Pain
By Jami JoAnne Russell

She was alone again, crying. The poor little thing sat broken at her feet. A baby bird, an owl, that didn't get it's chance at life. It tried to fly only to come crashing to the earth and break it's tiny, undeveloped neck. The woods had long since been dark. This is when she liked them best. But now they were a place of sadness for her. Her flashlight sitting at her feet, shining on the gruesome sight. Then the voice came. Soft, seductive, so utterly male. Coming out of the darkness as if the darkness itself had been given a voice. "The pain is so great for you, isn't it? It always is for you gentle souls. You carry all the pain of the world in your heart, don't you? You wish you could do something, wave a magic wand, and make everyone happy, don't you? Well, pretty child, answer me." "Y-yes. Yes I do!" She shouted it into the night. "I want to make all wrongs right. I want to stop the suffering. The pain. The loneliness........." Then, the dark had a face as well as a voice. He glided out of the darkness. Pale as moonlight. Hair, eyes, skin, all so pale as to almost not be there. Only his lips gave him any color what so ever. A splash of blood red in the middle of his finely sculpted face. God Himself must had molded that face. "I've watched you, child. I've watched you as you wander these woods. I know all the pain you suffer." He took her hand and rolled up her sleeve. Bruises and burns covered her thin arm. "I know how you want to stop the pain too. I can help end the pain for you." She knew what he was. She didn't even have to see the two small fangs that flashed in his mouth, but she saw them anyway. "I don't want to die." She stared into his pale, icy-blue eyes. He laughed. His very laughter caressed her, seduced her. "No, you will not die, child. You will live. Strong. Beautiful. Everything you ever wanted. Say you'll accept it. Please. I'm so lonely and such a beautiful, gentle soul would be so wonderful." She looked at him and nodded. What had she to lose anyway? Another night of beatings? Of rape? Of pain beyond imagining? Only thing she would truly lose it the sight of the sun. His lips brushed her throat then there was a bright flare of pain as his teeth entered. It was quickly drowned out by utter rapture. Magic. Joy. Endless. Wonderful. Then utter loneliness again as he pulled away. But soon, his wrist, dripping blood, was pressed against her lips and there was joy once again as she drank from him. She heard him moaning, as if he was in pain, but ignored it until he ripped his wrist away from her mouth. "Enough." He rasped. She lifted a hand and wiped the blood from her lips, then looked at her fingers. The blood was so bright against her whiter then paper skin. She licked it off, feeling a gentle thrill go through-out her body. Smiling at her master, her maker, her lover, she stood. As they walked off into the night she stopped, bent down, and picked up the dead owl. She kissed it's tiny head, then dug a small hole and slipped it's tiny body in. When it was covered again, she stuck the flashlight there as it's tome stone. "My gentle soul." Her creator whispered. He took her arm and led her off into the night. "I only pray your soul remains gentle and does not get too hard through the years." She glanced up to the night sky and smiled a cold, hard smile. Only thinking about how the ones who hurt her will soon pay. Along with all the others who had ever hurt anyone. Oh, how they would pay. They would learn the true meaning of pain.

The End