Settings

The Nightlife: New York

Page 29

   



As the party raged on, he and Michelle worked the room, enjoying the carefree light-hearted atmosphere of the young, immature party goers. Delia was completely ignored, but she maintained her relentless stare at Aaron. Reading her mind, she was consumed with jealousy, obsessed with him, desperately waiting for an opening to talk with him alone. Michelle had been right all along, the girl was a problem.
A half hour into the party, Amber approached him. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Her eyes flitted to Michelle, who was occupied with Kyle’s flirtations.
“I’m right here.” He smiled brightly, and she blushed.
He read Amber’s intense attraction to him and her embarrassment at being cornered into the awkward position of acting as Delia’s ambassador. He listened patiently. “Um … really its Delia, she wants to talk privately, in the bedroom. She really misses you. I mean it. I’ve never seen her like this. Can you just talk to her for a couple minutes?” Amber’s eyes shifted back towards Michelle, as though afraid to be caught in the middle of this little game.
He surprised her with a wide open grin. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
Aaron flashed a winning smile in Delia’s direction. The first time he’d given her any attention all night. She blushed too. He wondered if Delia had a clue how much her best friend wanted to get in his pants. She probably wouldn’t be sending Amber to him anymore if she learned the truth.
He drew Delia into the room, putting his arm around her in a casual embrace as he closed the door behind them. Delia’s pulse pounded and he read her intense desire-obsession, as she grew wet between the legs from his proximity. She knew something exciting was about to happen. She couldn’t understand what had come over her. He had never driven her hormones crazy like this. No man had ever affected her this way.
He pulled away from her and stepped farther into the bedroom. The separation was almost painful for Delia. She yearned to touch him, to reach her hands up under his shirt. She broke into a sweat with fantasies of all the delightfully naughty things she wanted him to do.
He stood there looking at her. Gradually his face turned to a scowl, eyes cold as ice. Delia began to fear he had discovered she called the police to report Michelle. She feared his disapproval and rejection. Her mind raced through lies, misdirection and excuses she could use to skirt the issue, preparing for a reproach.
He read her as she unwittingly confessed to her betrayal that led to the Ramada Inn massacre and his and Michelle’s near-death-experiences. Delia had just condemned herself. The judge, jury, and executioner stood right behind her, silently reading all that Aaron discovered through their intimate psychic bond. Michelle had slipped into the room silently after them, and stood directly behind Delia the entire time. He transmitted all of Delia’s thoughts to her.
Sensing something was seriously wrong, Delia began blabbering nervously, “I have done a lot of thinking lately, and I realize I was wrong about splitting up. You know we belong together.” She smiled warmly with an air of correctness and expectation, no hint of innocence or apology.
Aaron walked toward Delia as though he would embrace her again, but kept on going right past her. As she turned to grab him, he walked into Michelle’s embrace and kissed her lovingly.
Michelle broke off and patted him gently on the shoulder. “Delia and I have something to discuss. Give us a moment, please.”
He nodded and quickly exited the room, closing the door behind him.
* * * *
Delia tried to follow Aaron out, moving past Michelle towards the door. Michelle snatched her up off her feet one-handed, spun her around and pinned her back to the door, face to face. She had Delia by the throat, pressed securely against the door with her feet dangling in the air. Delia squirmed frantically, trying to somehow free herself from the iron claws that dug into her throat like a bear trap.
Michelle’s mouth opened inhumanly wide, a python preparing to swallow its prey whole. She hissed in Delia’s face, bearing her fangs. Delia froze, immobilized by terror at the predatory beast inches away from her. Michelle leaned forward and bit, her razor sharp fangs pierced through shirt and bra and sank into the soft fatty tissue of Delia’s right breast. Delia’s terror peaked and her bowels released. Urine ran down her legs to pool on the floor beneath her. She gagged, but couldn’t vomit as her esophagus was constricted by Michelle’s wicked hold on her throat. She swallowed it back down to breathe.
Michelle released Delia’s breast, licked the blood off her lips, and held Delia’s terrified gaze with murderous intensity. Delia was deathly pale and shaking with a mewling sound––the only noise that could escape her constricted wind pipe.
Time to stop playing around and get serious. She reached her free hand up Delia’s skirt and tore off her cotton underwear. Delia squealed at the brush of Michelle’s sharp claws across her intimate folds.
Michelle licked her finger tips suggestively, as Delia shook her head back and forth whining, “No, no, nooooooo.” She stuck her hand all the way up into Delia’s tender flesh, forcing her to accommodate her whole fist. Delia grunted hard as her entire body was pushed upward with the strength of Michelle’s thrust. When her hand squeezed all the way in reaching the limit, Michelle tweaked her claws into the flesh around Delia’s cervix drawing blood.
Delia’s aura flared with a new plateau of pain, terror and humiliation as she realized the horrid mutilation of her body that was about to occur. She cried and bawled like a child.
Michelle looked at her sideways, debating whether she should just do it, or give the girl a chance. She opted for the latter. “I will cut out your uterus and ovaries. Then I will feed them to you. If you still live, I will drain every drop of your blood. Do you doubt me?”
With tears streaming down her face, Delia whimpered, “No.” Michelle eased back the tension on Delia’s throat to better hear her speak. After several gasping breaths, she begged for her life, sobbing, “I don’t wanna die. Please don’t kill me. I’ll leave New York. I’ll never come back. You’ll never see me again, I promise. Please have mercy. I don’t wanna die like this. I’ll do anything you want. Anything!”
Michelle pulled her hand partway out of Delia’s bruised flesh and stroked her sensitive clit intimately with her thumb. Delia bucked and squealed as Michelle tweaked and caressed her buttons in a playful mix of pleasure and pain.
She continued begging for her life and freedom. “Please … Oh God … Please … anything you want … just please, let me go …”
Michelle spoke low and cold, barely above a whisper, “You leave the state. I let you have your life and your body––intact. Remember this well. Remember every day of your miserable life that you live by my mercy. You can still bear children by my mercy.” Michelle paused, Delia nodded frantically in agreement.
“If I see you, hear of you, or find you have returned, I will hunt you down. There is no place you can hide. And I will make good on my threats.” Michelle tweaked her clit once more, a reminder. “Entendez-moi? Understand? You need another demonstration?”
Delia shook her head vigorously. “No. Please, no more. I’ll leave tonight. Now! You’ll never see me again, I swear! Please, please let me go!” She sobbed and groveled with the spark of hope that she could survive this night without being mutilated and scarred for life. Michelle released her and she collapsed to the floor lying in her own urine. Delia bawled in relief, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.
* * * *
Aaron and Michelle said their goodbyes to everyone. Heading towards the door, Kyle caught Aaron and pulled him aside, “Hey, do you have to take off so soon? Delia’s gone already. She was real upset. I don’t think she’ll be back tonight.”
Aaron smiled warmly. “I don’t think Delia will return, but I’ve gotta get going. Michelle and I have some other plans.”
Kyle nodded in reluctant acceptance, “Hey, did you hear what happened to those two cops that were here looking for you?” Aaron shook his head.
“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ crazy. They were found dead at a hotel. One guy shoved off the balcony and the other one was torn apart like hamburger. It’s been all over the news. You haven’t heard about it?”
Aaron grinned. “Yeah, there are some real animals out there. It’s pretty dangerous to be a cop these days.” Aaron pegged Kyle with a direct stare. Kyle stared back apprehensively.
Aaron read his mind as Kyle briefly entertained the idea that the unfortunate fate of the detectives had something to do with Aaron and Michelle. Kyle couldn’t envision either of them as vicious murderers. They were fun, attractive, and charming. No way they could have been involved in such a massacre. No way possible.
Kyle dismissed the thought and clapped Aaron on the back, snickering in a tone of mutual conspiracy. “Well I guess the good news is you don’t have to worry about those assholes bothering you anymore.”
Aaron and Michelle gave him identical, gleaming white, predatory smiles as they departed, slipping out the door into the New York nightlife.
* * * *
Two days later:
“I think we have worn out our welcome in New York. I don’t like the problème with the police. Is a very high profile investigation. Good time to travel. Since you have nothing to hold you here, I think we should go.” Michelle paused in consideration, “Have you ever been to Europe? Paris, London, Rome?”
He shrugged, and then thought of something. “No, I haven’t really been anywhere. You know what Kyle and I had planned? We were gonna do a vacation in Vegas. Never made it there. I’d still like to go.”
Michelle kissed him. “Ooohhh … I love Las Vegas, the city that never sleeps. Is perfect for vampires, don’t you think?”
* * * *
The End
* * * *