Truth

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She loved Halloween and always had. Many people said inordinately so, and perhaps that was true. Picking a costume, doing extreme make-up, flirting, teasing, all the things that constituted Halloween fun to so many were more than that. For her it was as though once a year she could be herself, the person she actually was hidden deep inside. For a little while, the beast could slip its leash. It was like an awakening. There was a magic to it. It was the only day of the year she seemed able to meet people she wanted to talk to, or even had anything in common with. Even when she was a child, she would stay out until midnight playing with other hobgoblins, pixies, fairies, vampires, and lycan until finally her mother would call her inside. Candy had always been secondary; the friendships, though only for the night, had always been the draw for her. It bothered her somewhat she could never find her playmates after Halloween. Even as an adult, no matter how good a time anyone seemed to have had, she was left without a single email, IM, or phone number.

Sighing to herself, she wiped off the eyeliner and lipstick that were her only makeup this year. The heat of the washcloth felt good against her cold nose and cheeks which she was quite sure were an unbecoming pink. Perhaps that was why he had walked off without taking the card she had offered with her contact information. The last two years he'd refused to share any of his contact information with her. She should have been able to let it slide; it was clear he wasn't interested.

But something about him drew her. Probably the fact he was her ideal of male perfection. Two metres tall, he towered over her. Long, straight black hair fell to his waist, pale skin gleamed like marble in the shadows of the night, green eyes glowed eerily like a cats, and muscle clearly rippled with his every move. He was ropey and slightly lanky rather than wide, but he moved with clear elegance of the sort she envied in anyone. And she would swear by the look in his eyes tonight he'd been interested, if only for a moment.

So she had slid the card from the small concealed pocket in the gown she wore, offering it to him wordlessly. She really wasn't sure which was worse; the cursory glance he'd given it, his refusal to even touch it, or his haste in leaving after she'd proffered the pathetic offering. She couldn't help it. She wasn't bold, not when she was attracted to men. As a matter of course, she was usually aloof with most people, earning her a reputation as an ice queen. Her friends knew the truth, but nothing they did broke through her carefully masked shyness when meeting strangers. Only time and familiarity did that, and the fact she could count all her friends on one hand with fingers left proved just how many people had the patience to deal with that.

After his admittedly polite rejection, the sheen had worn off the evening somewhat. She had pleaded tiredness to her friends, sighting the busy day at work as her cause. On the way home she met a male pixie out travelling to another party. It was near her apartment, so they walked and talked together for a few blocks before their ways parted. Somewhat cheered she had entered the apartment, and ten minutes later she was standing here, face buried in a washcloth, wishing she wasn't such an anti-social loser. Pulling the washcloth off her face, she glanced at her watch lying on the sink. Just past eleven o'clock. This was the earliest she had been home on Halloween since she was old enough to walk.

Sighing, she hung the washcloth on the rack, turned off the light, and crossed threshold into her room. Without bothering to turn on a light, she stripped out of her costume, laying the crushed velvet gown over the back of her desk chair and letting her garter, hose, and bra fall to the carpet next to her discarded shoes. Walking to her bed, she slipped into the tank and pyjama bottoms she'd folded and laid on her pillow in the morning, then slid under the covers to sleep.

He was waiting as soon as she closed her eyes. No preliminaries, no foreplay, not even a greeting. The tank top and pyjama bottoms she slept in were gone, though where she didn't know. That was all she had time to think before his teeth sank into the vein atop her left breast and three of his fingers sank into her barely moistening pussy. She gasped, hips shooting up, back arched, heels and hands digging into the mattress, head pressing into the pillows, neck exposed. He pistoned his hand without waiting for her to catch up, uncaring she was dry when he started.

Her body slammed back down onto the bed. The pain from his fingers sent sparks dancing before her eyes, stole her breath, and awakened the something deep inside her she'd only just put back on its leash. As she fought whatever it was rising inside her, he ripped his teeth from her, snarling. One word from him was her only warning: "Surrender."

That snarled mandate made her determined to fight, though it wasn't him she fought. Her hips still rose to the pounding beat of his hand, small gasps escaping her throat, milking his fingers for all she was worth. No, the one she fought was herself. She fought the monster waking, uncoiling inside her. If she surrendered to it, allowed it to merge with her as it wanted to do, she knew she would become a creature of chaos, wrecking havoc wherever she went.

She was wet now; she felt the moisture trickle down her crack to soak the sheet beneath her when he withdrew his hand. She whimpered and struggled to crack her eyelids. As they cracked open, she had the momentary impression of bared teeth and angry green eyes, then she was in her bed, in the dark, alone.

Shivering slightly, she noticed her window was open. Frowning, she sat up slowly, shoving her hair out of her face. Hand in her hair, she paused, eyes widening slightly. She never slept with her hair aloose; it was so curly, it would nearly develop dreadlocks overnight. Sighing, she shook back the thick mane as best she could, curls dancing halfway down her back, tickling skin. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she was up and halfway to the window before she realized she was as naked as her dream.

Eyes wide, she swung around, searching the floor for her pyjamas. They were nowhere to be seen. Heading back towards the bed, she dropped to the floor, probing the shadows under the bed, sweeping her hand beneath it in a frantic search. The chill of the floor and the caress of a breeze across her back recalled her to what she had been about.

Standing, she swept a small blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around herself, tying two corners behind her neck like a halter top. Walking to the window, she reached up to close it, wondering again why it was open. The cool breeze caressed her face, refreshing, yet cold enough to cause shivers. She closed her eyes briefly to enjoy the sensation.

That fast, he was back, behind her this time. Again there was no finesse, no gentleness. With an arm clamped about her waist, he placed his other hand at the back of her head and forced her to bend forward. She braced her hands on the window sill in a flash of defiance, but it seemed that had been his intention all along. She felt his hands at her neck, untying the knot of the blanket. Slowly, he pulled it off and to the side. The slide of the fabric against her skin was another type of caress. Still sensitive from his earlier presence, she whimpered with need.

"I was going to punish you. I was going to leave you writhing all night. Waiting for another year. Then I remembered I love you because you do fight. Because defiance is simply your nature. So I came back. To pleasure you, to pleasure me, and to let you fight, in vain though it may be. You are already mine, whether you will it or no."

The cool air had already tightened her nipples to the point of pain. He fondled her breasts gently, a direct contrast to his mood that night, and the only warning she had. The clamps were grooved with a myriad of small teeth, biting cruelly, once again sending the pain sparks dancing before her eyes. She came immediately, crying out slightly, rocking her hips involuntarily, moisture trickling down her thighs. His laughter echoed softly in her ear, low, sexy, and pleased.

"I told you. Mine. All mine." His voice enticed as he pinched her nipples cruelly, pulling on the ends peeking from the front of the clamps. The aftershocks rocked her strongly. Biting her lip, she tried to contain her whimpers, ashamed she could be so weak as to allow his manipulation. A low growl sounded in her left ear. "Surrender." Weakly she shook her head. Already the beast inside her was unfurling, stretching, seeking to merge with her. Fighting him was one thing, fighting the monster inside her another. To fight him, her monster, and her desires all at once was too much. She was wasting strength, stretching herself too thin. But to surrender on one front was now surrender on all fronts. As he had said, it was her nature to fight, to defy, and so she would, until he truly won his victory.

The growl sounded again, louder this time. Remembering he had disappeared when her eyes opened and her mind aware of the waking world, she struggled against the inclinations of her partially sated body, cracking her lids open. This time, something had changed. It took her a minute to realize that she still felt those wonderfully calloused hands on her skin, one gripping her hip hard enough to leave bruises, the other sweeping her hair over her shoulder to expose the nape of her neck. Another moment brought the realization that, somehow, sometime, she had been blindfolded.

"Not tonight, sweetheart. No escape, no quarter, no mercy. I have been the suitor, the lover, the mentor, and still you have not surrendered. No more illusions. Tonight you are still the warrior queen you mask form the world, but I am the conqueror. Tonight you will surrender fully, you will awaken, and you will acknowledge me as master of your body, heart, and mind." His teeth sank into her nape with calculated precision, keeping her still in the way a predator does its mate. He pressed into her, too fast for her comfort, but not quite fast enough to rip anything. He reached her hymen and paused. For a moment she felt something from him: a questioning that might have been confusion or wonder. In the next instant it was gone and he was tearing into her, a painful burning in his wake. She stared blindly into darkness, tears in her eyes. This was a different type of pain than any before, one she was glad she could never experience again.

He groaned in satisfaction at being fully sheathed in her wet heat, the vibration echoing down her spine. Something inside her sparked, caught fire. Rage filled her veins. She liked, even craved certain types of pain to varying degrees of intensity. She did not, however, like this, even in the remotest sense. The fire of her rage roared through her body, in her head, fused the monster to her soul, and united them inextricably. An angry growl sounded in her throat. She felt him still behind her, even as he remained buried to the hilt.

"How dare you? How fucking DARE you? Get OFF me, you bastard!" She pushed up using the window sill as leverage. Merging with her demon had given her strength enough to surprise him. He staggered back, sliding out of her in the process, losing his grip from the shock. Reaching up, she ripped off the blindfold, revealing eyes turned molten gold with red pupils shooting sparks. "I hurt, and not in a good way, and you stand there grunting and groaning like a pig!!" Her voice had risen to a shriek loud enough to be heard through the apartment walls. He stared down at her from a metre away, green eyes burning, face unreadable. His long, straight black hair fell over his shoulders and down his back to his waist like a curtain. A portion of her mind registered how good it had felt against her skin. But the rage still had ahold of her; she couldn't simply let it go.

He idly wondered if she had any idea how delicious she looked. How fuckable. How perfect. Her skin gleamed a creamy caramel in the moonlight, hair tousled, wild, and witchy, the rich red-brown of bitter chocolate. Her breasts swayed delicately with each breath, swollen from his fondling and the clamps still attached, the gold chain between them the only clothing on her body. His eyes strayed down to her neatly shaved and shaped pussy and saw the blood staining her thighs. He drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to leap on her and devour her in one swallow.

As she opened her mouth to yell again, he moved with a superhuman speed she'd somehow known he possessed. He covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, tongue plunging into her mouth only to gently stroke against hers. Her body moulded to his, but her mind continued raging. She gripped his tongue between her teeth, applying enough pressure that he stopped moving, waiting to see if she would bite off his tongue, effectively killing him by bleed-out. They waited there, held on the brink of interminable suspense. A bit more pressure and the taste of his blood swirled in both their mouths, rich, metallic, tangy.

He groaned into her mouth. She felt him jerk against her stomach, felt something hot splatter and cling to the undersides of her breasts. He had cum, despite the danger, the anger, the pain...or perhaps because of it. She smiled against his lips, sliding her teeth back off his tongue, tilting her head back as she went. She slid her right leg up over his, going onto tiptoe to wrap it around his waist. Her hands rose from her sides to grip his upper arms, caressing the muscles there lightly. She arched her back, offering her throbbing breasts, exposing her neck.

He was still hard against her stomach. Even as he bent head to suckle the side of her neck, he rubbed himself against her soft skin, savouring the slide the light sheen of sweat provided. She was wide open and her damp heat spread and caressed his balls and the underside of his rod, coating them in her honey, spreading her scent and the blood, and driving him into a frenzy. A hard jerk on the chain between her breasts had her crying out in a combination of pleasure and pain. One more hard jerk and she gasped breathlessly. He felt moisture flood his ball as she ground herself against him as she came. The pressure she exerted was almost painful, but he was long past caring. Bending his head further, he took her left nipple between his teeth, savaging it as she cried out. He smiled to himself. Her hands pushed at his head as though trying to push him away, while her hips thrust, desperately trying to force him into her.

Pulling back, he smiled cruelly. "You cannot have it both ways, my heart. You either want me, want my pain, or you do not. It is as simple as that." He wasn't sure she even understood. Her eyes were glazed with lust, her body moving involuntarily, seeking to tempt him to her. His smile deepened, sank into self-satisfaction and gratification. "You have surrendered. You are mine. Your pleasure and pain are mine to control."

He bent his head to ravage her other breast, yet just as he sank his fangs into the tender flesh of her nipple, he felt a pain, like a small, intense flame at the nape of his neck. He tried to jerk back and away, but found he couldn't. Carefully, he pulled his fangs from the delicate flesh he had them in, licking the drops of blood away apologetically. A groan vibrated through him from the same source as the burning in his neck. It moved through him, raising the lust that had just begun to fall, turning the pain into torturous pleasure.

Slowly, feeling for her reaction, he teased the nipple still in his mouth. Barely scraping with his teeth, he instead used his tongue to flog the tip. He shaped it, moulded it, took its measure with his lips and tongue. The burning pain in his neck died down as she slid her new fangs out of his spinal column. For the moment she still maintained a clamp on his nape, staking her mastery of him in the same way he had earlier done to her. There was no escape, and while a part of him seethed, another part of him was aroused to even greater heights by her continued determination to fight and triumph.

Using the steely biceps under hands as leverage, she brought her other leg up and around his waist, locking her ankles low, under his buttocks, raising herself slightly. The position did nothing to release the pressure on his nape, but everything to align their bodies so he could penetrate her. Her soft, dripping entrance teased the engorged head of his sword. He wanted nothing more than to thrust home. Yet if he took her like this, she would be in control of him, a circumstance he refused to allow.

Growling low in challenge, he once again sank his teeth into the soft skin of her breast, into the sensitive aureole around the erect nipple. His thought was to return her earlier threat. Her reaction was unexpected. Heat bathed his penis, lowly coating his length in her musky juices. She released her hold on his nape as she threw her head back in the ecstasy of release, hair flying, lashing his face as she rose, sinking down onto him as she did so. He throbbed once, twice, registering her velvet heat before his control disappeared. Growling ferociously, he lunged deeper even as he shot into her depths. She laughed wildly and milked him, pulling him deeper, enjoying the feel of heat bathing her insides.

They drifted slowly back to awareness. At some point they had collapsed onto the floor in a tangled heap. Through the still-open window, a cold wind blew, chilling their overheated skin. They were still joined together as the chime of the town hall's clock echoed lightly in the air. With effort she cracked open her eyes, tilting her head to look at her alarm clock. Midnight. The witching hour. Always before the end of her transformation to reality. Time to slip back into her social mask, her acceptable persona. Time to leash the beast as her true friends faded away for another year, leaving only mortals in their place. An odd thought that, and one that momentarily caught her attention. Then he opened his eyes and she was sinking into the mysteries hidden there. The beast in her stretched, yearning towards him as it would a mate.

"You still don't understand. This is the rebirth. An end to existence on this plane and a beginning to existence on the proper one." His voice was still slightly husky, as though lust lurked just below the surface. "You are my mate. I found you. I claimed you. You claimed me. And now you will stay with me." She could do nothing but shake her head. Surely this is where she would wake up. It had all become too strange too quickly.

He raised an eyebrow, patently superior. "When have you ever fit in this world? When have you easily made friends? When has anything people say or do made real sense to you? Why do you see things others don't, not just on Hallow's Eve, but all year? This is not your world, not your plane. You are a changeling child, put here as a gift to mankind. A gift, like so many others, ignored. And now you will return home as my love. My treasure. My gift."

The look she gave was an odd mix of disbelief and amusement. "Most people feel displaced. It's part of the human condition. I see things others don't because I look for them. And maybe because my imagination never quite dropped out of overdrive. And Bub, I don't belong to anyone but me and God, so get your head back to reality."

The last stroke of midnight sounded as she sat up, pushing her hair out of her face and looking for a band to put it in a ponytail. His chuckle vibrated against her thigh as he laid a kiss on it. "God may own your soul, but body, heart, and mind ARE mine." Darkness rose as her eyes widened. Her apartment faded.