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Demon Vampire Chapter One Excerpt. This is from the 10.17.2010 draft of the book. Please try to contain yourselves, the rest of the book will be just as good.
The Abomination and A Tainted Whisper
So sweet is the wet rain flowing through the throat of life. Kissing the sky, a nimble tongue tithes over a sharp tooth. He is hungry. The demon inside drips with excitement. This will be his first. Wet senses, tense thoughts play in his mind. He leans in. Her neck warm, tender, ready for penetration.
His hand grips her delicate left shoulder. She sighs from the pressure laid down upon her. A medium brown wool sweater is all that keeps the barrier between the touch. His skin light, a contrast to her tanned olive tone. He stands slightly taller, nearly six feet to her thin five foot eight frame. Her face oval, feminine. A transparent gloss to her lips, wet and perched. Her green eyes adding detail to her perfect expression. She is attracted to him. His aesthetic build appealing to her. Black eyes shielded with thorns in shadow gaze upon her. His strength is obvious to her. His mid length wavy dark brown hair wisping in the sudden breeze. The clouds above were about to tear open.
The field adjacent to them offered little cover to the events that both of them anticipated. It was going to happen, she knew that, she wanted it. He pressed into her. She felt the hard bark push into her behind. Pitting her back with a unique sensation that was oddly pleasurable. This was her time to enjoy him. After many nights of catering to his whims, she was able to purely experience the act.
Her long straight brown hair shifted back, exposing her supple veins in the wind. “This is what I want.” Her voice almost silent, loud only to his ears. She was panting, waiting, wishing for it.
A streak of lightning set fire to the night. Illuminating the privacy they had sought out so carefully. The field was large, extending as far as their eyes would let it. In an instant, everything went black.
Before he could answer, the demon within had spoken. His fingertips moved on their own. Stripping the fabric away from his sight. Her flesh intoxicating, he grasped the back of her neck with intention. His right hand cradling her slender neck. The once gentle fingertips drove into her. She tensed, letting the pain subside to her newfound pleasure. His face caressed hers in a moment of embrace. A kiss led to his tongue drawing a line to her throat. His fangs wet, sharp, he entered her.
Breathing quickly, rapidly to the feeling. Red fresh blood flows. Soaking, flooding the once dry clothing remaining. Her bra the only intact article concealing her breasts, the liquid cascaded down her chest. Her thick, long black skirt absorbing the pain. Her breath heavy, she sighed in ecstasy. Her arms wrapped around his back, she loved it.
The demon spoke without words. She heard his voice in her blood. “You are the sacrifice that will culminate my rebirth.”
He smiled as he drank her life. She shifted her hips towards his, attempting to connect them further. He pulled her left leg up high, tight and close to him. Her quiet moans filling his keen ears with music. He pinned her to the tree.
This was exactly what she had wanted. Something more than the normal vampire. A difference in power, influence, that could be felt. A demon among nightmares.
He continued to devour her blood. She tried to ask him to stop, her mouth dry, unable to speak. Her arms began to fail her, falling to her sides as he kept drinking her. It was terrifying her, yet it was enticing her. It felt good. The intensity climbed washing over her as he bore deeper. She stared into his eyes as she lost consciousness. Torrential rain came as her eyes closed. It wet their bodies through the filter of the tree. The blood spilled, mixing into the roots. This was not unpleasant in her mind, only unexpected.
He had consumed her life whole. Her body stood soulless and broken. He eased back to reveal her torn neck, flopping to one side. Her stained skin void of life, he held her in place. His eyes examined her up and down. She was beautiful after all. His tastes were appeased. “Amber from the vein.” His voice dark and piercing.
The night bled, the glass moon high in the heavens. He set her, propped against the tree where she lost her virgin life. A storm descended, damning him. Wind rustling the leaves, throwing her tattered clothing from her. She lay there, the flesh that was once a person who trusted him.
There was a small seemingly insignificant remnant, willing to accept the evil he was doing here. Convincing him the blood was necessary, that she had to die, that she wanted it. It was persuading him to eat, to feast and siege conquest on the world for more. It whispered softly to the dreamer inside of him, it influenced this dream, this vision of things to come. His voice echoed through his lips, staring at her with his guilt. “This is what you are. The intriguing flavors you secretly salivate and intensely enjoy.” He smiled, it was becoming a part of him. It did taste like milk, silky and quenching to his stomach.
Viewing the once vibrant youth, ravaged before him. It was done. Inside he enjoyed the depravity, sweetly craved it, yearned for it.
The red apparition in the back of his thoughts somehow soothing and calming. It was speaking to him directly. A deep murderous growling rumble. He could hear it above the crackling thunder coursing over the field. “The vast ocean of power I can grant you. The encompassing absolution of being I offer, to walk without equal in a land of twisted horrors and tempting monsters. Am I truly so disgusting? Do I not tempt you? Do I not wet your palette with my invitation?”
Fear swept him, his choices were not his own. The warm blanket of seduction that was cloaking him was convincing. It was generously welcoming. He hesitated, not knowing this demon's destination or his own.
“Let it happen, give yourself to me. All you ever have to do is agree with me. Your soul will satisfy my desires. Rip, tear, rend, and swallow the blood like milk.” The demon inside beckoned with a sadistic thought.
He was unsure, the deal was tempting, even acceptable in a sick flight of fancy. He was not a murderer. He knew as much, he knew enough to doubt his own integrity. It was tempting, wet in his mouth.
The voice posed it's question. It's confidence unrelenting. “Is my simple price so steep, so dire and costly that you would die a fool's death to deny what fate has allowed me to etch into the stars?”
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