Two Black Cats, a Man and a Crow.

There is a full moon out tonight, the streets are luminescent, newly washed by the cleansing rain. Tall stately lamp posts cast their barely perceptible shadows upon the night.

But...strange and eerily out of place between this penumbra of shapes, are Two ominous Black cats staring unblinking from the middle of the road...their dichromatic odd-colored eyes of amber-yellow stare ominously as if through your soul.

The wind is moaning a lullaby, rousing and whipping the leafless trees into a frenzy.

Dark and ominous skies observe from above, unusual for a night which had promised a glorious moon. The neatly landscaped pathways sit starkly and preternaturally deserted...There is no sign of life anywhere, but for the peculiar cats and a lone raven, perched high atop a solitary limb. A 'night owl', like you, delighting in the night's dark splendor.

"Caw, caw, caw". Three times...is there a message in there somewhere, you laugh...though filled with a kind of dread.

Early Spring flowers are peeking their innocent bulbs for all to see. It is a darkly wondrous night...Except for the unauthorized insistence of the black cats on keeping you company.

As you amble along the tree lined pathway, with it's florescent avenue of dimmed lights...the wretched cats silently follow...

Then suddenly, they both let out a loud and hellish screech, disappearing into the unseen and unknown folds of the night.

It is then that a figure emerges from the shadows... clothed in darkness. He is like a wisp of black cloud beneath one ill-lit and naked lamp, it's glow so dim the form is barely perceptible.

Up above, as if on cue...the full moon peeks shyly from behind the clouds, as if waiting to slowly illuminate a secret.

"Do not be alarmed, I mean you no harm. But you were not meant to be here this night". He declared quite soberly, for plainly this was a visitor of the male persuasion.

You can barely make out a hint of an impish smile on the mysterious shadowed and veiled newcomer's contoured silhouette.

You utter not a sound, for you are much too alarmed and afraid, thinking that the devilish black cats had lured you to your demise.

You pause, slightly nonplussed and a little perplexed. He stands, bold - a tad bit too self-assured, which you find a little egotistical and annoying. You both stare into each others eyes like long known friends or foes ... or perhaps lovers, who somehow know of each other's deadly secrets unfolding.

On closer scrutiny, you realize that he was handsomely rugged. Dark eyes speckled with unchecked, playful, and barely perceptible laughter. Medium built and smartly, if strangely dressed for the weather. He was indeed a delicious sight for lonely eyes.

Yet every danger sign in your well tuned intuition screamed like frenzied banshees in the throes of madness.

The cats appeared again...they too were screeching awfully.

"Begone omen bound balls of fluff". He shrieked...the cats snarled as they slowly backed away.

You, who had walked out this night with not a thought of death...or maybe a miracle emerging from this darkly shrouded magical night, was horrified...and - maybe a wee bit thrilled and secretly hopeful, not knowing which emotion to rely on. Still, maybe it was all for nought...for danger had painted itself solidly upon your imagination.

How to escape? For the cats have returned, they stand afar off---watching silently. Be they friend or foe?

After what seemed like a mesmerizing forever of inhaling his mysterious essence. You close your eyes, releasing your gaze from the unreadable depth of in his dark stoicism.

He reaches out to gently touch your shoulder. You step back fearfully... this gesture was just a bit too familiar...it felt wrong.

"I have observed you from afar, our chance to finally meet and engage is a portent ordained". He says softly, sounding positively medieval of speech.

This is too Weird, you think - awaking as if from a dream, you smile at his folly.

"Who are you"? You ask, not too calmly, your voice shaking.

"I am called by many names...but you may call me Drake. How do you do". He answers, bowing slightly, smiling knowingly. How does he know your name.

Why does he seem so familiar to you, have you met him somewhere before...In another lifetime maybe.

Involuntarily, you reach for his hand. Are you crazy? This stranger feels like home and danger all mixed into one great conundrum of uncertainty. He takes your proffered slightly trembling hand in his - And with a gesture of his other hand towards the path...You walk in silence by his side.

You find benches in the nearby park, you both sit...and fervently talked for hours, exploring each other's inner secrets and life dreams, huddled on that bench, oblivious...Until a cold finally descend...reminding you to seek warmth, or catch your death of cold. He offers his black, elegant and ancient looking jacket..

You both stood, reluctantly, and retraced your steps. He walked you home...your instincts have not failed you before. But you refused to listen. You trusted they would be true to you...despite their screams. You open the door...

And you turn, tenderly reaching up a hand to touch his cheek.

He grabbed your arm and crushed your body to his chest. You held him tight. This was heaven, and you wanted to live there. When you finally pulled apart, he cupped your face in his hands, turned your head slightly...

AND SANK HIS TOOTHED FANGS INTO THE SOFTNESS OF YOUR NECK.

In shock...Your body twitches involuntarily.

The sensation is intimate, invasive, and strangely layered—not just pain, not just fear.

It begins with pressure, the cool weight of a face too close, breath grazing the skin. Then the teeth find their place—a deliberate pause, as if the vampire is listening to the pulse beneath the surface.

The first puncture is a sharp bloom, a bright, needling sting that flashes through the nerves. But it doesn’t stay sharp. It spreads—heat unfurling from the wound, a slow ache that feels almost like being drawn into sleep. Your heartbeat stumbles, then steadies, then seems to echo inside the vampire’s mouth.

There’s a pull—not just blood, but sensation itself being siphoned. A draining, a soft unraveling. The world narrows to the rhythm of the vampire drinking, the warmth leaving the body in waves. Pain blurs into a heavy, floating numbness, a strange surrender that feels both terrifying and seductively peaceful.

It is the feeling of being claimed, of life slipping toward someone else’s hunger, of the neck becoming a doorway through which the self quietly pours.

Then he gently kissed you lips, as his blood soaked fangs retracted and he smiled a satisfied smug smile.

The cats...you should have listened to the cats.

Taking a deep satisfied breath, he picks you up and you feel yourself float into the room...he lays you down upon the bed, pulls the covers over your form...you then become lost into nothingness.

Sleep inhales you into its drunken delights of quietude. Goodnight! Adieu, you poor thing.

His sojourn was not far. You find the light of day something to be avoided.

Late into the evening, your doorstep was adorned with a lovely bouquet, and an elegantly wrapped box with a note. Inside is a darkly beautiful, laced black gown complete with accessories.

"Your chariot will be here at 12am midnight sharp. Do not be late"!

You peer into the mirror...a much younger and vivacious you stare back with a smug confidence you have never known or felt. But...your reflection is slowly fading, as if the mirror were no longer reflecting your soul, and your former self was being slowly lost...the mirror no longer able to capture your essence.

You have become the new bride of a vampire's seduction.

Forever awaits, the night gods have ordained. The full moon stares down as if in cahoots with the the audacious man-thing.

Below your window, the cats wail their dual dissatisfaction.

But, they cannot help anymore. You are already...here!!!!