by ‘Teresa Devereux’
by ‘Teresa Devereux’
It started as a typical Wednesday evening at the library. I had been cataloging a new shipment of books out the back, when the new girl from the front library desk decided to go home sick. I had already cataloged the majority of the new stock, so I had to oversee the main library. Being a week night, the library was usually deserted by 8pm, so I settled down to do some computer work at the front counter. A little later, a well dressed young woman came in looking quite disorientated, as if in unfamiliar territory. She wanted to research the ‘City’ newspaper archive for information about a music band. I led her down to the rear of the library where the computer research area was, and returned back to the counter. She was the only person in the entire building other than myself.
A few minutes later, the front door swung open, and in walked the strangest looking man. He was in his mid 20’s, with an average build, and dare I say it, quite good looking. The strange thing about him was, he was wearing a black suit and gloves. He walked towards the counter, and began removing one of his gloves. As he pulled it from his hand, I was transfixed on his fingernails. They seemed to grow from his fingertips, becoming black and claw like. I could hardly believe what I saw. As I stared at his hand, he reached the counter, looked at his hand intently, and said ever so calmly “pretty, aren’t they?”.
I was about to open my mouth to speak, when he drew his hand back and swung it across my neck. I felt the pain searing my flesh, and the force of the blow threw me back into my chair. I screamed in pain-filled terror, feeling the warm blood pouring down my neck onto my chest. Weak, and in shock, I was unable to move as I saw the man had now made his way around the desk. I looked up at him, and saw what I can only describe as a look of animal lust cross his face. He leapt at me, and buried his head into my ravaged throat. He was sucking my blood out of me, and I became weaker and weaker, until darkness surrounded me and the pain disappeared.
Returning to consciousness, I found myself lying on the floor, though how I got there I don’t know. My lips burning, my entire mouth on fire! My body convulsing in tides of pain, ripping through every cell. My mind filled with this overwhelming surge of both wracking pain and ecstasy intermingled into my sensory overload. It was as if my body was boiling, while red hot pins were being thrust into the very depths of my flesh to the bone. Excruciating, and yet, pure pleasure. I opened my eyes wide in horror. Kneeling beside me was the man who did this to me. I looked at his wrist outstretched towards me, noticing a pool of dark blood. He spoke one word, “drink”. I could not think, all I knew was that I must have it. Like a primitive instinct, completely savage and untamed, a yearning that must be fulfilled. Filled with loathing at the desire, I still found myself reaching upwards and latching onto his arm with my mouth, drinking like a newborn upon it’s mother’s breast. The pain began to withdraw, and the pleasure increased with each drop that crossed my lips. Finally, the pain abated, and with a gentle push on my forehead from the man, I dropped slowly back onto the floor. I fell into a restful oblivion darker than hell itself.
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