Vampire
His fangs gleamed in the harsh glare of the headlights. He would have to drain her quickly before more witnesses show up. No point in drawing extra attention to himself. As he leaned in for his last drink, she whimpered. At first he thought she was begging, as they all do. It surprised him to hear the real word. It was not Please, but Peace that slipped from her drawn lips.
“Peace.” she stated in nothing more than a whisper.
She was not begging for mercy, or the end as some do. She was accepting, as if looking forward toward what was to come. He did not know that feeling. He knew no feelings anymore. His soul was as dead to feelings as his blood was to the life he was draining from her. That is what made him pause. He did not want her to end. He wanted to understand her. To keep her.
The bright silver blade was kept always in his pocket. Silver alone can harm him, when other blades leave no mark. He carries it for his own reasons. He slashed across his chest creating a spill of his own tainted blood. He forced her gaping mouth to the wound. She tried to struggle, but he was far too strong.
“Drink.” He commanded. “Drink and become everlasting.”
Drained and confused, she didn’t understand. She tasted cold blood and pulled away out of pure reflex.
NO, her mind protested. Stop! her thoughts begged. But somewhere deep inside, something was born. Thirst. Growing, clawing, pounding, overwhelming Thrist. She could not fight both his strength and this demanding need. She surrendered, and drank. His blood which held no life flowed into her. She became him.
Nauseas and weak, she waivered on the edge of consciousness. Surely she would die now and find her peace. Death would welcome her. But the Thirst would not let her go so easily.
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