Wolf House (Potter's Story) by Tim O'Rourke Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tim O'Rourke
before.
We had made love before, but never had it felt as intense as this. I hadn’t been back to The Hollows now for several weeks and that itch – the one that told me I wanted blood - had grown worse. It was agony. I had discovered that tobacco eased it slightly. The need for the tobacco was sometimes stronger then my lust for blood and it masked those cravings, but not tonight. I pressed her flat against the bed and she writhed beneath me and gasped, but not out of fear. Not yet, anyhow.
“I want you, Sophie,” I groaned. “I want all of you.”
“Then take me,” she whispered against my chest, and I thought my heart was going to explode. But she didn’t realise how I wanted to take her. I wasn’t talking about making love to her, I wasn’t playing a role in some kinky love game, I was talking about ripping her throat out and gorging myself on her blood.
My whole body shuddered and my back arched again, but not out of lust or desire, but because I could feel my spine stretching out of shape, making room for my wings that just wanted to be free. I felt my jaw lock tight as I fought to hide my fangs, and I gripped the bed sheets in an attempt to stop my fingers turning into claws.
Why hadn’t I gone back to The Hollows? I knew why I hadn’t, because I’d met her – Sophie. I’d become besotted with her. She had become my new drug; she had become the thing that I couldn’t bear to live without. But it hadn’t just been me. Sophie had fallen in love with me too, except really she hadn’t. She had fallen in love with what she thought was the real me. Sophie believed she was in love with a human just like her – but I wasn’t human, I was a monster, a vampire bat – a Vampyrus.
Over the last several weeks since meeting her, there had been so many times that our love for each other had deepened and I’d wanted to tell her about the real me and show her the real me. She loved me, right? Wouldn’t she, therefore, love me regardless? It was a decision that I’d put off for fear of being rejected. But tonight, as I wrestled with my lust for the red stuff, it was going to be a decision that was made for me.
Throwing her arms around my neck and wrapping her legs about me, she pulled me close and I couldn’t fight it anymore. Crying out in pain, my back made a cracking sound as if every one of my ribs were breaking. I pulled myself from her, and kneeling, I threw my head back as my fangs shot from my gums and sprayed her with a jet of ice-cold blood. Clutching at the air with my hands, my fingers stretched as my curved, black claws appeared like a set of knives. With my heart pounding in my ears, I felt them twist as they grew into points. Then, the worst part: I could feel my nose changing shape, as if invisible fingers had been thrust up my nostrils and were yanking my head backwards. Wiry, black hair bristled from every part of my naked body and then the pain was gone. I only felt joy and pleasure as my true self was set free and my giant black wings beat behind me.
Then, the sound of screaming took the pleasure away. I looked down at Sophie who had now crawled away up the bed, the sheet pulled up under her chin. Tears ran from her wide, open eyes, and I could see a stream of my blood running down her face, dripping onto the white sheet in rose-shaped patterns.
I held out one my giant claws towards her and her screaming became even more high-pitched.
“Sophie!” I said, but even my voice had changed; it was deep and sounded as if I were gargling on a throat full of gravel.
Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed uncontrollably and turned away from me.
“Sophie,” I tried again, “You don’t have to be scared – it’s just me, Sean.”
“Get away from me!” she shrieked, kicking out with her feet that were entangled in the bedding.
“Sophie, let me explain,” my voice boomed. But how could I ever begin to explain? How could I possibly even begin to tell her that I was a vampire
We had made love before, but never had it felt as intense as this. I hadn’t been back to The Hollows now for several weeks and that itch – the one that told me I wanted blood - had grown worse. It was agony. I had discovered that tobacco eased it slightly. The need for the tobacco was sometimes stronger then my lust for blood and it masked those cravings, but not tonight. I pressed her flat against the bed and she writhed beneath me and gasped, but not out of fear. Not yet, anyhow.
“I want you, Sophie,” I groaned. “I want all of you.”
“Then take me,” she whispered against my chest, and I thought my heart was going to explode. But she didn’t realise how I wanted to take her. I wasn’t talking about making love to her, I wasn’t playing a role in some kinky love game, I was talking about ripping her throat out and gorging myself on her blood.
My whole body shuddered and my back arched again, but not out of lust or desire, but because I could feel my spine stretching out of shape, making room for my wings that just wanted to be free. I felt my jaw lock tight as I fought to hide my fangs, and I gripped the bed sheets in an attempt to stop my fingers turning into claws.
Why hadn’t I gone back to The Hollows? I knew why I hadn’t, because I’d met her – Sophie. I’d become besotted with her. She had become my new drug; she had become the thing that I couldn’t bear to live without. But it hadn’t just been me. Sophie had fallen in love with me too, except really she hadn’t. She had fallen in love with what she thought was the real me. Sophie believed she was in love with a human just like her – but I wasn’t human, I was a monster, a vampire bat – a Vampyrus.
Over the last several weeks since meeting her, there had been so many times that our love for each other had deepened and I’d wanted to tell her about the real me and show her the real me. She loved me, right? Wouldn’t she, therefore, love me regardless? It was a decision that I’d put off for fear of being rejected. But tonight, as I wrestled with my lust for the red stuff, it was going to be a decision that was made for me.
Throwing her arms around my neck and wrapping her legs about me, she pulled me close and I couldn’t fight it anymore. Crying out in pain, my back made a cracking sound as if every one of my ribs were breaking. I pulled myself from her, and kneeling, I threw my head back as my fangs shot from my gums and sprayed her with a jet of ice-cold blood. Clutching at the air with my hands, my fingers stretched as my curved, black claws appeared like a set of knives. With my heart pounding in my ears, I felt them twist as they grew into points. Then, the worst part: I could feel my nose changing shape, as if invisible fingers had been thrust up my nostrils and were yanking my head backwards. Wiry, black hair bristled from every part of my naked body and then the pain was gone. I only felt joy and pleasure as my true self was set free and my giant black wings beat behind me.
Then, the sound of screaming took the pleasure away. I looked down at Sophie who had now crawled away up the bed, the sheet pulled up under her chin. Tears ran from her wide, open eyes, and I could see a stream of my blood running down her face, dripping onto the white sheet in rose-shaped patterns.
I held out one my giant claws towards her and her screaming became even more high-pitched.
“Sophie!” I said, but even my voice had changed; it was deep and sounded as if I were gargling on a throat full of gravel.
Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed uncontrollably and turned away from me.
“Sophie,” I tried again, “You don’t have to be scared – it’s just me, Sean.”
“Get away from me!” she shrieked, kicking out with her feet that were entangled in the bedding.
“Sophie, let me explain,” my voice boomed. But how could I ever begin to explain? How could I possibly even begin to tell her that I was a vampire