The Hunt
It was raining cats and dogs outside. The rain was torrential, giving the patrons in the local dive bar an excuse to stay and down another pint.
The bar was bubbling with the excitement of those who found shelter from the rain, those who were there to watch the hockey game, or those just there to have a good time.
Irina sat at the end of the bar, sipping on her beer bottle. She noticed the glances from the men, they always looked. It often amused her how entranced they were, trying to steal glances at her but ultimately staring.
She enjoyed the power she had over them. Inviting as they were though, she would not be distracted. She was there for one person and one person only. She had to be patient, he would show up.
She had gone far too long without indulging and it had begun to affect her. She hated how dependent she was, the bloodthirsty manner with which it consumed her. She wanted to quit, to do it for Mark, but it was impossible.
Although her cravings had dwindled in frequency, they were still an unavoidable desire. An unavoidable desire that, sadly, she needed to survive. This time it was bad and she was desperate, hence why she found herself in a bar drinking a bottle of beer she found to be utterly distasteful, waiting for a man to show up.
A group of men barged into the bar, loud and energetic. White-collar finance bros looking to get a pint or two and watch the game. She could smell the testosterone and cocaine oozing off them.
She could also spot him, he was among them. Her heart quickened, the head high gradually setting in. Oh, how she missed the thrill. She saw him walking towards the bar from her periphery. Show time.
“Hey, Jimbo! Can I get a couple of Bud Lights? Chop chop, buddy, or they’ll have both our heads.” He chuckled with a boyish grin. He was handsome, with dark brown hair, beautiful facial features, and a winning smile. Your typical golden boy.
He was hot shit and he knew it. She liked to read them before she took her first line of action, gauging how best to approach them. They were all men after all, simple creatures at the core, but the little nuances, their peculiarities, made for a more interesting hunt.
In an instant, she got a read on him. He was self-absorbed, and borderline narcissistic. He knew people liked him and he used it to his advantage.
He caught her staring at him. Hands full of beer, he gave her a wink and a smile. She smiled back. He promptly returned to his friends and dropped the drinks at their table.
Picking up a bottle, he whispered something to the group which elicited a loud cheer from the table. He was going to make a move. She pretended not to notice all of this and was focused on the sports game, knowing nothing about what sport was on. His distinguishable smell announced his arrival.
“Hey”, he said with all the suave of years of experience picking up women at bars "You enjoying the game?"
She waited for a split second before turning towards him. "I'm not a sports person. I just dropped in to get a drink and shelter from the rain." She knew he was attracted to her, most men were.H
e wasn’t one to mask his intentions either, staring at her purposefully exposed cleavage. She loved the hunt. He would be easier than most others.
"Well, maybe you might want some company then. My name’s Chester. What’s yours?”
“Irina.”
“Well that’s a beautiful name, sounds European”
“Yeah, I’m from Romania.” She took a swig of her beer. “Transylvania.”
"Oh, that's cool. I've been there once, on a business trip with a couple of associates………." She wasn't paying attention. She was too focused on suppressing the urge to rush him.
He went to the gym, she could tell and he was well put together, typical of most men in finance. He spoke incessantly about himself and his travels, leaving little room for her to apply herself to the conversation beyond an occasional nod, which she appreciated. That was his way of attracting women, using affluence. But she wanted something else.
“Hey, want to head over to my place? This place is getting super crowded and noisy.”’
“Sure, let’s do it.” She bit her bottom lip.
They stood to leave the bar, and he gave a celebratory nod to his friends as they did. The signal of conquest, another piece of ass to spend the night with.
They took an Uber to his penthouse and spent even more time talking about his wealth and his financial exploits and things of that nature. All the while, she could only think of how he would taste.
The urges were getting stronger and she couldn’t suppress them much longer. With every twitch of his muscle and every vein that moved, she could feel the feral urges surfacing. She had determined to never act without any provocation however, she’d made that promise to Mark. So she just had to wait.
She was familiar with Chester’s modus operandi. He would invite girls over to his place for drinks, drug them, and then have his way with them. Heinous crimes that had hitherto gone unpunished, despite the numerous claims by multiple victims.
Of course, compared to her previous encounters with murders and people with way worse rap sheets, he was in the minor leagues. Still, he was a predator and the most attainable option. She felt that was enough validation for what she did, they were all bad people who deserved it.
Although the sedatives did not affect her, she drifted into faux unconsciousness. It made her feel silly, but her new moral compass required that he make the move before she acted. That way, she was justified.
And make a move, he did. He set down his glass with a crooked, evil smile. She was unconscious. He took off his jacket and got on top of her.
Yes, finally, she thought.
He was startled as she sat up and kissed his neck in one fell swoop. Only when he felt the sharp pain in his neck and the warmth that followed, did he realize that she wasn’t giving him a hickey.
She was biting him hard, drawing blood. He let out a scream that she immediately muffled with her hand as she continued to feast, ensuring that no drop was wasted. Her eyes watered as she fed with joy, it had been too long.
When she had drained him of enough blood, he fell unconscious and she let go of him. His body dropped with a loud thud onto the carpeted floor.
She felt a lot better. The tremors had subsided and she felt stronger. After thousands of years of being burdened with this curse, she still couldn't help but begrudge it.
Eternal youth and beauty beyond measure, but at what cost? A dependence on human blood to maintain her sanity and survival. She hated who she was and what she had to do to survive. What made it slightly easier to go through with it was the fact that she went for the scum of the earth.
She wiped the residual blood on her lips with her finger and sucked it off. Clean, as always. She stared down at his near-lifeless body. What do I do with this?
She picked up his body with one hand and walked towards the terrace. Disposal of the body was usually a lot easier, she fed in less opulent places like the alleyway or a dingy apartment. Her mind was working a way out.
She walked the body to the edge of the terrace and stared down. A 20-storey drop should do the trick, and help draw attention from the bite marks. Besides, he was a known alcoholic and drug abuser, so suicide was not inexplicable. She threw him over the balustrade and walked away.
She had to get home to Mark. Of course, he was complicit, providing her with the information she needed on her potential victims by poring over several public records and criminal databases.
She knew he didn’t enjoy it, but he knew what he signed up for when he married a vampire. He was the only reason she controlled the frequency and randomness of her kills. It wasn’t easy, but she loved him enough to do it.
Besides, they only went after people who deserved to die, so fair game, right? She checked her watch, it was almost 10 pm. Mark would have put their son to bed by now. She walked out to the terrace and could still hear the screams of people and the sound of sirens on the sidewalk below.
With a graceful flicker, her form shifted, transforming into a bat. She flew home to her husband and their son.