A Different Kind of Hunger
folder
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,036
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,036
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 1: Intro/The Craving
Vincent de Mure was once one of the wealthiest men alive. He had everything any human could possibly want. Until one night, as he had been bitten by a vampire. After many years of hungering for blood, his tastes began to change. He still craved the dark crimson liquid, but in a younger form.
As he was sitting in his study one night, the fire place lit, the room dark, except for the light of a single white candle. He spotted a young girl, no more than fourteen, he guessed, walking along the graveyard that he knew so well. By looking at her clothes and the few items she had with her, he concluded that she was a Witch. Impressed that this girl, of such a young age, would be out this late, in a cemetery no less, he continued to watch her. As she wrote in a book lined with black lace, encased in a dark violet, he noticed her stop to prick her finger with the tip of her sharp pen, one could have only found in the seventeenth century. He watched as she pressed her slender index finger to the page of the small book, smiling when she brought her digit up to suck on the tip. He only stood there, mesmerized at the sight. If she was indeed fourteen, it didn\'t show. She had the features of a full figured woman. He stood there at his window, watching as the young girl removed the hood of her of her bright purple cloak, letting the small gold ties rest on the lower section of her neck. Noting the dark green, lace up bodice she wore, he noticed how her full breasts filled it out quite nicely. This was no teenager, he thought. A virgin, maybe. At least he hoped she was. His hunger for young virgin women had grown over the years into a full grown obsession. He decided he had to have her as she gathered her waist-length brunette hair and brought it to her side. How he wanted to entangle himself and her in that dark, thick mane. Continuing his mild voyeurism on the young virgin, he was intrigued by the way she replaced her dark cloak, and gathering up her things. Yes, everything seemed to be dark to her, he suspected. He slid out past the foyer and descended down the wooden staircase, being sure to time his attack just right. He followed slowly behind her, recognizing the smells of patchouli and other potent herbs. As her pace slowed, he grabbed her quickly, biting her supple skin.
As he was sitting in his study one night, the fire place lit, the room dark, except for the light of a single white candle. He spotted a young girl, no more than fourteen, he guessed, walking along the graveyard that he knew so well. By looking at her clothes and the few items she had with her, he concluded that she was a Witch. Impressed that this girl, of such a young age, would be out this late, in a cemetery no less, he continued to watch her. As she wrote in a book lined with black lace, encased in a dark violet, he noticed her stop to prick her finger with the tip of her sharp pen, one could have only found in the seventeenth century. He watched as she pressed her slender index finger to the page of the small book, smiling when she brought her digit up to suck on the tip. He only stood there, mesmerized at the sight. If she was indeed fourteen, it didn\'t show. She had the features of a full figured woman. He stood there at his window, watching as the young girl removed the hood of her of her bright purple cloak, letting the small gold ties rest on the lower section of her neck. Noting the dark green, lace up bodice she wore, he noticed how her full breasts filled it out quite nicely. This was no teenager, he thought. A virgin, maybe. At least he hoped she was. His hunger for young virgin women had grown over the years into a full grown obsession. He decided he had to have her as she gathered her waist-length brunette hair and brought it to her side. How he wanted to entangle himself and her in that dark, thick mane. Continuing his mild voyeurism on the young virgin, he was intrigued by the way she replaced her dark cloak, and gathering up her things. Yes, everything seemed to be dark to her, he suspected. He slid out past the foyer and descended down the wooden staircase, being sure to time his attack just right. He followed slowly behind her, recognizing the smells of patchouli and other potent herbs. As her pace slowed, he grabbed her quickly, biting her supple skin.