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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1110308-Dark-Divide
Rated: GC · Short Story · Gothic · #1110308
Short story about vampiric revenge. NOT for minors. Strong language, gore.
         Dark Divide

         A slow drizzle fell gently over West London as the sunlight faded away behind flat gray clouds. The breeze was warm and it promised to be another lovely rainy night. Sahiri ambled through the alleyways, her hair sticking to her face in deep plum strands, the black makeup around her green eyes only slightly smudging. She rummaged through the rain-soaked pocket of her black trench coat, searching for the dollar she knew was in there somewhere. The convenience store was only a block away, and she needed coffee.
         Sahiri stepped into a brightly lit world of newspapers, potato chips and candy bars. She squinted in the harsh fluorescent glare, and struggled to focus on the beverage center at the back of the store. Ignoring the clerk’s offensive goggle, she poured herself a large hazelnut coffee, popped a plastic lid on her steamy Styrofoam cup, and tossed the damp crumple of the dollar bill on the counter on her way back out into the eye-soothing darkness.
         She took a deep breath and sipped the tepid richness of her beverage. The warm ball forming in her belly almost made enduring the obnoxious chemical light worth the while.
Now, on to the business at hand. She was faced with the bothersome task of tracking down one Richard Sawyer, and dispensing with him. He was making things difficult for those of her kind, and needed to be silenced.
         The phone book put him at 1204 Beacon Avenue, so that would be the first place to look. The other option would be to catch him at work, but she was hoping it didn’t come to that.
Sahiri took another swig of her coffee. Tiny raindrops pelted her eyes as she looked up to the fourth floor of the complex. The window on the corner was slightly ajar. She smiled. Stupid man. Getting into his apartment couldn’t have been easier if he’d given her the key. She faded into the shadow of the alley and whisked herself up to the window. She was standing in his living room in less than a second, and no one was the wiser.
The place was a mess. She sneered at the untidiness and set her cup on the counter. Why most humans lived like animals, she would never understand. She chalked it up to inborn stupidity, and began to search the apartment. After finding nothing, she strolled back the hall toward his bedroom. If he wasn’t in there, she’d have to hunt him down. Now that would just be a damn shame. Sahiri smirked and turned the handle to Richard’s bedroom door. The bed was smooth and perfectly empty. Of course. She closed the door, and went back out to the living room.
         She ran her fingertips along the cool marble countertop, and was about to pick up her drink when she heard a noise form outside in the hallway. A female voice giggled and sputtered, obviously intoxicated because of the slurred speech and throaty breathing. She heard a thud, and a male voice laughed with the same throaty disorientation. A key was being turned in the lock. Sahiri faded into nothingness, disappearing as if she wasn’t even there. The couple fell through the door, pawing heavily at each other, already in the process of removing their outer clothing. Richard kicked the door closed and struggled clumsily out of his blazer while the woman toed out of her lavender pumps. They matched perfectly with her lavender dress. How charming. Sahiri watched from the shadowed corner of the living room as the two groped each other and grunted like a couple of drunk teenagers. She curled her lip in disgust at the unsavory odor of alcohol and sweat. Even from the far corner her senses were overcome with the rank reminder of humanity’s inferior status to the undead.
Slipping out of her jacket, Sahiri revealed the sleek leather garb of a huntress, and let the damp canvas hit the hardwood floor with a loud smack. Richard jerked his head up while his companion slathered his neck with uncoordinated kisses.
         “What was that?”
         The woman tugged at his shirt. “I didn’t hear anything.”
         Richard tried to still her hands as he pulled out of her embrace. “I mean it, Mary, I heard something.” He tried to see through the darkness into the corner where Sahiri stood. But the blackness was complete. He could not see her slender form. It was just as well. The sight of her voluptuous feminine body enveloped in skintight black leather might have been enough to keep him hard long enough to fuck the waif in his arms. But far be it from her to give the humans any encouragement for breeding; they were doing that enough already. The human food supply was more than sufficient.
         The outfit she had chosen for this little task was purely a logical one. Her form-fitting suit was easily maneuvered. And the fact that she was covered from neck to toe reduced the possibility of leaving any blood samples for the detectives that would inevitably be looking into the scene, should she get scratched in the struggle - not that she expected much of one.
Not seeing anything in the corner, Richard began to scan the rest of the room. His eyes fell upon the steaming cup of coffee sitting on his marble countertop. He stilled.
         “Mary, did you…”
         “No, I did.”
         Richard spun as Sahiri’s sultry voice came out of the darkness. His eyes grew wide when she stepped from the corner.
         “Who the hell are you? How did you get into my apartment?”
         Sahiri gave a wicked smile as Richard tried desperately to sober himself. The woman just stared in confusion.
         “You gave me the key. Really, Richard, I’m hurt. I thought we had something.” Sahiri circled around behind them, blocking the route to the door.
         “What are you talking about? Who the hell are you?”
         Sahiri let herself enjoy the mounting fear in his eyes for a few moments before resetting the deadbolt. He must have realized then what she intended to do, because something akin to panic took over his expression. Richard lunged for the nearest object to use as a weapon, and came up with a jar candle.
         Sahiri clicked her tongue, but remained unconcerned. “Now, now, Richard. No need to get stupid. Put the candle down.”
         “Like hell I will!”
         He launched it at her, but it went wide and smashed on the wall beside her face. Sahiri turned away from the explosion of glass and wax, but not before obtaining several small cuts from the flying shards. She touched her cheek and brought her fingers back smeared with deep crimson. Sahiri fought the unholy rage building at his insolence. She should just rip his throat out and be done with it. No, she was better than that. She turned to him with her most seductive look and sucked the blood from her fingertips. He blanched. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, making them glisten like wet rubies. Richard stood frozen as she stepped closer and gathered his shirtfront in her bloodied hand. She tugged him forward and kissed him thoroughly, pushing her way into his mouth and delivering a healthy dose of coppery-tasting saliva. He fought her, but she was stronger and she held him in place. Sahiri ignored the unpleasant taste of booze and cigarettes and searched out his tongue with her own. She couldn’t help but smile against his mouth as she gained purchase and clamped down hard. Richard grunted with pain as something sharp pierced the sensitive flesh. Sahiri released him, smiling wide. Blood dripped from the points of her teeth, and ran down her chin.
         He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “You crazy bitch! You bit me!”
         “Did I?”
         Richard gasped at the sight of her elongated incisors as it hit him. He knew then what she was. The recognition, the horror, the total disbelief. It shone in his eyes like a beacon. He tried to run. She grabbed his arm and dug her nails in deep enough to draw blood. He turned and swung, but Sahiri had already moved in, and slashed open his throat. Blood sprayed in a wide arc, dousing Mary’s face. She screamed. Sahiri let Richard drop and backhanded her, watching as she fell to the floor. Her adrenaline was pumping now, and Sahiri couldn’t have stopped herself from killing the poor woman if she’d tried.
         Mary looked up through a sticky cobweb of blood and hair as the killer walked toward her. She sobbed, staring in horror at Richard’s blood running down the woman’s black leather in thick rivulets. It was the last thing she ever saw.
© Copyright 2006 Bluest of Grey Souls (marina at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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