Title: Stalked
Prompt: running
Disclaimer: Ryan Murphy created them. I just like playing with the moulds.
A/N: So, I've been working on a Halloween story since before last Halloween, and it didn't get done again this year (maybe next year, sigh). So instead, I wrote this. And still didn't get it posted in time, but here it is now. Based on another story I haven't finished yet.
Her heart hammered in her chest. Her breath came raggedly, gasps ripped painfully from her throat as she flung herself behind the low wall that separated the tennis court from the school courtyard. She scraped a three inch layer of skin clean away from her forearm and had to bite her lip almost until it bled to stop herself from crying out.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are." Came the husky, sultry voice. Her muscled tensed as she tried to flatten herself against the ground, eyes wide and pointed to the sky even though she wanted nothing more than to close them. And then wake up. "I can smell you." A shadow moved over her, past her, and then stopped. She held her breath. Then suddenly the shadow was coming back for her, leaping over the small wall and landing beside her tight body, hands and feet pressed into the spongy court floor. "You smell so good, Sammie." Sam stared up into eyes dark as the night surrounding them, the full moon glinting in them. "What big eyes you have."
"Please Brooke, don't do this." Brooke inhaled slowly and then let the breath out in a long, low moan as she slid her hand beneath Sam's torn and bloodied t-shirt, pressing it against the brunette's stomach and eliciting a whimper from her.
"I've waited so long to taste you." The words were little more than a rolling growl, and Sam felt her breath hitch as she felt Brooke's hand turn and jerk upwards. Heard nails as sharp as knifes tear through the flimsy fabric of her t-shirt, and then felt the cool night touch her skin. She saw Brooke's eyes, normally hazel and breathtaking, shift to an eerie grey-misted red and a sob escaped her.
"Don't hurt me…" She finally begged, fear gripping every individual muscle in her body and squeezing it. Brooke's hand, warm and downy, was back on her body and stroking upward until she cupped her cheek. She leaned down until their faces were barely an inch apart, until Sam felt Brooke's breath on her lips.
"I promise, it won't hurt a bit."