The Courier: Chapter 16

Vol. 1; Issue 16
by Melissa

Lillian watched the crimson blood as it created a thick pool on the stark white tiles of the kitchen floor. The contrast of the two colors, as well as the growing puddle of red liquid, held her transfixed.

There was so much blood, it just kept flowing from what seemed like everywhere. Even Rutherford didn’t bleed this much and he got shot in the throat, which is kind of the same thing as being shot in the head.

She couldn’t pull her gaze away from Rosie and all the gore.

In horror, she watched as the body began to wither and turn to dust.

What the FUCK was going on here?

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lillian tried to rationalize that she was, most likely, in shock. That must be why she was seeing crazy things like unending amounts of blood and rapidly decomposing bodies.

What she didn’t understand was why she shot Rosie. It hadn’t been in her control, she hadn’t even felt like herself. It was as if she had lost all influence of her senses, someone else was in her mental drivers seat. She looked at the gun, still warm from use.

She was not a murderer. Hell, she avoided stepping on ants whenever possible.

But what was this thing that she killed, which was now nothing more than a large pile of an ashy looking substance? There was nothing that was even remotely identical to human. Even the blood had turned black and dried up into ash.

She looked around the tiny apartment expectantly, her mouth forcing a cheerful smile in anticipation for a camera crew to pop out of a closet to announce that she’d been Punk’d.

This was too strange to be real.

Shit like this only happened on T.V or in books.

Lillian needed a drink. Badly. With a glass of wine to calm her, perhaps she could figure out what was happening and plan her next move.

Carefully stepping over what remained of Rosie, Lillian opened the fridge to inspect the contents.

“Of course.” She said out loud to herself sarcastically, “Why wouldn’t Rosie have anything but pints of blood in here?”

“Toss me a bag of that, won’t you?” a deep, male voice called out to her from the other room.

That voice, she had heard it before.

Damien.

She wheeled around and found herself nose to nose with the monster.

He smiled, his teeth so white they seemed to glow “Excuse me dear.” He reached around her and grabbed a pint of blood, puncturing it with a sharp incisor and began to drink the way a child would from a juice pouch, the whole time, keeping his eyes on Lillian.

Vampires! But yet, why did she not seem as shocked as she knew she should feel? It was though a part of her knew this whole time.

Lillian was frozen in place, her arms and legs felt like stone, so heavy and making it impossible to try to run.

When Damien was done drinking, he dabbed the sides of his mouth with a kerchief and looked her up and down, licking his lips seductively. Everything he did was seductive and alluring, his looks, his voice. Everything about him was trying to get her to want him.

“So, you killed our Rosie, eh?” He raised one eyebrow as he gazed at her lecherously. “It’s a shame really, she was so useful and such a willing fuck.”

He moved closer to Lillian, his eyes looking deeply into hers. She could feel him in her head, whispering, laughing seductively.

Between her legs betrayed her, he was so powerful. So sexual.

She was ready for him already.

“You’ll have to do. Again.” With one hand, he gently touched her breast as he licked along her carotid artery.

“Don’t you remember, Lillian?” he whispered into her ear, catching her lobe and sucking on it.

“Remember what?” she was lost in the sensation of his thumb rubbing her nipple erect.

“Am I not at all familiar to you? We are not strangers in any sense of the word.”

She opened her eyes, trying to gain control over her body and her mind.

He just felt so good as her hand ran over his stiffness that was causing the front of his pants to tighten.

His whispers in her mind were drowning out her own internal voices of rationale.

Primitively, her body took over and she submitted to the sensations, the ecstasy of his hands and mouth on her body.

Damien picked Lillian up and carried her to the bedroom. He ripped her clothes off and ravaged her, her cries of passion were louder than any gunshot.

He may be a horrendous, blood-sucking monster who kidnapped her sister but Damien was the most tender, giving lover she ever had. She couldn’t get enough of his touches and licks. Her body arched as she rode each wave.

What seemed like many intense hours later, Damien moaned and shuddered, which brought her to climax again.

He collapsed on top of her and she felt him suckling on her neck.

She pushed him away and he laughed good-naturedly.

“Do you remember me now?” he looked at her, one eyebrow cocked again.

She did but she didn’t want to admit it. She remembered everything about the first time she met Damien a few months back. The bar, the drinks he bought her, how incredible the sex was. Just like it was again tonight.

He just smiled triumphantly. He was in her mind, she didn’t have to say a word.