Kurt & Natasha

It always was very easy. No matter the century, humans always had that itch for adventure and thrills. Even if that itch would send them to the grave.

Natasha loved those small and crowded concert venues. Kurt liked to hunt there too, but she was especially fond of situations in which a lot of people were gathered in a place, letting themselves blend into the collective mood. He remembered her, shortly after he gave her the kiss of death. They were in a small backstreet near the Bastille fortress, and she was feeding on a confused young peasant who never managed to join the crowd that was celebrating the successful assault that would change history.

"Mademoiselle, que faites-vous?", he said while his life started to depart his body and his eyes showed that characteristic look of confusion, as if wondering where all that blood in the ground had come from...

Two hundred years later, the guy in the dirty back alley had exactly the same look. "Some things never change", thought Kurt. Natasha was very skilled at luring strangers to discreet places and, many times, the simple promise of sex was a powerful enough motivator.

Natasha was done drinking and kindly gestured for him to take his turn. Somehow, beyond her savage appearance, Kurt could still see the young and innocent farm girl he fell in love with centuries ago.

"I love you, my dear", he said before biting the confused guy on the other side of the neck.

"I love you too", said Natasha, while the distant echo of the punk rock concert muttered the faint final screams of the victim.