Chapter THIRST
In the bustling city, there lived a young girl named Paris Noel. She was a vision of innocent beauty, untouced, with a face that seemed to radiate pure goodness. Her brown hair cascaded down her back in soft curls, framing her delicate features like a halo. Though she had never experienced love or romance, she often daydreamed about meeting a man who would sweep her off her feet.
And why not? Paris was beautiful and kind, with a heart as gentle as a dove’s.
She was filled with ambition and dreams of achieving great things.
Her mother, Pauline, worked as a nurse and had to work the night shift to support the family. She would come home exhausted in the morning and sleep until Paris returned from school.
Despite being only eight years old, Paris understood the sacrifices her mother made for them.
Paris was a good daughter, understanding and appreciative of her mother’s hard work and dedication. She took on the responsibility of caring for herself and her mother during the day. She would often prepare snacks for them both, even if it were as simple as making peanut butter sandwiches with the utmost care.
And though Pauline appreciated her daughter’s efforts, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for not being able to be there for her daughter more.
From the moment she turned twelve, Paris was drawn to the warm glow of the oven. Immersed in the art of baking, she soon discovered her true passion: being a chef.
After years of honing her craft and working her way up through various kitchens, Paris landed a coveted position as a sous chef at a five-star luxurious restaurant in the heart of the city. She poured her heart and soul into every dish she created in the kitchen.
As darkness fell over the bustling city, Paris knew it would be her chance to showcase her skills and make a lasting impression on the culinary world. Tonight, the restaurant was hosting a grand charity function.
The air buzzed with energy as she readied herself for the upcoming evening, her anticipation growing by the second.
The banquet hall was a dazzling display of opulence and grandeur. The guests, adorned in their finest attire, exuded an air of sophistication and grace. The women shimmered in their flowing gowns, each one more stunning than the last, while the men stood tall in tailored suits and tuxedos.
In the background, the elegant piano notes filled the room, adding to the peaceful ambiance of the party. As glasses clinked and laughter echoed through the halls, it was clear that this was a gathering of only the most refined and distinguished individuals.
But in the kitchen, it was a chaotic symphony of stovetops hissing and sizzling noise.
Pots and pans filled to the brim with bubbling sauces and soups. Every chef and sous chef was occupied in a blur as they cooked, prepped, diced, and chopped ingredients.
Amidst the chaos, waiters and servers buzzed like worker bees, swiftly retrieving dishes and delivering them to awaiting tables.
The air was thick with the aroma of spices and herbs, mingling with the sounds of clanging pots and rapid-fire orders being shouted out. It was a scene of controlled madness, a well-oiled machine operating at full speed in the heart of the restaurant.
The kitchen was hyperactive, and the head chef’s loud and demanding presence added even more heat and pressure to the already frenzied atmosphere.
His booming voice echoed through the bustling kitchen, demanding attention from all those within earshot.
“Is that steak ready yet?!” he bellowed, his face red with frustration. Paris, a junior chef, quickly responded, her heart racing with nerves.
“Yes, chef,” she stammered, trying to keep up with his quick pace and intense energy.
“Why is it still not ready?” he yelled, his back turned as he furiously chopped vegetables on his cutting board. He was a good person at heart, but in moments like this, when orders were piling up and time was of the essence, his temper flared.
“Where is the Worcestershire sauce I asked for?” he shouted, addressing the rest of his team.
“This needs more salt!” he criticized, sending multiple people scrambling to fulfill his requests.
Paris hastily chopped the delicate chives for garnish. In her haste, she accidentally nicked her finger, and a small bead of blood began to trickle down slowly.
She quickly grabbed a tissue, quietly blotted it, and then discarded it in the nearby trash can. Unbeknownst to her, a few drops of her blood had fallen onto the perfectly cooked steak that was about to be served to its lucky recipient.
Amidst the plentiful crowd of guests stood a nobleman of great wealth and influence. Despite his immense wealth and power, he lived a reclusive life, always keeping a low profile.
It was necessary for someone of his status, for the greater the man, the smaller his place to hide. In the shadows, he could observe and control from afar, like a master puppeteer pulling the strings of the world. But even in his secluded existence, he couldn’t escape the weight of his responsibilities and the constant threat of exposure.
The walls of his opulent mansion seemed to close in on him, reminding him that no amount of riches or influence could protect him from the dangers that lurked outside.
He was a three-hundred-year-old Vampire with sharp, angled features and piercing blue eyes that glinted in the moonlight. His pale skin was cool to the touch, and his elongated canines were hidden from the rest of the world.
He loved the warm, rich elixir of human blood, reveling in its intoxicating taste. It was all he desired in this world, his sustenance, and he craved it above all else.
He was arrogant and heart-breaking ways. Many girls had fallen for his boyish charm, only to be ignored and have their hearts broken. Only a select few were lucky enough to spend a night in his bed, but the warmth of their presence never lasted long.
He reveled in his freedom and did whatever he wanted, with no regard for anyone else.
But beneath the facade of strength and power, a darkness lingered. The vampire was slowly losing his life.
Despite the impending threat to his life, there was not a hint of pain or fear on his face. His stoic expression remained unchanged, masking the vulnerability within him. A weighty secret that only two people shared, as the rest of the world continued to see him as invincible.
The vampire wasn’t planning on staying long; his presence at the party was merely a formality. A plate of medium-rare steak was served to him, its aroma tantalizing and mouth-watering. But something caught his attention—a different scent invaded his nose, overpowering the smell of the meat. It was human blood.
He couldn’t resist swiping his finger across the glistening meat and bringing it to his lips.
Terence, a tall and lean man, had accompanied the vampire, and his trusted close confidant furrowed his brows.
Only Terence and the ancient family doctor treating the vampire’s health knew the truth: he had been poisoned.
Before Ternace could stop him from tasting, the vampire dipped his finger into his mouth. The delicate fluid coated his tongue, sending shivers of pleasure throughout his body as he savored the forbidden taste.
Terence’s face showed confusion as he thought, ‘Master never indulges in human food. So why would he choose to taste it now? It could be dangerous to his health.’
The vampire’s entire body jolted upright, his senses immediately on high alert. Terence sensed that something had gone terribly wrong with the steak served to him. He sniffed and detected the unmistakable stench of blood.
But for the vampire, it was not a repulsive scent but an alluring redolence that invaded his tongue with a sharp sweetness. It was unlike any blood he had ever tasted in his extensive lifespan.
An insatiable thirst consumed him as he yearned to taste more of this potent elixir. No other sensation could match the rush of pleasure he felt when indulging in fresh, warm blood.
He needed more.
He ran towards the source of that delectable liquid. Pushing his way through the sea of bodies, he finally reached the kitchen.
The smell of savory food wafted through the air, mingling with teat sizzling on the hot pan and a bubbling sauce simmering on the gas stove. The chaotic energy in the kitchen threatened to overwhelm him, so he refocused his senses solely on the irresistible scent of blood. Its rich, metallic aroma filled his nostrils and fueled his desire.
His feet pounded against the floor, his heart racing as he closed on his target. The scent grew stronger with each step, sending a primal urge through his body. Every nerve was alive with anticipation, every cell buzzing with excitement at the mere whiff of blood.
He could feel himself being pulled towards it, like a moth to a flame. It was intoxicating, and he wanted to immerse himself in it, to drown in its alluring aroma.
The vampire slowed down. His intense gaze was fixed on the back of a brown-haired girl who was deep in concentration as she worked.
Her sweet, alluring scent filled his nostrils and sent shivers down his spine. It was like getting drunk off of pure desire. As he drew closer to her, his fangs descended from his gums, and his eyes glowed with an insatiable hunger, burning bright blood red.
Each step brought him closer to this mysterious girl who had captivated him with just one whiff of her intoxicating drop of blood. He couldn’t resist the pull towards her, a mixture of raw curiosity and fascination that coursed through his veins like fire.
Paris turned halfway, and his heart raced as he felt every muscle tighten. As she turned fully to face him, their eyes met.
She saw a tall man, his physique perfectly showcased by his impeccably tailored suit. He stood confidently and poised, exuding an air of mystery and charm, instantly captivating her.
Her gaze lingered on his chiseled features and strong jawline, unable to tear her eyes away from this captivating stranger. She felt a flush creep up her cheeks as she realized she was staring, but she couldn’t help being drawn to him.
“Do you need assistance, sir?” Her voice was gentle and soft.
The vampire couldn’t tear his gaze away from her exquisite beauty.
“Is there something you are looking for?” she asked again.
Her radiant appearance overwhelmed his mind, causing him to continue staring without answering.
For a brief moment, they looked at each other. His eyes were as dark as the night sky, yet they emit a comforting warmth. He had a straight nose, high cheekbones, and...oddly long teeth, she noted in her mind.
He finally asked her, “Did you cut your finger?”
She was taken aback, “H-how did you know?”
Her fearful expression revealed her worry. She looked to her side and then to the other side and whispered, almost begging, “Please, don’t tell anyone.”
The vampire smiled and pulled her closer, his head lowering towards hers.
“Your secret is safe with me,” he reassured her. The emotion swirled inside of him as she stood so close, a hot, heavy sensation spreading in her belly at his proximity.
While she was innocently gazing at him, he thought of sinking his teeth into a succulent neck and tasting the hot, pulsing liquid coursing in her veins.
Their moment was interrupted by the head chef’s voice, requesting for Paris to get him his steak. She quickly responded with a yes and turned to face the chef.
At that moment, the vampire let go of her waist and disappeared. Paris felt a pang of discomfort as he left without saying anything.
Who was he? She couldn’t help but wonder. Shaking her head, she focused on getting the chef’s order ready.
~X~