15 December 2012
- An extract from 'Storm', a story I'm currently publishing on Wattpad! -
I sauntered into the bar like I owned the joint. It was standard procedure really... Act like you haven't just spent an hour and a quarter waiting in the queue like every other non-VIP person to get into the newest, hottest club in town, then, when you are granted entry, swan around like you are a VIP.
My hair trailed down my back in the loose curls my sister would have liked to call 'romantic'. Pity she was dead, so she couldn't actually comment on their perfection. My heels clicked on the laminated floor, a seductive sound I could pick up under the music only with my enhanced senses... Being a vampire had its positives.
It had a lot of positives, actually. I was free. There were no rules. I craved only one food, and I could take it whenever I wanted. I looked good - damned good.
I swung my long legs over a bar stool and seated myself, primly crossing my thighs - not that there was anything remotely prim about the dress I was wearing: short, lacy, red. Fire-engine red. Paired with my highest black heels and black choker necklace, I looked practically edible... But I wasn't on the menu tonight, I was making the menu tonight.
My eyes scanned the crowded dance-floor, watching as humans grinding shamelessly against each other. The bartender in front of me leaned over, flashing her grey eyes at me seductively. Okay then.
"What can I get you tonight?" She said, pushing her ample chest up and licking her cherry-red lips slightly. It was supposed to look seductive, but in her low-cut waitress uniform it just looked trashy.
"Not you." 'A smirk curled my lips as an embarrassed flush ran its way across her cheekbones, and down her neck. Actually, her neck did look inviting... A slender, pale curve. Hmmm. No, I'd wait - the anticipation would be worth it. "Get me a Pimms."
I wasn't a heavy drinker - alcohol had little effect on vampires, something I missed about being a human, really. Pimms might be classed as a 'sissy' drink, but it was my sissy drink. I liked it. I drunk it. Only I had to like it.
It tasted even better with a shot of A Negative in it, but I was making myself wait for that.
My eyes strayed back to the writhing bodies just beyond the long bar I was sat at. I took a languorous sip of my drink and swivelled in my chair to face the dancers full-on. Nothing had caught my gaze completely, just yet, but I knew a moment would come.
"Hey," a nasal, rusty sort of voice broke through my lazy perusal of the crowd. I turned, already feeling a mild distaste - this voice was certainly not attractive. He had dark brown hair, hanging limply over his brow, and a sly grin plastered across a relatively acne-clear face. His limbs were scrawny, and he was leaning in towards me from where he sat next to me. I edged slightly away.
"Hey," I replied, letting my disgust and disinterest seep acidly into my voice.
He didn't seem to get the message.
"Like, have I seen you before, I swear we've met, like," I groaned inwardly. Seriously? Seriously? Good Lord.
"No." I downed the rest of my drink in two solid gulps, ignoring his startled expression in the corner of my eye as I chugged back the fruity alcohol. Then, like liquid, I slid from my seat and melted into the thick crowd.
All around me pulses and pumping blood filled my ears; it was a vampire junkie's heaven. I let my body sway rhythmically, knowing I looked good in my short, curve-hugging dress. My dark hair brushed my arms as I swung them over my head and let the music move me.
Human arms and human legs brushed by me, endlessly grinding. It was a club; what do you expect? Decency? Non-existent.
I tried to remember the name of the club. Something along the lines of 'Red'. Yeah, 'Red'. That was it. Nice, pretentious name, and oh-so fitting for a vampire such as myself.
I let the scents of blood waft about my nostrils, revelling in palpable hormones and smell of distant not-so-secret alley-sex. Ah, I loved clubs.
A pair of corded arms grasped my hips and moved me back into a chiselled chest - I could feel the muscles through my dress and his shirt. I twisted easily in his grasp, evading his wandering fingers and looked up into dark-lashed hazel eyes, glazing over his ruffled auburn hair and stubble. He would do.
We danced a little more, teasing movements played to the pumping dubstep music the club regulated. It was he who snapped first, gripping my hand and pulling me firmly towards him as I moved to dance away from him again. He bent and murmured in my ear and I nodded my consent.
"Let's get out of here?"
He tugged me firmly through the crowd and out of the same door I had queued over an hour just to gain entry for - that wait had been worth it though; I tasted the O Negative on his breath as he'd bent down to talk against my ear. He had lots of blood, and it would soon all be mine.
We walked quickly through the night, quietly, him stumbling slightly over the mismatched paving stones, me evading the trip-traps easily with my amazing vampiric eyesight. He stopped walking after a time, in a darkened alley a few blocks from the club.
"I can't wait any longer," he muttered, voice as strained as his jeans. Very. I looked down, very.
A smirk graced my ruby lips and I pushed him against a wall, grinning wildly as he groaned. Poor bastard thought he was going to get some. He knew nothing. He was stupid. All humans were stupid.
His hands latched around my rear end pulling me against him, and his fingers dipped under my skirt, grazing my thighs.
That's as far as it would go, though.
I kissed him firmly, diverting his attention, my brain ticking knowingly as he groaned against my mouth, moving his hands to tangle into my hair and ruin - ruin - my perfect hair. I growled. He hesitated, the feral noise evidently breaking through some of the alcohol fuzzing his brain up, but quickly disregarded it in favour of attacking my mouth once more.
I let my lips leave his and trailed soft kisses down his jaw and to his collarbone, enjoying the helpless whimper escaping his lips with every touch. A vampire's touch, indeed.
My fangs elongated even further, filling my mouth with intense pain, and I knew how to remedy it: with no more foreplay or teasing kisses, I sunk my teeth into his neck savagely, attacking him. His blood rushed into my mouth and it was my turn to moan, pushing my face even further into the crook of his neck. He had turned still, paralysed, no doubt, by the toxins in my saliva.
Finished, he dropped to the floor, pulse-less. Drained. I, content, slipped my heels off and, with them swinging in my hand, wiped my mouth. Swiping my tongue across my teeth and collecting any remaining droplets of blood, I left my victim's body where it was and left the alley, not turning once.
Just another night.
Storm. • Opuss № I