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Description
She couldn’t stand it anymore. She needed out of here. It wasn’t the dark room that had pushed her to the limit. It wasn’t the deep reds and the lacquered blacks. It wasn’t the smoke curling through the atmosphere of the club, nor was it the quiet moans and muffled whelps of pain. It was the hunger.
Gracefully getting up from the recliner upon which she’d been lounging she arched her back and stretched, hearing her spine snap, crackle and pop. It felt good. Glancing around the room she felt a small bubble of disdain well in her stomach. It moved up to her chest and would proceed to stay at said location until she’d gotten away from this, from these people. She’d known them for centuries…yet it seemed they hadn’t changed at all. Always doing the same things, each night, the same routine. Fucking cunts, the lot of them.
Adam had positioned himself in a large easy chair in front of the fireplace. His curly chocolate locks dancing with the glow of the fire as his neck craned out to taste the soft pink lips of the fair Emily, who sat on his lap, arms outstretched around his neck as they shared secrets of lips and tongues. Their kiss broke momentarily for the dainty Emily to glance around the room with icy eyes but it soon resumed when Adam tucked her golden hair behind her ear and pulled her chin towards his boyish face. There they were, the gentleman and the diva, glowing in the luminous shadows that flame casts on us all. That’s all they’d become to most of their consorts. Shadows…just there in the background for a nice touch. They rarely spoke. They rarely engaged in anything anymore-except each other.
She missed that closeness.
A carnal grunt escaped from behind a blood red silk curtain concealing a small chamber. It was soon followed by a moan and a gasp. Leah was in there, as was Will. Even without her heightened awareness she would have been able to tell it was those two. An oil lamp cast a faint shimmer behind the curtain, shadows of the two lovers playing across the ruby canvas. Leah’s biblical profile could be clearly seen, her face pointed towards heaven in rapture. Will’s head could be seen playing about her neck, obviously feeding. Her hand pushed him onwards, baying him partake of her. Clutching each other closely the lovers toppled over so Will was now even more the dominant one, Leah’s hands raking up and down his back. As soon as one head went up from the nook created by neck and collarbone the other one went down onto the opposite nook. A raspy shudder escaped the boy’s lips as the tables turned and he became prey for a while. Their passion reigned in the bedroom…and their tempers usurped the passion everywhere else. She couldn’t comprehend how they managed to bind themselves to each other…but she guessed the sex must help. Their arguments did not just affect those involved…but the tension dissipated from those two like ripples in a pond. No one wanted to be in the water with them when it was choppy. Not even she did.
She missed that type of closeness too…although she could easily find that on the street.
She needed out of here. Averting her gaze from the sofcore shadows on the curtain she walked past a few darkly clad figures and to the coatroom. Overhearing a chuckle from inside the room she stood outside to listen to the conversation for a little while. She recognized the distinct voices and smiled to herself in the low light. They were so predictable. David was on one of his comedic tangents, doing that thing where he asks what’s up with something or other that doesn’t make too much sense to anyone who doesn’t benefit from it. Ian made noises every now and again from deep down in his throat to sound extremely interested, and would offer a counterpoint here and there…or an account of something that happened to a friend of his-sometimes making less sense than what David had been ridiculing. And then there was Cody. Every now and then a shocking statement escaped his lips, which were usually silent with a sense of not belonging. They would all chuckle at each other’s statements, puns and quips…if I scratch your back you scratch mine. Quite the motley crew they made out to be.
A hunger pain sheared through her midsection…the resonance of it an echo in her now quicker beating heart. Enough, she decided, it was time to go.
Her slender fingers felt the coolness of the brass door handle as she grasped it in her palm. Storm cloud blue eyes lingered a little as they took in the reflection of her hand on the shiny metal. The black lace gloves gained a gold sparkle while the pale white flesh of her hand became a sickly jaundiced when the handle perceived them. With a turn of the handle she pushed the door open and stepped inside, putting on a slight smile for all to see.
Greetings were exchanged. Smalltalk was made. A leather jacket was removed from a hangar. And a girl left the room that smelled of blood and mothballs.

The night air was damp. Although, it was Vancouver…that was to be expected. She buttoned up the top button of her coat, the black leather constricting around her neck to keep out the cold. Her kind weren’t affected by cold. The gesture was done merely out of habit.
Hunger slashed through her gut once more and she began walking down the lamp-lit street. Gossamer reflections shone back at her in puddles beneath her heeled boots. A store sign was soon nothing but ripples and shimmerings as her foot splashed in a puddle.
So hungry. Why the urge was stronger this time than it had been before she didn’t know. Her feeding schedule was normal. She hadn’t starved herself or anything. It didn’t make any sense. There wasn’t time for sense right now though. She needed to find someone. A couple was walking on the opposite side of the street. She smelled of rose oil and he smelled of aftershave. No, too difficult. She needed a loner.
She turned left around the corner of a large brick building, heading towards some bright neon lights. The club district. It was fairly easy to follow a loner or even a group of people…and just yank someone into an alleyway. There was a woman with an afro and a metallic gold shirt stumbling over to a trash can, a man trying to wave down a taxi, a bouncer chatting to a fellow bouncer before exchanging shifts and going home for the night and a bag lady.
She could smell the acrid stench of the puker from where she was.
Taxi man was in a hurry…blood pressure was way too high.
Bouncer had too much cholesterol for her liking.
Bag lady was basically skin and bones, no blood.
She was getting tired of searching, so what if she was impatient she wanted to feed NOW. There was one method she hadn’t tried yet. It was a little degrading…but so was being controlled by the hunger.

Description
She couldn’t stand it anymore. She needed out of here. It wasn’t the dark room that had pushed her to the limit. It wasn’t the deep reds and the lacquered blacks. It wasn’t the smoke curling through the atmosphere of the club, nor was it the quiet moans and muffled whelps of pain. It was the hunger.
Gracefully getting up from the recliner upon which she’d been lounging she arched her back and stretched, hearing her spine snap, crackle and pop. It felt good. Glancing around the room she felt a small bubble of disdain well in her stomach. It moved up to her chest and would proceed to stay at said location until she’d gotten away from this, from these people. She’d known them for centuries…yet it seemed they hadn’t changed at all. Always doing the same things, each night, the same routine. Fucking cunts, the lot of them.
Adam had positioned himself in a large easy chair in front of the fireplace. His curly chocolate locks dancing with the glow of the fire as his neck craned out to taste the soft pink lips of the fair Emily, who sat on his lap, arms outstretched around his neck as they shared secrets of lips and tongues. Their kiss broke momentarily for the dainty Emily to glance around the room with icy eyes but it soon resumed when Adam tucked her golden hair behind her ear and pulled her chin towards his boyish face. There they were, the gentleman and the diva, glowing in the luminous shadows that flame casts on us all. That’s all they’d become to most of their consorts. Shadows…just there in the background for a nice touch. They rarely spoke. They rarely engaged in anything anymore-except each other.
She missed that closeness.
A carnal grunt escaped from behind a blood red silk curtain concealing a small chamber. It was soon followed by a moan and a gasp. Leah was in there, as was Will. Even without her heightened awareness she would have been able to tell it was those two. An oil lamp cast a faint shimmer behind the curtain, shadows of the two lovers playing across the ruby canvas. Leah’s biblical profile could be clearly seen, her face pointed towards heaven in rapture. Will’s head could be seen playing about her neck, obviously feeding. Her hand pushed him onwards, baying him partake of her. Clutching each other closely the lovers toppled over so Will was now even more the dominant one, Leah’s hands raking up and down his back. As soon as one head went up from the nook created by neck and collarbone the other one went down onto the opposite nook. A raspy shudder escaped the boy’s lips as the tables turned and he became prey for a while. Their passion reigned in the bedroom…and their tempers usurped the passion everywhere else. She couldn’t comprehend how they managed to bind themselves to each other…but she guessed the sex must help. Their arguments did not just affect those involved…but the tension dissipated from those two like ripples in a pond. No one wanted to be in the water with them when it was choppy. Not even she did.
She missed that type of closeness too…although she could easily find that on the street.
She needed out of here. Averting her gaze from the sofcore shadows on the curtain she walked past a few darkly clad figures and to the coatroom. Overhearing a chuckle from inside the room she stood outside to listen to the conversation for a little while. She recognized the distinct voices and smiled to herself in the low light. They were so predictable. David was on one of his comedic tangents, doing that thing where he asks what’s up with something or other that doesn’t make too much sense to anyone who doesn’t benefit from it. Ian made noises every now and again from deep down in his throat to sound extremely interested, and would offer a counterpoint here and there…or an account of something that happened to a friend of his-sometimes making less sense than what David had been ridiculing. And then there was Cody. Every now and then a shocking statement escaped his lips, which were usually silent with a sense of not belonging. They would all chuckle at each other’s statements, puns and quips…if I scratch your back you scratch mine. Quite the motley crew they made out to be.
A hunger pain sheared through her midsection…the resonance of it an echo in her now quicker beating heart. Enough, she decided, it was time to go.
Her slender fingers felt the coolness of the brass door handle as she grasped it in her palm. Storm cloud blue eyes lingered a little as they took in the reflection of her hand on the shiny metal. The black lace gloves gained a gold sparkle while the pale white flesh of her hand became a sickly jaundiced when the handle perceived them. With a turn of the handle she pushed the door open and stepped inside, putting on a slight smile for all to see.
Greetings were exchanged. Smalltalk was made. A leather jacket was removed from a hangar. And a girl left the room that smelled of blood and mothballs.

The night air was damp. Although, it was Vancouver…that was to be expected. She buttoned up the top button of her coat, the black leather constricting around her neck to keep out the cold. Her kind weren’t affected by cold. The gesture was done merely out of habit.
Hunger slashed through her gut once more and she began walking down the lamp-lit street. Gossamer reflections shone back at her in puddles beneath her heeled boots. A store sign was soon nothing but ripples and shimmerings as her foot splashed in a puddle.
So hungry. Why the urge was stronger this time than it had been before she didn’t know. Her feeding schedule was normal. She hadn’t starved herself or anything. It didn’t make any sense. There wasn’t time for sense right now though. She needed to find someone. A couple was walking on the opposite side of the street. She smelled of rose oil and he smelled of aftershave. No, too difficult. She needed a loner.
She turned left around the corner of a large brick building, heading towards some bright neon lights. The club district. It was fairly easy to follow a loner or even a group of people…and just yank someone into an alleyway. There was a woman with an afro and a metallic gold shirt stumbling over to a trash can, a man trying to wave down a taxi, a bouncer chatting to a fellow bouncer before exchanging shifts and going home for the night and a bag lady.
She could smell the acrid stench of the puker from where she was.
Taxi man was in a hurry…blood pressure was way too high.
Bouncer had too much cholesterol for her liking.
Bag lady was basically skin and bones, no blood.
She was getting tired of searching, so what if she was impatient she wanted to feed NOW. There was one method she hadn’t tried yet. It was a little degrading…but so was being controlled by the hunger.