Death Becomes Us

Part 6: Bloodstream

You hadn't realized you'd drifted off to sleep on the sofa in front of an episode of The Twilight Zone until a knock at the door made your adrenaline race into action. It was a dark, moonless night, and the only illumination in your trailer was from the television, a string of tiny pumpkin lights along the window, and a flickering candle on the counter in the kitchen.

The time on the VCR said 11:46 and you got to your feet with caution, figuring it had to be a vampire at the door—you just weren't sure which one.

"It's me. Eddie," his voice was a mumble out on the porch.

The sound made your heart stutter.

"What do you want?" You asked, pausing with your hand on the doorknob so you could look out the peephole. He was standing back a ways, hands in his pockets, elbows out, and a black shirt unbuttoned down his chest. He looked particularly dressed up, as if he'd been hustling the unsuspecting wealthy widows down at the country club.

You watched him smirk at your question. "Can't a neighbor come by and say hi? I saw your TV was on."

You gave a quick glance down at what you were wearing, making sure you were decent, but also to make sure you didn't have crumbs all over you from the dry cereal you were eating earlier.

"I haven't seen you around all week," you got flustered after you said it, not wanting it to sound like you were waiting around for him and counting the minutes.

"Yeah," he gave his lips a generous lick, wetting them until they were shiny. "You realized I was gone? Does that mean you missed me?."

There was no formal understanding or commitment between the two of you, but also, there was something unspoken that compelled you to worry about him when you didn't see the whites of his eyes for a few days.

You opened the door and inclined your head, motioning for him to come in, and moved back so he could step in off the porch. You'd already invited him in once, and unless you rescinded that invite, he could technically come in whenever he wanted.

He waltzed in like he owned the place, picking up small things as he went to inspect them, looking around as if trying to catch you in the act of doing something. You were just about to offer him some of the NuBlood you had in your cabinet in the event of a vampire guest when he stopped abruptly and took a long, violent inhale, and held the breath in his puffed out chest.

His eyes narrowed on you and began to darken. He sniffed the air again, and then his eyelids fluttered a bit as if he'd caught a whiff of heaven. The tip of his tongue shot out from between his ejected fangs.

"It's that time of the month huh?" He asked it very casually, like a doctor might, and at first you wondered what he was referring to, but then you felt a sudden wetness in your underwear and a pang from your uterus.

"You can smell it?" You asked, stepping away. "I didn't even realize that I—"

"You just started," he told you in the same matter-of-fact way, turning on his heel. He walked over to the vanilla sugar candle, hoping it would mask the scent so that his cock wouldn't come to attention right there in your trailer because his mouth was already watering. "Maybe I should come back another time," he gripped the side of the counter so hard, he almost broke a piece of it off.

"Um, it's okay, just, well, give me a second to—" you were about to walk by him on the way to the bathroom when his arm shot out as a barrier, catching you at your chest.

"No, stay," he whispered. When your eyes met, you wondered if he was using that glamouring technique on you to make you do whatever he wanted, but then you remembered that you were impervious to vampire powers.