Hellfire

Interval Ten

Lucius floundered in white heat and hot blood, drowning in Susan and unable to stop. He knew he needed to be more in control. The lines of his feeds had already been blurred enough, but there was only so much he could do against her. The moment she begged him to temper her, to devour her, all control had vanished, giving way to selfishness and lust and hunger and relief. He needed her. She's been dead for days, empty of life, but now, here she was, arguing with him, her mind a pyre of emotions that was destroying her body, her femininity and beauty glowing it him.

He only intended to feed from her, just enough to sate himself and confirm she really was herself again, and fill her with enough venom that her fire would steer away from the rage and destructive nature.

But Lucius couldn't control himself. Not this time. Not when he'd been so close to losing her because she chose to take herself from him and needing nothing more than her touch and body responding like it once did. Not when she bore her mind to him, letting him see how bright her attraction was; hot, tangling thoughts that burned with need. After seeing nothing but ash for two days, it was enamouring. He lost control. All he wanted was her. His witch.

So, Lucius devoured her as she begged him to, like he'd been aching to, haunted by dreams and dark fantasies. His sex burned as she claimed him, her fingers exploring him possessively, her mouth hot against his, her body melting him with her curves and softness. Too long he'd held back. Too long he'd prevented himself from drowning in her. Not anymore.

But he forgot why as the monster in him began to claw free, slipping in his blood and flooding his instincts. He didn't care how his skin burned against hers as fire ripped her apart, leaving behind blackened strokes. He forgot Susan was human. A witch. Her blood something he'd drown himself, draining every drop.

Turning him into a monster. Something ravenous and unstoppable.

He couldn't think anymore. He was gone. All he wanted was that blood. More and more of it. It was searing in the pit of his stomach, scarping at his teeth and jaw with aching savagery. This wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. His mouth needed to be full of her.

So he bit down harder, and harder, drinking with ferocious greed that didn't sate him. He wanted her. His sex ached so fiercely it hurt him. His teeth grew thicker and thicker. His fingers splitting into blood-claws as this obsession need grew mountainous. He had to have more of her. So much more.

Then he felt her pulse fail to swell against his teeth.

The man in Lucius floundered, pulling himself to the surface as concern broke through his devastating hunger. He forced himself to rip his teeth free and end the drowning taste of her, breathing heavily as he slowly took in Susan.

He couldn't quite see her. Not at first. He saw her body, all feminine and powerful, curves complimenting the lithe muscle, her breasts budded invitingly. Then he saw her face; her lashes touching her cheek and lips parted softly, swollen and slightly bloodied from his kiss. Everything he never knew he wanted with hot, scraping possession. Susan was this. Every inch of her.

Then he registered the blood, raw red against the paleness of her. At first, the sight excited him, heat slipping into his sex as his teeth began to ache again, his tongue desperate to wallow in her. The desire to nudge her and offer his throat grew. He needed to tend to her. He'd been too selfish not to offer.

And then he began to register just how much there was. Rivers of it clinging to her skin, making her once healthy skin grey. He saw her face, grey and slack, her throat open, her chest moving shallowly, her heart beat slowing.

Until it stopped.

Abruptly, reality hit with a merciless snap. The hunger clawing at him took on a different tone as he registered it for what it truly was. Obsessive, dangerous, fatal; not the sexual desire he lead himself to believe. Hunger was in his belly. Hunger for more, his teeth craving every bit of her her hot flesh and blood. Susan was beneath him, her body torn over by her flames, and her throat bleeding heavily, ripped from his teeth. Her heart echoed in his ears. Failing. Dying.