Nocturnus Eternal Ch. 01

They get out of the car and Steve locks the doors. The illumination from the street lamps is reflecting off the deep puddles of rainwater as the gutters start to overflow from the torrential downpour. Renee sees her distorted reflection in the water briefly and then looks away. She cannot not bear to see the monster within herself.

Water spatters on the tight vinyl fabric of the umbrella as she and Steve hurry up the walkway to his front door. Renee stretches her hand out to Michaels and takes hold gently as he rambles on about his day. She knows that she has no right to be listening to him, no right to be sharing in his life as though she were a welcome part of it. What she is doing is no better than what the vampiric virus inside is doing to her, and there is a part of her heart that knows that.

Renee wants to listen to that part of her, and she fights hard to resist. Perhaps this is why the thirst gagged and bound her conscience, shoving it away with reckless hate and need. The thirst needs no morals to feed and made sure that Renee was sufficiently dulled to it's bidding, at least until the deed was done and it was satisfied.

'I'm weak,' she smiles at Steve as they reach the door to his home. Her mouth is dry and feels like someone has stuffed cotton in her cheeks. She thinks, 'I'm sorry Steve.'

Renee opens her coat as they stand under the eave of the front porch to reveal her simple blue dress. It's in keeping with the fashion of the time, at least as much as Renee can afford. But the plain dress does accent her figure and hint at the promise of her large bosom beneath. Her shoes are soaked and the calf high socks are now almost transparent.

Still, she feels no cold.

Renee stretches out with her mind, and holds her grip on him. Her prey looks to her with hungry eyes and smiles lovingly as he pulls his keys out of his jacket. Steve fumbles with the keys for a moment, his hands trembling until finally he finds the right key and unlocks the door. He steps inside and turns when Renee stands where she is on the front porch.

"You coming in?" he asks, believing now that she is in fact his beloved girlfriend of six years so whole-heartedly that she can feel a pang of rejection from him when she won't come in.

She fights it.

"I-," she says and then stops, hating herself more and more with each passing second. She then says weakly, "I just missed you, is all."

"Please come in," he says immediately and holds his hand out to her.

Renee smiles warmly and takes his hand as she walks in. Steve closes the door and they are in the dark, the only light in the hall a hot orange glow from the neon sign across the street flooding in the series of windows that framed the left side of the door. The rain is driving hard now in a sudden wind as it spatters against the windowpanes. She doesn't look at his furnishings or décor. The less she knows about him, the easier this would be. She stops him in the small hallway that leads to the living room.

Renee places her hands on both sides of his face, her fingers spread out as her palms graze the prickly stubble on his cheeks. His blood is racing through his body, fueled by an unnatural attraction to her that she has forced on him. His breath is hot against her lips as she draws his face near to her own, her hands steady against his skin but unable to stop the impulses surging through her body.

Renee kisses him gently on the lips, her tongue snaking out from between her lips and grazing his. She deliberately takes her time as he rests his hands on her hips.

'It's wrong,' she thinks weakly as her body suddenly heats up, a blush rising from deep inside her shattered heart.

The feeling is so alien, so inherently mysterious that she almost draws back from him. She is not ready to feel the emotions that this man is stirring up in her. She remembers how this moment was supposed to be a secret, a special joining for her and one other. She has dreamed and imagined since she was old enough to know what the act is supposed to entail that it was sacred and unique, and she is quite sure murder and deceit are not a part of the magic. This was not how she wanted to share herself, to reveal her virginity.

It wasn't right.

The predators had come in the night and done this to her. She hates them almost as much as she hates herself right now.

'But who is the predator now?' She thinks. Renee fights off that thought as she stubbornly allows herself to experience the feelings of the first time. Again, she is convicted by her morality and she recoils from the sting of guilt over her actions. But the thirst knows no master, not for her or anyone else like her.

She takes off his hat and removes his jacket. She can feel his sculpted body under the dress shirt he wears, and the stony bulge in his slacks against her thigh. Steve responds quickly as he begins undoing her dress, finally able to act out on the images that have been storming his mind for the last half hour. His need for her is ravenous as they kiss, tearing each other's clothes in a primal lust. Renee feels herself enjoying him and the sexual sensations sparking throughout her body.

She feels like she is falling from the sky.

She feels the thirst beginning to overtake her.

'Not yet,' she thinks, 'not yet...'

Renee lets her dress fall away and down her arms. She looks at Steve and reaches behind her back, her fingers seeking out the clasps of her lacy white bra. She deftly unclasps the hooks and slides the cups away. Her heart is hammering in her chest relentlessly as she reveals herself to this stranger.

'You don't have to do this,' she reasons as a shiver electrifies her flesh, 'you don't have to do all this. Just feed and go. Don't violate him like this. Please.'

Renee drops the garment to the floor and watches as Steve looks her over, drinking in the curves of her heavy breasts. She is surprised to hear a genuine moan escape from her throat as he places his large, rough hands on her swells and fondles her. She closes her eyes and concentrates on breathing as she tries to reason, to put some sort of logic to why she is doing this beyond simple thirst.

But all she can do is tentatively explore the feelings this man has awakened in her. Her inner sex was alive, her womanhood slowly waking up and heating her from within.

'You could leave right now,' she thought, 'you could leave him right now and go find a murderer or rapist to kill...'

'But I need to know,' she replied to that small voice that had somehow escaped the bondage of the thirst, 'I want him so badly...'

'This isn't love,' the voice told her, 'This is a lie.'

Renee looks into his eyes as he massages her breasts. He gently kneads them with a tenderness she never knew existed until now. He seems so sincere as he touches her, and that sincerity both intensifies her need for him and her guilt over her actions. Renee can hardly breathe as the battle for Steve's life rages on inside her heart. It is a losing battle to be sure, and she knows this even before she gives in and releases her body to the thirst.

Steve kneels down and begins kissing her left breast delicately, working his tongue over and around her sensitive nub in small circles. Renee tilts her head back, completely lost in his touch and a powerless slave against her nature. Before her mind clouds over with the blind physical attraction she is feeling, she feels the need to cry, to lash out and mourn this man. She knows that when this was done, he will be dead. She will be truly guilty of murder and that would be the simple truth.

'Murderer.'

She pulls him up and begins to undo his slacks. When the belt won't give, she sighs and instinctually flexes the powerful muscles in the fingers of her right hand. Moments later, five one-inch long claws spring out of small openings in each of her fingertips. With one deft move, she slices the leather of the belt. The claws retract immediately as the fabric and leather rip apart under her otherworldly strength. Amazingly, he doesn't even get scratched in the process and never sees her nails retract. He wears no underwear, and the sight of his manhood makes her flush red.

"Hey, those were good pants," he protests as Renee tears his shirt off, exposing his body. She feels the lust inside her becoming as prominent as the craving for his blood. Renee kicks her white shoes off and lets her dress fall to the floor as they embrace as lovers. Their skin is a conductor, a perfect channel in which their sexual energy can surge through their bodies. They back up through the living room, never breaking the kiss and somehow managing to make it to his bedroom. She throws him to the bed and feels dizzy from all the wild sensations that are overwhelming her.

Time seems to slow down, her legs straddling him. He is hard and powerful against her sex and she closes her eyes and feels the promise of the coupling. Her heavy breathing echoes through her mind like a voice in an amphitheater as the distinctive feeling of having been penetrated tickles her. There is a moment of definitive pain that is both excruciating and yet somehow beautiful. Thus follows the hot presence of Steve within her, not just physically but emotionally now, the both of them truly connected and sealed as they express their feelings.

'It's a lie,' an echo fades away just beyond her hearing.

She can feel the thick presence of his penis inside her, filling her up, stretching her and creating such a pressure that she cries out.

'Murderer.'

Renee can feel Steve's heart racing as they find their rhythm and make love, her hands braced against his chest. It is beating so hard, so furiously as they joined that he enhanced hearing can hear it pounding like a pagan drum. She senses his feelings for her, and now realizes that these were feelings he too had long been denied. He is a lonely man, forever apart from other people and yet desperately wanting to be with someone. He wants to be loved as badly Renee wants to be, maybe even more so.

She wants to believe that what he is feeling for her is real, that she has somehow earned it and it is as pure as he believes it is. But she knows better. She knows that no matter what happens, his love for her has been planned and artificially cultured. It is an elaborate hoax to hide the fact that she wanted to take something from him that did not belong to her.

But oh, how she wants to believe.

'Oh, how I am a murderer...'

She feels the stab of self-loathing as she throws her head back and shakes under the pressure boiling up inside her. She feels a sudden bloom of intense heat from deep within her inner sex, an undeniable flowering of a virginal seed. Her lips tremble as she soars to the plateau of her climax. A wave of sadness threatens to crest the physical fire of her fruition and rises up against her. She runs her hands over her body, slick with a fine mist of sweat and struggles to find some way to keep from shaking. She slides her hands up to her neck, feeling the twin puncture wounds just below her right ear

Through the chaos of the storm in her soul and as she reached her point of no return, Steve speaks three simple words that cut through her heart like a hot blade, changing her life forever.

He whispers, "I love you."

Renee pauses for a moment and comes to terms with that fact that she has just destroyed him. She has violated him not only physically and mentally but now emotionally as well. The power she feels inside him is love, and it is a gift he has been saving for someone else. It is a simple, priceless treasure that she has exploited and plundered. She has taken his most precious possession from him and now, as she stands poised to take his life along with it, she feels pure unbridled hate for what she has become.

A tear rolls down her cheek.

I love you...

She throws her head back as the orgasm sears through her body.

I love you...

Renee screams in a torturous rapture.

I love you, he echoes in her mind as her body is ravaged under the heat of her culmination.

Her fangs unsheathe, growing longer and she can hold back no more.

"I'm so sorry," she weeps.

"For what?" he breathes, smiling at her.

"For this," she whispers.

A long moment of silence passes between them and then buries her fangs into Steve's neck as deep as they can go. She ravenously feeds on him, swept away in a bloodlust that seems to go on forever. His blood explodes from the wounds and pumps out in a long stream from under the seal of her lips to his skin. She drinks deep, his connection to her ebbing and losing power as he struggles against her. He convulses and tries to hit her as she steals his life. She can sense his mind spinning as he screams in pain and ecstasy. Ecstasy turns to fear as the toxin secreted from her fangs paralyzes him.

Steve screams.

Renee is an animal now, her humanity shredded and reduced to nothing more than a memory as the thirst commands her and takes control of her every action. After a few futile jerks and spasms he slowly begins to be still. Gurgling, shallow breaths bubble from his mouth as blood trickles from the corner of his mouth, leaving a snail-trail to his ear. His beautiful black eyes roll back wetly into his head as she drains him, his skin turning a pale white as his life slowly leaves his body.

I love you, he had said to her.

'MURDERER!"

Of all the things Renee had imagined saying in response to that very rare phrase since she had been old enough to know what love is, "I'm so sorry" is the very last reply she wanted to give. Nevertheless, it is the honest truth. She is so very sorry for what she has done.

'I am sorry,' she thinks as cold tears run down her face and mix with his blood, 'I'm weak and sorry.'

She continues for an hour, sucking and feeding, appeasing the darkness within as she clasps his dying body to her own. She will not let him become what she is; she can at least give him that. She will kill him and spare him a lifetime of loneliness and hate. She will make certain that the virus that has damned her to eternal Hell on Earth cannot establish itself in this man's body. No matter what, he will not suffer her evil anymore than he already has.

A strangled gurgling sound drifts from his open throat as his eyes fix on the ceiling. Renee feels the essence of his soul pass out of him like a warm breeze and into the next life, a place she is cursed to never see.

She envies him.

One last rattling breath hails his departure from this world, and he is no more.

Renee stands up, naked and streaked with blood. Her eyes glow blue, reflecting in the window of his bedroom. She looks down at his body and the horrible wound she has made, so bright and raw against the white skin of his corpse. Tears flow heavily down her face as she comes back to her senses. Renee clasps a hand to her face, covering her mouth as she tries to control the sobs that heave her chest. Her eyes burn with hot tears and her stomach feels sick despite the content fullness of her thirst.

She knows the police will be here soon. She suspects that his neighbors probably heard him scream when she bit him. Even if they didn't, hanging around the scene of a murder is never a good idea. She walks around the bed and mourns this beautiful stranger. She places her hand gently on his chest over the area under which his heart was now silent, still and cold. She leans in and puts her lips to his in a kiss that she knows she has no right giving him. The kiss lasts only for a moment and then she closes his eyes with a delicate sweep of her fingers. She steps back and can't bear to look at him anymore. She covers him with one of his blue satin sheets and leaves him there.

She has committed murder.

She showers in his bathroom, her skin caressed and soothed by the stream of hot water. The blood washes from her body as she cleans the physical evidence of her sin away. The steady jet of hot water pounds her skin and envelopes her in a plume of steam, hiding her as she comes to terms with her impulsive, murderous act. The crimson-tainted water circles around the drain, disappearing into the blackness and out of sight but not from memory. It swirls the open hole in a hideous vortex that cries out her guilt.

"I love you," whispers Steve's phantom voice.

Renee steps out of the shower and dries herself off with one of Steve's towels. She bothers with no adjustments to her hair or cosmetic fixings on her face. She doesn't need them, and if she had she wouldn't have used them. She gathers her clothes from the hallway and dresses quietly, the hardwood floor icy against her feet. Her shoes are in a pile near the foot of the plush recliner in the living room. As she puts them on, she feels a frigid emptiness in the apartment now, a black void where there had once been life.

Renee slips her black overcoat on and leaves the apartment, taking great care not to look back at the man she has just murdered.

Once back out on the street she finds the rain has stopped, a lonely fog is misting and coalescing around the city. It is viscous and thick, seeming to have a sinister life all it's own as it catches the light from the orange sodium street lamps. An eerie silence has fallen over the city, and she feels like everyone is pausing to consider what she has just down. It is a ridiculous notion, but she feels like a million eyes are watching her. She flips her lapels up, shivers and walks into the mist.

The sounds of wailing sirens overpower her footfalls and fill the night as she briskly walks back towards downtown. At the corner of the street, several brightly lit squad cars and an ambulance swerve and race towards her. She looks on, unconcerned and still fearful of the police as they speed by and past her.

Someone had heard Steve scream apparently. The police were hoping to save a life and nab a bad guy. They would bring forensic experts and investigators and they would scour the apartment for clues but would find nothing. They would never find fingerprints or DNA samples, as she now has none to give.

She is a vampire, a creature outside of humanity and therefore no longer subject to what makes a woman human.

She is a woman with no identity, no unique attributes or special distinctions.

Inside her, she senses the darkness abated and slumbering, giving her peace for the moment. She sighs, if nothing else thankful for the short reprieve from her bane that might last another two days before it awakened again. The idea of having to feed again terrified her. What would her parents have thought? What would they think of their sweet, Christian girl now?

"A good Christian girl?" she whispers to the shadows enclosing around her.

'No,' Renee thinks as she stands in the rain, 'Not even close.'

Renee suddenly looks up as-

-three men walk by her, their eyes glancing at her in a way that probably was very slick to them, but to Renee it is obvious and bold. The hunger stirs within her and she knows it is time. Burying the memories of her first kill down deep, she steps out from the phone booth and her evil reflection and walks into the night. She knows that they will follow her. She can already sense them making the decision.

After all, she is a murderer, and she can sense her own.

2

Quentin Handle led his boys quietly and confidently. He knew that the two men following behind him were as trustworthy as people in their profession could be. He trusts them enough to share credit with them, but not enough to let his guard down. Nobody is on the level enough to let your guard down around. That was just plain stupid. Many people considered Quentin to be many things but stupid was not one of them. Trusting people that were so much like him was a mistake that he had seen too many thieves make.

The three men emerged from the shadows of the tightly spaced buildings that crowded downtown Sacramento. It was always safer in the shadows, and a good thief could tell you that if your target sees you even a moment before the hit, then you've failed. It wasn't that the payday would be any less, but rather the finesse of the job would be lost. It was an issue of doing a job right versus doing it half assed. The job was a matter of pride for Quentin, and as such he took it very seriously.