A Drop of Heaven

Trigger warning: blood and gore

“There is something so divine about drinking from a glass that is at least a hundred years older than you are,” said the Lady, glancing up at the man. “It is almost as if I can taste all the lips that have touched the rim before my own.”

The Lord let out a rather condescending chuckle, caressing the neck in front of him, taking a moment to brush aside the dark hair that stood in his way. 

“Personally, my dear, I much prefer my drinks fresh.” He paused for emphasis. “I find it to be far more… intimate.”

Now it was his Lady’s turn to release a haughty laugh. 

“I would hardly call this ‘intimate’, Harold. This is the third woman you’ve had this week. If you continue at this rate, we will likely have to move again.”

Ignoring his Lady’s harsh comment, he returned his focus to the beautiful neck in front of him, taking his time to run his fingers down the curve of the tendon. Reaching to the tray he had set up on the dining table, he chose a 50mL syringe and attached a needle to it. He squeezed the air from it and aligned it with the artery. Then, without a moment of hesitation, he plunged the sharp tip into the skin.

Of course the body strapped into the chair did not react, but his Lady flinched and looked away.

“I do wish you would refrain from doing this in front of me. Why else did we have Gary build us an extra room in the basement?” she said, trying to mask her disgust by taking another sip of her drink.

“My love, I am doing this for you,” he chided gently, filling up the syringe. Without a sound, he plucked the full vessel out, careful not to let a drop go to waste. Reaching his hand out to his wife, he spoke. “Allow me to refill your glass.”

With a heavy sigh she handed it to him and he emptied the contents of the syringe into the mix.

“Was that the last we had of the blonde girl?” he asked.

“Yes. I have to say, she was quite delicious. Perhaps we should have kept her alive for a few weeks and stocked up the freezer?” the Lady mused. 

The Lord hummed as though he was listening. But his eyes were fixated on the singular drop of blood oozing out of the hole he had punctured. As his wife’s voice faded into the background, he could not wait a moment longer and pounced onto the warm flesh of his victim’s neck. Of course, human teeth could hardly pierce skin as elegantly as a real vampire’s would, but his untidy home remedy of sawing his canines into shape had brought him as close to perfection as he could ever hope to achieve.

An appreciative groan escaped from his lips, clamped to the neck, and he savoured the slightly sweet yet tangy taste that enveloped his tongue. Biting down harder, he fought back a smile as the liquid began to flow smoothly.

He had no idea why his Lady would choose to drink from a cup, denying herself the carnal pleasure of tasting the most intimate part of another person. Gone were the days when they would feast on their victims together, when she would take the first bite and lift her head, staring up at him as that beautiful red liquid dribbled from her lips to her chin. Gone were the days when he would lean down and kiss her sweet lips, the two of them sharing the blissful feeling of feasting on an innocent. Gone were the days when she would join him as he hunted for their next victim.

Something had happened that night, back when they still lived in the trailer park, while he was out disposing of the useless shell of a body bled dry. Something had happened to his beautiful wife, his perfect partner. And now she sat across from him, refusing to give in to his fantasy, subtly trying to convince him to give up the pleasure he sought in these young women.

He lifted his head from the neck, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip to collect the remnants of his first drink. And for the first time, he saw his Lady in a new light. Her square-rimmed glasses sat heavily on her nose and her forehead was pinched in a frown of displeasure. She had barely taken a sip from the gift he had given her, and had set the glass down on the table in front of her. The only part of her that remained attractive to him in that moment was the part that was covered by her hair. The stupid hair that always got in the way.

His breathing was heavy as he returned to take another sip from his personal chalice, eyes closed, envisioning it was his Lady’s neck he was drinking from. When he lifted his head back up, he knew for certain who his next victim would be.

And drowning his taste buds in the taste of her blood was going to be as close to heaven as a vile man such as himself would ever get.