(Copying Ichijou) Overdrive

She was a happy child. She always had been, all of her life. That was before she was introduced to the truth. Before she was introduced to him. To Damian.

The sun had just gone down when Taralynn Donahue rolled out of bed, memories of the previous night racing through her head. Pale legs shone in the semi-darkness, sticking out from beneath her pink shorts. A white tank top hung ruffled around her slender form. Thin, light brown hair fell to the middle of her back. Her locks were touched by splashes of color, pink here and some blue there. There was orange and green in her slanted bangs. Her blue eyes blinked wearily at the digital clock on her nightstand. It was scarecly seven p.m. Tara groaned and stumbled across the hall to take a shower.

The hot water streaming over her body did little to revive her. All of the girl's movements were tired, buy strangely graceful. A sense of stumbling poise surrounded her like an aura. After she finished washing up, Tara simply stood under the jet of water, staring blankly at the tiled wall, not really seeing it.

A voice called from downstairs. Tara mechanically turned the knobs to shut off the water and stepped out, reaching for her purple towel. She was only half shocked to find him holding it out to her. Her master.

Tara took the towel silently and wrapped it aorund her. For a few moments, they simply regarded eachother. Then, after a nod from him, she started to dry herself off, showing no sign of shame at her state of undress. His dark eyes watched her movements closely. When she was finished he beckoned to her and she stepped towards him. Her face betrayed no emotion as he gripped her shoulders and turned her around; he ran his fingers through her hair before gathering it up and draping it across her shoulder. His lips pressed gently against the skin at her throat. She couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down her spine, but a smile graced her lips.

She truly loved these moments with her master. His nails dug deep into her skin. The pain was intense, intensely pleasurable. His teeth pressed against her neck; her nerve endings sent pulsing electronic messages to the receptors in her brain, which were going crazy from the sensation. And then it came, the moment when his fangs pierced the barrier of her skin and they were as one, joined by blood.

Seconds passed, then minutes, and finally Tara saw black starting to gather at the corners of her vision. She crumpled to the floor, her master wiping his mouth clean of blood. And then he was gone.