by David Salkin
“I love how she does the contrast,” whispered Sara. “The super dark background against the model’s skin. That girl needed some sun!” she said with a giggle.
“When you said contrast, I thought you meant the soft hair against the hard muscles of her back. She is arching so hard—I find it very sexual, don’t you?”
Sara blushed and broke eye contact with him. “Yes, well, Gellman is very sensual with her portraits. You know that’s how she got her start, right?”
“No. I told you, I wanted you to teach me about her. I only knew her last name and saw a couple of pictures. I came here to see more,” he lied.
“Well, she worked in the porn industry for a few years while she was trying to keep a roof over her head and working on her portfolio.”
“Oh my,” said Adam, feigning some sort of shock.
“Yeah. I’m not sure she is so sexual because of the time she spent in that industry, or if she went to that industry because she is so sexual, you know?”
“Yes, you are,” he said quietly, looking deeply into her eyes.
“Yes I am, what?” she asked defensively.
“You are sure. Most women would never get anywhere near a movie set with actors having sex and doing all kinds of aberrant behaviors under the eyes of an entire film crew. If Lisa was comfortable enough to be around that, it is because she is very sexual herself. Judging by this picture, I’d say she goes both ways, wouldn’t you?” He was staring deep into her eyes when he asked her.
Her mouth went dry. “I have no idea,” she said quietly, and walked on to the next picture, obviously flustered by his comment.
The next picture was another nude, this time a partial male figure, again showing his tense back, shoulder and part of an extremely muscular arm. “Again, she shows figures straining—struggling perhaps,” said Adam quietly to his new acquaintance.
“I never really looked at it like that, I guess,” said Sara. “I always looked at her work more from a technical perspective. I am an amateur photographer myself. I have always admired the ways she uses her lens and lighting. I guess I never thought so deeply about the subjects. You seem to have an eye for the subtleties of her subjects.”
“Subtle? I can practically hear the man screaming,” he said quietly. He could practically taste the endorphins in the man’s blood as he screamed in pain…he felt his teeth move.
She again moved on to the next picture. It was a kitten.
“Seems so out of place, no?” asked Adam.
She laughed. “Not really, the kitten is naked, too.” He smiled. She had successfully lightened things up a bit. They continued their stroll down the gallery, and he listened to Sara explain some of the technical techniques that she found interesting. Adam could have cared less and tried his best not to stare at her carotid artery that was pumping so loud it was making him crazy. It was difficult to keep the animal inside sometimes. A hundred years ago he would have devoured her already— he was getting better with experience. He thought about the kitten for a split second and remembered eating one. It had been disgusting and made him vomit for quite some time.
The time passed and Sara looked down at her watch. “It’s getting late,” she said. “I should be getting ready to head home. It was nice meeting you, Adam,” she said, extending her hand. Adam felt an uneasy feeling, a confusion he hadn’t felt in this walking death after life. He wanted to continue to know more about her, but he also wanted to open her throat and suck every last ounce of blood out of her and feel and taste every bit of her. She was hesitating, waiting for him to ask for her number, ask her out, something?
“Perhaps you’d like to grab a drink?” he finally asked. It just sort of came out of his mouth.
“I don’t know, I should probably get home. I have to work tomorrow.” It wasn’t a “no”, she just needed a push.
“Oh, come on—just one. You won’t be out late.” He realized it was dinner hour and she would need to eat, (something he couldn’t do in front of her.) He realized it would be bizarre for them to go out and “grab a bite” and then he not eat, so he quickly back-pedaled. “I’ll tell you what—instead of a quick bite and a rush home because of work, what do you say we do something next Friday or Saturday night, when we can enjoy an evening out?”
She smiled and cocked her head, perhaps trying to decide if he was safe to go out with. He didn’t
look like a monster.
“Sure,” she said with a smile. “That would be nice.” She opened her purse and fished for a pen with which to write her phone number…
Eleven
VWX
The Village
Adam walked Sara out and saw her to a cab. Evidently, she didn’t want to make the same long walk in the near-dark. Adam smiled his most charming smile and waved goodbye as she sped off in the taxi, and he began walking quickly, heading south down the long avenue. He walked faster and faster, feeling a rage building inside. He was hungry, that was true, but he was also angry. The woman had made him feel some type of actual emotions, something that hadn’t happened since Renee, and he found it unnerving. The further he walked, the faster he went, and the angrier he became. What was it about her? He could almost feel his claws and teeth trying to come out, but concentrated as hard as he could to keep the animal inside.
The sun was setting behind the tall skyscrapers of New York, and
• 60 • Adam walked until he was in Greenwich Village. He had been walking for over thirty minutes. Unlike humans, his legs felt no hint of being tired, although he was getting hungry. As he entered the smaller streets of Greenwich Village, he passed by a bar called the Slaughtered Lamb. It had a horror theme, and portrayed a werewolf hanging outside the bar. Inside, horror movies ran on small black and white televisions and grotesque statues and paintings decorated the popular bar. He smiled as he walked in and scanned the place. It was mostly young people, and they had wasted no time in starting to drink heavily. He spotted an obviously drunk young woman dressed appropriately in a style known as “Goth”. Evidently, appearing dead was an actual fashion these days.
Her hair was dyed an unnatural black, while her makeup was extremely white with black lipstick. She had a lip ring, and eyebrow ring, and a nose ring. There were too many earrings to count. Black eye makeup finished her face along with her black “rouge” to hollow her cheek bones. It was a nice contrast to the black shirt, black jeans, black boots and black fingernails. Adam smiled and thought to himself, “She thinks she knows death?”
He moved through the crowd to get closer to her, intrigued by her makeup and attire, but most interested in her leopard skin fur coat. It was obviously fake, but it did look like fur, and Adam had every intention on sleeping on it this very evening. When he was next to her, he smiled and said, “I’d love to buy you a drink.” He stared deep into her eyes, his own eyes now getting silvery and twinkling in the dim light of the bar. She was staring back into them, lost for a moment, and then responded with a heavy New York accent.
“Yeah? Patron tequila and a beer—how about that?” “Sounds wonderful,” he said, although he loathed the smell of tequila. It would affect her taste later on, he knew, but perhaps he could get other chemicals in her body to overpower the smoky taste it gave to blood. He ordered her drinks, and handed them to her.
“Where’s yours?” she asked. “Sweetheart, I am much too high to drink right now,” he said in a slow soothing voice.
She threw back the shot quickly and washed it down with a swig from her cold beer. She appeared to really enjoy it, and Adam was feeling jealous. It was a very emotional day for him indeed.
“Yeah? You high? Your eyes do look kind of glazed,” she said, staring into the silvery pools. “What ya’ got?”
“On me? Oh, sorry, nothing on me. Too dangerous. The shit is just too good,” he said, mocking her without her knowing it. “Such a sweet buzz…”
“Yeah? I bet. You live around here?” she asked, her own agenda starting to formulate.
“
Not too far. Uptown a bit. What about you?”
“Right down the block. I love the fuckin’ Village, ya’ know?” She drank more of her beer, and Adam ordered another shot of tequila without asking her. He merely handed it to her and she threw it back. “So what kind of buzz you got going?” she asked.
“X and some snow,” he said slowly, licking his lips at her. He had lived long enough to have seen and heard it all. This child, trying so hard to be cool, was a snack awaiting his invitation.
“X, huh? I love fuckin’ on X. I can go all night.” She leaned in closer, almost face to face. He looked at her and thought about her face. She might have been fairly pretty if not for the clown makeup and piercings. She had large breasts that would bleed well, and he could smell her pheromones kicking in, even with the smoke in the bar. Apparently, the ‘No Smoking’ sign was for show only.
“Me, too,” he whispered, looking deeper into her eyes. His were now such a bright silver she couldn’t stop looking into them.
“Man, you look wasted,” she said, looking into his eyes of liquid mercury. Then she laughed, her own buzz kicking in. “I live right down the street,” she said again.
“So you said. Maybe I could come visit,” he said.
“Buy me another shot and beer and I’ll take you home with me right now,” she said with a slight slurr. She leaned in and rubbed her hands over his body. His body was hard and muscular.
“Damn—you this hard all over?” she said in her sexiest voice, her hand sliding down his pant leg.
He held her hand and whispered, “Not yet,” then ordered her drinks. She drank them quickly, watching his silvery eyes twinkle while he licked his lips at her.
She looked at his tongue and whispered, “You just hold that thought, baby. I’m gonna’ take that tongue for a ride.”
“Let’s go,” he said, taking her by the hand and walking out of the bar with her, doing his best to keep his face low and in the dark. He was being much more careless than usual, but it had been an unusual day. That Sara woman had somehow upset him, and this poor woman was going to pay the price.
They left the bar, arm in arm, as he let her lead him down the block towards her apartment. They made an interesting couple—her in her wild Goth outfit and makeup, and he in his khaki slacks and dress shirt under a leather jacket. As they walked up the stairs to her studio, she whispered to him, “I like it a little rough,” and scratched his hand with her fingernails.
He smiled, but said nothing.
She keyed her way into her apartment and screamed out “Faye?”, but there was no answer. “Good, my roommate’s out. She’ll be at her boyfriend’s all night…”
Adam helped her with her fake leopard skin coat, and carefully placed it on the counter by the front door. He didn’t want it soiled. He then placed his hand around her throat and leaned in to her, his other hand sliding over her large right breast, stopping to pinch and twist her nipple.
“Yeah…” she moaned. “That’s it, baby. I like it rough.” She reached down for the zipper of his slacks, but he took her hand and pulled it away hard, bringing it up behind her back enough to hurt.
“Yeah, baby…you gonna’ give it to me hard?” she whined, leaning in to lick and nibble his neck. She was too drunk to realize how cold his skin was. He smiled to himself. He would soon be sucking her neck, too, just a little harder.
He picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. It was tiny, enough room for a bed and a bureau. There was a tiny television on top of a milk crate in the corner. He placed her on her feet gently, thinking that perhaps he would allow this one to give him a show for a moment. She seemed so enthusiastic, and he was still thinking about Sara. She would provide a nice distraction.
“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.
“You don’t want to take them off for me, baby?” she said, sticking out her black bottom lip in a fake pout. He reached out with lightning speed and ripped her lip ring off, splitting her lip and making her bleed.
“Fuck!” she screamed. “You asshole!” She put her hand over her lip and felt the blood. “You ripped my fucking lip!”
“You said you liked it rough,” he replied slowly, and allowed his claws to extend only a few millimeters. He reached up and slashed open her blouse, her turquoise bra showing from underneath. The lace was pretty, and reminded him of the French whores from so long ago. He pushed her back on to the bed, and inhaled deeply. He smelled fear, and his hair tingled. He was on her quickly, tearing open her bra and sucking her breast into his mouth. She pushed back, but only a little. She was angry about her lip, but was turned on by his dominant nature. He sucked her nipple hard, feeling it harden in his mouth, and he heard her moan. He listened to the blood rushing faster in her veins, and could feel the animal inside him trying to get out.
“Soon…soon….but not yet,” he told himself. He wanted to enjoy this for a moment. It was almost human. The woman was so turned on he could smell her sex. Pheromones and adrenaline were pumping in her veins. She would be delicious.
He stood up, towering above her in the tiny room. “Take everything off!” he bellowed, and she quickly complied, scared a little, but turned on by the whole scene. She had been beaten up by her sexual partners on more than one occasion, and was never one to complain about it. Sometimes it made her come even harder. She arched her back and ripped her own bottoms off, and as she arched, Adam thought back to the alabaster white skin of the arching girl in the photograph. Then he thought of Sara. A real woman he could never enjoy in the truest sense. The animal was coming out.
She threw off her bra and panties and laid back on the bed, spreading her legs shamelessly to show him her freshly shaven pubic mound. There was a tattoo of a dragon where her pubic hair had once been, and Adam found it ironic and wonderful. He leaned down between her legs and whispered, “You have a monster down there…”She didn’t realize he meant himself. He pushed her thighs wide, her skin as white as the girl in the Gellman photo, and whispered, “Arch for me…”
The girl complied, now so turned on she was lost in her own lust. She arched her back and squeezed her own breasts hard, pulling at her erect nipples and moaning as she pleaded with him to lick her. Adam licked across her sex slowly, smelling and tasting her hormones raging. Her blood was pounding in her veins so loud he couldn’t believe that the neighbors couldn’t hear it. His fangs and claws were sliding out, but he held himself together. He didn’t want to lose control this time. He leaned into her thigh, seeing her blood rushing through her femoral artery. He slid his fangs in very slowly—gently even, and let her blood rush into his mouth.
“Oh gawwwwwd!” she moaned, arching her back even further as she squeezed her large breasts. She had no idea he had bitten clean through, instead only feeling him sucking so close to the parts that were needing to be sucked and licked. “Don’t tease me anymore! I can’t take it! Eat me!” she moaned.
He looked up at her and smiled, showing his bloody fangs. “You read my mind,” he said, watching her eyes go wide as she saw his fangs, bloody from her thigh. She quickly tried to push away, but Adam was like lightning, and as strong as several men. He buried his face back in her crotch and bit so hard he completely severed her artery. The animal was out now, and he was no longer in control. His claws tore through her breasts as he pushed her down while sucking her blood violently through the large artery in her crotch.
She screamed terribly, but he leapt from her crotch to her throat burying his fangs in her throat and enjoying the spray of blood into his mouth. The taste of tequila was unpleasant, but mostly overpowered by sexual chemicals and adrenaline. Endorphins began to kick in as he tore her up, and he loved that special taste. It made him want to hurt her intentionally, wanting more of the chemical released when humans feel pain. He sucked her neck hard, and her kicking slowed as her life’s energy vanished into his mouth. He felt her die, always the disappointing ending to his feast, but he slid down her chest and sucked blood from her breasts in an attempt to
get something sexual from her. She was dead and the blood was mostly out of her, though. Her breasts no longer full of life and sexual pleasure.
Adam stood up and looked at her. She was pale. Very dead. Arched on the bed. “My God,” he thought as a huge smile crept across his bloody lips, “If I had a camera I could add her to the exhibit.” A part of him wanted to call Sara and tell her to come right over and see what he had created for her, but he knew she wouldn’t understand. He wiped his face and relaxed his hands, the talon-like claws sliding back into place. He knew he needed to get rid of the body. He
knew it. He had learned a lot in over a century of murder—but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t disturb the perfect scene he had made. He photographed it in his mind—saw it in black and white, and smiled. He grabbed her coat on the way out.
Twelve
VWX
Midtown North Precinct
Monday afternoon started with the usual post-weekend madness. Weekends tended to be busier than midweek, and Roy worked a Thursday through Monday schedule most of the time. He walked in a little before three o’clock for a three to eleven shift.
“Morning Sergeant,” mumbled one of the officers in his squad as he walked in for roll call. “Your phone’s been busy today.” Ruiz thanked him and headed over to his ancient wooden desk. It was probably the original desk from the 1950’s when the precinct was built. The light for voicemail was flashing three at a time meaning he had three voicemails. The phone system was only a little newer than his desk.
The first message was from Captain Ammiano: “Hey, Roy. Just checking in from the lake. Fish are biting and the beer is cold—you’d
