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Barbara Anna Marjanovic

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One Night Stand
By Barbara Anna Marjanovic
Thursday, February 15, 2007

Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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Recent stories by Barbara Anna Marjanovic
· The Man at the Water
· The Balkan Secret Conspiracy - Chapter 1
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           >> View all 6

This one has you second guess about that innocent girl you met at the rave last night...

All he wanted was to taste her—taste her like he would a fresh fig, devour the juices and enjoy the ecstasy that came after the experience was over. That’s all he wanted. But Damian received more than he bargained for. She turned on him. She tasted him, and not like you would taste a fig, but like you would savor a rich, delectable filet mignon, done medium on a fire grill.

Damian met her at the rave that night—something he knew he was starting to get too old for. The dancing and partying were getting boring, the drugs were becoming and irritant now, and he just didn’t feel like being there anymore with his friends. He had enough. He’d be eighteen in a month, and would be going to college in the fall. This was his next step into manhood. But what the hell? What was one night of partying every now and then, and perhaps the occasional jump in the sack with a chick that was irresistible? Well, apparently it was more than he had expected.

She was gorgeous—an absolute knock-out. Dressed not too trashy with black tight pants, tight black tank and black thigh-high boots, she was eye candy to Damian’s eyes. Her jet black long hair tied in a pony tail waved back and forth to the rhythm of the music as she jumped up and down, enjoying the bodies that rubbed against hers. When he looked at her face, he saw her brilliant blue eyes lined in dark charcoal, mesmerizing all that looked at them. Her luminescent face shone with the dusting of sparkles.
That’s when their eyes met. She smiled back at him, he smiled back. Then it was like the world suddenly froze; she was in front of him. He didn’t remember how she got there, but she was there, not two feet away from him, staring at him with her beautiful brilliant eyes.

“Buy me a drink.” She said to him with her silky voice; Damian detected an accent, but what was it? Eastern European? Russian? He wasn’t quite sure. But he soon forgot his thoughts as she put her arms through his and led him to the make-shift bar.

“What would you like?” He asked.

“Whatever. No alcohol, though. It makes me crazy.” She smiled, revealing a canine that was slightly longer than the other. Damian could not get over how beautiful she was. And that smile, so white, so perfect, he just wanted to engulf her.

“What’ll it be?” The short blonde bartender hollered above the music. His long white shirt sleeves were rolled up over his elbows and his apron bore many signs of spilt drinks.

“Two cokes with ice.” Damian yelled. The bartender nodded in response and started building the easy drinks.

She was still staring at him. He didn’t think her eyes had even left him since they had moved from the dance floor, “So what’s your name?”

“Natalia.” The words rolled out of her mouth like a smooth stream.

“Natalia,” He repeated, “that’s a very beautiful name. You also have an accent—so did you move here from another country?”

“I’m an exchange student from Latvia. I will be going home next week. The family I’m staying with thought it would be good for me to go out.”

To a rave? Damian was a bit astonished. Why would they let her go out to a rave? They must be one of those people who are innocent of these types of parties. So much goes on here, smoking, drinking, drugs, and yes, even sex for those that are bold enough—but only a small handful of people actually got lucky. He did—once, and he found out that he was so high he had slept with a girl two years older than him. She was into crashing raves with her girlfriends, and picking up younger men. That’s why she targeted Damian. Luckily she was on the pill—all she wanted was a good time and sex. What did Damian care? He had never seen her again after that. She was off to bigger and better things, he supposed.

“So they allowed you to come here?”

“Yes. They even suggested it. They understood it as a dance,” She looked around herself, “but I see it is much more than that.” A small throaty giggle escaped her lips. Damian watched as she stirred her drink. He should have known something was different when she didn’t even take a sip of her drink, while he finished his off. Should have known. It’s funny how you always look back on things and wish that you had caught all of the signs.

“What do you think of our Canadian town?”

“Very quiet, but not as quiet as ours is. Latvia is very sensible, conservative. You dress expressively here, talk expressively here, and enjoy everything here. We conserve and save. That’s how it is over there.”

“Doesn’t sound like much fun,”

“No. It really isn’t.” Another smile,

“How about we go outside for a bit? It’s way too loud in here.”

That’s when he realized that they were shouting their conversation at each other for the past few minutes.

“Sure. You lead the way.” He left his coke by her unfinished glass.

Natalia walked in front of him, her body swaying like a reed. It was like he was watching the most beautiful movement of nature make a path for him towards the exit door.

When they made it to the door, the ticket handler stopped them, “You guys coming back?” He looked at them through his aviator sunglasses with an air of mistrust. He pushed them down his nose to look at them over the rims. The fellow had on a worn-out jean jacket and saggy jeans which showed the elastic of his Calvin Klein underwear which were pulled over a white undershirt, stained with sweat at his neck. The hairdo he wore didn’t make the picture any better—it was spiked with sparkles gleaming at the tips.

Bet this guy doesn’t get out often, Damian couldn’t help but stare at him. He couldn’t believe this guy’s parents actually let him out. He must have done the hairdo here and scammed some sparkles from a girl. What kind of a guy would put sparkles in his hair?

“Hey buddy,” the guy was obviously annoyed by Damian’s over-concentration on his hairdo and lack of answer to his question, “are you guys coming back in?” the annoyance threaded through his every word, “you need a stamp if you’re coming back, dude.” He emphasized it with a shake of his hand.

And he gave the guy his hand which he quickly stamped.

“And you, my lady, are you making your way back?” He was obviously nicer to her—but then again, she didn’t stare at his hair with distaste.

“No, I will be going home. Thank you,”
Bingo. Maybe he would be lucky that night.

They left the party, Damian was nervous. What would be expected of him from this hot Vixen? Was she going to be a tease or was she going to be more adventurous. He didn’t know what to expect. Certainly not what happened next.

She led him out the door, and then two buildings down, walking in the light of the street lamps which glowed eerily onto the pavement. He followed like a lost puppy, expecting a biscuit at the end of the journey. And what a biscuit it was.

Natalia turned into an alley and Damian followed. This was it; they were going to go all the way. He just knew it. He watched her sleek body from behind as he followed, step by step. The alleyway was dark, but he could still make out her form when she stopped halfway into the alley. Damian walked up to her, and when he was only a foot away, she grabbed him ravenously in an embrace and kissed him feverishly.

He felt every part of his body light on fire. What was this feeling that rushed through Damian as her cool lips pressed against his? Whatever it was, it felt good. Damian grabbed her arms in his hands—they were also cool to the touch—cool and smooth. Like alabaster. That was the word that rang in his mind as the electrostatic heat he was feeling ran through every inch of his body and into his loins.

She walked backwards, going further into the alley and prompted Damian to come with her, and he did. They stopped after a good two yards, still kissing, still ravaging each other. The darkness of the deep part of the alley completely covered them now. He couldn’t even make her out any more, but he could definitely feel her.

Damian began to pull down the straps of her tank. Cool, cool, very cool skin, but yet, he could still feel that electric sensation go through his body. She gave little resistance to him, even moaned at the movement. He pulled the shirt all the way down. She wasn’t wearing a bra. It was as if she was prepared for this night, and Damian was going to take advantage of it.
As he made his way down her shoulders with his hands—he wanted to excite her, really get her going, she stopped him with her own hands, “Not so quick,” She rasped, “we have time, Damian.”
How did she know his name? Damian was sure he didn’t tell her his name. Positive. But what did that matter, especially when he was getting what he wanted? He watched a smile curl onto her lips as he finished his thought. Could she read his mind? No. Impossible. That only happened in the movies.

He began to kiss her neck then, tasting her cool skin. No sweat, just straight perfume, pure sweetness.

Again he was thwarted—Natalia maneuvered her head away from him, becoming the dominant seducer, kissing his neck with the softness of her full lips. Oh how he would let her be the Dominatrix. He could visualize her in a tight, ultra high-gloss latex cat-suit with 4-inch spiked heels. Damian swooned at her velvety touches. Slowly, she went down his cheek to his neck, to his collar, and then…

Then the pain came.

An animal tearing at his neck—that’s what it felt like. Natalia was biting him—biting like an animal. The shear pain pulsated through his veins. A scream burst out of his vocal cords to which Natalia responded by coming down harder on his neck. He tried to force her away, push her as hard as he could, but it didn’t make any difference. She had overpowered him. How? He didn’t know. Her strength was overwhelming—a beautiful being which was not human, a leech of unknown capacity. Yes, a leech. That’s what it felt like. Damian could feel the blood rushing to where Natalia had bitten and held onto him. The blood from his body was being sucked right out of him and into her.

What was she?


Maybe. He was much too weak, much to disorientated to argue. Damian began to see lights above him; a big bright light. Within that light, a shape formed—the shape of a man. This man, held out his hand and called, “Damian, come with me. Come to this world. Be free, be innocent, let me take you away from the pain and forgive all that has been done.”

Both his arms were weak, but he tried to lift them, to take this man of light’s hand. Anything would be better than this. Anything.

The light shone and brightened the alleyway, revealing what actually was latched onto his collar. Her beautiful black hair still was perfect in its tail, and the rest of her still was in beautiful form except for the blood which now caked her shoulders—his blood. She lifted her head and looked up at the light in much distress.

“Damn you! This one is mine! He will stay here! You will not save him, just like you did not save me!”

Her face revealed the true nature of the demon within her. Her eyes were now the color of ice—pure, bright and evil. Fags protruded from her mouth, both on her upper and lower jaw. Blood dripped from these fangs, and caked her mouth, chin and nose. It was like looking at a dog that had not eaten in days and suddenly immersed itself into the food left for it; bits and pieces of the meal dotting its face. The paleness of her face and body were no more, they had been replaced instead by a slight flush which covered skin from the new blood which had entered her body. It was as if she had transferred the life from Damian to her. An animal that required the blood of humans to live and look like a human. Was that what she was? Damian was not sure any longer, all he wanted was to be in the light and away from her, but he could not move. Not at all.

This weakness was what Natalia needed. She needed him, and she would not give this life to the One Above. No. He couldn’t save her, and she would not allow Him to save Damian. It would be her revenge, just like all the others were.

Balancing his body in one arm, she revealed the claw-like nails on her other hand. With the nail of her index finger, she made an incision on her neck. Blood began to trickle from the cut and down to her chest. Leaning closer to Damian, placing the incision close to his mouth she said, “Drink, Damian, this way, we will be as one, forever.”

Without understanding it, Damian felt drawn to the blood oozing from the cut, an alcoholic to his liquor. That’s what he was. Though he did not have the taste of this blood—an idea which in other times would have made him ill for days—he wanted it. In fact, he was ready to die for it. He leaned forward, his lips drawn towards the cut, his body wanting it, yearning, aching.

“No! Not this one! No!” Yelled the figure from above. But he was too late. Damian had taken the first taste.

Yes. He had tasted it. The ache subsided, but the yearning increased. All he could think of was taking more. More is what he wanted, nothing less, and he drank and drank, all the while, hearing the screams from Natalia as she felt the life being drained from her.

She pushed him away violently, “No more! That is enough! I will not allow you to kill me. Without me you will starve, not die, but starve. Listen and listen well for all that I tell you, now you will need to know in order to endure the next few years of your life and to live for the many years hereinafter.

The light faded, and darkness consumed them and there began life were death had begun.

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Reviewed by Mark Chevalier 3/26/2008
I loved the way you let me visualize the scene, and ponder the origins of the man. Cudos on an excellent piece.
Reviewed by michelle noble 8/18/2007
good lord loved it you should add more i think like uh what she taught him and stuff but then thats all up to you. i love vampire stories and this one wow
Reviewed by Nickolaus Pacione 4/1/2007
Barbara, this is one of your best short stories to date. Chilling as hell take on the vampire mythos. I am surprised you haven't shopped this one around yet -- send it to Tales of the Talisman since David Lee Summers was on issue two with you on my mag.

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