The Hunt

In the broad daylight, she pulled up her window. The sun light pierced through her pale skin. 

She let the sun do the burn on her forearm. Masochist, was she? Oh, may be! But the burns did for her what drugs do for the human beings. Relieve her of the mental pain by giving her physical pain. 

It was going to be a hunt night. She needed enough drive.

The burning smell of the flesh alarmed him in the lobby. He came running, pulled her off the window and shut it tight.

He had a goblet in his hand, filled with the red liquid that drove their kind. 

She smirked at the glance of the goblet, and he, at her burnt skin. 

The liquid was poured on the burn and it faded away.

___________________________________________________________________________

There they were. Scrutinizing every one in their vicinity to pick the best, healthiest option with a bottle of beer in their hands, not drinking. Trying to camouflage in the crowd, to not get noticed.

He spotted the hunt. She walked towards him.

'My apartment or yours?' she uttered just in time after the essential formal exchanges. The hunt smiled and said, mine. She made a gesture to her accomplice. He followed them as they moved out of the banquet.

The window panes of the car were down, 'the cold wind is such a turn on', she said only to spot a sneer on her target's face. He pulled the car over near a meadow. They got out of the vehicle. The breeze was playing its part. 

The target approached her, she bent to let him kiss her as she saw from the corner of her eye, her accomplice pull the car in a shady spot.

She was getting ready, impulsed by the aroma of flesh, the accomplice moving towards in silent steps, with a thud, she fell on the ground. To see claws, real claws on the hands of her prey.

The accomplice just froze where he was.

They had started from home this evening to get a hunt. Little did they know, they will be the hunt tonight.