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La Luna

A Short Fantasy Story

It was a pleasure to feast. To hunt under a night sky that condemned him to tear the linen from his body and run freely through a decomposing wood was storybook. A man would forever have desires, and although most men lusted over the blonde at the local inn that had been giving him eyes all night, or really any ladies thighs they could bury their heads between, Isaac fawned for what was really underneath her breasts.

She was utterly captivating. And the way she moved was innocent, and vulnerable. She must have been transparent, as the moon and stars all seemed to radiate through her. When he stopped to look at her, the ambience around him died down quickly, and all he could hear was a gentle humming of the universe, itching for him to attack. However, Isaac felt an arousal he had not before, and it was not one he could define as hunger. She had her eyes closed, unable to see her surroundings, She would not catch him staring. Surely.

He wondered what colour her blood was. Would it be that familiar deep crimson of ordinary beings? Would it be pale like porcelain, like an angel? Or perhaps, maybe Sapphire? How would her voice sound when he sunk his beastly teeth into her shoulders? He imagined it would dance on her tongue, it would be light and it would ring. It would sound like the glistening flutter of a fairy's wings.


He could hear her say his name, but he could not hear her beg for her life, or scream. In fact, all Isaac wanted was for his name to bounce around her mouth and expel from her lungs, and against his cheek. Oh, he could vision her lips on his cheek. The fur that grew there stood on edge at the thought of it. His ears flattened in response. From this distance, her lips appeared soft, and supple. Like a word had never crossed them, they were untouched by venom or cruelty. She had probably never seen anything horrific in her life. Isaac wondered if it would be him to take this virginity from her. He hoped so.

She rolled her head and stretched her arms upwards, lifting her hair up and exposing her breasts. Isaac watched, careful not to make a sound, as his ears stood back up and as his eyes widened. She sighed as she relaxed, exhausting a small whimper as she did so. She could not have been human. Her hair was white, and reflected like moonlight on the river she was sat by. He had only ever tasted human, therefore curious to try this new fruit that had been presented to him.

Isaac pushed his way through the bushes that concealed his large body. His head, hanging low to assert his dominance. She, however, did not move. She was still admiring her false solitude. He was coming into the light now, the reflection that shone through her wispy hair was now interrupted by his shadow. The sudden darkness made her jump. She turned to look at the beast. She was now aware she was not alone.

“Good evening.” The words danced on her tongue just as he thought they would. She began brushing her fingers through her hair, and a smile painted her face as a giggle coated her lips.

Isaac stared down his prey, making sure the only noise he made was a heavy pant. He dared not take another step forward, as he knew it would only result in his excitement killing her far too soon.

She dipped her toes into the water, and slowly, she lowered herself in. Gently stepping through the water. The sharp stones at the bottom didn’t seem to bother her.

“I said good evening, gentle giant. Don’t you know it’s rude to not reply when spoken too by a lady?” She had a point.

“Good evening,” he replied. She smiled.

“Are you not afraid, girl?”

“Should I be? Do you lust for my blood?”

“I lust for blood.” Isaac growled.

“But do you lust for my blood?”

“I lust for you, is that not enough?”

“Lust for blood, lust for me, Separate, are not the same thing.” She smirked. She was by his feet now. Gazing up at him with a longing in her eyes. His fur started to malt.

“I am not gentle.”

“But you approach me in such a way, sir. Am I a fool to think so?”

“A fool is a fool. You are a fool, for more reasons than one” he bared his teeth. Rows and rows of bone daggers fit for cutting through even the toughest of meat.

“Would any fool know that there is a man under all that fur?” She said, in a mocking tone.

As she said this, the fur falling away revealed scuffed, dirty hands where his paws were. He could not kill in his human form, as guilt would surely consume him.

“I am Mona, and you, sir?” She said, blushing at the sky.

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La Luna
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