A Fright Night Twist
What If Charley Brewster Was A Girl?
Chapter Seven
Chaos and Blood Loss
"Son of a bitch!" Allen cursed loudly and slammed the phone back onto its payphone base, "Damn it he won't help us." He turned around and his eyes instantly went wide; Charley was gone. "Charley!" he called out, his eyes peered out into the dancing crowd with growing panic, "Charley!" He quickly moved into the clutter of bodies, dancers bumped into him as he pushed through them. "Charley!" he screamed over the music while taking quick jumps trying to find her within the dancing chaos. He darted and weaved through the mass of clubbers; his eyes panicked as they continued to scan passed moving bodies. "Charley!" over and over he screamed. Then, through the span of a dozen bodies, he saw her but she wasn't alone. His eyes grimaced upon realizing she was dancing with the monster they had desperately tried to escape. "Fucker!" he cursed over the music and quickly began shoving his way through the mass of people, "Get the fuck out of my way!" he continued to curse, his jealousy ignited by the vampire having successfully seduced his girlfriend. He came closer and closer; disgusted by the image of Charley allowing Dandridge to touch her in ways that she always protested when he attempted to do so. His eyes narrowed with ignited jealous anger and with a final shove through a couple he stumbled before them. His lips pursed together; he quickly reached and snagged hold of Dandridge's sweater then tugged the vampire's attention. "You let her go!" he grumbled once the vampire looked at him with a smug expression.
Dandridge enjoyed the look of pure jealousy glaring back at him from Allen's narrowed eyes. His lips puckered slightly with the desire to prod the boy's damaged ego. He turned his back to the boy not fearing anything Allen would do in reaction to his next step upping the ante. He pulled Charley against him and finally gave her what she wanted. His lips pressed to hers; felt her accepting lips slightly motion into a satisfied smile.
"You fucking asshole!" Allen yelled and brought his arm back, hand balled into a fist, then swung. His eyes went wide the instant his fist was snatched with ease by Dandridge's hand. He gasped feeling Dandridge's grip aggressively tighten around his fist then gradually intensify which forced his knees to begin buckling beneath the weight of the pain. His eyes widely shifted from his in pain fist to Dandridge who slowly turned and looked at him. He clenched his jaw trying to push through the pain that was bringing him to his knees. His eyes narrowed at the amusement expressed in Dandridge's black eyes. "I'm not," he grumbled through the pain and clenched teeth, "going to let you," the strain against the pain clear in his voice, "kill her!"
Dandridge's eyes followed as Allen finally landed on his knees. His lips formed that deceptively charming grin then he laughed in response to the boy's pathetic statement. "I don't want to kill her," he stated, "Not any longer I don't." He gave the boy a backwards shove releasing his vice grip. He turned after Allen landed back against the dance floor and tightly grabbed Charley's hand.
Charley eyes frowned after hearing Dandridge's statement. She felt Dandridge tug her by the hand; her feet stumbled as she looked back at Allen who scrambled back onto his feet. There was a struggle brewing inside her watching Allen begin pushing his way through the people separating them. Her arm stretched out behind her reaching her hand out to him. Behind Allen she spotted a large burly man wearing a club logo t-shirt barreling towards him. She again stumbled upon feeling Dandridge stop. Quickly Allen snatched her hand just as the large bouncer grabbed him by the shoulders. "I got them!" the bouncer announced reaching passed Allen and grabbed her by the arm pulling her back from Dandridge. She was jerked backwards by Dandridge who tightly gripped her hand. Her eyes remained focused on Allen. The bouncer again pulled her by the arm then Dandridge's grip broke free and Allen quickly gathered her to him. She and Allen were quickly corralled passed Dandridge who was face to face with a second bouncer.
Dandridge watched the giant bouncer hustle Charley and Allen towards the stairs. His eyes glared then darted looking to the face of the man before him. "Get out of my way." He grumbled with growing rage.
"Move me!" The bouncer challenged.
Dandridge's lips perked with acceptance of the challenge. "Okay," he took the challenge and with a blink his eyes burned evilly red. His lips curled back as an unnatural growl grumbled passed his grown fangs. He lavished in the shock and fear that built within the bouncer's wide eyes. His lips curled further with a low hiss slithered from his mouth. With a quick flick of his wrists his fingers extended as did the sharpened lengths of his nails. "Leon!" he listened to the terrified bouncer call out to the big guy. He swung his arm back then swung forward lashing his claw-like nails directly across the bouncer's exposed throat; blood spurted from the massive wound spattering over the group seated at a nearby table followed by the bouncer's body crashing down onto into its center. Screams of terror ignited throughout the club then panicked clubbers scattered from the lifeless bouncer sprawled over the table wreckage.
Dandridge refocused and marched with determination; people parted like the sea in response to him stomping forward. He charged up the stairs focused on the first bouncer who had to be double the girth of the second. Leon the bigger bouncer jogged down the stairs and the instant they collided he snatched the bouncer effortlessly by the throat. His fangs snarled. His red eyes followed upward as he lifted the two hundred plus pounds off the stairs. His jaw clenched then effortlessly he tossed the giant man over the stairs sending the bouncer backwardly colliding with the dance floor sliding nearly ten feet parting the ocean of panicked clubbers. He refocused his attention on the two teens that vanished into the stampede of clubbers.
Charley and Allen struggled clinging to one another as the stampeding clubbers clogged the stairwell that led to the main entrance below. Charley felt dazed and confused while Allen desperately kept his arms wrapped around her. With a sudden wave of bodies crashing against them Allen was shoved so hard he lost his grip and instantly was caught in the tidal wave continuing down the stairwell; Charley was slammed backwards against the wall then pushed down the stairs and pinned in the corner. Allen screamed for Charley over the scramble of heads seeing her steadily rammed into by panicked clubber after clubber. Charley screamed feeling every painful slam of bodies pressing her into the corner wall. Allen began to attempt to climb against the flow keeping his eyes focused on Charley. Suddenly a clubber was tossed passed Allen as he desperately worked his way up the stairs. Another clubber screamed being thrown over the sea of heads striking the stair rail. Allen's head turned following each thrown man and woman clubber; bodies flipped over the rail then he focused on Charley who no longer screamed as she slowly sunk down beneath the rush of heads.
"Charley!" Allen desperately screamed feeling himself being forced backwards. The screams around him were deafening as they mixed within the loud music. His eyes lost sight of Charley but he did find Dandridge easing through the stampede while effortlessly tossing bodies aside like they were plucked weeds. Dandridge was heading directly where Charley had vanished. He shifted his eyes to the corner and again desperately pushed against the tidal wave trying to flood him backwards. He started screaming to Charley as Dandridge reached the corner. "NO!" he screamed trying to knock heads out of his way.
Charley had been dragged down to the floor, legs kicked her and clubbers continued to knock into her. She sat unconscious awkwardly pressed against the wall. The bodies ceased their attacks then a hand grabbed her by the upper arm. With a pull back from the wall she was swept up off the floor by Dandridge where her body limply collapsed. Dandridge briefly looked at her then snapped his head in Allen's direction.
Allen continued to scream his protests while being pinned against the wall at the landing below the one where Dandridge stood with Charley in his arms. He reached out with desperation with his eyes wide in horror. He screamed her name with his head and eyes following Dandridge as he carried Charley back up the stairs where the stampede dwindled. They vanished back into the emptied club. He swung his arms shoving through the thinning rush of clubbers. He reached the stair rail using it for leverage, pulled him up the flight of stairs. Once at the landing the crowd had faded behind him. He raced up the stairs, ignored the pain bruised over his entire body. He reached the final entrance to the club and looked out at the remains of chaos. His wide eyes desperately searched over the wreckage of broken and toppled tables and chairs and the bodies of those who were mercilessly trampled by the chaotic stampede. He couldn't see them. Charley was nowhere to be seen. He spun around and raced back down the stairwell, jumped over crushed clubbers. He pushed through the people pouring out of the club entrance and ran out onto the street with stumbling strides. He quickly looked to the left and there was Dandridge's black jeep and Dandridge closing the back door.
Allen went into a quick run towards the jeep. Dandridge briefly looking to him flashing that sinister smirk then swung open the passenger door and climbed inside. "No!" he yelled but the moment he reached the jeep a horrendous version of Eva suddenly popped up inside the back of the jeep. Eva's face was distorted into an ugly vampire version of her former Gothic vampire wannabe self which prompted him to scream and cease his approach. He saw an expression of psychotic madness about Eva's new face with fangs grotesquely protruding passed her widely grinning lips. Eva swung forward from inside the jeep; slashing her distorted lengthy nails outward. He backwardly stumbled and felt Eva's claw-like nails lash across the t-shirt beneath his denim jacket; such a startle caused him to fall backwards hitting the pavement full onto his back. With a grunt he felt the back of his head smack against the pavement. Eva's cackle was loud and just as hideous as her face; the cackle echoed in his jarred head as he lay on his back bringing both hands to the back of his throbbing head. He heard the distinct sound of the jeep's engine roar. Feeling dizzy he lifted his head up off the pavement and looked to see the Jeep speeding away with his girlfriend inside and Eva cackling and pointing at him. "Charley," he moaned then painfully pushed himself up; the jeep sped around the corner and vanished. He sat with his eyes swelling with tears; what was he to do?
Allen had only one choice; go to Peter Vincent. It was a long walk to the apartment building where Peter Vincent lived; long enough to give him time to let the horrors of the night truly sink in. He found his way to the Peter's apartment door. He had to do or say whatever it took to convince the frightened actor to help him rescue Charley. He pounded his fist against the door, "Mr. Vincent!" he called through the door. "Who is it?" he heard the actor shout through the door. "Mr. Vincent, it's me Allen." he shouted back. The door cracked open with the chain lock still attached; he looked into the opening and Peter's terrified face popped into view.
"Are you one of them?" Peter nervously asked trying to study the teen's appearance through the opening.
"What?" Allen grimaced with a shake of his head.
"Here," Peter slipped his arm through the opening and aimed the earlier used cross, "Touch this."
Allen rolled his eyes then swiftly grabbed his hand over the cross and held for a moment then pulled his hand back. "Okay?" he asked wanting to get inside and start the convincing process. He watched Peter disappear then the door slammed. He listened to the chain lock be undone then the door swung open. He quickly went inside. Once inside Peter quickly redid the chain lock and the deadbolt then rushed passed him. He watched Peter hurry to the single bed where a suitcase was again on top half full of clothes. "What are you doing?" he asked hurrying to the bed, "Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving." Peter firmly stated as he continued to pack the suitcase.
"You just can't leave." Allen protested then grabbed the suitcase pulling it from man.
"Just watch." Peter reached and pulled the suitcase back.
"Mr. Vincent," Allen again grabbed the suitcase, this time he pulled it out of the man's reach, "Dandridge took Charley!"
Peter gasped in response to the announcement, "Oh, no." He quickly thought then marched from the little cubby, "We'll call the police." He hurried into the living area and grabbed the telephone but Allen was quickly beside him and jerked the phone from his hand. He looked to the boy with question.
"I already tried." Allen slammed the phone back down on the base, "They didn't believe a damn word I said and they won't believe you either." He saw the desperation fill the actor's wrinkled expression. "Mr. Vincent, Peter," he spoke much calmer, "The only ones who can help her now is me and you." His eyes followed Peter as the man shakily retreated to the sofa sitting down. "We're the only ones, besides Charley, who know the truth and Dandridge won't stop at nothing to kill all of us." He stepped around the end table keeping his eyes on Peter, "So, we have no choice to do whatever it takes to save Charley's life and ours."
Peter sat with his elbow propped against the sofa arm. He knew everything the teen said was true but the fear inside him made any idea of rescuing Charley seem impossible. He refused to look up at Allen. His hand trembled as it rested against his chin.
"Damn it," Allen raised his voice, "You're Peter Vincent the Great Vampire Killer! If there's anyone who could stop him, it has to be you!"
"Allen," Peter finally spoke and reluctantly looked up at Allen's stern expression, "That's not even my real nameā¦it's just a character in a movie!"
"I don't care!" Allen moved and took a seat beside Peter, "It's just you and me, Peter. It's just the two of us. We have to save Charley. She didn't deserve what's happened to her. We owe her because none of us believed her and look what happened!" he grabbed the man's trembling hand, "Please, Peter," he pleaded with the actor, "We can't abandon her, Peter. If I have to do this on my own I will but I would feel much more confident with you at my side." His eyes glistened with tears.
Peter felt his own tears begin to form. He swallowed then dared looking at the boy's desperate eyes. He was so terrified, "Allen," his voice cracked under the fear, "I'm sorry but I just can't. I'm," he hated hearing his own refusal, cowardly refusal, "I'm positively terrified."
"So am I." Allen confessed, "But we can't let that stop us."
Peter saw the hope in Allen's glistening eyes. Could he even muster the strength that would give him a hint of hope? Was he capable of pushing back his fear and cowardliness? Could his years of portraying a vampire killer truly be of any help? He closed his eyes and gave a heavy sigh.
A melody, firstly faint, entered Charley's wakening mind. As the melody's delicate song lifted so did her consciousness. Her eyes moved beneath the weight of their lids. She inhaled deeply then slowly exhaled with a soft sigh escaping passed her lips. Her eyelids softly fluttered then slowly lifted; her vision firstly blurred. As the melody continued her eyes gradually focused and looked upward at an unfamiliar ceiling. She frowned with confusion then shifted her eyes from side to side seeing more confusing unfamiliarity. A fireplace was to her left and a window to her far right. Her eyes continued to look around as she lay on her back; nothing was familiar which heightened her confusion. A painting caught her eye then she shifted her eyes following the paintings lining the walls; each a portrait of a woman and each done in a different artistic interpretation and medium. Her head followed the shift of her eyes which looked over each and every portrait. Her eyes were led to the fireplace to her left and snapped wide open upon looking at that painted portrait of a face identical to her own. She lightly gasped taking in the entirety of the image that seemed to be her own. Her face, it seemed it was her face; in every detail it was her. A mirrored image; the same chestnut hair twisted into long waves framing the same face with the same shaped brown eyes lined with dark lashes and the same modestly full mouth sweetly curved into an innocent smile.
Upon seeing and studying her own face reflected in the portrait she knew where she was. "She was," a frighteningly familiar voice spoke through the gentle melody, "She was someone I knew." Dandridge's voice spoke from somewhere in the room, "A very long time ago." She again gasped in response to his voice then sat up but felt her head go into a dizzying spin. She slapped her hand down against what felt like a fur then brought the other hand against the side of her head with her eyes tightly closed against the dizziness. The dizziness faded, her eyes again opened aimed downward. She found herself dressed but not in the clothes she put on that evening. Her hand lowered from the side of her head and reached down touching the delicate material of a dress she had been dressed in. The dress was made of sheers layers of flowing fabric that felt almost weightless draped over her body and the material was dyed a rich crimson. Her eyes frowned with confusion recognizing the shade of red from the painting. Then she felt awkward; Dandridge dressed her which meant he had seen parts of her body she wouldn't even allow her boyfriend to touch. Her face flushed with embarrassment; lifted her hand to the bodice's prominently open low neckline which exposed the inner portions of her breasts; her fingers gathered the delicate material in effort to conceal her cleavage.
Dandridge had watched her closely from the distance across the room where he stood near the stereo which continued playing the instrumental melody; his shirt unbuttoned exposing the smooth chest beneath. It was obvious she was confused, distraught after the traumatizing experience at the club. On the bare portions of her naturally pale skin, about her arms, was evidence of bruising after having been battered by the chaotic stampede. He was silent watching her. Her head aimed down as did her eyes, her hand clutching the dress's neckline closed as her chest heaved in response to the confusion. He took a step forward; his bare foot pressed against the floor which sounded a loud creak.
Charley snapped from her confused daze upon hearing the creak through the soft melody. Her head quickly lifted; again realizing where she was. Her head turned towards the direction the creak had come from and there she found Dandridge who stopped his approach. She pushed her hand against the fur rug she sat atop then leaned back in fear. The moment she saw him, every detail of the past days erupted inside her head; the coffin being carried, the window framed scene where he attempted to bite the young woman, and his attack on her in her bedroom. She felt her body begin to tremble in response to the eruption of real horrors. Her eyes grew wider as that evening was finally remembered; the farce inside that house where she was made a fool again, Dandridge's pursuit of her and Allen through the dead streets, the intimacy on the dance floor, and the chaos that followed which was what she lastly remembered. She startled from the memories the moment he again stepped forward. She quickly gathered her arms crisscrossed over her chest then cocked her head down looking to the floor desperately refusing to look again into those dark eyes that were witnessed changing from one emotion to another, from red rage to burning desire. "Where's Allen?" she managed to ask; kept her eyes from his. There was no response which gave her more fear heightened by confusion. She felt her chest heave in panic while her heart racing inside. Why was he doing this? Why hadn't he killed her like he threatened? Was it just a continuance of his deadly game?
Dandridge stood before her. She looked fragile with her trembling arms cradled against her chest, her head down, and anxiously rocking in short front to back movements. Right then she was opposite of the sexual woman he witnessed on the dance floor which he proudly took credit for bringing out of her. Now she had the actions of a frightened child but the appearance of a woman, of the woman in crimson. He wanted her to look up at him; if she only looked up into his eyes he would easily ease her fears and again bring forth that seductress hidden within behind a frightened child. "Charley," his voice sang her name using a softer tone, "Charley." He stared down at her waiting for her to respond.
She heard his voice clearly and the deceptively soft tone. Her eyes lifted only slightly and looked to his bare feet before her. She felt tears begin to sting her eyes; tears developed from so many emotions jumbled together. Her lips trembled as did her entire body. She felt that overbearing emotion that earlier gave him the opportunity to seduce her; a desperate emotion that prompted her to give up on something that seemed hopeless. No one could help her. No one could save her. Allen failed to keep her from Dandridge's clutches; her nightmare he refused to believe. When she needed someone, there was no one. That loneliness and the sense of abandonment began to press passed the other jumbled emotions. Where was her hero? Where was her savior? No one, not a soul wanted to believe her warnings. She was alone in darkness; a dark world many thought only cursed fictional books and movies. The weight of those more prominent emotions loosened her arms cradling embrace and slowly they lowered resting her hands against the forearms. "Charley, look at me." She heard his almost soothing voice beckon. Her eyes lightly closed feeling a single tear emerge from both eyes then begin a slow trickle down her flushed cheeks. Slowly she raised her head upward towards the sound of his oddly soothing voice. Her eyes opened and instantly looked to his.
His eyes buried deeply into hers; saw the tears lining the shape of her eyes and the glittery trails that moved down her sad face. He knew the sadness had surpassed any fear. He read the hopelessness within her eyes; her sense of abandonment played to his advantage. She suffered disappointment after disappointment from all three; her boyfriend, best friend, and Peter Vincent. The meeting from earlier played against her emotions; he knew the moment he saw her lingering behind them that she didn't believe the whole set up. Their blatant refusal to believe her knowledge of what he was had destroyed her hopes in them. Now, her delicate frame of mind and emotion was his advantage to do with as he pleased.
Her eyes saw sympathy in his eyes; sympathy she never witnessed in Allen's eyes when she told him the secrets she knew about the creature looming above her. She remembered only empathy and pity in Allen's eyes as he thought she was losing her mind. Everyone she turned to gave her the same none believing expression. She watched through her peripheral vision pull back his unbuttoned shirt which slid down the length of arms and fell to the floor. Her eyes followed, locked with his, as he lowered to the fur rug and seated before her. She felt the sting of tears subside while her eyes continued locked with his. She watched his eyes shift in study of the familiar features. Was the change of his plans because of her face and the one reflected in the painting? He lifted a hand and moved it towards her; she leaned back with her eyes darting to his hand. Again she looked to his eyes, hers questioning his motives. She slightly turned her head as he again moved his hand. She closed her eyes unsure what he was going to do then she felt his hand gently touch the side of her face; his thumb wiped across her tear moistened cheek, drying the trail. Her eyes opened and again she looked into his eyes seeing that softness she remembered seeing one other time. Within the terror of his attack, as she was being forced out the window, she made a plea and upon looking up at his face she saw the excitement of her death fade into a surprising softness of realization.
He held his hand against the side of her face; her cheeks remained flushed against her skin's natural paleness. He traced the pad of his thumb along a light bruise across the line of her cheekbone. His fingers curved under and gently brushed back the frame of chestnut hair from the side of her face. He leaned forward, his eyes held hers, and with unnatural softness his lips pressed against hers. His fingers combed back her hair exposing the side of her neck. His head tilted to the side gently heightening the kiss. Her lips burned against his as they subtly returned his kiss. The innocence and purity were apparent in the manner she struggled to duplicate the manner he kissed her. His lips glided from hers then pressed momentarily against her cheek. He made a sudden motion towards the very side of her neck which startled her.
Immediately fearful again, "No." she gasped, instinctively pushed her hands against his chest. Her face twisted with fear feeling her body again tremble.
His lips formed a slight smirk; intrigued by her quick reaction. His eyes again looked to hers. The expression in her eyes was identical to the fearful expression he saw the night he held her by the throat while forcing her mercilessly out the window. In his mind he heard that gasped please and remembered the very moment he was forced to acknowledge her mirror like appearance to the one in the portrait. His eyes again softened as they had that night. The fear in her eyes softened him; it wasn't fear he wanted her to feel. He studied closely the fear that filled her eyes as they stared back at him. His eyes shifted and looked down at her hands pressed against his chest; he felt the trembling vibrate through the heat. He had to ease her fears; break down the fearful walls. He moved his hand wrapping them over her left hand. He again looked into her wide eyes as he lifted her hand from his chest then guided it to the right side of his face. He leaned against the heat of her hand keeping his eyes with her. He felt the trembles begin to ease as his head turned and pressed his lips against the center of her soft palm. Her walls were again collapsing beneath his cunning gentleness.
She felt weakened by the manner of his odd tenderness. Inside she struggled against the manner he currently treated her and that earlier attack. There seemed to be so many different sides to him which confused her and caused the inner struggle. Deep in her mind she knew she should refuse his advances, see his tenderness as a cunning ploy. Yet, deep in her troubled heart his tenderness was something she had longed for and never truly received from who was supposed to be her boyfriend. All the times when Allen made his advances he lacked the tenderness the creature before her now gave. She knew what was behind that irresistibly handsome mask; saw the monster in its horrifying flesh. Her mind desperately attempted to remind her of the horrors she saw but her heart craved what was right in front of her.
She willingly held her hand against the side of his face as his hand slid over the length of her arm moving to the curve of her shoulder. Her eyes again studied the details of his handsome face; his expression so soft. She felt her body ease its fearful trembling; her heart began to overpower her mind. Her fingertips traced along the side of his face and moved along the full curve of his bottom lip; her eyes studying the gentleness about his mouth. Her right hand removed from his chest. Her right arm lifted bending at the elbow then reached her hand towards the back of her neck. Her eyes again lifted to his and she drowned herself within those black pools that swirled all the expressions her heart wanted to see. Her hand slipped under the length of her hair lifted it up from the back of her neck. She slipped her left hand from his face as his eyes continued to burn into hers. Her left hand moved to the back of her neck and her fingers gripped the clasp that held the halter straps together. Keeping her hair lifted up, her fingers undid the single clasp. Her right hand guided her hair over her shoulder with the left nudging the undone straps to fall from around her neck. She had done what she refused Allen.
Her eyes watched his. His eyes scanned down from hers; over the features of her face and shifted looking down. She was no longer awkward about her body. Too many times to count she having rejected Allen's desire to view her body. She felt his hand slip from the curve of her shoulder and his fingertips traced along the prominent curve of her collarbone. Down between her collarbones his fingertips grazed. Her chest heaved with deep breaths. Her body felt heated and flushed. His fingertips lightly brushed down the center between her youthful breasts. Bringing her hand again to the side of his face, with her own willingness, she leaned forward slightly lifting up off the rug and brought her lips against his. Her lips kissed his in a manner she never kissed Allen. His experience was by far more than hers but she worked through her inexperience. She pressed the heat of her body against him. Their kiss heightened as all her inexperience was burned away by the intensifying passion. She felt real lust and desires bury over all other emotions; her heart led her forward into the unknown.
He indulged in her growing sexuality she was pulling free on her own. He moved his hand up, grazing the back of his fingers against the inner softness of her breast. His hand moved up to the side of her exposed neck. His mouth kissed hers fully pressing his tongue between her lips and tasted every sweet breath. His other hand swiftly lifted upward grazing their fingertips along the rounded side of her right breast feeling the silken brush of her chestnut hair delicately draped down. Then he slipped his hand into the thickness of her hair. His fingers gathered and twisted her hair gathering and keeping every length pulled to the right. He enjoyed the sweetness of her every passionate hum; felt each breathy hum against his lips and tongue. His lips slid from hers; she released a heavily intoxicated sigh. His lips pressed firmly against the side of her face and savored the radiating heat. Again the curve of her jaw his lips pressed followed by pressing firmly against the start of her neck. Her head leaned to the side in response to the direction his lips moved. He felt the fangs press against the inside of his lips. His hand gripped her tender shoulder as the other held firmly her bundled hair. His eyes opened, consumed by red and they focused on the tensed muscle along her line of her shoulder. His head tilted back, lips parted and pulled back over the grown top and bottom fangs. With the lust to taste the purity of her blood and desire to pull her completely into his darkness; he swiftly brought his fangs down penetrating into the hot flow beneath her soft flesh.
The moment the fangs were driven painfully into her flesh; she gasped loudly and eyes snapped wide open. She released a soft whine feeling the painful sensation. The pain slowly subsided as she felt the distinct motion of her blood being drawn from her body filling his. Her head leaned to the side with her eyes rolling beneath their fluttering lids. She breathed heavily feeling a strange pleasure begin to emerge from the powerful latch on her neck. Her body trembled, not with fear, with the intensifying erotic sensation. She could feel the feathery sensation of her blood trailing down her bare back. Her head lifted through the growing weakness. Her eyes lightly opened; within the brown irises a hint of amber tone intensified creating a dramatic sunburst spreading outward as the pupil shrunk. Her eyes fluttered into vacancy then her head dropped against the hand fisting her hair. Weakness consumed her body causing her to go limp.
His grip of her shoulder and hair prevented her from dropping backwards. He felt her go limp. He jerked his head back tearing the fangs from her neck. His eyes fluttered with intoxication and felt the power the purity of her blood fill his body. His lips grinned as they pressed together feeling the exotic bloody slick coating them then slid his tongue tasting the lingering blood from his lips. His head lowered forward and red eyes looked to her face. Gently he guided her limp body down against the lush fur. He untangled his fingers from her hair allowing her head to fall to the side then gathered the halter straps and redid the clasp behind her neck. He brought his fingertips to the right side of her chin then nudged her head upward. His lips formed his signature slanted grin upon seeing the immediate differences within her half opened eyes; the beautiful amber brilliantly consumed the light brown. And so, she would soon be his which triggered his grin smugly broader.
