Hunter Hunted

Hunter Hunted

The night is cold and black. The silence of the city sings to him as he walks along the empty streets. He takes in a deep breath and smells the fullness of its bouquet. He can almost taste it. Its ripeness, its heady flavour. He is on the hunt for the sustenance that he so craves. He has always been told that he has a strange appetite but it is an appetite that needs to be satisfied. An eternal hunger, a hunger for blood.

It’s getting late and still he hadn’t found anything to eat, indeed nobody to eat. He was just about to give in for the night when…suddenly…he smelt it. He smelt her. He stepped into the shadows and started searching for his prey. There, on the opposite side of the street. A dark hair women wearing a stylish black dress-suit and heels. Mmmm…she smells delicious, ripe, tasty. He quickly stepped out of the shadow and began stalking her down the street. His stride silent and careful, he follows her down the street, taking in her fragrance, enjoying the hunt. She begins to turn…

She turns around quickly only to see her shadow creeping on the ground behind her. She surveyed the empty Johannesburg street. She was so sure she heard footsteps but all she is hearing now is the moaning wind and her heels clicking on the concrete paving. She turns back and starts walking towards her destination when she heard it again. She swings around and this time she was certain she saw some-one…something…quickly slipping into the shadows of a nearby alley. She turns back and quickens her pace. She looks back one final time only to collide into something…some-one…

He can now almost taste her. She collides into his broad silk covered chest. He wraps his arms around her and embraces her like a lover would in a deep strong protective hug.  He smells her perfume and he takes it in like a wine connoisseur would savour the fragrance of a full-bodied red wine. He can almost not contain himself but he must remain restrained, it makes the blood taste sweeter. He pulls her into the nearest alley and savours the sounds the snivelling, whimpering girl is making. It excites him to no end.  He breaks the embrace and looks deep into her bright brown eyes searching for the fear. The anxiety that makes the hunt all worth it. He looks into her eyes and sees…

She is pulled into the alley by the strong stranger she collided into and he breaks the tight embrace he had over her and stares into her eyes. It feels like he is trying to see her soul, see her fear, but he looks disappointed. In fact he looks…scared.

“W…who are you? W…what are you?” He stammers.

“Why aren’t you scared of me?”

“That’s because I am not the helpless scared little girl you thought I was.” She whispers with a voice like dark tainted glass. She grabs him by the throat and shoves him against the alley wall. It feels like an iron vice closing tightly around his throat squeezing the life breath out of him. He squirms and realises he has been lifted of his feet by this frail, weak women. How is this possible he thinks to himself, how could he be bested by a human. He, a creature of the night. Vampyre Nosferatu. Vampire. How is this possible he thinks to himself trying to hold onto his life-force? Trying in vain to survive. He struggles to look down at her. He sees a golden shine to those bright brown eyes and he begins to beg for his unlife…his life…

“Please don’t hurt me, I was only trying to feed.” He begs with strangled breath.

“My dear boy, you are so misguided, so lost. You think yourself Vampyre, but you are nothing but a delusional boy who has no comprehension of what really lies in the deep darkness of the night…”

And with that she opens her mouth and sinks her fangs into his throat. He feels his essence, his life, his blood being drained from his body. He feels his warmth being sucked out of his body leaving him an empty shell. It feels…beautiful.

She drops the empty shell of a corpse to the ground and wipes the remnants of blood from the corner of her mouth. She smiles slightly and bends down and looks deep into those blue lifeless eyes.

“My dear boy, you thought you were the hunter…That would almost be sweet, if it wasn’t so…pathetic.” She chides.

With that she gets up and strolls out the alley and continues down the road, satisfied, back to her nest, back to her lover and maker, back home.

The night is cold and black. The silence of the city sings to her as she walks along the empty streets of Johannesburg…