Her Vermilion Smile

The night hung dark and hostile around the girl's bony frame. She kept her head low a wave of black hair settling in front of her eyes. This subtle veil protecting her from the sharp bursts of wind that swept dust and the smells of a road that had putrefied all day in the sun up into her face. She had no destination in particular in mind. Just anywhere with people. Anywhere that wasn't her cold empty shell of a home. Not even a home, just a place of rotting decaying dreams. She was delicate but noticeably caustic and carried herself in a way that showed off her internal scars, this was a girl who was bitter because of life. Hardened because of it. So when the neon lights of a country bar promising strong hard alcohol dawned on the dark horizon the sight was quite welcome to her large wet eyes. People try to tell you that you can't drown your problems. People are idiots.

When she stepped into the bar the eyes of a million gas station attendants and lonely old men turned to see the pale frail figure tentatively force her sore feet through the door and silkily move across the floor to the bar. Black satin dress cradled her figure and heavy curls framed her shockingly pallid visage. The only color in her entire ensemble was a gash of red across her lips; her eyes even lacked color. They were only clouded in the darkness of black kohl. She was no big titted blonde but she was still female and quite young and to a man who had spent the entire day with his hands elbow deep in car grease a thin nubile female was a welcomed site. But her attention was focused solely on what the bar would serve her. She seated herself on the edge of a bar stool small body poised like an angel's statue on a grave. She probably would have preferred hard whiskey but all they had was an amber beer tasting like the dust that blew in from the desert. She didn't sip it like would be expected of someone so petite and dainty, she threw her head back and let the beer burn a path down her throat and was ready for another.

The only well dressed gentleman in the dive set his sites on her. He got up from the dark corner booth that he sat at and moved across the room over to her bar stool standing at her shoulder his hand rested on her exposed collar bone just as pale and cold as her own skin. He asked her to come and sit at the booth with him and she accepted pale eyes almost meeting his. He wore a button down black shirt that she imagined would feel silky and smooth to the touch and tight black dress pants. He was as colorless as she. He pulled her gently onto his side of the booth leaning towards her with predatory ease and she leaned into him like the perfect runaway victim, looking for love and comfort. They spoke in low voices to each other, or mostly he spoke and she just smiled becoming more and more enthralled with his distinct features and dark personality. He used any excuse to touch her and feel that soft skin under his finger tips, his self control was waning with each word he spoke. She smelled sweetly of dark rooms decorated with lace and velvet where eerie electronic music floated up with sickeningly sweet vocals and dangerous lyrics mixing with the burning smoke of incense and black candles.

His hand found it's way to her thigh in a style that could be interpreted as accident if she became offended, she only met his eyes, hers hollow, willing, empty, and his beautiful and carnivorous. No matter what he did to her, she'd take it, let it happen not argue, not fight, she'd fall limp in his arms, be his interest in thievery, rape, or murder. She was absolutely perfect. He traced her jaw line with his other hand and then leaned into her, his lips meeting her vermilion smile, with tongue and teeth. She tasted like the razor sharpness of alcohol and what he imagined rotting roses would taste like, sweet, sour and frighteningly dark, the subtlest coppery taste floated into his mouth and he kissed her harder. His hand roped around the back of her head pulling her thin pale neck to his lips. He dragged his tongue along the lace pattern of blue veins and tendons and then let his teeth scrape the delicate skin. She stiffened at the feeling of his sharp canines touching the satin of her skin but regardless let a small angel moan escape her lips and he bit into her harder. His cold white hands were frantically brushing through her mess of black curls desperately pulling her body closer to him. With a sudden dominance brought on by passion she pulled him off her neck and after a brief, frantic kiss pressed her red lips to the white of his throat. For a moment she thought she heard him mumble "I'll murder you," into her hair and she only smiled that sweet vermilion smile into his neck and then bit down. Her fangs pierced his full pulsating vein and his flesh made a wet crunching sound when she bit through his skin. He stiffened, shocked and confused and struggled to throw her off, she let him. Her eyes focused on him with such a look of apology that he almost believed it, until she pulled his bleeding neck to her mouth and sucked at the gush of blood. The sweet salty wave sweeping over her tongue and washing her mouth a deeper crimson.

He stopped fighting when he knew he was going to die. There was nothing he could do, he'd put girls in this position before. So many beautiful runaways that in the very throw of passion he would reach his hands to their throats and watch as their life was squeezed out of them, as they became motionless under his body. He had left so many worn out corpses in ditches on the sides of old forgotten highways. Forgotten girls, forgotten roads. The beauties on the backs of milk cartons were lost forever to the dust and darkness of the desert. But now his own body would fall prey to another type of desert predator.

She could taste the salty warmth of his blood drinking it down into her body.
This was what she had really wanted. Alcohol was good but nothing could beat the taste of a pulse slowing under her lips. The vampire licked the last of the blood from the wound and then draped his body over on the table, limp, as if passed out drunk. Then she reached into his wallet and left the money for the drinks on the table. With a silence of contentedness she got up and left that bar behind her, walking off into a seemingly endless expanse of black. The night isn't hostile, if it's all you know.