Night Blooms Scarlet

Erik hated the hunger. The boiling desire in his gut wanted to devour the warm lifeblood of any living being he came by. It was a feeling of drowning, of suffocating under the surface of his own skin. He could never break free, could never end it. It was eternal, just as he was.

Nails scraped his flesh as he tried to steady the ache, but it was all for nothing. A moment later, just out of the corner of his eyes, a figure caught his attention. A figure blending into the shadows, but catching the moonlight in a way that made his skin shine like fresh dew drops on top of rose petals in spring. It made the thirst swell within him and he moved without thinking. Erik’s claws reached out towards the shadows and clenched around the throat of the figure, tightening as they elongated into points. He could already smell the tantalizing coppery liquid and feel the warmth flowing over his fingers. He swallowed the moan when it threatened to escape him; the hunger bubbled up and made his vision blur. He couldn’t give in. He wouldn’t give the hunger the satisfaction and destroy the image of that pale moonlight blessed skin being soaked in scarlet.

“Scream for me…” Erik’s voice was silky smooth despite the hunger crawling up his throat. It was a game that made him play. Playing with his food had never been a thing he delighted in, but tonight he couldn’t stop himself. There was something about the petite figure held against his chest, which was keeping him simply infatuated. Normally, this was when the begging started. They would plead with him and beg him to let them go, but this one wasn’t doing it. There wasn’t a sound coming from him. Erik took his eyes off the strange way this stranger’s hair smelled (a mix of wild berry and grass clippings), and looked down to see his face.

A grin and emerald eyes full of mirth and delight stared up at him. The grin was the most sadistic thing Erik had ever seen, and for a moment, he thought about letting the prey go. What was wrong with him? Was he another night creature? No. If he had been, Erik would have smelt it on him. He wouldn’t have smelt live blood; he wouldn’t have been so drawn to him. So instead of releasing him, Erik’s claw tightened around the pale throat and he issued a low growl. A threat.

But the man in his grip didn’t waver. Instead, all this threatening pose did was make him choke out what sound he could, and to Erik’s trained and sensitive ears, he knew it could only have been a laugh. A laugh! This tiny, pale figure—who looked only like a kid lost on a full moon night—was laughing at a creature of the deep night! Was he insane?

Erik had met insane people before, but no one had ever laughed when he choked them before. None had ever dared to face his claws and smirk at him with such intense insanity floating in their eyes. Whoever this was, they were not normal. Erik drowned in the abyss of those pools as they stared up at him. A pale hand reached up to trail light fingers across his claws.

“I can’t feel it.” The voice was hoarse, but was as gleeful as his eyes were. “No pain.” Erik’s mind blanked as he pulled his hand back, finally breaking the trance he had been in. A snarl formed on his lips as he backed himself up towards the wall of an alley, staring at the man he had just released. No pain. He couldn’t feel pain. A more sober-minded night creature would have taken it as a good sign and had finished their meal with a smile. But Erik couldn’t. There was something else in those eyes. Something he couldn’t tear himself away from.

“You have no clue what I can do to you…” Erik choked out his threat this time, afraid. Why was he the one afraid? Erik shouldn’t be afraid. He was the monster, and the one who had the power. This kid had nothing but some moonlit skin, wild berry smelling hair, and eyes… eyes which had seen madness. He shivered as he watched his prey reach a hand up to coat his fingers in his own blood. It seemed to amuse him. To fascinate him. The blood looked like the brightest scarlet he had ever seen, and Erik’s stomach turned to knots as he watched, his mouth watering.

“No. You do not know what I could do to you.” There was another laugh, this one hollow. Erik’s whole body froze as those eyes turned to pin him to the wall. The threat from the smaller figure was so dark, he knew it was more than just a threat. Something about this prey differed from others.

A scarlet-colored warmth trailed from the tips of those pale fingers and pooled in the man’s palm. Erik found his eyes following the trail it made with a curious fascination. Has he ever seen something which glistened so beautifully? Erik wasn’t thirsty anymore. He wanted something far more. This person was the one he wanted. He wanted to know who he was. Erik wanted to know everything about him.

“Zephyr.” Erik’s head snapped back up to see the smirking face of the man he’d been admiring. “My name is Zephyr.” The voice was still hoarse from the tight claws Erik had wrapped around him, but he knew it would pass soon enough. Zephyr didn’t seem to mind it as he stepped closer to him. Looking up at Erik with those eyes, making Erik unable to look away from. Why couldn’t he look away? He froze as Zephyr stood there in front of him, and tilted his head to the side, exposing the part of his neck Erik had dug into. “What are you waiting for? Aren’t you thirsty?”

Erik didn’t wait for a second invitation. His thirst and desire for Zephyr had reached its peak, and he moved. Wrapping an arm around Zephyr’s waist and pulling him close, Zephyr giggled in delight before resting a hand on Erik’s shoulder, his head still tilted as Erik leaned his head down, fangs now exposed as he licked at the blood still continuing to flow.

Erik sunk his fangs in without hesitation, the thirst and hunger boiling too hot within him to stop or make him go slow. He needed to eat; he needed to feed. Zephyr made no sound, just moved his hands into Erik’s hair and held him as he drank his fill. Erik was sure by the time he finished, Zephyr would be dead, so he closed his eyes and sighed into the pale skin. Holding him back. If this was the only time he got with the one thing which had held a piece of his mind since his turning, he would treasure it.

When he pulled back, he wanted to sob as he felt the limp body in his arms. He closed his eyes as he pressed a kiss to the pale forehead of Zephyr. He would take him back with him, lay him to rest somewhere safe.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” The voice had Erik tightening his hold on Zephyr as eyes whirled back to him, stars now reflecting within those emerald pools. Erik did not know what was going on, but he was thankful he hadn’t killed the man. “Van Gogh was right…” Zephyr gave a laugh as he let his arms drop from Erik, seeming to know Erik would not let him go, and hung there so he could get a better view of the starry sky. “The night is more alive and colorful than the day!” There was another insane giggle from Zephyr, and this time Erik couldn’t help but join in. He did not know what had happened tonight, but he was glad about it.