Your honesty is appreciated by a dying man. Surely, this was it. He could feel it, as he always had felt it; the pain of his insides being twisted by her iron fist and yet it felt as if he was letting go. Somehow he was at peace in this barbaric method of murder, but though he wished to fall there and then her words did not fall upon deaf ears. As she lapped up the blood that began to collect within his mouth, he spoke gently.
If I am to tell you anything, it will only be a single phrase.
The blood from him was different, sweet and yet… There wasn’t a word to describe it. As if it had been aged, saved for such a precious occasion. Suddenly, she regretted killing this one. Yet, she remained firm in her stance. You may as well say it, your breath is running out.
Eyes ran over him, he felt purely human. There was nothing remotely super natural about him. However, he was different. Waiting for him to speak, she moved her mouth to his neck, just below his jaw and she bit into him, drinking deeper. It almost elicited a moan from her.