Stake You

Prologue

Prologue

She struggles a little as she weakens, as the life flows away from her, as he consumes her entirely. One last ditch grasp at survival. That time has long passed. He couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to.

The blood isn’t the best part anymore. It’s a means to an end. A way to taste his addiction one more time. Fear, pain, terror—it can be a powerful seasoning. Her tainted memories are as sweet as his decaying recollection of honey on his tongue. Sweet, but not intoxicating. Not the best he’s ever had.

He didn’t take enough time when he chose her, he realises too late. His evolving desires beat his control again. Not enough time did he take to savour the pain and hurt inside her. Not nearly long enough to provoke those traumatic memories of the past that would transform her mental anguish to nectar as he took her to the next life. It’s taking more of an effort to satisfy him now. More of an effort to quell the urges as the years go on.

But that beautiful look of betrayal on her face remains vibrant and complete until the light in her eyes dies. She thought he loved her, thought his saccharine words to be true. She believed everything he made her believe, and she never saw what he really was, not until the very end. Not until he allowed her to remember the things she had done under his control. Not until he forced her to accept the truth. But by then it was far too late for her to escape. By then her painful memories had been so overwhelming, she had longed for death to free her.

And that makes her demise all the more delicious.

Some have lust; he has the power of a lie. He’s one who enjoys the dark patches on their souls. The sins begotten; the stains on their innocence. He swims in their mental agony before the ultimate torture begins.

The truth of immortality had weighed heavily upon his shoulders before he found his calling. Now his eternal youth simplifies his passion, makes it easier to prey on unsuspecting young girls. Weak ones. Vulnerable ones. They’re all his for the taking.

But now he’s ended a life, it is time to move on. He’s used to moving, used to picking the right mark. She is that lone, perfectly-broken girl who will fulfil his needs, quench his cravings and desires. At least for a time.

The newest forms of popular media have made it oh, so easy for him to fit in as an enigmatic teenage boy. He’s the oldest thing he knows, apart from the she-devil who created him. And she appeared younger than he. Coy, she had been, before she revealed the truth of her monstrousness. Shy, she had been, before she sank her fangs into his flesh and tore his life away. And the kind, innocent boy he had once been was lost forever to the hunger.

But those days are long gone, and he’s forgotten the things that once made him human. Now he is a far worse monster than his bloodthirsty creator, although he sees her in every life he takes. She would be proud if she wasn’t so terrified of him.

With a weary sigh, he acknowledges that this particular mark hasn’t been enough to satisfy him, but he’ll be sure to make the most of the next one. The next one he’ll torment until her pain is almost too much for him to bear. The next one will be perfection.