A glass of wine | micro-fiction contest by karupanocitizen

He count's private office remained dimly lit by the dim light of the main chandelier. The stay, dedicated to the most private and important meetings and the occasional adventure, was adorned by the beautiful and voluptuous figure of a woman. Fleshy lips Cold look and calculator. Black hair and abundant, a temptation of two legs.

Just with a touch of your hand and the prey is at your disposal, are many years of refining the technique. None is capable of resisting him. A taste, a night of pleasure and then to return to homework. This time his appetite does not claim food, but lust.

The black dress slips and reveals the white flesh, the proximity of his body disturbs him as he had never felt before, this woman is special, it is as if she could really control herself in front of him, but no, it is impossible. None can.

His mouth goes to hers, he almost feels his breath, at the last moment a cup prevents him from touching the desired lips.

—Drink, she orders.

Does not understand what happens, where did the cup come from? why does it obey it?

A superior force cancels his instinct for preservation, takes the liquid to his mouth, swallows it in a sip. A growing ardor corrodes his insides, a fierce scream. A stertorous plea.

—Damn, it's wine! You gave me to drink wine.

And so Count Dracula died, vampires can only drink blood, she knew ... thousands of years of experience had taught him how to trick them ... and master them.