Happy Halloween, my darlings! :)
I've got the Halloween party playlist on my Spotify blasting through every speaker I own, the hot cocoa is fresh and I have snacks for days. Let's go this, shall we?
I don't own Twilight or it's characters, but I do own the creative rights to the vile things that sprout in my mind.
You want a trigger warning? Well, there's a lot...
This is a dark Vampward mini-fic.
There's blood, gore and sex—the perfect combination for Halloween.
He's cruel, he's vile; that combination of danger and sex that just makes me smile.
Enough with the warnings. You know me: I don't write what the masses enjoy and I stopped caring so proceed with caution.
I've been told some people need a fresh pair of undies, a bowl of popcorn and a blanket. Take you pick. Enjoy.
Much love,
Pearly.
This will be marked complete today, so add this to the alerts if you want to be notified when I update
:)
cataclysmic appetite
- ONE -
It's been ages since I've been back here. The weather is cold, although the air is sticky and smells like candy. There's nothing like spending All Hallows' Eve in the United States of America. I dim the lights in my motel room and move the thin pink curtain to the side a little so I can peek through the gap.
The parking lot is empty except for half a dozen cars, both old and new, battered and pristine. Mine isn't there because I don't have one. I hate cars, detest driving. It's too slow and the traffic makes me want to sever multiple arteries all at once. It's not worth risking exposure. The Volturi would have my head—literally—so I run. Everywhere and anywhere.
Fuck, I'm hungry and my balls feel tight. It's time for a feed—a good one, too. Tonight's a magical night, a night where blood and gore don't scare anyone. In fact, they welcome it. They love it. Stupid fucking humans don't distinguish the fake from the real until I'm biting into their necks. A breathy chuckle leaves my throat as I shake my head, hearing the guy upstairs try to lure his woman into giving him a blowjob. The mental picture of her slutty costume doesn't do much for me. Except for the easy access to her more favorable arteries, I wouldn't even bother. But I'm hungry, and it's still too early to go out freely.
I look in the dingy mirror on the wall facing the bed, imagine all the depraved acts it has seen, and run a hand through my hair. My human façade is perfect like this—hungry and wanting, eyes almost realistically mortal. They're black as night, blue shadows underneath that make it seem like I've pulled an all-nighter after a lucrative week at work. Perfect.
Leaving my door unlocked, I speed up the stairs to the next level of the motel, arriving at their door just a second later. The pink paint is chipped and gross, matte spots where the lacquer used to be glossy, scratches from dangling keys or sharp, fake fingernails around the doorknob. I knock twice, and wait the dragging minute it takes the five-foot-eight dude to stroll toward the door.
"Yeah?" He looks agitated because I've interrupted him in his quest for pussy. I smile, disarming him even though he doesn't get it. I can hear the battle inside his head, hear the 'oh damn,' and 'he's a dude, get a grip' that echoes through his mind and feeds his sexual confusion. It's funny, because I getthis reaction all the fucking time. It's only natural, since my glamor doesn't leave any gender unaffected.
"Let me help you out with her." I chuckle. "you need it, and you might be able to help me, too." I grab him by the back of his head, dirty blond locks tangled in my fist. He gasps and hisses as I pull, though I'm barely putting any force behind my actions. If I did, I'd snap his little neck and there would be no point to this conversation.
"Shh, no need to talk. Just do as I say." I shut him up just when he was about to tell me to get the fuck out of his room. I don't care about what he wants. I want blood, and I want it hot, spiced with lust and fear.
"Honey, who's at the d—" The girl stops in her tracks, the polyester of her schoolgirl skirt swinging as she does. She's pretty enough, for a human, with chestnut hair pulled back in two pigtails. It's in need of a trim, the ends split and dry, but she can pull off the look since she doesn't look a day over sixteen. The shiny red scrunchies holding her hair make me cringe though. That's one thing I don't miss from the nineties.
"Hello, Jessica." I smile at her, purring at her like a fucking kitten. She swallows thickly, fiddling with her bracelet with a wide-eyed look on her face.
"How do you know my name?" she asks. I don't answer her but walk her boyfriend closer to her until her full tits meet his chest. They're a good-looking couple—prom-king-and-queen-type shit that seems to be the American Dream nowadays.
"Kiss," I order.
They're staring at each other, confused—again—and I'll never get over how fucking stupid humans can be. I can't believe I was ever one of them. These two annoy the living shit out of me, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to just break their necks and drink them cold.
Calm your shit, Masen. They'll taste so much better once they've come—once they're terrified.
Since they don't seem to get the message, I grab the girl by the back of her neck. She winces as my thumb digs into the side of her windpipe, applying slight pressure there. Aww, a little vanilla couple. This is going to be an easy one.
"I told you to fucking kiss. So kiss, love." Jessica seems to like the accent I've picked up during my year in the UK. I can smell exactly how much she likes it, her pussy leaking and her heart rate skyrocketing. It's my pheromones, my glamor. It's so easy to get humans all worked up.
Her breathing hitches before I press their bodies even closer, pushing until their lips lock and Jessica whimpers.
"Mhm, Mike," she breathes when his hands wander—finally. He's touching her, holding her bare waist. His hands slide down, under the fabric of her skimpy skirt, over a pair of black, fake silk panties with a red heart on the ass. So tacky, Jessica. Mike loves it anyway, groping her ass, and I grab him by the back of his T-shirt, fisting the material before I grind his semi-hard cock into her. He groans, and she mewls against him. I lick my lips, forcing myself to feel something, although it's only embers instead of blazing fires—it's impossible for me to feel more. That ship sailed when she left this earth and left me all by my fucking self.
"Feel her pussy for me, Mike," I order him. His eyes never leave mine as he does exactly what I tell him to. There's not a smidge of hesitation, and I hear Jessica whimper as her boyfriend's hand disappears underneath her cheap skirt. Her hips buck against his palm, rubbing her wet cunt all over the synthetic fabric of her underwear. "Is she wet, boy?" It's a dumb question, since her scent is all over the fucking room, but humans aren't that perceptive, and I live to play with my food.
"S-so wet." Mike groans. I grab him by the hair; strands of gold tickle my poreless skin as I curl my fingers around them.
"Keep going," I tell him as I push his head into Jessica's cleavage. She's got a decent pair of tits—nice and full, although she's wearing the wrong sized bra. My eyes flit from his lips on the well of her tits to the way she's practically riding Mike's hand. So young, so needy, never satisfied. Teenagers are like newborn vampires. They're always fucking —always looking for the next best thing that's going to cause a spike in adrenaline, that's going to make them feel something.
I let go of Mike's head, chuckling as I see him struggle with the laces in the front of Jessica's costume. I snap my fingers and they break away from each other panting before I rip the front of her top apart.
"You'd better make her come, Mike.". His blue eyes go all wide and glassy as I grab Jessica's hand and place it on the tent in his jeans. He groans as I press their heads together, and they kiss as if their poor little lives depend on it. They might depend on it; I'm not quite sure what to do with them next.
Their tongues mingle and dance but instead of growing hard, I grow annoyed. I'm sick of this game and it needs to go faster. I need more, now, and I'm over this juvenile performance.
"Time to take it up a notch," I bark.
Two pairs of eyes settle on my face, searching for a reaction but all they get is my emotionless expression. I don't care about them, but Jessica insists that, apparently, I do care. So much so, that the questions inside her head make me want to vomit.
"Are you joining us?" she purrs. It's disgusting and sickly sweet and it makes me want to snap her neck before I drink from the artery as if it's a fucking fountain.
"Never in a million years, love."
She gasps when I walk around her, grab one of her pigtails, and yank her down to her knees. Using slightly more force, I angle her head up and give her my smolder before I talk to her again. "Now, be a good girl and suck your boy's cock, okay?" I don't know why I let her do it, but part of me enjoys seeing humans peak before I bury them.