Angel

He comes to me in darkness, his ebony hair shining in the moonlight, pale skin glowing from the light streaming through my open curtains. Slipping into the darker abscesses of my room he makes no sound; his eyes burn, awakening my senses and rousing me from the deepest of sleeps. He is a Hunter; the enticing perfume of him wafting to me from across the room easily confirms that. I shiver, shifting towards the wall. The Hunter “disease” can only be spread to a person of the opposite sex, in this case me, it’s obvious why he’s here. I’ve heard stories about girls changed into Hunters that make my ears burn just thinking about them. The process is supposedly very erotic, until the pain starts.

The Hunter shifts in the shadows, aroused by my fear, and his eyes begin to glow a hellish red. A whimper escapes me and I press against the wall and wrapping my covers tightly around me. In all the stories, their eyes glowed red when they were ready to … start. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself not to cry out; silent tears dribbling down my face and soaking the bedspread. My ears strain to catch the slight sounds as he steps towards me; my heart is throbbing somewhere in my stomach. The delicious perfume gets stronger, grabbing me, drowning me in an ecstasy of scent. All thoughts are washed out of my head; a warm glow starts in my chest making me gasp, then spreads to my fingers and toes.

I open my eyes; I had stopped crying what seems like ages ago. I sit up, letting the covers slide off, and face the godlike figure standing two feet away smiling at me. The smile makes him so beautiful that I can’t help but smile back, a welcoming smile. He steps toward me and I forget everything except his face and the warmth spreading through me.

Through the warm haze I hear him speak, he has the most beautiful accent, but I can’t seem to place it. A foggy thought drifts through my mind, something about his accent and teeth… but it is gone in the next second. I try to focus as he speaks again, and this time his words break through the warm fog in my head.

“…you may call me Fang.”I wonder vaguely if that’s a nickname, there’s no way it could be his real name. “I would love to tell you my real name my dear,” it’s as though he’s read my mind, “but I seem to have forgotten it. Time will do that you know.” He smiles again and this time the moonlight glances off his sharp pointed teeth.

The fog in my mind lifts fully for a moment and I gasp, shifting back towards the wall. But the gasp fills my nose with his sweet perfume and I stop; lulled back into stillness.

“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes, he sits on the edge of my bed, his face inches from mine. The long black trench that he wore lies crumpled on the floor, his double swords lying neatly on top. I don’t remember him taking them off. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is low and soft, seductive. “I want to be with you; forever.”

The perfume emanating from him is so sweet and heady that I almost swoon. My heart is beating rapidly, and my breathing is so shallow that swooning seems even more likely. He caresses my face, setting shivers crawling up and down my spine.

“Come with me, into eternity.” He breathes into my ear, and then his lips are on mine for the briefest of seconds. For such a small kiss, it’s powerful enough to make me melt. I fall into his arms, clutching at his white linen shirt and feeling the throbbing heat come off his body in waves. He breathes in deeply; drinking in my scent, then stiffens slightly, listening. I peek over his shoulder at my clock, its little numbers glowing in the darkness; green for his red. Three a.m. I hear a door slam.

“That’s my father,” I whisper, panic driving off the fog.

I feel his laugh more than hear it, “I take he doesn’t like my kind.” He gently releases my panic-clenched fingers from his shirt.

“He’s a cop, he’ll kill you if he finds us.” I look up at him frantically. I don’t tell him that my father hates “cleaning up” after a Hunter job.

Fang’s smile fades at my serious tone; I know what I said was true, and so does he. His face takes on a more serious expression and he stands up, retrieving his coat and swords from the floor. “I’ll make sure that he doesn’t.” he tosses me one of my small bags. “Pack a few things, quietly, we’re leaving.”