NOTE FROM THANTASY:
Very shortly after Pixie and I made contact, she sent me this lovely story that she had written just for me! Of course, it made my necrobabe heart go pitty-pat.
If you've ever wondered what kind of "love letters" necrobabes exchange,
have a look.
Your first glimpse of me is disbelief. A small creature, shrouded in a black cloak. The fabric almost gleams in the moonlight. At twenty feet you can see my green eyes watching. Only a glimpse of my pale face do I allow you see.
As I walk towards you, I brush back the hood of my cloak. Revealing my features to you, you almost gasp at my pallor, accented by the purple black lips and dark lashes, the cerrulean green eyes that lack any emotion.
I can hear your thoughts, they bring the slightest smile to my face. "........she............she's not real.......they're only in books and movies........" As I step closer I loose the drawstring on my cloak, letting it drape loosely from my shoulders. Alabaster legs almost glow in the moonlight. From my boot tops to the hem of my abbreviated silk dress, they flash, one foot directly in front of the other.
At five feet I stop, reading you. I've watched you before from the shadows, you never knew I was there. Once I almost touched you. Remember the night you thought you locked your keys in the car? Fumbling through your purse, cursing to yourself? I picked up your keys from the grass by the sidewalk and put them back in your purse. Except for maybe feeling a cool breeze, you had no idea. Only curious as to why it took so long to find them.
You notice the small cross dangling from the fine chain around my neck. Playfully, I mimic you as you reach to your throat. "Yes, pretty, it's yours, I just took it from you. And no, I have no fear of it." I continue to mimic you, every move, exactly when and how you do it. A small mirror image in black and white.
I know what you're feeling. The combination of fear, curiousity of the unknown. Maybe a little bit aroused, pretty? I know you are, just as I was on a warm July night in 17 and 57. The first night I saw Him.
Just a lowly serving girl sent for a bucket of water. He stepped from the shadows and changed me forever.
Since, in those almost two hundred and fifty years, I've given my gift only three times. Twice for my own selfish reasons. The last, in August 1917, to cheat French bootlickers of a Javanese dancer. She was just too delicious not to have on our beautiful earth, within my reach. She performed her most unforgettable perfomance the very next day, then joined me that night.
Granted, I feed frequently, to sustain only, not to create others like me. The fewer of us that exist the better, all of us agree on that. Why draw attention?
I extend my right hand, palm down, I will you to take it and you do. I gently squeeze your fingers, smiling for the first time. I can feel you tense when you see the canine incisors. I can feel your temperature rise, your heart begin to beat faster. I know your nipples are perked, your fire is lit. It's the same reaction in everyone. How many orgasms have I brought forth? How many explosive erections have I caused? The most intense my victims have ever known, their reward for my continuing existense.
Now my pretty one, I lust for your lifeblood. Gently pulling you toward me, your head instinctively tilts toward your right shoulder. My arms slide around you, left hand at the back of your head, right hand slides down your back. I gently squeeze your left buttock and you press yourself to me.
As my incisors punch through your skin, I feel your shudder. The taste of your warm blood fills my mouth, exciting us both. As you swoon, your life spurts into my mouth. Your soft moan excites me even more. I ease you back onto the ground, I can hear your heart slowing, I can't help but put my hand to your breast. I want to feel it along with your heaving breasts. I let my fingertips caress your hard nipples, it's almost time.
As I hear the gurgle in your throat, I withdraw my teeth. Licking away a small trace of blood on your throat, I make my decision. I want to keep you. As I look upon your almost lifeless body, I bite into my wrist. Our blood, mixed, slowly drips forth. I hold it over your open mouth and let it drip in, slowly, as I have no pulse. Within minutes your eyes flash open. Smiling down, I whisper, "Calm, my pretty, you're as I am now."