Okay, this is a one-shot I wrote about a month or so ago. I have to say, it's probably one of my favorite things I've written so far. The funny part is… I wrote it when I had a cold, which makes me wonder what I could write with the flu? (kidding)
Many thanks to Nienna Silmarwen for beta-ing this and giving me input! You are truly amazing!
Now, I think just about anyone that has read Dracula fanfic could relate to wishing this could happen…you'll see what I mean. –evil laugh-
Rain poured down as lightening lit the black heavens and thunder crackled. The hour was late, so late that there would be no one to heed the distress of the tormented young woman.
So she ran... as if she never had before.
Her blonde hair dripped at the ends, while her t-shirt and jeans hung heavily on her body. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks but were washed away by the falling rain. Her apartment seemed so far away, though she had no intention of stopping until she was locked safely behind the door.
There was no fear for her life, well-being, or possessions. It wasn't like that. But it was the fear of spiraling out of control with a feeling she had never known. It happened every time she saw him... the dark stranger.
He had been haunting her for a week now, whenever it was night. She had never fully seen him or his face clearly but knew him to be tall, with broad shoulders, hair as the color of shadows, and chiseled features.
But what always gave him away, were his eyes. They were unnaturally bright and ever so strange to her. There were times she couldn't see him at all, however that didn't keep her from knowing that he was watching. There was a presence about him; it was heavy and evil, yet so very alluring.
That was what terrified her.
Luckily, her apartment was only a few blocks away, so she arrived there within minutes. She bounded up the stairs to her door and then frenziedly searched in her pockets for the key. Once found, she opened the door and rushed inside, closing and locking it behind her again. A sense of security flooded over her and she collapsed on the floor in a heap. She began to sob, letting everything go.
She couldn't understand; why was he following her? What would did want with her? She was just an average girl trying to get through college. She didn't have anything of value; she could barely pay the rent. Nor didn't she see anything different or beautiful about herself, except maybe her mind. But how would a stalker know what was in her mind?
After her tears subsided and worries faded, she stood up, her legs rather weak, and went straight for the shower. Shaking from being so cold, she closed the door to keep the heat in and then turned the water on almost hot, before practically peeling her sopping clothes off her body. She stepped into the soothing water feeling its cleansing effects and warmth go to her freezing limbs.
All the while, unbeknownst to her a fog came pouring in under the front door.
When she was through, she wrapped up in a towel and left the steamy bathroom for her own bedroom; obliviously walking past the fog that now encompassed her small living room floor. She put on some cotton drawstring pants and a tank top, and climbed into bed exhausted.
Thoughts and questions of that evening and past weeks' events racked her tired mind. She sighed and rolled over, hoping to find a more comfortable spot so that she would fall asleep quicker but only found that she faced guilt.
Her eyes had fallen on her desk, cluttered with scratch paper, notes and her black laptop. Other than for school it seemed like forever since she had written anything. It started -or stopped- with a bad case of writer's block then life got in the way and now the constant worry and running from that ever-present stranger was taking its toll. She couldn't remember when she updated one of her stories last. Had it been three weeks? A month? Two months? She honestly didn't know.
Shutting her eyes, she tried to fall asleep and surprisingly... it worked. As her body relaxed and strange dreams filled her weary mind, the fog started moving, slowly, towards her bedroom. It flowed in through the open door and began to build and rise at the foot of her bed.
In less than a minute, the room was clear and in the place of the fog was a man clouded in darkness.
His eyes were an unearthly azure and brimmed with an intensity that only he possessed. A small curl graced the corner of his lips as he surveyed his unsuspecting victim. She squirmed under the sheets as if his gaze was heavy enough to feel.
Without so much as a sound, he walked over to the edge of her bed and sat down. The soft mattress depressed slightly under him and she mumbled and moved as if she had felt it. He leaned in closer, moving a few stray strands of her hair out of her face, while his acute hearing picked up her faint words.
"Take it all..."
Unable to restrain himself (and not wanting to either) he slipped into her mind with care and ease. What he saw didn't surprise him. She was dreaming about him again. Only he wasn't the eerie man in the shadows. No, he was much, much more than that.
Just as easily as he had entered, he left her mind and then leaned down, inches away from her ear. His face brushed against her golden tresses and he inhaled its scent, lavender and rosemary, like some sort of addict. He was interrupted, however, when she moved bringing him back to the task at hand.
He whispered into her ear, "What is it exactly... you want me to take?"
Her eyes flitted as she began to wake.
"Tell me my dear..."
She opened both eyes, staring up at the ceiling. At first, she believed what she had heard was just a vivid dream, until she felt the cool caress of his breath on her cheek. Slowly, she turned to face him as her heart began to race and he moved to look into her eyes.
"Wha-what do you want?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"You," came his simple answer.
It was the first time she had consciously heard him speak to her and his voice made a chill run up her spine.
"Who are you?" she asked.
He chuckled. "You don't know?"
A slight shake of her head answered him.
"Are you so unsure?" he began, his drawl and words unhurried. "I am the one that stalks you by night... the one that you know everything but nothing about... the one that inspires and fills your stories... the one that you dream of... crave... desire..." he paused to take in the sound of her pounding heart, "Iam CountDracula."
A whimper rose in her throat. All this time, she hadn't thought he could possibly be real, he had always just been fiction...
Although the meeting was not in the manner she dreamt or wrote it to be… no, in was even more enticing, sensual and tempting. And she wasn't quite sure how to respond. He bent his dark head over hers, inches away.
"Don't think..." he said, while staring intently into her brown eyes as if it helped him read her thoughts. "Just feel."
Her lips parted and she inhaled his icy breath, just before his lips fell over hers. Never had she fully been kissed and the things he did to her poor mouth made her mind all but shut off. Little noises escaped her throat but muffled in his mouth.
He pulled away momentarily, letting the mortal gasp for lost air, before delving in again. His tongue begged passage this time and she willingly obliged, sealing her fate in the most sinfully blissful kiss.
To her, everything around them melted away and before she knew it, he had straddled her at the hips. Her insides felt as if they were knotting up and her veins were carrying liquid fire.
He, on the other hand, could feel her body heat rise under him, making him want her more. It had been too long since he had become one with a mortal. After some resistance, and reluctance on his part, he moved away from her pulsating lips.
She sent him an unhappy look but it faded to rapture as he placed fervent and lingering kisses down her neck and collarbone. Soon he was moving down and lavishing her erupting cleavage. He curled a finger under the top of her shirt and pulled it down, leaving her somewhat decent but at the same time exposing some of her luscious female curves. She gasped as his cool lips pressed into her hot, moist skin, the sensation sending chills all over her body.
His long, spidery fingers played with the end of her shirt before slipping his large hands under the fabric, then gliding them across her abdomen. Her back arching inches off the mattress as he did so.
"You're teasing," she stated breathless. He slid his hands back down to her waistband and over her hipbones.
"Are you sure you're ready to give it up? Everything you've ever know? There is no turning back…"
Without any thought or hesitation, she nodded fervently, barely able to herself keep sane.
"Yes, yes... take it all," was her plea.
And in mere hours, he had. First her innocence, then her blood, and finally her. Things would never be the same and there was no turning back.
If you liked it, please drop me a review, they are much appreciated! If you didn't like it, just don't even bother saying anything (no flames whatsoever). Thanks!