Curiosity Killed the Cat

         Ryan had lost the concept of both time and place and suddenly she seemed to feel as of she were fumbling towards an ecstasy that she never had experienced before. Never as a typical human had she felt something like this… or as what she was. She knew she had done something. She could taste it in her lips, but she was still afraid to truly look knowing the damage she could have done. She felt amazing. She didn’t want the truth to spoil it for her. She knew she was selfish for it, but she felt good lying to herself and relishing in the newfound delicious feeling she had just discovered.
         “You are such a bitch, Ryan” ,she thought guiltily to herself, “You need to look. You’ve done something to Jason. You’ve done it”
         She still saw the white, pure snow turning into a sea of blood in her head. She was hoping for this vision to be just that: a vision. She wanted Jason to be breathing when she opened her eyes. She either didn’t want him to be drained to the point of imminent death or wanted to successfully make him what she was. She hoped, wished, prayed to whatever higher power would listen to her at this point.
         “Please be there” she took a rest from her rapture to whisper painfully to herself. She felt wonderful still, but guilt and fear was killing her all in the process. Pain with her pleasure. She felt some faint respirations, yet Jason didn’t seem to be struggling, hurting or fighting. It was strangely obscene as to how serene he was. It wasn’t right to her. He was either dying or far too trusting of her. Perhaps it was a little of both. He was dying peacefully as the result of the horrible trust he had in her.
         She wanted to stop, but her will was too weak. She was always a strong person, but pleasure was getting the best of her. She was a terrible selfish sinner. She knew she was. Jason continued with his peaceful death and Ryan continued with her pleasure and fear and cowardly refusal to look at the damage she was creating. She became very fatigued with the drinking she was doing. She believed she was not getting drowsy from the drinking itself, rather the sleepy feeling came from the time of day it was. She continued to have her eyes closed, but she could see the red of the sunlight streaming through her closed eyelids. It was dawn. Sunlight did not burn her skin like the myths had told. Rather she became drowsy during dawn just as humans became drowsy at dusk. In fact, she rather liked the feeling of a slight warmth from the sunlight across her arms when it was a good day and she could still feel some human sensation. Perhaps the sunlight was saving Jason in this moment. She was becoming too fatigued to continue. Ryan stopped. She unlatched from his neck and, ironically enough, began to apply pressure to the gushing wound. Deep down she really didn’t want to murder Jason. She just wanted to experiment with him because he was willing to participate. Jason’s warm blood was painting her hand and, in return, she began painting small red swirls into the white snow. The snow was turning the blood red that she had imagined. She starred at the egg yolk cold winter sun set among the shining frost that rested on the barren tree branches as she both attempted to stop Jason’s bleeding and paint with his blood. Her breathing was slightly labored with her exhaustion. She was shaking. Her limbs were tingling. Warm blood was dripping from her open mouth. Jason continued to breathe shallow respirations.
         “What have I done?” Ryan continued to breathe heavily. She felt as if Jason’s blood were caught in her throat and choking her. She wanted to vomit.          
         “Jason, be OK” she coughed. She applied the pressure greater than before. She had to reconcile for her pleasure. Jason continued to breathe short, irregular breaths. He continued to sputter blood to the rhythm of his heart. Nothing stopped it. He was going to die. It horrified Ryan.
         “And curiosity killed the cat… curiosity killed the cat…”