Category: Writers Block
The blackout.
November 3, 2008, (12:16 AM)
Mesmerized, I watched as the crimson trickle became a spill and you lapped at it like a parched man who’d just been given water. I couldn’t tare my eyes away from the sight, even as my vision began to blur. The last thing I remember is the beautiful sight of my blood on your lips, your soft face smiling gently. I awoke some time later, first my eyes opened, then I felt my brain slowly shake itself, like some grate leviathan and begin to process what my eyes were taking in. A field of some sort. A meadow, maybe? Yes, a meadow, our meadow. Then I realized it. What my eyes were seeing was perfectly crystal clear. Slowly, I sat up and felt myself. My muscles felt stronger, longer, even. I stood and then, as no vertigo hit, I realized what was missing, my heartbeat. That steady thrum that I had taken for granted, it was gone. I tipped my face to the sun and sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Finally, I was one and the same as you, and I was thankful. I took in my surroundings, marvelling once again at the high definition quality of my new sight. Flexing experimentally, I was amazed at the raw power I felt; it was heady and dizzying feeling this strong. I was so overwhelmed that I had to sit down again. When I did, two things occurred to me at once. First, I wondered where you were, you said you’d stay with me threw it all, but before I could ponder it much further, what was once a niggling sense in my stomach blossomed into a ravenous hunger, a sheer thirst that in its first moments of arrival seemed as though it would be unquenchable. I sniffed the air and paused. You were coming, I could feel it. More importantly, you were bringing food. The sent was that of warm, thick, fresh crimson liquid, finer than the most expensive and sought after wine. It’s aroma like a siren’s call, akin to some heavenly ambrosia, filled my nose. I stood and watched your approach. Momentarily, your movements, like waves on the ocean, distracted me. You flowed over the ground, seeming to glide more than walk. Then you stopped and presented the elk to me with a theatrical flourish. I dove on it with out a second thought, my teeth ripping and tearing and gnawing and devouring until nothing was left, save a small pile of bones and a clump of fur.
“Hungry?” I rolled my eyes at you, licking the remnants of life giving fluid from my lips.
“You missed a spot.” You whispered before swiping your tongue across the corner of my mouth. Then I was overcome with an entirely new sensation, one of desire for you like I had never felt before. With a gasp, we came together, basking in the sun and heat of our new equally lithe forms, tumbling and fumbling, probing and questing, tasting, biting, licking, sucking, and when, finally sated, we lay tangled together under the stars.
November 3, 2008, (3:16 PM)