Discover it for yourself !
The ceiling she gazed up at was all canvas. A canvas sky, she mused, patiently killing time until the real business of the night could begin. Checking the luminous face of her watch, which winked mockingly in the darkness of the little tent, she sighed. Afew more minutes, she told heself, just to be sure. One of them had to get up soon, she had made sure that they all drank enough. They were humans for goodness sake ! All they did was shit and piss. One of them had to get up to make the lonely little treck all the way to the campsite toilets sometimes soon . . .
As for her, she hoped it was Marshall. She couldnt stand Marshall and besides, he looked enjoyable. There was a sudden moan as the zip of a nearby tent protested angrily as it was yanked down. Heavy footfall - a boy, and clumsily placed, near bringing half his tent down with him as he stumbled into the dark, chilly night. Time to go out and play, she smiled.
Silently, and with a lot more skill and grace than he, she exited her own tent and slipped out into the night. Her eyes adjusted almost imediately, restoring a near perfect vision, despite the pitch black, and she slid unseen into posistion, behind her unsuspecting prey. He stumbled, blearily into the small toilet block, and she sidled up to wait for him by the door, her pale skin bared against the cold night, protected by nothing but a thin, white night gown, turned translucent and dimly glowing in the silvery moonlight.
The sleep-drunk Marshall eventually blundered, in overlarge T-shirt and shorts, the clothes he had been wearing throughout the evening, from the lavatories. And like a spider, delicately blanketing and trapping her fly in gossamer web, she caught him. At first, he turned, surprised by her light touch upon his sleeve. Then, her arms were around him, holding him, trapping him, and he melted into her embrace. She drew his face, dumb-eyed and slack-jawed like an animal staring, near to her own, allowing her breath to mingle sweetly with his. Stroking the back of his head, his neck, she briefly brushe her lips against his, drawing away almost instantly and holding his stunned gaze, smiling sweetly all the while.
With her eyes she commanded him, enticed him to follow her as she danced silently away into the night. He, already under her spell, followed without question, all thoughts of returning to the sweet, safe embrace of sleep forgotten. Through the wooden gate, into a meadow of long marram grass she lead him, unheard she danced through the field until they reached the middle, and, delicately gripping his finger in her own, she pulled him once more to her. Again, she brushed he hands over his neck, his head, his lips, and again, she allowed their lips to touch, briefly. Pushing him down, into the long, waving grass, that rippled like a sea of earth and leafy fronds, her embrace turned cold.
Her soft, caressing touch, melted into nails. She dragged them forcefully across his belly, drawing blood, smelling lood. As one waking from a drunken stupor, he whimpered in surprise, but by this time her hand had already smothered his screams. She laughed with pure, unbridled glee as he squirmed, wide-eyed beneath his captor. And she swiped at him once more with her nails, taking particular pleasure in his muffled agony and clear discomfort and terror. Reaching down, she extended her jaw, reaching, searching, roaming until she found the delicate skin of his neck. She bit. A muffled howl of panic and pain went up, and she clamped her teeth down harder, biting and sucking as she went. Her needle sharp incisors were the first to find purchase within the thick, rich veins of his jugular. She severed them easily, with a well-practised tearing motion, and drank deeply. The boy's screams growing fainter and more desperate all the while. Finnally he died, in the early hours of the morning, with her smiling down at him, silhouetted against the dawn. She slipped easily back into the camp a few hours later, his body safely dismembered, with each part securely buried at the bottom of the nearby river. She showered, rejoicing in the hot, fresh water and sweet, tangy and metallic aftertaste of the blood. She woke, and worried and panicked and sobbed with the other girls after, feigning concern whilst the boys looked and called for their lost friend. And still, she couldnt resist a little grin of pleasure, of triumph every time she found herself alone that day. She couldnt resist that nasty little thought of, i've gotten away with it, ha ha ha . . .