No, no, no! You can't just club her over the head with a baseball bat and then gulp her blood down like some kid with a slurpee! Where's your sense of style? Where's your sense of romance?

Here, I'll show you. I'm kind of hungry anyway.

There's the library. College libraries are great places to find victims. Now, don't be so impatient. You need to scope things out a minute.

Let's see. That blonde over there looks promising. The one in the jeans and blue halter top. Attractive lady.

But hold on a minute. Watch her, but don't stare.

There, see? She's with a group. Nothing we can't handle, but it's a complication. We don't need complications, not when there's....

Yes, the brunette over there. With the glasses. Yellow T-shirt and tan shorts. See her? Yes, that's her. Long hair. I love long, thick hair.

Now, watch this. All you need is eye contact.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Well, I guess not..."

She's mine now.

Yeah, I love the blank stare too. Her lips are just slightly parted. You can tell if you look really closely into her brown eyes that she's afraid, but she can't do anything about it.

"Where's your boyfriend?"

"I don't have..."

Breathy voice. I love that breathy voice, almost like a whisper.

"Are you here with anyone?"

"No."

"What's your name?"

"Jessica."

"Where do you live?"

"Branford Hall. 210."

"Is your roomate there?"

"No... out until after midnight."

"You don't have to fear me."

She's got a pretty smile, doesn't she? She knows I'm lying, but she wants to believe I'm not.

"You need to go to your room."

That's it, sugar. Nod that pretty head.

"In fact, when I touch you, you'll wake up and find that you need to go to your room right away!"

Another nod. That gives me an idea for later. "Pick up your backpack... That's right. Now, off you go."

And I touch her shoulder.

"Excuse me, but I've got to go."

Let her get a little head start, then we'll follow. No one will notice us. It's dark outside; we blend right in. We've got an hour or so before midnight.

Well, there's Branford Hall right ahead, and she's about to go in. Let's catch up.

"Miss?"

"Oh, it's..."

"Invite us in, please."

It's always good to say "please."

"Come in..."

Technically, we don't need the invitation, but I like those old Christopher Lee movies where the vampire had to be invited in, so I usually make sure I'm asked.

Now, up the stairs. Left. Here's 210. We'll just follow her in.

"Go sit on the bed, Jessica."

Lock the door, would you? We don't want to be surprised. It just makes things messy.

"You are in my power, Jessica."

There she is nodding that pretty head. Wait, this will be great.

"Sleep, Jessica."

There! That's what I love. She's sitting there with her head down and all that long, dark hair hanging around her face. I can brush it with my hand and look at her lovely, sleeping face. I'll take off her glasses. She won't need them anymore.

"Jessica?"

"Yes..."

"You look tired. Must be time for bed."

A nice yawn. She takes off her sneakers. Then her socks. She has lovely feet doesn't she? Then she pulls off her T-shirt. Slowly. And drops her shorts. Kicks them away.

"Jessica?"

There's that lovely blank look again.

"I have a gun."

Fear is intoxicating, isn't it? She's begging me with her eyes. Her lip is quivering. Her hands are on her chest. She thinks I'm really holding a gun. Let me savor this a moment, then...

"Bang."

See how her hair flew as she spun around before she fell forward onto the bed? And how it lies messily splayed out around her now? And how her face is buried in the mattress?

"Bang."

I love to watch them twitch like that. Now her head's turned to the side so we can see her face.

Watch this. See? Her pupils are dilated. Now I'll whisper right into that pretty ear.

"This one's the end, Jessica. Bang."

One more twitch and then watch how still she lies. How limp. How helpless.

I can't wait anymore. I put her limp arms by her side, roll her onto her back. I lift her under the shoulders so that her head lolls back and I can see her lovely, smooth neck. And I bite...

Oooooooh!

Wait! I'm not done. She's still alive. I didn't suck all her blood. There's still more fun to be had. I roll her back onto her stomach, pull back the hair from her neck, and...

Oooooooooooooh!!

Now I lift her by the waist so that she hangs down like a rag doll. I lay her on the carpet, turn her on her back, and spread her arms and legs.

This will be the end. This will be it. So I look at her a little while. Feel her skin; it's still warm. Run my hands through her hair and watch her head loll back and forth. Press my body against her limp form, turn her head and... and...

Oooooooooooooooooooh!!!

Now, isn't that a lot better than your way?

If you'd like reading about what might have driven me to write something like this, read my notes on this story.

The story was first put on the message board at Put Under Bondage. I put some extra touches here, extra formatting and title art and all.

Please write me if you have any comments.

Copyright 2005.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 License.