Fumbling along the fence he traced the outline
of his gate, searching for the latch. The garden was pitch black, that in
itself made him uneasy, but the window was open wide.
"Thank Heaven for small mercies."
Balancing the patio chair on the table he managed to reach the sill and
hauled himself up, struggling, face scraping against the wall, into the
room. There were fresh scratches on both brickwork and around the plastic
Virtually slithering onto the floor, he hadn't had time to compose himself
before he felt uneasy once more. As if he were not alone. Unfortunately
the light switch was beside the door. Looking across the dark room he
saw a pair of feet, naked feet.
"No, please, not her."
Casually the figure moved towards him, even from that angle she was impressive,
firm thighs daring his stare higher to a body he, for some inexplicable
reason, suddenly longed to explore. If he lived that long. Hands reached
out for him, gripping him by the shoulders, lifting him until his feet
became light on the floor. As her fingers locked into position, needle
like nails cut into his flesh. Alan winced and despite being a virtual
atheist, he prayed, fervently.
The woman sniffed his shoulders, as though she had already detected the
blood and smiled. Obviously she had. One hand freed itself from Alan's
jumper, gliding lightly over his body.
"Checking the merchandise?" Alan asked awkwardly.
A nail appeared right in front of his face, a long honed nail. At the
very base was dried blood, along the underside brick dust, the edges were
rough, but clearly very sharp. Alan didn't even attempt to struggle.
"Please let it be painless."
The hard tip scratched a path down his body, the sound of tearing fabric
rang loud in Alan's ears and even as his clothes were wiped away he began
to sweat. Maybe that was what she wanted, as her tongue immediately began
licking the salt from his skin.
"If you kill me that supply dries up instantly," he offered.
Suddenly she gripped him firmly and threw him onto the bed.
"I'm glad you memorised the room," Alan said, almost casually,
as though the delay in his death had given him confidence.
Once again her tongue was on him, thankfully it was wandering away from
his throat. Cautiously he moved his hands, gently touching her flesh,
as if to verify that she was indeed real.
Familiar, is it not?
To that there was no doubt, she was hot, even beneath his clammy hands.
Fingers ran over her back, afraid to wander far. Then he felt the creature's
breath begin to move across his torso, maybe seeking the sweetest flesh.
"Please don't bite?" As if mere words could placate her.
A tongue began to tease, or was it merely taste, neither action was exactly
"No." Alan forced the thought aside. It wasn't difficult to
picture his own skin, shredded strips of it, hanging from her mouth.
Somehow it felt unreal, after all she was as deadly as a lioness, yet
she stalled, almost as though she were after something else.
An obtuse thought flashed through a troubled mind.
It was far too off beat, that ... The images failed to completely materialise,
but just for a second he had imagined that it was in her fantasy he was
In the back of his mind two thoughts were however dominant, that the female
preying mantis has sex before devouring her mate and that this vixen was
just as capable of the same feat.
Things were so confusing, was she beauty, or the beast? Was he destined
for paradise, or a swift journey through hell, to a land of eternal darkness?
"You are one irresistible woman," Alan admitted.
It smiled, this creature of the darkness, rising up to make a final choice
perhaps, those moist lips parted exposing her most impressive weapons.
It was going to be now.
Despite his imminent death, Alan found himself captivated, looking up
to that beautiful face he felt elated. Why? Firm hands pressed on his
shoulders fingers massaging tense muscles. What was she doing? Softening
the surface? Each motion she made became more... excited, for want of
a better word and those incredibly keen nails dug deep into Alan's neck.
"Careful," he begged, all too aware of his vulnerability.
For the first time, sound seeped from her lips, a deep growl, was it passion,
or something more sinister.
Suddenly she was all over him, kissing as though he were irresistible,
teeth occasionally scraping skin, her mouth moulding over tight curves,
her touch exceedingly delicate. It seemed that it was Alan's reverie after
It was bliss, such sensitivity from one he had assumed no more than a
"Anyone would think you loved me, were capable of love," he
A soft lapping sound was her only reply. Cautiously he tried to lift her
head, to look into her eyes, but she seemed shy, she wouldn't allow any
movement. Alan brushed her hair away from his face and his palm passed
over his lips.
A metallic taste welled up in his mouth, like rust.
Ripping her away, Alan saw that her mouth was dripping, dripping red.
Those deep blue eyes were cold, without a trace of love.