Vampiric Interdiction

[13] Denaii

The lamented one had a point. What was the hold up? Here he lay beneath her, completely at her mercy, and yet she had done nothing more than scratch the surface; the pain Karolinna caused likely more equivalent to the scrape of a pencil on paper.

“Should’ve known better than to sneak up on a vampire, I suppose,” the strange man let out a slight chuckle and shook a lock of inky-black hair from his face. Though Karolinna’s grip had loosened and he could push her aside like a ogre would a sack of flower, the dark male did not move a muscle.

Scrunching up her face, small wrinkles forming around her nose as she did so and her full upper-lip rising even more to show off her impressively keen fangs, Karolinna adjusted her position atop of the blood-sucker. Boots digging into the ground, leaving mucky prints in the soft earth and flattening the faint layer of green carpeting atop it, she perched herself over him, looking like a lion about to strike.

“Aia. Nama. Vampirr!” she said, wedging the sharp piece of wood further into the flesh to prevent healing. This time there was a sound of torment which couldn’t be helped. Karolinna smiled smugly, and to prove her point, pulled her hood back just enough so that the light was able to catch the intensity of her lustrous purple eyes.

“Well excuse me,” said the shady one, throwing a hand up over his head in surrender, the other still splayed out in the frosty grass. Karolinna’s touch was feather-like and her talons, caked with angry red vitality, had lost most of their temper, pulling back slowly into her fingers.

“Any chance of you letting me up?” the syphoner looked to Karolinna and she could feel his eyes staring right into her; no doubt drinking in her heart-stoppingly spectacular looks. Perhaps that was the reason he hadn’t snapped her in two; although, he would need a working heart to stop for that to be the case. His blazing peepers that once burned hot like liquid magma, didn’t seem so bright anymore, but their heat still did well to rival Karolinna’s quickly rising internal fervour.

“I let you up, and you bury your teeth in my throat? I don’t think so.” A sheet of flaxen cut across her face and in the dimness almost blended against her skin.

“Darlin’, if I wanted to do that, I would have taken full advantage of your remarkably credulous hold long ago,” the vampire noted Karolinna’s hand on his wrist. It rested atop him more tentatively than forcefully. Truth be known, had he wanted to, he could have her in surrendering constraint in seconds.“How’s this?”

His snarl grew wider for a moment and Karolinna instinctively pushed harder on the stake, producing another groan. Instead of tearing into her like a turkey dinner, the dark one slid his fangs back up into his mouth, leaving much shorter but still particularly sharp points in their place.

“Better?”

Karolinna looked cynical, but obliged to the intruder, swinging her leg swiftly over the male’s middle and springing up to her feet. The vampire followed her just as fast, and looked down to his chest and the hole there that closed up expressly. As he walked into the moonlight, Karolinna backed further into the cluster of birch trees she sat before earlier, keeping to the shadows. She made no effort to hide the weapon in her hook, and her teeth remained a warning and bared as her ‘plan B’ of attack.

“Going to put those away, luv? Or are you still set on killing me?” his tone was mocking and it was clear his assumption was she never intended to. Karolinna shrugged, looking quickly to the stake in her hand, switching it to her left, and brushing splinters from the meat of her palm that left small pin-pricks of silver.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she replied, eyeing the male up again, stopping on those captivating, vibrant globes set somewhat deeply in his face and shaded by thick, black brows. In the dead of night, still protected by the silhouette of the leafy, bark-encrusted steeples at Karolinna’s back, the rest of the unpredictable one’s features were still hazy. She was far too busy watching for movement, and admittedly fearing for her life, to put effort into defining his attributes any further.