Adriana held her victim by his shoulders, her grip firm and unyielding. At first, her victim struggled and squirmed, trying to escape his predator’s steely grasp. Finally, his mind clouded over, all thoughts of flight ceased, his body became limp. Adriana crouched over her victim now, held him for a moment, gazed at his peaceful countenance, then drew him close. She parted her lips and swiftly sank her fangs into his jugular vein.
With her mouth firmly pressed against her victim’s neck, Adriana drew a breath and inhaled the intoxicant that was his blood. Warm fluid spurted from the vein and flowed over Adriana’s tongue, covered it like a liquid blanket, while rivulets ran between her teeth, then coursed toward the back of her mouth and down her throat. Her victim was dying. Adriana was coming alive.
In a minute, for he was nothing more than a snack, it was over. Her victim was drained and lifeless. Adriana withdrew her fangs from the punctures they had made. For a moment, she held her prey in her hands, looking somewhat mournfully at his small, stiff form.
“Sorry little fella, but this is the way it has to be,” Adriana said to him in a barely audible whisper. Then she chucked the squirrel’s body over her shoulder and into the bushes.
Adriana stood up and scanned the Arbor Woods Cemetery for signs of human life. There was no one. She knew it would be empty at this hour of the night but she liked to make sure. It would be hard to explain why a young lady with blood dripping from her lips was lurking about in a graveyard near a pile of dead squirrels and field mice at one in the morning.
It was time to tidy up. Adriana pulled a tissue from her black and pink metallic purse that was resting on a flat black marble headstone. She wiped her lips clean, then retrieved her lipstick. She carefully reapplied the lipstick, which was a color similar to the blood she had just consumed. That done, she returned lipstick and tissue and retrieved a toothpick. "It was good to feast on woodland creatures," she thought, "more humane than transforming some unsuspecting mortal, but I always get a little bit of fur stuck in my teeth, usually in a hard to reach place." Adriana made a mental note to carry floss from now on.
It was a warm summer evening, with stars twinkling in the blue velvet sky and an almost full moon shining down, creating shadow play amongst the tombstones and trees swaying in the breeze. Adriana decided to sit in the grass and enjoy the peacefulness of her surroundings. She was enjoying the small town life here in Arbor Woods, a town much like the one she had grown up in and left years ago. It was much better than the hectic pace of New York City. Everybody was hyper-competitive - for jobs and money and love and sex and blood. The Big Apple was crawling with vampires, just filthy with them, from the Bronx to Broadway. Especially Broadway. It was while auditioning for a musical, in yet another attempt to earn some extra cash, that Adriana had been transformed from a mere mortal who wrote poetry and sometimes sang in unknown rock bands to an immortal blood sucking vampire who wrote poetry and sometimes sang in unknown rock bands. But life, or whatever this was she was leading, had grown stale and it was time for a change. One day Adriana opened a road atlas and her eyes were inexplicably drawn to Arbor Woods. For this, she was thankful. Life seemed easier here.
Adriana was feeling good now, the fresh blood lessening the tension she felt in every cell of her body when she was hungry. Her hunger had been sated and the stress to her spirit eased. She lay down, put her hands under her head for a pillow and stared up at the sky until her eyes slowly began to close and her jaw slackened. The tide of pleasure new blood rendered started as a ripple behind her eyes that flowed to the back of her head, and along the way caressed her brain, tickled it, flooded it with joy. The ripple became a wave, made its way down her neck, massaged her shoulders, floated over her spine, down her legs and made her toes tingle. Completely relaxed, but never more alive, she was at once buoyant and languorous.
Adriana was not in a deep sleep, but not fully awake. She was in vampire twilight, enjoying the effects of a blood high. Feeling safe in the deserted cemetery, she allowed her mind to drift. It traveled to the place it always did: a tropical island beach at sunset, where she sat drinking a rum based concoction with an umbrella in it while watching a naked George Clooney playing a heated game of volleyball with a naked Jimi Hendrix. She sighed, long and loud.
Wait a minute, that wasn’t me sighing, I never sigh in my dreams, she thought. I usually yell, "You’re not playing hard enough Clooney, if you know what I mean.” Her eyes shot open and she strained to become alert. She sniffed at the air, the senses of a vampire being keener than those of an average human, and realized she wasn’t alone with the dead anymore. Normally she could detect human presence from a great distance, but that volleyball dream was so damn distracting.
Adriana sniffed again. A distinct aroma of chocolate and sweat filled her nostrils, mixed with a much less distinct note of onions. She winced at this odd mixture. Lying quietly, she made an effort to focus all her senses to determine who or what was near her.
There was another sigh, followed by a short, low moan.
All right, what the hell is with all racket, Adriana wondered. I come here for peace and quiet and blood, and instead I get some noisy bastard who’s moaning and groaning like his best friend just died. She paused, then thought, I hope that’s not the case, I really don’t want to intrude on someone’s mourning. Growing ever more curious, Adriana sat up and peered into the darkness. The noisy bastard appeared to be a man, less than fifty feet away, sitting on the ground and leaning against a grave marker. There was a bag lying next to him. He reached into it and retrieved a dark object.
Adriana locked her vision onto what this interloper into her land of nod was holding. The object became clear and she didn’t like what she saw.
With her mouth firmly pressed against her victim’s neck, Adriana drew a breath and inhaled the intoxicant that was his blood. Warm fluid spurted from the vein and flowed over Adriana’s tongue, covered it like a liquid blanket, while rivulets ran between her teeth, then coursed toward the back of her mouth and down her throat. Her victim was dying. Adriana was coming alive.
In a minute, for he was nothing more than a snack, it was over. Her victim was drained and lifeless. Adriana withdrew her fangs from the punctures they had made. For a moment, she held her prey in her hands, looking somewhat mournfully at his small, stiff form.
“Sorry little fella, but this is the way it has to be,” Adriana said to him in a barely audible whisper. Then she chucked the squirrel’s body over her shoulder and into the bushes.
Adriana stood up and scanned the Arbor Woods Cemetery for signs of human life. There was no one. She knew it would be empty at this hour of the night but she liked to make sure. It would be hard to explain why a young lady with blood dripping from her lips was lurking about in a graveyard near a pile of dead squirrels and field mice at one in the morning.
It was time to tidy up. Adriana pulled a tissue from her black and pink metallic purse that was resting on a flat black marble headstone. She wiped her lips clean, then retrieved her lipstick. She carefully reapplied the lipstick, which was a color similar to the blood she had just consumed. That done, she returned lipstick and tissue and retrieved a toothpick. "It was good to feast on woodland creatures," she thought, "more humane than transforming some unsuspecting mortal, but I always get a little bit of fur stuck in my teeth, usually in a hard to reach place." Adriana made a mental note to carry floss from now on.
It was a warm summer evening, with stars twinkling in the blue velvet sky and an almost full moon shining down, creating shadow play amongst the tombstones and trees swaying in the breeze. Adriana decided to sit in the grass and enjoy the peacefulness of her surroundings. She was enjoying the small town life here in Arbor Woods, a town much like the one she had grown up in and left years ago. It was much better than the hectic pace of New York City. Everybody was hyper-competitive - for jobs and money and love and sex and blood. The Big Apple was crawling with vampires, just filthy with them, from the Bronx to Broadway. Especially Broadway. It was while auditioning for a musical, in yet another attempt to earn some extra cash, that Adriana had been transformed from a mere mortal who wrote poetry and sometimes sang in unknown rock bands to an immortal blood sucking vampire who wrote poetry and sometimes sang in unknown rock bands. But life, or whatever this was she was leading, had grown stale and it was time for a change. One day Adriana opened a road atlas and her eyes were inexplicably drawn to Arbor Woods. For this, she was thankful. Life seemed easier here.
Adriana was feeling good now, the fresh blood lessening the tension she felt in every cell of her body when she was hungry. Her hunger had been sated and the stress to her spirit eased. She lay down, put her hands under her head for a pillow and stared up at the sky until her eyes slowly began to close and her jaw slackened. The tide of pleasure new blood rendered started as a ripple behind her eyes that flowed to the back of her head, and along the way caressed her brain, tickled it, flooded it with joy. The ripple became a wave, made its way down her neck, massaged her shoulders, floated over her spine, down her legs and made her toes tingle. Completely relaxed, but never more alive, she was at once buoyant and languorous.
Adriana was not in a deep sleep, but not fully awake. She was in vampire twilight, enjoying the effects of a blood high. Feeling safe in the deserted cemetery, she allowed her mind to drift. It traveled to the place it always did: a tropical island beach at sunset, where she sat drinking a rum based concoction with an umbrella in it while watching a naked George Clooney playing a heated game of volleyball with a naked Jimi Hendrix. She sighed, long and loud.
Wait a minute, that wasn’t me sighing, I never sigh in my dreams, she thought. I usually yell, "You’re not playing hard enough Clooney, if you know what I mean.” Her eyes shot open and she strained to become alert. She sniffed at the air, the senses of a vampire being keener than those of an average human, and realized she wasn’t alone with the dead anymore. Normally she could detect human presence from a great distance, but that volleyball dream was so damn distracting.
Adriana sniffed again. A distinct aroma of chocolate and sweat filled her nostrils, mixed with a much less distinct note of onions. She winced at this odd mixture. Lying quietly, she made an effort to focus all her senses to determine who or what was near her.
There was another sigh, followed by a short, low moan.
All right, what the hell is with all racket, Adriana wondered. I come here for peace and quiet and blood, and instead I get some noisy bastard who’s moaning and groaning like his best friend just died. She paused, then thought, I hope that’s not the case, I really don’t want to intrude on someone’s mourning. Growing ever more curious, Adriana sat up and peered into the darkness. The noisy bastard appeared to be a man, less than fifty feet away, sitting on the ground and leaning against a grave marker. There was a bag lying next to him. He reached into it and retrieved a dark object.
Adriana locked her vision onto what this interloper into her land of nod was holding. The object became clear and she didn’t like what she saw.
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