She walked down the empty darkness of the alley, her black high-heeled shoes making soft clicks on the pavement. The expensive black skirt and white silk blouse she wore seemed to contradict her age. Only older people could afford such clothes, but she looked like she was in her mid-20s. She normally wore this outfit when she was going to bars to hunt. Lately, though, the people she had gotten at the bars hadn't been her best choices. True, she'd fed well from them, but in the end, she couldn't help feeling used for all the effort they had given her. She felt her stomach clench, empty, hungry, the sudden pain of it causing her to double over. She staggered against the wall of the alley, her long, thick, wavy brown hair tumbling over her drooping head. She pressed her fingers against her stomach tightly, trying to ease the hunger. It slowly passed, leaving her gasping.
She sat down on the ground, mindless of any refuse that she may be sitting on. She leaned her head against the wall, her eyes closed, letting the moon bathe her small, petite form. The pale light caused her similarly pale face to shine. She pulled her legs up against her chest and clutched them tightly. It had been too long since she had fed, and the hunger, the monster inside of her, was making that fact known to her.
The monster didn't care who was hurt, as long as it was fed. Young or old; male or female; large or small; black or white; appearances didn't matter. Food was food, regardless of the container. But her own mind couldn't accept that reasoning. She didn't like the idea of using the people that she fed from. Money, pleasure, or a simple kind gesture had to be left behind in exchange, she thought.
A small form moved in the shadows in the alley opposite her. Her senses instantly on alert, she wasn't prepared for the mangy cat that slowly walked up to her. Still clutching her legs to her chest, she leaned forward, offering her hand to the small creature. It came closer, unafraid, and sniffed her hand. Her stomach clenching again, she couldn't keep in the small groan that suddenly escaped her. The cat, sensing her problem, ran away, disappearing in the shadows that filled the alley.
Her eyes followed the path the cat made and came across a small ground-floor window across from her. The window was cracked open an inch or so, letting in the cool breeze that this night offered to the city. Her stomach clenched again, but not as hard, thankfully. An open window might mean food. She slowly stood up and staggered over to the window, peering in. Her eyes, long-since adjusted to the darkness, saw a simple bedroom beyond. The bed itself rested at the base of the window, just to its left, with a small end table beside it. A dresser was against the wall opposite the window. A doorway to the rest of the apartment was to the right of the dresser, and a closet sat on the window's right. But more importantly to her and the hunger was the single form resting in the bed, the bedcovers only adorning his lower body. Probably in his early-20s, short brown hair, clean-shaven, and with a hairless chest, he was another average-looking guy, but that didn't matter to her.
She stepped away from the window, peering up and down the alley, making sure that it was empty. Except for the shadows, it was. She closed her eyes and felt herself dissolving, weakening, getting lighter. She focused her mind on the room beyond the window. It was always difficult when she became a pale white mist, but she succeeded, pulling her body and her thoughts together to find herself inside the bedroom, standing at the foot of the man's bed. She grinned softly. A few decades ago, an open window didn't necessarily mean an invitation, which her kind needed. But times change, and now an open window is an invitation for predators to come in and take what they want. She wasn't interested in the man's material possessions, but she knew she was a predator just the same.
The hunger clenched her stomach again, violently. She doubled over, willing herself not to make a sound. It was almost time, she told herself. Just wait a little longer. She slowly stood back up again, and undid the buttons of her white silk blouse. She took it off and tossed it on the floor, leaving on her simple white bra. She took off her black high-heels and tossed them next to the blouse. After some thought, she took off her thigh-length black skirt and tossed it away with her other clothes, leaving her in her black thong panties. Sometimes they struggled when she fed from them, and she didn't want her clothes ruined. Worried that her hair, which fell to the middle of her back, would wake him up before she was finished, she pulled a string from her skirt and tied it into a quick ponytail.
Taking a deep breath, confident that she could feed from him without him knowing, she slowly climbed onto the bed. The hunger was causing her stomach to cramp almost continuously now, but she willed herself to move slowly, afraid that her movements would wake him. He was lying on his back, which made access to him easier, she thought. It was always difficult to feed from the side; the best position was from their front or back. Lying on top of him would prove particularly useful, since it would be easier to pin him down if something happened. Straddling his waist, she slowly bent down, nuzzling his neck, her soft breath caressing his skin. She could smell the life that pumped through him; it called to her. She slowly licked his neck, preparing him. She was startled to feel his cock begin to harden between her legs, and she pulled back slightly. His eyes were still closed. How odd for him to suddenly stir when all I did was lick him a little, she thought. Just to be safe, she softly pinned his arms down, knowing that if he did wake up and struggle, her strength would keep him in control long enough for her to finish.
The hunger called out to her again, and she was confident that both she and the man were ready. She bent back down to his neck, and slowly brought out the twin ivory fangs in her mouth. Taking one final deep breath, savoring the anticipation of his life's fluid running down her throat, she quickly pierced his skin. She heard the man gasp when she bit into him, and felt him struggle a little. She used her strength to keep his arms pinned down while she fed, but his struggles soon stopped. She felt his breathing get heavier, and, surprisingly, she felt his cock grow harder between her legs. She ignored it all, though, focusing on drawing his life into her, trying not to hurt him too badly. When he woke up, all he'd have was a small bruise where she had bitten him and vague memories of pleasure.
His rich red blood flowed into her mouth like a river, and she gently sucked from the twin streams that her fangs had made. The hunger howled, crying out for more, and her stomach clenched again, but she kept herself in control. Just because she lived with the monster inside her and did its bidding didn't mean that she couldn't have some compassion. She couldn't bear to drain her victims, but rather take just enough that the hunger would be sated for awhile.
This one was different, though. His blood had a taste, a flavor that she hadn't tasted in several years. She drank slower, savoring this strange taste. Her mind focused, trying to remember. It hit her then; an Innocent! It was an ancient term for people that had not yet experienced the full pleasures of life. In today's language, she thought, a virgin. She sighed, her breath tickling across the man's neck causing him to shift slightly. She wouldn't experience this taste again in a long time, she knew. She drank slowly, savoring the flavor, the uniqueness, but still not taking enough to cause him harm.
