Well Laid Plans

*Written as a challenge to myself after reading a great story by onyxx. (May/03)

*****

I should have realized it would have been a good night to stay home as the police cruisers pass by, their lights flashing, sirens wailing warning cries loud enough to wake the dead. Of course no one ever accused me of being very bright. Nope, not by a long shot and that's the way I like it. That must have been the reason why I just had to go out for that walk to see what all the commotion was about. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those busy bodies who's always up in everyone's shit but when the boys in blue drive right by your front door eighteen times in the span of one hour (and yes I did count the number of times) you tend to get a tad inquisitive. Next thing I know, I find myself rummaging through the stuff on the top shelf of my closet, grabbing the gun that I keep for "emergencies only." I don't know why I wanted to take it along. I guess better safe than sorry. I stuff it snugly into the deep pockets of my denim jacket and walk out the door, making sure to lock it on the way out. That was almost three hours ago and still the cops are buzzing around like flies on shit.

After a little detective work on my part, I dug up the cause of all the chaos. Apparently, it was the discovery of Clayton Anton's dead body. He was the son of one of the big wig executives from downtown as well as being one of the biggest, filthiest whore dogs in the entire city. Daddy was always keeping him safe from the prostitution raids he so frequently found himself caught in the middle of. Seems now that Daddy couldn't keep him safe from everything though, now does it? I should have known it had something to do with those rich, fat fucks when that much police activity was going on. After all, with all those millions, you can buy a lot of pigs.

Anyways the word on the street is that Anton was found bare assed, lying in a pool of his own blood. Did I say pool? The way I heard it described, it sounded more like the Red Sea that Moses had to part. That must have been one gory fucking sight. They say it looked like some wild animal ripped out a huge chunk of flesh from his throat. The cops found him that way after responding to his neighbour's complaints that some woman was screaming all night in his apartment. I don't know why that would be out of the ordinary. He supposedly liked the screamers... even if they did have to fake it. The prude next door only got a glimpse of the woman as she ran out of there like a scared rabbit. She caught enough to know that the fleeing woman was small framed with long black hair. Not a lot to go on but that is probably what the cops are still doing on the streets, looking for this mystery woman.

Now seeing as I never really cared for the guy anyway and I did what I had intended when I left my apartment, namely to find out exactly just what the Hell was going on, I decided to stop at the nudie bar for a couple of drinks before heading home. Being a regular customer of the Slippery Nipple (and its many lovely dancers), Tony the bartender had my black russian sitting on the counter by the time I crossed the darkened room. After exchanging pleasantries and finding out what he knew about the evening's events, he informed me that a nervous little black haired woman had been in and was asking about me. He didn't get to find out what she wanted though because she ran out when she heard the sirens of the circling cop cars. This threw me off a little. I don't mean to brag or anything but this wouldn't be the first time some hussy had asked Tony about me. Actually it happens so often we joke about it, calling him my answering service. This time however I hadn't been doing my usual flirting. There have been times when I have a few too many and forget the skanks I mess around with. Not Tony though. Tony doesn't forget and he knows everyone. He didn't know her. That was when he gave me the napkin with a name and number scrawled on it in bright red lipstick. At least it looked like a name, or maybe a place but it had been smudged into an unreadable smear. The number looked to be a time to meet.

I decided to leave after polishing off my drink, disappointing many of the dancers who were glad to see both me and my wallet walk in the door. I knew that I wanted to have my faulties all in order in case this was some psycho bitch. I headed straight for my apartment but something wasn't right. I kept getting this feeling that I was being followed. Nothing was ever there when I would take a look though I couldn't shake the sensation the fourteen blocks to the apartment. I remember thinking that I was just paranoid because the description of this woman matched the one that had fled the scene of Anton's murder. But there was no way... or was there?

When I finally arrived back home, I found my door left standing wide open making me doubt if I had locked it even though I knew deep down that I had. The sensation came over me again. That same warning mechanism that a deer gets in the moments before a wolf attacks. The knowledge that there is a predator very close by and they are the intended victim. I instinctively pull my gun from my pocket, cocked the hammer and prepared myself to sneak into my very own apartment. I crept inside as quietly as I could, ready for whatever was waiting for me. At least I thought I was ready. I couldn't have been more wrong.

I fell back towards the wall as I try to prevent a stake, yes a sharp, pointed, wooden fucking stake, from being driven into my heart. I use the wait of her momentum and twist our bodies so that her back crashes into the wall behind me. I squeeze tight enough on her wrists to make her drop the impaling weapon to the floor where it clatters noisily. I look deep into the eyes of my raven haired assailant and instead of the wild eyes of a mad woman or the cold calculations of a serial killer, there was only fear... and recognition.

Okay seeing as you've probably got just about everything figured out now anyway, I'll admit it. I am the one who ripped apart that ignorant bastard but, the way I see it, he had it coming after all. Do you realize the painstaking effort and precise planning I have to go through just to get myself a simple fucking snack? Of course, it doesn't help that I like to play with my food either. I've had this hottie picked out for months and I thought things were finally going to come together and that rich fucking Casanova spoils everything just as I was going to move in for the kill. But I'll be damned (oh wait... I already am), if he was going to lay the pipe to my dinner, spoiling the taste. Now I know what you are going to say. Why didn't I drain him instead of wasting all that blood? Well the answer to that is simple. If the body was found in the condition I left it in minus the bloody carnage, the papers would start with the whole "vampire killing" campaign and that just draws way too much unnecessary attention. Besides, who knows where that fuck had been?

I must apologize. I tend to get a tad sidetracked at times. Allow me to return to the story. So there we stood, she was firmly in my clutches and I was looking deeply into her eyes. I've been told I have quite the hypnotic stare. If those people only knew just how right they truly are. In a whispered, seductive voice I ask my beautiful "attacker" to stop struggling against me, to merely enjoy the pleasures that I could offer her. As they always do, she fought me no longer, heeding my simple commands. In fact, she became quite accepting of my advances.

I leaned forward and kissed her soft lips, tasting not only her fear, which I find to be such a turn on, but also desire. Could it be that this is what she wanted all along? I release her wrists and move my hands to the tender flesh of her cheeks, holding her still as my tongue probes into her mouth where it is met with exuberance. I hear her moan within the kiss and I start to tear away at her little, tight black dress. With a step back, I remove my jacket and my shirt as I admire her nearly naked form. She herself undoes my belt and, pulling my pants down to the floor, drops to her knees in front of me. She takes my member in her hands and begins stroking me to rigidity. Hungrily, she takes my full length into her anxious mouth. As she expertly slides around the head of my penis and explores the shaft, I realize that there is more to her than merely being my meal.

She has the potential, the raw seduction and dark mysticism to become like me. I reach down grabbing her firmly by the shoulders and lift her back to her feet. Now it is my turn to satisfy both my hungers. I run my tongue teasingly down her neck, between the luscious mounds of her breast and spend only a brief moment circling around her belly button. I finally findmyself staring into the silken fabric of her thong. I kiss her lips through the soft material, listening to her sigh with pleasure. She pulls at my hair while I relieve her of the restrictive panties. I lap slowly at her labia with long broad strokes loving the sounds of her gasping, needing my touch inside her like the need for air in her lungs. I promise to fulfill her wants, her needs... but not yet. First there is a need that I must tend to. My teeth break into the sensitive skin beetween her thighs. I drink deeply, sucking her life blood into myself. The taste migling with her other juices proving to be quite a delicacy that I was more than willing to taste again time after time.

Ordinarily I would take enough to satisfy my hunger but this time it was different. Urged on by the cries of passion, I climb upon her naked frame and insert myself into her soft folds. As I thrust deeply, my hips crashing down against her in time with her moans, I pierce into her neck with my razor sharp fangs. The mystical euphoria that is received with my bite and the pulsing surges of our heated bodies gives her the last orgasm of her mortal life.

I probably should have, but I just couldn't kill her. So I decided I would do the next best thing. I drained her of her blood and fed her some of my own. She was as ravenous for the taste as she was for my cock. She gulped greedily as we exchanged fluids again, a sensation maybe even more satisfying than the great sex... maybe. When we finally pulled away from each other, she had become fully what I am. I took her then as my new immortal bride as the moonlight cast a revealing light onto her new primal, predatory appearance which now matches more suitably the inner nature she had always possessed. I suppose that is why I had chosen her in the first place. Never as a meal after all but as a mate, a companion for all eternity.

Over these last few hours my life has changed drastically. Now that I have my raven haired lover, I never have need to hunt the streets to feed. That means no more dealing with cops and no more murders. No one will ever discover what truly happen to Anton. The only witnesses have seemed to have disappeared from the scene in one way or another. Perhaps they will never be seen again. I have to laugh to myself as I hear another siren pass by and, here I sit, calmly telling you the whole truth they search for so desparately.

It is such a shame when well laid out plans are compromised. Just ask Clayton Anton. I bet he wished he'd never gotten in my way. But, unfortunately for him and any other who crosses my path, they have to learn this lesson the hard way. What lesson you ask?

I always get what I want!

* Eternal Darkbringer