Flash Fiction About a Vampire and Vampire Hunter

Interrogation With A Vampire

Walking into the stone cell, I expected to see terror in my victim. I had a reputation that no creature to date hadn’t heard of me; none entered my chamber that didn’t aware my arrival with some amount of trepidation. The longer I practiced my craft, the farther my reputation spread, the more the fear in my victims grew, so the slow blinking confidence bordering on boredom threw me. She sat in the stone chair, clad brilliantly in sexy black. She was confident and at ease in the situation, even though she was chained to a stone chair with every kind of torture equipment hanging behind her. As if the chair she found herself in was her throne rather than my altar. Her easygoing, almost demure demeanor did nothing to thaw my heart, though the longer I gazed into her doe eyes, the harder the damn thing pounded. The more I could hear my own blood roaring in my ears as I prepared to spill hers. Her small red smile peeled into a grin, exposing her canines. The reason she was here, her fangs. And though I’ve faced many a vampire and kept myself under complete control the whole time, something about the points on her exposed teeth made y mouth dry out. My heart thundered. Both fear and desire mixed. Instinct told me to run away from her and toward her at the same time. I broke eye contact and smirked, finally understanding the situation. What she was doing to me. I grabbed a blindfold off the wall closest to me and smirked. “If that’s how you want to play it, fine,” I said, putting every ounce of smoothness into my voice that I could muster. “Have it your way. Let’s begin, shall we?” There was no tension in her. Still no sense of fear that I could discern. “I can hardly wait,” she purred. “With the blindfold secured, the vampire sat back and waited for me to begin.