Short Stories

The Beauty of the Beast

She was beautiful. Not just because of her physical appearance, either. Her eyes seemed to speak to me and they pulled me out into the room, towards her. Men flocked around her, but she never looked at anyone else. She seemed so downtrodden, but with beauty like hers, how could she truly be as depressed as she looked. 

The beat of the music and the alcohol in my system gave me the courage to go and speak with her. I walked over and introduced myself. She seemed startled, and as the music changed, I asked her if she would dance, the liquid courage in my belly making me bolder. She shook her head, and continued to just sit, and sip her drink, water, and the bartender gave me a sympathetic look. I simply sat down beside her. I couldn't seem to leave her side, even though she acknowledged no one, much less me. 

After a half hour of just sitting next to her, she stood up and walked towards the door. I followed her, out the door, to her car. She didn't say anything, just opened the passenger door before walking around to the driver's side, leaving the door open, I thought for me. I climbed inside and was pleasantly surprised by the fact that her car was a nice one, and smelled of her. I inhaled deeply, the mere scent of her intoxicating me. 

We said nothing on the ride to her place. I don't know what I was expecting. Was I going to hook up? To talk? To learn about her? I wasn't sure, but I was fascinated with this alluring woman. In an instant, I was imagining a future with her, imagining how I would paint her, photograph her, sing for her, do anything her heart desired; just to have her, and hold her. Briefly, I wondered if I could ever capture her heart. 

I look down at myself, and a rather unimpressive sight greeted me; thick thighs, wide hips, love handles, small breasts, blemishes all over my uncovered shoulders. I was suddenly swept away by a feeling of total inferiority. She was so perfect... I was so... not. There wasn't a blemish on her perfect skin, and it didn't look like she was even wearing makeup. Her short, skin-tight dress revealed shapely legs and a perfect figure. Average breasts, flat stomach, an hourglass figure. Her raven hair was cropped short and styled up in a near-perfect quiff. Her lips were a just-bitten red, and her eyes were stunning, green, just hints of a golden color around the pupil. 

The car pulled up in front of a nice-looking apartment complex. She led me inside, never once touching me or speaking, and for some reason, I was compelled to follow her. We took the elevator to the penthouse suite, and she unlocked her door. We walked inside, and she ushered me into the living room. I gazed around in awe, everything was opulent, and from what I could see, the cost of some of the furniture in this living room would almost be enough to pay my rent for a month. I felt even more inadequate, just looking around her living room. 

Suddenly she was directly in front of me, peering at me. I imagined her drinking in all of my flaws and imperfections. I could see her throwing me out because I had looked better in the dim lighting of the club. Because I wasn't like her; because I wasn't perfect. 

Suddenly her assessing gaze snapped from me to something behind me. I didn't even have time to ask what the matter was before she had grabbed my arms and pulled me behind her. She was staring at a shadowy figure, lurking near the door to a hallway. 

Suddenly the figure disintegrated, and the woman swayed on her feet. I grabbed her and laid her down on the couch. I suddenly realized how cold she was. 

"Are you okay?" I asked, gently. 

She nodded and pulled me close. We embraced for some time, and when she didn't let go, I climbed onto the couch next to her. Suddenly, her grip tightened, and she forced my head to the side, before clamping her teeth down into the junction between my neck and my shoulder. I cried out, her teeth were extraordinarily long and sharp. Gradually, a syrupy feeling slid into my veins and my body relaxed. My eyes closed, and I finally got to hear the angel's voice.

"You're mine now, little one."

It was a fine last music to my ears as I drifted into the abyss. 

I woke up to find her sitting by my side with breakfast ready. She was smiling, and I finally noticed why she didn't want to talk. She was a vampire, her snowy skin and long, pointy eyeteeth revealed what she had wanted to hide last night. 

I never knew something so corrupted could be so alluring. I ate, and we talked. As we did so, I think in the moment, we were just two vampires in love.