Chapter e Crow

The warm movement along his middle made his head relax back, his fingers gripped her rounded hips, and he pulled her harder into himself. Then moistness and warmth… He was inside of her. She was on top of him, thrusting downward, holding herself up by her arms. All the motions looked like a massive wave of brown skin. He wrapped his arms around her, and flipped her over onto her back as he pushed down on her.

The whip stretched her neck, and the next thing he saw was a fat droplet of bright red blood escaping one of the bite holes. Before it glided down he caught it with his tongue. His cheeks flushed hot, and the vibrating pressure against his wrists spasmed so hard that his fingers curled inward.

"Take a part of me," he whispered into her ear. Her eyes were shut, and her mouth was open, smiling. "Will you take me in you?"

"Yes!" she gasped. "Yes, do it!" Her hips thrust him back, begging for him to finish inside of her, but that's not what he meant. It didn't matter. A wave of pleasure burst through his lower half anyways, and a body buzz electrocuted his limbs. He released, and felt a feeling that was incomparable to his human days of masturbation. She held his shoulders hard against her palms, and her breathing was a mix of moans and gasps. "Yes! Yes! Oh, yes!"

He looked down, and another drop had formed, but this one had run away from him. He couldn't not do it. He opened his mouth around her fragile thin neck, and the tips of his teeth glided into her effortlessly. They were so sharp, so ready. And the blood flowed from her easily into him. Her breathing ceased, and her back arched up off of the bed up toward his chest. He wrapped his arm under her, and embraced her firmly. Her thighs were tight around his hips, but as he drank and sucked her supple sweet life, she weakened back into the flow of gravity, and flattened under him.

He disconnected and looked at her square in the face, knowing that he was doing the right thing. He chewed a nice sized slit into his left wrist and his blood splashed over her lips. She was so weak, so helpless, that she had no choice but to swallow what he was giving her. Soon, his blood oozed out from the creases of her lips and splurged out of her nose during a cough, but he still didn't let her go.

Then darkness enveloped his vision, and when he came back, he was lying limp on top of her. His stomach churned, and leaning over the side of the bed, he swallowed and swallowed to prevent anything from coming up. His fingers gripped his temples to try and stop the vibrations in his skull. Woozy, he managed to pull himself back up.

She spun to her side and tightened into the fetal position. It was coming. And as much as he wanted to stay and watch each one of her hairs fall out, and each muscle fiber stretch, break, and rebuild, he couldn't stay for it. He saw his pants sprawled recklessly across the floor and he hassled them over his legs and closed them barely at the zipper. He wobbled up to his flimsy feet, and stumbled to the yellow sweater that he had been wearing.

Opposite of the bed, a tripod stood, holding a camera on top, recording everything. He took it in hand, shut the viewer, and hit the rewind button.

Through the door, he could hear that the music was turned down, and the house was practically empty, as hours had already passed, or maybe even an entire day. Above them through the floor, he heard Aster and Lot talking over their portable TV in the dining room. He leant forward and placed his hand on her rippled back, and whispered, "I'll come back for you."

Then, he stammered through the hallway, and clasping his hands desperately over the stair railing, he struggled his way up to see Aster and Lot's blurry faces over the top step. His toes failed to catch, he slipped and fell face first, dropping the video camera down the stairs. Aster and Lot jumped from their chairs, alarmed, but when they peered down at him and saw his spinning eyes, they simultaneously laughed.

Lot teased, "looks like Bert got to ya." He knelt down on the top step and smiled into Iggy's face. "Did you have fun? Did she pay the price for you?" He glanced past Iggy's head and spotted the camera lying at the bottom of the stairs. "Oh-" he lifted an eyebrow "-And that's your payment?"

Iggy flung his hand up and grasped the top ledge. It was coming, and he needed to get out before they realized what he was capable of. He pulled himself higher and held the railing tight. Just as his legs straightened, Becca's screams echoed through the walls. Lot stood upright. "Whoa, whoa! What's goin' on down there?"

"That's Becca," Aster claimed.

Lot shot a look back at Iggy. His eyebrows were wavy and his upper lip drew up in a look of confusion rather than disgust. "What'd you do with her?" Iggy blinked hard and shook his head quickly. Becca screamed harder, louder, breaking her vocal chords, and even on the upper floor they heard her windpipe shredding from the force. The transformation was beginning, and once they found out what was occurring, they'd never let him go… and he wasn't going to die willingly in their home. The door was so close… He needed to get there.

Iggy turned his torso toward the wall, gripped the shaking trim in-between his fingers, and held himself in a hunchbacked position. The nausea was making another appearance in the soft spot under his left ribs, and if he vomited, it would be bright red or even darkening to what would become a coffee like substance. He closed one eye and turned his head toward Lot. "She's yours, I left a little… go look."

"A little?!" Lot's bulging eyes didn't convey any surprise, or gratitude, but suspicion more than anything. "How'd she be screamin' like that if you only left a little!?" He whipped his head back toward Aster, and his chin rose. "Make sure he doesn't go anywhere. I'm goin' down there." Lot headed down the stairs toward the chaos.

Iggy fumbled to sit, and he slurred his words more so, "I can't go anywhere…" he said. "I'm on drugs." Aster rolled her eyes as if he wasn't really worth her time at all, and slowly stepped toward the top of the stairs.

From the lower level, Lot hollered, "he's infectious!" And that was Iggy's cue to get the fuck out. "He's infectious! Get him!"

Aster was slow on reaction, and only managed to snag the sleeve of his sweater as he leapt to his feet and burst through the front door, soberingly fast. Her grip shredded his shirt in half, taking it in pieces. He ran without it, as fast as he could down the hill and into the woods. The pulling on his soul drove him far away, but the sky above was a glowing blueish green and the direction that he was going in was a warm orange that only meant one awful thing… sunrise.