The Eye of the Beholder
folder
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,620
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,620
Reviews:
4
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. And that's the truth-pbbt...
Prologue
**Note from the author**
This is my first original story that is going to be more than just a one shot, I hope. I am looking for advice, but try to make it CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. I think I have the prologue just the way I want it now, and yes, there is such a thing as Vampire Merlot... it's rather tasty. Again, if there is anything any reader could suggest, my ears are open to listen. Enjoy!
~The Vampire,
~ Aldys Annabel Clairveux
Prologue
Most days, mankind is content with its human institution of moral law and order. Then there are those nights, when the mad blood is stirring, that the suppressed primal urges flow through the veins of all living things. With the revving engine roaring in his ears, the blood of William Robert Caine flushes warm in his cheeks as he searches for his new hunting ground. His heart pounds in his chest and his calloused hands grip the steering wheel, making his knuckles turn white, as the neon glow of The Edge sign catches his eye and glares off of the hood of his fire-engine red truck. After pulling into the parking lot behind the club, he steps out of his truck and pulls on his faded, navy blue baseball cap. Then he shoves his hands into his jeans’ pockets as he makes his way to the club, the only sound in the side alley being the brush of his legs together and the muted pounding of the music inside that matches the beat of his work boots on the pavement.
He slinks in past a couple that is leaving at the same time then makes his way through the crowd, observing all the people engaging themselves in this tribal mating ritual called “dancing”. As he shoulders his way to the bar to get a drink, his eyes dart back and forth over the gyrating crowd to see if he can find a female that is to his liking. He orders a bottle of Budweiser as he sits on one of the stools at the counter. The songs that blare from the speakers meld together since they are all cloned from each other. In the couple hours following his arrival to the Edge, William finds that a lot of the females that he dances with seem to be cloned from each other as well. Even though some hair and clothing styles may differ from woman to woman, they are all using the same pick-up lines, talking with the same ear-piercing cuteness, and gyrating in the same rhythm and manner. He was beginning to think that his hunt would leave him empty-handed for the night… or at least empty-bedded.
When the bartender brings his tenth beer, a young-looking girl walks up to the bar a few seats down from his right. When he looks in her direction, she gives him the look: suggestive, yet shy, and can intrigue a man instantly. She slowly turns her head towards him, peeks at him between the curls of her dark hair, then quickly goes back to how she was, gently biting her bottom lip. Having the female in his sights now, he takes a long swig from his bottle then moves to the seat next to her and smiles, faint dimples in his cheeks. “Well, hey there, darlin’,” he says to her, with a slight southern twang.
“Hey there, yourself, handsome.” Despite her youthful appearance, the tone in her voice gives the impression that she may be older than she looks.
“Don’t ya think you’re a bit young to be in a place like this? Especially this late at night?” he asks, looking her over with his hazel eyes, his fingers lightly drumming on the neck of the bottle.
“If you’re worried about time, I don’t have a curfew to worry about. How old do you think I am, anyway?” she replies with another question, raising an eyebrow. She turns to face him, crossing her legs and causing the already short skirt to ride even higher up her thighs.
“I dunno. Eighteen or nineteen, probably.”
“You really know how to make a girl feel young.” She laughs. “I’m twenty-seven.”
“Yeah… sure, you’re twenty-seven.”
She pulls out a card from her small black purse and hands it to him. “Here’s my license, if you don’t believe me.”
He takes it from her and sees that she is indeed twenty-seven years of age. “Man, I’m sorry, uh…” he looks at the license again. “Heather.” He hands the license back to her, and she puts it back into her purse.
“It’s okay. Thinking that I’m younger than I am is nothing to be sorry for. What’s your name?” she asks, her blue eyes giving him the same scan that he gave her a moment ago.
“Will.” He takes her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet ya, Heather.”
“Oh, no, Will. The pleasure’s all mine,” she says with the corners of her mouth slightly curving upwards, revealing dimples of her own. When he releases her hand, she turns to face the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention but failing.
“Whaddaya drink?” He places a hand abruptly on her bare shoulder.
“Vampire Merlot.” She eyes his hand on her shoulder then looks to him with a skewed smile and a quarked brow.
His eyebrows rise as he is intrigued to hear the specific name of the wine. “Are ya sure ya won’t take a Bud?” he asks, getting the hint and removing the hand on her shoulder to finish off his beer.
“I’m not a beer kind of person, but I guess you are,” she responds, trying again to get the bartender.
“They probably don’t got that drink here, darlin’. It doesn’t sound like the generic type of wine that would be a big seller here.”
She turns back to him and says, “Well, it never hurts to ask, does it?” She finally gets the bartender’s attention and asks, “Can I get another Vampire Merlot, please?”
“You got it, Heather.” The bartender turns and gets a wine glass and the bottle, pours the wine, then hands it to her.
“Thanks, Jake.” She takes a sip of her wine while Will just stares at her with his own skewed smirk. She says to him between sips, “See? It never hurts to ask.” Turning to face him, she asks, “Have you ever been to The Edge before?” All of the other girls in the club immediately pulled him out to the dance floor by this point, but Heather is taking her time to have an actual conversation.
*It took me a while to find her, but I believe this will be a great conquest,* he thinks to himself before responding, “No, I actually just moved here from Georgia.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ve been movin’ my stuff into my new apartment all day, and I needed a break. A friend of mine who lives here suggested this place. I got most of my unpacking done, except all my kitchen junk.”
“And you came here to find a good time, huh?” she inquires, finishing her drink. She puts the glass back on the bar counter, takes Will’s hand, and leads him out to the middle of the crowded club. As the music inspires them, the predator and prey begin their dance. Unlike the other women in the club that turn their backs to him and grind their asses on his crotch, Heather keeps eye contact with him. Her hands move from his arms to lightly caress his neck up to remove his hat and play with his hair. His hands generally stay about her waist as it sways fluidly with the music, and his eyes wander up and down the curves of her body, catching sight of an Egyptian eye tattoo on her hip as her skirt rides a bit lower on her waist.
Then she moves closer to him, running her hand on his chest, and whispers into his ear, her lips barely grazing the edge of his ear, “Now that you’ve been to the Edge here, how about I take you to the edge and back at your place. Would you like that?”
His pulse and his breath quickening, he grins as he turns to face her, their lips nearly touching, as he replies back with a familiar question, “It never hurts to ask, does it?” His eyes stay on her ass as they both pay for their drinks and go out to his truck. She can barely see the license plate because of the dried mud that is splattered on the sides. He opens the door for her, but she has to grab a hold of the handle just inside the door to help get her inside since the tires themselves reach her mid-thigh. He can hardly concentrate on his driving while she is whispering sweet nothings in his ear and touching various parts of his body. He pulls into the parking lot of the apartment complex, but he is so eager to have her right then that they don’t even leave the truck.
She leans against her door and allows him to come over to her, spreading her legs apart so he can have a place to lie down. His hands grab whatever they can get a hold onto as he kisses her neck and chest, his breath panting in her ear. As he begins to pull down her dark green tube top and move lower, she gently pulls his face up to hers and kisses him deeply, her hands reaching up to take his hat off before running her fingers through and gripping his short blonde hair. He reacts by pushing against her harder, grinding his hips into hers. His fingers run through the loose curls of her dark auburn hair, and he says her name breathlessly as she kisses down his neck while she is moving her hands up his white t-shirt on his chest. She nibbles his neck, and he responds by moaning into her neck and grinding into her harder. As he begins to nibble on her neck, she bites into his skin, drinking his heated blood and moaning softly. He thinks nothing of her roughness until he begins to feel lightheaded. At the point when he finally realizes what she’s doing, he’s too weak to stop her. She stops drinking when his heartbeat slows and he slips into unconsciousness. After allowing the blood to flow through her body, she bites her tongue and licks the wound, making it heal instantly.
“Thanks for the bite, Will,” she says to the dozing man as she kisses him on the forehead. She whispers in his ear as she wipes the excess blood off of his neck: “You will forget this night happened between us. You went to the bar, came home alone, parked, and passed out before you went up to your apartment.” With that, she kisses him on the forehead again, grabs her purse, and walks back to her car, which is only a mile or so away. *Tonight was my last fling, she thinks, before I have to be a high school student again.*
**Note from the author**
This is my first original story, as I said before. I am looking for advice, but try to make it CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.
The Vampire,
Aldys Annabel Clairveux
This is my first original story that is going to be more than just a one shot, I hope. I am looking for advice, but try to make it CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. I think I have the prologue just the way I want it now, and yes, there is such a thing as Vampire Merlot... it's rather tasty. Again, if there is anything any reader could suggest, my ears are open to listen. Enjoy!
~The Vampire,
~ Aldys Annabel Clairveux
Prologue
Most days, mankind is content with its human institution of moral law and order. Then there are those nights, when the mad blood is stirring, that the suppressed primal urges flow through the veins of all living things. With the revving engine roaring in his ears, the blood of William Robert Caine flushes warm in his cheeks as he searches for his new hunting ground. His heart pounds in his chest and his calloused hands grip the steering wheel, making his knuckles turn white, as the neon glow of The Edge sign catches his eye and glares off of the hood of his fire-engine red truck. After pulling into the parking lot behind the club, he steps out of his truck and pulls on his faded, navy blue baseball cap. Then he shoves his hands into his jeans’ pockets as he makes his way to the club, the only sound in the side alley being the brush of his legs together and the muted pounding of the music inside that matches the beat of his work boots on the pavement.
He slinks in past a couple that is leaving at the same time then makes his way through the crowd, observing all the people engaging themselves in this tribal mating ritual called “dancing”. As he shoulders his way to the bar to get a drink, his eyes dart back and forth over the gyrating crowd to see if he can find a female that is to his liking. He orders a bottle of Budweiser as he sits on one of the stools at the counter. The songs that blare from the speakers meld together since they are all cloned from each other. In the couple hours following his arrival to the Edge, William finds that a lot of the females that he dances with seem to be cloned from each other as well. Even though some hair and clothing styles may differ from woman to woman, they are all using the same pick-up lines, talking with the same ear-piercing cuteness, and gyrating in the same rhythm and manner. He was beginning to think that his hunt would leave him empty-handed for the night… or at least empty-bedded.
When the bartender brings his tenth beer, a young-looking girl walks up to the bar a few seats down from his right. When he looks in her direction, she gives him the look: suggestive, yet shy, and can intrigue a man instantly. She slowly turns her head towards him, peeks at him between the curls of her dark hair, then quickly goes back to how she was, gently biting her bottom lip. Having the female in his sights now, he takes a long swig from his bottle then moves to the seat next to her and smiles, faint dimples in his cheeks. “Well, hey there, darlin’,” he says to her, with a slight southern twang.
“Hey there, yourself, handsome.” Despite her youthful appearance, the tone in her voice gives the impression that she may be older than she looks.
“Don’t ya think you’re a bit young to be in a place like this? Especially this late at night?” he asks, looking her over with his hazel eyes, his fingers lightly drumming on the neck of the bottle.
“If you’re worried about time, I don’t have a curfew to worry about. How old do you think I am, anyway?” she replies with another question, raising an eyebrow. She turns to face him, crossing her legs and causing the already short skirt to ride even higher up her thighs.
“I dunno. Eighteen or nineteen, probably.”
“You really know how to make a girl feel young.” She laughs. “I’m twenty-seven.”
“Yeah… sure, you’re twenty-seven.”
She pulls out a card from her small black purse and hands it to him. “Here’s my license, if you don’t believe me.”
He takes it from her and sees that she is indeed twenty-seven years of age. “Man, I’m sorry, uh…” he looks at the license again. “Heather.” He hands the license back to her, and she puts it back into her purse.
“It’s okay. Thinking that I’m younger than I am is nothing to be sorry for. What’s your name?” she asks, her blue eyes giving him the same scan that he gave her a moment ago.
“Will.” He takes her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet ya, Heather.”
“Oh, no, Will. The pleasure’s all mine,” she says with the corners of her mouth slightly curving upwards, revealing dimples of her own. When he releases her hand, she turns to face the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention but failing.
“Whaddaya drink?” He places a hand abruptly on her bare shoulder.
“Vampire Merlot.” She eyes his hand on her shoulder then looks to him with a skewed smile and a quarked brow.
His eyebrows rise as he is intrigued to hear the specific name of the wine. “Are ya sure ya won’t take a Bud?” he asks, getting the hint and removing the hand on her shoulder to finish off his beer.
“I’m not a beer kind of person, but I guess you are,” she responds, trying again to get the bartender.
“They probably don’t got that drink here, darlin’. It doesn’t sound like the generic type of wine that would be a big seller here.”
She turns back to him and says, “Well, it never hurts to ask, does it?” She finally gets the bartender’s attention and asks, “Can I get another Vampire Merlot, please?”
“You got it, Heather.” The bartender turns and gets a wine glass and the bottle, pours the wine, then hands it to her.
“Thanks, Jake.” She takes a sip of her wine while Will just stares at her with his own skewed smirk. She says to him between sips, “See? It never hurts to ask.” Turning to face him, she asks, “Have you ever been to The Edge before?” All of the other girls in the club immediately pulled him out to the dance floor by this point, but Heather is taking her time to have an actual conversation.
*It took me a while to find her, but I believe this will be a great conquest,* he thinks to himself before responding, “No, I actually just moved here from Georgia.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ve been movin’ my stuff into my new apartment all day, and I needed a break. A friend of mine who lives here suggested this place. I got most of my unpacking done, except all my kitchen junk.”
“And you came here to find a good time, huh?” she inquires, finishing her drink. She puts the glass back on the bar counter, takes Will’s hand, and leads him out to the middle of the crowded club. As the music inspires them, the predator and prey begin their dance. Unlike the other women in the club that turn their backs to him and grind their asses on his crotch, Heather keeps eye contact with him. Her hands move from his arms to lightly caress his neck up to remove his hat and play with his hair. His hands generally stay about her waist as it sways fluidly with the music, and his eyes wander up and down the curves of her body, catching sight of an Egyptian eye tattoo on her hip as her skirt rides a bit lower on her waist.
Then she moves closer to him, running her hand on his chest, and whispers into his ear, her lips barely grazing the edge of his ear, “Now that you’ve been to the Edge here, how about I take you to the edge and back at your place. Would you like that?”
His pulse and his breath quickening, he grins as he turns to face her, their lips nearly touching, as he replies back with a familiar question, “It never hurts to ask, does it?” His eyes stay on her ass as they both pay for their drinks and go out to his truck. She can barely see the license plate because of the dried mud that is splattered on the sides. He opens the door for her, but she has to grab a hold of the handle just inside the door to help get her inside since the tires themselves reach her mid-thigh. He can hardly concentrate on his driving while she is whispering sweet nothings in his ear and touching various parts of his body. He pulls into the parking lot of the apartment complex, but he is so eager to have her right then that they don’t even leave the truck.
She leans against her door and allows him to come over to her, spreading her legs apart so he can have a place to lie down. His hands grab whatever they can get a hold onto as he kisses her neck and chest, his breath panting in her ear. As he begins to pull down her dark green tube top and move lower, she gently pulls his face up to hers and kisses him deeply, her hands reaching up to take his hat off before running her fingers through and gripping his short blonde hair. He reacts by pushing against her harder, grinding his hips into hers. His fingers run through the loose curls of her dark auburn hair, and he says her name breathlessly as she kisses down his neck while she is moving her hands up his white t-shirt on his chest. She nibbles his neck, and he responds by moaning into her neck and grinding into her harder. As he begins to nibble on her neck, she bites into his skin, drinking his heated blood and moaning softly. He thinks nothing of her roughness until he begins to feel lightheaded. At the point when he finally realizes what she’s doing, he’s too weak to stop her. She stops drinking when his heartbeat slows and he slips into unconsciousness. After allowing the blood to flow through her body, she bites her tongue and licks the wound, making it heal instantly.
“Thanks for the bite, Will,” she says to the dozing man as she kisses him on the forehead. She whispers in his ear as she wipes the excess blood off of his neck: “You will forget this night happened between us. You went to the bar, came home alone, parked, and passed out before you went up to your apartment.” With that, she kisses him on the forehead again, grabs her purse, and walks back to her car, which is only a mile or so away. *Tonight was my last fling, she thinks, before I have to be a high school student again.*
**Note from the author**
This is my first original story, as I said before. I am looking for advice, but try to make it CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.
The Vampire,
Aldys Annabel Clairveux