In the Dark

He takes a deep breath. A ghost story, he had told ghost stories before, hadn't he? His mouth was dry and he very slowly reached out, feeling for the table before him. Cautiously reaching for his glass, thankful that he had refilled it before she had blown the candle out. He brings it to his lips, and takes a sip, no, more like a gulp. How many glasses had he had? He could feel the wine going to his head. He should eat some more bread, but can't see it. Crap this was really weird. If he smoked he could just whip out his lighter and relight the candle, but he wasn't a smoker and didn't have a lighter.

He swallows and tries to gather his thoughts, his words at first stumbling out as he tries to tell a simple silly ghost story; one he remembers from some long ago camping trip. Nothing fabulous, but as he tells it he starts to relax. She listens politely, laughing when she should, gasping in all the right places. He discovers its very easy to talk in the dark, much like performing, only without the bright lights in your eyes. When the lights were on, you couldn't see people watching you, this was very similar; with no lights on you still couldn't see.

When he finishes, she tells him what a wonderful story it was and how good he told it. Yea, she liked it, he did good, a little pat on the back for Jesse, he says to himself.

"Now its your turn?" he says, reaching out, slowly feeling with his fingers for where he thinks the bread is at. Finding it he tears a piece off, and stuffs it in his mouth. He really needs to eat more, his head is swimming from the wine.

"Well, this story starts off with a young woman, happily married to a Lord, who resides over an estate located in the English countryside..." She continues to tell of their blissful happy life, until an Italian Count moves into the neighboring estate. Reports of unexplained deaths start to spread. Unbeknownst to the residents of the area, the Count is a vampire.

"Now the Count became obsessed with this woman. And one night he comes into her room, subduing her husband in an attack, he takes her. Taking her back to his lair, if you want to call it that; its there he turns her into a vampire. She manages to escape and return home. Mortified at what as happened to her, she begs her husband to kill her.

The hunger in this newly made body, is frightening, she is stronger than before, her senses more alert. Her sight, her hearing better than humans. She knows the hunger building inside of her will destroy all that she holds dear. As nights pass and unable to control herself, she kills the helpless, the weak. Unable to stop herself once the feeding begins. Afraid of hurting her family, of hurting the ones she loves, she again begs her husband to kill her. But he loves her too much. He can not kill the love of his life. Instead he buries her, walls her up in the foundation of a church. Hoping God will have pity on her soul and take her into heaven. Take her soul and save her from the evil blood sucking creature of the night she had been turned into."

Tave pauses, "Two hundred and seventy years pass. A new church is scheduled to be built, upon the ruins of the old crumbling church. Crews come in to rebuild. Its then they discover the body, it looks like a mummy, only in much better condition than any of those ever found.

"Out in the air, the smells of the world, this body, long forgotten, long thought dead, moves."

Jesse hears the legs of the chair scrap on the floor as she moves. He jumps at the sound. He had been so relaxed, engulfed in her story telling, the soothing hypnotic sound of her voice, he chides himself for jumping. Its only a story he tells himself, his heart begins to race, his pulse quickens. Its too dark to see anything, he doesn't know what she is up too. His senses go on alert. She is moving around. He strains to listen for any sound that will tell him where she is at, but his heart is beating to loudly, it's hard for him to hear. Its exciting and scary at the same time, sitting here in the dark, not knowing what is going to happen.

Then he frowns. He hadn't realized one could move about the room in this little story telling game of theirs. He wishes he had thought of doing that when he was telling his ghost story. The thought of her squealing as he scared her with a poke in the ribs, would have been funny. Sliding his hand down her shirt would have been funnier still.

"You see, this woman has been buried for over two hundred years." He jumps, her voice right behind him.

"No food, no human contact. The modern day world is new to her, she is having to learn all about automobiles, electricity, television. Learn of this loud, erratic new music, called rock'n roll. She has to learn how to interact with rude, obnoxious, speak what's-on-their-mind humans. Humans who dress scantily, act immorally. Immorally from the way she was raised, from what she believes. She is shocked that these people have sex with anyone and without marriage."

In this new world she has awaken to, many of them boast of being vampires. They embrace the idea, make it sound romantic and desirable. This idea of eternal damnation. Feeding on the weak, the taking of human life by draining their blood."

Her hand softly comes to rest on his head. A lump forms in his throat. A shiver runs down his spine. Oh she was good, very good. A vampire? Did she want him to think she was a vampire? Wait! Does SHE think she is a vampire? Has she eaten anything since coming into this room? Did she drink? His mind on overload, races through the last couple of minutes before the light went out. God almighty, what has Jackson done? She's delusional, possibly even psychotic. Damn it Jackson! You've locked me in here with a lunatic.

She runs her fingers lightly through his hair. If he wasn't worried about his life, this would be turning him on. Goosebumps break out over his arms.

Jackson was good at reading people, but maybe he had read this woman wrong. Maybe he was about to meet his death. Oh, Jackson, please don't let her be a freakazoid, please don't let her kill him in some weird delusional fantasy. Jesse closes his eyes, willing himself to stay calm. The last thing he wanted to do was jump up and scream like a little girl.

"Of course now in this new world," Tave's sultry voice continues, "she learns of blood banks, where humans freely give their blood for those in need of it. Its stored, cool and fresh, waiting for someone to take it."

Oh shit, she wants his blood. Shit, shit.

"And she does. The hunger in her is quenched. She no longer has to feed on humans, to take their blood, their life."

Jesse concentrates on his breathing. He doesn't want her to know how much she is freaking him out, as he listens to the soft melodious sound of her voice. His body starts to relax. What had she said? Blood from a blood bank? She's fed? She won't kill him, she won't bite him? Oh man, this was totally creepy yet at the same time he's getting really turned on. Was she hypnotizing him? Damn the dark room, his mind was getting carried away with crazy thoughts. If the lights were on, this wouldn't seem so scary; would it?

"Even though she has blood, enough to sustain her, the urge to feed on humans is still there. To sink her teeth into their soft skin, to tear down into the vein and feel the rush of warm, salty blood is still very powerful to her." Tave's voice barely a whisper in his ear as she leans down beside him, her breath fanning out on his neck.

Oh shit, his eyes fly open finding nothing but the darkness. He holds his breath, waiting, anxious.

"A human can sometimes smell so delicious."

He can hear her breathe in deeply through her nose as she smells him. Her hands are on his shoulders, her fingers pressing into his skin. For some reason, maybe its all in his head, he can't move, he's frozen in his seat. The lump in his throat comes back, it jumps up and then drops to his stomach with a hard thump.

"Can she control herself?" she says softly. Her hand comes up and brushes his hair back away from his cheek, his neck. She tilts his head to the side. Jesse's hands clench into fists. His legs tensing, readying himself to flee, to fight for his life if need be against this wacko. Yet even with fear gripping him, he can feel his cock jerk, start to harden.

The gasp that escapes from him is loud in the room. Surprised by her cool lips, they feel like ice on his skin. She kisses him, her tongue tasting. He closes his eyes, letting the sensation, the fear course through his body. He is frozen in place. His legs probably not even capable of moving if he did try to run. She gives him a sensual little nip with her teeth, her mouth clamping down and sucking. Sucking and kissing his neck. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt at all, its just like getting a hicky, he thinks. The coldness fades, and warmth radiates out along his neck, down his chest, straight to his cock. His heart that was frantically pounding blood in his chest, now rushes to his manhood. Eager to fill it, eager in anticipation for her lips to be on it.

With a small kiss to soothe his bruised skin, she pulls away. "Surprisingly she can control herself." Tave's voice is quiet and soft in the darkness. She moves around him, her legs brushing against his. "She doesn't want to be a monster. All she wants is love. The husband that she lost two hundred and seventy years ago."

Suddenly Tave straddles Jesse and sits on his lap, her hands on his shoulders. Jesse catches his breath, again surprised at the boldness of this woman. And to think all it took was for the lights to be out. She could be a real vampire or not, he no longer cared. The fear had turned to excitement. He liked it, liked this. He liked it a lot. The warmth of her body, her fragrance, the hypnotic sound of her voice, so soothing, so comforting. It probably had to do with all the wine he had drunk, but his body tingled from head to toe. It was like listening on the phone to one of those sex chat lines. The sexy unseen voice on the other end, describing in detail, erotic acts. Only with this, the sexy unseen voice was actually sitting on his lap.

He slides just a little bit down in the chair, putting his hands on her hips and sliding her higher up towards his crotch. Pressing her against his growing hard on.

"But someone she thought dead is hunting her." Tave continues the story, her fingers rubbing his earlobes, moving to his temples, massaging his scalp. Again he closes his eyes, letting her hands heighten the sexual awakening of his body.

"She thought she had killed him two hundred seventy years ago. Killed the one who had turned her into a creature of the darkness. Yet here he was, alive and well, living among the humans, pretending to be one of them. And he has found her."

Her hands tug on the hair at the back of his head, he catches his breath. Her thighs squeeze against his legs. He slides his hands down, around and under her rump. His cock pressing against the confines of his pants. Damn he wants her.

"He wants to possess her, to own her, to make her his. There is a confrontation between the two."

Oh yea, baby, a confrontation. What she just said, sinks in. He can understand the feeling, the wanting. He desperately wants to rip open her shirt, to grab her hands and hold them behind her back while he kisses her roughly. He can understand that all too well. But he waits, letting her continue.

"She can not be controlled and he knows it. This is what drives him to possess her. Does he chain her down, put her in a cage? Deny her their kind food until she promises to become his. Wait for her to submit to his will?"

She pulls on his arms, bringing his hands around, squeezing his fingers together, her thumb making circles on his palms. She guides his fingers over her mouth, the words vibrating along his skin as she speaks, guiding his fingers down along her neck. He can feel her collarbone as his fingertips pass over it. Her skin is cool, yet soft, he can feel the edge of her shirt, the neckline, the waffled material of the cotton shirt, the tiny snaps.

"Does he rape her?" she asks as she places his hands on her breasts, rubbing his palms over her nipples. His fingers grabbing, like a child clutching, squeezing, feeling her nipples harden through the thin material. Her hands go back to his head, her fingers entwining in his hair. She grinds her hips against him, teasing his cock.

"He can have her body, but he will never have her mind, her soul and he knows this. This frustrates him."

He moans as she tugs on his hair, pulling his head back.

"He wants her, he wants all of her. He wants her to submit to him, to do as he says. He wants to control her and most of all... he wants her to know that he controls her."

Fuck. She was teasing him with her body, her voice, her story. Damn right he wants her, he wants to pick her up and lay her down on the cold hard floor of the storage room and fuck her. Rape? She's talking about rape. Does she want him to rape her, to control her? She was letting him touch her, fondle her breasts. She was sitting on his lap, grinding against him. Maybe it was the other way around, maybe she was telling him what was going to happen. What she was wanting to do. Could a woman rape a man, Jesse wondered?

Fuck this! He didn't care who did what. He wants her, his cock stiff and confined in his pants. He wants to kiss her. He brings his hands to her back, pushing her closer to him. Forcing his head forward against her pulling at his hair, reaching, searching for her lips to be on his. He puts his hand on the back of her head, pushing her head down towards his.

"Kiss me." he rasps.

"No." she releases his head and pushes up off of him.

His arms reach out in the darkness for her and feeling nothing but air. He can hear the legs of her chair scraping across the floor. How the hell can she see so well in the this darkness?

"His touch on her body is excruciating. His fingers, his lips, too well trained in pleasuring a woman." she is continuing with the story. "Every time he touches her, it reminds her of her love. The lost love, the husband the Count had taken away from her."

What the fuck? Jesse's body aches for her. He stretches his legs out, bumping into the table, freezing, he waits to hear if anything has fallen. Nothing. He slowly stretches again, his hand sliding down inside his pants, readjusting his cock, hoping to ease the discomfort of having a swollen cock. He briefly considers unzipping his pants.

"The last thing she wants is to feel. To feel pleasure, to feel anything, especially from the monster that holds her captive." Tave continues on with her story.

Maybe he should just jerk off, Jesse thinks to himself. But he could see it now, that door opening, the light shining in like a spotlight on him. He'd never hear the end of it. What could do is get up, find her, grab her, force her give him a blow job, or better yet, pull those tight ass pants off and fuck her. Feel pleasure, not feel pleasure, at this point he didn't care what she wanted. He wanted some satisfaction, his cock wanted some action, pussy, mouth, whatever.

The room is silent and Jesse realizes, Tave is no longer talking. Why was she silent? Did she finish the story? He licks his lips, his mouth dry.

"So... huh... what, what is she going to do?" his voice sounds husky.

"What can she do? She either finds a way to kill him or kill herself."

"Kill herself? Why? Why not just learn to live with this life. You said in your story there are blood banks, she doesn't need to feed or kill humans. She can control herself. She can live, she can find... love."

Love. What the hell was he talking about?

"But what of him, what of the Count?" Tave asks.

Jesse thinks about the count for a moment, not sure what to do with the guy. He was obnoxious and arrogant, thinking that women wanted him, that he could control them. Maybe he could, maybe the ones that wanted to be controlled were the ones that hung around. Perhaps this woman—Jesse rolls his eyes, everything becoming very clear.

"Oh you're good." Jesse says, "You're very good."

Just then the store room's doorknob clicks, and the door swings open. The light from the hallway fills the room. Jackson stands in the doorway. Jesse holds his hand up and shields his eyes as he glances at his brother. For somebody in a band Jackson had lousy timing.

"Sorry to interrupt."" He tells the two of them. "but it's time to go. The bus is ready and if we are to stay on schedule, we're gonna have to go now."

Jesse looks over at Tave who is sitting in her chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, as if she had never moved from the spot.

"Huh, yeah." Jesse says, pulling on his pants, and turning slightly to the side, trying to hide his hard on as he stands up.

Tave also stands, "Well Jesse its been a pleasure. I hope I didn't bore you too much with all my talking." She approaches him with her hand extended out.

Jesse grins at her and takes her hand in his. "Not at all. It was most enjoyable. You are coming to the next show?" He doesn't want to let go of her hand. In fact he doesn't want her to leave at all.

She smiles at him, "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Do you want me to give this back?" she asks, holding up the backstage pass.

Jesse looks at the pass, reaching for it, the back of his hand purposely brushing against the front of her boob. "No, you can keep it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, but..." he gives it a tug, yanking her slightly towards him, "you make sure I see you at the concert."

She leans in close and whispers, "Keep your eyes on the darkness."

He was just about to grab her and lay a kiss on her, when she suddenly walked away.

"Jack." She says, nodding her head as she passes by him, slipping out the door and down the hallway.

Jackson flips on the light switch, which turns out to indeed be on the other side of the doorway. "Why is it so dark in here? Did the candle blow out?"

"You could say that." Jesse says picking up Tave's cup and draining it.

"You still want to kick my ass?" Jackson says, handing the near empty wine bottle to Jesse as he picks up the corners of the cloth, bundling what it into a make shift pack.

"Well... let me put it to you this way. If she doesn't show up at the next concert, I will be kicking your ass." Jesse says, grinning at his brother.

"What's that on your neck?" Jackson asks, as the two of them leave the room.

Two days later Jesse and the guys are at Sundance getting ready for a performance at a hole in the wall club. The venue is small, only a thousand people or so. The stage is surrounded by balconies, with theater style seats in the center. Its one of Jesse's favorite places to play. They have played here many times over, even before they had become a headliner band.

During sound checks Jesse is on stage, strumming his guitar and talking into the microphone, getting feedback and noises from the speakers.

"Check, check, check. One two three. Check."

Out of the corner of his eye he sees something. Looking up at the balcony box to his right he notices in the darkness that someone is there. His heart skips a beat, Tave's words in his head, 'keep your eyes on the darkness'.

During the bus ride that night after their encounter, he had laid in his bunk, replaying their brief time together. Remembering the sound of her voice, the feel of her hands on him. The way her body, her breasts had felt. Jackson and the other guys had bugged him about what had happened. Had teased him about the hickey on his neck, but keeping his word to her, he never told them a thing. Jackson had told him later, that when he first met Tave in Detroit, he had been smitten with her, but after talking to her he soon realized how crazy she was with Jesse. She herself had been too shy to approach Jesse, thinking she was not worthy of his attention. Jackson told him how he had concocted the plan on getting the two of them together, without interruptions, so Jesse himself could get to know Tave and see what a catch she would be.