There was just something about her. Something about the way she moved. She wasn’t like the other girls at the party – she was dark and mysterious. She had this aura, this silken web spun out from her, tantalizing me, calling me, pulling me in. But she was clearly out of my league – she’d never even talk to someone like me.
And so I was surprised to find us in her dorm room, her hands all over me and mine on her, caressing her pale skin and tracing the long flowing lines of her tattoos as we kissed.
She pushed me down onto her tiny unmade bed and it creaked. She kissed me hard on the mouth and stood back.
“I wanna put on a record,” she said. She unearthed some vinyl from a mess of LPs in the corner, piled in their dust jackets like bones, and set it onto the player nearby. The record spun and music filled the room.
She crawled back onto the bed and mounted me and we kissed passionately. How had I come to be here? What had we even talked about? Who was she? God, I was drunk. She fell down onto me and began kissing my neck.
My surprise only grew when I felt her teeth plunge into me, two sharp fangs, and then my hot blood gushing into her mouth. I tried to scream but I couldn’t. I heard the music filling the hot impassioned air of the room as the life drained out of me and my vision faded:
It’s in the blood, it’s in the blood
I met my love before I was born
She wanted love, I taste of blood
She bit my lip and drank my warmth
From years before