One more bite won't hurt

Gerard sat slumped against the wall, his teeth still dripping with blood and in his eyes there still swam his memories of his last bite. His black hair was mingled with ageing blood and he swept away the curdling crimson liquid from the corner of his mouth with his finger; before allowing it to drip from his glove onto his awaiting tongue. The metallic taste made his eyes water and his taste buds stand on end and he replenished at the thought of just one more drop, but the supplier of such a curious taste had been drained till it turned a pale ghostly white. And as soon as blood had slipped down his throat and began curdling in his stomach he breathed a sigh of disappointed and his skeletal hands clutched each other as he wondered what he should do. But then he seemed to pluck a thought out of thin air. He would take them home and then decide what to do as the cold was biting through his black jumper that hung to his frame.

Gerard dragged himself up from the floor, using the cracks in the crumbling grey wall to pull himself up to his feet and he wandered over to the body. You could have tricked someone into thinking that the figure lying on the floor was a person who was simply taking a quick power nap, the only strange thing being the paleness of their skin and the almost invisible bite mark in the side of the neck. Still Gerard gently knelt down and moved the limp arms into a more convenient position and he pulled the body into a sitting position leaning them against the icy cold wall.

"Such a pretty face..." He sounded disappointed as he gently moved his hand on the side of his victims face, allowing the heat from his own hand to escape into the cold grey flesh. He ran his fingers over the figures eyes till they closed and placed a kiss softly on the forehead; curling the mousy hair around his finger repetitively.

"Now then....lets get you home...."
His holdall lay staring at him from the other side of the room, the black shining leather reflecting the light of the moon that hung about in the sky. He glided towards it and dragged it back to the corpse which lay patiently. As if he was an expert, he arranged the body in such away that it fitted perfectly in the soft cloth of the bag; as if it was simply folded up like a piece of flat pack ikea furniture.

With bag and corpse slung cheerfully across his shoulder Gerard left the old stone building and walked out into the gentle light that the moon was casting on the world. He walked past the park, through the alleyway, across the street, climbed the hill past all the posh houses with their wrought iron gates and their Porsches lined up in rows. He carried on past them until the street began to turn shabbier watching as the street lights began to flicker above his head. He passed the derelict house to his right, to his left, past the obvious grower of 'magical plants and mushrooms', past the house that stunk of booze and barely living souls until he reached his house that lay in the shadows of the estate.

He placed the bag on the doorstep and used his body weight to creak open the door, dragging the corpse through the doorway after him before slamming the door shut behind; locking it at least 4 times. He was safe. For now anyway.

Notes

Hiya. Um, not really sure what this is; just wanted to write something a little different. Hope this wasn't a waste of your time. Thank you. :) x
-Lou