Blood Lust

He felt his blood pressure rise at the sight. The red liquid pumping through his veins...again and again. He felt the slight dizziness that accompanied it and his sight blurred at the edges while his eyes were focused on only one thing in front of him. He watched the way she walked away from him towards the elevator not fast but determined; her hips swaying slightly from side to side while her high-heels caused a harsh sound on the marble floor. His eyes lingering on those long killer legs of hers, then wandering up to the hem of the black leather mini-skirt over her behind and finally onto her hips getting into an almost hypnotic state by following their movement from side to side. He knew that if she turned around now she would be seeing him standing there in the hall; his darkened gaze staring back at her, leering and indicating his half conscious state.

During those seconds where he felt the blood boil he always slightly lost his grip on reality; his mind wandering off to a place where he could live out his fantasies. A place where he could give in to his desires. There he saw, before his inner eye, what he could do to her. What he would do to her. How it would feel to touch those legs, the soft skin of her thigh, the curve of her hips and her slim waist. The feeling of her dark raven-like hair around his fingers, in his tight grip while he would wrench her head back roughly in order to expose her neck. A neck that looked like it was cut out off marble...just like the rest of her. A perfect statue that challenged him to be broken. Challenged him to destroy that perfect-like picture of her flawless white skin.

He felt his guts twitch with excitement as he imagined a fine line getting cut into the beauty that was her face. Just a slight scratch on her cheek. Seeing the dark red liquid forming drops at the end of the line, running down to her beautifully chiselled chin where they would be dripping over the edge. He licked his lips at the thought of catching those drops with his tongue, tasting her. Tasting her blood...his blood...their blood.

During those few seconds in which the trance-like state enwrapped him he relished in the feeling of admiring her predatory attitude and of wanting to break and defeat exactly that. He could feel the vein in his head throbbing, could hear the blood rushing in his ear. He could feel it pulsing in his very core, his breath quickening while he inhaled deeply through his nose, still detecting the sweet musky scent of hers that hung in the air. He wondered how she would smell without her perfume, the scent of only her skin. Imagined it covered in sweat; from fear or excitement, it didn't really matter to him. Preferably both. He imagined his hand feeling the warmth of her inner thigh, turning and travelling further up. He had to close his eyes and his heart skipped a beat with excitement at the mere thought of what would await him there. He opened them again watching her angry stiletto-staccato moving closer to the elevator door. A twisted smile tucked at the corner of his lips while he visualized her lying under him, panting...melting into him. They had been one before, and they would be one again. They were simply meant to be like that. It was just a matter of time.

He saw her with sweat glistening form, moving under him, arching her back, throwing back her head gasping for air. He wondered if she would beg him to stop. It was not a behaviour anybody would associate with her. It seemed almost unnatural. Her strong, cold demeanour challenging anyone who would not accept her superiority. But then again he had never backed down to a challenge; and a challenge she was. He wondered what it would take to make her flinch and beg. He wanted to break her, to make her his. To see what her face would look like fear and tear stained. To hear her muffled screams, to make her whimper and moan at the same time. He wanted to taste the salt of her sweat and savour the metallic flavour that was her blood...their blood. All of their body liquids mixing together before he would witness her last breath and the look of horror in her eyes that he knew would accompany it. It was simple: he wanted her everything. He wanted it all.

His heart was pumping faster, the blood in his veins moving at a faster pace...faster and faster flowing through his body. The heat he felt building up inside threatened to consume him and there was an urge rising within him which he had not felt in quite a while. He could feel the beast rattling in its cage, roaring and demanding to be freed and fed.

Being snapped out of his dazed state by the elevator doors suddenly shutting behind his twin he noticed that he had been in this half-conscious state for longer than expected. He had stared at her the whole time while she was walking towards that elevator with people passing by hurrying to their offices. His need seemed to be bigger than he had thought. He had to do something about this soon. The beast needed to be fed before it lost control in a most undesirable situation. And if he wanted to get it all he would have to be cautious and in possession of a razor-sharp mind.

He took a deep breath to control his posture, to clear his thoughts and to calm down the raging river his blood flow had become. His good hand unconsciously moving up to his neck, touching the spot where her hand had been, choking him mere seconds before, in one of their infamous ‘sibling-rivalry-confrontations' like that shrink called it. He liked to think of it more of a very enticing and hortative pastime...a power game maybe. The choking had not been that strong to be of any real danger, but strong enough to make it difficult for him to breathe comfortably. She had found out about one of his many attempts to divert her from the hunt for that breathing property of the Centre with some false lead on the rat. Of course he had expected her to find out about it. But it was just way too much fun to send her on a false goose chase and get her all worked up about it which always ended in some sort of an amusing confrontation between them. This time she had been really angry, with a lack of patience for his attempt to play innocent that was unusual, even for her. Her hand had been immediately on his neck stopping him dead in his Sis-I-have-no-idea-what-you-are-talking-about speech. She had thrown some snide comment in his face, but he had not even heard her. He had just watched the way her lips parted and moved while forming some undoubtedly vicious words; had relished in the feeling of her unexpectedly warm hand making contact with his own skin.. Those were the battles that he enjoyed the most with his twin. The ones that included a physical confrontation. Where her touch could leave a burning sensation on his skin and cause his blood to boil.

A dark smile formed on his lips while he turned around and headed towards his office. The beast would get the feast it demanded. Soon. With the tingling sensation that the touch of his sister's hand had left on his neck still lingering, he took out his cell phone and dialled a number. "It's me. How would you like to accompany me on a camping trip this weekend Yoojin?"

-The End-