*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1353792-Instantationism-Becomes-Unquenchable
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1353792
A vampire was never meant to be controlled by a human... (I'll kill him for sure...)
THIRST.

That was all I could think, consumed with the lust that made my limbs numb with weakness, reduced my mind to an animalistic instinctive behavior.
         Thick, opaque clouds congested the greenish sky, tall trees accenting the scenery with their sick limbs, stretching heavenward, like crippled fingers reaching out to snatch a newborn child from his mother’s arms.
Where was I? Not that it mattered…
I collapsed to the ground, reduced to a quivering mass of flesh on the ground. Dried, dead leaves cushioned my cheek.
My fevered eyes closed, my senses dulled. I was more in a state of unconsciousness than a state of sleep.


The next thing I was aware of was the feeling of hands on me, brushing over my skin, and then searching, as if trying to find something. Then the hands grasped my shoulders, and rolled me onto my back. My eyes snapped open, and even before they focused on my prey, I attacked.
A blur of motion, I sprang to my feet, launching myself at the human that had been crouched over me. The first thing my mind had done was analyze the situation. I’d lost the preferred element of surprise I usually used; attacking prey while they were yet unaware of my presence. In this case, to gain the upper hand, I would have to be as swift as possible, and though clearly visible from the start, move abruptly enough to catch the prey off guard.
         But I’d forgotten my weakness.
         I panicked the instant my body crashed into the human’s; my leap had not been nearly as forceful as I’d intended; it was hardly enough to knock him over.
         I quickly reeled back, dropping into a crouch several feet from the human. It was then that I managed to see him properly for the first time.
         Though struggling to regain his balance from being attacked, I could see the human was in his late twenties by human standards, tall, with dark brown hair, nearly black. His skin was quite pale, as if he avoided being caught in the sunlight, and it gave off an eerie blue glow in the light of the moon overhead. His eyes, now flicking upward to stare at me, were a fierce blue-green, like the sky before a storm.
         He rose to his full height, blinking, still looking at me- not fearfully, but curiously- and raised his dark brows.
         “Well,” he said simply, “That was unexpected.” Then he drew a knife.
         My eyes narrowing into slits, I hissed threateningly, my body coiling, preparing to spring at him again.
         “Now, now…” he murmured, his eyes flicking over me calculatingly. “All I want is your valuables. Any coins you have, and your jewelry, if you have any. Hand it over nicely, and maybe I won’t hurt you.”
         Ignoring his words and the knife, I leapt at him again. I tackled him to the ground this time, trying to pin him down, but he recovered quickly, slashing the blade across my shoulder, tearing open the flesh underneath the tattered grey tunic I wore.
         A feral scream of pain and anger flew past my lips, half the motivation behind the outcry fear of the disadvantage I’d put myself in. Weariness already dragged at my body, slowing my thinking and letting my unpredictable instincts overtake my mind.
         It seemed like an instant later, the man had flipped me onto my back, pinning me to the ground as I’d intended to pin him, his knife hovering just above my neck, poised.
         “Now,” he said. “Are you ready to hand over your possessions? I’m a thief- I have to make a living somehow…”
         I stilled, my eyes staring up at him, two rage-filled orbs of fire.
         “I own nothing,” I hissed finally, no other way to get myself out of the situation.
         He raised an eyebrow. “Nothing?” His grip on me grew lax, as if he were disappointed by my answer.
         I saw my chance and wriggled quickly out from underneath him. He was on his feet before I could manage another attempt of attack, and I contemplated in that instant whether or not to turn and flee in search of easier prey, but this time, he was the one who initiated the attack.
         Diving at me, he grabbed my arm and flung me forcefully to the ground. I quickly rolled off the momentum he gave me, staggered a bit, but managed to end up in a low crouch.
         He circled around me, and I followed him movement, analyzing his every move, struggling to maintain my mind in order to renew my waning strength.
         “An interesting thing,” he said, his voice almost accusing. “A girl, in the middle of the forest, appearing as though dead, and then attacking one who could perhaps help her.”
         “Help me? Or rob me?” It was my turn to sound accusing, but I couldn’t help but suppress a smile. Oh, he could help me, all right. But perhaps not in the way he expected.
         He shook his head, and then feigned a lunge at me.
         I instinctively tensed, baring my teeth at him.
         He froze, staring at me, eyes wide in disbelief.
         I knew instantly what he must have seen; my two canine teeth- longer than the rest of my teeth and pointed to a razor-sharp tip- lethal, deadly.
         “Vampire,” he whispered in realization. He took a half step forward, as if transfixed at the sight of me. I stood still. Would he perhaps give me his blood willingly?
         But this, too, was a ruse. He abruptly snapped out of his haze, seized my wrist, and twisted it sharply. I felt the bone snap under the pressure, and I screamed as pain shot like fire up my arm, numbing the limb. I collapsed to my knees, the weakness plaguing my stronger than ever. The man wrestled me to the ground.
         I tried to throw him off me with my good arm and my legs, twisting my torso, writhing, trying desperately to injure him as my senses faded into thoughtless destruction.
         The taste of blood revived me. I realized that somehow I’d managed to bite into his forearm, drawing blood. He was desperately trying to shake me off, his face, coated in sheen of sweat, was a mask of pain and growing anger. I merely bit down harder, warm blood flowing past my lips.
         Suddenly there were hands around my neck, fingers digging cruelly into my skin, yanking me backward. What? A second person?
         The human man threw me roughly to the ground as I was torn from his arm, leaving blood trailing down his pale skin. The hands around my neck threw me to the ground. The man leapt atop me to keep me pinned.
         Searing pain unleashed itself throughout my side as the blade of his knife tore through me. I cried out, and then stilled, painfully aware of my defeat as he held the knife poised above me. For a moment, all was still. I stared straight up at the sky dotted with silvery stars, not breathing; half hoping my time of death was finally upon me.
         “There must be some kind of payment you can give me in return for your life, vampire.” His voice was tight, yet somehow calculating. He drew in his breath in deep gasps. At least I could allow myself the satisfaction of tiring him out. A drop of blood dripped off his arm and splashed warm and oozing onto my neck.
         I said nothing.
         The tip of the man’s knife pressed against my throat. I flattened myself to the ground, trying to avoid the sinister touch of the blade, but it was omnipresent.
         “Don’t kill it, Walker.” My eyes flicked up to my captor. Walker. He stared down at me expressionlessly, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. I switched my gaze to his companion.
         Though similarly tall and dark haired, the female did not seem to be related to Walker. Her features were distinctly different, of no resemblance to his.
         “Come on, vampire girl,” Walker persisted. “Name the price you’re going to pay for me allowing you to remain alive.”
         “I own nothing,” I managed to spit out, a repeat of my previous words. I hated how pitiful my voice sounded.
         “Oh? I think you do. Your life, at the moment. Give me your servitude, and I’ll let you keep your miserable blood-sucking life.”
         “No.” The word passed my lips in a feral hiss.
         “This is my last time asking politely. Don’t make me resort to torture.”
         “Kill me instead!” I growled venomously.
         Walker laughed. “That only makes me want your servitude even more. Tell me.”
         “No!”
         He slashed at my stomach again, and then watched silently as I forced back an agonized scream of pain. He pressed his hand down on the wound, and then twisted the ripped skin viciously with his fingers.
         This time a screech ripped from my mouth, echoing eerily through the silent night air of the forest.
         “Well?”
         I could not answer past the searing pain in my skull, and I realized a horrible high-pitched keening noise was passing my lips, roiling up from deep inside my body.
         “Stop!” I finally whimpered.
         Walker withdrew the pressure from my throbbing torso almost immediately.
         “What is it?”
         “Blood bond,” I gasped out. “Make a blood bond.”
         “And how do I do that?”
         “Just say it!” My voice was barely recognizable as even remotely human.
         “Tell me what to say.” Walker’s voice was harsh and demanding.
         “Say you want to form a blood bond… say who is master… who is slave… make it as thorough as possible…”
         
         I couldn’t remember what happened next very clearly. I only remember that Walker began to speak, his voice a humming, droning noise that set shivers of dread running down my body, which tingled like the sun was beating cruelly down on my skin, even though the moon was high in the sky by this time.
         Then next thing I knew, Walker had my head in his hands, shoving my mouth to his neck.
         The thought of resisting never crossed my mind at the time- I bit gratefully into his flesh, drawing in mouthfuls of his sickly sweet human blood.
         One sip would have been enough to revive me and heal my wounds of the damage he’d done, but I was horrible thirsty, and I drank greedily. Maybe I would never stop.
         “Walker!” His companion’s voice was alarmed.
         “Get away! Run!” Walker gasped out; a tremor running through his body at the pain the movement of his words caused him. “I’ll find you later.” I laced my arms around his shoulders, but he pushed me away.
         “Stop!” He cried out, pain coloring his voice.
         My fangs retracted from his skin, and I fell away limply, suddenly dizzy.
         Walker collapsed beside me, and abruptly lost consciousness.
         And then I did as well.
© Copyright 2007 Genesis Rose (genesisrose at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1353792-Instantationism-Becomes-Unquenchable