Night Scented Stock – Part 1

By | August 19, 2006

Her cheek slowly became accustomed to the cold of the marble. Or was it that as the life left her body the tabletop was more akin to her flesh, white, almost flawless, cold, unchanging. Eyes closed she slipped into the deepest sleep she would ever know.

The slightest of breezes stirred the quatrefoil flowers, painted grey by the moonlight. Their sweet perfume lulled her mind as it’s final living thoughts dissolved into the jet blackness of oblivion.

~~~

The path through the woods was not the place a sensible, good, respectable girl should be at night. Not on her own at least. But sensible is boring and respectable is a veneer.

Good? Now there’s a word whose interpretation depends on your point of view.

Clear skies display the stars as someone once said, “Like quicksilver cast across a blue-black velvet firmament by God”. She preferred of a god, or to be more accurate a goddess.

Her purple velvet cloak was tied loosely around her, the warm night not really warranting the heavy garment. The hood, more suited to winter hung down her back. Her feet clomped on the worn stone slabs of the path. Atop the hill the house ahead beckoned with yellow lights from its leaded windows, and the sound of cheery voices and music.

Clara could not hear them. Her iPod was turned up too loud. Sisters of Mercy assailed her ears.

He followed her at a discrete distance. Even without “Vision Thing” pounding her brain she would not have heard his feather-light footfalls.

She removed the earphones and stuffed them into the pocket of her cloak.

“Clara”, a voice whispered in her ear.

She turned, startled, ventricles momentarily frozen. Eyes wide she scanned the empty path behind her. Breaths came fast and shallow. But there was nothing there. She smiled and chastised herself for her jitters.

She turned back toward the house. Into his arms.

The world around them froze, trapped in a crystalline moment of time. A scream left her lips and echoed back from the walls of the diamond prison that enveloped them both. Her brain felt shattered by the impact of the sound of her terror as it traversed the neurons over and over.

His hands held her shoulders and lifted her until her jade eyes were level with his icy blue-white irises. Then as hormones raced and every corpuscle in her arteries became charged with energy, she began to feel light headed. Her head was heavy, too heavy to support, falling backwards, exposing her neck.

He leant forward, canines glinting in the starlight. Almost delicate in their incision they slid through her epidermis, dermis, tunica adventitia finally piercing the tunica intima.

Her blood flowed out into his waiting maw, tongue lapping, drinking her down. Her life too, consumed by his hunger. Then he drank from the deepest well of all, her mortal soul.

She felt the ice-white incision, then the rush as her body surrendered to his voracious appetite. Her heart thundered like a diabolic trip hammer, a metallic ringing in her ears, beating out time. Counting down the seconds as her life slipped away.

Her cheeks flushed briefly with excitement, she pushed her neck into his mouth. The deeper his teeth sliced into her carotid artery, the hotter she felt. The colour left her face as there was no longer blood enough to fill the capillaries. The excitement had moved downward, across her chest, a rolling golden glow of anticipation sliding across her breasts. Her nipples tingled and rubbed against her blouse.

Down it went, towards another ripple of pleasure that had started as a tremor in her feet.

The eventual nexus became clear. Her eyes rolled and her mouth gaped as she anticipated the collision of the two raging breakers in the depths of her sex.

She moaned, so close now. An eternity passed as the wave fronts annihilated each other and in so doing combined into a stellar orgasm, spreading outwards now across her body. Stars were born, grew old and died in that release. But only seconds had passed.

He laid her limp form in the garden on the marble-topped table, turned and became one with the night.

~~~

Her cheek slowly became accustomed to the cold of the marble. Or was it that as the life left her body the tabletop was more akin to her flesh, almost flawless, cold, unchanging. Eyes closed she slipped into the deepest sleep she would ever know.

The slightest of breezes stirred the quatrefoil flowers, painted grey by the moonlight. Their sweet perfume lulled her mind as it’s final living thoughts dissolved into the jet blackness of oblivion.

Her eyes snapped open. Nostrils flared, extracting each scent particle from the breeze. She smiled as the aroma of one man took her attention.

Sliding off the table she drew the bouquet of the night scented stock around her like a second cloak and walked toward the house.

She had two insatiable hungers now, and only one was for blood.