Read Little Lamb [BxB|18+] :: 6

He can hear it very clearly throughout the stoned walls and marble ground. The various frantic sounds that came out from the exotic boy resonates through the surface of his castle. How heavy the breath that Noi let out as those long legs are currently trying to run away from the servants that pursuing him. It makes Balan chuckles at how cute their chasing sessions are.

Casually, Balan goes out from his chamber and... walks in ridiculously inhumane speed to the office where Noi currently turning the room upside down with the latter's frantic action. He then turns to the servants, who are now already gathered not far from where he stood with their knives and buckets in their hands.

With one gesture from his finger, the servants immediately understand the master's order and leave the scene. Balan uses one of his abilities and burn himself into ashes and slip through the gap of the door. He then reshapes himself to his original shape in a matter of seconds and begins his impeccable acting in concern, "What's wrong, Noi? Why you look so panic?"

Noi immediately turns in his direction, showing the wide doe-eyes complete with wet streaks decorating the tanned cheeks.

"Noi-"

"STOP!!" The boy shouts and points the nuzzle of a gun that was displayed on the desk to him. It seems Noi didn't buy his acting as those dainty hands can be seen trembling greatly, desperately tries to steady the deathly tool. Noi then stutters with a frightened voice that sounds so melodic to Balan's sadistic mind, "W-wh-what a-a-re you?"

Balan didn't utter out any answer and decides to observe the frantic boy. His silence seems to frustrated the latter even more, making Noi harshly utters the same question with a much louder voice as the dainty hands still tightly point the nuzzle towards Balan, "WHAT ARE YOU?!!"

The honoured turns his concerned expression into a smile, a creepy one, as his black eyes are now glowing in red, feeling excited to the exotic's boy frantic voice. He then chuckles, "Look's like we've been found out by the little lamb."

Despite having a gun pointed at him, Balan looks very much relaxed as he nonchalantly shrugs at the frightened boy, "Isn't it very much obvious what we are? That is such a dumb question that needed to be answered, little beautiful Noi."

Balan creepy giggles cut through the thunders that have now violently strike the night sky, "Ansons are very nice, aren't they? To even give such a cute nickname to you, a nobody who has no single drop of their blood."

"No," Noi ignore Balan's sarcasm and how on earth that the latter is able to know that information as the boy vigorously shakes his head while his wet doe-eyes continues to leak out tears.

The existence of another creature that is written in books or in tales of folklores which is supposed to be only an imagination or myths is now standing in flesh in front of him, "They're not real. Vampires don't exist. What kind of sick prank is this?!"

They're supposed to be a myth, a supernatural being that is not supposed to exist in this world.

Bragr, Renatus, or vampires, are just one of the many traditional mythological creatures which should be just phenomena that are not supposed to come true.

I refuse to believe that they exist.

The honoured gasps with his glowing red cat-shaped eyes widen in mocking shock, "Prank? You think this is a joke?" then he let out an amused hum, "But it is indeed funny when you think about it. An ordinary prey like you to bravely and willingly going into the den of predators."

"Huh?! W-what do you mean?"

Balan licks his thin lips and pouts. Then he shrugs again, "As I said before, you are not the real descendant of Anson as there is not even a single drop of blood of Agnes that runs inside your veins, my darling. And that means," he chuckles darkly, "You are claimable."

"Luckily, I really like your smell and appearance, a lot. And you're a male at that, meaning your meat is really not in my preference. So I might consider to keep you longer." The honoured says and tilt his head slightly, quietly observe the boy with his glowing red eyes. After some time, Balan starts to feel amused as the little lamb in front of him doesn't seem to give up the futile act, keeping the useless nuzzle of the gun pointed at him. He let out a menacing look to the latter, grinning to show his long and pointy fangs to the frightened boy.

The simple act successfully widens Noi's wet doe-eyes in fear.

But the boy desperately swallows his own fright and forces his own feet to step away, trying to bring back the distance between them as his trembling hands are still gripping the gun tightly, paling the tip of his slender digits. The boy desperately tries to steady the deadly tool in his hands and taunt the other with it, "Don't you dare come any closer or I'll shoot you, Balan."

The honoured stop his approach, obliging to the little lamb's request. But then, he let out a chuckle, a mocking one, to the latter. The belittling helps the boy to build his own gut, holding the gun steadily as the nuzzle points towards the vampire's forehead area. Good choice of target, little lamb. That's indeed where you should point the gun at. But sadly, the wrong choice of weapon to begin with. So it's useless no matter where you point the nuzzle to.

But more useless as I can't die with any kind of method.

Then the dark chuckles slowly turn into a series of sinister laughs as the baritone voice utters in an amused mixed with mocking tone, "You can try to kill me, little lamb. But that won't stop me to try to claim you."

Humans are such weak creatures. He won't dare to pull the trigger.

The taunting successfully raises Noi's anger, making his every ounce of bravery come out and suddenly pull the trigger without thinking a second thought. The bullet directly hit the middle of Balan's forehead, making the man's head tilts upwards and his muscular body wobbles back several steps away because of the force.

Noi gasp as he managed to fire the gun and hits the foreign creature on the fatal area, successfully kill the latter with his own hands. Or so he thought.

Noi

I shot him. I fucking shot him! I'm fucking SHOT a person. Well, he might not be a person but he indeed looks like one. And that thought successfully terrifies me greatly.

I was expecting the blood splattered on the wall behind him and see him hit the hard ground, to lay still as his eyes lose their spark. But he didn't. There's no splatter on the wall, no bullet holes on its surface. He didn't fall to the ground. He just stood there as his head still tilting upwards. Chills running on my spine the moment I see his head slightly move side to side as if stretching a tense muscle on his neck. Then his head turns back to its original place. A gaping hole is in clear view, decorating his once smooth forehead. I can see that the bullet indeed hurt him as there is some exposed fresh wound around the bullet. But, no blood leaking out of it.

I can feel myself paling up, turning into a few shades lighter the moment his fingers go inside his own wound and prying out the bullet as it was nothing. I can see the hole slowly closing as he casually looks at the small metal for a moment with a pout on his face. Then the moment he throws it into the fireplace, his forehead is already clean from the wound. As if I didn't just fucking shot that area with a fucking bullet. He then let out an amused chuckle as he wipes his fingers clean to his shirt, staining the once clean fabric with his blood.

My eyes widen because of the horrible sight, making my stomach turns uncomfortably as the urge to vomit starts to appear.

His glowing red eyes turn back to me. The sinister pair go wider in fascination the moment he looks at me, "Never thought a mere painter like you would dare to pull the trigger." his smile goes back to his face, "I love a fighter. You're an exciting one, darling."

He takes big steps towards me, making me whimper in fright and accidentally letting go of the useless gun that I held. I pivot my body and try to run away from him. But he immediately holds my waist, preventing me to get away. My body crashes to his cold and muscular one as his other hand is casually dangling at his side, mocking me how brute his strength is compared to mine. I desperately trash around, trying so hard to pry off the veiny hand that iron-grip my waist and to make a distance between me and him.

My session of trashing around immediately stop the moment he runs his fingers to my neck, making my breath hitch as my eyes frantically looking around because of fright. He let out another chuckle as he keeps on running his digits now to the side of my face, to finally intertwine them with my black locks. He then harshly pull my hair, making me yelp as he forcefully tilts my head to the side, showing the side of my neck to him.

He pulls me closer, crushing my body closer to his and begin sniffling my neck like a pervert person. He let out an exhale, tickling the spot with his cold breath, "Pleasant fragrance. Seems like you are true, a perfect little lamb."

He then pulls my hair again, making me whimper as the pain of being bent awkwardly begin to strain my neck muscle. He leans and starts to run his thin lips to my skin, tickling the surface back with his touch. Then the tickling sensation is replaced by something wet. A tongue, he runs his tongue on my neck, giving pressure as he dampened the surface with his saliva. My vision begins to get blur as fear enveloped me, unconsciously sobbing as he keeps on wetting my neck.

He then let out a mocking shushing sound as his lips still linger on my neck, sending vibration on my exposed skin, "You're scared, little lamb. It'll ruin the taste of your blood. Maybe I should please you in bed to make you taste better. After all, the taste of blood mixes with dopamine is the best one."

My blood runs cold after his statement, making my hands trying to push the chiselled chest harder as my voice finally willing to come out, "Get away from me, you monster!"

Then he let go of my hair and use the same hand to rip my shirt, tearing the fabric with his brute force as the other crush me closer to him. His hand goes back to yank my hair, tilting my head upwards as to show my throat to him. My frantic eyes keep on blinking as still leaking tears and my hand keeps on trying to push him away to no avail.

He suddenly lifts me up, hovering me to the air and my legs start to trash around. But he positioned himself between my legs, preventing me to be able to kick him. My body starts to bend backwards at an awkward angle, hurting my back muscle because of the strain and his arm tightens the grip. My hands desperately pull his collar as I'm afraid I will accidentally fall back. But it seems impossible, considering how hard his grip is on my waist, hurting that spot with his solid muscle.

My breath begins to fasten as the tears are now pouring profusely. My sobs echo in the room, defeating the sound of the ticking clock. His lips start brushing my exposed throat down to my chest, tickling the surface with the tender pair. Then the tickling sensation replaced by pain as his fangs begins to drag on my skin, making it bleed. I choke on my own saliva, surprised by the sudden soreness. He then licks the wounds and hums in delight, "The taste of a beautiful human is truly exquisite."

Then he brings back my face and forces me to look at him, making me whimper in fear. He let out a grin, showing his canines to me. I can see the red spot on each of the tips as my blood tainted his pearly white fangs. His glowing red orbs are now showing another emotion that makes me squirm uncomfortably.

Lust. He's lusting for me.

He then forces me to lean down and crash his lips on mine, making me taste the tangy and metal taste of my own blood. I desperately trash around, punching his chest as he shoves his tongue inside my mouth. The tender organ of his keeps on swirling, tracing my cavity and submitting my tongue. I close my eyes and again, desperately tries to push him away by the chest using all of my remaining strength. But he didn't budge, his body didn't even move slightly away. It as if he's made out of stone.

The kiss feels like it lasts for a long time and I can't pull away because of his firm grip on the back of my head. He sucks every breath inside my mouth, making me dizzy because of the lack of air.

He then releases me from the lengthy kiss, making me cough and desperately inhale to force oxygen into my lungs. Strings of saliva connect our lips, indicating how hard he inserted his dominance to me.

Tiredness taking its tool, making my body limp because of exhaustion. He once again yanks my hair to look at him, making me whimper in fright. I let out sobs as I plead to him, my voice shakes and comes out in whispers, "Balan... please... let me go."

His handsome face shows a glimpse of amusement and satisfaction. The scary red orbs of his are now looking into my half-lidded ones and his lips letting out the same sinister smile.

"You're mine now, little lamb." he says and closes the distance of our lips.

This content is intended for mature audiences for the following reasons.