The Midnight Within

Chapter 1

       WARRING!  THIS BOOK CONTAINS GRAPHIC AND SEXUAL CONTENT.  IF YOU CANT HANDLE THAT THEN DON'T READ IT.  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

October 8th

Stepping from the house, Amy shivered against the cold night air. She should have grabbed her coat, but she only wanted a few puffs off her cigarette and a few minutes away from the lights and noise of the party still raging behind the closed door. She began to shiver as she dropped her smoke, stepping on it with one spiked heel and bent down to blow out the candle-lit pumpkins at her feet. If it wasn't so cold out she would have gone for a walk to clear her head and try to forget about the drama of her life.

The wind picked up, swirling dead leaves around her feet and rattled the branches of the bare trees above her head. It was the perfect night for a Halloween party even if it wasn't yet Halloween. It was the one night she thought she could forget her problems, becoming someone else, someone not so average even, for just one night.

Going back inside, Amy fought the tears that wanted to roll down her cold red cheeks. The sounds of music and laughter spilled from the other room, invading the small kitchen and making her want to march into the other room and turn off the stereo and kick everyone out. She reached for the bottle of whisky she had left on the counter instead and dropped down on one of the mismatched stools they had gotten from clean up days.

She was supposed to be having fun, dancing and flirting with her friends. Yet here she was alone in the dark, nursing a bottle of Jack and wishing she could be anywhere but here. No one came to check on her or asked if she needed another drink, not that she needed any more liquor. She never did understand how some of her friends could drink, throw up and continue to drink. Once she hit the wall all she wanted was to eat carbs and pass out. She hated the feeling of the room spinning and hated the s up even more.

Even more iserable she sat with the bottle nestled between her fabric - covered legs and let the tears roll down her face. She ate the last of the king cake, washing it down with the Jack Daniels and wishing she was anywhere but this miserable podunk town.

Outside the window the full orange moon was bright behind the black skeletal trees. Lifting the bottle she wet her lips, watching helplessly as a bright swath of pink fabric and a smear of bright red lipstick on a pale round face danced into her view through the brightly lit square of the doorway. Didn't they know she was there? Did they even care? A hot spike of anger rose up, tightening her chest. The couple falls heavily against the wall, kissing and groping with urgent need and fresh tears wet Amy's cheeks, tracking her cheap makeup and staining the fabric of her renaissance style gown. Why had she been stupid enough her crush to the party in the first place when she knew very well that her so called friend would make a move on him?

She had known what would happen and let it, watching in helpless disgust as they grouped each other without care. Amy hated them for what they were doing to her yet hated herself more for caring so much. Her mind raced: Not for the first time did her thoughts turn to the razor she kept hidden in her bedroom. How easy would it be to take the rest of her pills, drain the bottle and slit her wrists? The party would rage on and then perhaps she could find the peace she was so desperately craving.

~They wouldn't laugh at her then, would they?~

She was so lost in her own little fantasy she never noticed the stranger who had joined her in the dark kitchen until there was the strike of a single match, a momentary glimpse of a sharp-boned shadowy face, half hidden by long black hair and snowy white hands that toyed with the scattering of table decorations. When she went to stand the room seemed to tilt, the floor sliding away from her, bringing her back down into her chair and drawing a short laugh from her dry lips. Had she really drunk so much? And who the hell was this asshole in her kitchen?Shadow man smiled slowly, tilting his head and fixing her with an amber-eyed stare, It was the kind of look you saw every afternoon on TV, just before they cut to the commercial and it made her want to giggle.

"Why does beauty hide herself in darkness?" He asked with a twitch of his almost too perfect lips. His voice had sent an instant hot ache straight into her groin and reddening her cheeks as she tried to stand once again on weak legs.

" Oh god you scared me? Did Cat put you up to this?" Laughing through her tears and swiping at her wet cheeks she squinted at him to get a better look. She should probably join the others but she was trying to figure out if she knew him or not. She would feel pretty foolish if he was someone she should know.

"You definitely don't want to go in there." Shadow man chuckled as he flashed her a hungry heart-wrenching smile, his gaze following Amy's to the brightly lit doorway. "It's not going to be pretty. " His voice held the slightest hint of sadness as he dropped his clove into the punch.

" What does that mean?" Before she could move he was in front of her, trapping her between the counter and his well-muscled body.

"I want to help you; I'm here to set you free." His cold fingers brushed gently across her wet cheeks as he locked eyes with her. " I'm the monster that lives in your dreams. The monster who will love you to death. "One strong arm slid around her waist, pulling her hard, into his obvious need. " It's your pain and their ignorance that drew us to you, it was like a beacon calling us home." His hands moved slowly over the curves of her body, his silken lips brushing the corner of her mouth as the first hard beats of "Closer" cut through the air and the first pain filled screams rose up in crescendo.

"It has begun." He purred into her ear. "Do you still wish to join them?"

" Please stop." Amy felt faint, her heart pounding like a big base drum as dark brackish blood splattered the bright yellow wall just beyond the doorway. She couldn't take her eyes off the pale round face or the blood that was now spreading into a pool from the gaping wound in the girl's neck. Was someone really killing her friends? Or was it just a sick joke. A very real looking, sick joke.

" No joke my love, now let me taste you." He breath in her ear was hot, his voice husky with hunger. Before she could protest, he scooped her up effortlessly, drawing her gaze from the carnage back to his handsome face. Oh how she wanted to drown in that gaze, wanted to feel the caress of his strong hands against her heated skin. It was all she could think about as he carried out of the kitchen and up the stairs knowing exactly what room to go to he kicked the door shut behind them.

Long after the screams died away and the house fell eerily silent, Black stood at the window with his back to the room and the dead girls empty gaze. The urge to head North was still gnawing at him. He wanted to see trees and deep green forests, not the endless empty rows of corn and brown fields. No, Going North would wait. Their next job could wait. They had a few other parties to crash first. He glanced at the girl on the bed, feeling let down. He craved a challenge, but like most of his victims she had only given him an empty willingness to please. Was he getting too old for this? Or did women today really want nothing more than a dark hero to come in and sweep them off their feet. Where was the challenge in that? If he could glitter in sunlight he would not have to hunt, he could just sit back and let them come to him.

" Why do you mourn an empty vessel?" Shatter closed a black nailed hand over Black's shoulder. Behind them the first flickers of orange and yellow began to dance against the wall as the acrid smell of smoke and burnt flesh began to fill the small house.

"Didn't she find comfort in your arms?" This from Shatter's twin, who stood in the doorway.

" To mourn I would have to feel and I have not felt anything but hunger in decades." He let out another amused chuckle as he pushed past the twins and led them back down the stairs.

Casually they walked though the litter of mangled bodies and trash. Stopping at the broken front door, Black bent down to retrieve a single string of Mardi Gras beads. Yet another trinket for the growing pile. His thoughts once again turning to Jackson, seething behind his huge desk for sure. Well it didn't matter, they never played by the rules, Jack should've known that by now. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his cloves, lit a match and inhaled deeply before letting the burning match drop down onto the gas- soaked floor.

Sated and ready for new adventure, never feeling more alive than they did at that moment, the trio of vampires emerged from the burning house. With arms around shoulders and matching sharp toothed grins they stumbled over the leaf-covered lawn in the pre dawn light to the waiting van. For them life was good, there would always be another lost soul, in another town, at another party, waiting for them to arrive.