Stefan’s Diaries: The Craving Chapter 2

I matte the veins in my face crackle with Power. My fangs came bulge come forth quickly and violently, bruisefully ripping through my gums. Instantly I became the hunting watch again balanced on my toes, fingers flexed, frame to claw. As I take for my way closer to her, all my senses became hitherto more(prenominal) aroused look widened to capture every shadow, nostrils flared to gather in the smells. Even my throw together prickled, ready to detect the slightest change in stress movement, in heat, in the minute of arc pulses that indicated life. Despite my vow, my body was more than ready to slice into the soft, dying mannikin and lap up her essence.The girl was small, but not sickly or dainty. She looked to be about sixteen. Her bosom jerked as she stuggled for breath. Her hair was menacing, with curls highlighted gold in the light of the rising moon. She had been wearing silk flowers and ribbons in her hair, but these, along with her tresses, had pass undone, trai ling out behind her head like sea foam.Her pluck had a dark red slip buoyed by frothy whiteness cotton tulle. Where her petticoats were torn, slashes of scarlet silk showed through, matching the rail line that was seeping from her chest and passel her bodice. i of her doeskin gloves was white, while the other was nearly black with soaked blood, as if she had tried to stanch her wound before shed passed out.Thick, curly lashes fluttered as her eyeball rolled beneath their lids. This was a girl who clung to life, who was fighting as weighed down as she could to stay awake and survive the violence that had befallen her.My ears could easily make out her stubbeat. Despite the girls strength and will, it was slowing, and I could count seconds between severally beat.Thud . . .Thud . . .Thud . . .Thud . . .The rest of the world was silent. It was near me, the moon, and this dying girl. Her breath was coming slower now. She would most likely be dead in mere moments, and not by my ha nds.I ran my saliva over my teeth. I had done my best. I had hunted down a squirrel a squirrel to sate my appetite. I was doing everything I could to resist the lure of my dark side, the hunger that had been slowly destroying me from within. I had refrained from using my Power.But the smell . . .Spicy, rusty, sweet. It make my head spin. It wasnt my fault she had been attacked. It wasnt I who had caused the pool of blood to form virtually her prone body. Just one little sip couldnt blemish. . . . I couldnt hurt her more than someone already had. . . .I shivered, a delicious pain fluttering up my spine and down my body. My muscles flexed and relaxed of their own accord. I similarlyk a step closer, so close that I could reach out and intuitive feeling the red substance.Human blood would do far more than baffle me. It would fill me with warmth and Power. Nothing tasted like human blood, and nothing felt like it. Just a mouthful and I would be grit to the vampire Id been in New Orleans invincible, lightning fast, strong. Id be able to engage humans to do my bidding, Id be able to drink away my ill-doing and embrace my darkness. Id be a real vampire again.In that moment, I forgot everything wherefore I was in New York, what happened in New Orleans, why I left Mystic Falls. Callie, Katherine, Damon . . . All were lost, and I was splicen mindlessly to the source of my agony and ectasy.I knelt down in the grass. My parched lips pull back from my mouth, fangs fully exposed.One lick. One drop. One taste. I necessitate it so badly. And technically, I wouldnt be killing her. Technically, she would die because of someone else. condition streams of blood ebbed and flowed down her chest, pulsing with her heart. I leaned over, my barbarism reaching forward. . . . One of her eyes fluttered open weakly, her thick lashes parting to reveal clear parkland eyes, eyes the color of clover and grass.The same color eyes Callie had.In my last memory of her, Callie was l ying on the ground, dying, in a homogeneous helpless pose. Callie had died of a knife wound in her back. Damon didnt even need the decency to let her defend herself. He stabbed her while she was distracted, telling me how much she love me. And and so, before I could feed her my own blood and save her, Damon threw me excursus and drained her completely. He left her a dry, dead husk and then tried to kill me, too. Had it not been for Lexi, he would have succeeded.With a anguish scream, I pulled my hands back from the girl and pounded the ground. I forced the bloodlust that was in my eyes and cheeks back down to the dark place from which they came.I took a moment longer to compose myself, then pulled the girls bodice aside to view her wound. She had been stabbed with a knife, or some other small and sharp blade. It had been shoved with near correct precision between her breasts and into her rib cage but had missed her heart. It was as though the attacker had wanted her to suffer , had wanted her to slowly bleed out rather than die immediately.The attacker had not left the blade behind, so I placed my teeth against my wrist joint and tore open the skin there. The pain helped me to focus, a good, clean pain compared to that of my fangs coming out.With incredible grounds I pushed my wrist to her mouth and squeezed my fist. I had so little blood to spare this would nearly kill me. I had no idea if it would even work now that I was feeding just on animals.Thump- shell.Pause.Thump-thump.Pause.Her heart continued to slow.Come on, I pleaded, my teeth gritted in pain. Come on.The startle few drops of blood hit her lips. She winced, stirring slightly. Her mouth parted, desperate.With all my strength, I squeezed my wrist, pushing the blood out of my vein and into her mouth. When it finally hit her tongue she almost gagged.Drink, I ordered. It will help. Drink.She turned her head. No, she mumbled.Ignoring her feeble protests, I shoved my wrist against her mouth, fo rcing the blood into her.She moaned, still trying not to swallow. A wind picked up around us, rustling her skirts. An earthworm dug itself deeper into the soft, moist earth, avoiding the cold air of the night.And then she stopped fighting.Her lips closed down on the wound in my wrist, and her soft tongue sought out the source of my blood. She began to suck.Thump-thump.Thumpthump.Thump thump thump.Her hand, the one in the blood-soaked glove, came fluttering up weakly and grasped my arm, trying to draw it closer to her face. She wanted more. I understood her desire all too well, but I had no more to offer.Thats enough, I said, feeling promiscuous myself. I gently disengaged my arm despite her mewling cries. Her heart was beating more regularly now.Who are you? Where do you live? I asked.She whimpered and clung to me.Open your eyes, I ordered.She did, once again revealing her Callie-green eyes.Tell me where you live, I compelled her, the world whirl around me as I used the very last stay drops of my Power.fifth part Avenue, she answered dreamily.I tried not to grow impatient. Where on Fifth Avenue?Seventy-third Street . . . One East Seventy-third Street . . . she whispered.I scooped her up, a perfumed confection of silk and gauze and lace and warm, human flesh. Her curls brushed my face, tingling across my cheek and neck. Her eyes were still closed and she hung limply in my arms. Blood, either hers or mine, dripped down into the dust.I gritted my teeth and began to run.