Innocence Is Dripping Red by EchoesOfTwilight COMPLETE.pdf

Fanfiction Based On Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight Series

Rated MA for Language & Sexual Content. Over 18 ONLY!

Innocence Is Dripping Red

By EchoesOfTwilight

Summary: Darkward Vampfic. A bored and jaded Edward has his own way of spicing up his lonely existence

until a chance meeting makes him question what he thought he knew about his life.

Once you’ve read and enjoyed this story, whey not show the author some love, and take the time to review

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5480253/1/Innocence_Is_Dripping_Red

Chapter One ~ Innocence is Dripping Red

The streets were dark, quiet...perfect. I had ventured far enough away that the strains of music no

longer reached even my skilled ears.

I would encounter none of them here. They had served their purpose, and would remain safe from

me.

But what I wanted was nearby. Oh, yes. My body thrummed with want as I let my mind flit through

the images it had stolen, so quickly they blurred into fragmented words that mixed with the

thoughts of my approaching victim.

They were more similar than perhaps I wanted to admit, the thoughts that drove his footsteps and

my own.

Hot. Wet. Soft. Take. Scream.

But only I would be satisfied tonight. He would never again know the bliss of fulfilment, and that

was my gift to the world.

I concentrated on one of the evening's more delicious visuals as his scent grew stronger in my

nostrils, the only part of me that moved as I hid in a shadowy doorway. He did not smell good

enough to incite my bloodlust – nothing did, anymore – and it was for that reason that my hunting

now had to take place in stages. It was why I needed the images.

The boy was young – not much older than I looked – but he did not lack experience. Neither did the girl

he pulled into the bathroom stall, both laughing through frenzied kisses. She bit his lip hard and we

both moaned at the feeling, though his was the only one she heard.

The man was coming closer, his thoughts predatory and vile. We both enjoyed the hunt, but in his

case the accompanying pain and misery added a desirable spice. For me, it was merely a means to

an end. I sank back into my mind, keeping only the bare minimum of attention on the piece of

human scum in order to monitor his movements.

Clothes tore under fingertips as the couple surrendered to the aching need for skin against skin.

Buttons popped and fell clattering against tiles, zippers opened with sighs of relief. He pushed the lace

of her bra out of the way and we were both greeted with the sight of smooth flesh and pink nipples.

Nearly. Nearly...

I allowed the movie to continue to play in my mind as the man rounded the corner, too intent on his

own prey to sense that he wasn't alone. Quickly I scanned my surroundings to ensure that I

wouldn't be caught, though it wasn't going to take long. I got no pleasure from drawing out this part

of my ritual.

He didn't have time to scream out loud, but his mind was faster. Vindication came when he silenced

the shrieks inside his head and allowed the reality of his own death to hit him.

As his blood ran down my throat and warmed my belly, his final thoughts were of regret. Not for the

things he had done in his short, violent life, but for all of the bodies he would not be able to leave,

broken and still, in his wake.

Yes. He deserved this end.

With each mouthful I remembered the couple in the bathroom, the pace of my swallows exactly

matched to the boy's thrusts and the girl's breathy gasps. When the cretin was drained of every last

drop I swiftly removed a nearby manhole cover and dumped his body into the sewer, disposing of

him like the waste he was.

It was inelegant, to complete my rite in the doorway to which I retreated again, but that could not be

helped. Waiting until I returned home would dull the experience with time and distance – and I did

not want that for the only pleasure I knew.

He moved harder now, faster inside her, spurred on by her keening cries and the sharpened

fingernails that clutched at his shoulders. Her legs wrapped more tightly around his waist as her back

slammed rhythmically into the thin, cheap wood of the door. As she tightened around him he slipped

his hand down to where they were joined, touching her firmly, and was rewarded with a cry of ecstasy.

Her release triggered his, and he shuddered inside her as his mind blanked with lust and euphoria.

That was where my thoughts parted from the boy's. His act was complete, his climax rolling through

him and into her – binding them together for those few heartbeats. Arms held him as he twitched

and grunted, because even in sex between virtual strangers, there is romance in the pursuit of

mutual gratification.

No embrace warmed me, no willing body received me as I came, panting unnecessary breaths that

were swallowed by the cool night air. I was, as always, alone.

~*~

I was one of the lucky few not forced to stand outside in the rain, shivering with cold and wet,

praying for the line into the steamy heat to move faster.

Not that I would have shivered; cold was a foreign concept to me. But it was nice not to have the

elegant drape of my clothing ruined by the weight of water.

The doormen knew me here, and were good as such men went. I would have to move on to a new

place soon, but for the moment they were discreet, never voicing their observations that I didn't

look a day older than I had when I first started haunting their establishment.

Haunting. That was truer than they knew.

My first time here had been with Alice, who had only wanted to sample the atmosphere of the club

and dragged me along, knowing that the emotions running high would be far too much for Jasper,

her husband and my brother, to bear. I had reluctantly agreed, because denying Alice took far more

fortitude than I possessed when it came to those few people I loved. Platonic, familial love was the

only kind I had ever known, but I felt it strongly. I would do anything for them.

Or almost anything. I would not give this up.

Alice had woven her tiny body through the teeming, heaving crowd, her grip on my hand

deceptively strong, even for our kind. I wondered if she had visions of me trying to make a break for

it, to escape the screaming thoughts and pumping basslines and pulsating lights.

But I would not, she must have known that. I loved it instantly.

Every week since that first time, I had flashed a smile at the bouncers, careful all the while to hide

my teeth, and swept into this intriguing heaven alone. Alice stayed home, guilty at the idea of

leaving Jasper behind again. As the only unpaired member of our coven, I felt no such restrictions.

This was bliss, or as close to it as I had ever found. Goths , these children of the night called

themselves, and I laughed at my labeling of them because technically, most of them were older than

the age of seventeen, at which I had been frozen for almost a century.

They swayed and writhed to the music, all black hair and metal adornments and torn lace.

Beautiful, in the way a painting is...something to look at objectively, but I never wanted to become

one with the art. I was alone, and I had accepted that reality long ago.

Still, I found it easier to be myself – or at least, the creature I was – here in this darkened club than

in any other place I had ever found. I gorged on the thoughts of lust and blood and death the music

inspired in those around me, enjoying their proximity because they were unusual in their lack of

instinct to shy away. Most humans were wary, knowing I was other even if they could not put their

warm, frail fingers on the difference.

Here my pale skin, my red eyes, my gleaming teeth were not to be feared...they were coveted. I was

what they wanted to be, even if the pictures in their minds were inspired by fairy tales and

Hollywood. I was what they secretly desired.

I was what this music romanticized, what this culture revered.

Vampire .

A body crashed into me, and I flinched a second too late – I had barely felt it. But the boy was too far

gone on human poisons to notice, registering instead the crimson gleam of my eyes that could not

be blamed on the lights.

Nice contacts, man. The thought broke through the haze of alcohol in his mind.

They're not contact lenses, kid.

I never fed from this buffet, delectable though I was sure the dishes would have been. My agreement

with my father of sorts, Carlisle, was that I wouldn't take the lives of innocents...by our own

definition of innocent. If I were to ask any of the hundreds around me they would spill their crimes,

but the offenses were all petty and built up in their minds because doing so made them feel

important. Theft, sex with someone who belonged to another, drugs. Nothing worth my final

judgment.

Instead, I drank their thoughts, soaking up their palpable adrenaline to fuel myself for the cretins I

did hunt.

Murderers, rapists...monsters. I may have been no better, but I had strength and speed on my side,

and that was justification of a sort. Why have these things, if not to use them?

Carlisle would disagree, of course. He and the rest of my family followed a more...unorthodox

vampire diet, living solely on the blood of animals, abstaining from the taking of human life. He

forgave me my transgressions out of guilt, his compassion too strong to withhold one of the few

pleasures I had. I was his firstborn, his first creation, the cure for his loneliness. Shortly after, he

had found his mate, my beloved mother Esme, and the mantle of solitude was passed from father to

son.

Others had joined us since. Rosalie, who I discovered later was intended to be mine, though she

would never have inspired my love, and Emmett, my hulking brother whom Rosalie had saved from

certain death. She knew at first sight that he would be hers...I envied her that.

Jasper and Alice turned up on our doorstep already a pair, more in love than even a vampire couple

– who feel emotions more strongly than humans – ever had a right to be.

The truth was I was bored, and forced to borrow the passions of others because I could muster none

of my own.

I moved amongst the crowd, letting their thoughts fill my mind as the cloud of smoke and sex and

human flooded my senses. Yes. This was what I needed to build my excitement, so that when I took

down some poor excuse for a human on the rain-dampened streets later, I would have these

adopted memories of carnal pleasure to drive my bloodlust.

Bloodlust. It's like any other desire, really. Consuming, delicious, passionate...and dissatisfying if

exercised with the wrong victim.

For a vampire, it is all connected. Blood and sex, want and need. I had only ever sampled the first

course. Dinner, without dessert.

My eyes lit on a pair of girls in the corner, entwined bodies mimicking their tongues. Not my chosen

form of sexual entertainment, but their need for each other was undeniable...each thinking of ways

to lure the other out of the club. More, their minds screamed. I need more.

Yes, ladies. So do I.

The dance floor was a seething mating ritual, a socially acceptable orgy of flesh and bone and

rhythm, bodies pressing closer as the beats got heavier.

Oooh, he's pretty.

I was used to that. All vampires are, it's part of the trap. Wasted in my family, except in the

bedrooms of the three mated pairs. Mountain lions care little for ice-white skin and perfect

features. In my own case it was equally pointless. Never had I wanted one of my targets to find me

physically attractive...and never had I wanted any of the many human girls – or boys – who did.

It was just something I lived with; I didn't even think about it. A hundred years brings with it an

awful lot of status quo.

More sex, more death as I neared the center of the throng, the vibrations of the club running in

electrical currents from floor to ceiling, passing through the bodies and igniting a feeling that would

only be assuaged in groups of two – or perhaps more, in some cases. It amazed me that any of these

humans could see through the air made heavy with sweat and smoke – but then, they were more

concerned with feeling than sight. That was good for me.

I heard the scrape of teeth on flesh, and turned to see a couple next to me, the boy's head nestled

against the long column of her throat. The parody made me laugh – this imitation of something they

believed wasn't real, but desperately wanted to be.

Last Halloween I'd come here for a party. Almost all of them had been wearing fangs.

My "costume" was better. What was the line from that horrendous film Alice had made me watch?

Vampires pretending to be humans pretending to be vampires, how very avant garde.

Indeed.

I allowed my body to sway, hearing the swish of my black silk trousers as clearly as the music

blasting through the many speakers. The thoughts were at their thickest here...this is where I

always found what I came for.

I want her tongue all over me.

I want him to lay me down and bite me everywhere.

Just wait until she finds out what else I have pierced.

Damn, she's wet already.

I smelled her before I felt her...I was certain it was a her. Strawberries...freesias...thick, pulsing

blood. She was delicious. The most tempting thing I had ever encountered in all my years as a

vampire.

I wanted to bite, drink, swallow, devour. My throat scorched with need for her.

But no...I had more control than that; I just needed to remember what she was. I tried to pick her

mind out from the crowd, knowing it would be useless. The thoughts were a seething, tangled ball of

strings with no end to tug. She'd be in there somewhere; I might have more luck if I heard her voice.

She pressed against my back then, and my body electrified. I turned swiftly – perhaps too swiftly –

but her face registered no surprise.

Her face. Dear God, she was beautiful. Skin almost as pale as mine, were it not for the delectable

pooling of blood in her cheeks as she blushed. Deep chocolate eyes framed in heavy lines of black.

Hair I was sure was her natural shade of dark brown. Lips stained a deep, blood red.

Blood was absolutely the last thing I should think about when looking at this creature. But I couldn't

help it. Her pulse beat in her ivory neck under smooth, translucent skin. And her smell, it was

everywhere, inciting in me an unquenchable fire.

Unquenchable – because killing her, even if I broke my own rules, would not satisfy me. Oh, it would

be pleasure of the highest order, but not of the kind I desired for the first time in my too-long life.

I wanted to lick, kiss, suck, thrust. I wanted to devour but leave her alive so I could do it again and

again and again.

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika: