Author’s note: This is chapter four of my Little Deaths series…
I woke this morning, as I always do. A quick coffee, brush the old teeth, a shower. Pants on one leg at a time, a warm sweater and out the door I go to start my day.
Almost springtime…where does the time go?
That is as close to normal as my day ever comes.
The hunt began about ten this morning as I stepped into the bright sunshine along Acadia Drive and walked to my car. The wind, this morning, was nasty coming off the Rocky Mountains…no Chinook today. My hair was whipped so hard around my face, were I a normal man there might have been welts. I probably should get this mop cut, but I like how the long hair seems to give me that gothic look that they respect here. Respect…intimidated…whatever. It works. The women also seem to find a tall man with long blonde hair sexy…though it really is not blonde. All depends on what light you catch me in. This morning I was in my usual blacks from jeans to over coat which, even in sunlight, gives the right image.
I have an ancient navy blue Toyota Tercel which I keep in pristine shape. Amazing how well a twenty year old vehicle handles the frigid Alberta winters when you treat it right. They say Toyotas last forever…then again, these people do not really know what forever means.
Only a select few of us do know the true meaning of eternity.
Sorry, I am digressing.
It seems that a man of my grand size is an odd pairing for a Toyota Tercel. The looks my seven-foot tall body gets as I climb in and out of the clown car make me laugh.
On this nearly spring yet fucking freezing day I was heading to Banker’s Hall. The twin towers are on 8th Avenue Southwest…in no traffic, probably a ten minute drive. Traffic, however…
I still remember when I first arrived here with my friend David Thompson. We spent a winter with natives along the Bow River here. The tribe we camped with had about 300 when we got here and, I estimate about 3000 in the surrounding area. Wonderful feeding ground for me then as no one seemed to notice anyone missing. Now, some time later admittedly, the city is 1.2 million and multi-cultural. Still a wonderful feeding ground as the city hides many sins…many more than it did almost 300 years ago.
So, where was I…ah yes, driving. I cruise out on to Acadia from the apartment and head right…or south to those not getting this. About a hundred yards later, I turn right onto Southland Drive. Drive west for a few minutes, passing 5th Street, Fairmount and before another right one of those ugly big boulevards, McLeod Trail. Nine kilometres north and the old Husky Tower grows before we turn left on 11th, a right on 3rd, and then one more left onto 8th Avenue to find parking.
To make a long story short…although, one of those silly films that make me laugh is Tim Curry in Clue where they would all yell “Too late!”…I found myself sipping a coffee at Starbucks as the lunchtime office crowd wandered through. I watch them as the mountain cougar watching deer wandering through the valley.
Last week, I admit I went for easy prey. With my abilities, admittedly, it makes no difference if she is the drug addicted stripper I took last week, or the devoted wife working as the church secretary at St. Mary’s I took a month ago…but those that think they are sacred beings are so much more fun. When I pick one, she immediately knows that I could create her destiny…give her such ultimate pleasure as a reward.
For the record, nothing against the males of this species, but fuck it I don’t swing that way. I’m a hetero-predator…sue me. Although, I did end up in this three-way with a goddess and her husband, one time, where the guy gave me a bit of a handjob which felt wonderful…in fact, think I returned the favour and even thought about sucking him off, but decided that was not going to do much at that time. Next time, though.
But that is really what you people want, isn’t it? The dirt…the explicit of how I saw my prey as she passed though the Bankers Hall concourse leaning on her cane. She had black pants and a white sweater…not too exciting on the fashion side.
Actually, all things considered, the woman was downright hot. Red hair and about five foot five or so. Slim though a bit of a posture issue due to some leg problem…thus the cane. After I followed her to work and quickly set my mental claws into her she told me of her life…two grandchildren, a twenty-two year marriage to a doctor, and a career in engineering herself.
Her name was Petra. Born, I believe she said in Russia and immigrated here when she was ten…perhaps defected is the better term. Let me say, for a near fifty year old, she looked fantastic.
That hip curve…I don’t know, is that the hollow of the hip? She could have worn belly shirts if she had chosen, but fashion wise she was quite conservative. I wined and dined, as I always do and she already knew her destiny. She was soon ignoring the call from her husband that desperately came every ten minutes as we sipped our red wine and giggled.
What can I say, my prey tastes better when they are happy.
Soon the two of us find ourselves naked in a back alley behind the Greyhound station on 16th.
I must say that watching a woman take my erection in her mouth is somewhat new to me. In fact, only recently I first experienced it. Apparently, even after nearly eight thousand years of preying upon humans, I am somewhat prudish.
Thus, watching as she was on her knees and pulling at my jean zipper…it is so cute. Watching as her tiny fist grasps my erection and then feeling the warmth as of mouth take it in…well, call me a convert, but I now understand the fixation these humans have on oral sex. Assuming I ever get home, I will definitely introduce this concept to my people. We are not prudes at all. Just something we had never thought of, so far as I know.
Regardless, I thought about cumming in her mouth, but I must say I am afraid to do this as I do not know what the result will be.
Thus, I stopped her when I felt I was losing control. I stood her up…picked her up…and felt her legs wrap around me as my erection…likely the biggest erection she has seen…pushed inside her pussy.
I may not be human, but I am all man. Let me just say that there is little feeling one can compare to that moment when the tip of one’s penis pushes inside a female. The warmth…the wet…and to feel her legs wrap around me is just an added pleasure. Add to that the energy that seeps from her, at first…and then floods as I feed…no mortal human male could ever imagine what these female goddesses give to me.
I do not require restraints, nor much real control as I fuck the life from them…okay, I admit to enjoying pulling the goddess’ hair a bit, but I always bring them the ultimate pleasure where they see what their life is for and how their destiny has always been.
Damn…now I’m hard and wanting to feed again. Not the most opportune time, admittedly as I stand behind a police barricade watching them. They have found the shell of Petra I have cast aside from my feeding.
Much as I enjoy the feeding…again, I am male…I am so sorry for taking Petra from her family. By the human standards of morality, she was a good woman and will be missed. However, I must do what I must to survive and…wait…
…there she is.
Dawn McCoy, I believe is the name she goes by.
She is a member of what they refer to as the RCMP here…always get their man…Dudley Doright…a goddess above goddesses.
She thinks she is human. I am uncertain why, but she does not know that she is protecting those that should fear her. She is like me and not of this world.
Well…humans are not of this world, but that is not the point…she is a predator, like me.
In fact, she is the reason I am here.