Wiced Game

Written for a club on another page, the condition for the entry was that it had to be based on a song. I chose Chris Isaaks- wicked game. (Stone sours version) Enjoy!

Dracul is oooold..

T.C. is 18

~Wicked Game~

Dracul finds the kid high up on the fire ladder, outside the familiar window. On the regular spot where the boy can be found almost every night, gazing longingly in through the glass with tired eyes, hidden by the darkness when the lights are on on the inside. He sits there, silently observing the motions of the everyday life. All the ups and downs the family on the inside are living, completely unaware of their peeping Tom sitting outside in the cold.

Dracul can't help but to be drawn in by the boy's beauty, even as the thin skin stretched over those pretty features is a sickingly grey in the dimming light of the dying day. The honey coloured hair greasy and sticky, heavily clinging to his scalp. He still looks alluringly soft to touch. His skin, his hair.. those pink, almost white lips.

Yes, there is something about this boy that makes him stop and stare.. unable to look away.

The family isn't home now. Haven't been home for almost a week, so the kid has curled up outside their window, like a lost puppy waiting for its master, shivering in the cool air. Dracul knows he's been there for a long time, probably since the morning, breaking the rules by coming over before the heavy cloak of night can hide him. Maybe he hopes that they will spot him? See him lying so cold and broken outside their warm nest when they come home. If they come home. Have pity on him and bring him inside.

'Silly boy.'

Dracul remains in the shadows, waiting for them to stretch longer and longer over the wet pavement; watching as they chase away the last glimmer of light. Anticipating the moment where the world will be cast in the moon's chilly embrace. So he can walk over to the still form of his fascination, his prey.

He can feel his hunger. His beast lying dormant. So, so close to the surface. He has been up for a while now. Slipping from shadow to shadow. Watching the city bustle around him, smelling the sheep, his food. But he only wants this. This single meal. Nothing else matters. Ever since he first smelled this one, it has developed into quite the little obsession for him, and he has no idea what it is. He only knows that he needs the other, needs to taste him, feel him.

Oh yes.. that soft skin looks so perfect to bite, pierce, suck..lick. He snickers softly. He'll probably get a buzz from the boy's blood if he drinks from him now. So much drugs in his system, too much. Judging by the way the boy is breathing, so shallow, sweat beading on his upper lip. Oh yes, he has definitely overdone it today, too much of the synthetic feelings injected. But not enough, he will still wake from his slumber. And when he does.. a smile creeps over the vampire's cold features.

For over a month now, the vampire has observed this boy. Wanting. And it's so unlike him, to feel like this.. it's almost unnerving. Seeing the boy's loneliness has triggered something inside his own body. A new feeling, so foreign and unfamiliar its almost frightening.

Loneliness..yes, for the first time in over a hundred years, the cold vampire feels completely and utterly alone, Suddenly, its not so fun playing the immortal god anymore. Even as he makes his victims scream in fear, wriggle uselessly in his grip as he crush their bones with his hands, watching the life drain from their eyes. He feels nothing.

Or.. there is something, something new. Something stirring in the center of his very core, something hot, consuming.. the image of the boys weak frame haunting his dreams.

"Fuck.." He curses low, whispering under his breath as he stops to stare at the seemingly lifeless body.

Was it worry he just felt? Even when he know that the boy is alive, can see the blood coursing through those blue veins, so deliciously close to his thin skin, the blood flowing whenever the heart thuds weakly..but still, he feels worried. "Shit.."

He knows this is a stupid thing to do, to go closer.

The best thing would probably be to just kill the boy and walk away. Snapp his neck and leave him behind, forgotten, but he finds himself unable to look away, to just walk away.And to hurt him? Dracul feels his face pull down in a painfull way before he shakes it off. No.. he needs to explore this a little more, figure out what makes him feel so warm, boiling...

So...

So... not dead.

Dracul figures he just need to taste the boy, his blood. One taste to satisfy these confusing feelings, and it will all be alright, like it should be.

He slips up the steep bars without a sound. His feet just barely touching the creaking ladder. Defying gravity in a mocking gesture of just barely touching the red metal with his feet, his hands just almost touching the metal on either side of him, only imitating climbing. Mocking gravity. Like water running the wrong way, he glides up.

He crouches beside the still boy, reaching out to swipe his fingers through the damp, honey coloured hair. Feeling the skin of the other so hot against his cold hand. Too hot.. while the heat is dissipating from the boy's fingers and feet, too much blood rushed to his heart and vital organs, keeping him alive. His body still fighting to live, even as his consciousness is lost to the drugs racing through his system. Poisioning him.

Dracul wrinkles his nose in disgust, the boy really reeks. 'Why the hell do I even feel attracted to this street rat?' but even as he thinks it with his nose crinkling, his eyes soften. His fingers brushing through damp locks again.

Usually; When he first decides to go hunt, instead of using one of the many willing donors in this corrupted city of the apple. He'll go for something a bit more.. sophisticated, something a bit more pure, clean. Sober. Preferably someone who can offer him a fight, a will to live. This boy has none, wasting his life on drugs.

He can smell the chemicals seep through the other's skin, chemicals and sweat.. mingled with grime and dirt. 'Yummy..' his mind makes the remark in a sarcastic voice. Maybe he should take him home, soak him in the bath first..give him some food, sober him up.

Play a little..

Oh yes, they all look special when they cry. The beautiful looking even more enchanting as snot and saliva grow thick with fear. Tears running, blood rushing, the red candy surfacing closer to the skin as every muscle tense in fear. The fear making them stronger, but never strong enough.. oh no. Just enough to make it a little more fun.

Maybe that's what he needs? Maybe that'll help him get over these new feelings disrupting his usual calm. To play a little....

Dracul loves to toy with his prey. Like a cat with a mouse. Giving them glimmers of hope, making their blood boil before he strikes. 'Hmmmm..' He smiles, worrying his lip between his sharpened teeth. Making a decision.

*****************************

The boy is surprising light in his arms. And he fits perfectly in his embrace, head resting in the crook of Dracul's neck as he carries him swiftly through the dirty streets. Still keeping to the shadows, even when it's dark. Only the artificial lights from the buzzing streetlights and countless neon signs giving a false sense of security to the people scattering through the darkening streets of New York.

No one sees him. He has made it an art to slip through the dark like this. Only using the side alleys. Going so, so fast. The people he brushes past not even noticing him. The only clue to his passing; the goosebumps raising on their skin as ice settles in their stomach. Something they will mistake as unconditioned fear of the dark overwhelming them. He knows..he's seen it a hundred times, heard them whisper reassuringly to themselves "Silly.." before they hum a soft tune in an attempt to ignore their basic instinct to run..

'Seriously, people should start listening to their instincts more..'

Dracul stops suddenly, his body going stiff as slender arms suddenly wrap themselves around his neck. The boy suddenly clinging to him, cuddling a cold nose against his even cooler neck, soft whimpers making the vampire frown before he shifts the body a little, pressing the boy closer. He doesn't realize it as he starts humming softly, chasing the nightmares away with his soft murmurs. His step a little more careful now as he is climbing up a rickety fire escape, not that different from the one he found the boy in. Not even bothering to satisfy gravity by mimic human climbing now.

******************************

His apartment is cold, since he is already dead, technically.He really doesn't need the heat to feel comfortable. He's not even sure if the heater works. He frowns in puzzlement when he starts turning the little white knob to his panel oven. Not really knowing why he feels the need to make it more comfortable for the boy when he intends to kill him when he is cleaned up anyway.

But he turns on the heat regardless, flipping on some lights before wandering over the polished livingroom tiles into his bedroom, placing the boy on the black satin covers. The boy whimpers when he tries to pull back from the hold, gripping him closer.

"Shh..it's okay. I won't lea.." He stops himself mid sentence, realizing what he was about to say.

The vampire stands motionless again, staring with crimson eyes down at the still form still clinging on to him, the softness of the other so hot against his icy skin .The boy's breathing isn't as heavy as it was mere seconds ago, his heart not so slow, and Dracul knows that the boy is surfacing from his deadly slumber.

And that new feeling arises in his gut again, washing over him tenfold of what it was before. something akin to panic mingling with the new feeling. How will he react to this new place? To him? Yes.. how will he react to his crimson eyes, his elongated teeth and nails? To his icy cold skin and, and; oh god.. 'How did I fake breathing again? And why the hell do I even care? Shit..' Dracul tries to order himself to move, but finds himself unable to. Icy blue is staring at him from drowsy eyes. And Dracul finds himself drowning..

The moment his eyes locks with the others; he ignites, self combusting. His entire being catching in a smoldering fire that races throughout and inside his being. Sizzling his every nerve ending. Hot fire dancing fast all the way from the roots of his hair and down to his toes, exploding in his fingertips where they dig into scolding hot skin. Unknowingly sending jolts of pleasure through the other. And oh god! his stomach, his soul, his very core is jolted as that image, that beautiful face burnes itself into his memory. A perfect imprint left in his heart.. he is sure of it. And it makes him sick. Dead fish flopping helplessly in his stomach. Sending a rotten taste to cover his tongue. A longing settling inside him, and he just wants to cry.

How could he react so strong to a stranger? A human. A boy none the less. It was confusing, exciting and maddening all at the same time. But judging by the look on the other's boyish features, he has noticed too. Those icy blue eyes wide with wonder and awe. Lightly chapped lips hanging slightly ajar..pale skin growing even paler.

Was it fear?

Maybe..

Love?

Doubtfully..

A massive hangover?

Probably..

But when that first tear fall down a dirty trek of skin, worming its way slowly down a grey tinted cheek. Dracul instincts screams at him to run away, while at the same time; this fucking new sensation is filling him to the brim - making him sick, giddy, nervous. It isn't right. Isn't how it was supposed to be. And; oh god, how easy this boy can hurt him now...Now that he can't even imagine himself striking down on this innocence that lie here before him in the dimming light. Can't imagine losing someone like this. Now that he has found him.

Never had he dreamt he'd meet somebody like him, and never could he even imagine losing him. Just the thought of that hurts too much.

The hunter has become the hunted..the deadly predator caught in a tangled snare wound painfully around his dead heart. The other's eyes holding him captive. Those all seeing eyes burning him, hurting him. Making his cold heart beat in a painful way.

Warming him.

He knows what this is, has felt it once before. So, so very long ago that he hasn't been able to recognize the feeling for what it was. Not before the fire consumed him, drowning him. He didn't even think he could feel like this anymore, now that his human soul was gone.

And oh god no, he didn't want to fall in love with this weak boy, this half dead beauty that looks at him with such tired, but curious blue eyes. Not even a trace of fear in them now, just pure wonder, puzzlement. But then again, Dracul supposes that the boy has nothing left to fear, clearly he isn't afraid of dying, welcomes it even, so why should he fear him?

The silent vampire shifts on his feet, transferring his weight from one foot to the other, shifting the boy slightly in his arms. Filling his lungs before puffing out a breath to make his ruffled bangs clear away from his eyes. Useless. The chocolate brown strands falling back down seconds later to tickle his brow, and he notes that the boy is still holding him tight, those frail hands still shaking against his neck. He knows this is a foolish thing to do. But how can he resist? He knows the boy isn't some pet.. isn't even food anymore. But he can't let him go.. something is horribly wrong. So, so wrong.Because Dracul isn't supposed to feel. Isn't supposed to be feeling anything but selfish things. Feelings that is strictly bound to his pleasure, his needs.. his wants. The world, humans..those filthy pests. He spits the last word out in his mind. God! He hates them.. so fucking much. So why the hell is he feeling so warm, so fuzzy.. like he wants to protect the other, this.. this weak human?

So he lifts the boy experimentally closer, that hot breath just barely fanning over his face now. Icy blue staring into his own blazing red. And then those lips are pressed against his, and even though they're chapped and dry, it jolts something deep within the vampire. That all consuming heat washing over him, drowning him. But this fire isn't like the other one, the needy one. Oh no.. this fire feels welcomed, soothing, chasing away that hurt that threatened to linger in his core. He is touching the other, feeling him, holding him close. Kissing him. And the other is kissing him back. Like a little child testing a new thing, a new taste. That slick muscle sneaking into his mouth, rubbing against and around his tastebuds. Sneaking against his gums and teeth. Breath coming out in heavy puffs against the vampire's upper lip. Soft whimpers slipping out in between the heated kisses.

Dracul concentrates when the first drop of blood dribbles into his mouth, coating his tongue. The other giving a start as he nicks himself on sharp teeth.

"Sh-shiiit.." Dracul whispers. The beast flaring up inside him, the blood tasting like the finest of vines. Like a melting orgasm blowing through him from head to toe. With a growl he pins the other under him, sucking at that bleeding muscle. Feeling the other's hardness against his thigh. Rocking against it. And it feels so good, so tempting.

He has to get away. Has to let go.. because if he doesn't stop now, he'll never be able to. The hunger too strong now, now that he hasn't fed for so long. The other is lost under him. Moaning, writhing. So deliciously responsive. And so lost in the vampire's spell, he won't be able to tear himself free. Like a maggot on a hook.

Dracul cries out with a growl as he pushes himself up and away from the bed. Landing on the opposite side of the room. Wiping away the excess blood from his lips with a shaky hand, his eyes wide with fear.

'I almost lost him..'

His initial feelings of shock and soft fear is subsiding. Anger taking over.. ah yes. That feels much better. Anger he knows.. but it still doesn't help against his need. That need flaring up again now that he isn't so close to the other. His need to touch the other, to feel that warmth, to stop the fire consuming him.

And it hurts him to realize he needs the other...needs him to take this burning away. This addicting fire that makes him feel alive for the first time in a very, very long time. And oh god, even the idea of losing the other hurts.

Dracul sighs heavily.. scoffs, before growling low in his throat while he stares at his feet, shifting his weight again, cursing himself. He is afraid, afraid to look the other in the eyes. And he is too cowardly to look up again, terrified of that burning fire.. "Don't you fucking go anywhere..I need to eat, and unless you want to be dessert, I suggest you stay just where you are. And don't fucking touch anything.."

The boy nods numbly, his face still twisted in astonishment. His mouth and chin a light pink from the smeared blood. But his eyes look heavy, tired. His body shaking, a look of pain flickers over his face, confusing the vampire yet again with the feeling of pity. Scoffing angrily when he realizes that it bothers him that the other feels pain. 'How fucking pathetic.' Dracul growls before he reluctantly reaches out with his mind, touching the other's.. caressing him, making him relax, the pain subsiding as sleep reaches for him in misty red tendrils, tugging at his consciousness. Seconds later finds the boy sleeping heavily again, curled up on the bed. And the vampire slips silently back out the window.

**********************************

Heavy eyelids crack open to reveal a pair of ice blue, bloodshot eyes. The thin skin under the tired eyes the colour of blue pearls on the palest skin possible, making it seem almost translucent.

The boy groans. It's hard to breathe, his tongue feels thick.. sticking to the roof of his mouth. Groaning again he grabs his head, tugging at his short locks of honey golden hair. Letting the sting of pain wake him, assure him that he's still alive. The world is spinning, his skull spinning. He chokes on the breath of air he drags into his lungs and gags. Rolling over to lean over the side of the unknown bed, only foam and clear liquid coming from his empty stomach as he heaves painfully, tears forced from his eyes.

He blinks tiredly, letting his eyes roam over the naked room. Specks of dust hanging almost still in the cold air, dancing in the thin white beams of light that slips in through a single opening in one of the many windows, letting him know that it's day. The two other windows completely covered up with something that looks like heavy metallic plates.

It's nothing new.. to wake up in unknown places. Unknown places with unfamiliar people. But he finds the windows disturbing. But not disturbing enough to make him get up from the comfortable bed. He barely even notices the high standard of the room. The satin sheets. The expensive wallpaper, the thick kind, that feels like velvet with a deep red pattern climbing across it. Huge Chinese vases filled with lilies, filling the air with a soft scent.

Black tiles on the floor, with a drain in the middle..like the one you'd normally find in showers.

'Wait.... A drain? Why would anyone need a drain in their bedroom?' The boy frowns, that unsettling feeling returning again, a little stronger this time. But still not enough to make him worry overly much. He's woken up worse places. As long as he doesn't see any surgical tools, he'll be okay.

He feels his heart thud faster again, painful.

He needs a hit, needs his high. Doesn't really matter from what. But he needs to feel weightless again. He can't take the thoughts and feelings overwhelming him now that his mind isn't fogged up. His body hurts, like some beast is ripping him into tiny shreds, the physical pain not even close to the psychological hurt raging through his whole being. "Fuck.." He stumbles from the bed. Falling to his knees when his toes touch the cool tiles.