"Colors" (Fm mc vamp) Copyright 2000, 2003 by Dreamfire

Disclaimer:
I work for realism in most of my stories. (There are exceptions. This is one.)
In spite of this, some things are not possible. Nor should they be tried. 
If you are under 18, or whatever legal age is in your area, please read no 
further. If you are offended by sex or sexual situations, please see 
www.pbskids.org. I'm not kidding, it really is an interesting website. 
Feedback is actively solicited. Please do not post this on any other site 
without prior author permission. You have permission to archive this 
on your own machine in a non-public FTP directory. Enjoy.

Additional notes:

This story first appeared on the EMCSA in 2000. After a long period of 
being offnet, I realized that I miss having them up. Then, too, we have 
new people around the site. Feedback may be posted to the Forum. Please 
don't ask for my email. Thanks, and blessings.


This is a fragment of a much, much longer work I hope to work into a novel 
one day. Even though it's a piece of a story, it stands alone as a story 
as well. Feedback is actively solicited.


Tonight, as on so many nights before, I idly wonder what these children at 
their game would think if they knew who, and what, is watching them. Lost 
in their world of make-believe, ordered by hand signs and rules, most of 
them are oblivious. Only a few, the most sensitive, know there's anything 
unusual about me. There are the little effects I can't control, of course. 
Tempers run short, some of your friends get headaches. By and large, 
though, I pass through you unremarked. 

Normally, you're one of the most aware. You would sense me. You would feel
my presence. This night, there are important events happening to your alter 
self. They distract you from your own unease. I can see you apologizing for
snapping at someone, putting it down to nerves and the stress of the game.
You are unaware of the danger even as I hunt you.

And it is you I hunt, beautiful one. I've been watching you all night. 
I've been watching you for many nights. Fair enough to the normal eyes of 
the children around you, to me you shine. 

Even from outside, you stand out among all those silhouetted in the windows. 
It's your height, of course, but it's also something else. I've never been 
able to clearly define why some seem so alive and vibrant, and some seem 
so dim to me. They're lifeless and dull, as dead while they walk as a 
headless mantis. You...you glow with life. Your Prana is strong. You may 
play one of the undead, but there is no mistaking the vibrancy of your 
aura.

I have to have you. Forgive me, lovely one.

I take extra pains to mask the desire I feel. I have no wish for you to be 
aware of my stalking. It would not do to startle my prey. It taints the 
Prana, and that would mute the enjoyment. I make my way into the room where 
you stand, speaking and occasionally laughing with one of your friends. 
He's an attractive young man, but next to you he seems washed out and pale.

You sense me, pausing momentarily mid-laugh to look around. I hold my 
breath, a habit I can't seem to shake from years long gone, but as your 
eyes pass over me they do not pause. I am a background figure to you. In a 
moment, you will forget. It is the way of things.

Sure enough, you turn back to your conversation. Your amusement returns; 
has someone done something you consider to be ridiculous? I ponder, but do 
not expend the energy it would take to erase the moment of uncertainty 
completely from your memory. Using the Blessings carries a price, and I 
have no desire that you, so bright, so alive, should be the one to make 
the final payment for my carelessness. If I waste my power now, it might 
drain you too soon. I want you alive and well, forever if I can make it 
so. Profligacy with the Blessings and you might sicken.

Throughout the evening I follow you, taking care to remain unobserved. At 
one point I cannot stand the temptation of my proximity to you. I daringly 
gather a single hair from the back of your shirt. You turn and half-smile 
at me, curious at the touch. I apologize, my aura tightly cloaked, and 
after a moment you turn away. The hair may be dead, a discarded part of you,
but it still carries your essence. It warms me as I wrap it around my 
finger.

It is at times like this I want to revel in my power. It takes an act of 
discipline to turn away and join in the childrens' game as best I can. It 
is the strongest test of will to wait, wait, and wait still longer until 
the game begins to wind to its conclusion. You stay longer than most, 
which pleases me. There are perhaps ten players left when I finally 
approach you. The guilt that never leaves me fades slightly in the thrill 
of the chase.

I have, of course, prepared my camoflage fully. I look like a mere player 
myself, hair blackened artificially and eyes kohled. A silvery blouse and 
black denim jeans tucked into suede boots complete the guise. Unlike many 
who have come and gone this night, I wear no jewelry at all. The tribesfolk
who sacked Rome after the abuse they suffered at her hands would protest to
see their name associated with this disguise, but only a few of them are 
left to remember...and none of those of my Line. 

I see you restrain your urge to look me up and down. It's part of your 
charm. Instead you smile at me, ending your conversation with a much 
shorter young man who then heads to his car. I reach up and curl a lock of 
my hair around one finger. I summon my acting ability to appear nervous and 
shy. "Could I...I parked in the wrong lot. It's kind of dark there. Could 
I get you to walk me to my car?" 

The appeal is simple, its allure hard for one such as you to resist. You 
nod immediately. After a few more comments here and there to the vanishing 
players, we head for the far parking lot...and your test. I find myself 
hoping more and more that you might be the one, might have the spark I so 
desire.

Once away from everyone, once the chatter of the departing storytellers 
and those heading for late-night coffee is gone, you become silent. It is 
not for fear of me, no...you don't know me or what I am. I am too tightly 
veiled. Even if you did, I think deep within your secret self you would be 
more curious than alarmed. No, this silence is part of who you are. So 
rare, so different, in this age of brazen openness. It reminds me of a 
time when I dared to walk openly, when my Line and the Lines of my cousins
were free to be ourselves.

You glace at me sidelong as we leave the more familar area for darker 
shadows. Finally, you venture words. "Where are you parked?"

I'm not proud of myself, but the lie comes easily to practiced lips. "Over 
there, at the edge of the trees." True, there is a car there. I know it
was abandoned a month ago. You are innocent to that fact. The car's 
presence reassures you, and we head that way.

Now comes the delicate point, my love. This nexus is the hardest part, the 
critical moment. To break you would be so easy. Any of my kind can utterly 
crush a will. It's part of what we are. People are such fragile creatures. 
I know. I was a person once, before I was Reborn. It was the first lesson 
taught by my Inceptress.

To break you is not what I desire. For this to work, for this to be right, 
you must come to me. So I stop, patting down my pockets. "Oh...shit!" I 
exclaim. "I don't have my keys!" I hurry to the car, moving ahead of you, 
and attempt to open the door. Of course it's locked. As you quicken your 
steps to catch me, I slam a fist against the door in mock frustration.

You say softly "Do you have anyone who can come get you?" I shake my head, 
bringing up the false tears. I hate myself for this. If only there were 
another way. "No," I lie. "My friends went out of town...that's why I came 
to the game. Now I'm stuck here. I don't have cash for a locksmith. If I 
could just get home..."

I watch you weigh your options. I don't want to move with the Blessings too 
soon. You hold out about five seconds longer than I expected. "Well...I 
could take you to an ATM..."

I shake my head. "Card's at home, see?"

You nod and sigh. "Well, I could..." You shyly leave it unfinished. I look 
up at you with genuine hope. You have a soft heart. The appeal is too much, 
and you crumble. "I mean, if you live close..."

One of my toys does. He chose to sleep elsewhere tonight. I think he sensed
that I planned to go on the hunt. It's irrelevant in so many ways. He will 
never match your brilliance, but he can be useful. "Fairly close, yeah," I 
murmur. I give you the nearest cross streets and before long I'm in your 
car. I buckle in and close my eyes.

I am finally ready to use the Blessing. This is the part that is most 
likely to go awry. Too little Prana and my will won't take. Too much, and 
your colors dim and you're never the same. I'm silent in concentration; 
you're silent in shyness. The only words we exchange are our names. You 
don't know what a gift I'm giving you, for more than any holy symbol, 
Names have Power. Now with the Blessing of power gifted to me by the 
Rebirth, I touch the fringes of your mind. You are intelligent. I already 
knew that. It takes only the lightest of nudges to sway a thought, then 
another. Only two thoughts, the bare kiss of a change...I must hope it's 
enough.

As we go down the road, the warmth of your Prana leads me back to the 
stolen hair. I wrap it around my finger, then pull free. It knots. The 
spell is sealed. I glance at you for the first time. You already look 
preoccupied, a very good sign. I begin to dare to hope.

At the door, I pull a key from under a stone. You stand and shift your
weight from foot to foot, clearly not sure if it's wise to leave me in 
this neighborhood. I unlock the door and pause. "Why don't you come in 
and get a Coke or something?" I reach into my pocket again, twining the 
knotted hair around my finger. You nod, blushing a bit. 

You're still keyed up from the game. Going home to a silent apartment is 
unappealing. You rationalize almost visibly to me, as I gesture you in and 
close the door. I lock it behind us. Not unusual in this modern day.

I point to the kitchen with a smile. "Coke's in the fridge" I sing out. 
"Help yourself!" I watch as you make your way and open the door. I kill 
time by spilling out drawers in a show of looking for a spare set of keys.

I can see as the suggestions of the spell begin to take effect. You yawn 
a little and make your way to the couch, where you settle in. I smile and 
put on soft music. "Hey...you want to stay a bit? Take a mini-nap? You 
look tired."

You hesitate, then murmur "If it wouldn't be any trouble?"

But it's not, of course it's not, and the suggestions really begin their 
work. You begin to yawn more, eyes fluttering half-closed. I begin to hum 
quietly, moving around the room slowly and fluidly. Before long, I kneel 
in front of you. You look so dazed and sleepy. I can see the brilliant 
colors shifting from waking reds and purples to deep blues and greens. 
Sometimes the power is so easy to wield, and the mind does my work for me.
All it took was to suggest you were thirsty, and that the drink would make 
you feel sleepy.

I want to see a particular shade of robin's-egg blue. It is a sweet shade, 
a hypnotic shade, and I want it to filter through your aura. I can already 
see it speckling the fringes. I reach up to your chin and touch it, guiding 
your already heavy-lidded eyes to gaze into my own. "Look at me, are you 
OK?" I breathe.

"Yeah," you say drowsily. "Just sleepy."

I feel the rush thrill me, and fight it down. I keep my hand on your chin. 
"I love your eyes," I say softly. "Such a beautiful green..."

I blink, and you blink with me. Good. I synchronize my breathing to yours. 
It's not difficult, since I don't really need air to survive anymore. I 
feel you lock onto my breath. The blue begins to spread through the other 
colors and displace them. I lower my eyelids a little, and you follow suit.

"Such a beautiful green...like fields. Like soft grass. I'd like to lie 
down with you in soft grass. I'd like to sleep next to you in soft grass. 
So soft. So warm. So sleepy. You're sleepy, aren't you?"

You nod a little, fighting to stir yourself. I hold your gaze. "Think of 
the fields," I say, slowing my breathing. Yours follows dutifully. "Think 
of how nice it would be to go to sleep in them. Sleeping so deep...next to 
me." The blue is spreading, tendrils rippling through the fading purples 
and other blues. You can feel the power of my gaze now, and I keep 
whispering to you...whispering so you must listen closely to hear. "Feel 
the wind blowing through your hair, the sunlight on your face. It's so 
warm and peaceful here...and you're feeling warm and peaceful. Warm and 
peaceful, and it's so green. Warm and peaceful, and you're so sleepy, 
curling up next to me in the green. So relaxed and so calm, so sleepy and 
warm. I can feel it...you can feel it. We're together curling up in the 
green."

By now you're blinking a little of your own accord, fighting to stay alert. 
So often with the brilliant ones the entrancement comes easily. You are no 
exception. I carefully, carefully reach in and ever so lightly caress your 
mind. The tendrils of blue expand outward, becoming the dominant color. I 
keep speaking, but the words don't matter so much now. You're giving in, 
and you're beginning to enjoy it judging from the electric green that rims 
the burgeoning blue. I close my eyes for a moment, reopen them, and yours 
are closed.

I sigh softly, pushing you back against the back of the couch. You slump, 
totally relaxed and limp now. I deepen your trance, withholding use of the 
Blessing for now. Words are enough. Simple techniques are all that I
require, counting and long passes over your body. Anton would be quite 
surprised to see the way I use what I was taught. The blue completely 
envelops your aura, all other colors mere specks. You are open to me. The
spell is complete.

I murmur "Do you know why you are here?" softly, caressing your unresisting 
face. Your skin is warm and soft, clean-shaven as you are.

You nod slowly. In a soft, dazed voice you murmur "You're going to rob me 
and maybe kill me...I'm scared. I wish you wouldn't, but I can't stop you. 
I'm drugged."

I sit back in surprise for a moment at the conclusions you've reached. So 
that's how you interpreted the command that the drink would make you feel 
relaxed and sleepy. Then I scold myself for being startled. Yes, of course,
that is what you would expect. With these times, when my Line is hidden,
what other rational conclusion could you draw? To take the simplest 
explanation is normal. Luckily for you, because of your colors, you are 
wrong. You are worth more to me than any money you could ever make, any item
you could ever possess.

I smile softly. "You want something else, though. What is it you want, pet?"
The green in the aura expands for a second. Yes, my instincts lead me 
correctly. There's more to this than I had perhaps anticipated.

You hesitate, then murmur "I want you to have sex with me before you kill 
me or whatever. I can't help it, so it won't be my fault." I watch you 
harden, even in your relaxed state. I don't respond, so you continue. "I 
want to die happy. I want to serve you."

Amazed, I watch the colors in your aura flicker. This is all true. I stand 
and grasp your wrists firmly. You let out a soft sigh and slump farther, 
and the blue and green fight for control of your colors. "You want to be 
mine," I breathe, making it a statement. "You want to serve me. You want 
to be marked by me."

I have seen this before, but how long has it been? I cannot remember. I 
go on "You want to be held by me, trapped by me, and know you cannot fight."

You whisper simply "Yes," and stay still. It's all I can do to keep from 
tasting you now. You'd never know. I sense more to come, though, and 
refrain. Instead, I reach into your mind and nudge. There is no need to call
for the Blessings. You are too open to me.

You feel the cuffs lock around your wrists, and a moan escapes you. Even 
though you are unrestrained in reality, you expect to be. Your own mind 
has captured you. Waves of blue and green race each other across your aura.
I lick my lips. I want your Prana.

More words are needed, if this is to last. I croon softly "Little pet, 
you're being so good by not resisting...by realizing how helpless you are 
against me." I run my fingers over your groin, feeling the hardness jump 
against your restraining jeans. "How long have you wanted to be someone's 
pet, little one? I'm curious, have you been waiting your whole life to 
belong to someone?"

The trance keeps your breathing slow, but your skin flushes and you moan 
softly. It's answer enough. I pull away and my voice firms. "Present 
yourself, pet, make yourself pleasing to me." It's a command rather than a 
request, and you shudder once, then slide from the couch to your knees. I 
watch as you bring your arms up slowly, still moving as if they were locked
together, and lace your fingers behind your head. "Open your eyes," I 
order, and you do, looking into mine vacantly. I suppress a shudder as the 
blue completely takes your aura. You're mine.

The urge to take you, to bleed your aura into dry grey, is pulsing. I push 
it down. The colors vibrate into me, and I twine the hair around my finger 
again. I slowly undo the buttons on my blouse, provoking no visible 
response from those blank eyes. Then I step close to you, holding your 
wrists, and pull your head to my breast. 

Slowly. Slowly. I can't rush this...it must be done carefully, and well. 
As your breath washes over my chest, the colors begin to leak into my 
own aura. Mine brightens, even as your Prana dims slightly. You moan, 
feeling the dizziness of something other than trance wash through you. It
feels like a crashing wave to you, I can sense it. You are tumbling in the
wake of your colors becoming my own, and slow as it is to me, it's a violent
storm to you. 

I hold you steady and firm, and you relax, sink, deflate, coming to rest 
against me. The submission makes your aura regain much of its color. That 
pleases me. It shows you are still strong within. I whisper words to you, 
words that make you get even harder, but I can't let you have an orgasm. 
That would waste the Prana I so desperately need from you, even as it 
would make your colors sweeter and harder to resist. I must resist the urges
just a little longer.

I close my eyes and pace myself. Your colors soak into me, and I take them.
I become alive, brilliant, warm. I feel your life in me. Neither of us move.
You cannot. I do not dare.

When I step away from you an hour later, we are both spent. I settle you 
onto the couch with tender care. You sigh and snuggle down, again looking
like innocent as a child. I wipe tears away from my eyes as I kneel by 
you, serving you now. 

As I must serve you, as all my Line must serve...a fact so many still choose
to forget. You're mine, but I know I can't exist without you. I'm in love 
with the purity of your colors. I'm in love with the Prana you exude. I 
wonder if, in time, I can be in love with you. 

Once I could have taken you as a priest. I am not so fortunate in these
times. I know that I need to mark you as mine and mine alone, soon, before 
one of the others of my kind spots you. It can't be long in coming. Even 
drained, I can see the shimmer of your colors beginning to come back, heal,
regenerate.

It hurts me to do what I must do. I reach out and draw my fingers across 
your aura over one shoulder. The colors turn black, and you whimper. I 
kneel and kiss you, using the Blessing to sterilize the edges so the wound
doesn't spread. My mark forms out of the tracing, claiming you as my own. 
Then I let you sleep for another hour while I clean the apartment. It may 
not be appropriate according to the ways of the Reborn, but I always feel 
so much more human after a good feeding. I need to work off the guilt 
anyway.

Dawn will come, and you will wake. You will not remember how you got to 
this place. But when I call to you, you will come to me. You will never
again be able to resist.

Perhaps you will be the one I seek, the one who will join together others
of mine and give me a way to forsake the hunting, the coldness. Perhaps I 
have drained too much already and you will be as dim as the toy whose 
couch supports you. As I slip out the door and into the welcoming night, I
dash away fresh tears and go to find my rest. 

And I will dream of you and your colors.