Just a piece of short vampire fiction which has been perking in my brain for the last little bit. It's set in Dreamfire's "Colors" universe, with her kind permission. Enjoy!
I always use the line on them. Even if they don't immediately surrender, even if they're naturally resistant, by the time they get over the "oh, please" moment my teeth are on their wrists or their throats. At that point, they're mine. The shock lasts just long enough for me to alter their prana. At that point, the pleasure I give them shorts out the desire to do anything and they open up to my control.
It sounds so mechanistic when I put it that way. Step by step, logical. It pins down the process far too much. Harvesting prana is much more of an art than that.
My Line was the first to realize that the Blessings could actually be used to read minds. Some of the other lines have picked up on it since then - or, more likely, been given the secrets by a traitor to the Line. In any event, it's important to look the part. It makes access to their minds so much easier when I do.
So when I go out into the night, I wear red. I have since... well, it's been a long time. Waistcoats and hats have given way to t-shirts and jeans in the places I like to hunt. Naive young men and women are the same in other ways, though. The ones with genuine street smarts, I leave to those who like to bribe and cajole or overpower their way into the prana. They have a different flavor, one I don't prefer.
No, for me, give me the bravado of the youth or maiden who has never really been challenged in this world, who doesn't know what awaits them out there, who thinks he or she knows all. Those are the ones stupid enough to directly meet my eyes instead of simply watching them to see if I telegraph my next motion. Those are the ones foolish enough to come with me off the beaten path.
Like this sweet young thing. She's twenty, she informed me at the coffee shop. Her colors showed truth, so I know she's of age. And she's not a law enforcement officer, and she's definitely not a prostitute. Not in this part of town. Just a college girl who thinks she has a good grasp on the world. And who makes smartass remarks about someone who would wear a red pair of jeans. Once, it was a red choker or a red blouse. The effect is the same.
She doesn't fear me, because she doesn't think I'm a threat. She thinks I'm lower class, tackier, stupider than she is. And it's so simple to slide into her mind. I have more than enough prana within me to work this simple Blessing. Once there, I can nudge a bit... here... there... not for me the crass spellwork of other Lines. It taints the prana. Just a little bit of a push. Make her willing to talk to me. I'm harmless, after all. Change her mind on a point or two, make her a bit more careless, a bit more open.
A bit more vulnerable.
When I take her outside, it only takes a moment for me to get her to look at me. "Is my eye makeup smeared?" And she looks, and I say the words:
"Look into my eyes. You are getting sleepy."
And her eyes glaze, and her knees buckle, and the prana flows from her to me... and she is mine.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
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