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| Hollowed Soul |
London, England ~ 1769AD
It was a warm night in the month of June, a night filled with the scent of honeysuckle and wet earth, for rain had been falling throughout the day…ahh…but the night...the night was meant for roaming, it was meant for the hunt! Lady Lilith smiles graciously into the dark eyes of the gentleman who offered to help her into the waiting carriage, his gaze sweeping the empty interior waiting for an invitation. Her full skirts brushing against the man’s legs while taking his hand, stepping up and settling into the richly appointed leather seat. Turning her head slightly to acknowledge his polite presence, she let her sapphire gems dance with delight in anticipation of witnessing his utter disappointment. She skillfully fluffed the long black dress of silk, smoothing imaginary wrinkles with a wave of her hand. Leaning forward from her seat to brush lips against his ear...warm breath of a whisper…” Alas Sir Martin, perhaps we shall meet again. One never knows when, until given the opportunity.” She manages a modest blush befitting a lady of her class, as she quickly closes the carriage door. Stunned at his dismissal, Lord Martin blinked rapidly in his agitation. He was a man not used to being denied. He began to mildly protest, hoping to cajole this beautiful woman into compliance, before realizing his name had slipped from her lips. He knew he had never given her his name, having accosted her on the curb to offer his services. She was a stranger to him, yet she obviously knew who he was. Curious, he raised the walking cane which was always readily at hand and rapped on the carriage door…” Wait! A moment my lady. How do you know me?? Are we acquainted?” Obvious confusion reigning over his handsome features. She merely laughs at his discomfort, dismissing the gentleman with a flick of a scented fan. Pursing lips, anger flaring in the blue depths of her eyes, she raises a delicate brow and whispers...“thanks once more dear Sir for all your assistance this eve.” Leaning her head slightly out the window to call out to her driver, she inhales deeply to calm her inner demons, reveling in the scents and sounds of the night. Sir Martin is unaware of what a lucky man he was. The carriage wheels clattered over several cobbled streets of London, rocking its lone occupant, her fan in constant motion as she peers through the small window. Sapphire eyes scanning store fronts, vacant lots, rowdy bars, cemeteries and dark tenet building, searching for her prey. The night drags on and her patience is thinning. Wait! There...its...there...heart quickening in excitement, nostrils flaring as a scent is finally picked up. The hunt is over! Ruby lips parting as the hunger in her belly rises. Rapping sharply on the roof of the carriage with the fan, a signal to stop immediately; the driver calls out to the horses, staying them easily. A deep shudder of fear sweeping through him at the sound of the carriage door opening. Lady Lilith swiftly descends, holding her skirts high, her face flushed with anticipation of the feed. Dismissing the driver for now, the carriage moves on to return within the hour. The driver is quite familiar with his employer's nightlife and doesn't hesitate to take his leave. She spies her victim, an old female stumbling around in a dark alley. This particular female is rather inebriated according to the scent emanating from it's pores. The area it was wandering in happens to be a very dismal playground of the poor. Those humans who often settled in darkness to imbibe their addiction, whether it being drugs or alcohol. Lady Lilith is very familiar with the location and smiles to herself, knowing it would be days before the body is found. She moves quickly… so quickly that the human eye is fooled into seeing nothing, coming up close to her prey, inhaling a rankness about its flesh that brings a deep frown to her lovely features. Really!! Humans should be forced to learn about body cleanliness from the cradle. A bare dab here and there of crushed flowers doesn’t do the job as well as bathing fully in their lush fragrance mixed with lots of hot water! Her poor quarry hesitates for a moment, fear making itself known, much as a deer sensing the lion. It doesn't understand the signals it's inebriated brain is attempting to send. Fear? Of what? Glancing around, it's drunken state keeping eyes from clearly focusing. It sees nothing, hears nothing...yet just in case, waves off whatever ghosts that may be haunting the alley. Stealing a hand into the pocket of it's skirt to withdraw a small bottle of rye, raising the bottle to take a long sip and almost falling against a brick wall. Catching movement out of the corner of her eye...what was that? Another stab of fear, deeper than before, causing a loss of balance, stumbling forward to it's knees. Blinking back sudden tears, shaking it's head to clear the cobwebs, heart beating like a trapped bird within it's chest, threatening to explode from behind a cage of ribs…calling out...” Who??? Who is there? What do you want?” words slurring as more guzzles are taken from the bottle. Nearly folding to a sitting state, succumbing to the numbing effects of large amounts of rye, head tilting back, peeking through gummy eyelids into the mesmerizing gaze of the most beautiful angel it has ever seen... gasping out... “Who…are…you?” She can smell the female's fear, hear the pounding beat of it's heart, the steady throb of blood pulsing through engorged veins. Fear carries a sweet intoxication of its own, overpowering, seductive…making her salivate. She focuses her glittering eyes on the thick vein in the neck, fascinated at the site of the ebb and flow of blood. The hunger rising swiftly, demanding to be appeased…the voices of madmen throughout the centuries screaming in hungry anguish, urging her forward. Snarling in her hunger, she swings her hand to snag the tangled, dirty brown tresses, yanking her prey off it's knees, while her other hand closes tightly around the slim column of a neck. Fangs distended, she leans down to lick a spot clean on the dirt stained throat before placing a soft kiss on a vein of blue. Drawing her head back slightly she smiles...enjoying the squirm and writhe of her captured prey as it hangs helplessly in her tight grip. Pressing a sharp talon against a beating artery, she severs it completely and parts her lips to fully revel in the resulting spurt that splashes her lips, fills her mouth...gulping down the coppery tasting fluid of life. Screams fill the alley just as fangs slash, leaving a gaping wound as blood flows freely, copiously soaking the lace bodice and skirt of her silky gown. The sweet smell of death rising to waft tenuously, filling the air, raising her blood lust, encouraging her to dine with feral ferocity, taking more blood than was necessary. The silence is deafening. Dropping the body and wiping the back of her hand across ruby stained lips, she pauses for a moment to gauge her thoughts. There is no guilt, nor remorse for the kill. The hunt wasn't satisfying, devoid of the thrill of the old days…only being necessary for her own needs. She misses the chase, the way humans taste when their blood runs hot from exertion. How they run and try to hide...such an intoxicating scent of blood and sweat. It can be more pleasurable than sex! Does that make her a monster? Even more interesting, does she care? A few minutes later she comes to the same conclusion as always...she doesn't care...life is all about survival and she has been a survivor for a very long time. She sighs while gazing at her elegant blood smeared fingers, shrugging shoulders, begins licking each digit clean. The lukewarm meal gratifying to whatever remains of her empty, hollowed soul. She stiffens, feeling another's presence nearby. Running the pink tip of her tongue over her fangs, she fully turns to narrow her gaze, seeking his form from the shadows. A trickle of electricity jolting through her full belly, limbs warm with the gift of life, her skin glowing with a soft flush of rose. Ah, he always makes her feel...human. “Darling…I’ve saved some for you.” Ripe red lips curling into a smile, the tips of her incisors barely showing against her lower lip, glittering sapphire eyes meeting rich dark ones, as her fingers smooth the layers of lace across her bloody bodice. The hooded dark one steps closer to the discarded body, giving it a nudge with the toe of his boot. His lips curve into a slight smile at her words. “A rather cold offering my love.” A curious tilt of his head, carefully perusing the lovely lady before reaching to caress her flushed cheek with the palm of his hand. “You know I prefer to drink from the source.” He lowers his head to sample her stained lips, flicking a tongue over the droplets of ruby that trickle down her chin. Sliding his hand around her neck, pulling her closer, drinking deeper from the well of her mouth, feeling the pulse of her heart, the shuddering of her body against his hard frame. Sweet sigh of poignant release, getting lost in his kiss, the flames of passion rising between them…for centuries it has endured, burning brighter with each passing moment. She sways closer with an intimate press of her body to his…wanting him, needing him. Tongue dancing within the warm confines of his mouth, twirling around his own, beckoning him to her warm, wet playground. He inhales the sweet scent of his beloved, thick fingers stealing through the strands of her hair, pulling it down from its carefully coiled state, curls tumbling over creamy shoulders. Tearing his mouth away from her lovely mouth, pushing her back against the cold brick of the building, gazing into her eyes, his hand reaching down to gather the rustling lace of her dress, pulling it up to expose the creamy expanse of her legs. His head lowers once more, cold lips steal over the warm flesh of her throat, nuzzling, lapping softly with the flat of his tongue, enjoying every quiver of her body against his. A soft prick of his fangs, the warm rich fluid filling his mouth...her gift to him. He seals the small wound with a kiss along with a gentle tease of his tongue over her healed flesh. "You have done well my love..." he whispers hoarsely against her throat..."ready for our next adventure?"
He is
teasing her. She knows he will not accompany her on any adventure nor share her bed or his life...yet, she doesn't care. She knows tomorrow is just beyond midnight, with new prey to hunt and a million years to enjoy and wander this beautiful earth. There are many paths to travel, many men to conquer and make her own. That was his gift to her. ♥
A Touch of Lacie ~ |
© Copyright 2005 Lacie -- All rights reserved.
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An excerpt from a short story I wrote many moons ago. Have a safe and happy Halloween!!
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Credits:
Tube: "Gretel" by ©Goldwasser
Scrap Kit: I'm So Hollow" by Dees'Sign Depot
Mask: Miz_Mask_152 by Mizteeques
