Nikki's dream

They danced with fevered passion, oblivious to the danger around them. I could smell their blood from where I stood twenty-three stories above the club. They were young, naïve and careless. And that worked to my benefit. It would make the chase all the more fun. It was their last moment that sent desire coursing through my veins. For in that moment they would understand what was going to take place. That there were other beings on this earth, that were bigger, stronger and smarter than them. When they cover in fear against the corner, that’s when their blood tastes even more sinful. And before they have the time to take it all in I would take them in my arms, like a lover does, and drain them of their life source.

For when one dies, another is born.

I smile in anticipation of the kill. I have targeted my victim, the strong, silent type with more wisdom then people three times his age. Yes. He will make a great partner and lover. But I have to be aware of my surroundings for there are many others that also lurk around, and they will kill their own kinds just to get a taste of the others.

Over the past few months our tiny group of fifteen has expanded to a large forty seven. No doubt, the carelessness and hunger of the younger ones. We were to wait, choose our victims carefully, as I have done mine. The strong ones are good. The silent, innocent ones even better. After the transformation they became much stronger than the strong-willed, bold types.

Brian is his name. I’ve heard the other girls giggle and whisper about him. He walks by unfazed by their girlish laughter and their excessively tanned skin. Some of them look disappointed; others are more turned on by his ignorance. I enter the club; one of the few silhouettes bathed in black. I have become quiet accustomed to the stares of people, men and women alike, and can smell their desire. They often are stunned and drawn to our marblesque forms, and our sharp green eyes; that if caught causes hypnosis and even more deadly, paralysis. Presuming you use that power on them. I should know, for I was once drawn to it too, giving into my fate.

I choose to ignore their stares and instead focus on him.

He turns slowly as though he can sense my desire towards him..and then to my amazement he smiles. From the looks of girls I presume he rarely does. He walks to me with such grace and…predatorness..that I’ve never seen any human own. When he stands inches from my face he towers over me and suddenly, I feel a vulnerability that I haven’t felt since I was human. He smiles, gently-which eases me a bit, then leans down and whispers with the smoothest voice, “meet me outside, away from these slobs”. And with that he leaves, his powerful shoulders striding past the crowd.

I blink my eyes, still stunned as to what happened. I shake of the numbness and descend back to the hunter I was. I walk out of the club and make sure to side step the vomit, no doubt from the excessive drinking of some of these kids. He stands against the brick wall, arms folded, a smirk on his face as he turns his head to acknowledge me. I feel myself getting turned on, and am very confused as to where these feelings have come from. I am the hunter therefore, I should be in charge. Not him.

He is quiet aware as to what I am, for when I come to stand face to face with him, he discards his trench coat on the floor and reveals his smooth, muscular chest to me. “Don’t make it so obvious”, he states with such smoothness. “If we lay on the ground and your lips are on my chest, they may think otherwise.” I look around as though doubting myself for the first time, then turn back to him. The next few hours are a blur.

All I remember is hours and hours of unbridled passion. Our bodies rhythmically moving against each other, animalistic grunts echoing of the empty room, our sweat sleeked bodies fitting perfectly together. There are at least a hundred bite marks and scratches on our bodies. Our relationship is forbidden and it is this very thought that makes me want to fuck him more.

He drains more blood from me than I from him. And the next few days are a mystery to me. Suddenly, I don't just want to drink people's blood, but tear their flesh from their bodies. The moon becomes my teacher and leader and I follow it as the change comes over me. I grow fangs three times the size I bore before, and I find myself easily being able to leap from building to building. The sharp talons on my feet and hands make it all the more easier to climb up walls, sneak up on anyone, and tear my victims apart.

And suddenly he's there. Brian. Chasing me down with a rifle. I race frantically trying to avoid the silver bullets. The game has suddenly changed.

The hunter has become the hunted.