Jack walked into the classroom and sat down at one of the battered desks in the back row. He was late as usual, but that didn't matter. He wasn't here to learn. His slate grey eyes scanned the room, watching the other students.
He was a predator. At the most basic level, that is what all vampires were. His instincts cried out for blood. More and more blood. The longing for blood was not like hunger, but rather it was something like sexual desire. Indeed, it filled his dreams, day after day. As a vampire grew older, he became less human, and more calculating and cold. Eventually the desire for blood would overwhelm his senses so much that he'd have to go into a torpor for centuries in order to regain his sanity.
Jack had been embraced into vampirism in the 10th century. He had been in torpor before, and could not stand the idea of returning to that unending waking sleep. The Beast of the vampire within him grew more savage each day, but he fought it. He held the last strands of humanity in his mind like a drowning man holds on to a life raft. He was somewhere between a man and a savage Beast, fighting the Beast at every step.
He took out a simple spiral bound notebook, and sat it on his desk. He reached for a lead pencil from his backpack, and placed it next to the notebook. He already knew who his victim would be. She sat one row in front of him, to the right. She had long dark hair, the color of black coffee, a red camisole, and black jeans that were tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination.
He flipped open his notebook to the first page, and wrote on it a simple message: "We should study together. Talk to me after class." He ripped the page from the notebook and folded it. He tapped the girl on the elbow, and she looked back with a surprised expression on her face. He handed her the note, and she grabbed it and turned away quickly.
She passed the note back to him, without turning her head. Jack opened it and read it. "No." was all that she had written. He smiled to himself – he liked this one. He clenched and unclenched his fist, thinking for a second about how to respond. Then, with his pencil he scribbled beneath her single word: "This note wasn't for you. It was for the girl sitting in front of you. I'd never study with someone like you." Following the last sentence, he drew a smiley face. Of course, Jack wasn't really interested in the girl in front of her. This was all just a game.
He passed the note back to the girl, and she turned to him with a faux-offended expression. He just looked back at her blankly, pretending not to notice her. He sat sprawled at his desk, his feet sticking out in the aisle. He seemed to not have a care in the world. She was going to be his, he was sure.
The instructor droned on and on, but Jack's mind was elsewhere. Specifically, his mind was on the girl, whose back and ass he stared at for the entire class. He imagined ripping off her jeans, throwing her over the desk, and fucking her right there in front of the entire class. He dreamt of her naked legs trembling as he pounded his cock inside her over and over again. He fantasized about running his tongue along those long, elegant legs and then pulling her hair back and ramming his teeth into her neck, draining every ounce of blood from her body. He would then throw her aside; his muscles flush with her blood, and proceed to devour every other girl in the class in a similar fashion. His cock stirred inside his jeans, as the fantasy played out in his head. He waited with nervous anticipation for the class to end.
Finally, the clock's hands pointed to the final minute of the class. The instructor made a comment to him, "Jack Riley, please be sure to arrive on time to the next class, or I will have to give you a failing grade." It took an immense amount of effort for Jack to suppress a sneer. He replied, "Yes, of course" in a flat, emotionless voice. He glanced at the instructor for the first time. He had been so focused on the other students in the class that he hadn't even noticed the instructor. She was a middle-aged woman, well past her prime, but he could tell that she had been beautiful once. Her blonde hair had begun to turn gray, and she had gained a little weight. However, she had a spark of confidence in her eyes that told of a lifetime of being pursued by men and being hated by other women for her appearance. Jack ran his tongue over his teeth, wondering how she would taste.
The coffee-haired girl he had passed the note to stacked her books and stuffed them in to her backpack. She threw the backpack over her shoulder and began to walk out of the room. She paid absolutely no attention to Jack. Jack tossed his notebook in his backpack, and followed her out of the room. He watched her hips roll as she walked. She had the gait of a dancer, alluring and sexy.
Just as he was about to walk through the classroom door, the teacher walked in front of him, blocking his exit. He glared at her, making no attempt to mask his anger this time. She stared straight back at him, her blue eyes unflinching. Jack was impressed. Few women had the courage to stand up to him. He had seen a thousand years of battle and death. He had drained hundreds of victims of their precious blood, without regret. He was a merciless hunter of mortals. Now this teacher seemed to think she would be able to scold him and make him come to her stupid little class on time.
Unfortunately, no matter how much willpower the woman had, Jack had a distinct advantage. As with most elder vampires, he had the ability to control minds, or at least to implant suggestions in someone's head. His eyes bored into the teacher's own. Slowly, he reached out and stroked her arm. She looked away, suddenly embarrassed. Her face flushed red and she returned to the table at the front of the classroom. Her head hung low and she seemed to be on the verge of tears.
The other students were filing out of the classroom, and they looked at Jack with strange, puzzled expressions. He merely shrugged his shoulders, as though he had no idea what had just happened. Pulling his backpack further up his muscular shoulder, he shook his head and walked out of the classroom. He hoped that the pretty girl had not gotten too far ahead of him.
Once out of the classroom, Jack was pleased to see that the girl was not far ahead at all. In fact, she was waiting for him in the hallway, running her fingers through her dark hair. He walked towards her, but slow enough that he seemed to be disinterested. Finally, when he was only inches away from her, he stopped, and caught her glance.
"Let's study," he said.
She tilted her head downward, looking off to the side. "I'm sorry," she said, "my boyfriend is waiting to pick me up after class."
For some reason, this turned on Jack more than anything else she had done so far. His eyes traced the thin strap of her top over her shoulder, following it with his eyes to her pert breasts hidden beneath the soft, supple fabric. He imagined her nipples, pushing against it. He was quiet for what felt like a minute, but in reality was probably more like ten seconds.
He stepped closer to her, so that they were almost touching. It felt like there was a static charge between them. She made no attempt to step away. Jack said, "You have an interesting accent. Tell me where you are from."
"Australia," she said. "I'm a foreign exchange student."
"Taking night classes here at the college? Nice." Jack couldn't care less. He hated small talk. "Do you have a lot of polar bears in Australia? I bet it gets cold there." he asked. He knew that there weren't any polar bears in Australia. He was just playing the role of an ignorant American, teasing her.
