The Night Captive: A Vampire Story

Victor stood outside her window, his silhouette barely visible in the muted starlight. He spied her sleeping on her bed, the duvet rising and falling with each gentle breath, a living, sensuous mound of temptation and sustenance. In an instant he appeared inside the room. His every sense was heightened and her soft breathing filled his ears as though amplified one-hundred times, the slightest sough of the sheets a raging river of sound and chaos.

Slowly and silently he moved to her side and stood there for hours admiring her form. She stirred a little but did not wake. He could taste her in his mouth. Their divine and sacred union was inevitable. He would have her. He must. He would own her. It was his right. The line of her neck was smooth and elegant, appearing from beneath her hair and disappearing under the silken cover. Even in the dark her skin glowed in the little available starlight, her delicious smoothness beckoning him to her.

As he slowly leaned toward his prize, his lip curled to reveal the two long teeth, glistening with saliva and lust. Just as he got to within one inch of his feast, the beautiful woman startled, but before she could scream his hand was on her mouth, calming her, possessing her. She did not attempt to scream or free herself. She could not. She was captured. A tiny bird held in the grip of a man. Her breath deepened. His mouth moved closer, finally reaching her flesh and biting into her skin, the two fangs plunging luxuriously into her vein and sucking her lifeblood from her. The taste was earthy and sweet.

Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned as he pulled the duvet down, exposing her naked breasts. His hand touched her softness and explored her feminine perfection.

He took her blood faster now, and her moans grew to cries and puffs of soulful air. She tensed and at once was overtaken by a flood of love and ecstasy, washing away her past, her childhood, her dreams, her very life up until this exact moment. The past was meaningless.

Her life began here, now, on a bed under a duvet in the pale light, with a man stealing her essence. As she continued to helplessly pulse and writhe, she knew she belonged to him.

Victor, sensing she was near death, withdrew his teeth from his delicious prey. He would let her live. He had made her his and she belonged to him. They would walk forever in shadows together. There was no hurry. Eternity was a long time.

(Photo by solofotone, flickr)