These Streaks of Blood

1

He edges towards the girl in the darkness and she backs away as quickly as she can, her heart pounding so loud the whole street must be able to hear. All she can hope for is to get to a door, run outside, scream for help. What else can you do, in a situation like this? She can't fight. She knows it, inside, the knowledge seeping into her bones. She will lose if she fights.

She's walking backwards, unable to see where she's stepping. Her foot catches on the corner of a rug, and she stumbles, eyes wide. "No..." he hears her whisper, in a pleading, terrified tone. But it's no use. She falls.

The girl doesn't give up so easily. As the boy continues to stalk towards her, slowly, deliberately, she flips over and begins to crawl, hoping just to make it to the door...

And suddenly, she's off her feet, flying back to where she started. She hits the wall with a sickening crash, feels things break and crack all around her, and inside her. She tastes her own blood dripping down her face, from a spot on her forehead that must have gotten cut.  She slides to the floor in a helpless heap, just managing to hold her head up to keep her gaze on the boy.

"What do you want?" she murmurs. He smiles. Ah, the classic question. Of course, most times, when this is asked, they don't want the honest answer. Why, the honest answer could take hours, days, years to finish explaining. He wants endless things. But of course, humans can't seem to learn how to specify. By her question, 'what do you want', she really wonders, 'why are you in my house in the middle of the night, threatening me, enjoying the sight of the blood you produced dripping down onto my frilly white nightgown...'

He snaps his gaze up to meet hers. His smile widens as he sees that her eyes still hold a gleam of defiance, as if she knows she is about to die, but wants to know that she went down strong.

He chuckles. "Now, now," he says, his voice strangely soft and threatening at the same time. "Don't be like that, Katelyn. Just relax. I'm not going to hurt you." The defiance in the girl's expression begins to dwindle, until she meets his gaze with a blank one of her own.

"That's better," the boy croons, his voice melodic and persuasive. "You want me to be here, Katelyn. You love to be in my company. You're so excited to experience what I have to offer you. Isn't that right?"

Under his sharp gaze, Katelyn nods, her face still empty of emotion.

"You know what I came here for," the boy says, even more softly, "and you will give it to me."

Katelyn's bloodless lips curl up into an eerie smile. Slowly, as if her mind and body are working against each other, her hands rise to push her long brown hair back from her neck, exposing it. The boy draws closer, teeth bared in a beautific white smile.

"Perfect. Now remember, Katelyn, stay very still and silent. Your behavior is how I determine what I do with you next. I only take obedient humans into my service," he says.

Katelyn's eyes flicker with worry. Her soulless eyes turn to the boy and she exclaims in a weak, hushed voice, "But it's all I want, to serve you. That's why this is right. That's why I'm giving myself to you now, so that you know that I will always be loyal."

"But my dear Katelyn... you, like so many others blind to my vision, tried to fight me instead of coming willingly immediately. I will not look past that." The boy licks his lips, and it would be obvious to any onlooker that he was becoming tired of conversation, but Katelyn seems to hang on to his every word as if it may be her lifeline.

"I don't remember fighting you. Why would I ever fight you?" Katelyn wonders, practically to herself, in a tone that assumes that the idea of resisting the boy is a totally alien concept to her. Unthinkable. Unimaginable.

"There is no good reason, you're right. Why resist, when I'm giving you all you've ever wanted?" the boy says, a false smile plastered to his face. It's chilling to the bone, anything but reassuring, but Katelyn beams in response.

"Take it, then. I give myself to you; I am devoted, Master," Katelyn says quietly, breathlessly.

The boy's upper lip curls upward, and Katelyn watches in blank fascination as a row of needle-sharp incisors are revealed. She tilts her head to the side, exposing her pale neck even further, allowing the boy a wonderful view of her bulging veins.

It happens in a flash. One second, the boy is staring at her flesh... the next, he's on top of the girl, pinning her against the wall, his fangs piercing her neck.

At the same moment, Katelyn's eyes light back up, the blankness gone. Understanding dawns in her expression and she instantly thrashes and screams, anything to make the boy stop, to force him off of her... but it's useless. He has an iron grip, and the girl is becoming paler and paler by the second.

After a minute, Katelyn lies silent on the floor, her body cold and so white it almost appears blue. Her eyes are back to their vacant staring. Her face is frozen in an expression of horror.

The boy leans away from her and slowly rises to his feet, a bone-chilling smile finely displaying his fangs.

"You wouldn't have been a worthy servant," he states, looking down upon Katelyn. Then, in a blink of an eye, the boy disappears, leaving the girl just as she is.

Like Katelyn's heartbeat - once so loud and sure that it echoed for the boy to hear from across the room - the once-boisterous neighborhood has become dark and silent as a tomb.