Deadly Seduction

Two.

A/N: As I've said before Ivy has alot of issues, and in part of this chapter reveals part of her past, and may be desturbing to a few of you. Read at your own risk, and no comments on how this was too much for you to read, I've warned you. Thanks to those of you who read and commented on the first chapter, your support is greatly appreciated :)

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Pain. Paralyzing, burning, pulsing, pain. Washing over me, under me, through me. I can feel the tainted blood charging through my veins. Turning everything to ash in it's path. I scream, but it sounds so far away. Distantly echoing off the walls.

Blood red.

    Visions dance beneath my lids. My daggar, gleaming beautifully, with promises of pain, and death. The sharp edge slices easily, and deeply into the soft skin on his exposed, pale neck. A fountain of blood spurts from the wound. His caulosed hands reach up to the cut, red seeping through his fingers, dripping to the ground, sparkling sweetly across the white linolium. He tries to scream, but all that comes out is a gurgle as he chokes on his own blood.

       His eyes are widened, a tsunami of emotions crashing through them. Shock. Then rage, which still manages to frighten me even though he is slowly dying infront me. Finally they settle on terror, and self-pity. Pleading, begging desprately to help him. I smile at this. The feeling of strength flows through me, power surging in my body. I don't want to loose this feeling, the feeling I get by standing over him and watching him silently beg for mercy. With eyes begging for me to save him. Knowing that he can never hurt me again. His pupils dialate, like black roses blooming against blue ice.

    I lean down, knowing that hearing is the last thing to go before the body dies.

 " I hope you fucking burn in hell you sick son of a bitch." I wisper in his ear and laugh.

       Pale skin.

       I'm cornered, and he's grinnning. The grin of a hunter when they've finnaly captured their prey. I don't like the feeling of being prey. So used to being a huntress. Killing of men like my father. Soon enough, if I keep this up, they'll  all be gone. I search my back under my shirt for the holster that holds my lovely daggar. I grab the hilt, and run my thumb over the cool metal blade, as a lover would. The feeling of power surges through me. This man will die tonight. I think happily, feeling a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

  He's suddenly right infront of me. Pining my arm against the wall, pressing hard against my wrist until I release my hold on the blade. He catches it seconds before it hits the floor. Holding it in his long, white fingers. His smile broadens, and I finnaly see them.

Fangs.

   Glowing blue against the blacklight of the club. Shining with saliva, he licks them. Running the tip of his tounge over their delicate points. A drop of blood apears on his tounge, and is gone in an instant. I blink, certain that I am  hallucinating.

 " Oh their real sweet heart. " He says in a low suductive tone.

My heart pounds in my chest. I can hear it thumping in my ears. I wonder if he can hear it too. He leans closer, rubbing his nose against my neck, breathing in deeply, then exhaling. His warm breath tickling against my skin. He licks me.

" Please don't" I whisper, my voice shaking. I hate my self for sounding so weak.

 I snatch the daggar from his hand and slit my wrist before he realizes what I'm doing. He pulls away shocked, nostrils flaring at the scent of my blood.