Shadows and dust - Purpose of time: Volume 1

Prologue

The frayed fibres of the cord complied with the will of his fingers. The linen garments sagged, offering space below his waist. He knew this was the pinnacle; the thumping anticipation. Reality had a loathsome tendency to be an unremitting non event.

She sat up on the bed.

He watched her head sway, struggling to come to rest on brittle shoulders. Lacking grace, moving in angular stages. Wide watery eyes twitched under the beam of light.

"Who ... Who are you?" She pawed through the damp air in front of him.

No depth perception.

"Who am I?" she swallowed.

A frail voice.

"You know my name. Everybody does." He moved into the light, casting a stark shadow across the woman's face. A finger pressed her cheek, dragging the skin down from her eye. "As for who you are, well that is still a matter of debate."

He swept lank hair from her face.

She was so pale.

The finger bewitched the girl as it withdrew. She reached out and gripped her own fingers over his wrist.

Clammy skin.

Her hands slide along his forearms and the cutis anserina was pleasing. The wave of piloerection betrayed his caution. On her part, it wasn't instinct. A lone thumbnail traced the path of his ulnar vein, picking it up just under the elbow joint and caressing his skin down to his wrist. She murmured in sync with the growing strength of his pulse.

He swallowed.

With great strength, she pulled him closer. He let her yank his arm straight out in front of him, nodding as she sniffed at his wrist.

She gazed up at him. Those eyes were exceptionally large, but unsatisfactory. The light was wrong.

They flared. Black plum lips curled back, spit dangling between gaping teeth. She unleashed a guttural roar that shook the delicate instruments nestled on the adjacent desk. Elongated nails scored the skin that contained his wrist as her desire grew. Her teeth ripped into his forearm. Chunks of his flesh hit the polished floor. She didn't cease until the vein was exposed. 

His low pressure meant the deep crimson blood leaked satisfyingly out into her mouth.

She paused for breath and let out another roar. Her eyes dull already. A thick, powerful tongue lapped at his arms, its coarseness playing on his nerves.

Enough.

He emptied the contents of the syringe into her neck. She had enough time to lick clean her bloody palm before she fell to the floor and crumbled to pieces.