Victory was screaming helpless to the tight vice like hands around her arms. Her long curly brown hair flailed around her face, blinding her eyes already blurred with tears. What was this unknown man going to do to her? She hadn't even seen his face. In utter terror she let out another shriek into the crisp night air.
The man was getting impatient he gripped her jaw slamming it closed sending her teeth down onto her lower lip. She could already taste blood as he closed his fingers over her mouth.
He was dragging her away from the club; no one could hear her cries over the blaring music. He had been pulling her into an alley way and finally his grasp loosened and he threw her against the brick wall. Her body went limp and fell to the ground. She was finally able to look at this man and she let out a gasp as her eyes met his face.
This man was so young. He eyes seemed so innocent, but within them burned a dark green void of malice. His jaw was strong and squared, with pale smirking lips lightly tinted to purple as if he had been out in the cold night for a long time. The winter winds had been picking up and they sent icy whips across her face.
Victory was shivering huddled on the ground looking up at her captor. His lengthy blonde hair blew around him outlining his face emphasizing his deep cheekbones.
He had a disturbing beauty to him, almost mesmerizing; she couldn’t keep her eyes away from his.
Then she felt a strong slap across her face that left her sobbing once more, dazed and unable to keep quiet. “Never look into my eyes” a cold solid voice spoke down to her. She was amazed at its maturity despite its hint of youth. She tried to collect herself enough to speak and was able to let out a weak whimper, “what…what do you want of mm… me?” She was violently shivering and felt the chill of the wind torture her couture. She was only in a little black dress; one of her high heels was missing.
The man chuckled grimly at her disposition. He then ripped her upwards clasping those rock hard frozen hands against her bare arms; slamming her against the wall bringing himself close to her sliding his hands down to her wrists pulling them up to her head at her sides. He brought his lips to hers licking to blood from her bottom lip. She squirmed to escape his grasp but he held on to her harder, she feared he would crush the fragile bones in her wrists.
“ Your mine now, and your going to do as I want you to do.” He whispered harshly into her ear, sending chills of fear and terror down her spine. Warm tears fell upon her cheeks streaming down her chin. Why must this happen to her?
He nuzzled against her skimming his lips down her neck. She began to sob aloud. This infuriated him and his breath picked up sending hot drags down her neck. His body pressed tightly against hers, trapping her against the wall. She looked down the alley to see if anyone would pass by. No one…the street was bare all she could hear was the blaring of the club’s music and her own pounding heart.
She suddenly realized her hands were free and her captor was now sliding his fingers down her chest, examining her every curve. Victory was crying in anger she didn’t want this to happen. Why would a complete stranger take advantage of her like this? And why wasn’t she doing anything to stop him? He was undeniably attractive why would he take a woman by force when he could easily get one other ways?
She felt his other hand pulling up the bottom of her dress. No, here it comes, please god don’t let him hurt me! But she shocked to find his hands gently caressing her inner thighs. What is he doing? He looked into her eyes now. Such innocents; was he smiling? He was like a child. He had a wicked smile on his face, seductive almost, she felt her sobs die down and she became silent, almost calm. It was so surreal. His other hand gently going over the curves of her chest, then ripping down the neck of her dress exposing her, she cried out unexpectedly, her chest exposed and heaving. His lips brought themselves down to them with that terrifying gentleness. Both his hands we at her hips, one holding firmly the other rubbing her inner thigh, slowly moving towards her skimpy little thong.
She let out a small gasp as he brought his lips over one of her nipples, hard from the cold air, his lips were burning with heat despite their frozen appearance. She found herself letting out a low moan despite herself. She was so frightened. What was this man doing to her? Seducing her to his will? She felt him pulling down her thong and slipping a finger inside her. She was crying in confusion, she felt herself wet and hot where his finger had penetrated her. Why was she enjoying this? Didn’t she know what would happen soon enough?
His lips were moving over her breasts, running his warm tongue over them in circle. Her breath was heavy and she felt herself breaking out into a cold sweat. Her nether regions swelling to his caressing touch. He had brought his finger out and was rubbing her dampness over her clit. Her hips began to squirm towards him. His other hand supporting her back and he gently pulled her away from the wall letting her head arch back behind her. She let out another quiet moan feeling him pick up speed and began sucking her nipples, testing them with his teeth, sometimes pulling at them.
She was lost in her own bliss now, her body warm with a mysterious passion for this man. Her hands were at his head, moving her fingers through his hair. A hunger was growing between her legs as she gyrated her hips to his rubbing. He stopped and brought his head up to her ear, whispering once again, “ I knew you’d like this, you’re a little whore aren’t you.” She hadn’t realized this until now. She was enjoying this pleasure by a complete stranger. She half didn’t care at this point but her mind was nagging at her she suddenly had the urge to get away from his warmth his caressing hands. Her body tightened. And a look of fear spread over her face as he heard him moan in approval.
“You weren’t thinking bitch. Now you’re afraid again. I could have easily fucked you; you’re such a slut. I knew it when I saw you.” She felt tears forming in her eyes she was shaking her head frantically to deny it. Rage burst into his eyes again and he brought his wet hand up to her face. “What is this? You say you didn’t enjoy it. My hand is covered in your slutty little juices. Why are you denying it.” At this her brought his hand up to her lips, smearing her dampness upon them. “Taste them.” She had a look of shame on her face and her lips tightened together. “Bitch I told you to taste them!” She whimpered as she obeyed, opening her lips letting her tongue pass through licking her lips and his fingers as he brought them to her. “You like it don’t you.” She cried afraid, she was still hungry for his fingers below and to taste herself brought a wave of pleasure over her.
She nodded meekly. “Good girl, you’re being a good little slut. But I’m sick of playing with you now.” She shivered with fear. He was going to after all, how foolish had she been to think that he wouldn’t. Victory felt his body press her to the wall again. She felt the bulge in his cool leather pants rubbing between her bare legs. She cried out only to have it muffled by his hands clasped over her mouth. He turned her head to the side exposing her neck and he kissed it gently. She was crying under the vice of his hand looking down the alleyway and attempted to cry out for help when she suddenly noticed a figure standing in the shadows, watching her.
The man bit down on her soft neck forcing to scream. She frantically tried to pull away to get the figure to help her. Blood ran down her neck as the man sucked at her wounds. Letting the blood flow over his lips trickling down his throat making him moan slightly. Victory was growing dizzy, her vision began to blur and the figure began to disappear as a cloud of darkness feel over her eyes.
Victory could hear the faint sound of clapping. She was drifting into an eternal darkness, shadows of two figures stood above her limp body. One, her captor; the other she suspected was the figure she had seen in the shadows of the alleyway. She strained to make out the details of the second figure but she was weak, drained. Her body and her mind were surprisingly calm. She wasn’t cold at all even though she lay on the damp and dirty street bleeding to death. The clapping stopped and she heard a man’s voice, barely a whisper to her dying senses.
“Beautiful,” said the figure with a rich French accent, “ Damont, you have a true gift with the art of the kill. Absolutely beautiful…” He was quickly cut off by his companion. “ It was nothing, sheer filth. She was an easy kill. Too easily seduced. I shall have to choose a less drunken woman next time.” A soft chuckle drifted to Victory’s ears. If she still had blood left inside her body, her face would have surely been red with malice. She gathered all her strength to get up.
“Oh it seems you little slut still has some life in her.” The French man said, noticing her body quiver as she tried to rise. Damont whirled around, looking down at his kill. “God Damnit, I thought you were dead you stupid bitch.” He sent a strong kick to her face. Pain seared through her neck and down her spine, her face was numb and she lost her grip. Everything was pitch black now, no sound, no light, no senses, nothing. Her body slumped back down on the ground, lifeless.
“See what I mean. That was nothing. I swear, I thought she was dead though…” He looked back to his companion now. He had enjoyed his performance for his new fledgling, despite his semblance of discontent. Looking into his companion’s eyes he could still see a flicker of undying innocents in spite of all the violence he had exposed to him.
“ Adrian, darling, your purity worries me so; please, tell me what I can do to ride your soul of that terrible ignorance. We are of darkness, of evil; you know this. It would be ever so hypocritical of us to let you go about your immortality as a cherub. We are as demons my dear, there is no good in us.” The dark one’s companion had a scowl on his face. “Demont. It’s not written in scripture that we are evil. We are what we are. It is but our nature to kill. You’ve been a vampire far longer than me and yet you don’t seem to notice this obvious fact. You let religion own your life, why do you do this to yourself?” “I find it wonderful that it inspires you to kill with such authority but darling don’t fret over it. We are not creatures of the damned. We are civilized individuals.”
Demont was holding back his anger now. Physically and mentally. For he had his arm propped against the wall with his head down letting his forehead rest on the cool stone. His other arm at his side with a clenched fist. He was about to speak, when he found himself in his companion’s arms, wrapped in a tender embrace. “Please don’t be angry with me.” Adrian whispered into his ear. His body submitted to his fledglings hold letting out a sigh. “My darling, Adrian, there is much to learn.”
