occultists part 01
Wednesday isn’t one person, but three. After a monster session rowing at the gym, fuelled by yesterday’s offering from Lucy and brute determination, you come home to find me ready to head out. First things first: a warm embrace and a deep kiss welcomes you back. “Missed you. Hungry? We’re eating out.”
We meet the trio in a room in the Student Union. I lead us to it directly, despite it being in the bowels of quite an old and architecturally chequered building.
We hear a strident voice before we see the speaker. “—black mass is something entirely different. There’s no suggestion of vampirism, per se. Merely human blood.”
Two girls wait seated, listening to the young man leaning over their table. The clothing is dark or black. The hair is black or in the case of the chubbier of the two girls, ice blue on one side and purple on the other. We are dealing with goths.
The young man looks up as we enter, not shifting from his position where he gesticulates over a table. The girls both stand, taller girl wearing a guarded expression, chubby girl wearing one of fearful anticipation that makes her look heartbreakingly naïve.
“Alastair, Leanne, Trixie, I presume?” I say, striding towards the group and shaking the hands of each in turn. You see Leanne, the chubby girl, hesitate in taking my hand. Her gaze follows me with shy excitement.
You laugh, drawing attention to yourself. Having inferred that I’ve made contact with a paranormal soc or something, you’ve worked out why Leanne is so fascinated with me. Poor girl thinks I’m a vampire.
Three pairs of eyes turn to weigh you up. Against their Gothic finery you’re swaddled in a comfortable burgundy jumper and stretchy leggings, easy wear for after showering at the gym. Even I look more the part of creature of the night, wearing a shirt, waistcoat and magnetic smile.
Trixie clocks you for the real deal, though the others don’t. She’s the only one who sees the glints of extra colour in your eyes. She goes stiff and grabs Leanne’s arm.
“Mr London,” says the neighing voice from before. “Welcome to our little circle.”
“Dr London, if you will. I’m a native here.”
If I’m swinging my dick around I must really not like this character. I’m still smiling, though.
Alastair nods to acknowledge the point. His head is permanently crooked, like his neck doesn’t work, or he’s constantly weighing up the world. “And are you a native of… The kindred?”
“The kindre— Oh! Gosh, no. Kine, through and through.” Leanne looks crestfallen. “Just a friend.”
“In the emails you said you’d prove the existence of… certain beings. I daren’t presume you have brought one with you?” The crooked head swivels to fix you with an unimpressed stare.
Trixie speaks in a low and urgent tone. “I think she’s the real deal, Joe.”
“And she brought herself,” I add as you come to stand beside me, an arm curling absently around my waist. Your gaze hasn’t left Trixie.
Joe, flushing with annoyance that his pseudonym has been breached, has something to prove. “She is?”
“It’s rude to talk about me, Joe. But yes. I’m the real deal.”
With casual familiarity you pluck my arm from your shoulder and bring the wrist to your mouth. Pausing a moment to hold each person’s eye, you reveal shining fangs. You hear me inhale deeply as they drive into my flesh, carving out a little channel for freshly regenerated blood up leap joyously into your red mouth. My body is just as keen as two days ago to feed itself into you.
You take four or five lip-smacking draughts. With moans, lidded eyes and a brief, blushing slurping sound you making a real show of enjoying your snack. When you release my wrist with a kiss you also release a dainty burp. Red colours the insides of your lips.
The three are definitely paying attention know. Trixie looks terrified. Leanne had transferred her fascination to you. Even Joe looks unsure.
He speaks. “My word… There are so many questions I must ask you. First, how did you—”
I interject. “That’s not our arrangement. Perhaps at a future date you may ask questions. For now you are given proof, for which you must pay.” Beside me your grin bares fangs made scarlet with my blood. “Which payment now finds itself due. Who’s first?”
It doesn’t matter. You’ve already chosen. Leanne looks up at you like an overweight gazelle looks at a stalking lion.
“Just a taste,” you say. Blood drains from her face as she takes in the sight of your body. You clearly do not struggle for prey.