Possessed

 

. The rain had stopped. The steaming streets were slowly forming a gray fog over the city. The moon appeared. Every so often, the monotonous silence was broken by the sounds of hurried footsteps, people rushing home.

Walking toward the bus stop, Ben felt a freshness in the air that always reminded him of an excess of iodine by the sea. He loved this freshness almost as much as his own independent life.

Leaving the dorm, he had no idea that within a few hours, something would rob him of more than just his memories...

Walking down a side street, Ben noticed a tall, slender woman leaning against a lamppost. Dressed in red latex that clung to her pale skin, the black-haired beauty turned her head toward the boy. Confident of her intentions, she glanced at Ben, then gracefully stepped away from the lamppost and floated toward him. The student felt awkward; he had never used this kind of service before. "Is this some kind of whore!?!" he thought. The woman was approaching. Ben noticed a pendant around her neck, something like a talisman, and white bows in her hair. "She's a whore!" he reminded himself. He was now face to face with the beast. "My name is Michelle." Ben's legs turned to cotton. Perhaps he misheard, but her whisper sounded like the sound of breaking glass. For a moment, Ben thought it was only a dream, but when Michelle wrapped her leg around his, he came to. The other half also became aroused. Ben noticed the woman, without any sign of pain, biting her lower lip. He saw long, yellow, sharp teeth. "It's been a long time since anyone has…"—she licked the black blood, interrupting her monologue. "…no one has possessed me like this." The boy stood like a statue—wet and pale. "This isn't an ordinary whore!" he wanted to scream. "This isn't a whore!" he let out only a short, indifferent moan. He wasn't afraid, he was terrified. Michelle wrapped her right arm around him, feeling the cold of her skin. She placed her left hand on his cheek. The student saw a long, sharp harpoon attached to Michelle's wrist. The hand slowly slid down. The woman's fingers gripped Ben's neck tightly, entwining it like small, agile vipers. She began to kiss him. She kissed him passionately. Starting from his forehead, tracing his eyebrows, caressing his ear. Suddenly, the boy caught an incredible stench, the sweet stench of rotting meat, carrion. He knew where the smell was coming from. Michelle's lips touched his necks. Her slight stubble didn't stop her from licking and kissing. Nor from drinking. With the first drop of blood, all emotions drained away. He felt fear drain from him. He saw only the pale face of the moon. After the third sip, anxiety returned and adrenaline surged. The boy jerked, tearing the skin of his neck. Unable to stand, he fell. He noticed black boots with high platforms. "They must be why Michelle is so tall," he thought trivially. Suddenly, the woman turned away from him and with a flick of her wrist, threw the harpoon attached to her left hand. Ben saw a figure in the distance, dressed in a long, masculine coat, pierced by a gleaming blade. Taking advantage of the moment of distraction, the boy began to crawl, leaving a bloody trail on the sidewalk. Michelle looked back and waved her right hand at him. "I've been better," she said, adjusting her breasts, then walked away toward the second victim. Both halves of Ben's body convulsed.

He could no longer see anything, not even the steaming streets that formed a gray fog over the city.