An Unbirthday Treat

He couldn’t scream.

As ever it was soon over.

Swift.

Quick.

Clean.

***

It's my favourite night of the year. After waking from my afternoon nap I am buzzing. Even though some of my peers think I'm too old to make such a splash I don't agree. I look forward to this anniversary every year. It's significant. A date to remember, to mark on the calendar. I plan to enjoy it as I always have.

Looking at a reflection that others cannot see I am satisfied. My expensive, well-cut charcoal grey suit complements my pale skin. My eyes shine and my hair is glossy, the touches of grey enhancing rather than distracting from my distinguished look. I've never been so handsome. My exquisite taste shows in my appearance and in the decor of my home.

The guests arrive. The lights are low, the music is loud. I feel it pulsing through my body. I shiver in anticipation of what's to come. The room is full with the beautiful crowd, all here to celebrate. Like me, all night owls rather than morning larks, they're set to party through until dawn. I haven't bothered with lavish food and drink. Why pretend that anyone's here for that. It's the pulse of the beat and the sexual tension and yours truly that's attracted them all. No cake, or candles, either. If I'm honest I haven't the lung capacity I once had.

I'm not the only one to throw such an event. Others follow my lead. But their attempts are pale imitations in comparison to my annual bash. News travels and the place is fuller than ever. Friends and acquaintances have come from far and wide, even the ones who scoffed at the invitation.

I slowly circle the room, pausing to listen to a conversation or two. They tell me that eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves but there's nothing but praise and respect for me. In need of space I walk towards the patio doors. It takes longer than it should as everyone wants to speak to me, to touch me if they can. Once outside I gaze at the stars. The air is cold, the moon is full. Perfect conditions for my special night.

Turning back to the crowd I see one of the most attractive women walking towards me. She enfolds me in her arms. For a long time we move to the music, our bodies as one. As old friends, we're used to each others' touch and smell. We do no more than stroke and kiss, a sweet aperitif for what's to come for each of us. She can have anyone in the room she desires. I see dozens of eyes watching her, watching us, following our silky, sultry moves.

We part. My rendezvous with an innocent beckons. A treat to myself in honour of the occasion.

Once more I step outside.

There is a scent on the air.

No need to travel far.

Satiated I bypass the party to rest awhile. No problem. The night is young and there will be plenty more opportunity for pleasures of the (dead) flesh.  

***

He couldn’t scream.

But why would he want to with a future such as mine to look forward to.