Miranda walked home, as she always did, after work. She enjoyed the peaceful walk, the dim light after the harsh fluorescents at work soothed her tired eyes, and she paused only long enough to kick off her shoes. Looping them over one slender finger, she continued on her way, she was a lithe figure moving down the walkway, lush, full curves filling out the dress she wore, well-toned legs flexing with each step she took towards her home, her dark hair splashing over her shoulders in shimmering waves, and she smiled to herself as she moved. The workweek was over, and she had the entire weekend to herself now, she had plans of absolutely nothing but chilled wine and bad movies.
Behind her, the shadows stirred, a gentle swirling as a figure appeared, seemingly from nowhere, watching as she moved down the street. He was tall, powerfully built, and moved as though he were a part of the darkness itself as he monitored her movement down the street, watching her enter her building. A sinister smile spread over his lips as he again vanished, only to appear once more upon her balcony, cloaked in the darkness, his feral gaze watching through the frail glass as she moved about her apartment.
Unaware, she walked through her place, entering her bedroom, only to return a short time later, clad in a short silk robe, her hips rolling gently as she padded into the kitchen to retrieve her wine and a glass. In minutes, the lights were off, the only illumination was from the flickering screen of the television across the room as she curled on the end of the couch, sipping the wine as she watched the night's fare of old movies, mostly black and white horror flicks, an amused smile on her lips, she loved these tacky old things.
He waited, he was a creature of the ages and a few hours were nothing to him as he stood on the balcony, watching as she emptied the bottle of wine, her eyes becoming heavy lidded, and her posture slumping slightly on the couch as she watched the images on the screen. When he deemed the time right, he again employed the shadows, slipping through them like a malignant fog to emerge behind her silently. Ironic really, the image on the screen was of a woman, being seduced by a vampire, and he almost laughed at the parallels. Though this woman's "seduction" would be nowhere near as peaceful as the woman's on the screen.
Miranda shifted on the couch, stretching out over the cushions as she watched, and rested her head to the arm as the movie progressed. She barely felt the first touch, so soft was its caress, though her form shivered as though a chill had passed through her. The second was more insistent, more intrusive, and it felt as though something was slithering under the hem of her robe. Startled, she jerked upright, swatting at the robe with a clumsy hand, tipsy from the wine. It was then he began in earnest.