Scent.

the act of darkness

The night was chilling in the streets of Harlem. Most of the streetlights aglow while others flickered or dimmed over the drunken bodies of prostitutes hollering at passing cars. Others, who weren't using desires as a paycheck, were crowded in front of a club where inside a tune of seduction lingered throughout the room where many commit sins they haven't delved into before in their lives. All of them except for one. That one being the man playing the seductive tune on the ivory and ebony keys of his lustrous black piano, watching the many patrons dance to his art as he awaits his turn to be in the crowd so he could apprehend the prey he's had his emerald eyes on since the first set he's played. That's what he called his victims before committing his crimes upon them; prey. To many who would think this is abstract or a sign of mental disruption, this name is all he knows to fit the ones he's apprehended before this beautiful individual.

How can you not call her prey? He thought to himself, watching her thin frame sway as if it were a drifting wind.

She was a decent beauty with her perfectly ragged hair of an auburn hue, brushing over her broad shoulders, skin the color of a lily with a crimson glow with beads of sweat serving as morning dew would on a lily's petals. Her physique was quite thin but the slight curves she beheld were one's that only the loneliest of men could fantasize over, hips inviting others to dance with her while grasping firmly onto them when she's lost herself into his music.

The sinister sounds of his sensual music were fading out as the crowd sensed the impression that it was all ending once hearing his last note being played and he got up from the bench to bow towards the crowd, leaving the stage he once stood on to go into the crowd, meeting the beautiful woman that stood in the crowd, now at the bar. Prince, without missing a beat, swaggered his way to her seat, sitting beside her and ordering a glass of red wine. The woman smiled before taking a sip of her apple martini, her icy blue eyes trained on Prince's clenched jaw, crossing her legs to prevent her core from getting warm. He noticed her eyes on him and proceeded into taking a sip of his wine before speaking.

"Take a picture, sweetie. Maybe it'll last longer." He mutters, turning towards her as she scoffs in what only replaces her momentary loss of words.

"And if I don't?" She sasses, earning a small laugh from Prince.

"Then I guess you either talk to me or stop looking, of course." He chuckles. Her initial reaction is to immediately tell him that he was being rude, but she realized that it would only make him leave her alone and it was obvious that she wanted him to stay.

This woman, now left to choose the right thing to say, started with a simple sigh that, through all the noise, caught his attention.

"My name is Paige. And yours?" She asks, her head resting in the palm of her hand as he kept his eyes trained on the glass of red wine he once drank from a minute ago.

"It's Prince." He answered, then followed it up with a question of his own to start a conversation.

"Do you come here often and dance like that?" Prince asks, earning a chuckle from Paige.

"I don't know. How was I dancing?" She asked with a sly smirk on her face.

Prince puts on a sexy smile and chuckles lowly at her statement, turning to her to examine her frame slowly.

Then answers, "Like you wanna be in my bed." His eyes shimmered a different color but Paige was too busy trying to hide the sudden rise she got from his statement to notice.

•••••

The darkened bedroom of Prince's home was now occupied with himself and his newfound fling, Paige. They were blindly traveling through the room realizing that their hands were too invested in exploring each other rather than look for a source of light. Prince somehow got Paige's dress off quicker than she imagined seeming that it was so dark that she had to use her hands as eyes to see, but it didn't worry her since she felt that he was popular with women so he's had his share of dresses to unzip. They worked their way to a leather couch, Prince grinding himself on top of Paige as her hips grind upward, such friction causing a rise in the crotch of Prince's pants. Her soft moans filled the room and Prince began to kiss down her thin frame, listening closely to her heart beat when her arousal heightened, making her panties drench warmly as he came back up to plant wet kisses on her neck, gently gnawing at the soft skin as he moan in pleasure of her taste.

Prince's lust for her taste heightened as he heard her heart beating faster once his fingers slipped into the wetness between thighs, slowly plunging them into her damp domain in what seemed as musical rhythms.

He liked to have his blood filled with adrenaline whenever he was in the heat of passion, that's he waited for his to get her to the brink as he continued to nibble and kiss at Paige's swan like neck. Paige began to claw at Prince's clothed back as she could feel her thrill ride reach new heights as she cried out into the silent air, feeling herself at the brink of satisfaction.

"Prince...I...I'm gonna cum!" She mews, her loud moans becoming consistent as he bit down harder on her neck.

Her moans slowly turned into yelps as she got closer. His teeth sunk in deeper into her flesh as fangs pierced through her vein. Soon realizing what her fate was as she screamed in satisfaction, she let out a bloodcurdling scream as the bloodsucker drank from her neck until she laid under him cold. The hand that once scratched his back now laying on the floor, dead like the rest of her.

Sliding his slender fingers out of the now dead Paige's body, he sat up beside the corpse until he could decide what to do with it. But for now, he was high off the adrenaline that her blood gave him, the excitement that once rushed through her, now rushing through him. That is until it then rushed away just like Paige and just like Paige, he nothing more than a dead body himself.

He's been this way since his past. It's a story, but another tale to tell later on.

The cracks of dawn came about and a figure was out in a foggy graveyard, holding a body in it's arms as it plops the body into the seven foot dug grave. The body was wrapped up in a throw blanket in the buff as the fugure, Prince, looked down into the grave where Paige's body laid, shaking his head.

"I'd give anything to be where you are right now." He muttered lowly, a hint of longing in his tone. As if living for nearly 200 years without aging a bit was something he didn't love. Although every mortal on this earth would give anything to be in his position, he still felt some sense of displacement, an empty space of some kind.

The sun was his sworn enemy, only the night remained his only friend. Though his heart was beating, he had no real pulse. The warm blood that once coursed through was now at a stand still;He was cold. Just like the body he's now finished burying, patting the pile down to further conceal it.

After the said deed was done, he walked aimlessly into the dark woods, traveling until he finally met home. He had just made it into his home before daylight, slipping into his dark, sunken bed, sound awake and waiting patiently for anything to tell him that night has came.