Death By The Swing Set..
Men are like steel. When they lose their temper, they lose their worth." - Chuck Norris.
It had always made her smile. The way the iridescent, scarlet droplets slid over the throat of her prey, pooling in every crevice of skin before landing on the woodchipped surface of the ground beneath them, spreading and tainting the innocence of the park she was in. Maggie was in a state of unadulterated bliss as the fleshy tip of her tongue dragged through the blood that acted like a liquid cocaine to her; her face contorted with an animalistic lust for /more/ despite the opalescent skin around her mouth being stained with remnants of the man beneath her.
The location was one of meaning to the petite redhead, even though a lot had changed in the last one hundred and sixty eight years, the open fields and days of tyre swings were not the norm anymore; instead metalic eyesores forged from industrial gain contaminated her once cherished playground in a small village in the middle of Cork. It was time for take it back.
She straddled the waist of the muscular corpse of the one hundred and eighty pound man she had slaughtered. In a normal world lacking in her vampiric kin, in an existence where she were human, he could have swatted her away like a fly buzzing incessantly but no, she had delighted in his demise. An eerily melodic hum echoed past her lips and around them, no sound other than the low gusts of wind blowing through the blades of grass and the odd hoot of an owl infecting the scene of inhumane violence since his howls of agony had subsided.
He had put up a good fight, she was reminiscing fondly to herself as she grazed a single digit over the curve of his cheek. She had been hunting, following the scents of the residents that had taken over her village since the famine so many years ago. Her victim had been stumbling out of the local pub, the reek of alcohol spilling from every pore of his sweaty body. She crept behind him, on the prowl for her next fix of the life force flowing through his veins just waiting for her to drink. "What do ye' think ye' doin'?" he had slurred, a finger jabbing over enthusiastically in her direction and her lips curved in a falsely angelic smile, a single dimple creasing her cheek as she pressed her palm flat against the base of his spine. "Just helpin' ye' home." her irish drawl riddled with authentic chastity seemingly putting the drunken swine at ease as her slender arm hooked around him in an attempt to fool passers by and him that she was simply helping him out of harms way. "I don't need ye' feckin' help!" he roared out of anger, trying to get out of her grip. This was enough to aggravate the eternal teenagers fiery temperament and she shifted her grip to his bicep, squeezing firmly until the sound of his humerus cracking filled her ears. He yelped out in pain, it was similar to that of a trespassing wolfhound being shot in the hind after it had been captured hunting a farmer's livestock; to her - it was vital for her pleasure in the upcoming escapades. Maggie didn't need to say a word for him to know that he needed to follow her. The first substantial look he had gotten of her had kept him transfixed. Her eyes weren't any of the normal hues - they were a luminous, flaming crimson a flare of malice in its purest form flickering through her counterfeit attempt at a virtuous gaze. He pursued her like a lapdog followed its master. To him, she was beautiful, an astounding adonis-like form now transforming the idyllic scenery of the Irish countryside into an incarnate of mediocrity. Her movements flowed with a grace he had never seen, he could have never imagined such a flawless divinity.
Maggie knew exactly what she were doing, like a mermaid sat on a pile of rocks luring sailors to their obliteration with their dulcet tones she lead him away with her youthful sex appeal. "Where are ye'?" he mumbled more to himself as he stalked around the worn path to where he had seen her disappear. Maggie smirked from the gnarled tree branch she sat on. /Now/ was when the fun started. "Over here!" a girly giggle falling past her lips as she bounded from branch to branch before landing on the top bar of the swing set, her arms outstretched to either side as she walked the horizontal, metal pole like a trapeze artist on a tightrope. He broke into a run and slammed the heavy set gate back against its hinges, despair wreaking havoc on his every nerve as the instinctive need to save her became primal. "B-be careful!" he stuttered as his heart rose into his throat. Maggie responded with a carnal snarl, revealing the sharpened, blade-like tips of her canines and he flinched, his mind muddled with the fog of her ensnaring beauty and the sudden need to run as fear battled for his survival . The redhead pounced, her ruby tendrils flowing in the wind before resting back against her silk clad spine, her bare hands and knees planted in the woodchipped floor surrounding the swing set. She leant closer, her face close to his, her cold, unnecessary breath against his neck. "You like a drink do ye'?" Her voice was soft, her velvety tones made him feel brave enough to open his eyes, what was she? He was floundering for any thought that made him sound any saner than what he was conclusively coming up with in his mind. He couldn't speak, his body stiffened beneath her in hope that she wouldn't hurt him if he played along. "I'm speaking to you." Maggie growled, her hands grasping fistfuls of his auburn tresses and yanking hard, stray strands coming loose in her grip. "I'm sorry!" he whimpered. Maggie missed the man that had stood up to her earlier, she missed the masculine, alcohol fueled egotism; at least he had had a backbone then. The bridge of her nose scrunched up in unbridled disgust and her eyes narrowed at the weak specimen beneath her. He wasn't bad looking; he was quite strong for a human and his body wasn't grotesque, if anything at first glance he looked like he had recently fallen off the wagon and into drunk - a glimmer of a man that used to work out was still visible if not just a little blurry around the edges. His hair was tousled, a rusty auburn array of slept in mane that suited his stubbled jawline. "You are weak. A weak, sorry excuse for a man, aren't ye'? I would be doing the world a favour by killing ye'. Ye' a waste oxygen." She laughed, he was /nothing/ to her. Nothing but an uninspired meal /she/ wouldn't even feed to a dog but this part was fun, taunting the weak was something she enjoyed to do, it was so easy to make the last specs of hope dwindle from them. They were so easy to /break/. It was deliciously evil and she didn't care, any humanity she had had died long ago when her parents left her to travel to America and away from the famine. It was the circle of life as far as Maggie was concerned, only with a little extra show - she needed to feed and he? Well, he was a drain on the ever growing population of an STD ridden, benefit funded Ireland - he needed to die. Maggie leant back, the slender curve of her behind rested against his flaccid member as her icy palms ripped his cotton button-down open - miniature plastic discs scattering around them. "Pl-please don't kill me. Ye' only a young'in.. The Police.. They'll get ye' ye' know.. I have a family. A daughter.. She can't be much ol-" Maggie cut him off by slicing her manicured, dagger like nail through the flesh that covered his chest and down.. down until she reached his flab coated navel. She tore him open, his organs exposed to the bitter night she was sat in. The lower intestine of the unconscious scum under her wrapped around her hand and she wrenched it out of him with her inhuman strength dangling it over her until blood washed over her alabaster skin. The flat muscle of her tongue dragged firmly against the dripping body part, the taste was otherworldly to the girl that only known poverty and despair in her lifetime as a mortal. The burn of excruciating need was slowly fading from the back of her throat, her hunger diminishing with each lap of her tongue. His heart had long since stopped beating, even before she had taken it out and sunk her teeth into the tough exterior - the veins exploding as she sucked the innards out of it.
Maggie snapped herself out of her daydream, she had lost track of time and the sun was starting to shine on the now tarnished land. It wouldn't be long until dog walkers or a jogger happened across the beastly scene of the macabre display she had left for them to clean up.
She pushed herself to a standing position and dusted off the front of her bloodstained dress, her laughter almost maniacal as she skipped away back to find somewhere else to play or at least somebody else to play with.