A Vampire's Tale

The blood was thick, cold, and still; unlike mortal blood which flowed in great fountains, warm and bright cherry red. The blood burned his throat as it slid its way down, he found himself lost in memories which were not his own. He traveled to countries in which he had never been, he knew sweet women he had never kissed, tasted the strength of men he had never known. He experienced the mortal death and the immortal birth of Dominicus, he saw the ones Dominicus had chosen to share his gift, he saw the whole of mortal and immortal life though the eyes of Dominicus, he felt a renewed strength flowing through his body, the silence of other immortals now shouted, he languished in these new feelings and sensations, his body uncontrollably quivering.

Dominicus pushed him away; he rolled in the floor, alive with sensation. Dominicus was upon him; eagerly he dug his fangs into Lucian’s neck, gulping with greedy anticipation. Lucian too weak from his own revere allowed Dominicus to drink deeply of him, sharing his existence and experiences with him. At long last, Dominicus withdrew, reeling in the estacacy of Lucien’s blood. A gentle wrap at the door and the tinkle of feminine laughter pulled Dominicus out of his revere. A whispered greeting to the ladies he had hired and paid a generous sum to be their companions for the night, Dominicus shot Lucien a knowing smile as he wrapped his arm around one of the prostitutes guiding her to the bedroom.

Lucien still weak watched as the prostitute descended upon him, unzipping his wool trousers, massaging him to hardness with her lapping tongue. The prostitute was very skilled with her mouth; waves of desire began to build within him. He ran his fingers through the ringlets of her blonde hair guiding her head, ramming himself deeper into her throat. When he felt as if he were going to explode with need he pulled her head back, her tiny mouth appealed to him, he kissed her deeply, her warmth and the taste of her mouth plunging him into a whirlwind of need. Hungrily, he plunged his fangs into her neck while he plunged his cock into her feminine depths, satisfying both needs at once. He pummeled her ruthlessly, pounding deeply inside of her, she gasped beneath him as he sucked mercilessly on her neck pulling out her blood in great mouthfuls. He had never known such desire or such hunger. He came in great spurts, fulfilling his want. He sipped the few remaining drops of blood from her, fulfilling his need. Dominicus stood in the bedroom doorway watching silently.

Dominicus and Lucien remained companions for many years, hunting together, one knowing the thoughts of the other, appreciating art and music, sharing one another’s secrets. Lucien grew weary, appreciating the company, but knowing that all things are temporary and that he had been in one place way too long, he bid Dominicus goodbye taking his Marguerite with him as he left the lights of the city.

As he traveled from place to place, dropping anchor in a little town in southern Arizona, not for the fine cuisine, but for the solitude. Quietly, he would roam the streets of this little burg, sneaking little drinks from unwitting donors who slept with windows open, it seemed as if someone was always down with the flu or suffering from a strange anemia. He occasionally ran into a brother or sister vampire, but rarely acknowledged them, guarding his thoughts from them, resenting their intrusive nature. He knew such a relative was in the shadows watching him as he hunted, he could feel her eyes on him as she tried to probe his thoughts. He turned to face her, probing her mind, he was much stronger than she, and he crept his way in with ease. He didn’t care who she was, how long she had been like him, who had created her, he wanted to know what she wanted and why she was following him, he probed deeper hoping to extract the information. “Why don’t you just ask her?” a voice asked from behind him. She had been a decoy, distracting him while another vampire read his thoughts, nosy bastards he thought to himself. He would have to relocate sooner than anticipated.

“We’ve come to invite you to dinner,” said the woman as she walked across the pavement to greet him. She was slight of build and small of stature, her long crimson hair swayed about her waist as she walked. Her brown eyes, almost black, shone in the illumination provided by the streetlights. Her pale skin looked all the more white in the lamplight. Her companion, a tall fellow with flowing black hair and beard stood near her, guarding her, he was as large as she was small. “This is Kristoff, “ she said pointing to the hulk which stood at her side, “I am Natallia,” she said pointing to herself with a tiny hand adorned by rings. She wore a loose gauze skirt and blouse set of brilliant emerald green, he was clad in black denim. The two of them made a strange pair, he was intrigued by their proposal and all the more intrigued by his inability to read them. Usually, younger vampires weren’t as strong as their older siblings and read easily. This pair may have been as old as he, maybe older. The night was young, he accepted their invitation, and together they sped down a deserted Arizona highway in a sleek vehicle expertly driven by Kristoff.

They chit chatted making idle conversation as he navigated the car onto a dirt road. As they approached the house, which was as out of place in the middle of this deserted area as the trio was, he heard the whispers of the thoughts of sibling vampires, no one thought was more discernable than another, their thoughts blending into one. As the car pulled to a stop and they exited approaching the house, he sensed curiosity and interest in their dinner guest, no hint of danger or animosity amongst them.

The house was a great two-story dwelling made of brick; there were very few windows and many, many rooms. Fledgling vampires yielded giving them passage as he followed Natallia to the home’s core a great meeting room. A fireplace blazed in the heat of the Arizona night, filling the room with warmth, casting shadows along the dark paneled walls. Comfortable sofas and chairs were scattered about the room; lamps, books, and tiny collected brick-a-brack items added a welcoming touch. Not all of the home’s inhabitants were vampire, a myriad selection of mortals moved about adding interest to the mix.

He sat next to Natallia on a plush, ruby colored, overstuffed sofa. He came to learn that the coven, as groups of vampires cohabitating were called, took in runaways offering them shelter and the comforts of home in exchange for small donations of blood. Taking of mortal life was strictly forbidden on the grounds, leaving the mortals in relative safety. Failure to follow this one simple rule resulted in excommunication from the compound, dangerous for any inexperienced vampire. He felt the hunger begin to well within him, he had not been in such close confines with humanity since he had arrived from Europe, and the smell of them was pushing his control to its limits. “Do you see one you’d like to try?” she asked openly offering him his pick. He was free to choose any of the humans that roamed about that he would like, the mortals were rotated like stock, taken out of circulation and moved to quarters upstairs once fed upon until their blood supply had been replenished. Once revitalized, they were returned to the main floor until they were selected.

He asked her how they held the mortals to their end of the bargain. “It’s simple,” she replied. “They feed us, we feed them. We feed their addictions, sex, drugs, alcohol; we supply a need, as do they. Remember, these are mortals with no ties to the past, this is their present, and they are fed and satisfied. They have only one future, once they become inappropriate for feeding purposes, we dispose of them; we’re in the middle of a great stretch of deserted land, if they tried to escape, they wouldn’t get far before we hunted them down, or they succumb to the harshness of the wilderness.” The living arrangement was practical and logical, humans and vampires together forming a symbiotic life cycle, how perfect he thought to himself.

“Please, feel free,” she said pulling him to his feet. She bowed her head to him and gracefully left the room, her guardian quickly on her heels. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he chose a girl in her early twenties, she was pixie like in appearance, short fluffy blonde hair, big round blue eyes, a pug nose, he found her adorable. He pulled her onto her feet as she exhaled a long drag off an intoxicating substance he could not identify, she handed it to a boy as she took his hand leaving the room. He did not have to spellbind her; the substance had done that for him. Obediently she slid her tee shirt up over her narrow shoulders, revealing tiny, perky breasts with pale peach peaks. Her ribs peeked out as she stretched pulling off her shirt. She guided her jeans down her narrow hips, revealing a nude clean-shaven mound, thin shapely thighs trailing down to well-developed calves.

He didn’t take her physically as he had at first wanted to; he found her drug-induced submission dismaying. He slid his fangs into her, avoiding the bruises left by a prior diner. He sipped on her blood, enjoying its warmth, relishing the calming effect of the drugs as the tainted blood flowed within him. When he had taken the edge off his thirst, he covered her with a warm, fuzzy fleece blanket, leaving her to sleep off her drug-induced state. Although he would have been safe to take a deeper taste of her, he ventured downstairs to join the others.

The vampires, fledgling and elder alike gathered around the body of a youth, his tanned skin dulled by pallor, his breath coming out in short labored gasps. Natalia approached him offering him the youth. “He has overindulged himself, he is dieing, and perhaps you would like to demonstrate to the new generation how to enjoy the fullness of human life and death.” Lucian knelt beside the dieing youth, he had never dined with so many witnesses before, and timidly he dipped his fangs into the youth. With just a few draws, the youth silently slid away into the darkness of death.

The darkness of the night was evolving into the brightness of dawn, Lucian bid his company farewell and retreated to the solitude of his home. He wasn’t sure how he felt about what he had witnessed. Surely, it was an ingenious plan, but he liked to engage in the hunt, he liked to select his victims; he enjoyed studying humans, participating in humanity, from a distance. Something about Natallia and Kristoff deeply disturbed him; there was more going on than what had been revealed that night. Rarely he joined Natallia and Kristoff for a meal, preferring to dine alone.

The Arizona rains fell for what seemed like weeks, when it rains in Arizona, which is rare, it seems to rain a whole years worth at once. Lucian watched the rain run in rivulets down the windowpanes of the coven house. Hunting was difficult in inclimate weather; he had decided to pay the coven a visit. “Ah Lucien, you are always welcome to our little home.” Natallia said as she flung open the door bidding him entry. He heard strains of rock music filtering through out the house, he smelled the pungent smoke of marijuana being enjoyed by the youths, and he heard their laughter and the din of their drug-clouded thoughts. “We’re having a party tonight, it is a very special night,” she said as she took his rain drenched jacket from him flinging it over the back of a chair. “Come join our festivities.” She led him by the hand directing him into the main room.

The room was filled with a mix of vampire and human kind, he had not seen most of these vampires before, and he had not seen most of the humans before either. He felt their vampire minds as they tried to read him, probing his mind. “What’s the occasion?” he asked Natallia, glaring at a particularly intrusive vampire, intent on reading him. “Mind your own mind,” he said in his thoughts without saying a word. The vampire, a tall, thin, raven haired beauty with creamy pale skin and shimmering green eyes; nodded her head in acknowledgement to his thoughts and turned away to join a group of elder vampires in conversation.

“Tonight, we feast. Tonight we build our ranks, sending the young ones out into the world and bring new ones into our fold. Tonight is graduation day.” She danced and turned in circles of excitement, he red hair flowing about her as the human blood would flow later that evening. He tried to understand why Natallia was so intent on filling the world with vampires. Granted he sometimes had problems with humans; telemarketers, door to door salesmen, TV evangelists, pesky shop keeps, but for the most part, his co-existence with humans was satisfactory.

Reading his thoughts and sensing his questions Natallia began to speak. “Since the first vampires reveled at the beauty of the night sky, our kind has been confined to shadow and dark. How many of us have they hunted and burned? Did they not burn your precious love Marguerite?” At the mention of Marguerite’s name, he turned away, looking down at the pattern of the carpet beneath his feet. “ I see after all these centuries, the heartache of her loss still lingers with you,” she went on to say. “What if you could make those who burned her pay? What if you could curse their offspring for all time? What if you could walk about, dining on who you will without fear of being caught, with out erasing any traces?” His mind reeled as she continued on. “I’m not suggesting that we over run the world with vampire kind, just that we reclaim the night, coven houses in every town, keeping the mortal world tightly held in our grasp,” she said clenching her fist, her eyes ablaze with fervor.

He looked up into her eyes, how different from Marguerite and Dominicus she was; they were. “Marguerite died a long time ago. I don’t wish revenge on the mortals; perhaps long ago I did, but not now. I don’t want any part of what you’re suggesting.” Lucien turned away from her leaving the main hall.

“Lucien, we need your help, we need your strength on this night. Please dine with us, please pass your strength on.” She said in a pleading voice. Lucien’s back was turned to her; he did not see that she was motioning to the elders and that they were approaching him. He felt the iron like grip of Kristoff’s arms surrounding his middle, he felt the icy cold vice like hands of the others upon him, fruitlessly, he struggled. Overpowered and weak from lack of feeding, he succumbed to the strength of their black numbers.

They bound his hands tightly with thick ropes; his legs were bound in the same manner. A young man, short and stout with spiked brown hair and tiny round blue eyes clad in jeans and a tee shirt was brought over to him by Kristoff. The man, pulled his shirt off revealing his chest which was covered in a layer of coarse dark hair, standing close, tilting his head over to the side to grant Lucian access to the great vessels of his neck, he waited offering himself to him. Lucian, hungrily smelled his flesh, heard the rushing of blood in those great vessels, baring his fangs in want, he stopped mere millimeters from the man’s neck. “I won’t do this,” he said struggling in the ropes. The elders and infant vampires encircled him; Natallia broke the circle approaching him she stated, a quite simple phrase. “Yes you will,” with one quick deft movement, she slid her razorblade fingernail across the man’s throat opening it.

The salty smell of the man’s blood was too much to resist, Lucian lowered his head taking the heat of the red flow in with great, greedy, gulps. The vampires who enclosed him with their dark bodies began to chant; “Lucian, you are one of us. Lucian, Lucian, Lucian.” He reeled in the rich, iron flavor of the man’s blood as it ran down his throat, finding his own vessels, filling them. The man, Lucian now knew as Justin was in the beginning throws of death, sliding darkly into it. Natallia pulled Lucian away from him, breaking his suction; the remaining blood contained in Justin’s body trickled from the great gash she had created. “Let’s bring the poor boy back to life,” she said as she opened Lucian’s shirt. He struggled against the ropes with renewed vigor, she meant for the boy to drink from him, stealing his vampire life force. She withdrew a tiny dagger from the sheath she wore about her waist, deftly, slowly, she drug the dagger across his wrist causing his black blood to trickle forth. She lowered Justin’s head to the wound and bid him to drink. Justin did so obediently, lapping up Lucien’s blood in mouthfuls. Lucien could feel his strength leaving him and entering Justin, he knew of Justin’s secrets, Justin knew of his, together they merged in a vampire bonding; Lucian the elder, Justin the newborn, lapping his blood as a babe would nuzzle its mother’s breast.

She pushed Justin away, taking his place sipping gently on Lucian’s blood. He felt his strength leaving him, too weak to stand, he fell to the floor; he felt his flesh rip as the other vampires tore holes in it, tasting of his blood. All his secrets, the secrets of his lifetime were revealed to this unholy coven. His birth, his life, Marguerite, his centuries of wandering and solitude; all was known. Lucien slid into the refuge of unconsciousness unable to bear anymore.

He dreamed of Marguerite, he heard her whisper to him, he felt his body as it was lifted up, and he felt himself drift for what seemed an eternity. He mussed that he must be dead and that this was the afterlife. He had sent so many souls there and now he was here, he waited from the Devil to ascend from the pits of Hell to claim him. He felt his movement stop, he felt his body fall and land with a thud, he felt the fall of great clumps of earth up on him as he was buried. In silence he lay, between life and surrender, knowing he could be stuck here for all time waiting to be discovered.

Dominicus moved great piles of earth, digging furiously in the cool sand. The moonlight aided his vision, after digging for what seemed like miles, he felt the smooth cloth of Lucian’s jeans. With a great huff of effort, he pulled Lucian from his earthy confines. Hefting him over his shoulder, he carried him to the black sports car, which sat by the roadside, its engine purring quietly. Dropping his dirt-covered companion into the passenger seat, he slid into the driver’s side spinning the tires in the loose gravel as they sped into the night.

When they were what Dominicus considered to be a safe distance away from the coven house, he pulled into a truck stop, turning off the engine; he slapped Lucian in the face repeatedly, waking him. “Dominicus,” moaned Lucian, “Where are we, am I dead?” Dominicus laughed aloud at Lucian’s question. Brushing the dirt from Lucian’s clothes and straightening his hair, Dominicus began to speak.

“It takes more than that to finish off my bloodline.” He shook his head at Lucian and continued to speak. “It looks like you got yourself in with a bad crowd. A very bad crowd.” He walked to the passenger side door, opening it; he helped Lucian out of the car. “You’ll feel better once you have a hot meal.” Dominicus said as he helped Lucian walk towards the men’s room. Dominicus rested Lucian against a bathroom stall door and proceeded back to the parking lot to scrounge up some dinner for his companion.

He returned with a middle-aged prostitute, in trucker terms, a lot lizard, named Dottie. Her leopard print top and black satin skirt hugged her bony, sagging, wrinkled frame. Her frizzy hair bleached a white platinum blonde was piled a top her tiny head. “Dottie is looking for a little fun, I thought you might be able to help her out, Lucien.” Dominicus winked at him as he stepped back away from the pair. Dominicus never joined Lucien while he was dining, but he liked to watch. Dottie’s breath was tinted with the smell of cheap wine and bubble gum, her cheap dime store perfume nauseated Lucien, but he was too weak to be choosey. Barely possessing the strength to spellbind her, he plunged his fangs deeply into her, taking her quickly. Dominicus was right; he did feel better after a hot meal.