Not All Is What It Seems

Different But Delicious

POV: Dragomir

My oh my, how females have changed. The honeys in this place are just MmMm fine! If I had caught word of these lovely specimens, I would have left New Orleans at least 20 years earlier.

Now, I wasn't too sure about this little town. Texas is the only place ballsy enough to have it's own toast. Since I got this job, I do understand why they stamp the state on the food. These girls are absolutely appetizing looking.

They give me lunch duty all the fucking time. I should be in the choir room arguing about keys and where to put the cutoffs. The director is as incompetent as most of the students he teaches. Yet, they give me window shopping time. If only they knew what a poor decision that is. Taking away value time to make the most formidable choir seen since the 1800s. Only question left is who's gonna be the lucky cunt I eat today?

As I make my way to the cafeteria, along the walls are display cases, holding the scadly dressed to the Pentecostal. I note one girl in a very overly ripped pair of acid wash jeans talking to black boy wearing a long red plaid scarf and a gray half trench coat.

The ample dark chocolate skin revealed, is ashy and crying out for some lotion. Her DD's in a push up and tank distract even the best of us from it.

She's in the Junior Varsity choir. Which is fine considering only thing she really participates in, is the communal gossip. Her voice is also similar to that of a dying cat.

As I pass her, all the attention the poor french accented sap had over her is now completely owned by yours truly. He notices this too. I can't resist so I wink at her.

"Good day, Miss Smith", I say as smoothly as warm butter.  Frenchy looks ready to kill me now. Never gets old messing with teenagers. Yes, the teacher stole your girl, my European sap.

More honeys past, as I reach the pit. I wink to them as well. Giggles and pheromones release behind me. Some pure and delicious, other's not at all. Then a scent disrupts the appetite I had moments before been nurturing.

Sitting still as stone are three very out of place... women? No not women, girls... yet only girls purely by body. Not carrying the same smells like the rest of the young female population. I find myself being pushed towards the middle of the cafeteria, craving- no starving- for a closer look.

Something pushes against me causing a momentary detraction. "Jeez sorry man, didn't see you there!" A smiling boy in red basket shorts hops off the floor and wips dust off and goes back to his band of delinquents without another glance, ignorant asshole.

I look back to find a pair blue eyes studying me from under a curtain of red bangs. The tension radiating from her is closer to that of a bomb going off. Or maybe is coming from the little skinny one in fornt of her. Or both? Oh my, this is very new.

I decide to go to the patio. If not to get a closer look at the atomic redhead, then to get the hell away from her. They tell stories of her type.

"Prey that kills..."

"Never trust the one's who's eyes never flinch in your presence..."

Close enough to make out features, I make the unfortunate discovery of how plain looking she is. Yet at the same time, how striking she is. A body hidden in baggy clothes that would really be more suited for a guy. Small red lips- almost too small- that form a perfect heart. Pasty white skin. Masses of frizzy red hair that gleam in the light. Her eyes, that is the part where the innocent stoner girl look dies. She holds death in the blue pools.

Her companions don't share her outlandish appearance thankfully. The girl across from her, full lipped and giving a warm smile to a boy talking to her. Her clothes just tight enough to show a prefect hourglass. The one next to the redhead, I can't really see for the wavy black locks that she's almost sitting on. Only she is small, very small.

The tension gets more intense as I near the doors leading outside. The redhead also stiffens, watching me, ready to pounce. One would think she would relax as the radius between us increases. I've manage to strike a nerve. I smile at this. Oh this is gonna be fun. There's something out there, she doesn't want me near.

The door doesn't open when I pull on it. Yeah, there's definitely some sort of territory I'm imposing on. I turn around to face her and raise my hands palms open to her, to show no bad intentions.

Her face doesn't change but I see a wrist twist. I turn around again and find the door opens. Explains why she doesn't smell like the rest of her generation.

Witches aren't like anything else. They're like LeClaire's but without the filling. Very much surprising when you bite into them.

Another wave of energy hits me when I get on the patio. What the hell? It's not witch, but sure does feel a lot like the one thats inside. I spot a boy sitting at a metal picnic table in the sunlight. He's energy is much like a caged wolf with a faulty lock.

Windy is perched on his lap. She see's me and squeals summoning me over. "Oh Mr. Dragomir! What brings you out here? Oh have you met the love of my life here?" She snuggles closer to the wolf who holds a secret look only us men understand.

Please by all mercies get this crazy bitch off me, the look tells me.

"Oh no I don't believe I have, Windy. I wouldn't have thought this one-" That belongs to the witch, would be with you and not with her who obviously his other half. By scent at least.

Of course I don't say that. It rather rides up my ass though, seeing proper mates apart. I lost my Vivian to a noble. He hung her for not loving him. I ate him afterwards. Wonder if the witch will do the same to this poor tart.

"Oh Kyle and I've been together since last year. Even before that we've always wanted to date. Only sometimes other people get in the way." Her eyes get dark at the last sentence. The table gets quiet not daring to add to her statement.

What in the sand hill? I stepped into something here. I look at Kyle's hands to find the fingers undeniably calloused from strumming. Before I can stop myself, I open up a conversation between a fellow musician.

There I stand, bonding with a witch's mate under hot the Texas sun. Windy wears annoyance, realizing all the attention is taken away from her. Kyle doesn't notice, nor does the rest of table. He's too excited and happy to find someone who relates to him. The table engrossed, eager for what advice will pass between me and the boy's lips.

I see why the witch and the harlot are after him. Pretty and smart. Hell the boy might make me lean the other way. I can tell he knows what he's talking about, not many boys his age do.

The bells that means lunch is done rings too soon. He gets up and we shake hands. "You should come to guitar club sometime, show the kids what real playing is like" I finish off.

"Haha, nah, I'm good."

I head to the door that leads to the band hall, only turning around once to see Windy hanging off his arm as if it's a leash.

When in the choir room, there is the witch, this time radiating a friendly light. Talking to Kassady. My oh my, my oh my, life certainly has gotten more interesting. Why didn't I leave New Orleans quicker?