Vampire & Victim

Vampire

I open the door before the first knock even has time to fade but am paused upon seeing you. In my younger days I've visited the harems of Arabia and Persia, temples dedicated to whores and lovers, even crossed both great oceans to experience the so-called New World. Anywhere and everywhere where beauty has been gathered together. You though are in a different class to all I have seen.

I step aside to let you enter my home, a mansion I made my own a few centuries ago.

"Come in child, out of the cold and dark."

I am careful to keep my gaze hooded, my power can kill if not controlled, but I still look at you. You're smaller than I, auburn hair plastered against your back, and your wet clothes cling tight to a gymnast's lithe frame. I can hear the emptiness of your stomach before you can, and turn to face in the same direction as you with a smile.

"My car broke down a couple of miles away. Do you have a phone I can borrow?"

"I'm sorry but no. I can have a message sent off tomorrow if this storm has gone. Please though, feel free to stay the night, have some food."

I watch as you accept my offer, of food at least, and then join you, seating myself at the head of the table.

The evening meal passes quickly, the spread of food originally just for me, and I rise when you eventually clear your plate.

"The guest rooms are in the west wing."

I gesture at the staircase, stepping away from the table and striding over to an unlit fireplace. You can't really refuse me, the storm shows no chance of ending and the nearest village is further away than where you said your car was. I hear your footsteps climb to the first floor, turn my head just enough to observe you, and I see you walk through the doorway, disappearing from my sight.

Small areas, allowing servants to work unseen, exist throughout the mansion and as I enter the west wing's ground floor I'm listening for you. Your footsteps, heartbeat and breathing all point to the Izabella Room, she was a lovely woman, and I carefully enter a cupboard space beneath it. I hear you disrobe, amused by your reaction to the gown you put on. The drop of blood I added to your drink must be having an effect. There's a gentle thump and I turn to the ladder at the back of the cupboard, quietly ascending to be in a narrow gap between the Izabella and Octavia rooms. I slide a section of wall out of position, peering at you as you sleep and then climb into the room, soundlessly crossing to your side.

Whatever dreams are conjured are largely private. I get a sensation of motion, of being unconfined, but the specifics are unknown. It's always this way, my feeding on someone is said to be pleasurable for the victim and their mind creates a scenario to accommodate the sensation. I halt after taking a pint of blood, another couple of drops of mine smoothing away my bite marks, and return to the hidden hatch, closing it behind me.

***

Victim

Fat raindrops plummet down as I run along the country path, utterly lost. A flash of lightning illuminates a nearby mansion, only its core building and one wing intact, and I hurry towards it. I bang on the door but only manage one knock before you open it. There's a moment of silence and I shift awkwardly before you step aside.

"Come in child, out of the cold and dark."

I peek at you as I walk past, intrigued by what I'd seen upon first sight. You're tall and pleasingly thin, your suit surely tailor-made, with a hint of classic nobility to your face. I glance around at the room we're in, attention drawn to the long wood table and the food spread on it as my stomach gurgles.

"My car broke down a couple of miles away. Do you have a phone I can borrow?"

"I'm sorry but no. I can have a message sent off tomorrow if this storm has gone. Please though, feel free to stay the night, have some food."

I'm surprised by the lack of a phone, you seem modern enough, but head over to the table, surveying the spread.

Hungry I select a space round the table, noting you sit at the head, and load my plate with slices of chicken and some salad. You hand me a glass of wine and I carefully sip while eating, unsure of your intentions. I chew my last piece of chicken, its taste somehow improved compared to my first slice, and you stand.

"The guest rooms are in the west wing."

You indicate a staircase as you walk over to the fireplace against the back wall and I hesitate for a moment before ascending the staircase. The door to the west wing opens easily and I gulp when thunder rumbles over the mansion straight after a flash of lightning. I definitely don't want to have to try and get back to my car.

The first room's door swings open when I push it and I enter, shivering a little when I spot the portrait on the wall opposite the bed. It's of a full-figured pale woman wearing very little and reclining on a large bed, the skill of the artist making it seem like her eyes are following me. A quick investigation of the room reveals a wardrobe stocked with feminine nightwear and I blush upon realising just how wet my own clothes are, that I was dripping on your furniture. Stripping quickly I pick out a silk gown roughly my shape and slip into it, enjoying its feel against my warm skin. I flop myself down onto the bed, suddenly drowsy after such a rich meal, and don't even try to get under the covers, simply curling up and letting my eyes shut…

I'm dancing with you, in a ballroom completely unfamiliar to me and wearing a luxurious dress I'm positive I don't own. You're whispering sweet nothings, dipping your head to kiss my neck but no not kiss… I jerk upright, staring wildly around the room in confusion as my brain engages. Weak sunlight can be seen through the windows, obscured by pouring rain, and I sigh gently as I turn from the glass panes. Another search of the wardrobe uncovers clothing suitable for daytime and I pull on a tank-top and knee-length skirt.