Sisters of the Fallen

Every couple months, one of the village children would disappear never to be seen again. Naturally, the villagers blamed the strange old woman. Whenever she came to the village she would always visit with the children, handing out pocketfuls of leus and sweet candies while tousling the hair of the little tykes and answering to the children's affectionate nickname Gramma Bel. It always seemed to be one of the children she favored most who would be the next to disappear. After enough of their sons and daughters went missing the villagers resolved to do something about it.

Bela was captured and tortured, though she merely laughed at their red hot pokers and thumbscrews when they used them upon her. She was tried in court and sentenced to execution numerous times. But when they tried to hang her, the rope snapped as soon as her body dropped from the scaffolding. When they burned her at the stake, a strong gust of wind snuffed out the flames dancing about Bela's feet and a sudden onset of rain quenched the rest of the fires the villagers might utilize. Before extinguishing, the flames at least managed to weaken the ropes binding Bela's body so she could wriggle her way free.

The villagers tried bundling Bela up in a net and tossing her into the river but a weak binding of rope snagged upon a sharp rock and tore apart, allowing her to escape yet again. They finally tried to simply slit her throat but the knife glided along her neck as if the edge had turned blunt. Bela cackled toothlessly at their futile attempts to execute her. She was protected by powerful witches magic that Mirela has invoked on her behalf. As long as Mirela lived, Bela could not be killed by any mortal craft. Eventually, the crazy old woman was simply left alone and the villagers were at least grateful for the coins she distributed freely at the marketplace. They kept their children far away from her but the kidnappings continued unabated.

Once Bela had reached the end of her days and was kept alive only by Mirela's enchantments, Şarpe finally gave to Bela what she had always wanted. Though she had taken on the appearance of a hag in her old age, with a large, sagging body, stringy gray hair, a misshapen face, and only a single tooth remaining in her mouth, Şarpe had no difficulty arousing himself for her. It gave him a perverse pleasure to stick his cock inside someone considered so undesirable to proper society. Şarpe propped Bela up on her hands on and knees on her bed and held her meaty, wrinkled love handles tightly between his fingers as he penetrated her from behind.

Şarpe fucked her brittle, elderly body roughly, breaking bones in her pelvis and legs and sending her into a stroke before he was finished with her. Bela had been waiting for this moment over fifty years and she always assumed it would be glorious the first time Şarpe made love to her. But with her advanced age and failing body, Bela could hardly feel anything anymore. Not pleasure, nor even pain.

When Şarpe had finished breaking Bela, Mirela swept into the bedroom with light steps so graceful she seemed to be floating. Her feet made no noise as they touched the ground. The vampire queen found Bela lying naked on her stomach on all fours with her flabby, liver-spotted flesh sagging all over the bed. Blood and other fluids leaked from Bela's body, she appeared to have soiled herself at some point while Şarpe deflowered her. The blank stare in Bela's eyes and the drool running down her chin sparked a familiar memory in Mirela's mind but Mirela couldn't recall where she recognized the sight from. Some half-remembered dream, she thought.

Mirela had spent nearly two-thirds of her existence frozen between life and death as a creature of the night. She no longer remembered what it felt like to experience the warmth of the sun's rays upon her skin. Mirela felt cold all the time now, the only exception being when the warm blood of her victims ran down her throat.

The portraits of Mirela's parents that hung from the walls by the staircase had been disposed of decades ago and Mirela could no longer recall the faces of her mother or father. Mirela had forgotten what it sounded like to hear one of her sister's laugh with pure joy or delight rather than mirth or malice.

But more than anything else, Mirela missed Bianca. Her beautiful blue eyes, her radiant blonde hair, her cocky laugh, the way she made Mirela feel like she might die from happiness whenever Bianca smiled at her.

All those precious things had been taken from Mirela a long time ago. Mirela, her age locked into the appearance of a woman just entering the prime of her life, took the wrinkled cheeks of her youngest sister into the palms of her hands and kissed Bela on her forehead.

"I still have never forgiven you, Bela," said Mirela softly. "And I never will. Your usefulness is at an end, I'm afraid. I hereby revoke my protection."

Mirela took the old jeweled witching knife she had recovered from Vivianna's ashes after destroying the Countess and sliced the edge across Bela's throat. Bela made a choking, gurgling noise as blood poured from the opening in her neck and her head fell to the mattress. She gave a few more horrifying wheezes and then was dead within a minute. Şarpe and Mirela surrounded Bela so she perform a final service for them. Şarpe pulled Bela's head up by her hair and let the blood from her ruined throat drip into his and Mirela's open mouths.

Once they had drained Bela completely, Mirela threw Şarpe onto the bed and engulfed her bloodied mouth over Şarpe's cock that was still wet with Bela's fluids. Mirela worked Şarpe's prick down to her throat until she choked and lubricated Şarpe's cock with her bloody saliva that she drooled from her lips down onto the head of his prick. Mirela plunged Şarpe down to her throat again and even then her mouth only covered half his length. Şarpe threw his head back and groaned as Mirela's mouth moved slowly up and down his cock in a perfect rhythm. She purposely scraped her fangs across his prick which would have been torturous for a human but felt like agonizing ecstasy to Şarpe's twisted sense of pleasure. He never felt more alive than when mating immediately after a feeding and due to the enthusiastic manner in which Mirela sucked his cock he had a feeling she felt the exact same way.

With Şarpe's cock still inserted inside her mouth, Mirela swung her legs over his head and placed her cunny atop Şarpe's lips. Mirela ordered him to lick and Şarpe obeyed without hesitation. He normally found the performance of cunnilingis distasteful and emasculating but Mirela had firmly established her dominance over him over the last few decades. Şarpe feared the power of the vampire queen and the demonic magic she wielded even more than he had feared Vivianna. Mirela was much colder and crueler than the former Countess had ever been. Şarpe nipped at Mirela's cunny with his fangs to let flow blood that would enhance the flavor of her discharge and he stuck his tongue out to lap the red fluid out of her opening. Şarpe planted his hands on the curves of Mirela's buttocks and licked her like a dog while at the same time Mirela tried to gag herself on Şarpe's cock.

When she tired of this, Mirela reversed positions and straddled herself between Şarpe's legs. She moaned loudly as she plunged herself down and pierced herself with Şarpe's giant cock. Mirela slowly slid herself down Şarpe's pole until she had swallowed Şarpe's entire length inside her cunny. Mirela lifted herself up to spit his cock out of her opening before taking all of him inside her again.

They fucked each other right next to the still-warm corpse of her sister. Mirela didn't do this kind of thing that often with Şarpe, only after a fresh kill. But when she did engage in sexual activity, Mirela poured everything into her lovemaking. She rode Şarpe with his entire cock buried deep inside her and ground herself against him so hard that her strength would have crumbled a regular human's pelvis to a fine powder. Şarpe's prick was so large that it felt like he had filled over half of Mirela's body. Mirela grunted with satisfied exertion as Şarpe moved within her and she laid her hands on Şarpe's pectorals. She dug her sharp fingernails into the hard muscles of Şarpe's chest until she drew blood.

In a cruel irony, the vampire queen and her Count had become partners in the way that Bela and Şarpe were never able to. Mirela took some small satisfaction from this fact the same way she took her satisfaction from Şarpe. Their essences intermixed as they climaxed and ejaculated blood all over each other. For just a second, Mirela felt an intense feeling of shame and revulsion with herself. She considered destroying Şarpe and committing suicide by sunlight to dispel the unclean feeling. But that notion quickly fled and Mirela curled up next to the Count so she could enjoy a few fleeting moments of warmth and sensation before she felt dead inside again. Bela's body turned cold next to them as they cuddled.

Afterwards, Bela's corpse was unceremoniously dumped in the woods behind the manor. Some stray animals picked at her flesh but none found her appetizing enough to actually consume. There were none left who would have mourned her passing. Bela rotted next to the household she had destroyed, the mansion still inhabited by the living corpses of the sisters she had betrayed.

Over time, rumors and legends spread through the region about a dark manor located in the middle of a haunted forest. Wanderers who claimed to have entered the woods said they saw women living within it who matched the description of old Lord Pierocent's daughters. Only the eldest villagers were alive the same time as the Pierocent girls and they spoke plaintively of fine ladies who possessed breathtaking beauty that was unseen in this land these days. The unfounded claims of sighting women within the forest were laughed at and derided of course. No one entered those woods and lived to tell the tale. Those that laughed were hard put to explain the darkness that had swept over the land since the Pierocent girls had disappeared after their parent's deaths. War, murders, disappearances, injustices, and indecencies had increased tenfold since the time the manor had been abandoned.

The legend of the haunted manor changed with each new telling until the circumstances of the Pierocent girls' corruption had morphed from a vague semblance of truth to pure fiction, though there was still a germ of verisimilitude in those ghost stories. Rather than a cautionary tale about how unfortunate young women had been led astray and betrayed by their own blood, the plight of the Pierocent girls instead became a tale for mothers to tell that warned their children about the perils of sexual sin. Mothers admonished their sons and daughters to keep their knickers tied tightly or else they might end up a meal for the Pierocent girls or find themselves cursed to live for eternity as an evil creature just like them.

Storytellers spoke of a girl who had lusted for a sister of her own flesh and blood and had suffered to see her body twisted and warped into the devil's image.

They told of another sister who had lusted unceasingly and had become a monster who drank the blood of infants. She preyed on the young and would steal the virginity and the soul of any innocent unfortunate enough to cross her path.

Most stories failed to mention the sister who had lusted for a man so desperately that she had betrayed everyone who ever loved her only to ultimately be spurned by the object of her infatuation for all her trouble. Truly, she had been the first to fall.

The most repeated story was the tragic tale of a woman who despite being so faithful, so pious, so pure and so good had been turned against her will into the very evil she opposed. Mothers were quick to remind their children that even the most faithful could fall to darkness if they were not cautious.

These were the sisters of the fallen.

+++++ Epilogue: The Rising +++++

Wilderness on the border of Jordan and Israel, Modern Day

Mirela worked her incantation carefully, waving her arms rhythmically and trying to stay undistracted by the fearsome growls and thrashings of the beast. It had taken her weeks to capture the creature after flying from Romania to Egypt. If Eduard or Loredana had an inkling of what Mirela was up to, they wouldn't hesitate to kill her. She gave them some excuse about leaving Sidexes to inspect some of their safe houses throughout Europe but she could tell they suspected she was lying. Lies came as easily as breathing to Mirela any more.

Mirela had been tracking the location of this beast for over a century. Wherever it appeared, discord and atrocities seemed to follow in its wake. Mirela first detected its presence in Europe a hundred years before and it continued from there to Russia and then East Asia before it seemed to go dormant and the trail grew cold. But Mirela recently heard rumors of a creature in the Middle East that locals called 'The Ifrit'. Bedouins living in the area claimed a demon was corrupting good men and turning them into religious fanatics who committed terrible acts in the name of Islam

Tracking and capturing the beast was difficult enough but transporting the creature to this place proved even more arduous. The ancient Christian church had been buried beneath the sand of a great desert for millennia until erosion recently revealed its existence. The church originated from the earliest days of Christianity when adherents of that faith knew how to deal with such creatures as Mirela had brought here. Mirela covered every cross and religious symbol carefully, though it burned her fingertips and eyes to do so. She felt nervous even being in here. This was after all the first time Mirela had stepped inside a church or holy place in four hundred years.

The beast growled at her and fought against the invisible bonds that held it in place against the altar. Mirela's body felt wet with a nervous sweat, a rarity for her considering her usual poise and the chronic chill she always endured between feedings. One lapse in concentration and all her binding spells would be interrupted, releasing the monster that would assuredly tear Mirela limb from limb before consuming her flesh. Mirela sighed in relief as she finished her incantation with a final wave of her hand. She stood back and watched carefully to see if it had worked. Mirela had learned how to correctly perform an exorcism from ancient Christian texts and could only hope she had executed the many steps properly and in the right order. It was hard for Mirela to overstate how strange it was for her to cast white magic rather than black.

The beast ceased its frantic thrashing and looked upward as it breathed heavily. Then suddenly it bellowed loudly and thrashed anew as a red light began glowing between the mounds of its chest. The beast was lifted into the air by its chest and pelvis with its limbs still bound to the altar. The red light withdrew from the beast's form and floated in the air high above it as the creature fell back down to the altar. The glowing light swirled in the air and grew smaller and smaller until it could fit between the palms of Mirela's hands. Mirela made a motion with her fingers like she was snuffing out a candle and the red light disappeared entirely with a silent scream that Mirela felt rather than heard. Despite the absence of the light, the room actually seemed less dark since the evil spirit had been exorcised and banished to the Hell from whence it came.

"Please let this work," Mirela prayed for the first time in centuries. "Please God."

The creature's eyes fluttered open and looked about the sanctuary in confusion before settling upon Mirela. The expression on the beast's face softened and almost looked human when it recognized her. Mirela heard it speak in a sweet, chiming voice rather than the growling rasp it cursed Mirela with earlier. It was a voice that Mirela thought she would never hear again.

"Mellie?"

+++++ The End +++++

Thank you for taking the time to read my story! Remember this is a 2016 Halloween Story Contest entrant so don't forget to vote! Between plotting, drafting, writing, revising, and editing I've spent nearly a year of my life on this so please take the time to read this and be courteous and honest with your votes, comments and feedback. If the response to this work is enthusiastic enough I might consider writing more long-form stories like this that have a heavier focus on plot than just simply erotica. I do have an entire sequel to this story sort of planned out which I'll probably save for the Halloween after next (in 2018) unless enough people demand it sooner. Thanks again for reading and Happy Halloween!