Love Sucks

Rotten Seed - Chapter Seven

"Love is the greatest of dreams, yet the worst of nightmares."

William Shakespeare

***

Abigail tipped her head back, exposing a long elongated neck at which his eyes blazed with hunger.

She craved his bite, her fingernails digging into his shoulders at the thought of such pleasurable pain. But he seemed to refuse himself the preference, instead, keeping his eyes closely trained on her own.

He was masked, and so, Abbi realized, was she. The white of his suit matched his mask, made from the silkiest of material. He wore a crisp crimson dress shirt, and in his lapel a black withering rose was symmetrical to her own feathery gown. Her inky hair was pulled up to fit in the nape of her neck while, a smoky mask sat on top of her face, its surface curved with lace.

Abbi's dress curved every inch of her figure in a squeezing intense black, feathers blooming from the bodice, making her resemble a black swan. At her throat pulsed a ruby choker.

Around the two lonely dancers, was a pavilion made from what appeared to be a murky marble with red and white roses spilling over the floors and hanging from vases. Anything outside of the pavilion was foggy and watery, and Abbi's eyes couldn't focus on one single melting image. Not that she wanted to, anyways. His face was much more distracting.

He spun her around in endless circles, his hands demanding her body's full attention as he twirled her. Abbi felt the rush of intimacy in even the slightest brushes of his fingers, and his lips were so close.

Abbi didn't believe she had ever felt such passion in just dancing, but the song was fast and haunting and once in a while she could feel him grip her lower hips.

Just as his ferocious blue eyes came to rest at her mouth, they had stilled and now stood awkwardly in dance position on the outskirts of the pavilion. Abbi breathed heavily, the restraints of her dress hugging her chest at each pant.

An unusual smirk rested on his face as his neck bent down to her level. Abbi could smell every aspect of him, the sharp cologne, a metallic trace she couldn't place, and the pressing scent of just Nathaniel.

"If I told you I loved you, I would have to kill you." His lips moved against her ear as suddenly his hands tightened on her waist. "But you don't want that to happen, do you?"

Abbi shook her head fast.

He laughed loudly, disrupting the sensual peace. "Too bad," He paused, "Because I love you, Abigail. I love you so much." In a movement as quick as lightning, his fingers gripped her throat.

With a rueful smile, Nathaniel strained her neck, watching her eyes scream for him to stop, until it snapped. He let Abbi slump to the ground as the feathers of her dress reined around two silhouettes. One a vampire, and the other a dead girl, far too gone for anything to save her ...

Abbi's eyes flew open but she didn't move, or scream, or make any kind of thrashing like she normally would.

Her heartbeat was erratic, and her fingers shook violently to the point where it was hard to even pull herself up from the blankets. The room was empty. No sign of Nathaniel, or anyone else for that matter, not like she wanted to see him anyways.

The nightmare haunted her very existence, made her feel afraid and tiny. A feeling that Abbi hated, but was unavoidable at this point. She was terrified.

She had assumed that her life would end when Nathaniel finally sucked her dry. At least then it would have been painless, in fact, her death would have happened in the midst of bliss. But now the idea of dying in a way so horrific and terrible was now planted in her head. Like a rotten seed bent on spreading brown weeds.