The Terror At Sunshine Hill ~ page 1
Sunshine Hill, Texas - 1874
The town was quiet; the streets nearly dark save for the scant lamplight coming from the saloon windows. It was late, past midnight, but that didn't stop the gamblers, cattle hands, and miners from drinking away their earnings in the local saloon. And where there was the hard earned money of the locals, there were prostitutes, all eager to earn a buck and make a man's dreams come true, at least until his fantasy betrayed him when their time together was done.
In was in the saloon that a lone man sat in a quiet corner, watching the night's revelries occur. He appeared utterly bored with the festivities, a half empty glass of whiskey sitting on the table before him. He took slow, languid draws off of the rolled cigarette between his lips, only exhaling after it seemed that he could gain no further satisfaction from the taste of the tobacco.
Despite the night's revelries, the town had seen better days. Something dark had come to Sunshine Hill, and ever since it's arrival, nothing had quite been the same. It had started four weeks earlier when a miner had been found in the nearby canyon, his neck twisted completely around and his flesh as pale and as dry as a corpse that had set in the sun for weeks. The worker had been reported missing less than a day before his body was found, and the local doctor had a hard time pinpointing the cause of death.
Then, a week later, the town's sheriff had been found hung from the rafters in his barn, dangling from a stretch of rope only a few feet long. His wife had been beside herself in her grief, and unable to understand why a man so happy with life would decide to end it. What was more curious was that the barn was two floors in height, and that he was hanging in the absolute center of the barn, with no ladder or other means of reaching such a height readily apparent.
The townsfolk had tried to get back to their normal lives, but talk had begun among the saloon's patrons and the ordinary citizens. There was talk of shutting down the mines, but it had been quickly squashed by the mine's foreman. There was work to do, and whatever was happening would stop, sooner or later, but there was always silver to be pulled from the rock.
The lone figure in the tavern's corner chuckled at the town's initial reactions. He had disposed of the sherrif for pragmatic concerns. Any law men around would only get in the way of his fun, and the miner's death, while it had been sloppy, had served a purpose. It had incited fear, a cold and gripping fear in the hearts of the locals, and the blood tasted so much better when it was marinated in a stomach-clenching terror. To the vampire, there was no sweeter brew.
The town was quiet; the streets nearly dark save for the scant lamplight coming from the saloon windows. It was late, past midnight, but that didn't stop the gamblers, cattle hands, and miners from drinking away their earnings in the local saloon. And where there was the hard earned money of the locals, there were prostitutes, all eager to earn a buck and make a man's dreams come true, at least until his fantasy betrayed him when their time together was done.
In was in the saloon that a lone man sat in a quiet corner, watching the night's revelries occur. He appeared utterly bored with the festivities, a half empty glass of whiskey sitting on the table before him. He took slow, languid draws off of the rolled cigarette between his lips, only exhaling after it seemed that he could gain no further satisfaction from the taste of the tobacco.
Despite the night's revelries, the town had seen better days. Something dark had come to Sunshine Hill, and ever since it's arrival, nothing had quite been the same. It had started four weeks earlier when a miner had been found in the nearby canyon, his neck twisted completely around and his flesh as pale and as dry as a corpse that had set in the sun for weeks. The worker had been reported missing less than a day before his body was found, and the local doctor had a hard time pinpointing the cause of death.
Then, a week later, the town's sheriff had been found hung from the rafters in his barn, dangling from a stretch of rope only a few feet long. His wife had been beside herself in her grief, and unable to understand why a man so happy with life would decide to end it. What was more curious was that the barn was two floors in height, and that he was hanging in the absolute center of the barn, with no ladder or other means of reaching such a height readily apparent.
The townsfolk had tried to get back to their normal lives, but talk had begun among the saloon's patrons and the ordinary citizens. There was talk of shutting down the mines, but it had been quickly squashed by the mine's foreman. There was work to do, and whatever was happening would stop, sooner or later, but there was always silver to be pulled from the rock.
The lone figure in the tavern's corner chuckled at the town's initial reactions. He had disposed of the sherrif for pragmatic concerns. Any law men around would only get in the way of his fun, and the miner's death, while it had been sloppy, had served a purpose. It had incited fear, a cold and gripping fear in the hearts of the locals, and the blood tasted so much better when it was marinated in a stomach-clenching terror. To the vampire, there was no sweeter brew.
Chooli
was going about her morning rituals as she usually did with rising with the
sun. She headed for the river close to the village to take her morning bath.
Something she even did in winter. Other women soon joined her on the same trek.
It was a time the woman could all talk together, with no pressing chores to
claim most of their attention. And more importantly, no men would interrupt.
And every woman enjoyed this time first thing in the day.
Chooli soon neared the water’s edge and began disrobing. Folding her clothes carefully, she set them on a rock nearby and stepped in the cool water. The women’s chatter rising up around her, much like the water as she stepped further in. Some said hello to her, and she was proper and responded in kind, even if a bit hollowly. Soon she was left to herself as she had been the past three moon dances since the loss of her husband and children. The women sympathized and gave her space to morn. Many understood what she was going through.
She soon had herself immersed in the river. Briefly she thought about just staying under, ending the pain of the loss. Instead she rose up and stepped back to the edge of the river and grabbed her washing supplies. She took her time washing herself and then immersed herself once more, rinsing. She then exited the water completely and found a small boulder to sit on in the sun to dry. Other women around her were doing the same, the chatter continuing. Chooli paid it no mind, letting it become background noise as she closed her eyes and relived memories.
Eventually dry, she dressed and headed back to the village. Since the death of her family from the white man disease, she had taken to helping others with needed things. In exchange, she was given a bit of meat to help her along since she no longer had a husband to hunt for her. As well as other needed things from the animals that was used. On her way to help her friend, Yanaba, she was stopped by one of the tribal Elders. “Chooli, dear child, have you thought on what we have discussed?”
Chooli gave an inward sigh. Every day now for the past moon dance, the tribal Elders had been pushing for her to remarry. She didn’t want too; it felt like a betrayal to her family and their memory. “Yes, Elder, and my answer is still the same.”
The Elder made a slight, exasperated sound. “Chooli, you need a husband. Someone to provide for you, and give you more children. This has--”
He is cut off as she walks away suddenly. It is rude and ill-mannered to treat an Elder such, but it was better that then say what she was about to. She hurried to Yanaba’s lodge. Scratching on the side she then entered. Yanaba looked up and gave her a kind smile, that quickly disappeared at the stormy look on her friend’s face. “Which Elder was it this time?”
Chooli actually smiled at Yanaba’s question. Their friendship ran deep, neither had to explain overly much to the other. “Honani.” She released the sigh she couldn’t with the Elder and then sat next to her friend. She shook her head. “I wish they’d just stop. I do not want to remarry.”
Yanaba clucked. “They’re just looking out for you. You’ll have to eventually you know. But not today. Shall we get to work?”
Chooli nodded at both her comments and her question. They spent the morning gathering herbs, wild vegetables, nuts and berries. Then the afternoon was spent tanning hides, making sewing needles. Bowls and other needed things the family needed. They chatted idly about many things. Finally, the time came for Chooli to head back to her own lodge. She bid her friend a good night and made the short trek to her lodge.
When she drew closer she saw that not only was Honani there, but so were two other Elders. They hadn’t seen her yet, and she made an abrupt turn behind another lodge and swiftly moved out of the village. She really didn’t want to be forced into something she just wasn;t ready for, and with now three Elders come to talk to her, it would be only a matter of time before she caved in.
Soon she was well out from the village, and she slowed to wander. She’d grown up here all her life, so she wasn’t worried about getting lost. Her feet would find their way home. So, she let her mind wander back into the past once more, paying no attention to her surroundings. She never noticed that dark was closing in on the day.
Chooli soon neared the water’s edge and began disrobing. Folding her clothes carefully, she set them on a rock nearby and stepped in the cool water. The women’s chatter rising up around her, much like the water as she stepped further in. Some said hello to her, and she was proper and responded in kind, even if a bit hollowly. Soon she was left to herself as she had been the past three moon dances since the loss of her husband and children. The women sympathized and gave her space to morn. Many understood what she was going through.
She soon had herself immersed in the river. Briefly she thought about just staying under, ending the pain of the loss. Instead she rose up and stepped back to the edge of the river and grabbed her washing supplies. She took her time washing herself and then immersed herself once more, rinsing. She then exited the water completely and found a small boulder to sit on in the sun to dry. Other women around her were doing the same, the chatter continuing. Chooli paid it no mind, letting it become background noise as she closed her eyes and relived memories.
Eventually dry, she dressed and headed back to the village. Since the death of her family from the white man disease, she had taken to helping others with needed things. In exchange, she was given a bit of meat to help her along since she no longer had a husband to hunt for her. As well as other needed things from the animals that was used. On her way to help her friend, Yanaba, she was stopped by one of the tribal Elders. “Chooli, dear child, have you thought on what we have discussed?”
Chooli gave an inward sigh. Every day now for the past moon dance, the tribal Elders had been pushing for her to remarry. She didn’t want too; it felt like a betrayal to her family and their memory. “Yes, Elder, and my answer is still the same.”
The Elder made a slight, exasperated sound. “Chooli, you need a husband. Someone to provide for you, and give you more children. This has--”
He is cut off as she walks away suddenly. It is rude and ill-mannered to treat an Elder such, but it was better that then say what she was about to. She hurried to Yanaba’s lodge. Scratching on the side she then entered. Yanaba looked up and gave her a kind smile, that quickly disappeared at the stormy look on her friend’s face. “Which Elder was it this time?”
Chooli actually smiled at Yanaba’s question. Their friendship ran deep, neither had to explain overly much to the other. “Honani.” She released the sigh she couldn’t with the Elder and then sat next to her friend. She shook her head. “I wish they’d just stop. I do not want to remarry.”
Yanaba clucked. “They’re just looking out for you. You’ll have to eventually you know. But not today. Shall we get to work?”
Chooli nodded at both her comments and her question. They spent the morning gathering herbs, wild vegetables, nuts and berries. Then the afternoon was spent tanning hides, making sewing needles. Bowls and other needed things the family needed. They chatted idly about many things. Finally, the time came for Chooli to head back to her own lodge. She bid her friend a good night and made the short trek to her lodge.
When she drew closer she saw that not only was Honani there, but so were two other Elders. They hadn’t seen her yet, and she made an abrupt turn behind another lodge and swiftly moved out of the village. She really didn’t want to be forced into something she just wasn;t ready for, and with now three Elders come to talk to her, it would be only a matter of time before she caved in.
Soon she was well out from the village, and she slowed to wander. She’d grown up here all her life, so she wasn’t worried about getting lost. Her feet would find their way home. So, she let her mind wander back into the past once more, paying no attention to her surroundings. She never noticed that dark was closing in on the day.
Soon
enough, the saloon and its inhabitants became a fruitless venture for the
vampire. There were simply too many about for him to go about undetected. He
toyed with the idea of taking Jasmine upstairs again, feeding from her while
enjoying the pleasures her body was all too ready to offer, but he shook his
head as soon as the idea came. He wanted something different tonight, something
exotic, something more enticing than these simple townsfolk.
Sighing, he stood from the table he'd been solely occupying, and exited the saloon. The darkness soon enveloped him like the welcoming arms of a cold lover, offering him the succor of silence and the convenience of camouflaging his movements. He was a secret killer, one that often struck from the shadows, or seduced his victim into a secluded area, and the darkness was his friend. His wandering footsteps took him away from the town, and into the surrounding foothills.
The moonlight was scarce this evening, and there was a slight buzzing in the air from the cacophony of nighttime insects and hunting wildlife. The vampire's keen hearing caught the silent wing beats of bats overhead, the quiet slithering of copperheads in the valley below, and the gentle, padded footfalls of a coyote stalking a hare. The sounds were welcoming, those of predators as effective as he himself. He felt one with the night, and comfortable in a way that no breathing man ever could.
Just then, a strange scent caught his nostrils, making them flare as he focused in on the source of the subtle odor. After a moment's study, he smiled, realizing what could cause such an innocent aroma...it was a human woman, but not of the town of Sunshine Hill. No, the woman was an Indian, one of the local tribes, and even better, she was alone. The vampire didn't stop to ponder the circumstances of such a turn of fortune, rather going into a crouch to study his surroundings. His eyes easily adjusted to the gloom, and it was there, at the base of the sloping valley, that the woman walked. As he had thought, she was alone, and even better for him, she was alone.
The vampire grinned, and began quietly making his way toward her, his fangs lengthening in readiness.
Some sixth sense brought Chooli out of her memories and she paused and looked around. She could hear the night time noises of those who came out at night, the four footed brothers and sisters of the night, the winged cousins. Nothing was out of place that she could tell. Finally she shook herself and chastised herself for jumping at shadows. She turned back towards the village, but paused right after. She wasn’t really ready to head back. There was peace out here away from the village, away from the prying Elders, even away from the understanding sympathy of the tribe as a whole.
Finally, she decides to sit on a nearby boulder. Enough time hadn’t passed yet for the Elders to grow disgruntled enough to leave their vigil at her lodge. So she decided to wait them out a bit longer. Besides the peace found out here soothed her wounded soul and she really didn’t want to loose that just yet. She leaned back slightly and looked up at the stars, a soft, bitter sweet smile on her lips as she remembered her and her mate looking up at the same bright points in the velvety blackness their first night of joining. Her mind wandered back into the past once more.
The lone figure walked down the winding path that led to the gully below. His dark eyes pierced the darkness with the supernatural acuity of a creature born in the gloom. His senses were sharp; every sound, every scent, every brief touch of night air upon his body was heard, smelled and felt with such magnification it was as if he had been moving about in amber when he were still a living, breathing man.
As he neared the woman, he smiled, only then letting his footsteps be heard. He was but a few paces from her when he did so, no doubt making her jump at another being so very close to her. He kept his stance neutral and unthreatening, however, his hands at his sides and his dark fedora cocked to one side as if naturally so. He smiled, his incisors hidden behind his upper lip, the vampire offering her a polite nod in greeting.
"It's not wise to be out alone at night, darlin'..." he said, a sly grin on his face. "There are critters out in these parts that'd love to make a meal outta you."
He was dressed in a dark, loose fitting shirt with a thin leather vest atop it, open at the front and lined with tarnished silver buttons. His shirt was unbuttoned to his abdomen, showing his smooth, pale chest, his flesh seemingly adorned with the various leather straps dangling with rings, small amulets, and other esoteric bits of jewelry. A gun belt sat crookedly on his waist, and thin rawhide pants covered his legs, tucked into a pair of dark leather boots. He was every part the cowboy that one expected to see in these parts, right down to the cocky grin pursing his thin lips.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked, moving a step closer to her. "You speak the white man's tongue?"
Chooli jerked in surprise at the sound of footsteps, nearly toppling off the boulder. With an odd twisting and turning she manages to keep herself from hitting the dirt. She blinks thinking at first that the Elders spotted her after all and chased her out into the wild. The voice speaking quickly dispelled that misgiving. It wasn’t Kiowa, and it didn’t speak Kiowa. She looked and finally spotted the Pale Face. She skittered back slightly, ready to bolt as the stranger took a step towards her still talking.
She didn’t understand most of what he said, catching alone, night, meal, you, name, and white man tongue. She frowned while figuring out the first four words, basically figuring he thought her alone could be a meal to something. She dismissed it as irrelevant though and looked at him warily before finally replying. “Chooli. Little white man tongue.” She continued her study of him from head to foot, ready to run at the slightest provocation.
The vampire grinned, a cheshire smile that barely concealed the tips of his fangs. "Why come out alone, I wonder?" he asked, though more to himself as she didn't seem to have much of a grasp on the english tongue. He ran a hand over his goatee, studying her quietly. "Are you tribeless? Or do you just like making things easy for me?"
He chuckled at his own comment, taking another subtle step toward her, dreaming of having her in his arms while his fangs sunk into her flesh. But unlike the predators that he shared the night with, he was a seducer, using his natural charm to work his way close before he struck. But with the skittish demeanor of the woman, he had to be patient, lest he scare her into fleeing. That just wouldn't do...yet.
"What is your name, beauty?" he asked. He tapped his chest, before speaking his own name. "Jeremiah Whitaker."
Again he uses the word alone and a new word she recognizes, tribeless. She shakes her head. “No tribeless.” She may have no family left, but she did still have the tribe. She jumped slightly at his chuckle and nearly bolted, even started to slide her foot off the boulder, but for some reason she held her ground. The Pale Face was different from those she normally saw. She hadn’t much contact with them, unless one wandered into the village. They were always a source of curiosity, looking so strange and different.
She noted his slight move towards her, not really much, but it made her eyes narrow. She moved back further, placing her foot solidly on the ground while the other rested bent, ready to push her off and run if he got any closer. When he asked her name once more, she gave a strange sound of exasperation. Was he sun kissed maybe? Or did he just not understand her name? "Chooli." This time she stressed her name, like speaking to one who was slow to comprehend and understand.
"Chooli..." he replied, as if tasting her name on his lips. After a moment, he smiled, and gave her a playful wink. "Do you need an escort back to your tribe?" he asked. "I just wouldn't feel right leaving a pretty thing like yourself all alone out here in the wilds. There are dangerous critters out and about. What do you say, darlin'?"
He held his ground, though the desire to move closer was hard to resist. He could see she was still nervous and uneasy, like a prey animal sensing a wolf's presence. He rested his hands on his hips, one hip cocked to the side, his outward demeanor calm and unassuming, whilst inside, he was struggling to retain control of his bloodlust. Her heart beat in his sensitive ears, and her fear, coupled with her natural scent, was threatening to drive him wild.
She started to respond to his smile, but froze. While pleased he’d finally understood her name, she wasn’t about to become dear friends with the Pale Face. The wink made her tilt her head at him. She tensed as he moved his hands, but relaxed just slightly when they came to rest on his hips. She understood back and tribe, as well as alone and here. She shook her head. Enough time still hadn’t lapsed to head back, but she didn’t know about staying out here with the man. “I ok. I home. You go. I ok.” She gave him a stiff smile, trying to be polite and hoping he’d understand and go on about his way.
Whitaker grinned, then nodded. "Very well..." he said, stepping back. He turned, as if to go, then suddenly disappeared. He didn't fade away, however. His preternatural speed was such that he sped off faster than her eyes could see, making it seem as though he had never been there to begin with.
The vampire circled around, his body curling up beneath the boulder she perched upon. At the unnatural angle he stood, it was nearly impossible for him to remain upright, but his body was rigid unyeilding. He remained there, hidden in the darkness, waiting for her to move from the large rock. When she did, he would strike. The vampire licked his lips in anticipation of any movement.
Chooli blinks in shock at how quickly Jeremiah Whitaker disappeared. Had she been speaking to a ghost? A shiver runs through her at the thought. The spirits of the deceased could be very dangerous if they chose. She relaxed and resettled herself on the boulder, rethinking the meeting. He’d seemed very alive, but then spirits could do that too if they wanted to fool the living. What didn’t make sense was that a Pale Face would appear to her. Unless… maybe he had died somewhere close by? Finally sighing in exasperation, she shakes her head. She was no Medicine Woman and such knowledge was beyond her really.
Looking about, she realizes enough time has passed and she should return home. She slides off the boulder in the direction the ghost had been. She pauses once her feet hit the ground. Should she pass through where the spirit had stood? With a soft sound of disgust, she finally moves. What did it matter? The spirit was gone anyway.
Whitaker didn't have to wait long for Chooli to move. When she did, her bare feet lightly touching the ground, the vampire moved. He moved quickly and quietly, and with but a few fast steps, he closed the gap between them. Arms as strong as iron wrapped around her slender frame, and he hissed a haunting laughter, his breath hot on her neck.
"I tried to tell you..." he said, his voice little more than a whisper. "The night is dangerous. And now, you will know the truth of just how dangerous it can be."
Without waiting for a reply, his fangs sunk into her flesh, his lips wrapping around the wound so as not to spill a drop of her precious blood. He drank deeply, savoring the warm, thick gush that spilled into his mouth, and began to slide down his throat. He moaned at the pure ecstasy of the feeding, though he knew for her, its intensity would be tenfold.
How long he drank from her, he didn't know. He only stopped when he heard her heart begin to slow, straining to pump blood to replace what was taken. He pulled back with a loud hiss, gasping for air, and swooning under the heady rush of blood coursing through his body. He managed to maintain his hold on Chooli, though only just barely, his mind swimming with images of the native woman's past.
He caught that her husband and child had died, lost to the sickness brought by the White Man. He sensed her unease when pressured by her tribe's elders about remarrying, and he felt her grief and loss at losing her family. When the images began to fade, he stood there, holding the woman, breathing deeply to calm the swirling torrents of his thoughts.
"Sweet Chooli..." he said, one hand rising to caress her hair. "You've lost so much in your life. Such pain should never be known to one of the living."
Sighing, he stood from the table he'd been solely occupying, and exited the saloon. The darkness soon enveloped him like the welcoming arms of a cold lover, offering him the succor of silence and the convenience of camouflaging his movements. He was a secret killer, one that often struck from the shadows, or seduced his victim into a secluded area, and the darkness was his friend. His wandering footsteps took him away from the town, and into the surrounding foothills.
The moonlight was scarce this evening, and there was a slight buzzing in the air from the cacophony of nighttime insects and hunting wildlife. The vampire's keen hearing caught the silent wing beats of bats overhead, the quiet slithering of copperheads in the valley below, and the gentle, padded footfalls of a coyote stalking a hare. The sounds were welcoming, those of predators as effective as he himself. He felt one with the night, and comfortable in a way that no breathing man ever could.
Just then, a strange scent caught his nostrils, making them flare as he focused in on the source of the subtle odor. After a moment's study, he smiled, realizing what could cause such an innocent aroma...it was a human woman, but not of the town of Sunshine Hill. No, the woman was an Indian, one of the local tribes, and even better, she was alone. The vampire didn't stop to ponder the circumstances of such a turn of fortune, rather going into a crouch to study his surroundings. His eyes easily adjusted to the gloom, and it was there, at the base of the sloping valley, that the woman walked. As he had thought, she was alone, and even better for him, she was alone.
The vampire grinned, and began quietly making his way toward her, his fangs lengthening in readiness.
Some sixth sense brought Chooli out of her memories and she paused and looked around. She could hear the night time noises of those who came out at night, the four footed brothers and sisters of the night, the winged cousins. Nothing was out of place that she could tell. Finally she shook herself and chastised herself for jumping at shadows. She turned back towards the village, but paused right after. She wasn’t really ready to head back. There was peace out here away from the village, away from the prying Elders, even away from the understanding sympathy of the tribe as a whole.
Finally, she decides to sit on a nearby boulder. Enough time hadn’t passed yet for the Elders to grow disgruntled enough to leave their vigil at her lodge. So she decided to wait them out a bit longer. Besides the peace found out here soothed her wounded soul and she really didn’t want to loose that just yet. She leaned back slightly and looked up at the stars, a soft, bitter sweet smile on her lips as she remembered her and her mate looking up at the same bright points in the velvety blackness their first night of joining. Her mind wandered back into the past once more.
The lone figure walked down the winding path that led to the gully below. His dark eyes pierced the darkness with the supernatural acuity of a creature born in the gloom. His senses were sharp; every sound, every scent, every brief touch of night air upon his body was heard, smelled and felt with such magnification it was as if he had been moving about in amber when he were still a living, breathing man.
As he neared the woman, he smiled, only then letting his footsteps be heard. He was but a few paces from her when he did so, no doubt making her jump at another being so very close to her. He kept his stance neutral and unthreatening, however, his hands at his sides and his dark fedora cocked to one side as if naturally so. He smiled, his incisors hidden behind his upper lip, the vampire offering her a polite nod in greeting.
"It's not wise to be out alone at night, darlin'..." he said, a sly grin on his face. "There are critters out in these parts that'd love to make a meal outta you."
He was dressed in a dark, loose fitting shirt with a thin leather vest atop it, open at the front and lined with tarnished silver buttons. His shirt was unbuttoned to his abdomen, showing his smooth, pale chest, his flesh seemingly adorned with the various leather straps dangling with rings, small amulets, and other esoteric bits of jewelry. A gun belt sat crookedly on his waist, and thin rawhide pants covered his legs, tucked into a pair of dark leather boots. He was every part the cowboy that one expected to see in these parts, right down to the cocky grin pursing his thin lips.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked, moving a step closer to her. "You speak the white man's tongue?"
Chooli jerked in surprise at the sound of footsteps, nearly toppling off the boulder. With an odd twisting and turning she manages to keep herself from hitting the dirt. She blinks thinking at first that the Elders spotted her after all and chased her out into the wild. The voice speaking quickly dispelled that misgiving. It wasn’t Kiowa, and it didn’t speak Kiowa. She looked and finally spotted the Pale Face. She skittered back slightly, ready to bolt as the stranger took a step towards her still talking.
She didn’t understand most of what he said, catching alone, night, meal, you, name, and white man tongue. She frowned while figuring out the first four words, basically figuring he thought her alone could be a meal to something. She dismissed it as irrelevant though and looked at him warily before finally replying. “Chooli. Little white man tongue.” She continued her study of him from head to foot, ready to run at the slightest provocation.
The vampire grinned, a cheshire smile that barely concealed the tips of his fangs. "Why come out alone, I wonder?" he asked, though more to himself as she didn't seem to have much of a grasp on the english tongue. He ran a hand over his goatee, studying her quietly. "Are you tribeless? Or do you just like making things easy for me?"
He chuckled at his own comment, taking another subtle step toward her, dreaming of having her in his arms while his fangs sunk into her flesh. But unlike the predators that he shared the night with, he was a seducer, using his natural charm to work his way close before he struck. But with the skittish demeanor of the woman, he had to be patient, lest he scare her into fleeing. That just wouldn't do...yet.
"What is your name, beauty?" he asked. He tapped his chest, before speaking his own name. "Jeremiah Whitaker."
Again he uses the word alone and a new word she recognizes, tribeless. She shakes her head. “No tribeless.” She may have no family left, but she did still have the tribe. She jumped slightly at his chuckle and nearly bolted, even started to slide her foot off the boulder, but for some reason she held her ground. The Pale Face was different from those she normally saw. She hadn’t much contact with them, unless one wandered into the village. They were always a source of curiosity, looking so strange and different.
She noted his slight move towards her, not really much, but it made her eyes narrow. She moved back further, placing her foot solidly on the ground while the other rested bent, ready to push her off and run if he got any closer. When he asked her name once more, she gave a strange sound of exasperation. Was he sun kissed maybe? Or did he just not understand her name? "Chooli." This time she stressed her name, like speaking to one who was slow to comprehend and understand.
"Chooli..." he replied, as if tasting her name on his lips. After a moment, he smiled, and gave her a playful wink. "Do you need an escort back to your tribe?" he asked. "I just wouldn't feel right leaving a pretty thing like yourself all alone out here in the wilds. There are dangerous critters out and about. What do you say, darlin'?"
He held his ground, though the desire to move closer was hard to resist. He could see she was still nervous and uneasy, like a prey animal sensing a wolf's presence. He rested his hands on his hips, one hip cocked to the side, his outward demeanor calm and unassuming, whilst inside, he was struggling to retain control of his bloodlust. Her heart beat in his sensitive ears, and her fear, coupled with her natural scent, was threatening to drive him wild.
She started to respond to his smile, but froze. While pleased he’d finally understood her name, she wasn’t about to become dear friends with the Pale Face. The wink made her tilt her head at him. She tensed as he moved his hands, but relaxed just slightly when they came to rest on his hips. She understood back and tribe, as well as alone and here. She shook her head. Enough time still hadn’t lapsed to head back, but she didn’t know about staying out here with the man. “I ok. I home. You go. I ok.” She gave him a stiff smile, trying to be polite and hoping he’d understand and go on about his way.
Whitaker grinned, then nodded. "Very well..." he said, stepping back. He turned, as if to go, then suddenly disappeared. He didn't fade away, however. His preternatural speed was such that he sped off faster than her eyes could see, making it seem as though he had never been there to begin with.
The vampire circled around, his body curling up beneath the boulder she perched upon. At the unnatural angle he stood, it was nearly impossible for him to remain upright, but his body was rigid unyeilding. He remained there, hidden in the darkness, waiting for her to move from the large rock. When she did, he would strike. The vampire licked his lips in anticipation of any movement.
Chooli blinks in shock at how quickly Jeremiah Whitaker disappeared. Had she been speaking to a ghost? A shiver runs through her at the thought. The spirits of the deceased could be very dangerous if they chose. She relaxed and resettled herself on the boulder, rethinking the meeting. He’d seemed very alive, but then spirits could do that too if they wanted to fool the living. What didn’t make sense was that a Pale Face would appear to her. Unless… maybe he had died somewhere close by? Finally sighing in exasperation, she shakes her head. She was no Medicine Woman and such knowledge was beyond her really.
Looking about, she realizes enough time has passed and she should return home. She slides off the boulder in the direction the ghost had been. She pauses once her feet hit the ground. Should she pass through where the spirit had stood? With a soft sound of disgust, she finally moves. What did it matter? The spirit was gone anyway.
Whitaker didn't have to wait long for Chooli to move. When she did, her bare feet lightly touching the ground, the vampire moved. He moved quickly and quietly, and with but a few fast steps, he closed the gap between them. Arms as strong as iron wrapped around her slender frame, and he hissed a haunting laughter, his breath hot on her neck.
"I tried to tell you..." he said, his voice little more than a whisper. "The night is dangerous. And now, you will know the truth of just how dangerous it can be."
Without waiting for a reply, his fangs sunk into her flesh, his lips wrapping around the wound so as not to spill a drop of her precious blood. He drank deeply, savoring the warm, thick gush that spilled into his mouth, and began to slide down his throat. He moaned at the pure ecstasy of the feeding, though he knew for her, its intensity would be tenfold.
How long he drank from her, he didn't know. He only stopped when he heard her heart begin to slow, straining to pump blood to replace what was taken. He pulled back with a loud hiss, gasping for air, and swooning under the heady rush of blood coursing through his body. He managed to maintain his hold on Chooli, though only just barely, his mind swimming with images of the native woman's past.
He caught that her husband and child had died, lost to the sickness brought by the White Man. He sensed her unease when pressured by her tribe's elders about remarrying, and he felt her grief and loss at losing her family. When the images began to fade, he stood there, holding the woman, breathing deeply to calm the swirling torrents of his thoughts.
"Sweet Chooli..." he said, one hand rising to caress her hair. "You've lost so much in your life. Such pain should never be known to one of the living."