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Your hair blows in the harsh winds as your footsteps quicken, eager to reach the cellar doors of your interest. Just a few feet away..
Jane had invited you over to her basement a few days ago, asking you to help her organize her documents, of course you accepted! Fortunately the date she gave you has finally arrived.
You weren’t actually too interested in spending a few hours just moving around dusty folders, you were more so intrigued by the woman behind it all.
Jane has always been terribly mysterious and closed off ever since you’ve met her in this forsakened realm, and you're so very desperate to know what’s under her mask of nonchalance. You hope she’ll grant you praise of some kind for assisting her with this..
Your feet track through the trail of overgrown weeds and grass, closer towards the door. You bend down before your fingers shakily wrap around the metal handle. It’s cold and rough against your already frigid fingers.
Wait. Right, manners.. You unravel your hand from it and knock your fist against it.
… No response. Just the sound branches shaking from the sheer force of wind.
You knock again, this time a little more impatient. The motion makes your knuckles ache a bit, your knuckles are still bruised from falling over during the last round. No answer.
You're beginning to worry a bit. Who wouldn’t though? You, and every other person here knows how much the Spectre loves torturing its victims. What if it’s hurting her?
You panic and swiftly tug the door open. The warm air from her room brushes against your face faintly, you would have basked in it if you weren’t so worrisome at the moment.
A stray piece of paper almost makes you slip down onto the floor as you jump down from the latter. Fortunately your able to collect yourself quickly, dusting yourself off a tad bit.
You turn around. All the air is knocked out of your chest when your eyes land on Jane.
She’s sitting up on her couch, head turned to look at you. Her hair is thrown over her shoulder, the magenta strands falling over her back and shoulders in mesmerizing waves. You swear to Telamon she looks like something out of a Renaissance painting..
Her painted lips are pouting, you barely notice the thin fangs pointing into the plump flesh. A thin sheen of sweat is visible on her pale face, she seems almost restless. Your eyes wander down to where she’s lacking of her usual trench coat, leaving her in her beige sweater and dark slacks.
You quickly snap out of your trance before your thoughts can wander into sin. Your hand reaches out for the ladder as you apologize profusely, promising to knock the next time she invites you over. If she ever does..
Just before you can hoist yourself up onto the worn-out wooden ladder, you feel long fingers lurch out and grab you, keeping you from climbing back up.
You shriek as your fingers find their place, gripping onto the coarse fabric of Jane’s sweater. The world stops spinning and you look at her. You can see the desperate hunger in her expression, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip caught in her teeth. Your eyes widen as you notice the fangs.
“No! no, wait..” She stares into you, digging her nails into you to keep you still. The idea of her wanting you close to her this intensely makes your heart race. You notice how good she smells, floral perfume and the subtle note of cigarette ash,
Your chests, now pressed tightly together, heave in union. The room feels hot, burning with tension, a harsh contrast to the biting cold of winter, just outside her cellar door.
One of her hands release from your shoulder, sliding up to cup the side of your throat to wrap her fingers around it delicately. You fight the urges to needily press yourself into her hold, to thrive in her touch. She seems almost lost in her own urges as she stares at your bare throat.
Eventually the fog in your mind clears enough to realize why she’s acting this way. She’s hungry, she’s probably fighting the urge to drink off you right this moment.
The vivid image of Jane sinking her teeth into you supplants that previous fog oh-so-quickly, infecting your thoughts like the plague.
Her lips part, a gasp claws through her throat, pleading the air for a breath, before she’s swallowing down her saliva before it can spill out of her mouth.
You should be scared, anyone would be. But you can’t shake off the odd sense of excitement. Maybe you read too many vampire romance in your teens or something of the sort but..
Telamon, your face shouldn’t be heating up like this. Most people would have the opposite reactions. You can already imagine the mental image of maybe another survivers reaction, their face draining of all color, panic shooting through them as they struggle.
But how could you be terrified when her fingers are holding you like your something important, like she needs you to survive? Well you guess she does, huh?
I mean, your teammates, right? You, and everyone else here, have been sent here into an unescapable purgatory, it’s normal to want to help others in a situation like this.
It blurts out, your brain blanks for a second and suddenly the words are spilling out. But you can’t find yourself wanting them to stop. You ask her to bite you.
Jane goes frigid against you, seemingly shocked by how reacted. She didn’t expect you to allow her to, let alone sound enthusiastic about it. You feel her heartbeat quicken against you, your bodies are so close together you can feel the faint thumping.
She presses her face against your neck, burying her nose under your jaws. Your mouth gapes open as she presses her fangs against your neck.
“Thank you, thank you so much..” Her breath is hot against you, a drast comparison to her body heat, she feels a bit colder then normal, it makes you shiver.
Her teeth finally sink in, sliding into your neck like needles. Your skin gives no resistance. Her hold on you tightens, nails poking through the fabric to your clothing.
You bare your neck, pushing against the wall she’s pinned you against to give her better access. The firmness of wall behind you is almost grounding.
You can feel her sucking the blood out, the crimson fluid leaving your body. Some drips down your collarbone and stains your shirt. You look at it from the corner of your eyes, watching.
The slurping noise from her feeding spreads heat through your whole body, overwhelming you with want.
Her hands soften around you, the desperate grasp turning into more of a earnest embrace. This has been your biggest dream honestly, to have her this close, to be this useful to her.
Your vision blurs a bit, not to mention the fog that makes your thoughts harder to form. It feels oddly nice, a rare moment where your not thinking about the next ‘round’ of the Spectre’s sick game or when the bloodthirsty killer may spot you. The latter seems a bit ironic, especially now. You giggle breathily.
Jane seems to come back to herself, quickly pulling her fangs out of your flesh. She pulls her face out of your neck, and the view you get of her is so beautiful. She’s gorgeous up close.
“I’m sorry. I apologize, I think I may have taken too much.” She rasps, her voice laces with worry, eyes softening. You hold back a whimper as she licks your throat clean, the wet appendage laving over the small wound.
She steps back a bit, stil holding you to the wall but this time she seems to be supporting your wary body instead of pinning you back like prey.
Your hazy eyes fall down to her lips, plump and painted a dark red, the color almost matches the crimson that had been leaking from you just a moment ago.
She seems to notice, “Is there anything you would like?” Jane questions you, gently caressing your arm, soothing the area where she had just been grasping. Her tongue darts out to lick the small bit of blood that’s dripping from her mouth.
You squeak, face flushing. But then again, she’s already lapped up blood off your neck so maybe it’s not so crazy of a request?
You take the plunge, asking her to kiss you. It comes out a bit more pathetic than you would have liked but it gets the point across, you suppose.
Jane’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, “Are you sure? I’ve already taken plenty of your time with.. this.” She looks down at the puncture mark on the side of your neck.
You nod frantically, smiling sheepishly. Your so desperate for this it’s kinda embarrassing. But who can blame you? She’s so beautiful it’s worth it.
She wraps her arms around your waist delicately, lips parting as she leans into you.
Her lips meet yours, gentle and careful. She holds you as if you were made out of glass.
Jane’s hands slide up to tangle in your hair as she kisses you. You can faintly taste cigarette ash in her mouth, it’s bitter compared to the way she holds you.
The kiss doesn’t last long, she pulls away shortly after. The two of you take a moment to appreciate the moments, breathing in unison. You can feel your heart pounding like it wants to break out of your ribs.
Her expression is unreadable, as she usually is. She hums, sounding pleased. You wouldn’t have heard the noise if you didn’t hold your breath to listen. But, it’s close enough to praise so your happy. You don’t expect much from someone as closed off as she is, and that’s okay.
You can feel where her lipstick rubbed off on your lip and you have to hold back an excited giggle.
Your pulled out of your thoughts as she starts guiding you to her sofa. She uses her arms to support you as your laid across it. You notice she’s actually pretty strong, even if she doesn’t look if. Maybe it’s from constantly swinging that axe of hers.
The cushions are surprisingly soft, your body sinks into it pleasantly. There’s still a faint sting from where her pointy teeth just where, nothing unbearable, but instead a delicate ache, reminding you of where she just had been.
“Shh.. lay your head.” She hushes you quietly, smoothing her hand over your head.
The last thing you feel before falling unconscious is Jane’s thin, calloused fingers carding through your hair. Her touch is gentle, soothing as your lulled into slumber.