “You’ve made me soil your dress. One moment longer, I shall be on my way, but only if you’re quiet,” he finished.
After only a minute, he released his grip and wiped his mouth. He wore a look of satisfaction across his face.
“I do hope you had a good time. I’ve quite enjoyed myself,” he said.
Staring into her eyes, he smiled briefly. “I do wish that you could remember me. Too bad things have to be the way that they are. You’ll forget me in only a moment’s time, but you, you I will remember for a lifetime.”
With a tip of his hat, he was around the corner and on his way. The woman was left standing on the dark street in her fanciest dress. At the very moment the man rounded the corner another stranger appeared.
“My dear, what are you doing out here so late and alone?” He asked.
“I can't remember,” she answered.
“Was that a man turning down the alley? Who was that man?” He asked.
“I don't know. A stranger, I suppose.”
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Christina is a wife, mother, blogger and creative writing student. She is currently in the editing trenches with her first novel and hopes to publish it sometime in this century.
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- -
“You are lovely,” he whispered.
“You are trying to win me with flattery,” she giggled.
The man was unusually tall with dark brown eyes and black hair. He was enchanting. She met him outside of the local pub.
“Oh, I do not have to try to win anything. I can just take what I want,” he replied.
With these words, she became startled. The man could see her fear begin to grow.
“Why, what ever do you mean?” She asked.
With a slight smile, he inched forward and with this step, she moved backwards. His smiled grew bigger.
“Well?” She asked.
As soon as the word was audible, his mouth was at her throat. Terrified, she started to scream. The man placed his free hand around her neck and began to squeeze.
“Shhhh…” he started. “You musn’t make a sound. Otherwise, we will be discovered. You don’t want that do you?”
Frozen, her pupils grew bigger and her voice silenced itself. The man loosened his grip around her neck and began running his hand down her side. He was gentle and appropriate, cautious never to touch her in a place that an unwed couple shouldn’t. He believed in being a gentleman, even in the worst of situations, and this was a bad situation.
“This isn’t going to hurt much. I promise,” he whispered into her ear. “You musn’t scream. It will only make things worse.”
So, the tall man wrapped his left arm around her waist and proceeded to lean her back, as if they were dancing. With his other hand, he swept her long, curly hair away from her shoulders and lowered his face toward the hollow of her neck. She shivered with the touch of his cold breath. He quickly kissed her skin and traced his lips toward her mouth. With an easy motion, their lips touched. In that instant, the woman closed her eyes and her body relaxed. As soon as this happened, the man opened his mouth and two fangs appeared, glistening in the dark. In one swift motion, his mouth was around her throat, his fangs deep in her skin.
The beautiful woman whimpered in response to the touch of his fangs. So, he relented, only for a moment. Raising his head, little drops of blood from his fangs landed gracefully on her dress.
“Now look what you’ve done,” he said. “You’ve made me soil your dress. One moment longer, I shall be on my way, but only if you’re quiet,” he finished.
After only a minute, he released his grip and wiped his mouth. He wore a look of satisfaction across his face.
“I do hope you had a good time. I’ve quite enjoyed myself,” he said.
Staring into her eyes, he smiled briefly. “I do wish that you could remember me. Too bad things have to be the way that they are. You’ll forget me in only a moment’s time, but you, you I will remember for a lifetime.”
With a tip of his hat, he was around the corner and on his way. The woman was left standing on the dark street in her fanciest dress. At the very moment the man rounded the corner another stranger appeared.
“My dear, what are you doing out here so late and alone?” He asked.
“I can't remember,” she answered.
“Was that a man turning down the alley? Who was that man?” He asked.
“I don't know. A stranger, I suppose.”
- - -
Christina is a wife, mother, blogger and creative writing student. She is currently in the editing trenches with her first novel and hopes to publish it sometime in this century.
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Author:
Christina Jones
