You're struggling, trying to pull your arm out of my grasp, you finally look and see it's me, you start to relax. I push you against the wall hands pinned above your head, I kiss you hard, you gasp and I take that invitation to find your tongue with mine, you don't pull away just succumb to my onslaught. Our moans are mingling, teeth clashing, tongues dueling, I take one hand away from yours to run it through your hair and pull, making our lips rip apart. I bite my way to your neck, biting hard and sucking, marking you, wanting everyone to know you're mine, I kiss the mark after to soothe the pain. I move back and spin you round, front against the wall, your arse rubbing against my cunt. I reach around and grab your tits squeezing hard, I move to your nipples, pinching and pulling, your face pushed against the wall, you gasp arching into my hands, you arse moving against my cunt making me moan. I push my cunt into your arse, wanting friction of my own, I slide my hands to the waste. “I’ll be back in the morning,” I tell her and slip on the dark robes. It’s only two miles to the clinic, two miles through a nighttime forest devoid of humans and temptation. The shrubbery flies by, as clear to my eyes as if it was bright daylight. The hunger does that to me, heightens my senses - but not for long before it becomes overwhelming. I have to hurry. I jump onto the stone wall and crouch down. There are no guards, but you never know when a patient feels like walking outside in the middle of the night. It’s quiet. The crickets have burrowed deep into the earth again, hiding from the chilly fogs of late autumn, and the few lights behind the windows are dimmed. My heart begins to beat faster and I slide down onto the grass to make my way towards my meal. The old oaken door with its interwoven ornaments swings back easily, to easily for a human hand. I’m not human, not completely. Not anymore. Not for centuries. Through these centuries, I have learned to move without sound,.
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