Be careful who you take home from bars. (second edit)
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It was a fairly normal Saturday night for me, I was bored, lonely, and willing to make bad decisions. My friends where busy with previous engagements, and I had recently quite my job; a habit that I can't seem to kick. My final paycheck from that job had just came in, and of course it was not going to be enough to last me long. So I decided to visit one of the many bars on the main strip of my small Midwestern city.
The place was called "The Underground" because it was a repurposed tornado shelter that was never filled in, and converted into a bar around the mid 60's. It was your typical place, a small kitchen serving overpriced slop, the wrap around bar of cheap liquors, and a few billiard tables. Most of the patrons where your weekend warrior and hick types. It was a busy night, free pool as long as you where drinking. I figured I could probably hustle a few bucks off some stupid drunks while feigning my own drunkenness.
I ordered a pitcher of some cheap beer, found a little table to settle down and scope out my victims. There was already plenty of jackasses talking big, while missing ever shot they took. It wouldn't be hard to scam them, as long as I used the right method.In the end I decided to go with a "dumb luck" routine, noticing they where already placing money on the games. After whittling down the pitcher to the halfway mark, I stumbled my way over to the guys at the pool table. Acting over eager to play but unsure about placing any money down, as far as they knew.
In the end I walked away from that table about a hundred bucks richer. The guys where either already to drunk or to stunned to try anything, at least not in the bar. I returned to my corner and had a couple more drinks, while watching over the rest of the hall. Not many people where putting money down, and the ones that where seemed to look at me weary. When I noticed a chick at the bar around my age. Which is unusual for this place, most chicks our age either attended college parties or didn't really drink anywhere but at home. Or they all together didn't drink or party, focusing on their studies and not their social life.
She was stunning, sitting there at the bar ordering cocktails one after another. All made up for a night out on the town. She sat alone, with a few stools between her and the next patron. She had on a tight little plaid skirt, the best way to describe the color would have to be greyish. Underneath she wore fishnets, torn just above the knee with some high heeled boots that rode up to mid-calf. Under her crop jacket she wore an old Sum41 tee, the one from around the time of their second album "Does this look Infected". It looked like she'd had it since back around then, cause it fit poorly in all the best possible ways. A bit tighter near the chest, while resting above the navel. Her dark hair was styled in a shot layered bob cut, with muted toned makeup applied lightly just to gently highlight her features.
I figured I would try and make a night of it, chat her up and see if it leads anywhere. So I went over to the bar, ordered a few doubles sending some her way. She accepted them and even met my gaze, I figured since I was the only guy her age in the whole place I had a clear shot. That was if she wasn't looking for older guys, who'd probably lose their cash before getting anywhere with her. Surprisingly she made her way down to me before I could even get a chance to prepare myself. Things seemed to be turning out just like I could hoped they would.
I remember clearly that Def Leppard's "Love Bites" was playing at that moment. A song I knew well, having been dragged to nearly every show they played near where I lived. All I could think at the time was that she was looking fine, and now sitting at the stool next to me. She ordered us some more shots before starting up a conversation.
Getting a better look at her she was quite pale, and it only served to make her steely blue eyes all the more enchanting. Her smile was bright, each tooth sat straight and perfect. We talked about relatively shallow topics, favorite bands and concerts. Movies we'd seen over a thousand times and could spew off every line in the directors commentary. It was the standard getting to "know" someone, when in reality you could probably care less about the actual person. Choosing to focus on the more physical aspects of them while trying to imagine the fun you could have.
I was honestly surprised with how much we both had in common, down to our favorite film. Wes Cravens New Nightmare, the last and definitely most tongue in check of his "Nightmare" films. We where both fans of horror, from the classics to the laughably awful ones. Luckily I was able to get at least a feigned expression of impressed when bringing up the widescreen VHS fact. Most people aren't aware that Wes had to make the VHS copies in widescreen; because you could see Freddy's hat when he's supposed to suddenly pop out in front of Heather in the final dream encounter.
Most of the conversation continued in this vein, mainly about horror flicks. We didn't even bother giving each other our names; but that was kind of the point wasn't it. Eventually after a heated debate about weather Jason or Freddy had won their little bout. For the record Freddy wins because he brought back memories of his terror, which would allow him to return. She invited me to her place to re-watch the film so it was fresh in our minds. I would say everything was going to plan, both hers and mine.
So we left the bar, ditching out on the tab by putting it on the guys who'd lost to me at pool earlier. I wasn't shocked when she said she didn't have a car, making mine the only option to get to her place. Most people probably don't drive to a bar then pound down drinks expecting to drive back. This would only mean that I'd be relied on to get her home. She gave me directions as we went, a left here and take that street ahead. All while learning heavily over the center console, her breasts pressing hard against my shoulder as she drunkenly supported herself on me. Her breath was moist and sour, clearly she'd drank more than I thought.
Her place was an apartment in an old house that had been converted, the neighborhoods were full of similar places. All the large houses built during pioneer times, now run down slums for the trash the settlers decedents became. Her apartment was in the back and on the top floor, that had probably been an attic at one point in time. Only three apartments used this entrance, connecting to the main area through the laundry hall. It wasn't anything special, just a small studio with no sign of any room mates. The only furniture besides the stove and fridge in the kitchenette was an old pullout sofa and a TV. She popped in the DVD and we sat on the stained and ragged mattress.
It was now that I knew fully that no one would miss her. However I decided to play along just a bit longer. It wasn't far into the movie that she leaned in closer than before, her breath hot on my neck. She continued to nuzzle up against me, as placed my arm around her. She was kissing my neck and breathing heavily. She placed a hand on my chest, slowly working her way to my groin. I drew her closer in and kissed her, she tasted like a myriad of spirits and liquor. Making her lips like an intoxicating poison all on their own. She made her way into my lap, exactly where I wanted, no needed her to be.
She leaned back in and I went to whisper into her ear. "You shouldn't have invited me in." I told her but before she could let it sink in, I did. Bearing my fangs, plunging them deep into the jugular; getting what  I was after all along. I don't know if she felt any pain, as my own experience is but a faded memory. From the sounds she made, it's was as euphoric for her as it is for myself. They always made noises of pained ecstasy, as if the last moments of their life was both an orgasm and a stroke. I drained her dry not a single drop left, unable to control myself once the sweet ichor had touched my starved lips.
Once the deed was done I sat there in her apartment, unsure if I should pity or envy the poor girl. She was so easy to get alone, yet she could experience the one thing I've longed for decades, release. I let an idea lull in my mind until finally deciding, she would not die here. So preparing to do something I hadn't done in countless years, I slit my own wrist. Filling my mouth with my own bitter dark ichor, then giving her one more kiss. Forcing the blood from my mouth into hers, a process that once done would bind us. For better or worse we would always end up back to each other, unable to stay apart. Until the force that bound us was broken by the death of one, or I released her from my servitude.
I left a note about the true nature of the events that went on, before leaving into the night. Giving all she'll need to know to find me if she so wished, and most do. She will come either to thank me or to curse my name. Now there is nothing more to do but wait, hoping she didn't do anything too stupid in the wake of her new dawning. Maybe I'll even bother to get to know her name this time around.
(**Note** please leave some feedback, it would be a shame if you ended up just another feed bag. I added a few sentences from the rough draft and reworked some parts.)

« Last Edit: 06:40 AM, 01/ 6/19 by PostMortemCreamPi »

I really liked this story. It reminds me of a similar idea I had.


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