The room was covered in darkness and one could barely make out the furniture which was covered in tarps that hadn’t been moved in over a decade. Silence pervaded the room and seemed to press upon you, filling you with a chilling dread that caused you to speak in a whisper for fear of offending some dark power.
Slowly she walked into the room and gracefully stretched out her arms. Then, gradually, she began to dance and twirl to music that only she could hear, deftly avoiding the furniture though it was far too dark for her to see. She flowed from one end of the room to the other with an eerie grace as the air from her passing raised clouds of dust in her wake.
Faster and faster she moved, her limbs becoming a blur in her frantic dance. Gradually, light started to emanate from her body creating a ghostly aura that lit the immediate surroundings and gave brief glimpses of the paintings that decorated the walls as well as the covered tables and chairs. Faster and faster she twirled, spinning in her frenzied dance, until...
Dead still, in front of one of the two large tarp covered chairs placed before the large bay windows that were shrouded in thick purple drapes. Her motion ceased as if she had never started moving, as still as a statue.
The pale light emanating from her body gave her a ghostly appearance. Dark red hair flowed, nearly weightless, to the middle of her back. Her slender body was clad in a short black skirt and red satin blouse whose color set off her deep green eyes and pale white skin.
Her face had a classic beauty with high cheek bones and narrow chin, along with full lips that gave her a perpetual pout. She seemed such a fragile thing. At least until one looked closer. Then it was easy to see that her skin held the hardness of marble instead of the softness of flesh. Her eyes held a passion that set fire to her liquid green eyes, setting them aflame with an emerald fire.
Those eyes were fixed on one of the two chairs in front of her. Memories from a long ago childhood flooded through her as she stared at this chair. Slowly, she reached out and pulled the tarp off of the chair. Then she bent, ignoring the heavy dust cloud that had formed from the tarps movement, and spread the tarp neatly on the ground in front of the chair.
Rising from the tarp she glided over to sit in the chair. The size of it seemed to swallow her small frame as she huddled in it. She wrapped her arms around herself as she sat there and closed her eyes. Her nostrils flared almost able to smell that beloved scent of her father’s pipe that used to permeate this chair.
A small smile creased her lips and she could feel strong arms wrap tight around her. The way her father’s arms would as she rushed to sit with him after he had gotten home. He would have a pipe between his lips and she would cling to him smelling the sweet smell of his pipe and the musk of his cologne. Her smile widened as she felt, if only for a fleeting moment, like that innocent little girl from so long ago. Held safe, safe within the arms of a man who loved her.
A red tear slowly rolled down her cheek as she remembered what had happened to him. As she brushed the tear away her face became hard as she recalled what she had done to the men responsible for his death and the thought of the blood that had been spilled reawakened her hunger.
It was time to feed.
Rising up to stand on the tarp she beckoned with her dainty hand and a dark shape formed at the entrance to the room. She could sense his confusion through the haze of her control. He was wondering what he was doing here and why he couldn't help himself. She could taste the hint of fear forming in his gut that was brought on by the ethereal glow about her.
She had lured him here from the bar where they had met, leading him on with advances and subtle physical touches and tempting phrases. He had thought he was about to get laid. Well, he was about to have the time of his life. The act of feeding could be pure ecstasy, pure agony, or a mixture of both. This young man was about to have an experience that would change him forever.
She smiled at him as he came to stand in front of her. His blue eyes were startling bright, it had been his eyes that had first caught her attention. So like the eyes of another that she had known. Though that was where the resemblance stopped, it was enough. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at this young man, well not quite a man, not yet anyway. His dark black hair was cut short and his shoulders were quite broad.
Stepping closer she flattened the palms of her hands on his chest and slid them over his strong pectoral muscles to the rippled obliques. She felt his body tense at first but quickly started to relax as she pressed her body against his and kissed his neck, ever so softly. Her body trembled as she felt the steadily building throb of his pulse. It was strong and swift, driven by his desire.
His strong hands were now sliding down her back and pulling her body tight. She could feel his chest rise and fall against hers and could sense his arousal. She smiled up at him mischievously as she started to slide a fingertip along the waist of his jeans, then lower.
She nearly laughed as he blushed brightly. His shyness however didn’t keep his hands from reaching for the buttons of her blouse. If she didn't know better she would have thought he was a virgin from how eager he seemed. His hands trembled as he started to undo her buttons.
She took his hands in hers and pulled them away from her body. Her eyes fixed on his and narrowed as she stepped back from him and laid down on the tarp. Her hands slid over her full breasts and she took a moment to swirl her fingers over the tips of her nipples causing them to grow hard and stand out under the thin fabric of her blouse. She giggled as she saw the way his jaw dropped and drool; literally, start to form on his lower lip.
Then, with an almost savage growl, she gripped the front of her blouse and tore it open exposing her pale breasts with their tender pink nipples. Cupping her breasts with her hands she pushed them together then brought one nipple up so that she could run her tongue over it. As she did she watched his face and saw his shock and trepidation overcome by his passion and lust.
To urge him on she flicked her tongue over each nipple causing them to swell even more. Then she ran her hands, palms flat against her body, down her stomach, over her hips, to her inner thigh. Slowly she drew them back, lifting her skirt exposing a red satin thong. As she slowly rubbed herself with one hand she raised the other to her lips and sucked on the tip of her finger.
As she thought, that was more than the poor boy could take and he started to flail about removing his clothes with a speed that she found quite remarkable. He got down to his boxers that had the logo of his college on it when he stumbled and fell on the tarp beside her.
Laughing at his clumsiness she kissed his lips and reached down caressing him. He eyes widened in mild surprise and she looked down. She smiled at what she saw as she slowly stroked him. She let his tongue part her lips as she guided his body into position as she spread her legs wide.
A groan escaping both their lips as she slowly guided him to just the right position and he pressed himself against her. Gradually her body yielded to the pressure and he glided inside. She sighed feeling him deep inside her. She locked her gaze on his as he pushed himself up on his arms and started to move in and out in a rhythmical sequence.
Before long she felt his thrusts threaten to drive her hips through the floor. She gasped and groaned loving every second. She had had many lovers, several better, but few as enthusiastic.
As his body picked up speed and urgency she pulled his head down kissing him deeply, her lips sucking on his tongue then moving along his strong jaw. Gradually, her lips found the pulse of his neck and her tongue flicked out over that perfect spot where the blood flowed closest to the skin and the pulse was the strongest.
Her mouth opened wider and slowly her canine teeth extended forming fangs and she placed them gently over his pulse. When his body shivered with his orgasm she bit. Sinking her teeth deep into the artery she felt the blood rush into her at the moment of his climax.
Her eyes flashed open wide and took on a glazed look as the rush of the blood carried his orgasmic pleasure and memories into her. At that moment she knew him more intimately than anyone had ever known him. She knew when he had lost his virginity, she knew that he had a problem with drinking, and she could even tell how he got that small scar on his knee from when he fell as a child.
Gradually, the flood of memories slowed and stopped. With a gasp she pulled back from his still jerking body and let him collapse on the tarp. For a moment she just laid there reveling in the feelings and memories that she had absorbed through her union with this man. Then she turned over and put her fingers over his neck to see if his heart still beat.
She nodded slightly as she felt as faint but steady throb of his pulse. “Good, he would survive,” she thought as she crawled over and straddled his inert form. Softly she began to chant in a language that was long dead. Not for four thousand years had the Sumerian language been spoken as a living language, but she said the words with a practiced fluidity that spoke of many hours spent learning this most ancient of languages.
As the strange words filled the room with its odd syntax and accent she drew a nail along the inside of her wrist raising a thin line of blood. She lowered her wrist over his forehead and allowed several drops to fall and pool upon his head. Then with a final arcane phrase she used her fingernail to draw a Sumerian symbol in the blood.
With a final word the symbol flared with a sudden fire and the blood seemed to be consumed. Gradually the fire drew in on itself and seemed to sink into his brow.
“You will now serve me and me alone,” she said as she lay down over his body and whispered in his ear. “You are my servant and will aid me in all things.”
The binding ritual completed she stood and lifted him as if he weighed no more than a babe. Walking easily she carried him to a guest room that was on the same floor as the room they were in and laid him out on the bed.
Once he was covered up she went to the window and opened the curtains. She always liked to watch the sun as it rose. Let its rays touch her for a moment before she slept. To feel its rays leech her power from her and make her feel frail and mortal again.
She knew that she was probably alone of her kind to do this to herself each morning. But, she found it to be a valuable reminder to never take her power for granted or to take any mortal human lightly. Long ago she had done just that. She thought that he would be easy prey. But, he had defeated her with his faith.
“No, not just his faith,” she forced herself to admit.
As the sun’s rays cascaded into the room and fell upon her body she raised her arms as if in worship to the great orb in the sky. She ignored the physical pain that always accompanied the light and the fatigue that came with the leaching of her power. She withstood it with the determination and iron will that had raised her to be among the mighty of her kind. Few could stand the sun’s rays as she did and she reveled in that fact.
She turned her eyes to the steeple that was highlighted by the sun as it rose over the horizon. She remembered the feelings she had felt for this man. She remembered how only two men had ever loved her with pure unselfish love. One had been her father. The other she had come to destroy. With that thought she shut the curtain to block the light and lay in the bed with her new servant to await the night.BACK TO TOP