Teaser: Not Precisely
{The Setting: a high-tech underground facility. Lots of people in lab coats with hard-edged features set off in the blue glare of lighting inset into the walls. POV is focused on two men, both conspicuously dressed in conservative suits of the latest fashion., walking down the hall toward the camera. Silver lapel pins catch the light as they walk down the long corridor. As they move forward, the POV abruptly shifts behind them, catching their faces at oblique angles. In the forward field of view, fewer and fewer lab technicians are seen as the two men advance until finally they are left as the only two people in view. The POV remains behind them as they go, their conversation fading in as the walk.}
Man #1: “How exactly did we end up with an undead vampire working for us?”
Man #2: “Undead vampire is redundant. Nor is there any indication that he actually requires blood to sustain him. We think he just developed a taste for it.
Her Offer
No one refused her offer, and no one realized that mistake until it was too late. Some would call her a black widow, except she didn’t take the long road getting married and hooked into their money. No, she wasn’t in it for the money, she was in it for the thrill, the thrill of the kill.
A beautiful woman to be sure, gorgeous even, called “hot” by many a man. More than looks she had intelligence and talent. She knows how to work what she has, as well as how to work the crowd. She would have whomever she chose eating out of her hand in minutes. This was in part because she was that good, but also because guys are stupid and think with the wrong head more often than not, which made them easy marks.
For her, it was a game. She lost the lust for love long ago, and now she was a machine, a machine seeking revenge against the male half of the species for all women scorned. It had become more than just revenge for every wrong doing against her, every late night braggart taking her heart and feelings freely given and leaving behind cold desperate emptiness. She was now in her mind an equalizer, hurting them before they could hurt anyone else.
The routine was almost that, people don’t change and patterns develop. Late nights at the clubs and parties, revealing clothing, caught glances, pouting lips mouthing wanted words, quick getaway to some private place, and finally the finale before the escape.
It was all too easy, men were far too trusting, just as she had been some time in the past. Simple application of college chemistry to fabricate the killer concoction. Applied to her lips above a protective coating meant she didn’t even have to undress, she could kill without so much as damaging her modesty. Well, except for one encounter where her mark refused to kiss her, a superstition or some such nonsense. No matter, it didn’t save him. There are other areas where men put faith in a womans lips, and there the poison works just as well.
So here it is my brothers, a warning to you all. If you are out working the scene, hunting a night of anonymous pleasure. Be wary when she offers herself to you, for if it is this huntress that I have spoken of, this might just be the truth that really is too good, too good to be true.