Photograph courtesy of http://mollysdailykiss.com
Twilight
‘I’m hungry.’
‘Well, there’s any number of wannabe victims out there
lusting after your sensitive brand of murderousness.'
Two figures sat high on an office window ledge looking down
on a concrete underpass. You could have seen them if you looked up, sitting
side by side, in faded rock star denim and leather. No one ever looks up.
The first vampire sniffed in distain, tucking a strand of dirty
blond hair behind his ear with delicate fingers.
‘I’ve had enough of swooning waifs flinging themselves at
me. To be honest I could do with something meatier.’
His friend sniggered.
‘I’m sure all their mummies would be happy to oblige too.’
‘I was thinking more along the lines of a bit of a
challenge. Someone with a little spirit. Maybe someone like her.’ He nodded
towards a woman far below, dressed in scant summer clothing and Converse,
busily graffitiing the underpass wall. Her adrenaline and excitement blew
towards them on the summer air and both creatures shifted on their perch. She
wasn’t young, this woman, not the average scruffy teen they were used to seeing
spraying tags around like territorial cats. They watched the bulge of her
muscles in her arm as it swept over the wall, the tiny clang as she dropped her
cans in the backpack at her feet.
‘I don’t think you want any of that.’ He
nodded towards a figure who stood watching her.’ C’mon.’
They hadn’t seen the
woman kiss her boyfriend as he left for work, and scamper inside to change her
clothes and pack her bag before heading out purposefully, bare legs striding
into the summer evening. She didn’t see him pull out of a side road and follow,
keeping a careful distance so as to remain undiscovered. Now he watched from
behind her, dark uniform blending with the shadows. She stood back to assess
her artwork, stretching to rub her lower spine.
As she did so, he stepped up behind her, reaching through her
arms to pin them behind her. One large hand closed on her throat.
‘You’re nicked, sweetheart.’
The woman froze, the started to struggle wildly. At the hint
of movement, the policeman stepped forward, pushing her up against the wall
with a thud. Wet paint smeared on her chest and cheek. He moved his hand around
to tug at the choker she wore around her neck.
‘Really? You wear this to break a promise?’ She started to
speak. ‘Shut up.’
He reached between her and the rough wall and jerked her
stretchy white top down over her breasts, baring them to the cold, paint-dampened
wall. He pulled his nightstick out and pressed it to the back of her neck,
holding her in place with the cold metal while he drew her skimpy skirt up,
trailing his fingers between her thighs and through the plump divide of her
cunt and ass as he went.
‘Up against the wall. Spread,’ he leaned in and sneered in
her ear. She complied. The watchers high above moved in the distance, one briefly
placing a hand on the chest of his friend as the pump of the woman’s heart
reached them, the sound entwining with the fresh musk of her cunt.
‘You think you’re so clever,’ bit out the policeman, as he
ran the baton down her back and pushed its tip between her exposed cheeks. ‘You
thought you wouldn’t get caught? Or you’d get what you wanted?’ He pressed
harder and her breath poured out in a grunt. ‘Like being on your knees on the
concrete with my cock down your throat isn’t your favourite thing. But it’s
going to be a long night.’ He moved in closer and her cry carried to the two
figures moving away at speed, moved to start their own hunt.
