Vampirism, by Spidey
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Sarah lay amongst the fresh cotton of her bedsheets, holding them close to her body as she tried desperately to battle
the cold. The house wasn't cold. Not even the air outside her window - the night was balmy, the winds calm. Only her
bed seemed cruel.
Guinivere, her plush yellow bunny, was held tightly to her chest, but her Grandmother's last Christmas present to her
brought no comfort.
Glancing around the room and sitting up, having given up on the idea of sleep, she noticed how tidy it was in her
bedroom. Not a single party hat or pretty streamer on her bed, no balloons dotted around the carpet. Bare. It was
afterwards that she had noticed the reality of it all. Illusion. Nothing substantial to remind her, even to comfort her.
The baby safe, the game ended.
And now what was she supposed to do?
Almost in answer to her silent question, she heard a faint knocking at her window. Her heartbeat quickened, and her
whole body was suddenly paralysed. Anyone else would have deduced that it was a tree branch, perhaps, blown
against the glass by a gust of wind. But that's not what Sarah thought. Besides - there was no wind to speak of.
Until now. Sarah trembled as a huge gale blew outside her bedroom, very suddenly. The contrast between the silence
and chaos was almost unnatural.
Despite her fears, she lifted the covers and stepped out of the bed, Guinivere still firmly within her grasp. She walked
cautiously to the window.
She knew the flash of white feathers would be there, even before her eyes confirmed it. She took a step back from the
window, but suddenly the graceful bird's form changed to one she knew only too well. Diamond eyes gazed at her
through the window pane, fixed on her own. Everything felt vague, then. As though it wasn't really happening. She felt
almost drunk, numb. As the eyes refused to leave hers, she knew she had to open the window.
The bunny dropping to the floor, her hand reached out for the window latch, releasing it quickly, the window swinging
wide open. But the person on the other side of the frame didn't make an attempt to come into the room. Instead he
smiled, and his lips opened to speak.
"Pretty girl, won't you let me in?" he asked, his voice remarkably soft. The coherent part of Sarah's mind registered
how strange his tone was, how completely different from how it had been before. But the part of her that was an
automaton made her answer him quietly, inexplicably.
"Come in, Jareth." It said. Almost before she said it, it seemed he was directly in front of her, twisting a lock of dark
chocolate gently between gloved fingers.
"Thank you, Sarah." He said, his face holding a strange expression of amusement and coldness.
Sarah suddenly felt her dreamy state slip away, and her mind was crystal clear again. She turned, and ran for the door
almost hysterically, stepping on her soft bunny on the way. A hand reached out and took her arm, which was covered
in the brushed crimson cotton of her pyjamas. She was facing him again, locked in her position.
The King stared at her through a few strands of moonlit hair, the bunny now in his other hand.
"You stepped on Guinivere." He stated simply.
Her expression of fear turned to one of pure rage.
"Get out of my house." She said, through gritted teeth, her cheeks blazing. "You have no right to come here."
"You're still thinking about our little game, aren't you Sarah?" he said, his tone devoid of emotion. "You overestimate its
importance."
"Overestimate…?!" she repeated, almost unable to go on "I nearly lost my brother!"
"Trivial." He said coldly. "Meaningless."
Sarah was speechless, but tried her best to struggle against the grip on her arm.
He sighed, as if exasperated. "I'm not letting you go, Sarah. Accept that for the moment."
Common sense surprisingly setting in, Sarah stopped struggling, and decided to just glare at him venomously. He
laughed. Not quite the response she had been hoping for…
"Why are you here?" she asked, the question nothing more than a whisper.
"You took something of mine." Said the velvet of his voice. "I want something from you."
Her eyes narrowed.
"What did I ever take from you?"
"My pride." He bit out, suddenly flinging her onto the bed, his whole demeanour changing radically, his eyes suddenly
darkening almost to the colour of his sweeping cloak.
She shook violently, but kept some semblance of control as she spoke to him fiercely, her back pressed against the
headboard of her bed.
"Oh, is that all…? You are a bad loser, Your Majesty." She said bitterly, the last two words sarcastically toned, her
glittering eyes wildly challenging him.
A sinister grin spread over his face, the heel of his shining black boot resting on the bed next to her.
"No, that's not all…" he said, his eyes secretive, as a gloved hand reached out to play idly with the collar of her pyjama
top.
The look in his eyes was blazing, sexual, his voice almost purring as he leaned closer to her. But what he said next
made Sarah's very brief, though shameful arousal disappear.
"I'm also hungry." He said, his lips parting to reveal a glimmer of something Sarah wasn't sure she had seen. But she
knew Jareth had wanted her to see it.
She was completely silenced, unable to move a muscle as fear gripped her entire body. Jareth's hand went to the top
button of her pyjamas, and he started to move down, unbuttoning it slowly, greedily drinking in her fear. She started to
feel the dizziness consume her again, her sense of reality slipping away as he moved the cotton aside, exposing a
pale breast, the moon lighting it softly. Sarah drew breath quickly.
He leaned over her; his cloak like midnight spread out over the bed, and Sarah felt the strange smoothness of a
leather-clad finger brush against her tight nipple. She looked into his eyes fearfully, still paralysed.
"Shh…" he whispered, his other hand pushing her jaw to the side ever so gently, exposing her soft neck. Sarah
shivered with what she found to be a mixture of terror and strange lust, as his the tip of his tongue slicked up the side
of her neck teasingly. It trailed all the way up past her jawbone, and to taste her lower lip, then sliding in between her
parted lips as he kissed her sensually, biting her lightly before his mouth returned to her neck.
He nipped the flesh there with his lips for a moment, then pulled back, staring into her eyes, so that she could see the
glittering fangs that were bared, his mismatched gaze the colour of liquid silver. Sarah was about to scream out, but
as soon as she opened her mouth, nothing came out. His other hand had moved between her legs, and he stroked her
skillfully, slowly lowering his mouth to her neck. Unable to do anything else, her body flaming hot and cold, Sarah
closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek.
An iron grip held her as his fangs sunk into the tender flesh of her neck, the strangely gentle movements between her
legs forcing her to arch her body, even as the blood was drained out of her.
"No…" was her barely audible cry as the warmth invaded her lower body, though the life force was quickly departing.
Deceivingly soft lips moved against her neck, as the last drops of mortal blood left her. But just before the darkness
invaded, a rippling fire tore through her, and despite her failing soul, she screamed her hunter's name.
