Wind blown leaves scattered around the Quadrangle. Zipping up his Varsity jacket, Jayin Mehra exited the lecture hall, and then walked out of the ivy-clad precincts of Miskatonic University. Jayin was one of many students finishing classes for the day but unlike the others, he wasn't laughing or chatting.
He felt completely alone, out of place, as solitary as a hermit. And like an anchorite, he was returning to his hermitage – a single room in one of the University's newly built apartment complexes. It was a bland, beige box fitted with a single bed, a dresser and a cheap desk for his laptop. Students weren't even allowed to pin up posters so Jayin hadn't bothered and the cell, no, room he amended, was as featureless as the day he moved in.
Although cool and grey, the late afternoon in mid November was dry and Jayin looked up at the clouds. He thought it would rain overnight. Jayin didn't fancy returning just yet to the bland anonymity of his studio so he turned left along Garrison Street towards the Miskatonic river. As he walked, he passed the clustered gambrel roofs of the ancient houses. Most had been refurbished and gentrified in recent years, but here and there Jayin saw those which had resisted the developers and he wondered what unwholesome secrets lay concealed behind their broken lead paned windows and worm-eaten doors.
As he approached the river, he turned down some narrower side streets. These houses leaned over him, until the grey sky was now a ribbon far above. Looking around, Jayin realised he was alone; one single leaf from the great tree of the student body. He felt so lonely, so isolated, and so unhappy. What was the point of his studies? What was the use of it all? If it wouldn't upset his over-proud parents and all their relatives back in the Punjab, he'd quit Uni and return home.
No. Not quite alone. One solitary woman was approaching, her heels click-clacking on the re-laid cobbles. In the gloom, she cast no shadow. She was tall, at least his height. As she got closer Jayin wondered if she was a student. No, he decided. Although young enough, she was too well dressed in a soft, fawn coloured leather jacket over a yellow skirt that swung in time with her hips.
Even closer, Jayin saw the girl was beautiful. Not that there was a shortage of pretty girls at Miskatonic but this girl was in a league above. She had long, dark hair, full red lips, brown eyes that hinted of mystery and white teeth, just slightly uneven enough to be natural and not capped or veneered. Beautiful red nails. Jayin didn't dare look at her body; he didn't want this sophisticated looking woman thinking that he was just another hormone-crazed adolescent.
So he kept his eyes up as they neared, casting one nervous glance at her face. The woman smiled. Automatically, Jayin smiled back, before taking another pace, confused. He hadn't expected that. The woman didn't look like a hooker; she looked more like a successful PA or sales assistant in one of Arkham's upmarket stores. She stopped walking.
"I shouldn't ask, but if you want, would you like to go for a drink?" the woman asked. Her voice was hesitant, unsure of herself or his reaction. "Only if you want; it's just that you look lonely, like me," she added.
Jayin was taken aback. He hadn't expected that, but the young woman's tone was gently inviting. He thought for only an instant. "There's some bars and cafés down by the river." He'd never entered them, but they seemed the best place to go.
The woman shook her head. "No. I know somewhere quieter near here. I only live round the corner."
Was that an invite, Jayin wondered? The woman linked her arm in his and took him down some ancient mossy alleys that even Jayin's wanderings had never shown him. There was nothing more recent than the War of 1812 here. Soon, she led him into a low-ceilinged bar with wood panelled walls and a rack of antique flintlocks behind the bar. Jayin didn't recognise any of the brands of beer. No checks on ID so they shared a bottle of country red wine as they talked, the alcohol putting a flush on the girl's cheeks and making her lips seem redder, contrasting with her teeth whilst warming Jayin.
Outside, it was full dark now. They huddled together against the chill. "I live very near," she reminded Jayin. "I have a bottle of rum we can share, love." She sounded shy, as if afraid Jayin would refuse her.
He smiled, relaxed and at ease now. He felt happier, unable to believe his luck. "C'mon then."
Round the corner, under a flickering streetlight and then up a flight of worn stone stairs. The girl unlocked a door on the first floor. Her apartment was simply but tastefully furnished. Scented lilies filled a vase, filling the room with a funereal smell, whilst drapes fluttered wraith-like at the open window. The bed already had its covers turned down. The woman sat, patted its edge, kicked off her shoes and rolled down her stockings. Jayin undressed, shivering, and lay beside her.
"Let me warm you up," she said her voice low and urgent now.
She licked her lips, her tongue flickering out over long, sharp teeth. Why hadn't he noticed how sharp they were before? Alarmed, Jayin pushed himself up from the pillows but the girl's hand pushed him back down; her nails, no her claws now scoring his chest. He cried out as her reddened eyes reflected the trails of blood. The girl placed her talons over Jayin's mouth sealing his lips. Then she put her mouth to Jayin's neck. There was a sharp scratch and then she kissed. And kissed. Soon, Jayin's struggles weakened and ceased altogether as blood flowed from his body into this creature...