Path of the Vampire forum

The cool shadows of the room cast over two sedate and bare forms wrapped loosely in red linen. Barely any offering of moonlight made its way through the small spaces between the walls and the multi-layer insulated window treatments. The extensive means to which the absence of natural light was achieved were in fact typical of those who were considered night owls. Vampires to be specific. One fine example happened to stir first. Slower than usual the heavily inked right hand slid at a competitive snail’s pace to the pillow beneath Balthazar’s head. One by one the digits wearing art and random rings curled at the corner of the neck support and pulled it out to flip it over. Strands of dark hair licked at his face leaving the scent of Ross behind. One of the two made sense. The other was enough to have both of his eyes open with question.

The length was that which would be expected. Color certainly was not. Unless the woman had found a fast pass to coloring her blonde hair between their eyes closing in bed and the effects of daylight that she was just as vulnerable to as he was...something was off. He moved with increased effort to perch himself at the edge of the bed. His legs dropped down with a corner of the shared sheet left to hide the beast of burden lounging between his legs. A dual palm massage over his face could have been an obvious clue but he missed it. It was an unusual start for him. His body was worn down, tapped of energy he couldn’t remember using. His eyes glanced over his shoulder and discovered the form behind him still as stone. He had an answer for that. He turned over slowly and twisted at his tired hips and crawled over the empty space his body had rested on.

“Twas the Night before Christmas…” He whispered as his fingers curled up over the sheet slowly bunching up the length of king size fabric into his palm. Inch by inch the body he knew so well became the vision he had to blink several times to register. There were visible differences even in the darkness. His narration of the familiar story paused as he watched a swell of curves come to view that were not entirely Ross’. Her hair was darker and she gained a few pounds? He bobbed his head back and forth lightly while mulling over the possibilities. It could happen. Women were amazing creatures like that. He inched up confident that the woman sleeping was the possessor of the scent he routinely wore just as often as his own. Sleeping with one instead of many sort of made that happen. It was a perk he had grown rather fond of. “And all through this motherfucking  apartment…” His verbal recounting of the tale continued as the crimson cotton was pulled back with the flair of Houdini himself. “A beast of a monster was stirring  and…” He was on his knees feeling a bit weaker than he expected for what he had planned. “And..” His thoughts shifted from the sensual surprise to bewilderment at the features on the profile he was looking down at. In the minimal dark he found lines at the corners of her closed eyes, more framing the corners of her mouth where she was known to smile. He leaned down placing a hand on each side of who he had assumed to be Ross, the one who was curled up on her side. The hair color was the least of his concern as he quickly pushed off the mattress sending his body backward and scrambling to stand on his own two bare feet.

“Holy ****!” His exhaled the words as he stumbled around to the other side of the bed. His joints stiffly complied while bent over and cocked his head to the side to see what there was to see. His eyes widened at what resembled Ross...sort of. Like maybe a few decades later and ...no. Hell No! Just what the **** was he thinking?! He felt his chest tighten up as he rubbed his hand across the surface. This was their apartment. This was the woman’s bed. Who the **** was in it?! And where the hell was Ross?

He raised his arms so that his fingers could weave into a hold behind his head. Back and forth he paced waiting for everything as he expected it, as he knew it to be, to go back to normal. Each pass from wall to wall he counted. Twenty laps later it was not working. The woman in his bed was not moving. It was as if she was where she belonged. But she wasn’t. If Ross came back she would kill him. Well, not exactly like that. Knowing Ross first she would kill the sleeping older beauty then kill him. Just as he realized he had nothing on he heard the sounds of skin sliding over the sheets. It sounded so much like her. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Or could it?

“Hey, this is awkward as all hell.” He spoke in an attempt to clear up the confusion. Even if he sensed her there, pretty much tasted her on his lips, in the air as he spoke...he wasn’t able to explain what his eyes were revealing to him. “I don’t know what the **** happened but…” He ignored the cool air that slithered around his bare body and all the well endowed dangling parts. His finger flicked roughly at the wall switch so that the lights went on and the room was shocked with enough bright light to have him squinting. “Mind explaining this to me?” He wanted to add before Ross got back but somehow that didn’t seem the right thing to say.

“Okay. So, I live here and went to bed with …” He paused because all the familiar ink, the designs that he likely traced with the tip of a finger or his tongue inch by crazy yet adventurous inch was on the woman now connected to him through touch. The pinch confirmed it. She always was pinching him. His chest, his neck, his ***. His fingers went to the one spot he favored to set his tactile nip in return. Her *** was impossible to forget. It could swell a bit, even shift in where it was but something about it in his palm said ‘Oh hell yes’. There was no question as his finger and thumb released the small portion of flesh between them that it was in fact Ross. “You.”

Now that it was established they were both in the same room. She wanted to know what was going on. He didn’t have an answer but he had to tell her something. Something to hold her over until he had more to offer. He would break it to her gently.  Perhaps Jesse would know something. Charlie? Clover? Google or Mysteries of the great unknown.org? He, of course, was totally oblivious to the fact he was the tattooed version of Bad Santa with a sharp set of two front teeth.

Poor Ross. How was she going to take the news? Somewhere between the time her mesmerizing eyes closed after the epic shakedown of their mattress and the point his two peepers opened she gained about thirty years, perhaps forty, and all the lines, shifting of shapely curves that went along with it. No complaints from him though. A slight twitch in the spot where his appreciation was most visible said it was all good. Really good in fact. Truth be told as soon as she was over the shock he was more than ready to take her back to bed and show her how cool he was with it all...whatever the **** it was. He was down.

“I think you need to come sit down. I have to tell you something.” His hand slid around to the small of her back as he guided her to the bed. He wanted her to be sitting when he told her what he saw, what seems to be somewhat apparent to her as she looked to her arms discovering what she didn't see until that moment. “Don’t worry, though, I am here. I promise I am not going anywhere.” With his increased insistence in his pulling her gently down to sit beside him he was clear to continue. “Ross, baby…” He never called her baby before but this was huge. **** was real now. Every little bit he figured would help. He never been into that much older of a woman but...yeah, he shifted to try and weigh down his Happy Meter which was increasingly thick. Successful for the moment he returned to what he was saying. “You are old. Not as old as…” Okay so she was old. “But hot. I am digging this. No lie.” His hand went to her dark bed styled tresses and finger combed them back over her shoulder. “Just look at you.” His eyes drifted to where she had been far more petite and the years had added a little more juicy curves and handfuls. “Goddamn, woman.”

Balthazar leaned back using the heel of his hand to support him on the mattress both of them were holding down with their asses. He blinked at the look Ross was giving him while absorbing her reaction and words. How did the conversation go from what was apparently off with her to … wait What? Grandpa? The white mustache and beard framing his lips lost the pale visible line of flesh hiding his mouth when a deadpan expression invaded his features.

“What are you going on about?” Somewhere he either missed something or she was not just wearing several decades on the exterior. Her mind was starting to get the clamp down and it was time band her and hide all the knobs to the stove. “Thirty one isn’t old. Hell, I ate that up earlier. Remember? Just saying nothing wrong with some well aged appetizer and main course. Don’t think the numbers change even if the chassis does. At least in this case I don’t think it does.”

Balthazar felt confident enough he was going to make some headway with Ross once she gave what he said the thought it deserved. That is when his eyes finally left the beauty of Ross for the surface of his inked thighs. Naturally he checked his Happy Meter to see what his status was when the sound of her voice saying sixty five replayed in his head.

A snow white trail of hair formed a thin but noticeable line to the natural cloud that could be counted on at the base of his magic stick. For the first time he saw a sign of what she was talking about. The dark brown thick wiry curl was bleached out. He snapped his body forward and stood up. Each hand went to his beard and pulled through the texture then lifted it up as his eyes dropped down. It was consistent in color. His arms flapped up and each armpit had a nest of white pocketed for easy viewing.

“What in the **** is going on?!” He wasn’t going to be the only one on a sinking ship once called Reality. “Your hair is brown, Ross.” He washed his open palms down his face then patted at his bare chest as if that would make a difference. “I look as old as you?!” He stumbled quickly towards the mirror that became useless as soon as Jesse’s gift took over. Nothing. He saw nothing. He reached down and lifted what had been rising on its own. He leaned over enough to confirm all the white was still there. “I think something happened.” He released his hold and stepped back to her. “I never heard of this happening.” Which he hadn’t. “But I have an idea.” He sat down next to her and leaned in placing a hand to her jawline. “Maybe it had to do with what we were doing before we woke like this…” His thumb traced the swell of her bottom lip. “You know, before we fell asleep. We get it on again only this time I am on top. See if we can hit it hard enough that we set things back to the way we were?” What about that would seem unreasonable?