Paint It Black by Nancy A. Collins Read Free Book Online

purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) Why don't you fuck him? He wants it bad. So do you. You can't hide that from me. The Other's voice is a nettle wedged into the folds of my brain, impossible to dislodge or ignore. I open the refrigerator and take out a bottle of whole blood, cracking its seal open as I would a beer.

    Not that bottled crap again! I hate this shit! You might as well go back to drinking cats! Wouldn't you rather have something nice and fresh? Say a nice group B mugger or a group o rapist? There's still plenty of time to go trawling before the sun comes up ... Or you could always pay a visit to lover boy.

    'Shut up! I've had a bellyful of you tonight already!'

    My-my! Aren't we being the touchy one? Tell me, how long do you think you can keep up the pretense of being normal? You've almost forgotten what it's like to be human yourself. Why torture yourself by pretending you're something you're not simply to win the favor of a piece of beefsteak?

    'He likes me, damn it He actually likes me.'

    And what, exactly, are you?

    'I'm not in the mood for your fuckin' mind games!'

    Welcome to the fold, my dear. You're finally one of us. You're a Pretender.

    I shriek and hurl the half-finished bottle of blood into the sink, I pick up the card table and smash it to the floor, jumping up and down on the scattered pieces. It is a stupid, pointless gesture, but it makes me feel better.

    I keep calling him. I know it's stupid, even dangerous, to socialize with humans, but I can't help myself. There is something about him that keeps drawing'me back, despite my better judgment.
    The only other time I've known such compulsion is when the Thirst is on me. Is this love? Or is it simply another form of hunger?

    Our relationship, while charged with an undercurrent of eroticism, is essentially sexless. I want him so badly I dare not do more than kiss or hold hands. If I should lose control, there is no telling what might happen.

    judd, unlike Palmer, is not a sensitive. He is a human, blind and dumb to the miracles and terrors of the Real World, just like poor, doomed Claude Hagerty was. Rapid exposure to the world I inhabit could do immense damage.

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) To his credit, Judd has not pressed the sex issue overmuch.
    He is not happy with the arrangement but honors my request that we 'take it slow'.

    This, however, does not sit well with the Other. It constantly taunts me, goading me with obscene fantasies and suggestions concerning Judd. Or, failing to elicit a response using those tactics, it chastises me for being untrue to Palmer. I try to ignore its jibes as best I can, but I know that something, somewhere is bound to snap.

    From the diaries ofSonja Blue.

    Kitty wiped at the tears oozing from the corners of her eyes, smearing mascara all over her cheek and the back of her hand. It made the words on the paper swim and crawl like insects, but she didn't care.

    She loved him. She really, truly loved him. And maybe now, after she'd done what she had to do to save him, he'd finally believe her. Proof. He needed proof of her love. And what better proof than to rescue him from the clutches of a monster?

    Dearest Judd,

    I tried to warn you about That Woman. But you are blind to what she Really Is. She is Evil Itself, a demon sent from Hell to claim your Soul! I knew her for what she truly is the moment I first saw her, and she knew I knew! Her hands and mouth drip blood! Her eyes burn with the fires of Hell! She is surrounded by a cloud of red energy. Red as blood. She means to drag you to Hell, Judd. But I won't let her. I love you too much, to let that happen. I'll take care of this horrible monster, don't you worry. I've been talking to God a lot lately, and He told me how to deal with demons like her. I Love you so very, very much. I want you to Love me too. I'm doing this all for you. Please Love