Ravenous

  I warned them, each name blotted out on this sheet of paper; each name added to the book of life. I told them each that I would be the last woman they would break their vows with. But, my prey couldn't see past exotic, almond shaped eyes, coffee colored skin and my taut coke-bottle shaped frame to heed the warning in my raspy voice. I wasn't given this assignment it choose me, after my adoptive parents marriage was destroyed by my father's infidelities.
I do not know my history, my adoption file is closed. I do know that right around the time I reached puberty that along with powerful sexual urges, an otherworldly desire emerged; the insatiable hunger for human flesh. I told no-one ;I didn't admit it even to myself. Instead, I focused on my new found "powers". I devolped uncanny speed, strength and coordination. I emersed myself in sports and fitness competitions all the way through my senior year of college. Then, my mother abrutly filed for divorce after all of their children had obtained a degree and Dad had become engulfed in his latest affair.
When Brock rang my doorbell I felt the twinge of regret I always felt just before my senses peaked and I smelt the heat of his blood and heard the sound of his rapidly beating heart. He was nervous. Was this his first time cheating on his wife or was this just like any other first date to him? Upon my approach to the door I could smell the faint scent of her floral perfume and the musk of her womanhood even after he had bathed. Had he just made love to his wife and now was concerned about performing for me? My empathy was instantly replaced with animistic rage, here he was at my door surely to complain if being sexually deprived when he was actually depraved. It wasn't my policy to murder in coldblood so he would have to instigate this encounter for me to snuff out the flame of his tortured life.
I opened the door with a warm smile and simply stepped aside. He walked in with a confidence not portraying the discomfort his heart rate indicated. Dressed comfortably, so as not to tempt, I wore a T-shirt and losse fitted boyfriend jeans and ballerina slippers. He walked over to my bar and poured himself a double and took it to the head. I remained distant, he called and asked to come over, so he would open the floor for conversation.
"I really want my marriage to work," he sighed as a faux contrite look crossed his handsome face.
I wondered if my father bothered with such foolery. "What's stopping it from working? " I asked honestly wanting an answer.
"I am a grown ass man," he stated forcefully walking toward me, I stood my ground, "and I have needs."
He took another double down in one gulp.
"And, your wife doesn't meet those needs?" I questioned.
"I wouldn't be here if she did, " he leaned casually against the doorjam just in front of me and smiled sadly. His heartbeat slowed maybe it was the liquor or he had grown comfortable in his lie. " It's been months." he practically whispered.
"Oh," I replied simply.
Without warning he wrapped his arms around me, it felt desparate like the grasp of a drowning man. Had I been a normal woman, I would have believed that he was just a man. A man, tethered to a commitment that became weak and fell into my arms, my bed. Instead, I was infuriated by the scent of the woman that loved him. She wouldn't have that problem for long.
He engulfed me in a passionate kiss. I returned it in a lackluster manner, he was not deterred. His hand snaked up my shirt and cuffing my breast. He expertly removed my bra with one hand and my shirt with the other. A moan escaped when his mouth found my nipple. Quickly and smoothly he slipped my panties and jeans off in one motion lifting me by the waist to clear me of my slippers too. He lifted me and I oblidged by wrapping my legs around his chiseled waist.
"If you enter me, this will be your last time breaking her heart." I said looking into his eyes.
Wordlessly, roughly he pushed into me. As always I felt a bit of shock and sadness. Silently, Desiree disappeared and the unamed beast appeared. Enjoying the pain-filled pleasure of his stroke. And upon his climax as he reached a first death he met his final. I tossed my head back and finished in unison with him. At that precise moment I became filled with disgust; with superhuman strength I blackslapped him. He flew off of me, semiconscious. In one move I am up off of the bed and straddling him above the chair he was slumped on. Fear flashes across his face, I reach into his chest and withdraw my hand and his heart.
I lie across my bed, dang it's comfortable. I grab my pen and list out of my nightstand, take a bite out of his minerally, unfaithful heart and mark his name off the list.