|The Blood Bather|
Dr. Elzbeta Nadasdy was not having a good day. She was weak and getting weaker. It had been some time since she had entertained in the city and it was beginning to show. Her skin was dry and her hair was beginning to loose its lustre. Of course she still looked immaculate but still... she could notice a change. She hoisted the expensive purse on her shoulder, made heavy by its liquid cargo, and made her way to the library, carrying not books but something far more precious.
After teaching her Victorian studies class Elzbeta crossed the university campus quickly, careful to stay out the late summer sun when she could. Goddamn it, it should be overcast - or better yet - raining at this time of year. Each female she passed seemed to be more beautiful and full of youth than the last. Long tanned thighs in short shorts or mini skirts, diaphanous blouses and soft sighs and giggles as they walked by, oblivious to the fact it filled her with jealousy and pumped adrenaline into her veins, stronger than a stampeding bull. But most of these little serving wenches weren't exactly right, they had been tainted. She could smell it. Her nose was that refined. In these dark times of embarrassingly loose morals, it was rare these days to find the right kind of girl on any college campus, even at the bible colleges the pickings were slim. Little whores, she muttered as she passed a particularly tall and slim blond with a girl with beads in her dreads.
Actually, this girl smelled differently. Elzbeta inhaled deeply, every fibre of her being focussing on the effort in the brief amount of time as the girl barrelled toward her, toward her no-doubt bright blond future. Yes! Elzbeta confirmed it. It was high and sweet like lilac in spring. It was so truly intoxicating it made Elzbeta drowsy and she twisted her head to follow the smell as the blond passed in a cloud of otherwise noxious perfume. That odious synthetic scent won't save you, my dear, Elzbeta mused. But her burden sloshed ominously in her handbag and she realized that time was of the essence. She made a mental note of the blonde's face and height for later.
Subconsciously, the blond made a wide arc around Elzbeta, as she was completely engrossed in what the black girl was saying. Kind of worshipful. Elzbeta smirked to herself and moved on. Most of all she hated Love.
Elzbeta darted under the shaded awning of the library and through the oak double doors, out of the cursed sunlight. Once inside she took a deep breath and felt more herself. Her radiant dark beauty was more penetrating in the dim and she knew it. She passed a series of security desks granting access to professors and graduate fellows without showing ID and jumped into the elevator going to the top floor. It was better this way. Her ID did not show her face, but a face very similar to hers, a distant relative she had discovered living in the same country. She had stalked her and drugged her and taken her picture. No harm done.
There was a section of this library that held rare books, and it was here she headed. It was like coming home. Some of the books dated back to the crusades, some dated back to the first century and some were as old as she was.
But that was not where she was headed. There was a practically abandoned pair of washrooms right outside the entrance to the rare book library. This is where she was headed, with her life-giving fluid. As expected, the women's washroom was vacant. The lights responded to movement and blinked on with a series of hums as Elzbeta entered. Alas, motion sensors were the only upgrade the university had done to this room. It had yellow linoleum floors, three pathetic stalls, the doors were without working locks, of course, and - for some reason that only the original architects would understand - a gorgeous panel window that allowed a flood of natural light into the room. It wasn't dirty, no one used it. No one even knew about it probably except the janitor who kept it clean once a week.
Elzbeta twisted around very fast and locked the main door behind her, now she had it all to herself. She raised her hand in the direction of the ceiling, palm forward menacingly and at once the lights dimmed back down, the humming ceased as the electricity surged out of the wires.
She dropped her bag in the sink and immediately began to strip. Her beautiful taupe silk shift and matching cashmere sweater became an expensive puddle of fabric at her feet. Her gold necklace, hoop earrings and bangles followed with a clatter. In her haste to tear those off she poked her finger on the back of the earring and a single drop of blood fell to the floor. Immediately the linoleum square began to smoke and bubble, leaving a small dent. Elzbeta was impervious.
Once naked she clawed at her open handbag slumped elegantly in the porcelain sink and grabbed the soft plastic bags of blood plasma that lay within. These bags came from the paediatric oncology ward of the local hospital. Sick little children, yes, but perfect for her. Using her nails and teeth she ripped a bag open and took a deep inhale. Not too late, she hoped. The smell of iron hit her like a slap and immediately relaxed every muscle in her taut body. Careful not to spill she dipped her fingers gingerly in the bag and painted the crimson mess down her cheek, watching two lines appear in the scratched mirror. It began to dry and turn a darker red, then a rich brown ochre. Yes, she fancied she could already feel a difference. She dipped again and washed her arms and face in the blood. Then her legs and feet. That emptied the first bag and she cracked a second like a cold beer.
She poured this bag directly down her chest starting at the bottom of her throat and watched it flow between her legs like an inverted waterfall. She massaged it in, careful to cover her breasts and nipples evenly. The action bringing them to sharp attention. Over her hips and buttocks and watched the reflected body of blood in mirror as she massaged it between her legs. To an objective observer, they would see the thing called Elzbeta with its mouth hanging open and her pretty black eyes rolled back in her head, showing just the whites.
She finished off by wiping her sticky palms through her hair. Her entire body had changed colour. Very quickly the blood had dried to black. She looked like she was carved out of obsidian. Around her were splatters and puddles of blood. It was a crime scene. Crouching on all fours she dipped the tip of her tongue in the nearest spot. Her teeth turned red as she swallowed. She smiled, the natural light catching her eyes, but it was ghastly.
She proceeded to lick the entire area clean. The linoleum, the stalls, the porcelain sink, the mirror, even the stains out of her clothes. Nothing was left when she finished. Not even the dried black blood that had coated her body. While she had ministered to her disgusting labours, it had been completely absorbed into her skin leaving it translucent and glowing. Her hair shone and swung freely around her shoulders. Her nails slightly longer, her feet and legs perfectly smooth. Her teeth glisteningly white, if a little small. A tiny imperfection that belied her advanced age. It had nothing to do with the health of her birth mother, who had enough milk for three children while she was pregnant. It was just that a millennia of eating will grind down even the strongest teeth. Most importantly her perfect heart shaped face was taut and wrinkle-free. Of course, she couldn't see this in the mirror, it was more of a feeling, a feeling of eternal youth. The best feeling in the world.And standing there, still naked but somehow possessed with an inner light of beauty, Elzbeta smelled something. Something she hadn't smelled in a long, long time...