The Desire – a short horror story

A chance sighting on a dark sidewalk leads to a desire…

I tried.  I did not succeed, but truly, I did try.

When I saw the man striding past, tight anger showing on his face and in the way he carried his body, I turned away, determined not to follow.  But the aura of maleness emanating from him would not allow me to ignore him.  It drew me in.

I slid from the doorway in the alley, slipped out onto the pavement and fell into step behind him.  He was fast but not fast enough, and soon, I had nearly caught up to him.  I was silent, but he must have sensed something, intuited that someone was behind him, for he slowed, swung his head around, and peering cautiously into the growing shadows, spotted me.  I did not appear to be a threat to him, a small woman, not very tall, and him a large man of more than average height.  He stopped.

“Are you following me?” he asked, his voice hard-edged with annoyance.

“Yes,” I said.  There seemed no point in lying.

He frowned and looked down at me.  “Well, stop it!  I’m not in need of what you’re offering!” he snapped, turning to continue on his path down the darkening sidewalk.

I stood there watching him recede into the dimness.  I tried again to turn away, and may well have succeeded, but the man slowed, stopped, and turned.  He stood there for a moment, then, as if coming to some decision, he returned to where I still stood gazing after him.

“Changed my mind,” he snarled.  He reached out and roughly caught my small hand in his large one.  “Come on.  That alley down there will do nicely.”  He indicated the one I had been in when he passed by.

There seemed to be no help for it, then.  I nodded, and he strode back down the sidewalk, practically dragging me along.

He turned into the alley, pulling me with him to the rear.  He pushed me against the brick wall and began unbuckling his belt, pulling down his zipper.

“How much is this going to cost me?” he asked as he fumbled one hand into his pants to pull himself out.  With his other, he reached to lift my skirt.  Had he not done that, I may still have been able to back away, to resist what I lusted for with my entire body and also what I had no wish to do, but now it was too late.

I raised my face to his, and his eyes narrowed as I said nothing, just stared at him.

“Well?  How much?” he repeated, massaging himself, preparing to thrust as he pushed aside my undergarment.

“Your life,” I murmured quietly as I unleashed myself, rising to my full height and size – which was much greater than his – and I engulfed him before he could scream, my sharp teeth tearing into his soft, succulent, indescribably delicious flesh.

I did try.  In the end, as usual, desire won.

End