tagErotic HorrorMoon Children Ch. 03-04

Moon Children Ch. 03-04

byPurpleThread©

Chapter 3

These little soirees always take place once a month, but the one that lands closest to Samhain is always the best. The rowdiest. By far, the craziest fun a Child can have. I was positively giddy, preparing for that night. I woke early, around four in the afternoon. It was a tremendous honor to be hosting this year's Samhain feast. All the Children on the island would be in attendance... as well as many human guests selected according to a variety of tastes. I wanted to make sure all Children would have their favorite flavor, and a variety from which to choose.

All my windows were heavily shuttered, and I bustled about the kitchen with an unnaturally rosy glow. There was something special about this feast. I could feel it.

I prepared the various dishes, finger foods, a soup... I even prepared my famous Luau-style man-meat- craftily shaped into the form of a large roast pig. Our human guests always joined in the feasting to begin with. Man, if cooked just right, can taste exactly like pork, beef, or chicken to the unsuspecting human. We Children have many culinary tricks.

I was a little live wire of energy that afternoon. Buzzing with anticipation. I purposely fasted throughout my preparations, dared not even taste my fare. This was not difficult... my stomach was fluttery, my heart was lodged in my throat. I don't think I could have even swallowed. It may have been my thirst for the claret, it may have even been due to the fact I was lapsing into feline heat that week. But I now believe, in my subconscious, I was expecting a very particular guest.

I welcomed my brothers and sister at seven of the clock, decked in my black cat costume. It was mostly straps and leather with bright silver rivets, laced together in odd places. The tail swished as if living. My siblings all wore like feline attire, but did nothing to conceal their eyes, teeth, or pallor. This is the way of Samhain. We do not dress up as other things. It is the one night we set aside the cloak and reveal our true nature.

While I may refer to fellow Children as siblings, those attending the feast were not of blood relation, even though Columbine and Chamomile looked like little blonde twins. I had my eye on one brother in particular, tonight...

"The Children arrive, Themal praised." This was my only speech as hostess to the feast. We all touched foreheads in turn, smelling deep. I took the longest inhalation with Laurel, the Child I had mentioned. He touched noses as well, and gave my cheek a playful lick. I blushed helplessly at this, tail flicking.

I ushered them out of the fourier, and bid them snack on the various appetizers. I called for one of the hired help to bring the wine.

"Fressia, I must say, you've outdone yourself this year." Columbine commented on the decked dining hall. I shook my head at him modestly, sipping at my shiraz.

1"It's all just cheap decoration for the mice. They love that sort of thing. I even made candied apples this year."

Chamomile giggled at this, reclining in her chair. "You spoil the little rodents, you know? I'm surprised you don't have a pet."

"She needs no pet." Laurel purred. It sent a shiver through me, his tone. He turned those golden eyes to me and smiled. Laurel was everything I lusted for in a cat... thin, fit, pale, shoulder-length silver hair...

"I'm sure she'd rather be the pet... Isn't that right, Fress?"

"Laurel, you've not known me for very long, yet you speak as though you've seen the color of my soul."

"It's lavender, dearest."

I chuckled to be polite, as did Cham and Col. Skullscap brooded, nibbling on a caviar-slaked toast corner. His long, dark brown hair hid part of his face, and the cat-ear hat cocked on his head might have been comical... if his presence wasn't so foreboding.

"Skully, you look like you've been sentenced to a tanning bed. Have some more wine!" Col piped cheerily, and refilled his goblet.

"I do not want wine. I want fucking mouse. Where in hell are they?" he growled in a heavy Russian accent.

"Don't be impatient, Skully." Cham chided. "You'd think this was his first feast, Them'l! We always have a little chat and a snack to hold us through the festivities. It's how it's always been done."

"Actually," Laurel interjected, "I think this [I]is[/I] Skully's first feast. Don't you come from Romania?"

For a wonder, the dark man smiled, exposing one thick fang. "Yes. Though I hehv treveled far, I hold to my country's... tred-ijons. I... hehv held?" he chuckled. "I will live anoder twelve centuries and I will not be learning right this fucking English."

We all laughed at that.

"So, they don't celebrate much in Romania, I'm assuming..." Col began.

"What do you think?" Skull grinned, this time exposing both canines. "Chil'drin hehv been hunted there for generay-juns. Started wit fucking Vlad the Impaler. He was mouse in cat clothi-gh. I am glad to being finally in paradise." He opened his thick arms wide...

and for a moment I considered what it would be like to be enfolded in those arms... to be mounted by such a large alpha male... feel those thick fangs sink into my shoulder as he sunk into me... I cleared my throat, taking a gulp of the dry vintage.

Later, mayhap... later, after the feasting.

I looked up to see that Cham and Col were already losing themselves in the excitement. He was taking her mouth with his hungrily, her claws were unsheathed into the tablecloth. I cleared my throat more loudly, startling them from their heated fumbling.

"As hostess, I must insist you refrain. For now."

They sat back in their seats, looking sheepish and sly simultaneously.

Laurel grinned toothily, his fangs visibly more slender than Skullscap's.

"I'm not so sure we can, Fress..." he reached over and stroked my thigh. My skin tingled under his touch, and I almost dropped my goblet.

"If those mice take much longer... I might have my way with a pretty Child early..."

I willed myself to remove his hand. "You may have to fight for that right later. Who knows how the evening will progress." I glanced briefly toward Skull, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. As if he hadn't just been undressing me with his eyes.

And then, blessedly, the doorbell resounded in a chiming tune. We Children joined hands, and bowed our heads to the statue of Themal which was the great table's centerpiece. We then took our leave, and welcomed in the prey.

At most human Halloween parties, they offer a bowl of candy. At our Full Moon Feast, we offered the guests a bowl of sweets of a more interesting variety. The young and festive mouse will oft dress colorfully and go to an underground party of sorts... one with loud, monotonous music and a smorgasbord of mind-altering substances with which to experiment. This is the sort of party these particular mice were expecting. The promise of free pills brought them by the bushel.

These pills, however, were very specially formulated. The effect was much like that of what they know as ecstasy, with a few exceptions. All were of equal potency, and there were no side effects of nausea or paranoia. No compulsion to gnaw at one's own mouth. No hangover.

One pill was given per guest, and one is all a mouse ever needs. The Children, of course, refrained.

The ball room was the location of part two of the Samhain feast. This was festooned with all manner of blacklight-reflective décor. The false spider webs glowed blue and green, plastic jack-o-lanterns glared vivid orange with color-changing LEDs in their mouths. The mice all scintillated their own festive rainbow of color under purple tubes and green lasers. The music blasted from multiple unseen speakers. I insisted that the night's mixes all include classic nuances. If one listened closely, they could hear Sinatra and Darin. Even a selection with the immortal Marilyn Monroe. Most of the original allure of these timeless voices was drowned in relentless tempo, electronic whine, and booming bass. I don't believe I'll ever have a taste for techno music while sober. Thus, I held out my goblet to be refilled by a passing tuxedo whilst waiting at the ballroom door.

The other Children had gone to mingle with the flowing bodies of prey, staking out their meals in advance. There is never any shame in playing with your potential kill.

I noticed Skullscap writhing with a tanned, thin human female, dressed as some bizarre witch. I felt a pang of jealousy despite myself. It's never good to envy prey... but with my uncanny night vision, I could see a lovely plump bulge in Skull's bulky "trip" pants. I bit my lip. I knew, of course, that the little mouse would not see daylight, let alone the thick staff he was sporting for her... but it still made me want to tear the little bitch's throat out early. I turned my attention to the milling few coming in from the dining hall with snacks in hand. I was not surprised to see puffy white smoke drifting through the lasers from one or two hand-rolled cigarettes of the herbal variety.

I had drained my goblet yet again, and discovered a new bottle was nowhere in evidence. I sighed with aggravation, pushing my way through the crowd to the rear exit. There was a small passage to the wine cellar thence.

I began to feel... lightheaded... I stumbled in my stiletto heels, and bumped into...

Chapter 4

... him... oh, Goddess, him...

I had always been in control. I felt the exhilaration with the first thousand or so kills, yes... but one becomes accustomed to their habits. And I never lost control. Never, until him...

His proximity brought forth the perfect blending of hunger and lust. My mouth ached with the swelling of impatient salivary glands... his scent made me physically weak. My head swam as if I were walking in a bright sunbeam... my stomach was replaced with a swarm of moths. I found it hard to breathe correctly, or to form speech. My body called voicelessly to his... and his answered. Never has my natural draw so strongly fixed upon a mortal. He could resist no more than I, and it was quite possibly because of my own lack of control that he lost his own... Control that he never knew he possessed over an inner demon he could never have expected.

We began to move together, slowly. My goblet fell forgotten to the marble floor. Arms at our sides, we stepped in perfect synch, necks craned. The distance between us closed, and we exhaled into each others' mouths. The taste of him... of his living breath... it was more than I could bear. I seized him... he seized me. The music bled from one song seamlessly into another.

I could feel his pulse. I could feel it through my frame just as I felt the reverberating bass of the music. I felt it in my most secret, sensitive regions... It brought me nigh orgasm. I kissed his neck softly, feeling his pulse tingle my lips.

It happened slowly. First one fang, then the other... They met soft, sweet resistance for a moment, and then broke through. Pop... pop.

The taste of him, oh... the maddening taste of him. Full-bodied and intoxicating. The best way I can describe it... is that it was like spiced marsala wine blended into an immaculate sauce so perfectly as to cause one to weep at the taste. That description pales drastically in comparison with reality. His blood truly defies description.

I ached from the agonizing ecstasy of it. My hands kneaded at his bicep, his chest. I gulped it greedily at first, and my reaction was too overwhelming. My lungs hitched, and my legs nearly buckled. I clutched weakly at his shirt, and was reduced to feeble sipping, whimpering into his perfect clavicle...

For once, my strength left me as my prey's was found.

That was when he began to change.

I tasted his need. I had drunk deep, and his mind was in mine. This... this was no mouse.

The moon winked through the skylight above us. I felt him tense. He gripped me tightly... I could feel the solid mass betwixt his thighs press against his battered jeans, against my stomach... I felt as his muscles multiplied and shifted... I felt as his skin rippled and pushed forth fur...

I pulled away, perhaps just in the nick of time. He looked at me, helpless and suddenly appalled. This was my first good view of him... a young man with sandy orange hair and hazel eyes. His gaze changed, the pupils stretching to slits, his eyes brightening to a vibrant sunset color... His fingernails were sucked into puffing fingers... and long claws grew from the clefts that remained. Huge, tusk-like fangs sprouted from his elongating mouth/muzzle. Mice around him sent up startled shrieks, and the one oddball "Woah... trippy..."

This one unfortunate soul was the first to die. The beast spun, pounced on him mid-transformation, rending esophagus from trachea. I watched him feed, his dark shirt tearing down the back.

This, of course, caused panic among the mice. The beast raised his feline head, eyes large and alert. His ears, now atop its great head, ended in points of sharp fur and flicked uneasily. In the shifting light, I saw the delicate pattern of black and brown that now tattooed his broad back. His tail flicked free of the tattered remains of his jeans and boxers. He leapt after another fleeing rodent, breaking its neck with one powerful paw.

The DJ had fled, leaving his equipment to play the same loop of mindless percussion indefinitely.

I could not move. I could not flee. I tried to move my legs, and collapsed instead to my knees. The other Children were likewise frozen to the spot. Chamomile sighed in reverence.

"Son of Bast... he is real... The son of Reanddemal... Son of the Moon..."

She had begun to walk to the feeding thing, seemingly in a trance. Columbine held her back.

Laurel and Skullscap were more alert to the situation. The limp body of the little witch bitch Skull had claimed draped one of his broad shoulders. He tossed it aside angrily.

"Bee-kausse ohv gottess-damm't MONGRRRELL, I h-chad to kill prey EARRRLLY. I am NOT PLEAS'T."

Laurel cracked his knuckles grimly. "Can't let him take any more stragglers. Col, Cham, quickly! Seal off the exits! We'll keep as many mice as we can. Skull, keep an eye on 'im." with that, he sprinted after an escaping partygoer.

Col rushed off to do as bid, but Cham was transfixed. She clasped her little hands under her chin and stepped ever closer to the beast. I tried to call out in warning, but my voice was choked, still, by his rich blood.

"Pretty... pretty kitty... be still..." She reached out to him, smiling benevolently. He laid his ears to his skull, looked up at her from his kill growling deeply, and the gore slaking his muzzle bubbled. The great doors slammed shut, startling the beast. Chamomile didn't even feel the absence of her arm, at first. Then her smile trembled, wobbled. Skull yanked her back, tucking her under one beefy bicep.

"Gottess-damm't eeetiot. I h-chope it hurrts." He tossed the bleeding Child, much like he had tossed the corpse, and turned to regard the great cat.

His tail had bristled, his hackles raised. The beast spat out Cham's arm in distaste, stretching massive forelegs to defend his kill. Skull hissed dryly at him. The beast rumbled a loud snarl in response.

Col sprinted back, a mouse about his shoulders. This he dropped abruptly, seeing his beloved clutching a bloody socket where once hinged her dominant arm.

"Stay back, Col!" Laurel shouted, snapping the neck of another victim. "Let Skull deal with it! Take Cham upstairs, then get your ass back down here."

He again did as he was told. I heard Cham sob as they passed me. "I... I just wanted... to... >sob< pet... the pretty >sob< kitty..."

Skull's claws flexed in and out of their sheaths. He crouched, slinking around the left side of the beast. The great cat followed him with his eyes, great wedge-shaped head turning to mark him. While he was distracted, Laurel made the mistake of pouncing from behind. A great paw shot out, batting him from the air and pinning him to cold stone. The beast's gaze never left Skull's. Laurel coughed dark blood, clawing at his confinement.

"P... please..." I croaked. I saw one of his sharp ears swivel toward me. Skull leapt, seizing the cat's head in the circle of his arms, holding the jaws shut. The beast lifted his paw from Laurel and tried to shake off the offending Skullscap. Laurel managed to roll onto his stomach and begin a slow crawl from his assailant.

Great paws batted mercilessly at Skull, but he had dug in deep with his claws, and would not be thrown. He timed his movements, and managed to swing himself onto the neck of the beast. Here, he seized his nape. The beast roared hot rage... but he was immobilized.

Laurel was crawling past me. "Get... out..." he wheezed, blood spilling between his teeth. I looked at him in numb shock. This was the same cat I had planned to bed earlier that night. I felt a pang of guilt, having lusted after Skull in lieu.

I looked back... and Skullscap was gone. I did not see his body. I did not hear him. He was just gone. The beast shook himself, looking around as if to challenge anyone else who might try to take his kill. Then he stooped low to sniff at the bloody mess that was his dinner. I began to weep.

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