The Vampire stalked around the room, moving with a liquid grace that only the undead possess. His shiny black boots squeaked with every turn of his heel, as he paced. The girl that by all means should have been cowering in the corner, as a testament to the unholy light burning in the Vampireâs eyes, just stood to one side, watching him with a steady gaze that proved her to be no coward. Stupid? Quite probably, but not a coward.
His pale skin glimmered under the harsh overhead halogen bulb, making a stark contrast between his white chest, and the black shirt that lay on it, covering the bottom half of a cross-shaped burn above his left nipple. The soft leather pants he wore clung to his muscular frame, tight enough to squeak as he walked and railed in frustration.
âAnd you do not fear me? Why? Why is this so when you live only because I chose it? When you stand there only because I decided instead of ripping your throat out I would rather you satisfyâŠmy other hungers?â
She paled at that. Not that she hadnât wondered why the Vampire hadnât killed her yet, but a girl can hope, right?
She shrugged. âIf youâre going to kill me, I have no escape. If not, I can only wait to see what you will chose to do. Thereâs no use in running around in hysteria, it wonât help anythingâ
Pragmatically she was right of course, but it infuriated him that she had no traces of fear, no respect. He rushed over to her standing form faster then she could see and grasped her by the throat, slowly lifting her above his head, choking her a second at a time. She grabbed his hands, and tried to lift up, to keep from strangling herself, and kicked at him, making contact with his ribcage. The Vampire didnât flinch. He threw her onto a large canopied bed in the corner where she writhed and coughed.