It’s easy to get what you want when you are pretty and bubbly and friendly and cute. Doors almost always open. And when you’re barely out of high school and your friend’s much older, creepy brother who happens to be a bouncer wants to fuck you, that means even the door to one of the coolest 21 & over clubs in Portland is open for your reckless enjoyment. Marie makes nice with Dave, the creepy bouncer brother, and he puts her on his drinks tab for the night, probably hoping to cop something for aiding her delinquency. She’s all pleasantries and flirtation as she thanks him, then disappears into the darkened club with no intention of paying up at the end of the night. Marie orders something fruity, then carries her drink away from the bar, slipping right into the throbbing mass of dancers.
The house DJ is keeping things moving with heart-pounding EDM and Marie loses herself in the sound, drinking and dancing. At one point, a pretty blonde with messy curls dances with her, their bodies so close she’s almost sure she can feel the other woman’s heart beating, though it’s likely just the deep, throbbing thud of the music. The blonde is all smiles and giggles and Marie is immediately enchanted by the lovely woman. Just as suddenly as she appeared, she blows Marie a kiss and disappears back into the crowd. It’s just as well. Her drink is empty. Marie makes a beeline for the bar, getting a second fruity drink, this one a little heavier pour than the last. She can taste the alcohol overpowering whatever juicy mix is combined with it. Marie hesitates at the bar, scanning the edges of the crowd for signs of the pretty blonde as she nurses her second drink, to no avail. She debates hanging out at the bar a little longer, but catches sight of Dave the creepy bouncer in her periphery, making his way to her general direction. Marie groans, downing the rest of her drink and casting the glass aside as she feigns not seeing him and dips right back into the crowd, slipping past warm body after warm body, moving with the music until she finds a nice spot to simply enjoy herself.
She is feeling the effects of the two drinks, a calm sort of happiness radiating around her. Body after body slips up and along her, dancing, caressing. They’re all mostly faceless and she’s happy to be lost in the sea of them, the world outside forgotten in her tipsy bliss. Suddenly, she feels someone slip up behind her and arms wrap around her body, fingers pressing into her skin through the flimsy material of the dress she’s wearing. A female voice murmurs into her ear, “I missed you,” and she knows immediately it’s the blonde. Marie grins a little, turning her face to speak to her. She’s met with cherry-tasting lips as the blonde leans slightly around her, hungry and gentle at the same time. It feels like an eternity as she and the blonde kiss and feign dancing, bodies writhing in time with their own found rhythm. They’re squeezed so tight against each other that nobody notices the brazen way the blonde’s hands move over the brunette’s lithe form, fingers in unison with the tongue in her mouth. She keeps Marie pressed back against her all the while. Finally, the blonde breaks the kiss. Marie whimpers in protest, then releases a moan as she feels the woman’s lips and mouth move along her neck, kissing, tasting, nibbling.
As the blonde continues to taunt her, Marie’s half lidded eyes lock on a face that wasn’t there before, a vivid, detailed, perfect face. He’s tall with skin like flecked porcelain and his hair is fiery orange. It’s his eyes, though, wild and so, so green. They almost look like they’re glowing behind that intense stare. Suddenly he’s in front of Marie and she’s looking up at him, and when he murmurs the words, “kiss me,” she wants nothing more in the world than to do just that, even as the blonde woman behind her continues to taunt her neck. Her lips part and suddenly his mouth is on hers, much more hungry, much more firm. He’s not gentle like the blonde. He’s assertive and strong and eager and aggressive. Something about the intensity of the kiss sends a thousand alarms off in her head but as long as his mouth is right there, she desires nothing else. She lets out a whimpered moan into his mouth as she feels a sudden, sharp pain in her neck. The pain fades away so quickly, though, and then there’s just kissing, wet tongues, soft lips, gentle pleasure.
The blonde’s mouth draws away from Marie’s neck and she murmurs “She tastes so good,” to the fiery-haired man, apparently her companion. He breaks the kiss, and suddenly Marie is alone and empty and hollow while neither of them touches her and the music and bodies around them continue to pulse and throb like arteries. Her eyes open wider and now the pair is in front of her, lips locked, hands caressing each other’s bodies. She blinks several times, that strange, empty feeling staying, then starts to step back away from the apparent couple. It’s his hand that snakes out, grabbing for her wrist. “Stay,” he murmurs, breaking his kiss with the blonde. Marie’s feet feel like they’re made of lead in that moment, despite the wobbliness of her legs and body.
They shift again and this time it’s the blonde she’s kissing, the red-haired man now behind her. He holds onto Marie, arms half around her, hands firmly steadying her as the dizzy feeling intensifies. He helps her lean into him, his lips moving to the opposite side of her neck. His kisses are again more firm than the blonde’s, and as Marie feels another sharp pain, the blonde deepens their kiss, eager and hungry, a hand snaking up to caress one of Marie’s breasts through the material of the dress as her tongue spirals around the brunette’s. She can feel the man’s lips and tongue on her neck as he moans against her skin. He’s suckling at her flesh and in the back of her mind she’s aware she’s likely going to be covered in hickeys.
“Fuck,” the man’s voice sounds as he breaks his hold on her neck. His tongue laps against her skin several times and Marie feels chills run up and down her spine. Even his voice is beautiful, deep and rich and somehow satiny. “She tastes too good,” he murmurs. The blonde manages an ‘mmhm’ against Marie’s mouth, but then she’s being urged away by the red haired man, one of his strong hands still steadying Marie’s wavering body. If the sea of faceless dancers around them is aware of anything, they don’t show any interest.
There’s a pause in their interactions, like a breath being carefully held, the man’s hand still holding Marie as he stares intently at her. He looks wanting, hungry. She feels so small under the weight of that stare.
“You know you can’t,” the blonde starts to protest. “Annie said–”
“Fuck what Annie said,” he replies, voice sharp like knives in an instant. Marie’s eyes drift blearily between the two beautiful faces. Again it’s those intense green glowing eyes that hold her gaze. The man gives her the warmest of smiles as she stares at him. She doesn’t even notice the trickle of deep red coming from the corner of his mouth. Marie melts with that smile. He reaches for her hand with his free hand.
“Come with me, lovely…” he says. It’s the subtle emphasis on the word ‘come’ that seems to trigger her. Suddenly her feet are walking as he leads her through the crowd. She feels light and airy but heavy and drained all at once. She looks backward toward where the pretty blonde still stands, everything else around her a rush of noise and light and color. The woman’s features are drawn down with concern and regret, though Marie doesn’t fully understand why. She continues following the red-haired man right through the throbbing crowd and down a stuffy, dark corridor toward the bathroom. Somewhere in her mind, she wonders what she’s doing and why she’s going with this random stranger, but as he leads, she simply can’t not follow…
“Get out,” the red-haired man’s words sound as he leads Marie into the unisex bathroom. There’s a tatty loveseat a couple is making out on, but the second they hear his voice, they simply stop and exit the bathroom without question. The man lays Marie onto the sofa, half leaning her against one side of it. He pauses to stare into her eyes a moment or two. “Relax,” he urges, reaching a hand to lightly stroke her hair away from her face and neck. “You’ll barely feel a thing…”
For a moment, he’s gentle, tender. He nuzzles her exposed neck, pressing easy, light kisses. Quickly, though, the sensation shifts. She feels more than a light sting this time as his mouth opens around her tender throat. She can actually feel all of his teeth pressing into her skin, every single tooth biting into the flesh.
“N-no,” she manages weakly, eyes going wide as she seems to break from the trance she’s in. He groans, ignoring her plea. She can feel an intense pull of his lips on her skin, feel the way his tongue rhythmically presses in unison, feel him sucking. Sucking what? Her blood? “St-stop. Stop!” Instincts kick in and she tries to break free of the man’s mouth. He tries to still her, holding firm as she struggles. Then there is strong, burning pain. She feels her throat grow warm and wet all at once as his mouth finally breaks away.
“FUCK!” he screams as he draws away, his mouth now covered in blood and bits of skin and tissue. He slams his fist into the concrete wall behind the sofa and she can see it go right through. Her body starts to shake as she looks up at him, panic in her eyes. She wants to scream to cry out, but suddenly her voice is drowned out by the sensation of blood as it fills her throat, making her gurgle and gag. She can feel coldness in her fingers and her toes, feel hot tears trailing from the outside corners of her eyes.
“You weren’t supposed to FUCKING MOVE!” the man snarls at her. She can see something else in his eyes besides the anger. Guilt. Fear. She can’t even respond with all the blood in her mouth and throat, lips moving wordlessly as she gurgles and sputters. His hands are on her throat now. He seems to be trying to hold her ragged throat together.
The bathroom door bursts open and there is the blonde. She gasps, eyes on Marie’s shaking body as life slowly drains from it.
“James!” she gasps.
“She moved!” he protests.
“You weren’t supposed to… fucking kill her!”
The words seem to fade away. Marie can barely register their voices, though the name ‘Annie’ is tossed around again and again during their brief, somehow muddled conversation. The air around her is getting so light it’s almost white. She feels a sensation of weightlessness, as if her body is lifting up, up. Suddenly, there’s skin against her lips, cool wetness, and the gentle voice of the blonde breaks through the fog at the same time as her face does, now so very close to Marie’s. “Sweetie, drink,” she urges. “You have to drink.”
Marie’s lips move mechanically and there is a strong metallic taste in her mouth, much stronger and more intense than her own blood. With each desperate pull, the weightless feeling fades more and more until she feels heavy again, heavy and hungry. Starving, even. She reaches with both hands to hold the object–the woman’s wrist–against her mouth, drinking, swallowing, her throat no longer feeling like it’s closing in on itself. Out of nowhere, a wave of nausea overtakes her. The blonde is prepared, turning her on her side as Marie vomits all over the shoes of the red-haired man, a mix of blood, her own tissue, the drinks from tonight, and whatever it was she ate earlier. He looks very annoyed, but doesn’t say a word, even as the blonde mumbles, “That’s not even payback.”
Marie can almost feel the tissue of her throat starting to weave itself together, a strange burning sensation present as the blood stops flowing from the messy wound.
“I’m… I’m so thirsty,” she manages, throat clear of all the tissue and blood. The blonde nudges the red-haired man, her eyes flashing bright red for an instant. He heaves a sigh before bringing his own wrist to his still-bloodied mouth, sinking clean, sharp fangs right into the tissue. He leans to offer it to Marie and she grasps his wrist firmly, drawing it to her mouth and latching on, quickly drinking, desperate to swallow as much of the thick, coppery liquid as she can. She continues to pull, eyes closed, feeling every drop enter her throat, feeling the sensation as it slips down into the pit of her stomach. Finally, James pries his wrist away, even as Marie struggles to keep it. He brings it back to his own mouth and licks at the wound until it seems to simply disappear. Marie watches him desperately, practically crying out.
“No! I… I need…” She seems confused as she stares at the blood-smeared wrist of her former assailant. "That."
“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetie,” the blonde coos again, reaching for Marie. She shoots a glare at the man. “Go find Annie. Now.”
