"Weren't you supposed to be white, Carla?" Hunter asked, his voice strained.
Laylay, (or more accurately, Carla), looked upon him, her tone light as she spoke. "I'm going to move over to the passenger seat. If you try anything, I will kill you. If you make any sudden movements, I will kill you. If you so much as startle me-"
"Let me guess, you'll kill me," Hunter cut her short, his voice strained despite the wittiness he tried to portray.
It was dark out, quiet even. Yes, there was the chatter of the crowd outside, cameras and flashing phones, but all of it was focused on the building, the rest of the world was still grey.
In the dead of night, his car was practically unnoticeable, much less the people inside.
"Hmm," Hunter groaned as the black woman suddenly scooted and sat on his lap, recapturing his attention instantly.
She smelled sweet, like vanilla, but that was beside the point.
"Move," Carla whispered, prompting Hunter to scoot over to the driver's seat, careful not to hurt himself.
Carla's tail remained curled around his neck, tightening slightly as she tensed. The texture was deeply uncomfortable, like how a snake would feel if held for the first time.
"Drive," the woman commanded, her voice deathly calm as she surveyed the surroundings.
She seemed a bit jumpy, as if she was afraid of something, what that thing was remained unclear to Hunter.
"Were-" Hunter attempted to ask for a location, but he felt the tail tighten around his neck, it was brief, but that moment was enough to completely cut off his air supply.
He was now aware that even though the tail did not pierce his neck directly, it could easily suffocate him. 'That certainly would be less messy," he joked to himself, trying to make light of the situation.
"Vroom!"
Hunter started the car and drove away from the scene, joining the busy streets as he gulped, his swallowing hindered by the tail around his neck.
"You know, being a terrorist is not as cool as it sounds, or are you like a witch or something?" Hunter asked, his tone riddled with curiosity. "Your powers could end racism."
"Left," Carla simply directed, ignoring his attempts at conversation, forcing him to turn to a street that led to the highway.
"C'mon, you're gonna enslave me with your voodoo juju magic soon anyway. What's the harm in telling me?" Hunter shrugged, trying to sound unbothered, but his heart was pounding in his chest.
Carla seemed a bit amused by this sight, her lips curling into a small smile, "You seem stressed," she intoned.
'Of course I'm stressed, you fucking witch, no, calm down, be logical, but she fucking changed her skin color, how the fuck does that work?' Hunter cursed rapidly in his mind, debating with himself, but outside, he was calm, smiling even. "Yeah, I've had a tough day, I imagine, you've had it worse," he answered.
"You have no idea," Carla scoffed, her hand, moving to caress his lap, gently tracing the wrinkles of his pants.
"Ehh, what-"
"Hush," Carla interrupted Hunter before he could ask another probing question, her fingers at work, unzipping his fly.
'The fuck is going on,' Hunter thought, his heartbeat increasing, his hand tense on the steering wheel as he felt her fingers slide under his boxers.
"It's soft," Carla whispered, her form drawing closer to his, her breath hot against his ear.
She then removed his dick from his fly, slowly stroking it, her eyes misty as she observed him.
If it wasn't for the tail still wrapped firmly around his neck, with the tip pointed at his Adam's apple, Hunter could have mistaken this woman for some drug-addled prostitute, if her current expression was anything to go by.
'I'm not an animal,' He tried to control himself, tried to clear his mind as he drove, gulping hard as he focused on the road.
But Carla wouldn't let him, leaning even closer to him, "You've wanted to fuck me since the moment you laid eyes on me, haven't you, Detective? To punish my little black pussy?"
As she spoke those words, Carla felt Hunter's limp shaft, start to harden in her grasp.
"That's better," she breathed on his neck, planting soft kisses on his head and ears. Hunter could hardly focus on driving, waves of pleasure coursing through him as Carla stroked him.
"Thump!"
"Thump!"
Short, sharp thumps could be heard in the car, accompanied by Hunter's breath, (heavy and weighty). But he wasn't the only one breathing, he could feel Carla's breath, hear it even.
"How does it feel? Having your little black slut serve you," Carla whispered in his ear, her voice sending shivers down his spine.
"Screech!" The car swerved off course, slightly, but Hunter quickly corrected.
The air had grown musty, with Carla already pressing half her form on Hunter, her hand movement increasing, jerking, jerking until-
"Argh!" Hunter came, his seed shooting upward before being forced down by gravity, spewing on Carla's hand like some kind of thick lotion.
A purple glow flashed within Carla's eyes in that moment, a chest heaving slightly as a satisfied smile appeared on her face.
Hunter on the other hand, felt his gaze blur, a feeling of weakness instantly overcoming him.
"W-what did you do?" he asked, his vision swimming, his face deathly pale as he passed out over the steering wheel.
"Screech!"
"Swoosh!" Carla quickly opened the door and dashed out of the speeding car.
"Argh!" She grunted as she rolled violently on the street, incurring stinging wounds from the asphalt.
But she just got up, watching as Hunter's car crashed into a nearby building.
"BAM!" The sound was suddenly and jarringly loud, shocking the few passersby and the residents of the area.
"What the fuck!"
"Fuck! Whoever be driving that thing be dead!"
"Call Emergency!"
More than a few pedestrians looked over at Carla, having seen her jump out of the moving vehicle.
Carla on the other hand, instantly felt many gazes on her, and it was then that she curiously scrutinized her surroundings for the first time.
She was in a dark street. Most of the stores were closed, with the only light coming from a few liquor shops and a club, where a long line of people were staring at her.
"Are you ok, girl?" A few skimpily dressed girls quickly approached her, offering to help.
"Y-yeah, I'm ok," Carla stuttered, having long since hidden her tail.
"You're not ok, oh my God, you're bleeding," one of the ladies, a dark-skinned woman with dyed blonde hair, spoke, lifting Carla's arm, which she swiftly pulled back.
"I'm fine," she insisted as she rose, nodding to the car. "There was a guy in there."
"There's someone in there," one of the ladies exclaimed, gasping at the car, which had the entire front hood crushed into the building.
As the women fussed over the car, Carla moved to retreat into the shadows, but then she felt that familiar chill run down her spine.
She already knew many eyes were watching her, but this one felt colder, more intent, more horrifyingly familiar.
Following her instincts, her gaze trailed to the top of one of the apartment buildings, her pupils dilating at a figure crouched on the highest point, staring straight at her.
The more she looked, the more familiar this figure became, and as the black clouds moved ever so slightly and the rays of the blue moon shone on it, she caught a glimpse.
'Valen!' Her eyes widened in terror, "How!" She muttered, blinking to get a better look but he was gone.
She looked around, gritting her teeth, and found the club entrance, which she dashed into at a speed unnatural to a human.
"Hey!" The bouncer had no chance to stop her as she had already passed.
Meanwhile-
"Bam!"
Mr. Valen's figure landed on the ground before the club, concealed by shadows and, of course, the car that had crashed into a nearby building.
His mind was hazy, consumed by a nagging feeling of hunger.
«Consume!»
«Devour!»
«Ravage!»
Seductive voices whispered in his ears, suggestions on what he might do to his prey, perhaps.
He looked around and from his point of view the world was much darker, a thick inky black, with white outlines portraying obstacles.
He looked at the people waiting in line and saw only humanoid, whitish figures.
His gaze then focused on the club walls, his pupils dilating as he saw the whitish figures dancing within, but amid those figures was a single glowing red humanoid.
Upon registering this figure he moved, walking towards the bouncer, his face concealed by his hoodie.
"Hey! Get in line!" One bystander, a familiar lady at the front of the line, shouted, incurring the rage of others who stood in line.
The bouncer (a large man wearing a black T-shirt) narrowed his eyes at Mr. Valen, who was still approaching after pausing for a moment.
He was already pissed by the woman who had slipped past him, so he stretched his hand, firmly gripping onto Mr. Valen's shoulders. "You heard them, get in line kid, before I make you."
But something was wrong, as the man before him looked up, the bouncer saw a pale face, but nothing could prepare him for the eyes.
Pitch black with not a hint of white in them, eyes that seemed to swirl endlessly, like two black holes.
Mr. Valen grunted, stepping back.
All he felt was hunger, mind-boggling, maddening hunger for only one type of meal, and as the bouncer put his hand on his shoulder, he saw not a human but an obstruction, a whirling mass of humanoid white light that he simply had to eliminate.