Like a glove, the darkness enfolds her.  Like a glove, the darkness surrounds her, becomes subject to her will and part of her being.  The desolation of three million people empties her soul and she knows that it begins.  The thirst is in her throat and the ache within her bones and soul.  She stretches her arms upwards at a forty five angle and spreads her fingers.  The cool wind whispers between them and she imagines that she can feel the pulse of life that the breeze has touched.  Life calls to her and her spirit answers.  It answers with a primal hiss, the hiss of a ravenous hunter preparing to stalk and claim its prey.

She shivers and wraps her cape about her.  It is a magnificent cape.  She'd fallen in love with it the night she'd seen it.  She's not tall and the cape comes almost to her ankles.  It's a dead flat black but the lining is a beautiful deep purple silk.  It flashes, it shimmers, it seems to echo darkness and mystery.  As a contrast to the flat absolute black outer shell, it is awe inspiring and surprisingly warm.  She shivers again and enjoys the protection the cape offers her from the elements.  Swirling fog permeates the trees and clings to the bushes on either side of the park path.  The occasional street lamp contributes to the darkness rather than adding it's light to the night.

She walks, almost glides along the dim path, seemingly at home in the dark and dampness.  As she progresses, a street lamp seems to spring from dark nothingness and quickly fade back into the darkness as she passes.  The fog enforces an eerie silence, broken only by the rustle of tree branches, stirred by the wind like the limbs of giant insects.  The large, wide brimmed hat protects her from the dripping moisture from the trees while contributing to the air of mystery, as subtle as the menace that surrounds her.  Why would anyone be out on a night like this?  Why would anyone be in the park, a park not noted for night time safety or security?  Why is she out and in the park on a night like this?  Her throat hurts with a parched dryness and she inhales through pursed lips to cool the fire, but the fire in her blood burns more than the cool of the night air can quench.

Low voices can be heard just off of the path.  She stops, alert, her garb causing her to blend into the darkness.  A young couple are leaning against a tree.  They are kissing and his hands roam her body.  She can almost feel the heat of their passion.  A young couple, such as this, could meet an unhappy fate on such a night.  Were her eyes taking on a yellow glow?  Did her hands deform into claw like appendages?  She makes a strangled hiss, and the couple, startled, looked around.  They stare in her direction but no sign of cognisance lights their faces, only concern and perhaps a bit of fear.  They hold each other close and walk rapidly away from the source of the strange sound and their discomfort.  She starts to move in their direction but hesitates and turns, gliding in the opposite direction.

A fever burns her brow, and even in the cool of the dank night, she can feel a chill perspiration form on her body.  She feels hot and cold and her body itches and aches.  She swallows hard, trying to relieve the dryness of her troat.  She feels as if she's turning into a desiccated shell of her former being.  Her body's a raw aching nerve, throbbing its plaintive woe to her parched mind.  She hurts.

There is the sound of raucous laughter and breaking glass.  She stops, every sense alert.  Can she smell, beer, sweat and vomit?  Three men, walking carefully but slightly staggering become visible as they approach her.  Dirty, disreputable and drunken are the thoughts that cross her mind.  Distaste shows on her face.

"What the hell!  What the hell do we have here, guys?" The shorter of the three says.  The three stop and stare hard at her.  She can feel their drunken interest and their lust.  The tallest, at least six foot two, approaches her and bends to her level and squints in the direction of her face, attempting to view her features under the brim of the hat.  "Damn if'n I can see a thing.  She might not have a face."  He straightens, laughing.  "What do you say that we unwrap this little present and have us a party?"  He reaches to pull the cape from her body and finds a hand full of nothing.  "What the hell!"

The laughter of his two friends causes him to spin around and there she is.  He imagines that she is laughing at him and that raises a drunken fury within him.  "Bitch!" He spat and reaches for her again.  All his friends can see is her back and the cape's sudden rise that obscures their vision.  She and their tall friend vanish inside of the cape and there are sounds.  Not loud sounds.  Just muffled sounds of pain and maybe the faint sound of bones breaking.  Could the two hear the muffled sounds of a large cat feeding?  For a moment, they imagine the slurping and crunching, but muffled, so very muffled by fog, darkness and a dead black cape.

She steps back and turns to face the two.  In the darkness and fog, it is difficult to make out the form of their prostrate companion, but they know that something is horribly wrong with him.  She slowly lifts her head so that her face is visible, as visible as it can be in such a dim environment.  The two stand transfixed by the sight.  She spreads her arms, opening the cape.  Two gasps can be heard.  What do they see?  Is it lust?  Is it fear?  Is it both?

With muttered epithets, both turn and attempt to run.  The tinkle of broken glass from the dropped bottle of cheap brandy can be heard and an alcoholic odor permeates the air.  One stumbles and falls, the other begins a shuffling, staggering attempt at running away from her.  He utters a muffled scream as he runs into her arms and feels the cape close about them, engulfing him in total and utter darkness.  A cry of agony escapes from deep within his being, but muffled by the night and the cape, as his throat is torn out, his life's blood gushing from the severed arteries, the sound is heard by no one who cares.  Blood that never touches the ground but is savored and swallowed, used to quench a preternatural thirst and to fuel an intense life force, is unwillingly offered to her.  She is returning to full consciousness.  The elixir of life is having its effect

She drops the shell of the thug that would have had her and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.  Turning, she glides to the prone and whimpering form of the short one, the one that had seen her first.  She rolls him over onto his back with her foot.  He groans and curls into a fetal ball.  He feels soft lips on the back of his neck and then there is a sudden, sharp pain and a strange cracking sound.  He briefly realizes that his spine had been severed before darkness claims and engulfs him forever.  Rolling his limp form onto his back, she straddles and leans forward as if to kiss him.  The cape obscures what is happening but the sounds of a feeding creature, sounds of intense pleasure can be heard.

She is not in a hurry now.  The edge of the thirst and the pain are gone.  The hot blood washes over her body as she slowly empties him of his gift to her.  She'd wipes the blood from her bare torso with her hands and then licks it from her fingers.  Her very red tongue sneaking between her fingers in a parody of sensuality, lends a surrealistic air to the scene.  Is there a hint of claws at her finger tips and can the gleam of white fangs be seen in the darkness?

Standing, she adjusts the angle of her hat and wraps the cape about her.  An angelic smile graces her face.  Her cheeks have a healthy pink glow and she feels a happy warmth suffuse her being.  Life is good.  Life is very good.

The eerie glide that is her mode of travel puts distance between her and the carnage in the park.  She vanishes into the fog and darkness.

The smell of something foul almost takes her breath away.  A sharp pain at the tip of her nose rouses her to instant semi-consciousness.  She manages to focus one eye on the kitten that's holding a claw tipped, but otherwise soft paw, on her nose.  "Oh, gad!" she thinks.  "Mouse breath. Gee I wonder if the make mouthwash for cats? Catnip flavor,” she grins to herself.

Looking at her clock, she realizes its time to get ready for another work day.  Hoping the data will become more interesting, she gets herself ready.  Taking a few extra pains to look nice, she takes  out a new skirt and sweater set that she had just bought last week.  The skirt was a deep wine color and the sweater a lighter red.  Knowing she looked nice in this color made her feel better.  Although, thinking about it, she felt really good tonight.  Looking in the mirror as she did her hair, she decided to leave it loose and soft against her face.  The way it framed her face made her look younger somehow.  Seeing the healthy pink glow to her skin she knew she looked much better than she had yesterday.  Raising her hand to pin a loose curl into place, she noticed how nice her longer fingernails looked.  “I don’t remember filing them though” she thought.  They seem just a little to pointed to be comfortable.  “Oh well, enough wasting time.  Its time to leave.”  Wondering if the good Doctor would be there and working so closely with her tonight, had absolutely no bearing on the way she was dressed.  She kept telling herself that she wasn’t attracted to the man.  He was her boss.  But she knew, deep inside, that she was definitely attracted.  The way he had placed his hands on her shoulders last night, made her wonder if maybe he didn’t feel the same way.

Arriving at the door of the library, she entered and made her way to the room in which they were working.  Glad that this was the room put aside for their use, she made her way to her desk and started looking at the data.

Hearing her name called, she looked up from the paper she was reading, and smiled shyly at Dr. Rolf as he called to her.  “Oh, my dear, you look so much better than last night.  Oh dear, not to say you didn’t look ok............I think I’ll stop before I get myself further in trouble” he said in embarrassment.  Smiling still more, she replied that she was feeling much better.

“Eliza, have you done something to yourself?  You look different somehow, much more than just feeling better.”  “No I don’t think so Dr. Rolf, just a good day’s sleep” she replied.  “Please call me John, Eliza.  I have been calling you by your first name since we started.  You are welcome to do the same.”

“Alright..................John.”  It felt strange to her to be calling her boss by his first name, and yet it was nice.  Maybe the attraction is there for him also.  I hope so, she thought.  Pushing a stray lock of hair into place, she leaned over her desk again immersed in the data .  Feeling a tingling along her nerves, she looked up to catch Dr. Rolf staring at her with a quizzical look on his face, as if he didn’t know what to make of her.  She smiled at him as if to ask what was wrong.

Walking over, he said “I cannot believe the change that has taken place over the last day.  You have recovered nicely from whatever was bothering you and you look so much more “alive” is the only way I can describe it.  There is a glow to your eyes and your hair is so lustrous. I would love to know what you did”.  Blushing fiercely, she replied that as she had already stated, she did nothing but sleep.  I must have slept the sleep of the dead, as I don’t remember anything after I went to bed.

“Funny Eliza, but you have that little red mark on your lip again”.  Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, he proceeded to wipe it gently across the corner of her mouth.  “There, that does it” he said as he put the handkerchief back in his pocket.  “All gone”.  She shivered slightly at his touch, hoping that he wouldn’t notice.  There was that enticing smell of his cologne again.  Musky, sort of sensual.

Part of him....................