{ Gypsy-Red }
{ Deacon - SkyBlue }
In the darkest corners of the earth swirled rumours of a vampire that had the ability to make other vampires fear. She was as sweet as sugar until she turned on you. Everywhere the vampire went, death soon followed. Towns were destroyed, families were ripped apart, legacies were ended, and streets often ran with blood. An echoing haunting laughter could usually be heard amongst the screams of innocent victims, and then nothing but the sounds of flies over the artfully placed corpses that were kept as quiet as possible as to not alert panic. That was when the murder spree would be amped up to cause world wide panic.
At the center of the swirl was a vampire with a face so beautiful, many victims couldn’t help but fall to her. But she carried a soul so twisted and black that no amount of pleading or light reached her. She wiped out anything and anyone who made her feel. She had affairs with powerful demon lords, kings, and everybody in between. She used men to get ontop, taking their power, status and money by force. She gathered a huge fortune, guarded fiercely by those under her spell, houses, cars, and she sat ontop of the ladder of the social circle. She was literal royalty in the vampire world, made so by their King many years ago. She was feared, respected, and treated like the Queen she was. She did and went where she wanted, she said what she wanted, she took what she wanted. She dared those who opposed her to step up, and ended their opinions by ripping their heads off their shoulders with her teeth. She’d commanded courts, led soldiers into war, and had brought down empires from the inside out. She was a brilliant planner, and excelled in torment. Her favourite game was to make her victim beg for death, usually by playing mind games so dark, she would break their psyche. And just when they thought the torture was over, she’d give them the rope to hang themselves with, and laugh as they did it.
Comfortably, that same vampire sat back in the drivers seat of the beautiful 1967 Pontiac GTO, painted in a dark purple with its windows open to the cool night air. She had long been able to walk in the daylight, but she had always appreciated these little nighttime drives. Music blasted from the car’s speakers, and uncaring who saw, the 18 year old that was frozen in time rocked out to it. She drove through downtown, watching the nightlife, and scouring for her next victims. She’d taken a phase of young men once again, and what better place to find a disgusting, yet somehow tasty man than a club. She pulled up to one, and stepped out, throwing her keys to the valet, and while he was distracted, used that incredible speed to move to his face. She smiled that charming smile, tilting his face to look into her eyes. “Scratch the car, and I’ll make sure it’s paid for in your parents blood.” She heard his heartbeat increase, but he nodded, and she smiled. “Good boy.” She purred, running her fingers over his chin before she walked away, right through the crowds. They seemed to sense the aura, because not even security tried to stop her. She waltzed right in, grinning as she did it. She loved being her. She really did.
Walking over to the bar, she leaned against the counter, dressed in a tight, short skirt, a tank top that showed her mid-drift, fishnet leggings and a pair of heels so sharp, she could and had killed men with them. Eyes turned to her as she walked through, and she felt both lust and jealousy run through the room. Her long hair, currently blond, pink and black, flowed to her pert, perfect ass, lightly curled and soft as silk. The bartender was immediately infatuated, as many mortal men were, and she found she didn’t even have to compel him before he brought her a bottle of their finest champagne. Free of charge, as she liked it best. She laughed, taking the bottle and it’s class, looking around for somewhere to enjoy herself. Spotting a perfect little table, though occupied, she simply walked up to them, and slid in to get ready to play with her new victims.
{ Deacon - SkyBlue }
In the darkest corners of the earth swirled rumours of a vampire that had the ability to make other vampires fear. She was as sweet as sugar until she turned on you. Everywhere the vampire went, death soon followed. Towns were destroyed, families were ripped apart, legacies were ended, and streets often ran with blood. An echoing haunting laughter could usually be heard amongst the screams of innocent victims, and then nothing but the sounds of flies over the artfully placed corpses that were kept as quiet as possible as to not alert panic. That was when the murder spree would be amped up to cause world wide panic.
At the center of the swirl was a vampire with a face so beautiful, many victims couldn’t help but fall to her. But she carried a soul so twisted and black that no amount of pleading or light reached her. She wiped out anything and anyone who made her feel. She had affairs with powerful demon lords, kings, and everybody in between. She used men to get ontop, taking their power, status and money by force. She gathered a huge fortune, guarded fiercely by those under her spell, houses, cars, and she sat ontop of the ladder of the social circle. She was literal royalty in the vampire world, made so by their King many years ago. She was feared, respected, and treated like the Queen she was. She did and went where she wanted, she said what she wanted, she took what she wanted. She dared those who opposed her to step up, and ended their opinions by ripping their heads off their shoulders with her teeth. She’d commanded courts, led soldiers into war, and had brought down empires from the inside out. She was a brilliant planner, and excelled in torment. Her favourite game was to make her victim beg for death, usually by playing mind games so dark, she would break their psyche. And just when they thought the torture was over, she’d give them the rope to hang themselves with, and laugh as they did it.
Comfortably, that same vampire sat back in the drivers seat of the beautiful 1967 Pontiac GTO, painted in a dark purple with its windows open to the cool night air. She had long been able to walk in the daylight, but she had always appreciated these little nighttime drives. Music blasted from the car’s speakers, and uncaring who saw, the 18 year old that was frozen in time rocked out to it. She drove through downtown, watching the nightlife, and scouring for her next victims. She’d taken a phase of young men once again, and what better place to find a disgusting, yet somehow tasty man than a club. She pulled up to one, and stepped out, throwing her keys to the valet, and while he was distracted, used that incredible speed to move to his face. She smiled that charming smile, tilting his face to look into her eyes. “Scratch the car, and I’ll make sure it’s paid for in your parents blood.” She heard his heartbeat increase, but he nodded, and she smiled. “Good boy.” She purred, running her fingers over his chin before she walked away, right through the crowds. They seemed to sense the aura, because not even security tried to stop her. She waltzed right in, grinning as she did it. She loved being her. She really did.
Walking over to the bar, she leaned against the counter, dressed in a tight, short skirt, a tank top that showed her mid-drift, fishnet leggings and a pair of heels so sharp, she could and had killed men with them. Eyes turned to her as she walked through, and she felt both lust and jealousy run through the room. Her long hair, currently blond, pink and black, flowed to her pert, perfect ass, lightly curled and soft as silk. The bartender was immediately infatuated, as many mortal men were, and she found she didn’t even have to compel him before he brought her a bottle of their finest champagne. Free of charge, as she liked it best. She laughed, taking the bottle and it’s class, looking around for somewhere to enjoy herself. Spotting a perfect little table, though occupied, she simply walked up to them, and slid in to get ready to play with her new victims.
Nightlife. Alcohol. Anticipation. Lust. They were all powerful emotions and Deacon was at the heart of each and every one of them. He always got to the clubs early when bothered to leave the quiet little bubble of his office. Usually by Friday nights he was so sexed out that heading out to the club just was not in him. But his week had been relatively slow, more talk than action. His clients whined more than fucked regardless of the influences he placed on them during their sessions. Deacon was a sex therapist. A very well-known and sought-after sex therapist. He also taught a Human Sexuality class at the local University and lectured all over the country. So, it was very easy to assume sex was Deacon’s life. But here’s the catch…he very rarely partook in the pleasures of sex himself.
Deacon is an Angel, fallen from Heaven after he became too good at influencing and frustrating the humans and his power was that they would never be able to push him away. He could connect to each and every being on not just a physical level, but chemical as well. Knowing just how to manipulate the minds of humans, creating a burgeoning sin we now know as lust. Now, to be clear, Deacon did not cause these people to do these acts, did not influence how the overwhelming lust would manifest with each individual only that when they acted on it, it would power him. He thrilled with the pangs and pitfalls of young love, courtships, one-night stands, and even relationships. But his favorites were the forbidden acts that were always kept secret: hidden romances, adultery, incest, and other unspeakable acts. They fueled him the most, simply because they held more raw emotion behind them than anything else. The adventure and fear of being caught along with the delights of the act itself. So, what better place to be then in the very den of debauchery?
Wanting to blend in with masses tonight he adorned himself in a gray t-shirt that showed off the tattoo that actually marked him as an Angel, snug but comfortable jeans and his unlaced boots. He also passed on a shave, letting the growth of the day give him that scruffy, rugged look that was coming back into fashion. To human eyes he was attractive and his extensive knowledge about the human body, pleasure points, and the psychological intuition of how to manipulate someone into falling into a sexual situation made him seem alluring to women in particular. The sensitive male type. Only Deason was not that.
He lounged precariously at the end of one of the side bars, his ass on and bar stood but his back against the wall, with his feet resting on the barstool next to him so no one could sit down and talk to him. In his hand was a run of the mill bottle of beer that was sweating condensation on the leg of his pants as his forearm rested on his knee. He couldn't drink the stuff, alcohol was poison to Angels, but he didn't want to stand out as the creeper at the bar with no drink. In twenty minutes, he would toss it and get another one just so the bartender wouldn't get suspicious. For the most part Deacon's eyes were closed as he just drank in all the sexual tension building in the vast night club. But, with no warning, he was hit with a surge of lustful power that made the color in his tattoo react and blade like the skin had been burned rather than tattooed.
His eyes opened to behold what had caused the humans to collectively become so aroused it had nearly caused him to sprout his wings. There, in front of him, leaning on the bar and collecting a bottle of champagne was the cause of the surge. What a lust little vixen this one was. Everything about her screamed sex and mystery. With her here, he would be having a very good night indeed. The very sight of her was going to keep the sexual tension at an all-time high. His eyes rested on her, wanting to see how she handled herself in and with the crowd. If she happened to look his way, he would not behave like a scared little boy when the beauty queen looked their way. He would offer her one of his dazzling smiles and lift his bottle in a toast to her. Then he would look away and not look back.
Deacon is an Angel, fallen from Heaven after he became too good at influencing and frustrating the humans and his power was that they would never be able to push him away. He could connect to each and every being on not just a physical level, but chemical as well. Knowing just how to manipulate the minds of humans, creating a burgeoning sin we now know as lust. Now, to be clear, Deacon did not cause these people to do these acts, did not influence how the overwhelming lust would manifest with each individual only that when they acted on it, it would power him. He thrilled with the pangs and pitfalls of young love, courtships, one-night stands, and even relationships. But his favorites were the forbidden acts that were always kept secret: hidden romances, adultery, incest, and other unspeakable acts. They fueled him the most, simply because they held more raw emotion behind them than anything else. The adventure and fear of being caught along with the delights of the act itself. So, what better place to be then in the very den of debauchery?
Wanting to blend in with masses tonight he adorned himself in a gray t-shirt that showed off the tattoo that actually marked him as an Angel, snug but comfortable jeans and his unlaced boots. He also passed on a shave, letting the growth of the day give him that scruffy, rugged look that was coming back into fashion. To human eyes he was attractive and his extensive knowledge about the human body, pleasure points, and the psychological intuition of how to manipulate someone into falling into a sexual situation made him seem alluring to women in particular. The sensitive male type. Only Deason was not that.
He lounged precariously at the end of one of the side bars, his ass on and bar stood but his back against the wall, with his feet resting on the barstool next to him so no one could sit down and talk to him. In his hand was a run of the mill bottle of beer that was sweating condensation on the leg of his pants as his forearm rested on his knee. He couldn't drink the stuff, alcohol was poison to Angels, but he didn't want to stand out as the creeper at the bar with no drink. In twenty minutes, he would toss it and get another one just so the bartender wouldn't get suspicious. For the most part Deacon's eyes were closed as he just drank in all the sexual tension building in the vast night club. But, with no warning, he was hit with a surge of lustful power that made the color in his tattoo react and blade like the skin had been burned rather than tattooed.
His eyes opened to behold what had caused the humans to collectively become so aroused it had nearly caused him to sprout his wings. There, in front of him, leaning on the bar and collecting a bottle of champagne was the cause of the surge. What a lust little vixen this one was. Everything about her screamed sex and mystery. With her here, he would be having a very good night indeed. The very sight of her was going to keep the sexual tension at an all-time high. His eyes rested on her, wanting to see how she handled herself in and with the crowd. If she happened to look his way, he would not behave like a scared little boy when the beauty queen looked their way. He would offer her one of his dazzling smiles and lift his bottle in a toast to her. Then he would look away and not look back.
Though the people at the table were initially offended with Gypsy’s boldness, she soon charmed and manipulated her way into their circle. And just as soon, was convincing one of them to slit just below the artery and letting her blood flow into the champagne glass she held before licking the woman’s wrist to heal it so she didn’t bleed on Gypsy’s outfit. None of the others said a damn thing as the vampire then filled the glass with champagne, and leaned back to sip it as she listened to the mortals speak their nonsense gossip. Growing bored, and bold, she ordered the women beside her to make out, to get her in the mood, after it was clear they didn’t really like each other. It became very clear neither wanted to do it, but both secretly enjoyed it, which pleased the vampire.
She slid over to the other side while the women enjoyed each other, into the lap of the young man who was fascinated by the display. Her body slid over his lap, listening to his heart beat increase as his blood flowed distinctly downwards. She giggled as she felt him against her, and tilted her head to kiss his neck and lips. When he let out the smallest moan, her fangs sunk into him. Horny men tasted the sweetest to her, and she didn’t hesitate to feed until he was almost impaired, but not quite. She pulled back, and licked it clean. “Hush now, you’ll be alright.” She whispered, adding a specific order for when he felt a little better in a few minutes. She was, after all, in the mood for chaos.
She wiped her mouth, and took her bottle of champagne, doing much the same to the next table and the next, until that lust and anger amped up to a near suffocating level. The thing to note was she did not kill anyone. Yet. When she was satisfied, with a evil smirk on that beautiful face, she wandered her way back through the crowd, where the shoving matches were beginning. She loved it. Like silk, she moved through the crowd, weaving through until she was back at the bar. Her bottle was empty by then, and turning that charm on the bartender once more, he brought her another bottle. She couldn’t get drunk, at least easily, but she could enjoy its tastes. She slid herself back on a stool, watching the couples basically take each other on the floor, or start rumbling fights in the middle of the bar which would soon have blood flying. Grinning, she leaned herself back, crossing her legs, one arm leaned back on the bar as she watched.
Soon, she felt a strange presence, and curiosity got the better of her to look once. She saw a man sitting there, watching the chaos. He was handsome enough, but he gave off the strangest aura. Like he was....different. She knew right away he wasn’t human, she’d been around long enough to smell the difference, plus he seemingly wasn’t affected by her. Wondering what he would make of it, and curious what he was, if he looked, she would tilt her glass to him with a cocky little smirk before she looked back to watch what she had done, and watch to initiate step two: the blood bath.
She slid over to the other side while the women enjoyed each other, into the lap of the young man who was fascinated by the display. Her body slid over his lap, listening to his heart beat increase as his blood flowed distinctly downwards. She giggled as she felt him against her, and tilted her head to kiss his neck and lips. When he let out the smallest moan, her fangs sunk into him. Horny men tasted the sweetest to her, and she didn’t hesitate to feed until he was almost impaired, but not quite. She pulled back, and licked it clean. “Hush now, you’ll be alright.” She whispered, adding a specific order for when he felt a little better in a few minutes. She was, after all, in the mood for chaos.
She wiped her mouth, and took her bottle of champagne, doing much the same to the next table and the next, until that lust and anger amped up to a near suffocating level. The thing to note was she did not kill anyone. Yet. When she was satisfied, with a evil smirk on that beautiful face, she wandered her way back through the crowd, where the shoving matches were beginning. She loved it. Like silk, she moved through the crowd, weaving through until she was back at the bar. Her bottle was empty by then, and turning that charm on the bartender once more, he brought her another bottle. She couldn’t get drunk, at least easily, but she could enjoy its tastes. She slid herself back on a stool, watching the couples basically take each other on the floor, or start rumbling fights in the middle of the bar which would soon have blood flying. Grinning, she leaned herself back, crossing her legs, one arm leaned back on the bar as she watched.
Soon, she felt a strange presence, and curiosity got the better of her to look once. She saw a man sitting there, watching the chaos. He was handsome enough, but he gave off the strangest aura. Like he was....different. She knew right away he wasn’t human, she’d been around long enough to smell the difference, plus he seemingly wasn’t affected by her. Wondering what he would make of it, and curious what he was, if he looked, she would tilt her glass to him with a cocky little smirk before she looked back to watch what she had done, and watch to initiate step two: the blood bath.
Deacon's posture hadn't changed, he was still completely relaxed with his feet on the bar stool next to him. He absorbed wave after wave of the sexual energy she was arousing person after person as she made her rounds.
It had been one of those interludes that he had leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he just enjoyed. Because he wasn't watching, he missed that she had approached and was standing at the bar. When he looked again into the crowd he couldn't find her. His eyes panned the room until they fell upon her standing right in front of him.
As his eyes rested on her and she tilted her glass at him, a friendly enough gesture that he was fairly sure she was just acknowledging him and nothing more. When she looked away Deacon waved the bartender over. He requested a Three Olive's Cherry Vodka sour (Three olives is a high-end vodka - there are no olives in the drink). The drink arrived and Deacon, using a pocketknife, made a small incision on his lower abdomen and bled about a mouthful into the drink. He then set the drink on the counter and successfully slid it along the bar so it would bump her resting elbow. If she looked at him again, he would offer a polite smile and a nod of acknowledgement.
It had been one of those interludes that he had leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he just enjoyed. Because he wasn't watching, he missed that she had approached and was standing at the bar. When he looked again into the crowd he couldn't find her. His eyes panned the room until they fell upon her standing right in front of him.
As his eyes rested on her and she tilted her glass at him, a friendly enough gesture that he was fairly sure she was just acknowledging him and nothing more. When she looked away Deacon waved the bartender over. He requested a Three Olive's Cherry Vodka sour (Three olives is a high-end vodka - there are no olives in the drink). The drink arrived and Deacon, using a pocketknife, made a small incision on his lower abdomen and bled about a mouthful into the drink. He then set the drink on the counter and successfully slid it along the bar so it would bump her resting elbow. If she looked at him again, he would offer a polite smile and a nod of acknowledgement.
As Gypsy sat there watching the crowd, couples either fucked or fought. She laughed triumphantly as glass started breaking, the masses turning on each other as kisses turned possessive, and rage boiled to throwing punches. She pulled out a cigarette case from her small pocket, so small one might wonder how she fit it at all, and lit it as if she didn’t have a care in the world. And that was because she didn’t.
Soon enough, she felt something at her elbow, and looking down, discovered a drink. Intrigued, she picked it up and smelt it. The smell was intense and delicious. Cherry and a blood so rich and so fine, she had only ever smelt it once. But to taste it. Her eyes flashed red for a moment before she looked up at the gentlemen beside her. She scanned him once more, a seductive but gorgeous smirk on her face as she acknowledged the drink with a nod of her head before she drank it in one go. The taste was like all the finest things in life amplified. It was immediately addicting, and the power it gave her made her head swirl. It was her sire’s power that allowed her to do that, to absorb the power within the blood without having to kill the victim. His ’special present’ to her. For her, it only lasted a short time, and she planned to take full advantage.
When she looked up again, her face had changed into her vampire form, which was somehow still beautiful, even if terrifying. “Thank you for that.” She giggled to him before she called the bartender over. “You will not notice anything I do. You will continue to serve me as you have. Do this, and you may just live. Is that clear?” He swallowed hard, but nodded, and she smiled. She then disappeared in a finger snap. Screams joined the fighting, moans and glass breaking as the vampire, faster than she had ever been before, bounced from person to person, ripping out their throats with absolutely terrifying strength. Within minutes, the walls had been painted with blood, and more than half the room was dead. Those that remained were oblivious to the piling bodies, because she had ordered them so. They would literally fuck themselves to death for her pleasure. Gypsy danced as she brutally and thoughtlessly wiped out the patrons of the club, and played with them as if they were puppets.
She was aware that the being who’d given her the blood was watching, but she cared not. She danced with the bodies as she artfully arranged them to be doing as they were, playing pool, standing at the bar, playing darts, and all the other activities. She spent a minute trying to get one to hold a beer, and out of rage, slapped the head off the shoulders so hard it stuck into the mirror behind the other bar. She took her time setting them back up, and checked on the exhaustion levels of the ones still going at it on the tables, giving them each a little of her blood to keep them going before she moved back to the bar. When she got there, she sighed in content, grabbing and downing the drink the bartender had immediately set down. Looking back at the man, she grinned again. “Really. Thank you for that. Just what I needed.”
Soon enough, she felt something at her elbow, and looking down, discovered a drink. Intrigued, she picked it up and smelt it. The smell was intense and delicious. Cherry and a blood so rich and so fine, she had only ever smelt it once. But to taste it. Her eyes flashed red for a moment before she looked up at the gentlemen beside her. She scanned him once more, a seductive but gorgeous smirk on her face as she acknowledged the drink with a nod of her head before she drank it in one go. The taste was like all the finest things in life amplified. It was immediately addicting, and the power it gave her made her head swirl. It was her sire’s power that allowed her to do that, to absorb the power within the blood without having to kill the victim. His ’special present’ to her. For her, it only lasted a short time, and she planned to take full advantage.
When she looked up again, her face had changed into her vampire form, which was somehow still beautiful, even if terrifying. “Thank you for that.” She giggled to him before she called the bartender over. “You will not notice anything I do. You will continue to serve me as you have. Do this, and you may just live. Is that clear?” He swallowed hard, but nodded, and she smiled. She then disappeared in a finger snap. Screams joined the fighting, moans and glass breaking as the vampire, faster than she had ever been before, bounced from person to person, ripping out their throats with absolutely terrifying strength. Within minutes, the walls had been painted with blood, and more than half the room was dead. Those that remained were oblivious to the piling bodies, because she had ordered them so. They would literally fuck themselves to death for her pleasure. Gypsy danced as she brutally and thoughtlessly wiped out the patrons of the club, and played with them as if they were puppets.
She was aware that the being who’d given her the blood was watching, but she cared not. She danced with the bodies as she artfully arranged them to be doing as they were, playing pool, standing at the bar, playing darts, and all the other activities. She spent a minute trying to get one to hold a beer, and out of rage, slapped the head off the shoulders so hard it stuck into the mirror behind the other bar. She took her time setting them back up, and checked on the exhaustion levels of the ones still going at it on the tables, giving them each a little of her blood to keep them going before she moved back to the bar. When she got there, she sighed in content, grabbing and downing the drink the bartender had immediately set down. Looking back at the man, she grinned again. “Really. Thank you for that. Just what I needed.”
Still poised and relaxed, the unbridled sex in the room was more than enough to keep him in his seat. The wound he had inflicted upon himself to spike her drink was still in the process of healing, which was another reason he was still present - the lustful energy would speed his healing.
His deep green eyes watched her as she downed the drink in one large gulp. The look on her face read pleasure as his blood was rich as the finest wine and laced with sinful ecstasy. For any vampire it would surely instill an instant addiction. How often does one meet an Angel so willing to share their very essence?
Screams began to echo around the room, but Deacon remained relaxed, undisturbed by the macabre massacre going on before him. But as the body count rose, the energy of the room ebbed. He checked his abdomen and there was just a thin pink line, healed enough, he thought as he dropped his feet from the bar stool and stood up.
His sleeve tattoo glowed a silvery purple as all the power he had absorbed ran in his veins. He flexed his arm to try to disburse the energy so the glow would ease and go back to its normal rich blue color. As he worked on himself the mysterious vampire returned to the bar for another drink. In response to her thanks, he offered her his own seductive smile.
As he made his way out of the club he paused at her shoulder and said in the most melodious voice one could have. "That better than a blindfolded, nude lap dance." He then pushed his fists into his pockets and sauntered out of the club.
His deep green eyes watched her as she downed the drink in one large gulp. The look on her face read pleasure as his blood was rich as the finest wine and laced with sinful ecstasy. For any vampire it would surely instill an instant addiction. How often does one meet an Angel so willing to share their very essence?
Screams began to echo around the room, but Deacon remained relaxed, undisturbed by the macabre massacre going on before him. But as the body count rose, the energy of the room ebbed. He checked his abdomen and there was just a thin pink line, healed enough, he thought as he dropped his feet from the bar stool and stood up.
His sleeve tattoo glowed a silvery purple as all the power he had absorbed ran in his veins. He flexed his arm to try to disburse the energy so the glow would ease and go back to its normal rich blue color. As he worked on himself the mysterious vampire returned to the bar for another drink. In response to her thanks, he offered her his own seductive smile.
As he made his way out of the club he paused at her shoulder and said in the most melodious voice one could have. "That better than a blindfolded, nude lap dance." He then pushed his fists into his pockets and sauntered out of the club.
The being beside her held incredible power, and that was obvious by the literal glowing tattoos. That was interesting, and for a second, her brow furrowed. What the hell was he? She had seen many, many things in her long years, but glowing tattoos was a surprising new one. It was a flash, barely there, but she’d caught it, likely only because her time with his power hadn’t run out and she could see and feel so much, her mind almost couldn’t keep up.
Her head tilted to him when he came to her shoulder, and the words made her smile. She normally wouldn’t, but something had her looking over her shoulder to watch him as he moved out of the door. Maybe it was his appreciation, maybe his blood, maybe her curiosity. But something. However, upon realizing that she was feeling, which was something she hated, her face turned once again as rage, deeper than normal, took over. She slaughtered everybody left in the room much more brutally, and much more slowly, until she was as cold as stone again.
She didn’t step out of the club until early morning, just before sunrise, but she looked as if she hadn’t just murdered the entire club. She cleaned herself up in the bathroom, washing away all the blood before leaving, quietly closing the door behind her. She walked back to the valet, who she gave that same charming smile to as she took her keys, and ordered to forget he had ever seen her in his life, skipping her way back to the car. She pulled away from the curb, and decided where to go next.
First she went home, which was a beautiful mansion just outside of town. The house sat in the middle of the land, surrounded by beautiful gardens of various kinds, tended to by the people enslaved by her spells, trees that stood tall and strong, perfectly placed furniture around a huge firepit, a pool and just about every other thing you could imagine. She pulled up to the expansive garage, painted a dark purple with posters and pictures of varying ages. Parking her car among all the others, ranging in muscle cars, classic cars, vintage motorcycles, and anything in between. She had a bit of a collectors touch, but there was no shame in her game. Not even all of it was here, she thought as she slid her hand over the GTO she’d just parked.
As happy as she could be, she moved through the garage into the gorgeous foyer, pulling off her boots as she did so. She tossed them to the gentlemen who did nothing but service her walls of shoes, keeping them prim and proper, shiny and free of blood. Freely stripping on her way up the huge spiral staircase, she dropped her clothes where she pleased, knowing they’d be gone when she stepped out again. She hopped herself into a hot shower, and let her fingers drift between her thighs as she imagined the power and ecstasy that being had given her. It was power and sex and need and more. Her body exploded when the flash of his eyes came to her mind, making her gasp it out to the shower walls.
When she was finished, she did take a moment to wonder, but shrugged it off. He wasn’t the first being to pop into the vampire’s mind in a moment, but the way he hadn’t reacted to bloody murder did make her curious. She wrapped herself in a large bathrobe, fluffy and soft, before heading into her study. Booting up the computers there, she sat there as she debated what to type. What to search. Eventually, she just found up searching out what he tastes like, and anything she could about that flashing tattoo.
Her head tilted to him when he came to her shoulder, and the words made her smile. She normally wouldn’t, but something had her looking over her shoulder to watch him as he moved out of the door. Maybe it was his appreciation, maybe his blood, maybe her curiosity. But something. However, upon realizing that she was feeling, which was something she hated, her face turned once again as rage, deeper than normal, took over. She slaughtered everybody left in the room much more brutally, and much more slowly, until she was as cold as stone again.
She didn’t step out of the club until early morning, just before sunrise, but she looked as if she hadn’t just murdered the entire club. She cleaned herself up in the bathroom, washing away all the blood before leaving, quietly closing the door behind her. She walked back to the valet, who she gave that same charming smile to as she took her keys, and ordered to forget he had ever seen her in his life, skipping her way back to the car. She pulled away from the curb, and decided where to go next.
First she went home, which was a beautiful mansion just outside of town. The house sat in the middle of the land, surrounded by beautiful gardens of various kinds, tended to by the people enslaved by her spells, trees that stood tall and strong, perfectly placed furniture around a huge firepit, a pool and just about every other thing you could imagine. She pulled up to the expansive garage, painted a dark purple with posters and pictures of varying ages. Parking her car among all the others, ranging in muscle cars, classic cars, vintage motorcycles, and anything in between. She had a bit of a collectors touch, but there was no shame in her game. Not even all of it was here, she thought as she slid her hand over the GTO she’d just parked.
As happy as she could be, she moved through the garage into the gorgeous foyer, pulling off her boots as she did so. She tossed them to the gentlemen who did nothing but service her walls of shoes, keeping them prim and proper, shiny and free of blood. Freely stripping on her way up the huge spiral staircase, she dropped her clothes where she pleased, knowing they’d be gone when she stepped out again. She hopped herself into a hot shower, and let her fingers drift between her thighs as she imagined the power and ecstasy that being had given her. It was power and sex and need and more. Her body exploded when the flash of his eyes came to her mind, making her gasp it out to the shower walls.
When she was finished, she did take a moment to wonder, but shrugged it off. He wasn’t the first being to pop into the vampire’s mind in a moment, but the way he hadn’t reacted to bloody murder did make her curious. She wrapped herself in a large bathrobe, fluffy and soft, before heading into her study. Booting up the computers there, she sat there as she debated what to type. What to search. Eventually, she just found up searching out what he tastes like, and anything she could about that flashing tattoo.
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