Struck By You

Chapter One

I was hunting that night.  I wasn’t sure exactly what I would find, or whether anything would actually be worth the trouble.  But I was in the mood to hunt, so I did.  I was wearing the red coat – I always were the red leather when I hunt.  It’s become habitual, the only warning I give anyone that I’m looking for prey.

Choosing a section of town was hard that night.  I simply didn’t know what I was in the mood for.  I knew it wasn’t high society; I rarely had the taste for them.  Too easy.  I wanted something unique this time, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.  So, I headed for the street markets downtown.  They always offer an endless variety of people, from every culture and subculture in the city.  And, luckily, they were always open late on weekends, serving the drunk, the late night tourists, anyone they could get a dime from.

After about twenty minutes of wandering the crowd, I still hadn’t found what I wanted.  Stopping to buy a pack of cigarettes at a street vendor, I watched the people go by for a bit.  Nothing.  No one stood out.  That was frustrating, but I was patient tonight, so I didn’t let it get to me. 

Just before the vendor started to get uncomfortable with me standing around too long, I took back off down the street, toward the slightly less fashionable area of the market.  There was a park down there, and I figured I could at least sit there till better prospects manifested themselves.

While crossing the street, I found him.  Or, rather, he found me.  That was a bit of surprise for me - rarely did anyone try to pickpocket me, ever.  What was more surprising was that it actually took me a moment to even notice it.  In fact, that upset me.  I only even realized it when I saw him sticking something in his pocket.  I followed him.  

It was a bad night for me.  I hadn’t been high for about a few days now, and I was getting desperate.  Not as desperate as some, but it still hurt.  I needed money.  So, I headed out from the park and started to look for an easy target – one with a full wallet.  I saw her right away, with the red leather jacket.  She was distracted, not really looking to what was going on around her; she’d be easy to steal from.  No purse, though.  I’d have to take what I could get from her jacket pocket. 

Walking toward each other across the crosswalk, our paths crossed about midway.  Swiftly, I slipped my hand into her jacket pocket, the left one, pulled out what I could, and continued walking, quickly stuffing what I’d found into the pocket of my jeans with out even looking at it.

About six steps down the sidewalk, something slammed me up against the fence.  My first thought was shit, she’s a fucking cop.

“What did you take from me?” I said.

“Huh?  What are you talking about?” he said, trying to play innocent and dumb at the same time.  He probably thought I was a cop.  If only.

I checked him mentally.  No defenses, no traps.  Why hadn’t I noticed him before?

“Show me what you took from me” I demanded.  He complied, probably with out knowing why.  From his front pocket of his less than clean jeans, he produced an almost empty pack of cigarettes.  He probably didn’t know it yet, but there was a twenty dollar bill in the pack.  I kept it as bait, and he’d taken it hook, line, and sinker.

I didn’t know why I was showing it to her.  Who the fuck was she?  She didn’t look like any cop I’d ever seen – the walk, the attitude, was all wrong.  Then I looked at the cigarette pack, and saw money shoved into the cellophane.

“I need that more than you do!” I said.

“Of course you do, but what about my needs, huh?” she replied.  “I have needs to.  If I give you that money, what do I get?”

I had no idea how to respond.  What did she want?  Sex?  Drugs?  Maybe she was a cop, and she was baiting me?  Still, right now I was desperate for that money.  I hadn’t stooped so low as to prostitution for my drugs, but I’d considered it.  And she wasn’t bad looking.

“What do you want?”

If only he knew what I wanted.  If he knew, he’d take of running, as fast as he could, in whatever direction his mind told him was away.  Not that it would do much good, though.  I reached for the pack of cigarettes and took them from him.

“I want to take a walk with you, and talk with you” I said, taking a cigarette from the pack and handing the rest back to him.  “Lets go, you lead.”

Huh? I thought to myself.  What was this all about.  I took the money from the pack – a twenty, I was surprised to notice – then threw the rest in the trash bin.

“So, what are you going to get with that, huh?” she said.

“What I need” was all I responded.

“Drugs” she replied.  It wasn’t a question.  Just a statement.

I shrugged, not committing, and set off towards the park.  The park group should still be there, I hadn’t left them too long ago.  Maybe I could loose her around them.  Briefly looking around, I found the bench they had moved to, and walked towards it.

“Friends of yours?” she asked.

“Ya, sure, whatever.”  I said.

He felt the danger from me.  Even if he hadn’t admitted it to himself, I could tell he did.  He had to feel it, otherwise he wouldn’t be leading me toward things familiar to him, his friends.  He hoped he could loose me there, that I wouldn’t want to be around them, that they would frighten me.

“Hey Sidney, who’s your friend?” they called out to him as he approached.

“Chase” I responded.  They didn’t respond.  Their thoughts, however, could be clearly read.  Chase?  What kind of name is that for a girl?

“Chase” Sidney repeated.  He sat down beside a very stoned girl, and looked at me.

Something didn’t feel right.  But what was it?  I had no idea.  But, for some reason, anytime I thought of my stalkers name, it always came out in red in my mind.  Chase.  But what did she want from me?

I stood away from his little group of friends.  They hardly took notice of me.  They only acknowledged his presence by instinct; they were far too stoned to notice anything really.  I imagine Sidney (I knew his name now - why hadn’t I picked that up before?) was hoping I would get bored and walk away.  He was very convinced, I’m sure, that I wouldn’t risk actual physical force to get my money back from him now, especially with his friends around.  And he was right, but not for the reasons he thought.

“It was very nice to meet your friends, Sidney, but you have a bargain to keep.  Shall we continue our walk?”  I said finally, exerting a midlevel mental influence on him.

I looked at her.  She was right.  I wasn’t the kind of person that kept bargains.  I had to keep this one, though; something in my head told me as much.  I stood up.  For some reason, it seemed like my friends hadn’t even heard what she had said.

“You going already, Sid?” one of them said, sleepily.

“Ya.  I’ll see you later.” I responded.

He laughed, looked at the girl, and laughed again.  I knew what he was thinking.  He was thinking I was going to get laid.  Unfortunately, I had no idea what I was going to.

“See ya.”  I said, walking away, toward the railroad tracks.

We walked in silence for a while.  I lit my cigarette and watched Sidney.

“So what’s your drug, huh?”

He didn’t answer right away.  “Whatever I can get.  Downers usually.” he finally said. 

“Hmm…”

What the fuck was so interesting to her, huh?  I didn’t need this.  I needed to get high.  I sighed, and sat down on the tracks.

“So, we’ve walked and talked.  What else do you want?”  I asked.

“Everything” she said, as if it was obvious.

“Do you shoot up your drugs?” she asked, as if I had an obligation to tell her.  I tried to hold out as long as I could before I answered, but I couldn’t resist long.  I was like she had some control over me or something.

“No, that shit scares me” I answered.  I shuddered, remembered suddenly, painfully, watching a junky die of AIDS a few days after I had started living on the streets.  No, I didn’t want to die like that.

“Hmm…” was all she replied, again.

Good.  That made things simpler for me.  IV drug users always taste bad.  Not that they or their diseases put me in any danger.  I just didn’t like the taste of those diseases.  It tasted like sour milk.

I fumbled with the pocket on the inside of my jacket and pulled out a small package.  It had about 5 pills in it – codeine.  It wouldn’t take that much to break down his strangely stronger than usual mental defenses, but it would make him much more comfortable.  I tossed it at him.

His eyes lit up.  Then, he became scared.  Truly scared.

Oh my God! I thought.  What is this person?  I looked at the pills in the baggy she tossed at me.  It looked like lortab or something, but I wasn’t sure.  My body ached for it.  But I was scared at the same time.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It’s what you wanted, what you were going to get with the money.” she said.

“And why should I trust you, huh?”  I asked.

She walked over to me.  I was the closest I had been to her since I had taken her money.  I noticed this time she smelled amazing, intoxicating. 

She reached down and took the baggy out of my hands.  She opened it, and split the pills in half, putting one half back in the bag, keeping one half in her hand.

“I’ll take one half, you can take the other.  That way, you know I’m not trying to poison you or something” she said, smiling, like she expected that reaction from me.

I stuck the pills in my mouth, then reached into my jacket and produced a bottle of water, unopened.  Opening it, I took a large drink, and handed it to Sidney.

He stared at me, not understanding.  But he took the bottle, and the baggy, and swallowed his pills.

“It’s not safe hanging around rail road tracks when you’re high, Sidney.  Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.  I know of a place we can go.”  I said.

He didn’t want to follow me, but he did.  He had to.  It had taken me some time, but I finally had him attached to a strong mental leash.  He might not like it, but he would follow me into Hell if I led him there.

We walked in silence for some time.  Just as I was going to ask how much longer it would take to get to where ever we were going, she walked into an old, uninhabited factory.  I was surprised.  She looked far to upper class to feel comfortable near a place like this, much less actually go into it. 

She led on, up a few flights of stairs and into a locked door, which she had the key to.  Inside, it was very nice - a large studio-type apartment, with a comfortable bed and couch.  It was felt wrong, a place like this existing on this side of town.  No one lived here, I was sure of that.  No one would ever live in one of these condemned buildings except for us street urchins, and we couldn’t afford this kind of luxury.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter any more.  The pills finally kicked in.  I lost all my cares.

“Sit down, Sidney.  I’ll be right back.” she said.

Not seeing anything better to do, I reclined on the couch and closed my eyes.  I heard her flitting around the apartment, then heard some strange music come on.  It must have been an expensive system, because the sound reproduction was perfect, but I hadn’t seen any speakers when I’d come in.

This was really going to be worth it, I thought to myself.  He’s beautiful.  And strong.  I rarely found anyone with such a strong presence of mind, and his was very strong.  Very strong, but not well trained.  Which was unfortunate for him. If he had been trained, I would be a challenge for him, and that challenge would have made the effort not worth it for me.  As it was, I was enjoying this a lot. 

I walked back into the changing area, behind the red screen, and slipped into something more comfortable.  A spider web-thin red gown.  It was one of my favorites.  Slipping a long robe over it, I returned to the living area.

He looked almost asleep, but I knew he wasn’t.  He was drinking in the music.  He didn’t even open his eyes when I walked over to him.  In fact, I don’t think he even realized I’d come back until I sat down beside him and touched his cheek.  That startled him.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s ok,” he said.  “Wow, you look amazing in that.”

I just smiled.  Slowly, I reached out to him again and stroked his cheek.  He closed his eyes, now drinking in both the entrancing music and the physical contact.  I wondered how long it had been since he had been seduced or if he ever had been.

Slowly, I withdrew my hand and lay back on the couch, letting my robe fall open slightly.  He opened his eyes and stared at me.

Where am I, I wondered vaguely.  Had I no idea, but all I could do was to go with the flow now.  God, she was beautiful.  Why hadn’t I noticed that before?  Not even thinking about it, I slid beside her and, taking her hand, kissed it.

She looked up at me with eyes that matched her dress, and smiled.  She let her hand slide down my cheek, to my throat, where it hesitated for a moment before moving on to my chest.  There, it gently, but with surprising strength, pushed me back to my end of the couch.  Then, she was on top of me.

I was hoping she would do that.  I suddenly wanted her more than I had ever wanted to be high in my life.  I felt her kiss my face and my neck, then finally my mouth.  Her kiss tasted like fire.

Slowly, she began to remove my jacket.  I took of my shirt next, and started to undo my pants, but she stopped me with a look.  After kissing me in the middle of my chest, she stood up.  I knew I had to follow.

She led me into the bathroom, and turned on the shower, which instantly started to steam.  I realized suddenly that I probably smelled less than pleasing, and the thought of a shower sounded very nice.  Slipping off the rest of my clothes, I stepped under the steaming jets.

It must have been my imagination, but the water felt like ice and flames at the same time.  It was wonderful, intoxicating. 

I left him to shower.  In the mean time, I switched the CDs in the player with a thought, and went to the kitchen.  I opened a bottle of Un Emile 68 and began preparing two drinks.  He’d probably never had absinthe before.

Taking the drinks, I returned to the couch.  Setting the drinks on the table, I sat down and patiently awaited his return.  Taking slightly longer than I would have thought, he finally came back from the shower.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“A drink,” I said, taking a sip of mine.

Not asking anything else, he picked his up and looked at it.  Sniffing it once or twice, he took a drink.  He made a slight face at the bitterness, but didn’t mention it.

“So what now?” he asked.

“We enjoy each others company, the music, and the drink.” I suggested.

He nodded, took another drink, and laid his head back on the couch.  He looked so comfortable, and almost angelic in a way.  Very tempting, but not yet ready.

What am I doing here, I wondered, sitting in some strange person’s home, drinking some strange drink?  But I could no more get up and leave than I could raise the dead.  I could simply keep going with the flow, but not sure if it would lead me to calm waters or off the edge of a waterfall.

The drink was…different.  I couldn’t place why, but it was pretty good.  I’d like to live like this, I decided.  In a nice place like this, with all the drinks and pills I could want, and a beautiful woman to keep me company.  I suddenly remembered her name, Chase.

“What kind of name is Chase for a girl?” I asked.

“It’s not my name.  It’s just a name I use sometimes.  When I want to,” she answered.

“So what is your real name?” I asked.

“It’s not important,” I said.  And it wasn’t.

I took his empty glass from his hands and gently pushed him back against the couch.  He was still damp from his shower, but now only wearing some pajama style pants I had laid out for him.  Slowly, I began kissing his chest.  He closed his eyes.

Almost ready, I thought.

Gently, I bit him on the neck – just enough to test his reaction.  He didn’t really react, simply made a slight moan.  Slowly, I ran one hand behind his head and began kissing his face.

The drink had fully kicked in by now, and, with the pills, he was floating on clouds.  Still, he managed to find my body with his hands, and his mouth.  I sensed a dangerous sexual passion in him, and that excited me.  Nearly there.

Suddenly, he threw me back across the couch and jumped on top of me.  Almost in a rage, he began tearing my gown apart, exposing my chest.

I hadn’t felt like this in ages.  I certainly hadn’t acted like this in several years.  In fact, I didn’t like to think about the last time I acted like this – it was the reason I had forced myself to the streets.  The drugs and the drink had made me less able to control myself that I had ever been, even back then.  I wanted her.

She let me rip the gauzy gown off her and cover her body with my mouth.  She tasted good, sweet.  I began licking her nipples, then slowly sucking them.  Suddenly, quickly, I bit down on one of them.  Bit down hard, but only enough to break the skin.  The salty, iron taste of blood filled my mouth. 

Then I felt myself flying through the air, and hitting the floor, hard.  That was all I remembered for a while.

+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

I was dreaming.  I know it was a dream because what I was dreaming where things that had already happened.  It was like watching a movie, this dream.  I was powerless to change things; all I could do was watch.

I was young, about 14 or so.  The emotions puberty had introduced to me were still fresh and new.  Being raised at a catholic home for orphans, puberty wasn’t something that was discussed at length, or at all.  Not having any friends further complicated that issue, making me a wreck of sexual desires, unfulfilled fantasies, and unanswered questions.

Still, as happens to a young teenage boy filled with hormones, I had a sex drive set to rival the most reproductive rabbit.  I had to steal petroleum jelly from the nurse’s office to comfort the sores I had given myself.  It was the pain of my self-induced injuries that led me to wonder about other ways to satisfy myself.

That is when I noticed her.

Not that I hadn’t noticed her before, of course.  I had known her for a few years now.  She had been attending the school here since I was about ten.  But it wasn’t until my sexual frustrations had filled all of my waking hours with the desire to procreate that I really looked at her.

Sidney.  Gorgeous Sidney.  Once simply a flat-chested child, she had now become a voluptuous vixen wearing a tight-fitting uniform.  The uniform, designed to hide those aspects of a young woman which draw a man’s eyes, failed entirely to perform its function.  Sidney wore it like she wanted it ripped off her.  And she did.

The two of us didn’t exactly follow the same crowd.  As is typical, non-orphans at the school tended to shun those who lived there.  The result was that I knew her name, but little else about her. 

I never minded this separation hierarchy of the school, really.  I guess, looking back, it was because I was never in any crowd.  I was a loner.  And the sisters liked to keep it that way.  They didn’t like me, and the less I was with others, the lower the likelihood that I could infect them with my strangeness.

Sidney, though, was going through a rebellion stage.  She had started to talk back to her father, the sisters, and even her friends.  Maybe she was simply trying to prove something, but one day, I found her sitting next to me at lunch.

“You’re Pain, right?  You live here?” she asked, although they were obvious questions.

I nodded to her, not really looking at her. 

“What’s it like to live in an orphanage?  To not know your parents?”  She asked.

I shrugged.  How can you explain a life you had always known?  “What’s it like to have a family?” I asked back.

The question caught her off guard.  She thought about it, wondering how I could not know. 

“Well… um… nice, I guess.  Except everyone tells you what to do, and you don’t have any privacy, and no one really cares about you.” She answered finally.

“It’s basically the same here.”  I said.  “The sister’s don’t care about me, tell me what to do, when to do it, and privacy is a non-existent theory.”

“You don’t have anywhere you can go to be alone?” she asked, surprised. 

“Well, there are a few places” I said, thinking about where I’d stashed the petroleum jelly.  “But it’s hard to be gone for long with out them noticing.”

“Show me,” she said.

I looked at her, questioningly.  It was the first time I had really looked at her our entire conversation, and I was a bit taken aback as to what I saw.

Sidney, innocent, care-free Sidney, had indeed grown into a woman.  Her shirt bulged under the pressure of her increasing breast size, and she had left the top button undone so people would take notice of that fact.  Her lips were flushed.  A rosy color blushed her soft cheeks.  She locked eyes with me, and, looking down at her body, flicked her tongue across her lips.

“Show me,” she said again.

Looking around, I noticed the sisters were occupied with showing a new arrival (not another orphan, but a nice, paying student) and his parents around the facilities.  That was very convenient, because when the sisters were showing a new student around, they allowed us to have most of the afternoon off.  Even these women of God, with their vows of poverty, knew the money to pay the bills had to come from somewhere.  And these people looked loaded.

“This way,” I said to Sidney, dodging the eyes of the few sisters left to watch the rabble, and sneaking off toward the dormitories.

Sidney followed silently, never asking where we were going.  I roamed between the halls of the dorms until we encountered a door to the old sanctuary.  This door was usually kept locked, but, strangely, anytime I wanted it to be open, it always was.

“We can’t go in there, can we?” she asked me.

“You want to turn back now?” I answered. 

She didn’t look sure.  Glancing around, she was beginning to realize that she was in a deserted section of the school with the one student the sisters had warned her never to be alone with.  Seeing the fear in her eyes, I grabbed her and kissed her, groping with her breasts.  Then I stepped back from her and walked through the door.

“Coming?” I asked walking further into the chapel.

Giving one final glance to the life she was leaving behind, she nodded, and rushed in after me, carefully shutting the door behind her.

I stopped in front of one of the unused confessionals, and opened the door.  Why the sisters agreed to have a new sanctuary built was beyond me.  This one was exactly what everyone thought of when they thought Catholic Church.  It would have made more sense to use the money to refurbish this old cathedral, but clearly the philanthropists who donated the money wanted something new to dedicate to his lost wife, not something old.  And, looking back, it would have taken millions to make it functional again, just like it would have taken almost as much to even tear it down – thus the reason it was still standing.  Plus, it provided much needed storage for the sisters.

Sidney hesitated again before entering the confessional.  I somehow knew thoughts of how wrong it would be to do impure deeds in a church, much less with in a confessional, were running around her head.  Good catholic girls would never even have such thoughts, much less be on the brink of following through with them. 

“So, the question is, are you a good catholic girl or aren’t you.  The choice is yours.” I said, starting to shut the door.

She hesitated again, but went through the door.

“This is where go when I want to be alone” I said, I was answering her question from earlier.  “But I’m not alone now, am I?”

Only when I said those words and looked again at her did I realize she had undone most of her shirt while we were walking.  Her lacy brazier danced before my eyes.  Longing to find out what was under her skirt as well, I put one arm around her waist and pulled her to me.

She kissed me this time, and I used my tongue to explore her mouth.  Breaking away from the kiss, I focused my attentions lower, working from her neck to her chest.  Tearing off apart the lace, I glanced for only a moment at the perfect nipples of her breasts before burying my face in them. 

For her part, she did much more than simply stand there.  Looking back, it was clear that this good little catholic girl was much more experienced than I was.  While I was occupied with her breasts, she was deftly undoing my shirt and pants.  Soon the confessional was littered with the uniforms which had been designed to quell sexual feelings in youth.

With out realizing what was happening, I was sitting down with her on top of me.  Never in my wildest imagination did I believe that anything could feel as good as this did.  Her, pressed upon me; me, pressing into her. 

And then it happened.

Just as I was reaching the point of climax, I bit her neck.  Blood rushed into my mouth, quelling a thirst I never knew I had.  She screamed, but only screams heard during the throws of passion.  None the less, her scream only excited me further, an excitement which took complete control of me.  Instantly, I wasn’t only biting her, but ripping at her back and chest with my nails.

Her next scream was filled with fear.  I silenced her with a look (or was it a thought?).  Somehow still joined together, I had managed to turn around and pin her against the back wall of the confessional.  With out realizing how I had gotten it out of my pants, I was now holding a small pen knife I had been gifted with last Christmas. 

As I climaxed, I slit a main vein of her neck open, feeling the blood from the gash pour down my chest.  As the smell of this fresh blood filled my nose, I pressed my mouth against the open wound at her neck, drinking in her blood as if it was the nectar of the gods.  The next few minutes felt like days.  Locked as I was in the flow of her blood, I noticed nothing.  Nothing, that is, until the blood stopped flowing.

Sidney wasn’t breathing.  She was pale, not beautiful pale.  Recoiling from her, she dropped to the floor of the confessional with a dull thump.  A dead thump.

My mind rushed.  She was dead.  I had killed her.  As her blood began to dry on my chest, I stood in awe at what I had gotten myself into.

So many feelings welled up in my throat.  Initially, I was disgusted.  I had become a monster, a murderer.  Then I glanced down at the blood all over the confessional.  Just seeing the blood filled me with longing for more.  Its taste still danced across my tongue.

I had to make a choice.  I could stay at the orphanage to be arrested or I could brave the streets.  Not stopping to look back, I put on my clothes and left the orphanage forever.