here it is...hope you enjoy
Constructive criticism always welcome
THE GOURMET
He walked out of the restaurant and into the chill night air. The rain had stopped, the full moon now shone, turning the drab street into a silver highway. With the collar of his overcoat turned up against the chill breeze he walked over to the taxi-rank and took a cab home.
Sitting in his leather chair, his eyes closed, he relived his meal. The taste, the texture, the sheer bliss he experienced, yes, that was a meal fit for a gourmet such as him. Through the window he could see the sky gradually lighting, from jet black to indigo, with the coming of the dawn. Exhausted and replete he headed to the bedroom, sleep descended on him immediately.
Awakening to the gloom of a London winter he looked at the clock. God, it was 4.30pm already. He still felt tired, but threw off the bedclothes and headed for the shower. Under the steaming spray he thought about the night ahead. The theatre, then on to his favourite restaurant. He smiled to himself, yes, he thought, a wonderful evening ahead. He dressed impeccably. A tall, handsome man, resplendent in his Saville Row suit. He grabbed his overcoat and made his way out of his apartment and into the street.
The lobby of the theatre was crowded with patrons, it was opening night. He bypassed the press and photographers and made his way up the staircase to his private box. The play was irrelevant to him. He had come to see a budding star. The pretty redhead had a quality, she eclipsed everyone else on the stage, and he was meeting her after the play.
He didn’t remember much about the performance. He only had eyes for her. The theatre was now hushed, most of the patrons had gone, and he waited expectantly, for her. The side door opened, he turned towards the sound, and there she was, beautiful, ethereal, seeming to glide towards him. Light seemed to enter with her, he walked towards her, his arms outstretched. God, he thought, how lucky can a man be, to meet someone like this, an original, no others had been like her… They embraced each other. As he touched her and felt her warm breath on him he knew this girl was exactly what he had been waiting and searching for.
They left the theatre and went out into the street; his favourite restaurant wasn't far away. As one of their most important clients he knew that he would always get great service. Walking hand in hand neither of them felt the chill of the air, love definitely made you immune from the vagaries of the weather. He steered her towards the restaurant. They went past the main entrance, where there was a queue of people, he had his own way in. Turning into a side alley he made for a small door hidden from the main street. Just before he opened it he turned to the beautiful woman by his side, he took her in his arms, she laughed, and again they kissed. He felt he was in heaven, the taste of her, the scent of her; he just couldn't contain the hunger for her.
They entered through the side door; it was dark inside, the girl turned to him, about to say something. He put his finger on her lips, they needed to be quiet. Her arms wrapped about his waist as they walked forward to where the sounds of pots and pans and people shouting could be heard. Suddenly he stopped. He pulled her towards him. He could feel the trembling of her body, smell her essence. Again, he kissed her, even more passionately, her heartbeat quickened, he could feel it. His lips were on fire, he had never felt like this, didn't know he could.
With his delicate fingers he stroked her chin, tilting it slightly; she looked up at him, into his eyes. He felt her passion shift to fear and knew she had seen him change. He looked different; his eyes were predatory, burning into her. The canines of his brilliantly white teeth elongated, she opened her mouth to scream. He bent his head to her neck and bit deeply. He felt her pain and blood poured from her neck into his mouth, she struggled to break free - hopelessly. Darkness, quiet, death.......she knew no more. A brilliant light, snuffed out in an instant.
The alley was empty when he emerged; he was wiping his mouth with a pristine handkerchief. He folded it and put it back into the pocket of his jacket, it wasn't as pristine now as slight bloodstains had marred the whiteness. Making his way home he thought about the night. Yes, he had been right, he had loved her, her essence, her texture, her individuality, and she had certainly been the best meal he had tasted. A true treat for someone like himself.
A Vampire Gourmet.
