The Club...
The club was amazing tonight. An endless sea of hot costumed bodies dancing under the strobe lights. I made my way through the crowd, probably one of the few in the building not wearing a costume. Yet tonight was different. Tonight I did not need to take any great measures to conceal my pale skin, or to hide that predatory glint in my eyes and the show of long white fangs whenever I happened to flash a smile. No, tonight I was able to be exactly who and what I am. Nothing more, nothing less. This is the one night of the year when I am able to step out of the shadows and reveal my true nature to all the world.
Ah, but I have always been the exhibitionist, so to speak. This brings to mind memories of a time long ago when I was not permitted to walk the streets of Paris alone... and for good reason. There is an indescribable thrill in seeing that look of recognition in a person’s eyes when they come close enough to really gaze upon me and realise that I am not what I appear to be. I fed on their fear in almost the same way that I fed on their blood. It was the one thing I had back then that he could not take away from me. Oh, of course he tried his best to keep me under control, but there were times when I would slip away, into the crowded streets and pull aside some gorgeous young stranger to reveal all of our secrets and to give him a glimpse of the monsters that lurk in the shadows of the City of Lights. Whether anyone believed me or not was of no consequence to me at the time. It was the fact that I had unveiled that which was kept so closely guarded that thrilled me most of all. Those brief moments of exhilaration were well worth the punishment that was certain to follow.
Those thoughts swam through my mind as I crossed the dance floor. Faces painted as pale as my own smiled back at me with plastic fangs. Arms covered in black lace and fake blood wrapped around my shoulders attempting to entice me into dancing. For once, I gave into the temptation. I danced with some scantily clad young creature of the night as she whispered words I could barely hear into my ear. As I held that warm body close to mine I thought to myself, I could take her aside and tell her exactly what I am... Hell, I could even give her a private demonstration. There was no one there to stop me, nothing holding me back... not this time. I would have loved to see those charcoal black eyes widen in shock as I revealed to her what so few will ever know and live to tell about.
Somehow I managed to resist the urge.
Perhaps self-control is a thing which develops over time, but I halted that overwhelming desire to give her a taste of my world and I walked away. Have I developed some twisted sense of responsibility in my old age? I doubt it. This was merely one risk I chose not to take. For once in a long existence I have actual priorities and want nothing to jeopardize what I have now.
I left the club with a clean conscience and no blood on my hands.
Ah, but I have always been the exhibitionist, so to speak. This brings to mind memories of a time long ago when I was not permitted to walk the streets of Paris alone... and for good reason. There is an indescribable thrill in seeing that look of recognition in a person’s eyes when they come close enough to really gaze upon me and realise that I am not what I appear to be. I fed on their fear in almost the same way that I fed on their blood. It was the one thing I had back then that he could not take away from me. Oh, of course he tried his best to keep me under control, but there were times when I would slip away, into the crowded streets and pull aside some gorgeous young stranger to reveal all of our secrets and to give him a glimpse of the monsters that lurk in the shadows of the City of Lights. Whether anyone believed me or not was of no consequence to me at the time. It was the fact that I had unveiled that which was kept so closely guarded that thrilled me most of all. Those brief moments of exhilaration were well worth the punishment that was certain to follow.
Those thoughts swam through my mind as I crossed the dance floor. Faces painted as pale as my own smiled back at me with plastic fangs. Arms covered in black lace and fake blood wrapped around my shoulders attempting to entice me into dancing. For once, I gave into the temptation. I danced with some scantily clad young creature of the night as she whispered words I could barely hear into my ear. As I held that warm body close to mine I thought to myself, I could take her aside and tell her exactly what I am... Hell, I could even give her a private demonstration. There was no one there to stop me, nothing holding me back... not this time. I would have loved to see those charcoal black eyes widen in shock as I revealed to her what so few will ever know and live to tell about.
Somehow I managed to resist the urge.
Perhaps self-control is a thing which develops over time, but I halted that overwhelming desire to give her a taste of my world and I walked away. Have I developed some twisted sense of responsibility in my old age? I doubt it. This was merely one risk I chose not to take. For once in a long existence I have actual priorities and want nothing to jeopardize what I have now.
I left the club with a clean conscience and no blood on my hands.