Alone in the Night

The moon shone brightly tonight. A huge white disk in the sky offset by the black drapery of a starry sky. An eye watching all below it.

It was a fitting night, he decided.

Un-traditional black gloves hugged his fingers loosely, the hand not formally behind his back rubbing the smooth cobblestone of the windowsill. Nights like this were usually lonely for him, nothing but the chirping of crickets, hoots of lone owls, their beady yellow eyes asking the same question he always asked himself. Why you? "Why me indeed..." he mumbled with a snarl, nails biting through is gloves to the cobble. He'd grown to hate it, the sucking void, nothing but a black hole of the same routine. Night after night, always the same.

He was always alone.

He could never remember much of his old life; how he became this way. Was he born into this curse? Did a witch have a grudge against his family? Brooding eyes cast to the village, shadowed by his residence. They were always below, judging, so purely oblivious to the truth. Perhaps a rumor or two was true, but none of them knew the real story.

A banging echoed off the stone walls, permeating the wood of a heavy door. He sighed, rubbing his temples. Was she already this ancy? Heavy boots clicked against the stone floor, the rustle of a large cape billowing behind him. His approach would be so noticeable, had he not been unnaturally light on his feet. The irony always amused him.

"I'd suggest tonin' i' down in there," he said with a smirk, "Bad things happen tae noisy lasses."

A muffled whimper was his response, and he was sure she was crying. He made a face. Of course she would be, all of them did. He was a monster, after-all.

He had the door opened and shut before she had a chance to look, and her eyes were laced with fear. He was behind her though, his lips gently against her ear. A soft caress.

"Boo."

She stiffened and screeched against the tight cloth in her mouth, struggling against her bonds that kept her strapped to a chair. He could smell her salty tears, and his tongue had already snaked out, a mind of its own as it licked the tears from under one eye. He loved the pink that rose on her cheeks. She was so real, so radiant, so alive. It would have been more enjoyable, had it been real want. "Shhh....quiet lass..." he purred against her cheek, verdant eyes flashing up to a shaking pair. He knew what he did to women, it was natural for his kind. Easy seduction, easy prey; in story books since the beginning of time. But she was a fighter, this girl, unfortunately for her it only made her more appealing.

He heard the same muffled sentence against the cloth, one that she'd repeated ever since he'd locked her away here. It was incoherent, but he knew what it meant. "Please let me go." Why would he do that? So she could run screaming, escaping from the monster? Tell the rest of the village to come and burn him in his home?

No, Iain would have none of that.

"Nae." He said simply, casually. She made a sob of hopeless distress, making his pale lips pull back from his teeth.

Razor-sharp teeth.

"Ye should never have trespassed here lass...." he cooed, his fingers dancing up her side. "Maybe then ye could have gone home today..." That only made her sob more, but Iain's face hardened to a mask. He was used to the sobs, the pleads. His heart was hardened now. None of them cared about him. Why should he return the favor?

Because of the real monsters, this girl would die tonight.

A hiss slipped from his throat, hot breath hitting her neck. She only struggled more, thrashing like a caged animal, tears like a sprung leak. His lips slowly moved back into place, a look of distaste masking his features when he saw blood pouring from her wrist. She wanted to get away that bad...

He gave an angry snarl. "Stop tha', lass. It's nae going tae help y-" He was cut off by a shriek, and a skull-splitting glare. ....Heh. She sure had spunk, if nothing else.

"I. Said. STOP!" His pupils dialated, something inhuman. His roar made her jump back with wide eyes, and just like that, she was trembling again. He could hear her begging again, but his eyes were on something else. He bent to one knee, and with a flash, the rope holding one hand to the chair was cut. He gripped her wrist tightly, inhaling with pleasure as he pressed the wound to his lips. A different, fresh horror was in her eyes, but that didn't stop him. Half-lidded eyes met hers, smooth as butter, and his sucks against her wrist were slow, hot. The girl was finding it hard to think. This was his art, what he did best. The reason why he was hated.

He registered the moan from behind her cloth, and smirked. There was always pleasure for the victim, a war with their minds. They hated loving a monster sucking them dry. He usually found the confusion delightful to watch. His tongue expertly dragged over the cut, returning to his mouth in an instant, emerald eyes gleaming.

Save, they weren't emerald anymore. Red always frothed his eyes when he fed.

"Y-you can't do this....." He blinked in surprise. So she'd gotten the cloth off? Feisty girl. Iain always enjoyed them feisty. 'Oh?" He snaked up her body, too-close to not be intimate, but far too menacing to be loving. "Tell me why I can't." He licked his lips, leaning in until only a hairs-width separated their skin. She was so flushed, so red. So afraid.

"I...I didn't....mean to...." her words were dead on her tongue as she stared into his eyes. Just like all the rest. He made an appreciate purr. "Come intae a monster's house, an' ye unleash the monster." She shrieked as he gripped her hair suddenly, forcing her neck to jut upward with a sharp tug. His eyes gleamed, appreciating the smooth, creamy skin. All his.

"Maybe I'll le' ye live fer a while after I ea'....I never ge' blood this tasty." He pressed his lips to her skin, humming with delight, making her shiver. He'd been starved for far too long. She bucked and thrashed, screaming for help, for someone. Anyone.

But no-one came as his teeth sunk into her neck.


~*~


Alisia woke with heavy, crusted eyelids. Probably all her dried tears. Nothing but darkness met her vision, and at first, she thought she was dead. An aching reality check throbbed at her neck, and she touched the wound gingerly. Two wounds, actually. Two puncture-holes. She trembled in fear. "It...really happened..."

"Of course it did lass."

She practically screamed, throwing the bed covers off her and throwing herself from the bed. Her back against the wall, she stared with horror at the man who had so casually allowed himself into her bed. He had a cocky smirk on his lips, and it only took her a moment to realize something.

Her cheeks bloomed red. "W-where...are your...clothes." A wider smirk was her answer. "Where are yours?"

It was only then that Alisia noticed the cold on her bare skin.

"W-what!?" She yanked the sheet from the bed, happy to see he still had trousers on, but wasted no time in wrapping herself. "We...you...." She gulped, her chest heaving. "did you.......touch me?"

"Well, with the way ye were screamin' like a banshee while I was suckin', aye, people would think so." He shrugged lazily. "I donnae shag titless lasses on the first date." Ok, perhaps that wasn't ALL true. He had been....tempted. He was a lonely man, after-all. Somehow he'd kept his hands behaved.

She stiffened when he stood, not bothering to cover his top half as he strode towards her. Grace and menace oozed off him like bubbling tar. His gloved hand caressed along the wall next to her head, and he leaned in.

"Like yer new home?"

It took Alisia a moment to register that question before she blanched. ".......No. No no no no I can't live h-" A strong, large hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her. "I didnae say ye had a choice." His dark chuckle mad her shiver. If she had to stay here, then....

"Why?" She asked as a whisper, barely past his fingers. Verdant eyes glowed, and he leaned another deadly inch closer. "Because I wan' ye tae."

A silence sifted and staled in the room between them with Alisia staring into his eyes, searching for any deceit. She found none. "Why on Earth-" "Why do ye keep askin' annoying questions?" he snapped, baring a gleaming fang. Alisia was surprised it was clean, after what he'd done to her. "But...didn't you say you were going to kill m-" "Plans change." Another snap, firmer. She silenced herself obediently, watching as he angrily crossed towards the large open window. Staring out at the moon.

Iain would never admit his aching loneliness, and that need like dehydration to be quenched. If he ever admitted he craved companionship of any kind at all, his strong walls of pride would crumble. The girl seemed to figure something out though, as she took slow, careful steps towards him.

A warm, gentle hand on his shoulder made him stiffen, as though a statue. A soft, confused voice met his ear.

"Why did you let me live?"

Slowly, his head turned towards her. She had such big, chocolate eyes....eyes of innocence, of sympathy and kindness. Kindness wasted on him. When she didn't turn those doe-eyes away, he made another face. "Look lass, I do some things withou' thinkin' sometimes, alrigh'?" His words made her flinch. Good. She was supposed to be hurting, not sympathetic. "You....m-mean......it was a mistake?"

His eyes bore into her s a long moment, before he gruffly answered "Aye."

His sick, sadistic side squealed with glee at the tear that fell from her eye. Something else within him throbbed and ached. What had she done to deserve that? In a way, he was no better than those who condemned him.

But Iain had never cared before. And he wasn't about to start now.

Her eyes were defeated now, and he turned,. Something...couldn't let him bear to look at her any longer.

"This is actually my room. Yers is down the hall, tae the right." He motioned her out with stiff arm gestures. The small shuffling of footsteps, and a soft click of a closing door signaled that she'd gone.

Iain inhaled the night air, letting the pale disk of the moon remind him of what he was, why he was hated. And why he must hate because of it. His brothers had all abandoned him, screaming the same words of "Monster!" as they tried to set him aflame. His mother dead. Father dead. He was an outcast, a wretch upon all humanity. And no matter what, he was going to love it. He would be the monster they wanted him to be.

His eyes wandered to the closed door. He still had her to deal with though. A random impulse of his buried human-conscious. Vampires didn't feel. They fed. He figured his desire to have her around would go away, with time.

But maybe.......he could make her cook for him for a bit of time. He heard that Armenians made the best pastries.

The hollow shell of a man strode from the window, reaching for his discarded shirts and cape along the floor. Redressed, he could feel his fangs aching again. He pulled his lips back in a grin that would make children run screaming. It was time to wreak havoc again. Time to be a monster.

Then, he'd come home, a little less alone.