Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Flash Fiction Challenge

So, Chuck Wendig is having this little contest. 1000 Words. Subject? Death. So here is my entry:

(yes, its a so I apologize in advance to anyone I might offend *cough* family members *cough*, but it's what popped into my head)

I never thought I would be a card carrying member of the 27 Club. Twenty-seven is a crappy age to die, especially in such a humiliating way. I should have known Alex wouldn’t be able to keep his shit together.
I thought we were being smart. We’d talked about taking our relationship to the next step for months. It wasn’t like the sex part was new to us. We’d been playing at friends with benefits for over a year. But Alex kept talking how much better it would be if I just trusted him enough to try it. Everybody I asked said it would be okay as long as we were careful. We’d even created a safe word. “Day-Oh.” It was a joke between us. When we were ready to call it a night, we would sing that stupid song. You know the one: “Day-Oh. Day-Oh. Daylight come and me want to go home.” It really meant, “I’m done. Get the fuck out.”
Day-Oh seemed like such a perfect word for “stop”.
Fat lot of good it was doing me now.
Alex had me pinned to the bed, his big body over me, my wrists clamped in his large hands to hold me down, not that I was fighting him. His body moved in mine in a rhythm that I was familiar with but had long since stopped enjoying tonight. I didn’t dare move at all for fear it would push him further over the edge, but I was dangerously close to losing consciousness. Considering how much he was enjoying my submission, fear would probably send him right over the top.
“Day-oh, Alex. Oh fuck, come on. Day-oh.” I couldn’t believe how warbly and weak my voice was, not that it would help. His mouth didn’t budge. His fangs were sunk as deep as he could get them into my throat. The rumbling noises coming from him sounded like a cat purring, only bigger and more psychotic. This was not the fun loving, party animal Alex who sang Jimmy Buffet when he’d had too many jello shots.
I didn’t know this Alex. This Alex was fucking predator.
If I survived this Jacinda was going to kill me. She’d warned me that some vampires lost themselves in the bloodlust of sex mixed with feeding. She’d begged me not to do it. But Alex had insisted that losing control almost never happened, and that it had never happened to him. I believed him.
Who would have thought Jacinda would be right?
I could feel how hard my heart was working, erratic, the blood flowing in my collapsing veins weak and thready. The sparkly little stars in my vision were wreaking havoc with my eyesight. I blinked in an effort to clear it, but my lids felt as dry and gummy as my throat.
You’d think Alex would have picked up on my distress. But no. He was having too much fun. And just when things started to go a little black around the edges, he started pounding into me. I could actually hear him swallowing as he sucked fiercely. With one final powerful thrust, he came. His teeth retracted from my abused throat and he shouted with his orgasm.
After a ridiculously long moment where I wondered what the morgue would say to my parents when they came to identify me, he lowered his mouth to my neck again, this time lapping at it gently, sealing off the wound. Jesus.
My heart was in its death throws and he was cozying up.
How is it possible that one man (granted Alex is six foot two and built like a lumberjack) consume that much blood? I mean, I know he’s a vampire. And at 125 lbs., I probably have less blood than the average 6 pints - before he turned me into a human slurpee. But even half that amount should be tough to drink down for anybody.
“Oh baby, that was so fucking awesome.” Alex whispered in his ‘sexy voice’, all husky and dark. Usually, I thought it was funny. Today, I just wanted him to get off and shut up. “You were amazing, Cass.”
Yeah. That’s me. The amazing, nearly dead girl. I tried to clear my throat so that I could tell him exactly what I was thinking at the moment about his post-coital dirty talk, but it came out more like a gurgle. Talk about frustrating.
“Cass?” His deep voice took on a concerned tone. I tried to focus on it without much luck. I think he finally realized something was wrong, because decided to shake me like a rag doll. I was going to stake him with the thickest broom handle I could find.
“Oh shit! Cass? Come on.” Great. Now he was panicking. Better late than never, I guess. I wanted to open my eyes and glare at him. I wanted to move, but my stupid body wouldn’t obey. I couldn’t even lift my hand. And it wasn’t like the jerk had moved off me. Or out of me, for that matter. He was primed and ready for round two, something I’d always appreciated about him. Now it just pissed me off.
Something hard smacked my face. I gasped, wedged open my eyes, and wished I hadn’t. His jaw was coated with my blood. His eyes were glowing just a little like a cat’s at night. It freaked me out.
“Cass?” He looked as scared as I felt.
I managed two words. “Call. Ambulance.”  
He lurched away from me and scrambled off the bed. For a second, he just stood there looking at me in horror. “Oh shit. Shit!”
Then he did the damnedest thing. He grabbed his pants off the floor and left the room at a run. Right into the bathroom. I could hear him in there puking. He drank my fucking blood and now he was regurgitating it? What a fucking waste.
If I survived, I was never letting him touch me again. 

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