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The Last Dance

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I could almost taste her; feel the warm, sticky trickle of her life washing over my lips; that metallic essence filling my mouth. Could she sense my hunger for her? Somewhere, deep inside – in that dark, damp place where she hides away her deepest, most terrifying nightmares during the day – I thought she could.

I didn’t have any special powers that enabled me to take over the will of my prey. I did not benefit from having eternal life either. I was not a zombie, a vampire, or any other such mythical creature. I was a man; a man who liked the taste of women.

I loved to feel them struggle beneath me; to feel them twitch as I tear into them. I loved to hear their cries when I ravished them, and their stillness, as the light eventually dimed in their eyes. This one had a way about her that excited me. She was vibrant; life seemed to pour from her.

My excitement grew when I caught her looking me up and down. She is judging me, I thought. If I’m lucky, I will be invited home with her. She saw that I caught her and lowered her eyes; embarrassed. She flashed a coy smile at me; snatched up a piece of her lovely dirty blonde hair and bit down on the end. I ordered her another drink. She downed it in one swift movement, and then led me to the dance floor.

The dance floor was packed. The heat from the overhead lights and the other bodies in motion raised the temperature. Sweat began to pour out of her as she moved, rendering her top useless. I could see how much she wanted me; feel the evidence rubbing against me when we embraced. I was sure that she felt my wanting as well.

After the third or fourth song, she led me from the floor. I thought that we were heading back to the bar, but she led me to the exit. A taxi was waiting for us when we walked out. We climbed in and attacked each other. I found my hands roaming everywhere over the outside of her clothes; sometimes under. The cab driver never said a word.

I don’t remember her paying for the cab fare, but I assumed that she must have. I followed her up to her door and waited while she fished around in her purse for the keys. When she pulled them out, I took them from her and unlocked the door.

She didn’t waste any time. She pushed me inside and slammed the door behind us. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed me against a wall. Her kisses were passionate, wet, satisfying. She paused long enough to take off my tie and remove my jacket, then started kissing me again as she worked on unbuttoning my shirt; with her teeth. My blood pressure rose every time she took one of my shirt buttons between her teeth and bit it off.

After she pulled off the last of my shirt buttons, she peeled my shirt off of me and began to kiss, nibble, and lick my neck. That was the part of the night where I would usually lure my prey into their bedroom, so I could have my way with them, but it just felt so good. I didn’t want it to end. Her kisses began at my ear, trailed down to my collar bone; then around to the front of my throat. I couldn’t resist her anymore. I reached in to wrap her up in my arms; pull her up off of her feet. It was time to hit the sack.

Before I could lift her, she bit into me. I screamed out and tried to push her away from me, but I couldn’t fight her off. I could hear her drinking from me. My thoughts became scattered; hard to grasp. I remember thinking that of all the girls; in all the clubs; I found the one that was just like me.

It didn’t take long for my strength to give out. Within seconds, my arms fell to my sides and my knees buckled. When I collapsed, she went down with me. My crisp clear world slowly disappeared.  In the darkness that followed, the sucking sound continued.

She wasn’t there when I woke up. I felt people around me before I heard them. Someone was pressing on my chest very hard. Somebody else was wrapping something around my neck. I opened my eyes and they all reeled back. I managed to stand up; noticing that the four people in front of me took a few steps backward when I did.

“What the…” one of the paramedics began.

“What’s wrong with his eyes?” the lady beside him screamed. “Oh my god…What’s wrong with his eyes?”

I turned, meaning to find the front door and found a mirror instead. The bandage that was wrapped around my neck was soaked through. My face looked white and smooth. The lady was right about my eyes; two glowing red orbs were set in the place where my human eyes used to be.

I turned toward the four people and tried to speak, but nothing came out except a hodge-podge of grunting sounds. I reached out toward them for help; the lady let out another ear piercing scream, so I ran.

I have never seen my night-dancer again. I’ve searched in more places than I could count, but she chooses to stay away. The first few years after the change, I told myself that she recognized the beast within me; she saw a fellow traveler. These were the reasons that she turned me. Now, I know that this is a punishment. I still hunt and kill and feed, but I no longer get any enjoyment from it. My human senses and desires are gone forever, replaced by more primal needs.

This is my atonement; my hell.

 

 

The End

Bio:

I am a fifteen year veteran of the United States Armed Forces, and I currently live in Stockton California with my wife Kimbell, and six children. Currently, I work full time for the California National Guard.

 

 

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