Vignette#2 - The Turning by the Shrew

Mick/Coraline

His first night with Coraline was spent dying. She hid him from the sunlight all of the next day. He woke up near evening in the marital bed to which he'd carried her, and the way the room swam told him that something was very wrong. He didn't remember much: he remembered a woman, her face close to his, and then the coiled burning in his stomach as the lust suddenly changed. It was frightening; his body was reacting to memories on a neural level, but his mind was churning so badly he thought he was going to throw up or pass out again. He tried to remember where he was...who he was.

"Sssshh."

He hissed with pain at the overloud whisper. The room was stifling; he was burning up. A sluggish impulse had him half-yawn before the sharp pain in his upper lip registered. He put a clumsy hand to the cut and stared at the drops running down his finger. His...what was that called again?...was...what is this?

Coraline had to pull the finger away before he bit clean through the bone, his mouth sucking desperately at the blood, fangs embedded in the flesh.

He ran away from her that second night. She never got the chance to explain and she never tried again. She found him eventually, cowering behind a car, begging her to kill him. When he took little joy in the feeding, she knew she had miscalculated.