Sarah's Hunger: Part Three

A burning pain seared Sarah's left arm. "What are you doing to me, bitch?"

"Keep her quiet, please, Bertie," Mildred ordered. "There's a good fellow."

The needle sharp blade was raked ever so slightly over Sarah's throat, drawing the tiniest trickle of blood. It was a warning from an expert killer. Bertie looked on ravenously as a glistening drop of ruby red ran down Sarah's neck. Dropping the knife, in a frenzy, he tongued her throat like an ice cream cone. Sarah convulsed against the ropes. Weakness and nausea swept through her.

"Naughty boy, Bertie. Wait your turn," Mildred scolded.

"Yes Nannie." Bertie licked his lips. "You're a tasty slut. Very sweet, I'll say that for you," he chuckled. "When Nannie's had her bit of supper, I'll drain you dry."

Sarah felt a surge of warmth replace the burn in her arm. Looking down, she saw red blood worming its way through a clear tube to an IV bag. Very neat. Aseptic. "Why?" she gasped.

Mildred manipulated the tubing, entranced by the oozing blood. "Don't worry dear, from here on it's perfectly painless. Let me see...how to explain...so that a junkie twit would understand." She hunched over Sarah, face contorting, white fangs jutting suddenly between thin cyanotic lips.
"We're vampires, you little fool. And you...you're our picnic."

"And our carry out snack as well," chirped Bertie gaily.