Vampiric Lust

Chapter One

“Quiet,” The man whispered as he clasped his hand over my mouth and pulled me around a corner, away from the danger that had arrived. I didn’t really need to be saved. I was very capable of protecting myself, but I played along. He seemed a decent, young man.
Stopped for a moment around the corner, my savior gently brushed his dark hair out of his face with his hand. I glimpsed, by the illumination of a street light, that his eyes were an intense shade of blue, with dark rims, and his face, pale, but attractive. He was dressed in a slashed red t-shirt with a design on the front, skintight black jeans, and black knee high boots. Tattoos enveloped his arms almost entirely and I could make out a tattoo of bats on the left side of his chest through the slit in his shirt.
My rescuer led me down a series of deserted alleys and slender passages between houses and small shops. He then led me up several flights of fire escape stairways, through a door, and into a dimly lit room.
I cautiously looked around the room. There was not much too it. A woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, sat at a table in the center of the space writing furiously on a sheet of paper. There were two doors leading to a bedroom and to what I assumed was a small bathroom. We were in the kitchen now. The dwelling was not fancy, holding only the few necessities needed for living. The kitchen contained a table and chairs, a few cupboards, and a sink. In the bedroom I could perceive two petite beds, a nightstand, and one larger dresser. The bathroom only included a toilet, a sink, and a bathtub.
“Vinnie!” cried the woman who was sitting at the table. “You disappear for days without returning, can’t you at least leave a hint at your vanishings? And who is this girl you have brought?”
I found myself afraid, but a slight smile played across my lips. Vinnie was a darling name.
“I apologize, my sweet Ardere,” replied Vinnie. “I will certainly make sure you are aware of my next departure before it occurs. And this,” he said, gesturing toward her, “is…Well…I guess I really don’t know who she is. She was caught up in some danger and I haven’t had time to ask her name.” Vinnie turned to me with a warm smile and asked, “What is your name honey?”
Smiling sweetly in return, I replied, “My name is Mirabelle.”

Chapter Two

That was kind of like the beginning of my problems, but let me start over from the beginning.
My name, as you know, is Mirabelle. I am a vampire. I have given up my soul and am now immortal. This happened about ten years ago now. I always knew I wanted more; there was always a longing deep inside and I knew there had to be more. Life, to me, just seemed like a trap, you would never escape it. And at the end of that trap was death. Something I was not looking forward to.
It began when several friends and I had ventured to a club to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. It was a club hidden deep in the alleys and unknown to most, but a guy I had met the week before mentioned that I should check it out. There were maybe fifty people or so in the club that night. Most were dressed in dark colors; the girls, very risqué. My friends quickly found a deserted table and settled down while I went in search of the mysterious man who had suggested the place.
There were several tables surrounding a dance floor with a stage at the far end underneath a local band. They weren’t too bad. There were small lamps hanging over the tables and black lights and bright flashing lights throughout the club. A bar covered the wall opposite of the stage. The stools were filled, and glasses of a dark red substance sat in front of most of the crowd. I carefully surveyed those sitting on the stools and spotted my man.
I quickly strolled over, tapped him on the shoulder, and said “Hey! Remember me?”
He turned and smiled, his teeth glinting in the light hanging overhead. “Hi! Yes, I remember you,” he replied and asked, “Are you here alone?”
“Oh no. I’m here with a few friends. They are sitting at a table over there,” I replied, gesturing towards a group of tables to my left. “I don’t think I caught your name before we parted last. I’m Mirabelle.”
He gently took my hand in his and kissed it. “What a lovely name. Mine is Anselme*. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I smiled and turned my back to him, surveying the dance floor, and turned back again. “Would you like to dance?” I asked. Hoping he would like to.
“Me?” he asked and added with a playful grin across his face, “I can’t dance, I don’t know how.”
I watched his eyes for a moment, searching for truth in what he had said. “Oh, come on! It will be fun, and I could teach you if you’d like.” I said, tugging at his hand lightly until he finally stood up and took the lead, still holding my hand, towards the dance floor. I waved at my friends as I saw them through an opening in the people who were dancing.
In the middle of the dance floor he spun me in a circle and I watched his eyes survey over my body. That night I had been wearing a short dress. Above my waist it was white with a halter and below was a short black mesh tutu. It had enough layers though, so it would not be see-through. Under that I wore white fishnets and black knee high boots with a heel. I left my long dark hair down in soft curls, and my brilliant green eyes were surrounded by dark, alluring make-up. I bit my lip and felt my cheeks flush lightly with color.
We danced casually, but closely for a while and then he lead me down a long hallway, into a quiet room that was small, but luxurious. He escorted me to a small, circle table in the center of the space and pulled my chair out for me, in which I sat. Leaning down over me, he softly kissed the top of my head. I smiled and blushed.
“I’ll be right back in a few moments, alright?” he said.
“Alright.” I replied.
I sat back in the chair and looked about the small room I was in. There was a bulky sofa against one wall and a large matching chair in the adjacent corner. On all the walls were mysterious paintings, very Victorian in style. Each painting showed deep emotions of love and despair. Loneliness too.