The Birth of Xaylen

She had watched him from afar for years; the way he moved, the way he carried himself, taking to memorizing every detail of his face, the tone of his voice. As devoid of emotion as she was said to be, she couldn't help but love this beautiful male in a sadistic way. She had come to know the very routine of his daily life, following him silently only when the absence of sun permitted it. But tonight would be different, tonight she would no longer hide; sneering at the thought, and why should she hide? Men all around feared her and those who didn't fear her simply didn't know her or know of her. She had power and she thrived on it - finally using it to make her move on him.
It was the event of the year, the Grand Art Gallery opening. It was rumoured that even the Tzar would show up, but it was doubtful; she didn't want that any ways. The crowds were beginning to gather as the sky turned to twilight and guards were posted at each entrance to ensure the safety of the guests - but what good would they do against a creature of the night?
Ruby red lips curled into a smile from the shadows as she watched him move through the throng of people. He was to be an honoured guest this night, his painted portraits becoming well known throughout the country. The paintings held such beauty, they said, they looked to be alive with a rainbow of emotions that everyone could relate to. The poor artist was even known to bring people to tears with his work. Little did he know, because of his beautiful works, he was about to fall prey to the night. The shadow caressed smile slipped higher was she saw he was alone, his wife and child must be at home, but for what reasons? She didn't know and she didn't care to find out - he was alone and all the better.
Just in front of the entrance, the man paused in his stride with arms tucked behind his back, hands clasped together. A twitch of her lips and he seemed to sense something, something of the unusual. Oh, he was beautiful to her and the purrrrrrrrrr that rolled from her throat was the only way she could express it. But it gave her away, in that instance he sensed the rolling purr and so his head turned, the dark hair the hung in front of his eyes swaying slightly with the movement. And in that second, a dark gaze meet her even darker gaze before she flicked out of sight and with furrowed brows, as if in confused, he leveled his gaze to the door and passed through them, into the great hall.
The night was filled with food and murmurs of guests, mulling over the pieces of art that hung about the various walls in the new gallery. Honoured guest or no honoured guest, he was finding himself becoming bored with these people, who seemed to hide themselves behind overly fancy clothes, perfume and make-up. He longed to be home again, to crawl into bed beside his loving wife after kissing his daughter goodnight. He longed for the simple things that his portraits would not portray, but social standing demanded he be here this night. If he only knew what fate was holding for him, he would have decided to screw over social standing for those simple things he so adored.
That twist of a smile continued to play upon ruby lips as she danced among the shadows, watching his every move, the way he held himself was delicious, the way he avoided boring conversations with those of the elite turned in her on in an odd way, she wanted him and she wanted him now. But she waited, seemingly unnoticed, despite those who glanced her way, having thought they caught a glimpse of crimson clothing. She waited until he was...alone.
He held a goblet in his hand, filled with red wine that he sipped occasionally as his beautifully dark eyes shifting from boring person to boring person who drooled and ogled over his paintings. A tap on the shoulder caught his attention, having thought he was standing along in the corner. Turning, he only caught a glimpse of pale fingers that slipped from his shoulder and back into the shadows from where they seem to have come. His back stiffened at the sight and after a pause, he peered closer - perhaps it was just his imagination and in another moment's pause, he quickly thought over how many drinks he had this night - only a couple. But as he peered closer, there was a flickering image within his gaze, of a fair skinned maiden who's hair floated about her features as if carried by the wind, raven dark with curls that bounced and stirred. Adorning the slight frame was a small, red dress that could easily be mistaken for the colour of blood, thin straps barely clung to bare shoulders, the fabric slipping down into a V-shape that dipped down further between the sweet valley of breasts. But it was her face that caught his breath, so fine, so delicate, the dark eyes and hair providing a startling contrast with the pair skin - she seemed to be a painting come to life, an angelic figure shrouded in a shadow's caress.
Angelic though she seemed to be, the image only lasted a second and within the blink of an eye, a slender hand was about his throat, jerking him violently within that shadows that immediately clung to him as if they were alive, leaving his goblet to clank against the floor, wine spilling and spreading about the wood as if it were blood itself - but it all went unnoticed as the dim conversation of the boring people rose a tad higher. The shadows latched onto his body, clinging in an unwelcome caress that made him feel as though he were suffocating and that delicate face that he had fallen in love with just a second ago as now just inches from his, perfectly curved ruby lips parted in a rolling purr that sent his body shivering and his manhood springing to attention. The cold wall was pressed against his back as the fingers about his throat tightened their grip, impossibly tight. Dark eyes gleamed with something that was deemed more dangerous than lust and rarely seen by few as a tongue slipped out to trace over his soft lips - a tongue that was not his own, but belonged to this creature that now held him within her grip - making him weak at the knees with utterly simple pleasure.
"Ah, my little artist, at last we meet..." Her voice rolled from her lips, to touch his, echoing through the shadows to spread over his body - everything that could be caressed, was and it brought him closer and closer to the edge of something that made him sweat with aching.
His mind was whirl, he couldn't think straight, couldn't see straight except for the creature in front of him, though there wasn't much else to see as he now seemed to be in a place where only shadows existed. Hands rose to grip at her frail wrist, to grasp on something, even if it didn't seem to be wholly real. He could feel his dark hair beginning to stick to his forehead with sweat as he blinked once...twice, before even attempting to use his voice.
"I... How... Who... Are you?" A broken sentence, but it got the question across to the small creature that stood in front of him and held him within such a grasp, it was indescribable.
"Oh, Xxxxxaylen..." Each and every word rolled from her lips in a soft, lust-filled whisper, caressing his ears ever so gently. And a small step forward on bare feet brought her body close enough to press firmly against his, sending his mind on fire he was forced to draw in a breath with a hiss and then release slowly while he awaited for her reply. "I am here to release you from your mortal grasp, to make you even more beautiful beyond your imagination..." A pause as her free hand dipped down to pry his fingers from around her wrist, bringing the tip of one finger to be pressed against her lips before it slipped inside her mouth to be pricked on something that was sharper than a human tooth. He could do nothing but gasp, his back arching just slightly as the slight trickle of blood fall onto her tongue to be savoured and swallowed down in delight, causing a small moan to rise up from her throat as the pleasure spread in waves throughout his entire body - he was becoming dizzy. The next words that slipped beyond her lips and his finger had a huskier undertone that only added to the lust, "I am the one to give you the gift to be able to paint and create throughout eternity." But the words that followed after fell onto deaf ears as he gave into the pleasure, his finger slipping from between her lips as her arm came to curl about his waist to keep him from losing his footing completely, his knees having grown so weak with pleasure. "And in return, you will be mine, Xaylen..."
He barely noticed as his throat was released from the thin grasped, only to be replaced by her lips, caressing along his skin, nibbling on his flesh until she came to the side of his neck, pausing over the pulsing vein which filled her every desire. She lived for the hunt and this was her climax. With a hiss, fangs extended and grazed over the soft, wanting skin, causing goosebumps to rise and another gasp to slip from his lips. But within a moment's pause, he yelled in pain as those delicate fangs pierced the soft flesh and sank into the living giving vein that continued to pump away as if nothing was out of the normal. Though the yell was drowned out by the shadows that quickly released their hold as he fell into weak moans. Both their bodies arched against one another as her frail form shivered against his, flowing with climax after climax as she began to drink down his mortal blood in gulps. They shared wave after wave of pure, uninterrupted pleasure as his life was continually drained from him until finally his knees gave completely and she was no longer able to hold him up and together they fell to the floor without her fangs leaving the warmth of his flesh.
What lasted for an eternity ended in mere seconds, his body laying lifeless on the cold floor as she finally withdrew her fangs and licked her lips clean of his thick, delicious vitea. Her chest heaved as if she had a heart, it would surely be pounding. As she leaned over him, his dark eyes stared back up into hers, nearly lifeless though there was still a soul in there somewhere and she sang to him to keep his senses alive.
"Oh, my little artist...come back to me...come back to your Kamilla..."
Crimson still stained her teeth and fangs as she lifted her wrist to pierce her own flesh in front of his watching eyes and her voice having dropped down into an eerie hum, the slit wrist was pressed against his chilling lips, the bloodflow being forced into his mouth and down his throat to fill his body once more. His back arched as hands instinctively went to the wrist that fed him, holding steady as without any mortal thought he drank...and drank until he could drink no more. He drank, not from pleasure, but from the need to survive and the hunger that steadily rose up inside him, a hunger that he was most unfamiliar with but would soon become his life. A smaller, pale hand brushed back the hair that dangled in front of his eyes, brushing back the locks away from his forehead over and over again as she continued hum in her own eerie way. Only when she was sure he drank enough and would live to see the coming of another night did she pull her wrist away and close the wound with a touch of her tongue, but the poor man was exhausted by now, having died and been revived all within the same minute, he slept.