His flesh is pierced. The sharp hard fangs enter his skin. A penetration of not only body, but soul. More intimate than a man entering a woman. More
primal. More spiritual. Pain... Pleasure... Pain... Pleasure... Pain and pleasure mixed together. Like a supernatural rum and coke. A rare type of
pheromone wafts sweetly about the room. Sweat mixed with blood and the smell of fornication.
The long haired man, fangs deep in his neck, moans in ecstasy. Wet hot sticky blood. Shoots out of the long haired man and into the wonderful
seductress that has become his everything. His reason for existing. He is being drained of life and loving every second of it. He does not know who he
is anymore. Why he is here. He just knows it makes him happy. Giving in. Succumbing to the temptation of losing control. Giving someone everything he
is, everything he has, everything they want.
He gives all of himself to the essence of beauty that has captivated him. Every emotion he has ever felt. Every laugh, every tear. All the good times.
The cold nights spent underneath the stars, watching the wind blow between the bare tree branches, while his father passes him a beer. All the bad
times. His ex wife screaming in his face about being laid off and about how her pills and manicures won't pay for themselves, while his daughter
watches and cries from another room. Every thought and memory. Everything he was and could be. His mind. His body. His soul. It all flows through the
blood into the beautiful goddess.
Just before the last of the blood is consumed. What has become his life pulls out. Her fangs plop out of the mans neck. She licks the wound her fangs
have caused. Healing it instantly. The goddess begins to passionately kiss the long haired man. The man tastes copper as their tongues touch. Copper,
and what he imagines manna from heaven tastes like. His love, her hands move swiftly all over the mans body. To the man, it feels like a thousand
hands are caressing him. His heart beats ever so faster. The blood that was not taken. That is left in the mans body. Will be filled with the
adrenaline endorphins that cause pleasure. Making the blood taste oh so sweet.
Then the goddess is gone. Whispers fill the air. To soft to make out. All the shadows in the room begin to move and dance. The long haired mans
shadow. The shadow of the chair the man sits on. The shadows of all the broken doll heads that litter the room. Strewn about as if a mad child was
trying to use what skills their wandering mind had to recreate the catacombs beneath Paris. As all the varied terrifying shadows dance, the whispers
are replaced by laughter. Children's laughter, or perhaps the laughter of the broken dolls. After the laughter subsides, the dancing shadows begin to
sing. They sing in a language no man can speak. They sing a dark sad song. Of lust and loss and needs unfulfilled. A song that would make the devil
When the song is over. A new shadow appears on the wall in front of the man. This shadow begins to walk towards the long haired man. With every step
the shadow takes, it becomes more solid, more real. Until finally, a woman whose beauty is beyond compare stands before the man. A seductress of the
highest order. A woman who can be all things to all men. Who oozes sensuality and sex appeal. A woman who is naked and covered in blood. A woman who
is everything to the long haired man. His drug of choice. His goddess.
The man with the long hair smiles as his eyes take in his one and only goddess. From her perfect piercing eyes, which he can stare into forever. Down
to her ruby red lips, which clash with her pale skin, that he imagines tastes like honey. Down to her altar of womanhood, what he would give to
worship at her feet. Down to her exquisite toes, perfectly shaped. The smell of her arousal enters his nostrils. Her raw sensuality and power,
overpower him. He begins to cry in joy. This is perfection personified he thinks. He was born for her, he now knows.
His entire life has led up to this moment. This woman. This princess of shadows. She moves like a panther. Like an animal stalking prey. She puts her
hand on the mans cheek and gently strokes. This is enough to overwhelm every nerve in his body. The princess of shadows smiles. The man with the long
hair is ready. His blood has been made perfect. So she quickly moves to drain the rest of the blood. Her lips so soft and delicate, but also strong.
Suck and swallow every last drop. Until life drains from the long haired mans body.
When she finishes. She gently and reverently lets go of the object that contained her sustenance. She is a princess of shadows. Royalty of darkness. A
God to gods. Since the days of Babylon, she has fed this way. She takes what she needs from her worshipers, from the source of their power. This is
how her maker taught her to feed. As the last of her makers children. It is up to her to keep this old tradition alive in these modern nights.
One of the princess of shadows servants. Comes into the room through a window. Faster than a humans eye can see. If the man with the long hair was
still alive. It would appear to him as if the worshiper had just magically appeared. The worshiper is wearing a black cloak with a small oval silver
clasp containing a mirror. When the mirror is looked into, at just the right angle. The person looking would see what they fear most in life. From
hideous monsters to dizzying heights to simple household pests such as spiders. Whatever darkness brings fear to the soul of the beholder.
“Princess of shadows. Mistress of darkness. Ruler of all she sees. I your lowly servant, am sorry for interrupting your glory. But the perimeter has
been broken. Five blocks from here, three of my sclavus have been killed and a fourth is dying. From his mind. I have seen what killed the others. The
little ones have followed us out of southeast Asia. I have tried to contact the sclavus patrols of your other servants. None have opened their minds
to me. I fear the worst. I fear the Tiyanak are making a move on us. Now that I have said what I set out to say. You may kill me for interrupting the
ceremony, or let me live as you please my goddess,” says the servant in the black cloak.
The princess of shadows does neither. Instead, she brings her right wrist to her mouth and uses her teeth to rip her own skin off. She puts her
bleeding wrist over the mouth of the dead man with the long hair. Willing the wound to stay open and give life. At first nothing happens. The blood
just drips into his mouth. As more blood drips into him. It begins to merge with his body. Animating his bones and rearranging the neural pathways of
his brain. A part of her darkness enters him. She replaces the hole where his soul used to be, with her gift, with her love.
His eyes shoot open and he begins to suckle ravenously on the princess of shadows wrist. Like a newborn on his mothers breast. The princess of
shadows, purrs with delight. She gives herself to him. Like he has given himself to her. Pleasure flows into her, her body starts to shake. The whole
room and building shake with her. When she can take no more. She throws the man with the long hair away from her. He slams into a wall with force,
scattering the little broken doll heads in his bodies path.
edit on 10-4-2016 by karmicecstasy because: (no reason given)