Niszczyciel

No sooner had we left I regretted my outfit choice. My dress wouldn't stop riding up my thighs as I drove and I'd caught Peter gawking at my bare thigh on more than one occasion. He couldn't seem to get used to the fact I was wearing a dress, let alone a skin tight one. Deciding that confrontation may only make things awkward, I chose not to comment on the matter.

I parked in the back of the school parking lot as usual, cutting the engine and looking over at Peter. As eager as I was to get into the dance, there was something that had been bugging me.

"What happened? With Roman." I asked Peter outright, receiving a smirk. Peter shifted in his seat so that he was facing me.

"Why? You jealous Little Red?" I was, but I would sooner cut out my tongue before admitting it to him. I rolled my eyes, reaching for the door handle. "He just asked me about my dad." I stopped, turning back, "and he told me about his, that was it." I raised an eyebrow and Peter continued, "and some shit about how being raised by a single mother makes you more sensitive to girls." I cracked a smile, reaching over to jokingly pinch Peter's cheek.

"Aww, Peter." I cooed.

"Right? I told him I'm a sensitive guy." It was probably the biggest load of bullshit to spill from his mouth yet and we both knew it, which was why we were laughing almost hysterically as we stepped out of the car.

Eyes were instantly on us as students made their way inside to the dance. One group of girls actually went as far as to gasp as they'd seen us and I couldn't resist giving them a devilish grin as I waved.

"I hope you're enjoying this." Peter whispered down to me, glancing around at the students as they continued to stare. I was, I couldn't deny that.

Inside, the gym had been horribly transformed into a dance with cheap balloons and poor lighting. Somewhere in the back a smoke machine was about to give out as the smoke was too thin to amount to anything but a slight haze. Peter and I stood in the doorway for a moment taking in the scene. Pirates, Egyptians, and a few hippies danced around us in a trance.

A lot more people than I'd expected had shown up. I could feel the heat from their bodies encompassing me and whatever had been in that bottle, bubbled in my stomach. I was going to be sick.

"Peter," I began, placing a hand over my stomach as I watched the students dance. Blood began oozing from their eyes, their noses, their ears, everywhere and they all smiled. I must have been the only one to see it it though because while I was horrified, Peter simply looked bored. I felt the liquid rise in the back of my throat. "I'll be right back." I quickly informed Peter, slapping my hand over my mouth as I pushed my way past a bumblebee, in an almost full on run for the restrooms.

"Nisa?" I heard Peter call after me as I rushed through the doors.

No sooner had I made it to the toilet, the liquid my father had left me shot out from my mouth, staining the toilet bowl a blood red. My insides were on fire as they rejected what I assumed to be the synthetic blood my father had promised. Something had been telling me it wouldn't have been that easy to find a solution.

Another wave of nausea rushed over me as I vomited what was left in my stomach into the toilet before flushing. I could feel the sweat on my forehead, probably ruining what little makeup I'd actually put on.

I was thirsty again, the burning dryness had returned the instant my stomach settled, worse than before I had drunk the red liquid. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before pulling myself up off of the floor. It had been a mistake to come to this dance, especially to drag Peter with me.

Since we'd confided in each other, I'd yet to explain the extent to which I liked blood. Peter had promised to show me his transformation on the full moon, which wasn't for another couple days, but he still believed I was just some nutcase that got turned on at the sight of blood. I took all of his jokes in stride, choosing to let him believe that rather than the truth.

Making my way to the sink, I rested my palms on the cool porcelain. I needed to pull myself together before Peter saw me. Slowly turning on the faucet, I quickly rinsed my mouth out before glancing up at my reflection in the stained, restroom mirror and realized how suddenly frightening my appearance had become. I was pale--paler than usual--and my eyes were so dilated, they looked simply black. My irises were nothing more than thin, blue outlines.

I splashed some water onto my face, washing away my runny eyeliner and willing my face to appear normal. As much as I hated the thought I knew what I needed--blood. It didn't have to be human, the chicken blood had proven that, but the craving was getting worse as human seemed to be what I truly wanted. There were too many people here, it was becoming too much bear.

Pulling my hair back and out of my face, I closed my eyes taking another deep breath. I had to make it home at least, I could do that. I had to act as normal as possible just long enough to get Peter home and back to my own house.

My entire body tensed as the restroom doors creaked closed. I knew it was Roman, there was no need to open my eyes. I could feel him and it sent goosebumps coursing down my body.

I didn't move from my place in front of the sink, but I opened my eyes to find his reflection staring back from behind me. I wonder if he knew how much worse he made things for me.

I watched Roman take a few steps towards me, pressing his chest into my back and my breath hitched in my throat from the sensation of just his touch.

I straightened up, turning around to face him which caused him to take a step back as he looked down at me. He didn't even so much as blink as he watched me and I couldn't tell if he was waiting for me to say something or just deep in thought about something. That was just how Roman was, he always seemed difficult to read and distant most of the time.

"What are you suppose to be, a homicidal maniac?" I commented on his simple tux, trying to sound sarcastic, like Peter would have, but my voice was shaky. Roman was the last thing I needed to deal with right now, so when he didn't respond I attempted to make my way past him and towards the bathroom door, only he caught my arm, just above my elbow. Swinging me around to face him, Roman held on to my arm to prevent me from walking away from him again.

I wanted to panic, something was telling me I probably should, but there was something about the whole situation I found arousing. There was also the chance that it was simply because it was Roman and there was some undeniable, animalistic connection between the two of us. Either way I found myself welcoming the pressure of his grip.

"What are you?" His voice was smooth, calm as he continued to eye me.

"A witch." I knew what he had meant by the question, but even I didn't know what I was and if I hadn't even told Peter about my blood drinking and the nightmares, I sure as hell wasn't going to tell Roman.

Roman didn't seem fazed by my apparent sarcasm though. He dropped my arm, reaching up with his other hand to grab a lock of my hair. I bit down on my lip, turning my face away from his as he seemed to examine it before letting it drop back to my shoulder. Taking another step closer, I noticed Roman let out a breath I hadn't known he was holding as he brushed a finger gently across the lace at the top of my dress.

I let out a slight gasp as his fingers brushed the bare skin above my breasts and took a step back, out of Roman's reach. It was becoming difficult to breath and I felt the thirst becoming unbearable. I couldn't be around Roman, let alone having him touch me.

"So, you feel it too." It hadn't been a question, but I didn't respond, afraid to open my mouth. Roman didn't seem to care though whether I responded or not. His eyes feel to the bare skin of my chest as he slowly stepped closer to me, keeping his hand up where it had been before I stepped away. "Every time I see you it feels like..." he stopped and I couldn't tell if he was trying to think of a word or just too lost in whatever he was experiencing to even finish.

I gave a sigh as his hand fell down to the bottom of my dress, his fingers curling under the fabric and inching up my leg.

"A hunger." The words found their way out of my mouth, causing him to pause with his hand on the inside of my thigh. I wasn't sure how much more I could take. My entire body was screaming on the inside, a warmth settling deep between my thighs.

He silently watched me for a moment longer, his breath too becoming heavy and ragged before finally removing his hand to reach into his pocket. There was sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach at the absence of Roman's hand, but when he held up the razor blade my heart again stopped. He looked down at the tiny piece of metal, giving me one quick glance before slicing it into his index finger.

I held my breath, turning away from him as the smell hit me. I had to swallow hard as my mouth had immediately begun to water. Roman Godfrey knew exactly what it was I was experiencing.

I backed away from him as he approached me until my back met the bathroom door.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I snapped, closing my eyes as I tried to focus on anything but the current situation.

"I'll give you a taste, if you'll give me one." My eyes snapped back towards Roman. He was a fucking psychopath, but I did want to taste him--more than anything.

For a moment I couldn't even move, I just watched as he kept his finger up. A small droplet ran down the length of Roman's finger, settling at the base of his palm. My vision began to blur as I watched and I tried to focus back on Roman's face, only I couldn't tear my eyes from the red.

Blinking a few times, I gave a sigh as I let into my inner monster, pulling the top of my dress aside to expose the side of my breast. If he was going to cut into me, I didn't want it to be anywhere noticeable.

Without hesitation, Roman took one long stride towards me before leaning down to smell the patch of flesh I'd allowed him. His hand slipped around my waist, pulling me closer to him before placing his finger up to my lips, waiting for me to take the first taste. I was crazy, I was absolutely insane and stupid, but I couldn't fight it, the burning thirst in my throat, and Roman...

I watched his mouth part as I leaned forward, placing his bleeding finger into my own mouth. I caressed the cut with my tongue, sucking gently to allow his blood to pool beneath my tongue, savoring the taste. The cut hadn't seemed very large, but it was deep and his blood trickled fast into my mouth. I had to stifle a moan at the sensation as I finally swallowed. This was it, this had been exactly what it was I'd been craving, it was Roman.

It was just a small taste, yet my entire body began to tingle and I could feel it deep inside me, feeding the beast, making it stronger.

I felt him cut into the side of breast before the warm wetness of his tongue brushed over the fresh wound. He hadn't cut me as deeply, but it hadn't seemed to make a difference as Roman, himself, let out a hushed sigh before grabbing hold of my waste with his free hand.

I didn't like it, not the feel of his mouth against my body, but him drinking from me. It felt wrong, almost insulting in a sense.

They don't drink from us!

The voice was deep, loud and enraged as it screamed inside my head. A rage overtook me and I placed both hands on Roman's shoulders before pushing him away with some unknown strength.

Even I was surprised as Roman fell to the ground, though he'd managed to catch himself with both hands.

"What the fuck?" He was angry as he stood up, straightening his jacket. I had no idea what had just happened, but it scared the living shit of me. I fought to steady my breathing, fumbling blindly for the doorknob behind me as I watched Roman.

"I-I'm sorry." I stammered, finally finding the handle and hurrying out. What the fuck had just happened? I could still taste his blood on my tongue, the numbing tingles still pulsing down my spine. I wanted to turn around, I wanted more.

Stopping in the middle of the hall, I placed my fingers on my mouth, gently stroking my lips as I fought to keep Roman's taste. Why shouldn't I have more? It was he who offered himself to me, I should have been allowed more than a fucking paper cut.

"Nisa?" I looked up as Peter's voice pulled me back from my thoughts--my thoughts, what the fuck was I thinking? Once again, Peter was helping me by taking my mind off of whatever it was I was becoming and he didn't even know it. I rushed to him, throwing my arms around his neck. "Whoa--okay," Peter pulled me away, holding me at arms length. I wasn't a hugger, nor was he, so my action had been a bit unorthodox.

Shaking my head, I pulled away from his grip, awkwardly rubbing my hands off on the back of my dress. I wanted to leave, I wanted to go back to Peter's, I'd had enough with blood for one night.

"Let's just go." I told him, starting for the doors. I didn't want to give him a chance to ask me about what had happened, though I knew it was sure to come sooner or later.

I let Peter drive us back to his house. I couldn't keep my mind off of what had happened, even with Peter telling me how freaked the kids had been when I'd bolted. He'd even admitted that my idea hadn't been completely terrible as he had seemed to find enjoyment in their fear.

"Little Red," I looked over at Peter as the car pulled to a halt as we'd made it back to Peter's. "What's going on?" I gave a shrug, reaching down to pull off my heels before stepping barefoot out of the car. I didn't want to tell Peter about Roman or any fucked up part about me really.

"I just wanna go get high and crash." I informed him, hurrying down the steps and up to Peter's front door. He eyed me suspiciously as he walked past me and inside. I wasn't lying, I did want to get high and just pass out, possibly sleep through this fucked up weekend.

Lynda was nowhere to be seen as I flopped down on the sofa, dropping my heels onto the floor beside me, probably in bed already. Peter didn't bother to question me again as I'd focused on a spot in his ceiling. God only knew how it got their, before Peter and Lynda showed up the place belonged to Peter's uncle Vince who wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with, or so I'd been told.

"Alright," I turned to Peter as he sat down beside me and lit the joint before taking a hit and passing it to me. "I believe that makes me the winner on the whole Homecoming debate." I smiled, taking a slow hit as I rested my head against the back of the sofa. Lynda always had the best weed, though I couldn't guess where she got it. Peter let out a sigh, copying my stance.

"I guess I owe you a beer." I told him, rolling my head sideways to look at him. He was already eyeing me with that 'I told you so' smirk of his. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed how blue his eyes were until now, they were almost a mirror of mine.

"Damn right." He closed his eyes, turning his head back towards the ceiling. I was already feeling better about the nights events, but for some reason my mind kept fading back to Roman. The way he tasted was indescribable and the feel of his tongue on my skin--it was nearly impossible to focus on anything else, even with Peter right beside me. Maybe that was it...

"Peter?" I leaned forward, putting the joint out in the ashtray.

"Hmm?" He didn't even bother to open his eyes and look at me as he responded. I wasn't exactly sure what was coming over me, but as I crawled onto Peter's lap, straddling him, I elicited an immediate response.

Peter jolted forward, subconsciously grabbing my hips as to keep me from falling, but quickly letting go as he realized where he'd touched me. Peter had become my best friend in Hemlock Grove, shit he was my only friend, and I didn't want to ruin the friendship that we had, but tonight I needed him. So far he had been my ultimate distraction, and if ever I'd needed one it was tonight.

I leaned down, fighting back the memories of Roman's blood on my tongue, but Peter's hand reached out to grab my shoulders, preventing me from coming any closer.

"Nisa, I--I don't think..." I gently held Peter's head firm as he had begun to furiously shake it. He was trying to tell me no, that this wasn't right, but I didn't want to think about Roman Godfrey another second, because I was afraid. I was afraid of what would happen to me if I gave in to Roman--to whatever evil thing that was growing inside of me.

"Don't over think this." I whispered to Peter, leaning down to bring his lips to mine before he could try to say something else.

He didn't immediately kiss me back, but it only took him a few seconds to second guess whatever thoughts that had been stopping him. His teeth came down gently on my bottom lip and I gave a slight moan as Peter's hands soon found their way up my thighs, pushing my dress up to grip my ass.

"I'll give you a taste, if you'll give me one."

Letting go of his face, I reached down to lift his shirt up, parting just long enough to pull it completely off. It was then he who came back to kiss me, grabbing a handful of my hair as he pulled my head back to send a trail of kisses down my throat.

"So, you feel it too."

It didn't feel completely wrong. Peter was dear to me, even in just the short time we'd seemed to know each other, yet there was a part of me that kept reminding me that he was not Roman.

"Every time I see you it feels like..."

I ignored the thoughts, pushing Peter back against the sofa to unfasten his jeans. He only allowed me a moment before leaning forward again, grabbing hold of me from under my thighs and lifting me up with him as he stood up. I tightened my legs around his waist, continuing to kiss him and entangle my fingers in his unruly brown hair as he walked us down the hall to his bedroom.

"What are you?"