Swoon - rewrite

I originally wote this story several years ago. Since then, I've reworked and rewritten it several times. I think I'm finally happy with it. Enjoy.

"Swoon"
By Butch Hendricks

Pounding music and flashing lights in the darkness of Dead End made the club surrealistic. People danced in the semi darkness and thunderous music like ghosts cause in a storm, of primitives dancing in firelight. Yet the vampire cruised through the sights, sounds and raw emotion like a shark scenting water for a trace of blood. He was here to feed, but, unlike most of his kind, refused to feed from simply random people. He was searching for a different flavor. He was scenting the psychic breeze for a soul that would welcome what he had to offer. Death. He had caught such a flavor as he'd entered the club. Ahh, there it was again!

Reaching out, his mind found the perfect soul. The despair and loneliness radiated from her with a cloying sweetness like fruit left to decay. She was a plain woman, given to slight chunkiness and a sweet face. She dressed too far over the top and used too much makeup to cover the flaws she saw in herself. But that couldn’t hide the fact there were never messages on her answering machine from potential suitors. No man had ever looked at her "that" way The vampire could sense such a burning need for love and affection, validation, that it almost broke even his undead heart. She felt she had so much to give, but no one seemed interested. He sensed that she had reached a point of no return in her life. That both God and the world had written her off as a poor investment. She was here to say good bye to the world that had treated her so poorly, then go home to seek her end. He would help her find that passage.

He was tall, with a noble, face and regal bearing, with short dark hair and piercing eyes. He didn’t walk so much as glide, a shadow in the glaring light. Reaching her table, he waited patiently until she met his eye. He reached out his hand to her. Her bitter and mistrustful eyes opened wide, like those of a deer, as she took it and allowed him to pull her from her seat and lead her out onto the dance floor. Despite the wild tempo of the techno pop, he held her close in a warm embrace. She shivered at his touch.

Speaking directly to her mind, he told her that she’d deserved so much better. Opening his mind to hers, he found mental snapshots of a life filled with humiliating, awkward moments, trying to connect with other people. Male relatives that touched and abused her, then called her a whore and a cow for allowing such things. Horrific times when she actually missed the touch of an uncle's hands on the back of her head as he forced himself into her mouth. Even if it had been wrong, at least, in that instant, she'd been wanted.

The memories were almost more than the vampire could bear. It was as if she'd been made, just to suit his needs. But then, it seemed as if that was all she'd ever known, serving someone else's needs. He whispered into her mind that if she would so honor him, he could show her the true meaning of love. Still swaying to the music, he took her face into his hands, looking probingly into her eyes. They were bright with hope, tears and regret. Her mascara was running slightly in a couple of places. Softly, he wiped away her tears, tracing the outline of her face with his fingertips. Through their connection, he felt a bitter pain spearing through her heart. "Why could it not always be this way?" she thought. Guilt began to nag at him as he pressed his lips to hers. With that simple contact, she sighed into his mouth and melted against him. He insulated them from the world, pouring thoughts of acceptance and love into her and beginning to hate himself for it..

They danced together that way for hours. There were never words. Just her eager embrace and his gentle touches and thoughts. Regardless of what music was playing, they danced slowly, each entangled in the other. She devoured the attention he was showering on her, filling herself with it to overflowing. At last, he led her off the dance floor, she, eagerly, he, with reluctance driven by a self loathing at the way he knew the evening would end, helped her into her coat. After a final kiss and embrace, he followed her to her apartment.

Walking in, it was as he had expected. Bright colors, frilly things, too much. A vain falsehood to make herself feel that all was happy and her life fulfilled. He noticed the pictures of smiling men’s faces. She never appeared in the pictures with the men. There was a single, small picture of her as a child, heavy, sad and always alone. She hung up their coats, looking at him nervously.

"C..Can I get..." She stammered.

He placed a finger over her lips, telling her mind that words were not needed here. He led her by the hand into her bedroom. The double bed was filled with idiotically smiling stuffed toys, her make up table filled to overflowing. The only light, a bright pink pair of neon lips, blinked on and off, alternating with the words "Hey Hot Stuff!" The room was filled with the reek of crushing sadness, despair and unanswered prayers. He wondered if he'd be able to do this, but his own body was screaming with needs of its own.

She came to him with frightened eyes and a nervous giggle. Clumsily, she tried to unbutton his shirt, but his hands covered hers. Stepping behind her, he kissed her neck and allowed his hands to gently explore her. Her breathing grew heavy as he nuzzled the back of her neck through her hair, unfastening a button here, sliding down a zipper there, until she stood before him, clad in only her bra and panties. Gratefully, he allowed her to guide his hands to her plump breasts. Her need of him was drowning out the thoughts of her horror of a life. That need was becoming almost as ravenous as his own.

He helped her strip off his clothes, the neon light making his pale skin pink. He allowed her long minutes of touching and exploring his body. He gave her the reaction she was longing for. Stripping off her bra and panties, he led her, naked, to the bed. He covered her mouth with fierce kisses that made her breath stutter. He could sense all the things she wanted him to do to her, and he gave her everything. His cool lips touched her, making her body respond in ways she had only imagined. Her pounding heart and singing blood ringing in his ears. Parting her legs, he slipped deep inside her, making her cry out as he took away her virginity. He would be her first and last real lover. He gave her everything she'd ever dreamed of. Teasing her body to the very edge, then pulling back.

Finally, he felt that she was on the edge of orgasm. Fangs sliding down, he bit into her throat, filing his mouth with blood that tasted of bitterness and passion. His hips still thrusting, she cried out as the orgasm washed over her, clutching as his body, pulling it closer as he drank her life. Soon she lay still, heart fluttering, but a contented smile on her lips. As her heart fluttered it’s last beats, he licked her blood from his now warm lips and kissed her softly a final time. Whispering into her ear, he said "I love you and I'm sorry it had to be this way."

With a sigh of happiness, she smiled up at him. "I love you, too. And I forgive you." With a final, shallow breath, she passed beyond the light.

The vampire untangled himself from her dead limbs, carefully composing them into an attitude of slumber. In death, the sadness of a lifetime fell away from her face. In it's place was the happy innocence of a child. Carefully, he licked the wounds on her throat, causing them to seal and vanish. Naked, he sat beside her corpse for a long time, studying her smiling face. Death had given her something she'd never believed she had in life. Beauty.

He thought again of the images he'd seen in her mind. The latest additions to the mental gallery he carried from all his victims. Decades worth of faces flashed before his mind's eye. Committing her face to memory, he was suddenly wracked with dry sobs. For years, he had consoled himself with the thought that he was granting a gift, easing the passing of women that no longer desired life, but realized now that he was the final and ultimate user in each of his victim's lives. That was more than he could bear. He felt like a vessel for all the world's pain. He could do that no more. Looking into that childlike face, he vowed she would be the last one. There had to be a better way.

Taking her into his arms, he rocked her back and forth, weeping silent tears, before tucking her under her covers. "Maybe we've saved each other's souls tonight," he whispered to no one. Brushing her hair with his fingers, he stood and quickly dressed. Leaning over her, he kissed her forehead. Never looking back, he slipped into the night.