Awakening

He slept the whole night and day away as would only be natural to one now belonging to the undead. He slept until the next coming of night, he slept until he was able to wake to the rising moon, the pale light slithering across the floor, across silken bed sheets to caress his flesh in an odd, cool touch. As dark eyes open to slits, he became only aware of that unnatural caress that suddenly felt too real. The moon was not something to be felt, not something to be longed for and loved, the moon was suppose to be something that hung in the sky out of any mortal's reach, but now.... Now it seemed entirely like a lost lover come back to reclaim possession of a forgotten body. He was not aware, however, of the silken sheets that were tangled about his naked body. Nor was he aware that the bed he lay in was not his own, was something he had never seen before and was something where unimaginable sin took place. He was not aware of his own paling flesh, as white as the moon and just as eerie, cold as if he were dead.
Only the moon herself bore witness to the widening of his eyes as a voice interrupted the sinful silence, a voice filled with delightful lust, a dreaded longing - nothing good would ever come from that voice.
"Wake, Xaylen... Wake to your new life..."
Having thought this already a nightmare, he would gladly awaken. Awaken to the sight of his beautiful wife, curled up beside him and snuggled under the covers as the streams of sunlight crept in through the window to touch her skin with a warm, welcoming caress. It was little moments like that which he treasured, little moments that will forever be burned into his memory, but if he only knew.... If he only knew he was already awake.
The moon, glowing in all her glory, rose higher still, filling the entire height of the window his gaze was directed towards. The creature that spoke again, spoke in that lustfilled power stir something within him, something he was unfamiliar with and didn't all together like, it made the eerie glowing moon come to life, now more like a mother figure looming overhead in silent guard.
"Wake, my Xaylen...awaken now..."
His eyes were open, it was his mind which refused to accept this awful nightmare. Deep in his very being, he knew... He knew those memories of his wife were going to be just that for the rest of his nights, just memories, little treasured memories that flew across his vision all at once, in a silent, painful blur. His gaze widened further... Memories of his daughter, shared moments with his family in his simple life, why did they feel so out of reach? Why did they seem suddenly so foreign? like he had only ever looked in through a window into a life that was never his own. But it was his own and those memories were his and not someone else's, it was the stirring within that felt unfamiliar, that seemed to be the seed of evil, the core of sin.
"Xaylen..." to interrupt those thoughts, those memories, a slender pale finger was drawn across his parched lips, leaving a trail of blood - it quicken in his breathing in a manner he did not like and wished not to experience, but things were acting without his mind's control and his tongue did slip out and trace along that thin line of blood. Blood? Yes, it was metallic and thick like the blood he has seen all his life, but there was something more. It was...delicious. It was thick against his tongue and suffocating against his lips - it left a hunger and a craving for more. In all his life, he had never tasted anything as sweet and refreshing, and...orgasmic. As he took another lick of his lips, that little bit of blood seemed to spread through his entire body, it made his flesh tingle and it was then he became aware of the silken sheets tangled about his limbs and body. But he dare not move, it was though if there was a single movement, everything would be unbearable and from fingertips to toes, everything would just explode with pleasure and...life.
"More..." he croaked, there were no more blood upon his lips, though his tongue kept licking, in hopes of suddenly finding more, as soon as that new feeling of orgasmic life had entered his body, it had begun to fade, to dwindle away as a fire does if it's not kept and taken care of.
But he wish was granted and instead of a single finger, there was a pale, slender wrist placed against his drying lips. Immediately there was an instinct to bite, but as he had not the teeth yet, there was already a wound opened for him and he drank, even as the blood spilled about his lips and chin, to feel hot against his cold skin, he drank as a babe would drink from a mother's breasts. He could feel the path of the blood, the way the heated thick liquid slid down his throat to become mixed with his own blood and travel through limbs, fingertips, coursing down to his very toes. Every part of his body became warm and started to tingle again, his groin rising instantly as if he were a virgin having caught a glimpse of his first naked female. He was in a state of ecstasy and so he drank.
Only when the live giving wrist was pulled away did he open his eyes again - unknown to him, they were filled with something more than mortal life, something more animalistic that he would have feared if he were to look into them. Now, instead of the moon filled window, he was faced with the angelic vision from before, the eerie glow from the unnatural being in the sky now framed the crown of this angel, creating a sinful halo of soft blue. Soft, black curls danced and bounced with each movement to brush against his face, causing shivers to course down through his body in after orgasmic bliss. Rub lips tipped upwards in a gentle smile as the beauty gazed down at him for long moments before her mouth sought to cover his own blood covered lips. But the sudden rush of a moment must of he startled him, for he jerked away from the seeking lips in an attempt to scramble to his knees and push himself from the bed. He had forgotten about the silken sheets still tangled about his limps and he became even more tangled in them as he tumbled backwards off the edge of he bed with a half-choked yell.
It was as if this nightmare came crashing into his conscious with full force, knocking him bodily as the sinful angel crept around the bed to stand before him again and he jerked himself back against the wall with a thud, limbs and body shaking with shock and fear. The dark locks that hung in front of his eyes trembled with each jerky movement as he stared up at her for what seemed like an eternity and as she took one small step towards him, his hands flew up in front of his face with a shriek.
"Don't touch me!"
"Oh, Xaylen..."
But before the silky voice could fill his ears with any more corrupted words, he noticed the blood - the blood that still stuck against his lips, chin and neck and he just screamed in utter horror. The nightmare was full blown. What had brought him something beyond an orgasm before now felt like death itself, death that clung to his pale skin, which seemed to inch into his very skin. It felt like he was being invaded - invaded and raped by an outside forced that now clung to his fingers and hands as he tried to rid himself of it. He couldn't stop screaming even as she took a hold of his wrists and held them apart to allow for her lips to sooth and caress over his skin, ridding him of that which wanted to suffocate him in his mind. She lapped at her own spilled blood eagerly until not a drop of it remained and he was forced to calm down, at least to stop screaming. He felt barren and exhausted as he did calm down enough to level his eyes onto her again, onto those dark shining eyes and the way her lips turned upwards in a graceful smile. His jerky movements stopped and the back of his head hit the wall he was leaning against. Staring, he was simply unable to comprehend. This was a nightmare; he just didn't know how to wake from it.
Her slender hands slid from his wrists to caress across his cheeks, cooing gently in soft murmurs.
"My Xaylen...my beautiful artist..."
His mind screamed against the words she was murmuring, but like in a dream he wasn't able to move away from her, nor was he able to yell the words he wanted, his actions seemed entirely out of his control. Things started happening in clips and pieces, making him feel all the more disjointed and though he didn't move from his position against the wall, he found her milky white legs wrapped about his naked waist. Her silk dress, red from last night, billowed and then pooled around them as she settled herself on top, over his constantly erect sex. There was nothing intimate about this act, the way he felt trapped, suffocated and despite the way her breasts, nipples straining against the thin fabric of her dress, he felt disgusted. His thoughts and actions contradicted each other, he wanted every goddamn each of her, to devour her sweet white flesh and make it wholly his. To rape her over and over again, chained and shackled to the bed, but he wanted to throw up all in the same desire.
The way she moved was beautiful, an art form in itself. Her back arched as her hips squirmed and he was forced to buck his own hips up against hers and grind, pushing deeper and harder than thought imaginable. And the dress, that silk red dress, moved as if it were its own being, caressed and slithered against his thighs, waist, stomach and chest, a million different fingers working as one to fondle and tease flesh. There was no escaping it, no escaping the climax that gripped him and held him prisoner, it shot through his body and left no inch untouched. He was lost in the depths of pleasure, as was she. Her head was thrown back against the ever rising light from the moon, sending curls to bounce violently against her back. How she looked the perfect animal, the way her back arched and her fingers dug into the flesh of his bared chest, mouth agape with a choked scream of pleasure, delicate fangs bared to the air and eerie glow that filled the room.
As soon as it happened, it was over again, leaving him to feel empty and drained. During this nightmare, where he had experienced so much in such a short time, he fell asleep again, leave him at her disposal.