Welcome to the first of the new Story of the Month posts! This story is a racy, scandalous take on the vampire lore, a mixture of many, but an original story that really is a tiger of different stripes. This story is graphic in nature, and if you're offended by violence, sex, or any other indiscretion that comes from vampiric stories, I'd recommend you turn away now.
As I've stated in previous posts, I'm doing these post monthly now so it eases up the need to come up with stories on a weekly basis. It'll allow me the ability to work more away from the blog, and maybe I'll make some money! I know! How dare I want to write AND make money?! Still, let's ring in the new year with some blood and guts, with a bit of sexuality, shall we? Scratch that, a shit-ton of sexuality. READER DISCRETION ADVISE
Accursed A Rising Sun
By: Malacast Agent
The child locked the basement door, clods of dust coming up with the presumptive shifting and locking of the iron-clad rickety fastenings. He wiped his brow, drained, the IV in his arm having been ripped out and bandaged! he fell asleep almost immediately as his angelic hair, as light as smelted spaghetti hit the comfy pillow. His sleep was that of the kings, of the dead themselves, barely a wisp of a snore passed his pharynx. The land grew bright with the upcoming sun, it chased the shadows into the ground, and across the curvature of the Earth; vanquishing it to the other hemisphere.
The hours passed, and he slept with the security of a private firm surrounding him, not a care, a thought of panic in his little mind. It was nearing dusk when he awoke, and he fed himself with protein and iron, awaking in front of the stove, cooking up a ham steak. He chewed down on the whole steak, and a bagel with cream cheese to boot. He swallowed fast, drank his orange juice, and sat in front of the couch, digesting over some cartoons on the television. The sun was setting, and it would be down but shortly. The Lady of the home would be awake soon, and he prepared his own IV, which he had seen down countless times, he'd been doing it now for well-over a year now. The blood filled the saline bag, as one pint filled the marker. He watched until that black marker line was filled, and he tapped himself off, bandaging up the arm, and wrapping it with gauze until the blood stopped seeping through.
He tossed the bag gently into the tiny fridge that was next to the couch, and took another big gulp of his orange juice. Minutes later, the wooziness was past, and he was feeling like himself again, laughing as the cartoon mouse hit the crazy cat over the head with an oversized mallet.
Less-than-an-hour had passed, as the end credits rolled for the cartoon, and he felt that eerie dark presence of the Lady behind him. That chilling touch that had never grown comfortable, never became normal, even after all these years.
"My child, these simple drawings will rot your mind, why not pick out a good read from the library? There are countless books for you to spend your days pining through....the summer is fleeting, and soon, my little urchin; you shall be back to your lessons."
"Oh, um....I read a book last week, it was very good....Pollyanna, about a young girl on a farm." The little boy I insisted, sweat poured down his brow.
"Yes, yes, I know the read. Good, good young one, we would not want that lovely little brain of yours to turn to mush now,would we? I'll be out late tonight. Did you leave me a snack? I'm quite ravenous this morning, that drifter really didn't quench my dusty palette."
"Yes, my Lady, there is a pint in the fridge, less than an hour old! Should still be quite warm." The young boy gingerly grabbed at his blood, and before he could even hand it over, the Lady snatched it with the quickness of a banshee kiss, and guzzled it down, her fangs generously lapping up the sweetness of the young, unbridled plasma, too young to be tainted by man's own ravenous desires.
"Ah! My dear child, my little spitting image of humanity....such a generous little bank of nutrition! I'd not survive without you by my side! I will promise to quench myself in-full tonight, your tapping of another pint won't be necessary this dawn. I shall need you, however, to clean up around here once your strength returns. Keep the back unlocked; I may decide to come in from there this morning. Don't be up too late! And don't sit in front of that evil contraption all day long!" The Lady motioned towards the television in disgust and an ire that the boy was thankful was never aimed at him.
"Yes, my Lady! I'll get everything done, I promise!"
"I love you, my little urchin, know that I only desire to make your dreams come true."
The boy noticed that the creature was acting differently towards him, her eyes, usually blank,soulless, have been fascinatingly rolling about his form. He didn't know why. Since he was five years old, he had been in the custody of this spirit of treachery, loved, milked with nourishment that his pauper parents could barely afford, now he was spoiled like the last prince of England, the heir to a throne that required his absolute protection....held to near-divinity status. He wasn't foolish though, being ten now, he knew he was kept only for his ability to be a light snack. He hadn't minded this at first, thought it was more like a game. The Lady was ancient, but she had not a hint of age to her. In many ways-she herself was still a child. Several hundred years old, and barely looking to be out of her teens, she was grew evil, a profile of any man's desire, a figure of great envy. She had assets, and used them to transform men of steel, to men of putty, and inevitably, leave them scoured, and drained of their life.
Still too young to be intrigued by these growing prepubescent emotions, he had recently been caught staring at her breasts, and her pursing lips made humorous giggles at him, as he turned in full embarrassment. Like the days when he was but a little boy, and bathed with her in a pool-sized tub of warm water, she chilled it with just her slender form. Now, she covers up and let's out faux gasps of surprise whenever he happened to walk in on her undressing for her morning cleansing ritual prior to resting inside her silk-layered box of pine.
The childish curiosity of the opposing anatomy was harmless, but the Lady, completely understanding her frail, perfect complexity knew that his budding desires would turn to teenage frustration. For the last few months, she had been contemplating turning him, or just snapping his slender little neck when he slept. Yet, she stood over him as silent as the dead wind trapped in a gravitational pull, and stroked his blonde hair. She may have been dead, but the carnal desires of the living are both a blessing, and a curse for a creature evolved of the placating of such habits. To her, time was not a chronological measure of life and death, but just a slow, twisting branch eventually it'll crack, break, and float haplessly to the ground, decaying, melding back into the universe from whence it came.
For the Lady, she would kill the boy eventually, but he was her little slave, a plaything to discard of when his fulfillment was met, and she desired not his plasma, nor his frame anymore. Tossed aside for next year's model, something older, stronger, something with more testosterone and adrenaline pumping through gorgeous biceps, and riddling the neck with pockmarks to get at that juicy center that sent fluids rushing towards her ancient womb.
Still, a soft spot was instilled in her, like a twisted matronly protection for the sweet little urchin. He would grow up to be a strong man, she could see the chiseling of his muscular outline forming already. For now, she would keep him alive, and for years on she had. Now he was encroaching on teenage-hood, and his growing fascination with the world would make it hard to keep him at roost.
The boy fell asleep, weakened from the chores, and the lack of blood. He made a second pint of blood for the creature that was the Lady, and passed out in-front of the morning news. The Lady smiled at him from her return of a fine feast. The city was a provisional farming community of homeless, tourists, and spices of li from countries she traveled in her youth. The blood trickled from her lovely skin. She still held some of her brownish complexion, but was more white with frail decay than anything. She had originated in Barbados, but the city of New Orleans was her home for years. She only had recently moved North to throw off any hints that she was a creature of the night.
The boy was a mistake...a splendid, beautiful mistake that occurred when he was hidden away in a closet in his parent's master bedroom. They were poor, not of any real means, but she was rich from years of draining the aristocratic providence of the Gulf. He was but a tiny little nothing then, and she had already filled herself on the parents. She'd not the heart to kill him, the way one finds a puppy in the alleyway, and kicks in a maternal instinct. Now, he was growing into a pleasing young man, he would be pined after by the young girls, she knew the type...little hussies that would dare try to steal his purity. Still, she couldn't help but laugh at how often he would peek a glance at her, like a child viewing the world's glory for the first time...the first taste of nectar, but before the tongue is introduced, it is snapped away.
She knew it wouldn't last, humanity is a breeding sort, and he would likely take his place in that breeding pool, that Petrie dish of self-satisfaction, and moral decay. Still, she needed his nectar, his sweet little boyhood innocence, the succulent plasma of which kept her hinged at nights, and early mornings. Still, she knew there was a change coming. Should could easily prevent it, by turning him, but she felt it wasn't her place to do-so, not yet anyhow. Deep-down, she had done so much to him, and she owed him the ability to grow up, to mature physically into man.
Like seconds, the years flew by, and the changes came almost immediately: she taught him how to shave, caressing his cheek with that same coldness. Despite his estranged change in appearance, and now looking at her with less of a child's wonder, and more a man's determination; the boy was indeed still a child, but was intellectually superior than she ever expected. He excelled at scrolling, his blood grew hotter with every tapping, she felt those secretions of endorphins flow through the blood. He grew more erratic at times, coming to terms with the new emotions, the deadly chemicals that were filling his brain with nonsense.
The young man played sports at school, stayed la, studied hard, anything to avoid having to deal with the Lady. He knew he wasn't going to be able to speak about her to others, they'd think he was crazy, lock him up, and she would find him easily, and snuff him like a mouse. No, he played basketball, baseball, even doubled up with soccer during the year, just to avoid going home earlier. Ironically, the alady didn't mind the boy's attempts to stay away, it made it easier to fulfill her own desires by brining her victims home, laying in the makeshift bed,mused as a decoy to lay these men and women down in a false sense of security, and dine on them like fine wines and tasty morsels.
Occasionally she would snap their necks and drain them quickly while they entered her, before they could turn into a monster as she. Disposing of these nameless men, it was simple work of down a shaft to the large furnace that warmed the gigantic home. They moaned with pleasure from a sickly trance she put them under, releasing their lives along with secretions that were immeasurable. She felt a grand passion from their pheromone liquor so freely flowing from veins and capillaries.
The boy was unaware of these killings, especially since he was grateful to only on occasion giving up blood, but he was growing aware of the chains in his adopted mother-figure.
On his seventeenth birthday, the very last year of his high school career, she had approached him in a rather unfashionable matter of a mother, as she sat her body across his legs, wrapping her arms about his neck, which bustled with a girth of an elephant's leg.
"My dear urchin, you've grown so quickly, like a boy into a man overnight. Do you feel you've grown enough, my child? Do you feel you're...mature enough to stay still? I can offer you this eternal youth. Trust me, it only goes downhill from here-on-out, age is a wretched little thing that so many suffer. Will you like to join the select few that no longer fear death?" She held him tighter, his adrenaline pumped. She stared at the pulsing being, and licked her chapped lips. He cringed, expecting the bite, but instead felt a soft kiss on his lips, wet, but with a ghastly smell.
"Touch my breast, boy. Feel them, for nearly a millennia, they stay as firm as the day I've been turned. I was not given a choice, I was raped of my option at a tender age of twenty, but I give you the option! Stay with me, I know you lol at me, I know you desire me, I will give myself to you, boy. We can stay entwined for eternity, and feast on the lesser species of humanity together."
The boy felt the naked breast, his first ever, and he could not prevent the reaction of an erection that was beating against his jeans. The lady smiled, the fangs were impossible to hide, and her yellowing eyes, burning like Hell hid behind them in shame, caught his, and he had to close his eyes to think, but he felt his other hand come up to the other breast, and the cupping of them forced his eyes open. Without hesitance, she shoved his face deep into her bosom, not like a mother to a babe, but with a fury of a fiend who desired to control this boy, barely out of his adolescence, and twist his thoughts to her favor. He was not to give in so easily, but his excitement did grow.
"I can feel your enthusiasm, but it is only natural, this being the year of your maturity, just at the ripening of your youth. Yes, you are younger than I'd hope for, but mental maturity will continue. You will become the smartest men to ever exist after a thousand years, you will grow to desire me in every way, and it will never grow stale, for there is no lover you could not take. Our race does not hold such frivolous emotions such as jealousy, just promise to share what you find with me."
"I....I can't, my Lady! I simply cannot become what you are!" The boy murmured from out of her chilly breasts, stabbing him with adolescent reluctance.
"Oh! Surely the prick I feel poking my seat is not my own! Foolish child, still a big baby, even today! I offer to take you in the greatest way possible! Men would kill to be in the position you are now! It won't hurt, you will become a superior creature like I, and it will not come from the opening of a vein, but the releasing of seed!"
"Don't you get it? I've replenished your need for blood since I was a child! Don't I deserve to have a life as well? To explore what this world offers,to grow of it?! You can drain me right now, and if you do, make sure to kill me, for a life under your thumb, it's no life at all! I have a few months left of schooling, then the future is whatever I make of it!"
"You little ingrate! There's nothing for you out there! What? An education? You can learn, nobody will impede your education! Work? To slave away for a master?!" She shoved him back, his face was red from being pressed into her, nearly suffocating him. The blood moved away from his decay erection, and rushed to his face. She glared at him with a hatred of a spider to a fly.
"How is that any different than now?!" He squeaked back with little bravery, and less confidence.
"Do not even begin to accuse me of enslaving you! How dare you, little fly! I rescued you where murder would've been most sufficient! I raised you, and never once even attempted to turn you, oh, but how often I've thought of snapping that little neck, and drinking you like a twist-top! You little fool! I offer you eternity! I offer you a chance to live beyond these mere mortals, of rule over them like a God!"
"Gods and Kings usually wind up with their heads missing; a mutually assured destruction carried out in their name....I rather my bones evaporate to dust "
"Fine! Be gone from my sanctuary, disperse from the cold comfort of my bosom! Vanish from my halls, let us see what mortality rewards you out there in the world! You'll not survive a you'll starve! You come crawling back, begging for me to turn you before you pass away into deep, somber, death. And I will smile, smile the implements of your salvation....and I will say 'No', as you are turned back out into the coldness of the vibrant world!"
The boy nodded, calmed himself down, and gently slid the Lady off his lap. He gathered his things, and went off. He didn't have any friends, barely an overseer stun beyond his nose in the books of his studies. So he snuck over to the school, his only other tether to the world, and snuck inside. He slept well, and slept a peaceful rest for the first time in a long while. The Lady wasn't even s thought as he heard the first bell ring, awaking him in a jolt. He changed his shirt from the small duffle bag that he somehow overstuffed with most of his belongings, some he half heartedly had to leave behind, and headed down to his first class. He made it just on time, not before tucking away his belongings in the upper attic of the high school.
The day went rather quickly, and now he had to leave the school for the day, and look around for something to do. He decided to shower first in the school locker room, and changed into his most presentable clothing, and went off to look for work. The boy was of working age, and it wasn't as though he hadn't realized that he could not live in the school forever. Regardless, there wasn't much a young man could do for work, but he had to eat up several hours after school before he could sneak back on to the school grounds. He could avoid the cameras fairly easily, and so-long as he didn't steal, or he didn't break anything, his presence would be like a ghost, or a whisper: just a stream of evaporating energy and s clicking image out of the corner of the night janitor's eye.
The boy went to the local ice cream parlor, a local hangout for the kids, which stayed open until ten thirty. He managed to fill out an application, and lucky enough to get the interview immediately. Legally he could not work over twenty hours in a week, but to would be enough to save up some moe y, and provide himself a meal, as the parlor served grilled items as well. The school provided liquid soap, so that was one less expense, and just for his other basic utilities, it was beginning to seem like this would work out. The manager was very taken with his forward answers, and rabid undulation of hand flurries and appetite for work, he would start him the following day, and slightly above the minimum wage. This was already a solid victory for the boy. Things were going to be okay.
Having to sneak back in after the nightshift was finished, the boy settled down into s somber sleep that had not been possible in the past decade. He had been afraid of the Lady, her fangs just trickling dead spit upon his savory neck, and he'd awake to cold sweats, and damp underpants. He dreamt of her, but this time, it was was more sensual, as though she had been calling to him, mocking with her sexual prominence.
He woke up in sweats, his alarm blaring off, as he dressed himself, and shut the alarm quickly, as he went of to his home room class. The room was surprisingly chilly, and the boy was sticky with cold sweat. Now that his bed was mere feet away from the main classroom. It was here that he met the girl in the back corner of the room. She was to become a vestigial part of the times to come, but the boy paid her little. Ind, even if his subconscious had seen fit to carry her images into his sleeping mind, and dazing on the job.
The girl noticed him more often than he raised his head up from his studies, so determined to prove The Lady wrong, and that he would not succumb to the world. When you lived in fear of a bloodsucker sinking her sharpened teeth deep into your neck, or plunge those ice cold fingers down deep within his dungarees, nothing short of a massive heart attack could bring forth intense sweats. School was a breeze, as an average student he excelled as no other bore him. At work, he kept at it, making up for people who wouldn't put in the effort, and the parlor's owner had given him s raise within three months.
He took on extra shifts, so he fulfilled his part-time obligations ahead of the week, catching up on classroom on his weekends, and this charade kept up for nearly the entire semester. The boy was indeed growing into a man quickly by circumstance, and his ability to stay attuned to the options ahead of him: succeed and live s productive life, or risk the threat of having his neck mangled by a creature seething with sulfuric evil. The Lady had poisoned his dreams for the first few weeks, but the girl in the corner of his homeroom had begun to slowly push the ancient blood queen out of his memory.
He had raised enough money saved up to make his space comfortable. He knew he couldn't move out on his own just yet, it would be suspicious for a boy his age to gain clemency from minor status, so he had but three years to go. The boy was fearing summer, because it wouldn't be as easy to sleep in the school, he would have to struggle to find s place to stay during the summered break. If The Lady had taught him anything however, it was resourcefulness.
He decided to take up a second part-time job after successfully completing the school year. He needed the extra money, and even with doing a summer course to keep him fresh, the boy took up residences inside a church at night, for he knew if The Lady were to ever try and attack him, he at least was inside the shell of the Holy. The priest ask d few questions of the boy, who had snuck back in once the priest had retired to his own quarters just a few houses down from the church itself. The boy would only stay there until the school year began of course, then he would tempt fate for a second time in sneaking back down to the old boiler room.
The ice cream parlor and restaurant combo was his primary work, he also got a job landscaping, and this afforded him a great deal of income. He was always drained by the time he snuck back into the church, but it was all well that he would have enough money to escape to a college of his own choosing, he just had to keep working hard, and it would pay off.
It was during the August heat that he had been working one of his shifts at the parlor that the boy was formally introduced to the very girl who sat so far back in the shadows of his former homeroom. She had been an illustrious mystery, dancing about his head, that his mind almost tricked him into believing he had invented her...oh what trickery the mind plays on the chemical imbalances of youth!
She had encapsulated the entire room with her jaw-dropping presence. At this point, the nearly-sixteen year old boy had been gone from The Lady for nearly w year, and she had been nothing but a wretched nightmare form which he had grown over, she had only the mark left stain on his soul from the murder of his innocent parents. The boy was certain they we're proud of him from wherever they wer now, but at this point, this moment of misplaced parenting,maid he wish his father was there to consul him. She walked directly to him, and was more surprised to see him than he was by her evanescent beauty, fading into the background like Monet's Lily Pads fade into the background of rippling blue water.
But like any young couple, they talked and saw the beauty and complexity of all the allegories they've been fed for the years' past. Filled with high-school romances of Romeo and Juliet; wavering a consensus that love at first sight wasn't anything but a preconceived notion of dullard hearts set off on a journey of somewhere between fantasy and reality....childhood and maturity. Introductions were made, and for the first time in years, the awakening of the soul was made inside the boy, who was growing up faster than his peers, even his shaving had become periodical. It was nearly w daily a basis he was mistaken for five, six years even his senior, and his voice was deepening into a soft baritone.
The Lady had been growing as well in this time apart, but her growth was internal, and it was w seething growth in hunger. She had not another ward to care for her. Frivolous attempts to gain a young ward have gone awry with the slaughtering their parents. She was left still starving from going days at a time without feasting, and so, she had no choice but glutton herself on the child as well, her pangs of hunger growing into deep frustration over the boy that told her no. She wanted revenge, but still, in her demonic, cold heart, there was a piece of her that still wanted a coo editor with the boy, and somehow she knew that there would be a time for her to strike. He was predictable, he needed time to be on her side, and when it came to the ways of the undead, time was always their champion, for the living are simply borrowing what she had conquered long ago.
The boy however didn't hold such avarice towards revenge, he had come to grips with the loss of his parents, and saw it as though they were mailed by a bear, or eaten by a shark. You do not blame a creature of its nature, for it knows no other way. He resented The Lady, but that girl who sat so far in the shadows, with hair of ashened fire, lips of red so pulsating with rich vibrancy and life, they were shaded in purple. The girl smiled a pristine smile, a couple of crooked teeth, but the boy admit them as nothing more than flawless gems shifting in the sediment. She admired his strong composure, she was almost reminded of her father in his youth: staunch and strong, arms as big as boulders, and the boy was nothing more than chiseled from Adonis' bones. She felt heat all over when he grinned at her, as he took a bite from off his cone, the ravenous manner he ate,mint made her feel a woman's flushed composure. She was lightheaded by this strong man, it was misplaced youth that demanded he have her, for in that moment, her lust of a woman, but a childish giddiness over the act she was so confused, yet so committed to upon.
He kept his composure, only once sneaking a peak down her shirt, but he quickly looked away, reminded of the vision of The Lady's bare breasts, that nursed not life, but death deep within their rotted core, her soothed heart beating not of life, but of disease. It sickened him, but he was joyous to catch but s glimpse of the girl's partially exposed cleavage. He felt normal, like a boy staring at forbidden fruit, happily jovial in the notion that he had escaped and was living the life that was stolen so young! He had escaped the clutches of a harpy, and was now in the presence of an angel. He was thankful for his growing luck, and took it with the caution of one that knows a monster could be breathing chills down his spinal column posthaste.
The school year began, and the boy and the girl, such an innocent, stupid youthful couple were happy in their ignorant bliss. They were both entering their second year of high school,Mitch only two to go. The boy knew it was to be best to start scanning for colleges, as far away from The Lady as he could get. He looked along the West Coast, escaping his New England paltry lifestyle for the laid-back, sunshine of the Pacific Coast. The girl wasn't too fond of his venture across the country.
"Baby, I want to stay close to home! How could we have an honest, fair relationship with temptations about everywhere?! Shouldn't we stay closer? My grades aren't as great as yours either, I may have to settle for something less extravagant." She opined about her situation. She was a good student,mbut nowhere near the scholarly obedience of her lover.
The boy didn't think it was necessarily w bad thing to be apart, he wanted to focus greatly on his studies, and he had found a great deal of love and faction for his high school sweetheart. However, he had not burdened her with the knowledge of his former life, nor of his former caretaker in that of The Lady. He had kept his bargain to never reveal the secret of the succubus that drained men of their virility in blood and bone, for it would make him seem mad. He was now pushing to graduate earlier, so his last year would be in his eleventh grade. She had taken this almost as a means to escape her, but he never let her feel unloved. During the previous summer, he consummated his feelings And made love to her like a God, giving her his virginal rites, and she to him. They copulated in a frenzy when her parents where out of town, and he had been loving to her ever since that wondrous weekend in late August. They were happy together, and the boy wanted it no her way. The girl, who now sits across from him at their current homeschool room, wanted something greater, she had fallen for him for his dashing good looks, but it was the consistency of his character to be ever the charmer, ever the chivalrous msn to her, and his taking her out on the weekends that made her feel regal, and elegant. She felt she didn't deserved this good fortune, this boy becoming the perfect man. Things were too good it seemed, but she felt that she greedily wanted more.
Another year had gone by, and the boy was made an assistant manager, he was on the brink of his either th birthday, and he had successfully piled on enough classes that this would indeed be his final year. The girl, who he had been dating consistently for more than a year had been pressured into doing the same, and focuses da great deal on her studies to catch up to require only a single summer course by the end of the semester. She had fallen hard for the boy, now on the verge of manhood. They had loved each other many times over since their first excursion, and she had deepened her understanding of his fortuitous nature to escape the shanty, foggy New England atmosphere. Yet something had been behind that charming demeanor lately, there was something that the boy was refusing to confide in her, but the escape was in his retreating eyes.
Still, it was The Lady that began to haunt his dreams more often, it was her fragrant stench of rotted lily covered by the richest Parisian perfumes that haunted his shivering demeanor. There is nothing more heart-wrenching than the tale of young love, and the boy knew his escape of The Lady was a desire that trumped even the most angelic of faces, the most sturdy of youthful, untamed frames in the making of the girl. He knew tragedy followed those touched by The Lady, and he was ready to break such a treacherous cycle.
As his final year drew nearer, as the Spring blossomed into an early summer, he had crunched and crunched, and graduated a year early with a forged signature, and a whole lot of elbow grease. He done his duty, and pride excelled from his pores. The girl showed pride as well, but sour grapes came in the form that her love would be leaving, off to some college in the Northwest, hanging about with older, more sophisticated girls, ones that she felt she could not compete with to win over his heart, his mind, or his affection.
She feared it was coming to a close. Even though she had fought hard, and toughened up to complete her studies in ample time, she would. It be able to graduate without at least two courses over the summer, and with s job at the ice cream parlor she had recently received thanks to her loving boyfriend....it was going to be after the Fall semester had concluded that she could then rush out to join him. She feared she was tampering with unforeseen forces, and that the world itself wanted this boy, now a man, officially and in every other definition, does she then realize that perhaps it was best to break it off, it would be the smart thing to do.
That evening, after one last celebratory swaddling of physical joy, after both have been spent in a contest of extraordinary lovemaking skill, she know in his zest, it would be best to break the news. Oh, it hurt her more than it ever hurt him, even though he was heartbroken, as though he had championed the storm, only to crash upon the rocks. She knew it was over, his mind was already on the West Coast, escaping the invisible monster that lied be at the still...the one that was never discussed in their mixed company.
The boy decided to take the train across the country, it was a one-way ticket, westbound, and the rhyme and reason was no longer a factor....he just wanted to be gone from the hell that he was in. He transferred his accounts, made sure to get his paperwork in order, and he left behind the madness that was his childhood. He was off to make something of his mortal life, rather than sit in obscurity for an eternity with the woman that killed his parents. Yes, he still viewed her as a creature of habit, but one does not shack up in the den of the lion that murders their kin, one avoids, and if need-be kills to sustain their life. Immortal death was a pipe dream of the delusion and the few that have given up, but wee too egotistical to die.
The months following that four-day trainride were filled with typical college joy: gaining independence, finding unity with like-minded individuals, and a secrete obsession over the absurd library with more books than the sky has clouds. He was indelibly blissful in his surroundings, and not even the whisper of the past with The Lady could ever belittle his jovially lifted spirit. His classes were at the forefront. If he wasn't studying, if he wasn't working, or in class, he was found in the cafeteria, or up in his room listening to talk radio. Mostly he studi d his courses: business courses, several electives that dealt with art and prose, and some light physical activities such as baseball in the spring, and volleyball in the winter. He worked out in the gym, not because he wanted to be healthy, which he clearly was, but in-case a test of strength came from fighting off The Lady, such was his obsession with physical prowess and a desire to be a survivalist. Life was precious to him, he intended to keep it as long as he could.
Yes indeed the women on campus took note of this, and many tried to wrangle him in, but his heart was still hurting from the loss of his high school lover. He appreciated her, and she admired him, but his mind was focused on advancing his career, and he dared not let his heart go astray from his true purpose. For months he kept busy, punishing work like a taskmaster, he beat his studies to death. His professors admired him, practically cheering up whenever his presence graced their classrooms.
For months his put up this charade, making it well past the Fall semester, and taking on some winter electives so he could stay in his dormitory. Those four weeks were heavenly, as most other students went back to loving families, but his was nothing but dirt, a bit of dust on the memory shelf of his mind, barely were their faces imposed on his mind's eye. He was cursed to not even have a loving family portrait with the two of them, for he was too young at the time, barely a child, just out of toddling, and looking at the world through the bright ambition that comes with ignorance.
Now he sees it for the horror, and in a sick way, he's been prepared better for the daily races because of The Lady, because he was a cool exterior, and a boilerplate of hot, hot rage bellowing inside his volcanic belly. He commanded a room, and perhaps the powers of persuasion from The Lady had worn off on him. In many ways, he laughed at how similar he was to her, even without trying...nature and nurture, or so his elective in psychology argued. He knew the truth...when evil amassed itself around you, like a oil slick, it's bound to stain just a little if it touches your essence.
Spring came, and the boy received a letter, which was queer, seeing that no one he knew personally had any idea he was alive, let-alone in college. He purposely registered under a pseudonym, getting a friend who didn't ask any questions to draw up the fake papers. He hated being so deceptive, but his records were made clearly identical, he was too proud to let his successes be anything but truth...perhaps a mistake, but the soul cares about truth, it cares about the good that man does, even if it be tainted by misanthropic stupidity to the very vessels in which its carried.
The letter was an elegant treatise from none-other than The Lady. It was a blatant slap in the face of his freedom, for bargaining with the snake does not keep it from clenching it's fangs down deep into one's arm. Even if The Lady had heard his pleads, even if she had respected his decision, she was still a monster, and as beautiful and deadly a monster she was, there was no stopping her nature. The letter enclosed read:
Dearest boy,
For your years of service as my gallant ward, I thank you, but as the dicoutretous man you've become, not promising anything but that you would feel pain as blatant as any mortal can, I'll assure you that pain isn't just in death. I want you to return to me, you're a man now, and I no longer feel some empathetic parental tie to you, rather I yearn to make you my apprentice. If you do not rep,y, or ignore this letter completely, know that the one you've grown to love will be as I am. I will turn your love into the thing you hate, and I will make sure she suffers and starves only a drizzle of old blood to satisfy her from the turning not dust.
Know that I spare your precious twat from this suffering if you return. Enclosed is a picture to show you that your choice carries a great weight. If you truly displease me, I may just turn her, and set her aflame in the Old God's Eye, accursed the sun rays, she will burn up like bark in a boiler! So come home child, come home to me. I assure you...this is all the empathy I can bare, and her blood, it smells so sweet, I'm. It sure I will contain myself for long!
The boy read this, and saw the picture of his beloved tied up in the very killing room of his former residence. The Lady was certainly not kidding him, he knew she was incapable of idle threats, there is no need for such behavior of a monster that feeds on man like he feeds in cattle. The boy summed correctly when he thought the girl had looked up his former residence, and assumed he'd be back for the holiday season, perhaps she wanted to surprise him, but instead she met the mother Kodiak, and was clearly on borrowed time. He packed up everything, and not even thinking of anything but his love, he took a plane back to that foggy New England hellhole.
He ran through the door, as the morning sun was settling in. The Lady greeted him with the chagrin fangs that have punctured the necks and groins of so many men. He looked at the strength and veracity of a behomoth like a seal sees the last-glance image of an orca. He then looked away from the creature to a shivering, crying girl who was countdown and gagged. The look of hope she gave him when he burst on through the door sank his heart more than the ferocious undead succubus that held her in tundra grips.
"Leave her be...I've returned, you don't need to harm her." The boy stated without a hint of fear. He could not fear the beast he laid down with and was coddled by for his life. One cannot fear the very wolf that raised him like her own pup. Yet, he knew that he himself was not a wolf, even if nature instilled upon him that he was the animalistic killer, humanity declined to oblige.
"Ah, my darling, darling boy! My how you have grown! No longer an impish child, you truly have become like I am! You may still be stinking of decay, but your form is brutish, you'll make a fine lover, and together we will cleanse this town of the vermin, and suckle the nectar of life!"
She moved with unhinged quickness to him, throwing his love to the side, unintentionally loosening her bindings as she scraped against the hardwood floor. Her afterimage tapered off like flashes in her wooed she was atop him caressing his fine hair, licking her ravenous lips.
"My little tot, how the sun has bronzed your skin, giving you life beyond! How sickening! I'll render this matter I rent, as I suckle from your neck. Oh! The taste! It'll be scrumptious!"
Before the boy could resist, she plunged her fangs deep into the neck. At first he felt the icy shock of her dead lips, but it was somehow more tantalizing than painful. She removed her top, and her pristine great that have not escaped his thoughts in the years have been pushed up against his chest.
"No!" The girl screamed, but he was already taken by The Lady.
"Run...run my sweet." He barely spoke it out, but her trance broke, and she moved, running past the visceral display. The Lady grabbed at her leg, and flung her down, but the boy took her hand, and shoved it down deep into his pants, his gonads hardening and tightening not so much from the cold grasp, but the liking of trying mot sieze up the blood from exiting the body.
"Run!" He screamed yet again,mad this time she avoided the other hand, and she was out the door into the crips morning air.
"No matter, I was going to make your first hunt easy, but do. It fret, my love, we shall hunt her down together."
"I'll never harm a hair in her head, you bitch!" He was too weak, and he felt his life fading, as she licked the bit of blood off her face, as it drizzled down her bare chest. She took her fingernail, which was as sharp as a cat's claw, and cut right under her left breast. She smiled and pressed his face up to the blood, and like a baby suckling for life, he suckled to prevent death. He sucked harder and harder, as she placed herself over his throbbing member, and rode him, as he began to turn. He smiled as they finished together, and collapsed within each other's freezing arms.
"My little boy, such a man! You've learned to please your queen well. Forever we will make love, and feast upon our prey. Your foolish thoughts of success, dying of old age! Fie! This is greater, this is the way our kind deserve to live! We belong above these sheep! We are smarter! Stronger! We will reign over them all, and feed our hunger until we are drunk off their blood!"
"Ah, yes..we are smarter, far too smart to be fooled, to be tricked. I cannot wait to hunt. I must however, give you one last caution, as you have done for me." The boy smiled, his fangs as pristine as her were, as clean as the first day of birth.
"And what pretzel is that my love?" She kissed gently across his neck as he gently buttoned up his pants.
"Always make sure to shut the door." He smiled and gently caressed her cheek.
"What?" She gave him a. Queer look, but before she could react, realizing her greatest flaw, he had grasped her, and with speed and strength that caught her off-guard, he jumped up, squeezed her tightly, and flew out the front door into the awaiting sun. The stench of burning rotted meat was what hit his nostrils first, flaring up with stench as quickly as he skin was burning. He looked ver and saw that The Lady too was screaming in pain, trying desperately to get back to the house. He grabbed her again, and pinned her down with all his strength, reaching up and slamming the door shut.
"No! No! No! We will burn!" She exclaimed through coughs of smoke and papery skin flaring off into the air.
"And to Hell we shall burn together, at least, My Lady; we shall be prepared for eternity. Now embrace the ultra violet, you bitch!"
"No! I curse you! I will feast upon you forever! I spit upon your damned soul! I damn the rising of the sun! No!" With her last words, the Lady became nothing but bones of ash, and the boy followed, smiling as he rested upon his foe, sinking into the soot as he slowly began to burn. Then, he too vanished into a gust of wind, ash off on the zephyr, lost again and dead once more to the world.
The girl made it free, she went off to live her life, with some therapy she got over her PTSD, the whole incident being nothing more than a terrible dream. The house where the Lady feasted was full of bodies, mostly bones, some of decay, and it was seen as the worst serial killing in all of New England's history. No trace of the Lady nor the boy ever came up again, written off as at large, but with decades passing, the case was closed, just another case gone cold. The girl lived a fruitful life, dying at the fair age of eighty-three, surrounded by her loved ones, as many wish to go.
From there it's all hearsay if she ever found that love again in another life, or in a heaven or even a hell. All that was known is that she never mentioned the boy by his name, never mentioned he first love, and always claimed her husband was her true love, no matter how difficult that lie was to live with, she alway carried the boy in her heart. So with time she passed, and the memory of her passed as well, and the world spun again, with only mortality being a fear of the many, and a jest for the few, for the Lady was not the only one of her kind, and perhaps somewhere, the beasts will rise again, and block out the saving grace of the sun.
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