2
THE CREATURE
“Go on, keep squirming. Then I can show you how delicate windpipes really are,” I whispered, brushing my bottom lip across the pretty birdie’s ear. A satisfied groan escaped low in my throat when my words earned a sob from the frail little thing.
I trailed my lips down to her neck. I could practically feel that metallic tinge in the roots of my canines.
She wriggled one more time before I bit down on her neck, pressing her hips closer between my legs to hold her in place. Heat flooded my throat and warmed my body faster than neat whiskey. I pulled back to inspect my handiwork, edging myself to savor the taste and make my meal last a little longer. Besides, carrying dead weight would be more unpleasant than her current flightiness.
Click.
Ihatedinterruptions.
It took a moment to force my attention from the fresh body, and my eyes slowly settled on the figure in the archway.
Oh? I wasn’t prepared for another course just yet. My luckynight.
I inspected the body standing in the archway. It appeared much more delicious than the one in my arms.
Her tall, lithe figure was swept up in buttery black fabric. Images of how it would look discarded on the floor immediately made a home in my mind. I would have mistaken her for a shadow between her black dress and midnight hair if it wasn’t for that milky flesh. Her eyes were like the tundra ice, unforgivingly cold and vexed.
A smirk crept past my facade, making those pretty lashes of hers flutter in disbelief.
Will she be sober enough to remember me? Was she scared or fascinated? Why was she juststandingthere?
Why was her expression more satisfying than the mouthful I just savored?
My fingers dug deeper into the prey in my lap, eliciting another feeble sob.
A flash of anger graced those bright eyes.
Would she make a similar sound when I grabbed a fistful of black hair? When I wrapped my fingers around that graceful neck? Would she fight me, curse my name like a witch? Or would she cry, begging me to keep going? All questions I would happily seek answers to.
I flattened my tongue on the poor soul’s neck, sliding it slow and steady. A trail of blood and saliva painted the canvas of skin.
What will you do now, voyeur?
A fire alighted in her. If I had been closer, I might have been able to smell it radiating off her like heat from a furnace. My amusement was cut short as she slipped away while I was lost in thought.
What a shame.
My appetite had changed. The meal I just witnessed was worth the hundred inebriated snacks I would catch this evening.
It had been a while since that unbridled passion for the hunt returned to me. I must have just needed something worth chasing.
Will you have just as delicious an expressionwhen I catch you?
3
THE POISONER
Nauseous.
Alcohol threatened to make a reappearance due to my inability to gauge my own limits. My head swam until memories from the night before resurfaced in my murky brain.
Those dead eyes were still burned onto the back of my eyelids, haunting my nightmares as well as my daydreams.
My stomach finally released some much-needed reminders into the water closet, though all those memories in particular had turned to bile.
