Midnight's First Victim

Lust Or Love?

If blood was how you became energized and it was what kept you alive; wouldn’t you do whatever you could to get it? Well, no one wants to die so of course you would. At least this was Midnight’s philosophy. Being something—not someone for she was not human—that was driven by blood lust and survived on humans screams. She could not, after hundreds of years, say that she survived on any other philosophy.

Damien on the other hand, was happy to pig out at a barbeque for he was not a ‘thing’ like Midnight. He was human, but his family had too many run-ins with the immortal world. So often in fact that they had become a part of that world. No longer able to keep their mouths shut about the vampires, that the vampires had thrown some chains at them and said ‘now you do what we say’, fun right? Well that was about eighty years ago and that chain might have rust on it but, it was still tight as ever.

Midnight only kept Damien around because she was told to. The council still expected that his family had big mouths. Give it another hundred years, they said. Then maybe the mortals would have learned their place. She doubted it but, left it along. Who was she to judge the wisdom of thousands of years? She was only close to three hundred years old herself. No where close to the experience, at least no where near a vampires experience. She was still quite powerful for three hundred. Hey she was able to keep Damien in check was she not?

If only you could see some of the scars Midnight had left on Damien’s unstable flesh. All the scars mostly from her nails, not even her fangs. It was actually a fairly interesting relationship between the vampire and mortal. Somehow Damien reawakened emotions a vampire should have long forgotten. And inside Damien, Midnight awakened such curiosities that he was glad he was not a cat for it might kill him. If you really though about it. The reason Damien probably didn’t mind being enslaved was Midnight’s crimson hair, and luscious body structure; men…