Vampire "Untitled" (Vampire "Untitled" Trilogy Book 1) (27 page)

“I was thinking,” Ildico continued, “perhaps I can
prepare us something to eat here. I can cook something nice and we can eat
together here. If you would like?”

“I have nothing to cook with.”

“This is fine, I can go and bring the food, if you
would like?”

Ildico’s attempts to find light in the present
situation were commendable. She would make a fine wife, Paul thought. He moved
to her and gripped her shoulders firmly with both hands. She was still looking
away, nervously avoiding his gaze. Paul pulled her close and tilted her head
towards him to kiss her. He pressed firmly, pushing his lips onto hers. She
felt stiff and frightened, repulsed but not repelling. The scab on his lip
broke. Ildico kissed back mildly whilst holding her hands to the side as though
she didn’t know what to do with them.

Paul broke off the kiss to stare into her eyes. He
knew he looked fierce, powerful, masculine. Perhaps that was why Ildico was
trembling and trepidations. “I would like that,” Paul said responding to her
question about food. “It would mean everything to me.” He said it as sincerely
as he could, in as reassuring a way as he could. “I’m sorry for everything that
has happened, I don’t want you to be afraid.”

Paul knew that very soon he was going to fuck Ildico,
whether she wanted it or not; but he didn’t want her to be scared of him. He
wanted her coming to him, not to be chasing her.

“Then I will go and get food,” Ildico said.

Paul was suddenly paranoid that she would leave and
not return, that her offer to go and get food was a simple ruse to leave and
not come back. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. A sudden rush of adrenalin
hit him along with a passionate urge to throw her to the bed behind him right
now. The sudden lust was tempered only by a nagging conscience or fragment of
logic that was harping away about not hurting her, or something like that.

“Are you just going to get food? Then coming back?”

“Yes.”

Paul smiled at her, it felt a little fake and he
wasn’t sure he was doing it right. He motioned her out of the bedroom and
towards the front door. “Here,” he said taking his wallet from his coat pocket
hung on the back of the front door. “Take this.” He handed over way too much
money. As Ildico was about to protest he also handed her the door keys. “Use
this to buy any food or wine you want and bring back the change. And you can
let yourself back in with this key.”

Ildico wobbled for a moment staring at what was
probably a week’s wages in her hand.

“Can you get dessert too? Ice-cream or cake or
something? Can you get things so we can have a really big lovely meal together.
I would like that more than anything.”

“Yes, I...” she sounded uncertain, then she said,
“Yes, Yes I can.” Far more definitively. Paul could see from her expression
that she meant it. One of Ildico’s lovely qualities was she wore her heart on
her sleeve. There were no pretensions, no lies or mixed signals. She was coming
back and when she did he would have her cook for him then pleasure him. He
could tell by the way she smiled at him as she backed out of the door that she
was going to taste wonderful.

----- X -----

Paul
had moved to the bathroom to cool down. The kitchen felt stiflingly warm and
humid from the drying clothes. The bathroom was probably the coldest room
having tiled walls and no heating. He rested his naked back against the tiles
and closed his eyes.

He visualised the scene in the forest from earlier. He
saw in a repeating loop as Big Man Raul pulled the balisong knife and flashed
it back and forth in a display. In his imagination Raul didn’t run or push Boy
ahead of him, instead Paul walked right up to him, took the knife and used it
to eviscerate him. It was a lightning fast move that saw Raul’s intestines fall
into the snow from the sliced wound. Paul saw himself disable Big Man with the
knife four or five times in succession and each time he became more skilled at
the disarming and killing.

“This is what a vampire is,” Paul said to himself.
“Enjoyment.”

There could be nothing sweeter than the overwhelming
destruction of bullies or those that hurt him. It was the enjoyment at knowing
anyone who had ever hurt him could be snuffed in the blink of an eye. Even the
slightest emotional pain could be eradicated by unleashing the vampire.

Kill those people.

Just kill them.

Easily.

Sparked from nowhere in particular, Paul recalled
being eight years old on a rainy, Autumn walk to school. Bullies were taunting
him. It was a real event that, although he could see their faces, it was so
distant and of such little consequence that he couldn’t remember their names or
what the taunts were about. But in the recollection he was killing them with a
samurai sword. Blood running amongst the puddles and wet brown leaves on the
pavement. Those kids could run, but they would never be able to run as fast as
he could. He recalled speaking with a girl once in a nightclub who gave him the
cold shoulder. He was having to raise his voice against the thumping music,
half blinded by magenta and green lights flashing from the dance floor. He was
saying something amusing in the girl’s ear to which she just walked away
mid-sentence. It was the most undignified rejection he could recall. She would
die screaming, he would strip her naked and peel the skin from her tits with a
razor blade whilst she screamed for mercy. Enjoyment, all of it enjoyment. They
were only people, whereas he was now becoming so much more.

As he leaned against the wall, he opened his eyes to
look in the mirror. As before, he didn’t feel as though he was looking at his
reflection, rather he felt he was inside the mirror looking out. He didn’t see
his usual physical body, instead he saw himself as the marble skinned killer.
He stepped away from the wall to examine his eyes more closely in reflection.
Gorgeous ruby red eyes; no pupil or iris, just a ball of ruby red glass to
contrast against his impeccable white skin.

This is what I am, Paul thought. It is just part of my
mind that has been made solid, made flesh. It isn’t some demonic possession;
rather it is a manifestation of what was already inside. It was the killer, the
soldier, the warrior. It was the dark side of my male psyche. All men have a
capacity for violence, but the largest majority of men keep it suppressed by
rational thought, by manners, by social conventions, by the rule of law. All
men have it but few are lucky enough to have it supersede all other
considerations.

When Ildico returns we shall enjoy her.

----- X -----

The
door latch fumbled with the jangling sound of keys. Paul stepped from the
bathroom to watch the door open. She’d been gone for almost thirty minutes.
Paul was still only wearing shorts.

“Oh,” she looked away but was unable to hide a nervous
smile. “You’re not putting on clothes?”

“They have blood on them,” he said. In the time she
had been away his voice seemed to have lowered another half octave. Ildico
moved to the kitchen looking a little embarrassed and placed a shopping bag on
the counter from which she began unloading provisions. It looked like cabbages
and what appeared to be strips of pork.

“I am make a traditional Romanian food,” she said as
she unpacked the bag. She looked up at Paul hovering in the doorway to the
kitchen. He saw her eyes move over him. She looked down to his crotch and
paused for a second. She must have been looking at the outline of his penis in
the cotton shorts because one second later she snapped back to the food and her
face turned bright red.

Paul stepped into the kitchen and was moving to kiss
her when she turned her back and felt some of the clothes that were hanging.
“These are almost dry now,” she said. It looked like she had tried to change
the conversation to cover her embarrassment.

Paul gripped her elbow and turned her back towards
him. As she rotated he saw that she was trembling. She was breathing in shallow
little gasps and her skin was flushed. Paul wrapped an arm around her slender
waist and pulled her into a slow tightening of their bodies. His free hand slid
up her side and across her shoulder to cradle the back of her head. He pulled
her towards him to kiss. For a moment she resisted, lifting her hands and
putting them ahead of her as a barrier, her palms on his chest to push him
away, but it was only a gesture.

Paul kissed her deeply, feeling her bending backwards
as though to get away. He opened his eyes to see that her eyes were wide open,
staring at him like a deer in the headlights. She wasn’t kissing him either, he
was doing the kissing, she was just stood frozen.

The instant he broke the kiss she tried to turn to the
kitchen counter. “I need to make the food,” she said. Paul turned her back and
kissed her harder, his fingers eased into her hair and he carefully but firmly
made a fist to hold her.

The kissing was wrong; he was kissing her, she wasn’t
kissing him. He turned their bodies so her back was to the kitchen counter and
pressed her to it with his crotch. He tried kissing her again, still holding
her hair with his right hand, but now that he no longer needed his left hand to
encircle her waist he pulled it around and popped open the top button of her
jeans with the easiest of moves. Ildico flinched, broke the kiss and both hands
darted down to grab at her clothes.

She was trying to say something, struggling for words,
making little gasps. The poor thing, she look terrified.

Paul took hold of her wrists and lifted her hands. He
hadn’t meant to be rough or to hurt her, but there was a flash of pain across
her face and he realised he had squeezed her wrists far too tightly. He didn’t
want that, he didn’t want to hurt Ildico. He would never hurt Ildico.

“Put your hands behind your head,” he said as he
positioned them for her.

“No... wait, I...” Ildico stammered.

“Behind Your Head!” Paul snarled. With one hand he
bent Ildico’s wrist to push it back behind her head and with the other he took
hold of the side of her face to gently stroke her chin and cheek with his
fingers. He hadn’t meant for it to sound or feel aggressive, but with the
sudden speed and his lowering and gravelly voice, it obviously startled her. At
least it had the desired effect as Ildico snapped to attention and locked her
fingers together behind her head.

With Ildico being correctly subservient, Paul
continued with her jeans. She held her breath as he unzipped them, both of them
listening to the sound of the zipper pulling lower. That sound, this situation,
had such wonderful erotic overtones. Paul pulled at the sides of her jeans,
they were tight but they rolled and pulled down off her ass after a few sharp
tugs. He looked down momentarily to see she was wearing peach coloured cotton
underwear. When he looked back up he saw moistness in her eyes, tears beginning
to form, lubricating her eyelids. Paul rested his hand on the gusset of her panties
feeling the warmth and humidity of the girl’s sex. She was going to be
delicious.

He stepped between her legs pushing her tighter
against the kitchen units and used his knees and stance to push her legs as far
apart as her loosened jeans would allow.

“Please,” she said as a tear rolled from the corner of
her eye. It looked as though she was shaking her head to say ‘No’, but the only
word she spoke was ‘please’.

Paul raised his hand from her gusset to push it under
the waistband of her panties. He’d imagined her to be clean shaved, instead he
discovered hair, silky, almost as though it was oiled. With a delicate massage
his hand moved further and found her slit.

Ildico made a sob and tears rushed from both of her
eyes. She still had her hands locked together behind her head as Paul slowly
massaged her cunt, but her face twisted into such ugly dimensions as she cried
that he found it hard to believe she could make such faces.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, almost growling as his
voice registered so deeply.

“I don’t want to,” She said.

“Yes you do want to. I can feel how wet you are.” It
was true, she really was wet, she must be wanting it. Paul hooked his finger
and pushed it deeper inside her. Ildico cried a little and brought her elbows
forward, covering her ears with her forearms.

Paul removed his hand and ran his fingers through his
lips to taste her. Ildico seemed to ease off her tears as she unclasped her
hands but cried another big sob when he took hold of her wrists again.

It was too uncomfortable in the kitchen. The heat was
making him feel sick. The bedroom would be better. Paul walked Ildico
backwards, coaxing her along the way by squeezing her wrists. At one point she
tried to sit down to stop moving but Paul found that inflicting a small amount
of pain from bending her wrist kept her following his lead.

It was strange to see her so contorted through
emotion. She stood staring down at the bed as though she were being led to the
gas chambers or something, but Paul found it difficult to read the signs. She
wailed when he led her to the bedroom, yet just sniffled as he pulled her jeans
down and made her step out of them. She sobbed huge buckets of tears when he
spread her legs apart so he could examine her pussy, but then just got on with
the job of sucking his cock. He sat on the edge of the bed and made her kneel
on the floor between his legs and even brought his fantasy to life by making
her play with her own nipples and look him in the eyes as she sucked him. When
she did that, she didn’t cry. It must have been her secret fetish because every
time he touched her he found her pussy was so moist with sexual excitement.
Despite her tears and pleadings, she was really enjoying the game.