Summary: The walk to her new home.
Distro: this and all of the series: Redssoulmates, WLS, MystifyingDreams.
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You never know what will happen or how the fates will yank your chain. Sometimes you just blow with the bloody wind and see where it takes you. More times than not it’s pretty fantastic and much more interesting than anything you could have planned.
For instance: Would you ever guess in a million years that a random feed in a community center gym could be the moment when your unlife changed? Really changed?
A redheaded girl catches your eye and you fancy a shag and a kill. You’ve never denied yourself anything you wanted. The girl is no exception and you pursue her, your seductive charm as persuasive as ever. Things happen and you feel fate’s pull. And she falls from grace so prettily that you will cherish the memory of it forever.
Her awaking is…well, amusing is the most accurate description, her strange reception to all her new gifts, for the moment, overpowering your urge to dominate and teach. So you sit back and observe her natural acclimation to the dark world to which she now belongs and you, ironically, learn.
Her mind lost nothing in the transition, which can unfortunately occur. She is sharp and observant, although the way she could not figure out the hunger is simply adorable to you.
So now you walk, amble along toward the factory, searching for a good first kill for your new, bright wonder. You see her sniffing the air, tasting her surroundings and answer her questions, and she has many. The babbling is amazing and you hope it will be her saving grace with your dark Princess. And you already know there will be no staking of this childe, Dru will not cross that line and you will not allow it.
She walks ahead, distracted. You can feel three other vampires coming from the left, hear their whisperings about what is yours. They are young and stupid, not detecting your presence, just scenting the girl, looking for an unprotected newborn to screw relentlessly until she is dust. Such things happen. Such things you have done. But this will never be the fate for your young protégé.
You follow, tensed for the kill even as she is distracted by the scent of food that leads her from you. Yet she is silent, understanding that aspect of her new existence, and prowls with a deadly grace that you find endearing. You want to shag her now, fuck her into the ground, and but for the three meddlers you would.
Lovers, young delicious morsels, not more than sixteen or seventeen, have called to her and she has answered. The aroma of them, their passion and need and clumsy fumbling arouse you, but still you watch and feel for the fledglings after your childe.
At anytime you could make them aware of your presence and they would instantly submit to your infinitely stronger demon and leave, however it’s not what you want, not really. You want them to get wound up for her, you want them to see her as she destroys the two on the blanket, sweating and rutting, under cover of trees, never under cover from their kind. You want them to want her and you want to rip them to shreds for wanting her. You laugh to yourself, ready for the games.
“Oh my God, Megan, what are you…are you okay?” You hear her and smell the fear rolling off of the couple interrupted.
“Willow! Oh…I,” The girl pushed at the young man who hovered protectively over her as she reached for the edge of the blanket in a futile attempt at modesty. “Get OFF!” She gave him a huge shove and finally understanding creeps into the male mind: the sex is over.
With an exasperated groan he rolls off, back to the new third party, and slinks on his Fruit-of-the-Looms. You see your girl stifle a giggle as she takes in his sulking poster. She puts her outraged, concerned face on again and faces her “friend”.
“Willow...it’s not what it…”
“It’s not?” The redhead is cool and calculating, something that may have sent up warning signals for Megan if she had not been so flustered and embarrassed. As it is she continues to try to justify her predicament.
“Well…it is…I mean…Jeez Willow!” Giving up, she gathers her clothes and tries to dress under the blanket.
The boy is standing and buttons is jeans, glaring at the person responsible for his stunning case of blue-balls. “Why don’t you get the fuck out of here, Rosenberg?”
You perk up now, anxious to see how her demon will react to a challenge. Again she is mystifying.
“Byron…” She cranes her neck to look at him, gives him her full attention and your cock fills. You want that focus on you and soon. “You’re being here is even stranger than Megan.”
He only scowls. And Willow stalks him. You watch him, standing brave and tall as his instincts tell him to flee. But he can’t, you know it and he knows it. He can’t run from the school mouse. So he stands there, defiant, waiting.
“I mean EVERYONE knows you like…boys.” She smiles, it’s wicked. Your cock swells more.
His frown crumples and for a split second there is recognition. But it is gone quickly as he recovers and dons the tried and true look of mocked outrage. “What? Are you crazy?”
Your girl laughs now, sauntering up to the boy. She leans in and inhales. “I can smell it. Him.” She whispers. Byron pushes her away, only succeeding in making himself stumble backwards as she is unmoved.
You burn for her.
She stalks him now and he backs away, unable not to. She tilts her head, curious. “What are you afraid of Byron? Just me…” She pouts. “Mousy Rosenberg.”
He stills his retreat. “Fuck you.”
“Nope… I don’t have the right…parts for your liking, huh? I think you like the outties.” She grabs an invisible dick and feigns a blow job.
You struggle to keep from laughing. The three vampires in hiding still watch, mostly intent on stealing her kill before having a go at her. Stupid.
Megan is dressed and standing. She rolls the blanket sloppily as she pulls at Byron.
“Come on…Let’s GO!” Her instincts are not warring with pride, however her tugging is useless and he does not come. The boy is riled up and distraught, wondering how Willow could know his darkest secret.
“You go to the car.” He pulls keys from a pocket and hands them to Megan. “Me and the mouse have a few things to discuss.”
“But….” She protests and is silenced by his glare. She turns to go and stops, the lightening fast hand on her arm keeping her from moving. She struggles, fear stepping up properly as the girl she studies with from time to time laughs.
You tense, ready to step in to protect her if needed. But then she wraps the girl up, back to chest, hand clenching in long black hair, neck exposed, her other hand keeping Megan pressed firmly against her, wondering while the confused human cries.
It is beautiful and you swell more. This one is death in mouse’s clothing.
“I like THIS more than he does,” She runs her hand between the girls legs, giggling. “I smell his come all over you, Byron, you rubbed in like lotion, you swallowed it like blood.”
He shrieks as her face changes and her itching fangs tear into the girl. She is messy, something to work on, you suppose. She draws from her deeply and quickly, sucking in massive amounts of the hot liquid each time. The girl screams once, the pain of her veins collapsing en masse excruciating.
The boy recovers his senses, stumbles backwards, tries to run. You start to move and stop. Willow drops the girl and goes after the boy, catching him quickly. She is all business now that the bloodlust has come to the fore. He fights blindly, arms flailing uselessly, tears streaking his face, harsh curses spewing from his lips.
None of it deters her from her goal and soon he is hers as well. And she knows him, kills him slowly, stroking his dick, stopping to whisper vile things to him, her demon in control.
When it’s over, the fledglings turn and creep away, suddenly sure that they do not want to deal with the likes of her. They feel the massive power of her demon and despite her being new, she is too strong to be a minion. Even the stupid realize the dangers of touching a childe. They also finally realize you are near, unobtrusive, but aware of them. And then they are gone.
She calls for you, grinning.
“So…” She asks, bouncing on her heels. “Did I do good? I mean it was incredible, right? Cuz it felt incredible and I felt incredible. Oh and powerful, like nothing could hurt me… well maybe you… and I think that would be a good thing… I mean…you… hurting me…just a little.” And she smiles that crazy innocent, I’d-never-harm-a-living-thing smile and her focus shifts and she is seeing it. What she is meant for. Why she is here. Who she belongs to.
You.
The End