Before I Wake
Okay, so it's not that scary. I felt like writing it, I like vampires. Feedback adored as always, there isn't a piece I don't treasure forever. Ask to archive, no doing things to it.
Simple rule: If it drinks blood, it's probably mine. If it doesn't, it belongs to Marvel. I'm not making any money from either of them, you'd be suing for a percentage of the mild spook I just gave myself writing this in the dark at 4 AM.
Beautiful. But then, they are always beautiful. This kind, anyway. Not the ancient kind, who can't even remember what they used to look like before immortality overtook them. But this one, this one is different. Young, almost innocent. Couldn't have been more than twenty when his life was changed for him. Life? Is it a life? Or should I call him one of the undead? He died, after all. Still no, he isn't that kind. This one lives, could live forever. The feeling of life flows out from him, filling the surrounding space with vitality. I can feel it. He has more life than a hundred mortals.
Soft blonde hair falling on pale skin, so beautiful when they sleep. Do I look like that when I sleep? I doubt it. He seems so unsullied, peaceful. Only the faintest movement betrays his breathing, unaware of my presence. I could stay and watch for hours, but I won't. He will wake up soon, my day is drawing to a close while his is about to start. But I can't leave. Won't leave. Can't leave. Want to leave, run away and let him go on in peace. Doesn't a being so endearing deserve life as much as I do? Stop it. You came in here with a purpose, don't lose it. He must expect it, surely. I am going to watch his life fade out of his eyes. Respectfully, of course. I wonder what colour his eyes are. Blue, I'm sure. They would have to be blue.
Stop standing here like a fool. You're seventy-one years old, you're too old to be beguiled like this, you've been doing it too long. They say men are the only ones who fall instantly in love with appearances, what garbage. I even love the little freckles across his nose. They are dangerous freckles. They make him look like a person, the same as the little scar near his eyebrow and the tiny lines that texture his face. He's not a person though, is he? Not like me. Not even like the normal mortals, humans, call them what you will. Cattle. This one is so different, for all he looks like them.
Does he even know? He can't be very old. Does he realise how he calls to me just by being? That I can hear his supernatural heartbeat for miles? It draws me, immortal heart, immortal heat. Immortal blood. I can nearly taste it.
But he's so cute. Look at that, the way his legs are all tangled in the sheets, his arm thrown up to rest on the pillow. I can even smell the faintest hints of human-like smells. Soap, fabric, a little sweat. Maybe just a nibble. He'll never even know. Just an itsy bitsy bit of blood, he'll hardly miss it. Back in a day or two, like it was never gone. I could always come back, relieve him of it again. No, someone would catch me. Now or never.
Maybe he'd survive? Do not think such things, Bridget. Better you take what you need now, then leave. If he survives, sane, he has won back his life from me. He may do with it what he wishes. But now, tonight, you are mine. Dear little external.
It will only hurt for a moment, I promise. See? That feels so much better now, doesn't it. Just you and me, blood connecting. Your delicious young blood, so filled with power it nearly burns me. You didn't know, did you? How the thunder of your heart will draw vampires to you? You really should not sleep with the window open, Samuel. All kinds of creatures could come in.
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