Chapter 1 - Watch

She could’ve floated, of course. But why float when you can sit?

The broadly twisted, aging tree loomed far above the wooden roof, casting a wide shadow along the whole back of the building. The cool night air rustled through the thick array of green leaves, shielding her from view for the most part. It wasn’t difficult to find the perfect perch inside – an almost throne-like seat amongst the inner branches. It gave her an ideal view of the nearest window, and, more importantly, the occupant on the other side of it.

Kain wasn’t quite sure what this occupant’s name was, yet. But then, when were names ever really important? She could rename the girl once back in her lair; she could name her anything in the world she happened to feel like. For now she had a general description, and that was enough.

Small, cute, thin, curvy, pretty – all of Kain’s favourite things flawlessly packed in to one non-suspecting teenager, currently flouncing about on the other side of the glass. She had her flowing, dyed-purple hair half-held up in a ponytail that almost reached the small of her back, a few stray strands snaking over her shoulders from where they’d been missed in the gathering process. During the day Kain had observed the girl only sporting the most immaculate hairdos, but this wasn’t the day. This was just approaching midnight, and the local school’s newest addition to the cheerleading squad had no reason to believe she was being watched. This time Kain had yet to employ her regular frightening, blowing-out-the-candles, rustling-the-curtains, casting-long-shadows-down-the-hallway habits. She would eventually, of course – the only thing sweeter than an innocently unsuspecting girl was an innocently terrified girl, after all – but for now she felt no desire to rush things.

There was something about this particularly catch that felt particularly juicy to Kain, and she had her dead heart set on savoring that taste. 

Now came her favourite part.

The oblivious meal before her had finally made it to the target destination; a large and packed-full closet on the other side of the room. It had taken some time to get there, the girl insisting on “dancing” to her tunelessly jubilant music rather than walking. Not that Kain was complaining; the younglings of this century seemed to often confuse dancing with what Kain’s generation would’ve called strictly-for-the-bedroom-behaviour. But then, Kain was more than a century older than this child, who, by the way, was definitely one of the worst for that semi-unintentionally-erotic-swaying when it came to her “dancing.”

The girl pulled out a thin set of silk pants and draped them over a nearby chair before lifting her school shirt over her head. If Kain still had the need for oxygen her breath would’ve caught at the delicious spectacle before her. Her picks were usually pretty, of course. But few had that true spark of flawlessly natural beauty that only came along a few times a decade. This girl was definitely one of those rare gems. Her soft breasts fell free as she unclipped her bra’s clasp, turning and posing shortly to examine herself in the mirror on the back of her closet door. Kain could see her reflection frowning in the mirror, her pink-tipped fingers lifting her breasts up as she sucked in her breath. It was a needless gesture; she looked absolutely scrumptious before and positively delectable after. Kain smirked as she pictured her own hands cupping those voluptuous mounds, her sharp, long nails scratching down the sides, pinching those cute pink nipples, rubbing them until they grew hard and red with abuse...

Kain licked her lips at the thought, her tongue swiping past her now-protruding fangs. A delicious meal indeed. Now when exactly was she going to taste it...? The girl through the glass was still giving her mirror quite a show, and literally speaking, Kain had all the time in the world... 

With a final pout and a sigh of frustration the girl seemed to give up on her beauty-magazine-achievement-quest, and bent to unzip her jeans. They were tight enough that the exit process was a series of hopping and wiggling, which brought both an amused and ravenous smirk to Kain’s face. The girl’s panties were tiny, black, and nearly transparent, with a little heart on the back. When she bent over to remove her socks it gave Kain the perfect view, the heart a mock-open-invitation. It took all of her strength not to lunge through the glass right then and there.

But Kain had been patient in life, and had only more time in death. The girl pulled on her pajama pants with less trouble than her jeans, partially covering the mouthwatering view. But Kain was easily comforted by the knowledge than when she did choose to bite this girl that sight would be hers any time she wished. Besides, the hot summer night seemed to remove the need for a pajama top, and the girl danced back to her computer to lower the music with her breasts heaving at every movement.

The bed was the next objective. There was something positively sinful about the way the girl’s hips moved to the quieter beat as she walked, and yet the absent look on her face suggested nothing but sunshine and rainbows. Ah, the unintentionally slutty – Kain’s favourite mixed breed. Even the way the girl slipped below her covers, arching her back and biting her lip, was incredibly arousing. Her half-sigh, half-moan of contentment completed the sensual vision. She smiled dreamily up at the teen-idol-poster above her bed before stretching out and snapping her fingers, plunging the room into darkness. It startled Kain for just a moment – every time humans added a new feature to the light bulb it bemused her – the sun’s imitation was such a dreadfully unpleasant lost cause – why all the energy invested in developing it?

It took less than a second for Kain’s eyes to adjust to the light, or lack thereof. Her red pupils could cut through the darkness faster than her fellow bats could screech, and she watched the stilled form before with half-hopes for movement. On the one hand, she did like her pets untouched and inexperienced – all the easier to train them from scratch. On the other hand, watching a pretty girl touch herself was always a delightful midnight matinee. 

But the girl on the other side of the window was breathing heavily in a matter of moments, her bared chest making a tent of the blankets. Kain watched their rise and fall for a bit before slipping out of the tree and into the open air. She was a flying ball of fur and leather in the space between gentle breaths behind her. 

Tonight was a good enough show, but tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow the girl would wake to a bloody warning on her window, and walk home with a bat on her heels. She’d find her lamps unable to ward off the darkness, and her shutters unable to close against the wind. She’d find her mirrors cracked, her clothes torn. She’d put on a brave face at first, betrayed by quivering knees and trembling fingertips. She’d faux-nonchalantly ask her friends about ghost stories and signs, and bite her lip at every mention of vampires. She’d start to absently finger her neck, checking after each session of sleep for the telltale wounds. She’d start with the worry, the discomfort, the fear, and soon she’d run to Kain with tears in her eyes, begging for a way to see through the dark. 

And then, of course, the real fun would begin.