Lucky Thirteen!Mama needs a new pair of tomb boots

[Tricia]

Okay,
we are moving into round Lucky Thirteen.
I am posting live from the Vegas Strip, so send some luck my way.
These one-armed bandits are taking their toll on the wallet and mama needs a new pair of tomb boots!

Okay here are Collin's words...

befriend
behind
crush
knife
music
sweat
together
yellow

If you don't like them... you know who to yell at... Derek K.
He should have hit Collin with bigger rubber bands!


Now Derek S. I know you can use these words... don't be a wimp!


So everybody get writing I will be checking in Friday. The plan is to close the forum for voting on Saturday, but we may have to extend for the working class warriors... and drunk vacationers. heheh

We won't be doing a theme or setting, just too much for my frazzled mind to focus on.

Must go... the chink of coins is calling me.....

[sidra]

knife? crush? oh, man, this is gonna be soooooo easy! i use those words every day!

[Tricia]

I need an extension.... hair that is.... and a boobie lift.... okay. I am back from Vegas!

Where are all the stories?
*peeks under Chaos's skirt*
Nope, not there.
Hmmmmm, looks like everybody needs an extension.

Welcome newbies... ;D

Okay, say tuesday night? Good.... see you then!

[Chaos]

Hey! I don't know what kind of crazy crap goes on out in Vegas, but from what I hear, you're supposed to *leave it in Vegas*!! Stay outta my skirt, there, Miss Tricia...

OK, OK...I'll post first...then ya'll can all show me up by posting wonderful & fabulous stories that beat mine all to hell and back.

AD1

Plan “B”

I’ve always been a fan of the underdog. You know, BEFRIEND the outcast, champion the lonely…that sort of thing. It’s not a matter of being noble or self-sacrificing, God knows, that’s not me! No, it’s more akin to how you feel when you see a really large dog, penned BEHIND a very small fence. He looks at you with those big brown puppy-dog eyes and you just can’t help but feel sorry for him. Never mind the fact that the reality of the situation is that the dog is mourning his inability to jump the fence and tear your throat out with his teeth.

Anyway, my love for the underdog is what led to my friendship with Joe.

Joe joined our group at Zybin, Inc. about four months ago. Due to budget cuts throughout the company, he made a linear move from the Sales Department to the group I’m in, Account Management. He was not particularly thrilled with the move; a fact which he made crystal-clear from his first hour in the office.

We were having our monthly staff meeting when our manager, Kyle, introduced Joe to the team. Joe did not make an overwhelmingly positive first impression on any of us with his shaggy black hair, over-sized, bottle-thick eyeglasses that gave his muddy brown eyes a decidedly owlish appearance, and his non-existent fashion sense. Really, his cheap blue suit, baggy blue button-down shirt, canary-yellow tie, and scuffed brown loafers reminded me of that old British series, “Mr. Kerfuffle” ~~ you know, the one with the mild mannered and clumsy loser-by-day who was transformed into a vengeance-driven, murderous clown-by-night…<br>
For the first two weeks that Joe worked with us, I honestly don’t recall him saying anything to anyone in the office, outside of required communication regarding our accounts, and even that he accomplished mostly via email.

Then, one day, I kind of cornered him in the break room where he was eating his usual lunch of ham and cheese on wheat, a few plain potato chips, and a diet soda. I sat down at his table and proceeded to talk his head off until I finally hit on something he and I had in common, which turned out to be our respective collections of electric trains. Since then we’ve been nearly inseparable.

Which brings us to the problem.

Over the last two weeks, Joe has undergone a major transformation. It started after a conversation we had about what our “ideal mate” would look like, which ended with Joe’s sad observation that he would “never be noticed by the woman of his dreams.”<br>
“Aw, Joe,” I replied, “that’s not true at all. You’re a great guy, man; don’t SWEAT it! She’ll come along for you, one day, and your life will never be the same again.”<br>
Joe’s appreciation of the friendly remark shone in his eyes, and I never even heard his quiet comment as I walked away, “I think she’s already here.”<br>
Since then, Joe has had his hair cut in the Caesar-style that I find so attractive on men with black hair, revamped his wardrobe; he was fitted for blue-tinted contact lenses, and yesterday he had his YELLOWing teeth cleaned and whitened at the dentist’s office. Our co-workers were impressed by the “new and improved” Joe, and questioned him incessantly about his motivation for his fabulous appearance. Joe, however, would answer no questions on the subject at all. Even when I asked, all he would say was, “You’ll see, soon enough.”<br>
Last night, as we walked to our cars in the parking garage, Joe looked at me seriously and said, “Julie, do you have any plans tomorrow night?” When I shook my head in the negative, he continued, “Would you mind coming by my apartment around 7:00 tomorrow evening, then? I need your advice on something.”<br>
“OK, Joe, I can do that. Do I at least get a hint about what’s up with you?” I answered easily.

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “Just come on by around 7:00, OK?” And with that, he got into his car and took off.

At this point, I really thought I’d figured out what the mystery was about. “Joe’s got his eye on somebody,” I though happily, “and he’s wanting my advice on how to proceed.” Excited for my friend, I went home and didn’t give it another thought.

Imagine my surprise, then, when Joe let me into his apartment earlier this evening and I found a romantic table set for two, candles lit and flickering prettily all around the room, and soft MUSIC playing on the stereo.

“Joe,” I exclaimed, “what is all of this?”<br>
“This is for you, Julie,” Joe replied, his bright blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “I have something to tell you, and I wanted to make it a special night for both of us.” He led me to the table and held my chair for me as I sat.

My stomach was churning because I finally understood all of it, and I knew that I was going to have to hurt my friend’s feelings. Hating to have to say it, I spoke gently, “Joe, sweetie…I’m speechless. I had no idea you felt this way about me. I’m so flattered, Joe, really, but I don’t think that what you feel for me is anything more than a CRUSH; you aren’t in love with me, and I’m sorry, Joe…but I am not in love with you, either.”<br>
Confused, Joe looked at me and, as his hands nervously rearranged his steak KNIFE and the fork, he said, “Julie, don’t say that! This is NOT a crush; I am completely and utterly in love with you! I know that you love me, too…you just wanted me to look like someone who would be worthy of being with someone like you. Why do you think I did all of this, anyway?” He spoke quickly, desperately, even, as he stared intensely across the table at me. I couldn’t even meet his gaze under the guilt I felt as he proclaimed, “Julie, think about it, baby. We were made for each other! We belong TOGETHER!”<br>
I shook my head sadly and tried to explain to him that while I do care very much about him, and I am very glad that he decided to take the steps he did to make himself more physically attractive, I just can’t love him…not like that. “Please understand, Joe,” I thought, aching for him.

Joe sighed, resigned, before going to the antique hope chest behind the sofa in his living room and removing from within it a length of heavy rope, a pair of handcuffs, and a black silk gag. He looked at me with regret in his eyes and said, “Well…there’s always Plan B…”

[ThatWickedWench]

[glow=red,2,300]Wench1[/glow]

For Love and Money

She pulled the yellow sweater over her head of vibrant red hair and down over her large, bare breasts. Hopping up from the bed, she squealed as Graylon goosed her. Raechyl was much more than a little stoned at this point and every movement made her giddy. Stumbling over the mess they’d made of bottles and clothes in the floor, she somehow managed to find her blue jeans, pull them on and button them to the top. He rolled over in the king size bed, and his low sexy groan was one of satisfied bliss.

The cabin, was in a secluded spot high in the mountains and hours away from her husband’s prying eyes. There was not a day that went by that she did not regret her decision to marry for money and not love. Sure, it was nice to have the means to live outrageously, but there was a cavernous hole in her heart that her cold, stockbroker husband would never be able to fill. She had never warmed up to him in the 4 years they had been married.

Despite her mother’s insistence that ‘love will grow between you’, it never did, and Raechyl did not intend to force the issue. She knew that the ‘love’ her husband claimed he had for her was nothing more than a love of possessions. He was obsessed with her beauty, nothing more. Tired of being one of his many trophies, she had found love elsewhere, and was happy to have her cake and eat it too.

Raechyl had been having an affair with her personal trainer, Graylon, for about 5 months now and she had to admit that it was more than sexual energy that pulsed between them. She knew she was in love... and he had professed the very same to her. He was so good to her, never insisting that she leave her husband, although they both knew that one day they would have to face the facts. He simply took what time they had together for what it was, special and fleeting, letting Raechyl set the rules and schedule.

Getting away this weekend had been simple. Almost too simple, in Graylon’s eyes. Raechyl had informed Randy, her husband, that she needed some fresh air and a trip to the spa. Her best friend, Tanya, always covered for her, so she told him that she and Tanya would be in Falcon Cove for a relaxing weekend away. He didn’t hesitate to send her on her way; Likely he had his mistresses to attend to as well. Randy stuffed a roll of cash in her purse and bid her farewell. Tanya arrived at their posh Atlanta high-rise apartment Friday afternoon to help her pack, and then they were off in Raechyl’s little red BMW in no time, music blaring. Gone in a glow of taillights.

“So we’re staying at the cabin,” Raechyl had informed Tanya of her plans for the weekend. “You know the number and address, in case anything goes wrong.” They always had a backup plan for emergencies, though they’d never needed it.

“Yea, yea” Tanya laughed...she loved these ‘weekends away with Raechyl’. While Rae was up in the mountains banging her gorgeous man-whore, Tanya would take the wad of cash (compliments of Randy) and stay in only the best hotels just over the Tennessee border. There she would play, gambling the days away and spending hot, sweaty nights befriending the high-rollers in the Penthouse.

It all seemed so easy. Raechyl had dropped Tanya off at the Winchester-Montgomery Royal Suites with a hug and a “See ya Sunday night!” and continued north for a weekend of hot, unbridled lust in the hills of Cougar Bluff.

She always tingled with excitement to see his dust covered Jeep in the driveway and could hardly wait to get inside to get her hands and mouth on him. Graylon would be waiting there at the cabin for her as usual... sometimes in front of the television, sometimes in the bed and sometimes in the large hot tub on the open deck, but always stripped naked and ready to fuck.

So, awaking now, Saturday afternoon after a dizzying night of getting high and getting off, Raechyl felt in need of some fresh mountain air. She leaned over Graylon’s lithe body, her nipples stiffening again merely by the touch of his skin through her sweater. “Hey baby... I’m headed down the hill to the store. Want anything?”<br>
“Mmmmm.. You give me anything more like you did last night, sexy, and I’ll have a fucking heart attack before I’m 40!” he playfully pinched a hardened nipple through the cashmere. “Hurry back, love, I’m almost rested..” he winked.

Raechyl just giggled and was sure to shake her ass for him one good time as she grabbed the keys to his Jeep and jogged out the door. It was late afternoon, and the sun shone through the trees casting leopard spots on the gravel road as she left the cabin behind to drive down the mountain. It would be dark when she got back... the thought of making love on the plush grass, behind the cabin under the stars played in Rae’s mind. Oh yea, now she had an agenda. She sped up, kicking a flurry of dust and gravel behind her in the road.

She picked up a six-pack, some cigarettes and a few candles to set the mood for later. Night spread across the mountain like a large comforter tucking the sleepy landscape in, as Raechyl maneuvered the vehicle up the rocky trail. She imagined the feel of Graylon’s hands on her body and her panties became slick with wetness as she anticipated him on her, inside of her.

Moonlight lit up the porch, and Raechyl fumbled with the paper sack and the door handle as she let herself into the cabin. She bumped the door shut with her ass, oblivious to the death-like quality of silence that filled the house. Dumping the sack on the counter in the kitchen, Rae stripped down to bare silken tanned skin and walked naked through the dining area out onto the deck. Graylon sat deep in the hot tub, his back to her, steaming water swirled to his neck. She trembled with ecstacy and, ready to play, sneaked up on him. She slid her arms down his chest from behind and leaned in to nibble his ear...it was then that she saw the blood.

That’s also when Graylon’s head rolled off his shoulders, with a sickening SPLUNK! sound into the bubbling, red water. Her last memory was of his gorgeous green eyes, filled with blood and terror staring up at her as his head spun lifelessly in the churning water.

Her jaws twisted open in a silent scream, Raechyl backed away from the scene, gagging. She puked over the deck rail and then her screams became real, shredding the night with agony. Hugging the rail, she pulled herself up and turned her head in time to see the dark figure step out of the shadows near the door. He came toward her swiftly, enveloping her in his arms from behind. He crushed her breasts with his hands in a desperately loving yet savage manner. He clenched her chin in one gloved hand and turned her face to meet his gaze. Raechyl’s eyes glistened with fear as he thrust his tongue into her mouth for one last kiss, while simultaneously thrusting the jagged edged knife into her heart.

An hour later, the mess was cleaned up. Evidence gathered. Gasoline spread and match lit. Randy drove away from the cabin, feeling somehow younger and enlightened.. Maybe now was time to rethink his career.

The brunette in the passenger seat reached over and unzipped his pants, sliding an experienced hand inside to massage an ever-growing erection. She noticed him glancing at the fiery glow in the rearview mirror. She was eager to take his mind off the dirty-work he had just done and get him ready for the dirty workout she was about to give him back at the hotel.

He gave her a sidelong glance... oh yea, Tanya would definitely love him one day. She’d love him and noone else. He’d make damn sure of it.

[Chaos]

Hey! You story-writing people! You guys DO realize that tomorrow is our deadline, right?

Is it going to come down to the WENCH against the BITCH?

Talk about your Head-to-Head Story-Writing Death Matches!!!!

[ThatWickedWench]

For real, girl.. I mean at least we'd know who you and I were voting for, right? LMAO

[Collin]

CB1:

October 3rd.

I've heard stories about this guy that lives in the basement of our apartment building behind the stairs. Nobody knows his name and some of the other tenants say he's not real.

But I'm sure he's real.

Our building's super, Joey, called the police to come and haul him away when he found out about him.

The next day the guy was back and Joey was gone. There was a scrawled note stuck to his door saying that he had to leave town to visit his sick mom. That was two weeks ago.

I'm pretty sure Joey was an orphan, but nobody else wants to talk about it. They say I'm just being silly. I think they're scared.

Joey spelled "sick" wrong.

And "Joey".

---
October 16th.

I saw the guy as I was carrying in my groceries this morning. He was standing at the bottom of the basement steps, just staring up at me. Totally motionless. Not making a sound.

I wouldn't have noticed him at all if an apple hadn't fallen out of one of my bags and rolled to the edge of the stairs. When I turned my head to track its progress my eyes met his.

His seemed to be tinted yellow and his grimy face held no expression at all. He was dressed in grubby jeans, a stained lumberjack shirt and biker boots that had seen better days. He was quite thin with long, stringy black hair. His hands were out a bit from his sides and partially curled, like the claws of some beast.

I was rooted to the spot. Trapped by his stare. I felt ice along my spine and every hair on my body rose up like it wanted to flee the scene.

Then he started to sing in a low gravely voice. His eyes never left mine. It was a nonsensical song and I could only make out a few of the words. "Pain", "taunt", "witch" and "death". The tune was haunting and instantly burrowed itself into my brain.

Then he started to move up the stairs and the spell was broken. I turned and ran as fast as I could to my apartment. I could hear the song getting louder by the time I reached my door.

I fumbled through my purse trying to find my keys when I lost my grip on the grocery bags. They fell from my shaking arms and spilled all across the floor. I didn't care. I just wanted to get that door between me and him.

When I found my keys my hand was shaking so hard I couldn't get the key into the lock and the song was even louder in my ears.

I could feel him behind me as I steadied the key in both hands and forced it into the lock. I knew that if I paused to look over my shoulder he would be there, about to dig those claw like hands into my flesh.

I threw the door open and rushed into the room, heedless of my fallen groceries. I slammed the door behind me, slammed shut the bolt lock and pressed my eye against the peephole.

As soon as I did the singing stopped. There was nobody in the hallway.

I was drenched in a cold sweat.

I don't know how long I stood there with my eye pressed to the door and my ears straining for any hint that the guy was out there. I was sure he was waiting for me.

I finally took the chance that he was gone and opened the door and quickly gathered my groceries before sealing myself off again.

I had never been so scared in my life. I had hoped that writing about it would help, but it doesn't.

My eggs were crushed too.

---
Oct. 26th.

It's been ten days since I saw the guy from the basement and I still can't get the tune that he was singing out of my head.

No matter what music I listen to, the tune is always waiting when it's done. It's worse than the theme to 'Gilligan's Island'.

I found myself humming it in the bathtub this morning. That totally freaked me out.

I also haven't set foot out of my apartment since that morning, and I'm running low on food.

I thought about calling the police, but Joey called the police. Look how much good it did him.

Then I thought of calling for Chinese take-out, but I just know that the basement guy will be waiting right behind whoever delivers the food. Then he'll get me. I can't take that chance.

If only I didn't move into a ground floor apartment I could try jumping out the window. But there are security bars that keep me in. Isn't that nice and ironic?

God I'm hungry.

---
Oct. 30th.

That's it.

No more food.

I just ate the last of the ketchup together with a tin of sardines I found in the back of the cupboard.

If I don't gather the courage to go out and get some food I'm going to die here for sure. But he's waiting. I know he is. So which is worse. Having him get me, or starving to death?

It's kinda funny. I didn't even know what hungry was the last time I wrote in this journal. I wish I was only that hungry.

---
Oct. 31st.

I decided that I don't want to starve to death. It hurts too much.

I'm going to head out as soon as I'm done writing here.

He's probably gone by now anyhow.

I'm taking a kitchen knife with me though, just in case.

Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding and he just wanted to befriend me.

Wouldn't that be funny?

[jenn]

JS1

Part one

There was only a slight chill in the October air, unseasonably warm really for this time of year. The kids all decided to have a sleep over in the tree house. I knew what they were up to, hell ever parent that had been raised in our little town knew what the kids were planning tonight. We all did the same thing ourselves at that age. Sweet memories of youth could turn so sour though, and I wished I could retell our story to those kids in my tree house. I wished I could implement the terror of that night to these children, but they wouldn’t have to live the same horror we had, and I couldn’t tell anyone about our night. That is how we referred to it “our night”. Halloween was only 3 days away, and it was a tradition of sorts, started even before my time, the kids would all camp out the weekend before Halloween, and when they thought the parents were sleeping soundly they would sneak off to the old house up on the hill; the house was supposedly haunted, and they would tell the story of the old woman who had died there and how her ghost still roamed about.

There was no evidence of any woman really dieing in the house, and I have come to understand that ghosts are not real, at least the kind in scary stories. Oh I believe in ghosts, they haunt you for life, but I don’t believe they are the kinds that float around inhabiting houses they died in. No ghosts tend to live in your memories and your thoughts that is where they are real, and I fear my demons will follow me to my grave. I could hear the kids up in the tree house and I smiled at their innocents, and hoped they would keep theirs much longer than we had ours. The phone rang interrupting my thoughts.

“Hello” I answered.

“Maryanne, it is Jean. How are you?” she sounded calm, but I knew she was feeling the night close in on her just as much as I was.

“Jean, I am good. How are you?” I tried not to let on that I had been thinking about “our night”, but she knew just like I knew she had been scrutinizing over it as well. We had been there TOGETHER, along with George, Stan, and Marty. The five of us had always been a tight group.

“I am fine. How are the kids doing?” She was making small talk, but neither of us wanted to bring up what was always somewhere in the back of our minds.

“The kids are having a great time, you want to come over?” I asked.

“Yes.” Was all she said.

“OK see you in a few minutes.” I hung up the phone, as Marty came through the back door. I had been expecting him, and soon Stan would show up as well. George use to come too, but this year it would only be the four of us. George had let the ghosts of the past get to him, and had taken his own life after last years get together. I always think there was more we could have done to save him, but people deal with their problems in different ways. I guess that was the only way George knew how to make the ghosts stop haunting him.

“Hey, sis.” He said as he leaned close and kissed my cheek. Marty was my brother, my twin brother.

“Hi sweetie. Jean is on her way. Where is Stan?”<br>
“He said he would be here in a few, don’t know what is holding him up.” Marty and Stan were best friends then, and had always reminded that way.

We sat down at the table and I poured us some coffee, we were not going to sleep tonight anyway. We could hear the laughing and MUSIC coming from the tree house, my twins Beth and Bobby, and their little friends, there were five of them, just like it had been with us. Jean’s oldest Ryan was among them. I wanted to bring up “our night”, I needed to talk about it, but I didn’t know where to start not even with Marty whom I was closer to than anyone in the world. That is when Marty broke the unspoken rule, the rule we never really made, but always seemed to follow.

“The weather is exactly like the night we went out. Did you notice how unseasonable warm it is, just a bit of a chill, but not cold like most years.”<br>
“Yeah I noticed.”<br>
“It was my fault Mare, I know none of you ever blamed me, but I have always blamed myself.”<br>
It had been his idea to follow that shaggy YELLOW dog into the woods BEHIND the old house, but he was not responsible for what happened to them there. Marty always thought he could save everyone and everything, and he was sure he could BEFRIEND that stupid dog. We had only brought two flashlights with us, so we decided we would all stay together and walk in a straight line one light on each end. I remember how dark it got with each step we took, and the sound of our breathing was the only thing to be heard. We lost the dog right off the bat, and then we lost ourselves; that is when we saw the fire and heard the men talking. We should have known that no sane person would actually be camping in the woods that time of year, but we were young and scared. We were taught to trust adults; I guess that is growing up in a small town where bad things just never happen.

Stan and Jean both strolled through the front door disturbing my thoughts. It was hard to believe that it had been George that had taken his own life, and not Stan. Stan and I were the ones who had suffered the most at the hands of those men, but George had delivered that skull CRUSHING blow to the bald ones head.

“Hey guys I got food for the kids, and booze for us!” He pulled the paper bag from behind his back. Stan drank a lot, but none of us blamed him. That was how he silenced the evil.

Jean and Stan sat down, and I got them both cups and filled them with coffee as Stan open the bottle and began pouring a splash in all of our cups. I topped mine and Marty’s off with some hot coffee, and we all sat there staring at our booze filled mugs, wanting to talk about that night, but not sure where to start.

“I was telling Mare that it was all my fault. You know the night it happened. If I hadn’t been so stupid it wouldn’t have happened.”<br>
Jean looked dumbfound, as she placed her hand over Marty’s. “It wasn’t your fault. You had no idea, and we all wanted to follow that damn dog Marty.”<br>
“We could have talked you out of it man, we could have said no way, we should have…” Stan’s eyes drifted to the floor.

I knew that Stan was thinking about the torture those men had put him, us, through. I still don’t understand why they singled the two of us out for their sick little games, I am sure they were going to work their way through the whole group, before George got brave and took a stand. I can still feel those vile hands against my skin, and looking up and seeing Stan’s naked little body bent over that log with the filthy SWEATY man kneeling behind him. I can still here Stan crying. I remember the words the bald man said as his fingers probed at my most private parts, “you know how long it’s been since I had nice tight pussy little girl, and I ain’t never had me no virgin pussy.” He put down the KNIFE he had been holding at my neck, and undid his pants. Sometimes I woke up at night hearing those words.

“I still can’t believe George killed himself. I always figured it would be me that took that route.” Stan was teary eyed. This had been the first time we had really talked about anything that happened that night.

“When George saw what that man intended to do to you Maryanne, he lost it. He broke that rope and picked up that rock and just started smashing it against that mans head over and over.” Jean shook her head in disbelief even after all these years it was still hard to believe.

The other man stood up and moved toward George, but Stan jumped up, the man didn’t know which way to turn. I couldn’t see what was going on the dead man was lying on top of me as bits of brains and blood ran into my eyes. The next thing I remember was George telling me it was all going to be all right. “Get him out of me.” Was all I could say, and George said “I am trying to pull him off you Mare; it is going to be ok.” He managed to pry the dead cold body off of me with Stan’s help, and when I stood up I saw the other man lying there dead as well. That is when Marty screamed “Oh my god you guys that is the sheriff” pointing at the man who had molested Stan.

[sidra]

sorry, everyone, but i'm too sick to finish my story in time. i'll be back to vote.

[Tricia]

She had risen with the moon.
Her hunger was overwhelming.

She headed into the night to begin the hunt. This was how she started every evening, quenching her bloodlust before taking on more hedonistic activities.

She had never had a problem befriending a lonely stranger at a bar. After a couple of drinks it was easy to convince them to follow her out. But tonight she needed more than some sleepy drunk could give her. She was restless and the need to surround herself with the smell of humans was a driving force.

She pushed her way through the crowded dance floor. The crush of people was invigorating. The pulsing beat of the music made her feel more alive than she had in years.

She saw the young man leaning against the wall under a neon sign. He was hot and strong… that’s what she wanted. She could smell his maleness from across the floor. She breathed deeply and felt it permeating every inch of her. She kept him in her line of sight as she made her way through the crowd.

Feeling the heat of eyes watching him from behind, he slowly turned towards her. His eyes were immediately drawn to hers like magnets… he didn’t have the strength to pull his gaze away as she took his hand and led him into a darkened corner of the dance floor.

They began to move together, a slow grinding of hips pressed tightly together. He had the look of a man in love as he stared into her eyes, their bodies moving in time to the throbbing beat of the music.

She had a half smile on her face as she pulled him deeper and deeper into the realm of her eyes. She felt the weight of the knife tucked tightly in her waistband. She kept it there hidden from sight, but easily accessible when the time came.

It was a nasty business, the drinking of human blood. Gone were the days when a girl could simply sink her sharp teeth into the warm, soft, flesh of a willing victim and feel the rush of hot, sweet blood pass over her lips and tongue.

Now she had to hide all traces of her feeding.

As they moved together in a grinding motion on the floor, she pulled the collar of his shirt away exposing the jugular vein that she wanted so badly to sink her teeth into. She ran her tongue slowly along the side of his neck, the salty taste of his sweat turning her hunger to a raging need that made her clench her hands into fists that left moon shaped nail prints in the soft flesh of her palm.

She could feel him growing hard against her hip as she rubbed him harder and faster in their rhythmic, sexual dance.
She had the strong desire to take him right there. The need was overwhelming and she knew that it would not be denied much longer.

She broke from him then, backing slowly away. Her eyes held his with a preternatural, yellow gleam that was easily visible in the darkened corner, but the lustful, gyrating throng around them was oblivious of the creature hunting in their midst.

Her eyes led her prey away from the crowd. She pulled him down into the deep cushions of one of the red, velvet couches that lined the back wall. She removed the knife from her side as she slowly went down on her knees beside him. She slid the knife firmly into his femoral releasing a spray of dark, red blood that she immediately clamped her mouth onto.

People walking by ignored the couple on the couch. They were obviously in the throes of passion. The man’s face was taut and contorted as if the ecstasy of what this woman was doing to him was more than he could control.

Finally he lay back on the couch as she began rising from her kneeling position. She reached up and ran her fingers over his eyes closing the lids so she wouldn’t leave him staring at the ceiling.

She ran her tongue along her lips taking the last of his taste into her mouth, and then she turned, a soft smile on her face as she made her way back through the hot crowd and into the dark night beyond.

[Tricia]

I'm last HA HA!
Big shocker *rolls eyes*

So no stories from the Doom, the Bee or Wasted Youth?
Darn... it's time to break out the old whip baby!

So start voting people... you only have until Friday night.
I'm already anxious to start the next round!
*dances stupidly in front of computer*

Woooo Hoo Jenn, watch me go!

*stops dancing*
Alright... enough of that shit!

You only get TWO votes thanks to the lazy bums who can't get it together to write one stinkin story... uh and sick people
*pats Sid's head*
We forgive you sicko
*smooch*

See you Friday my peeps

[jenn]

Dance baby dance!

Go Tricia Go Tricia.

Ok that's enough people are starting to stare.

[Tricia]

Stand back Jenn... you could get an eye poked out!
*does cartwheels around the forum*
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[jenn]

Wooo hooo Tricia girl!

I would break my neck if I did that... look out woman you going to knock over that...never mind.

Are you ok?