Hello! Yes, this is a story! Well not a story, but a series. I wrote this some years ago. It is a series that would run for a week…or so. Good luck with making any sense out of this.

Tip: For easier reading, see every part as a story on it’s own, and not a chronological continuation 😀

Well, here it is!

FATAL ENCOUNTER (1)

You bumped into me as you were rushing to beat the crowd to the train headed towards Bank Station.
“So sorry!” you said turning back to see if I was offended. I was not. Not many people apologise after brushing roughly against others. It was rush hour; minds are fixed homeward; nobody really cares. But you cared enough to turn and apologise. I smiled at you, mouthing the words, “It’s Ok” and i noticed your eyes stared at me in what seemed to be wonder.

You are jolted to your senses by an irate worker who isn’t taking kindly to your stopping in front of moving crowd. I wave and pass you by and I feel your stare at my back. The train arrives and I jump, using my slender frame as an advantage to get on the rapidly filling coach. I step on shoes with my stiletto and I turn to apologise with a chagrined look. It’s you. “Guess its my turn to say sorry”. You smile at me.
“It’s no problem. Crazy day. Seems everyone left work the same time”.
I nod non-committal, and plug on my headphones, clicking on Disturbed’s latest album Asylum. You stare at me and I stare right back at you. You want to ask my name but you’re not sure how to start. I don’t make it any easier for you, even though a little smile’s tugging at the side of my mouth. Your lips move and I pause Draiman to listen.
“What?”
“I said, you’re smiling. What’s funny?”
I stay silent for a while, staring at you speculatively. Your pale cheeks turn slightly red, blushing at my intense scrutiny. Your grey eyes twinkle in mischief and you try to maintain a straight face, biting your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing..uncomfortably.
I like you; You’re a good-looking man.
“You’re funny”
Your eyebrows knit a little in confusion.
“I am? How?” I love your accent. South-east Midlands.
“You want to talk to me but have no idea how to start. I find that funny.” I smile widely revealing white teeth against my red-painted lips.
You run your hand through your mop of dark hair and smile guiltily.
“Right you are. So…Fancy a drink at the Pub or something? We can get to..umm..know each other…” you peter out, uncertain on how to continue.
I smile again and point at the display board on the coach.
“Next stop’s West Silvertown. My stop. A pub around the corner. Sure”. I watch your eye light up in surprise. You did not expect me to readily agree.
How cute.

We get off and i take you to my favorite pub. You hold the door for me as i come in. You even pull out a high-backed chair for me.
A gentleman to boot.
Two pints of Lager, and you’re freely talking about your job as a Consultant at a firm at Canary Wharf.
Your name is Albert Digby and you’re hot as hell. I nurse my pint of ale, watching your vivid facial expressions.
Fascinating man.
Time to make my move.
“Fancy some Moroccan coffee? Got them at home. Fresh brew.”
“Are you asking me to your home?”
You cute grin.
I nod smiling back and suddenly, i lean forward to peck you on the cheek.
“I like you” I whisper in my best husky voice and i feel your temperature rise. We quickly leave the pub and head to my house, a short walk.
“Come in.” Your eyes widen at the sight of my apartment.
“Wow! Nice place! Nice art! Your pay check must be fat!” You gush laughing.
Yes, it is.
Money tends to mount up when left long enough.
“You never mentioned where you work. Come to think of it, you havent really told me much about yourself except your name.”
I give you my rogue smile and usher you into the sitting room.
“We have all the night…don’t we?”
I watch you mentally cancel whatever plans you had before and relax
“Sure we do, Zanda”
I quickly make do my promise and minutes later, we are seating on my love seat, trying to keep a respectable distance.
I tell you little about myself, my work as a PR for a law firm. My recent trip to Nairobi. Soon, we fall under a spell. You drop your mug on the side table and draw closer, planting a kiss on my lips tentatively.
I do not draw away.
You take this as encouragement to continue and soon enough, expensive coffees forgotten, our lips are locked as our tongues play out a dance. I break the kiss and give you the ‘hold on’ sign as i rush upstairs.
I come down and I laugh in delight as your jaws drop. I’ve changed clothes and this time, I’m wearing a ‘barely there’ chemise. I know what you can see. That rouge smile again. I crook a finger at you and watch you get up, like a controlled robot.

“Come into my arms” i whisper as i slowly allow one strap of my shift to slip, revealing the contour of my left breast. You have this smile on you face that speaks fo itself: Bingo.
You meet me on the stairs and I lean in to kiss you.
Hungry.
I let my teeth graze you and you take my lips between your dentures, pulling softly. Your hands rove greedily, uncertain of what to do first: strip me or feel me.
Your body heat is so distracting; i can’t resist anymore.
I take my first bite off your cheek.
It takes a few seconds for my action to register somewhere in your brain.
You stop kissing me in shock.
You see the piece of flesh i have, dangling your eyes widen in terror.
Ah.
I lift you suddenly on my shoulder and make my way to the bedroom; Amazonian Queen and her Prize.
You squirm and scream, trying to get out of my unnaturally strong grasp.
You’re too weak; too human.
I dump you unceremoniously on the bed, cuffing your limbs. I smile at you and for the first time, you notice that the slightly crazy eyes i had aren’t looking so cute anymore. I take my long dark hair and weave it to a plait, getting it out of my way.
Your eyes watch my every movement, like a cornered rabbit; whimpering from pain and fear.
I lick my red lips slowly and watch you watch me.
“What are you?? Vampire?”
Your accent sounds even sexier when you’re afraid.
“Nah. I’m too cute.” i quip smiling. I see you don’t like my sense of humour. I can’t help the laughter bubbling through me and i let it out.
Sighing in relief, I strip you down to the last, complimenting you on your choice of underwear as an after thought.
Emporio Armani.
Looks better on you than it did on Beckham, i say.
Despite your fear, you do have an impressive erection.
Naughty little boy.
No distractions.
I kneel, keeping your torso between my legs, and close my eyes.
“Wh..what are y..you doing?”
“Saying my prayers” i reply, eyes still closed.
I open them and with relish i carve my first chunk of flesh.
“As the Japanese would say, Itadakimasu!”
You scream mindlessly in pain.
I can’t help but get terribly aroused.
Focus Zanda.
I make sure you watch me eat you alive…until you lose consciousness.
Evisceration…check.
Huge appetite.
I haven’t eaten in a while.
I stare unseeingly at my blood stained white sheet, picking strips of muscle off bones.
Is it too early to wonder when I’d be having my next meal?

———————————-

The second instalment would be coming out tomorrow. 🙂

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