by Sasha Satori
Fabio parks in the grass, I make him park in reverse close to the house. Running for our lives, feels like a real possibility. We see freakishly tall buff men, or should I say bloodsucking vampires. Yeah, I'm a vamp hater, sue me. Most are wearing leather jackets and jeans, but some are dressed in business suits. What a dichotomy. Their day at the office would involve mass murder and torture. Their surrounded by a whole lot of half-dressed human women. Of course, their trying to hook up with a vampire. I get it. Some women feel they need a protector and provider. I wouldn’t think of a vampire as hubby and baby daddy material, but they are on top of the food chain. The predators of the predators. Power is what is most revered. These women fill their mind with delusional fanciful thoughts of a vampire getting smitten. They forget many of these bloodsuckers are the epitome of evil and psychotic. They aren't capable of any feelings. The only thing they have going for them, is they're known to be amazing lovers. In part I would assume by their supernatural speed, and euphoria inducing bites. Their blood accelerates healing, one drop can dramatically slow aging. They don’t realize that to a vampire, humans are just a big bloody juice box or a flesh vessel for their primal desires. This place gives me a bad feeling, I really don't want to be here. Why me? Oh, that’s right, I'm friends with Gemma.
We get out of the car and walk towards this massive compound. Drunk women are everywhere. As we walk past the crowd of vampires, the bloodsuckers are stopping mid-sentence to blatantly check me out with hungry eyes and extended fangs. What in the actual fuck? Just like the guard, they are looking at me like technicolor cat nip. Why I am I sticking out like a sore thumb? There are beautiful women everywhere. Where the hell is their vampire etiquette for guests. Gemma slows her walk to get in pace with mine, she elbows me hard, "What the fuck, did you spritz vampire hormones on you? All the vampires are looking at you like they want to get down and fangy with you." I elbow her back, "This is all your fault. If I would have even suspected I would be seeing a vampire today, I would have worn an ugly, baggy turtle neck that goes all the way up to my ears, with glue-on patches of garlic, wooden stakes and a hot sun," I whisper harshly back. I quicken my pace, finally we make it through what felt like Death Valley, and enter the vampire’s lair. We walk through what looks like a foyer, then past a set of open, ornately designed solid metal doors. Strobe lights and loud music are blasting. Considering vamps have extremely sensitive hearing, I am seriously surprised they have the music this loud. but I guess they don’t get hearing loss. This is not a typical party though. There are violent, killer, bloodsucking, immortal heathens everywhere. It’s going to be damn near impossible for me to have a good time. Stripper pole stages are peppered throughout the massive, ornate space. Deep purple velvet modern couches and chaises are strewn about creating a foreign ambiance of over indulged luxury and wealth. The poles have strippers in some stage of undress dancing. There are a few metal cages that have women dressed in bondage. One woman is sucking a vamps schlong who is standing next to the cage she is in. Complete and utter debauchery. I continue taking in the scene, and possible threats. When my eyes suddenly lock on a beautiful disaster of a man. He’s sitting on an elaborate gold throne, which is raised high above the crowd on a dais. The throne is encrusted with very large red rubies, diamonds and emeralds. Vampire skulls with large fangs line up on top of the throne. He has a gold cup in one hand. Gold gun on his lap. He is leaned back in the throne, his legs outstretched and open. He looks bored and restless as two strippers dance provocatively in front of him. K. Flays 'Make Me Fade' is playing loud. The colored strobe lights, mixed with the dark shadows, accentuates his sharp masculine facial features. A fierceness in his features that you would expect from an ancient warrior. The epitome of masculinity. He has a visible scar across his left eyebrow that travels to just below his eye, which only enhances his savagery. His naked chest showcases his broad shoulders which have thick cords of muscles stemming from the base of his neck to his shoulders. Even though he's sitting, he’s huge. He must be well over 6'4 and descend from some Viking giant ancestry. He is one handsome devil. For some reason I am captivated by him. As if sensing me, his head turns sharply, he looks right at me. Our eyes lock through the crowd and dim lighting. Like two magnets that refuse to separate. Interest and lust instantly spark in his eyes. Suddenly his long white fangs descend. A moment later, shock and confusion show plainly on his face. Strange how I seem to be reading him like an open book. Even though his hungry eyes and sinister intense stare gives me the goosebumps. I feel a strange connection that has my heart aching and lust melting like hot liquid throughout my body and lady bits. That thought has my eyes roaming down his naked muscular chest, his defined rock hard eight pack abs look almost unreal. I nearly salivate like one of Pavlov dogs as my eyes continue their descent to his black sinful leather pants, the sight of his large protruding bulge, causes my lips to slightly part. Doesn’t he know it’s not right to look like a woman's wet dream incarnate, it causes us to massively swoon like teenagers. I lick my lips, in some sort of strange instinct that moist lips will be needed to devour him, all of him. His eyes roam to my lips then back up to my eyes. A loud resonant, hungry growl echo's over the blaring music. I notice his hands are tightly gripping the thrones arm rest, he seems like he is actively restraining himself, and only managing it by thin thread. A moment more that feels like eternity passes. I still can’t seem to look away from his molten swirling silver eyes that are glowing a phosphorescent green. A large group of people walk past me, blocking my path of vision to this mystery man, no not man, vampire. Once the people walk by, I see his thrown is empty. Damn, he's fast, must be in a hurry to stick his fangs in someone. Forcing myself to snap out of my weird, sexy vamp hypnosis and to remember my strong dislike for them. I continue walking, to catch up with Fabio and Gemma. Both can find their way to a bar blindfolded. On my way there, Fabio flags me down, and passes me a drink, "Hey babes, I got you a strawberry mojito. Gemma had the bartender put an extra shot of rum in it, she said to tell you, she expects you dirty dancing on the bar top, taking tittie jello shots by the end of the night. That your intact hymn is cock blocking you into becoming an old cat lady spinster." Let Gemma tell that to my face, fuck tittie jello shots, I'll be giving her tittie twisters. "Fabio, you do realize we are at a vampire party. Vampires. That have freakishly superhuman hearing. Tell her to hymn her own business, that she already wore out that cock blocking pun joke. Also, you know I only drink unopened beers at parties. Who is going to save our asses, if we all get roofied? You can have it, Fabio." Fabio looks at me, like Gemma was under exaggerating, and I really am an uptight virgin. "I had to endure her laughing at her pun joke for a minute straight. But, baby, you do need some good dick, like a newborn baby penguin needs his mama. We're sitting at a table near the DJ, Gemma is gaga over him." Premature aging in process. More than likely that DJ is a vampire. Looks like I'm on babysitting duty tonight. "Keep an eye on her Fabio, I don’t want her alone with any vampire, unless I'm there. And dude, your baby penguin analogy is gross. I'll catch up with you guys as soon as I go to the bar and grab a beer." I tell him, as I hand him back the mojito. "Fine, bitch. Just hurry up, you know her steel lady balls are bigger than mine." He huffs and flamboyantly catwalks away.
I find my way to the bar for my beer, not my favorite, but it will have to do. The bartender is a vampire man who looks to be around forty. He is busy making drinks at a speed my eyes have a hard time keeping up with. All the while throwing the bottles in the air and then catching them before they hit the ground. Geez, this guy makes a ninja on crack look like a slow turtle. I feel pins and needles sensation take hold of my flesh. That’s a certified 'bad feeling' sign. Being around all these vampires is really making me uneasy. I force myself watch the bartender finishing his performance, and not look around like little red riding hood in the dark, dangerous forest. Fear triggers their prey instincts. I feel a mans arm as he comes to stand flush against my side arm. He leans against the bar top, leaning his head
into my field of vision. Dude is seriously all up in my personal bubble. I turn to look at the creep that obviously needs my evil stink eye to take a damn hint. As I look up to his face, I see him smiling down at me. Creepy. Then I notice his red tinted pupils and fangs. Greeeeat. So much for fun night out. Here is what must be triggering my pins and needles. I swear Gemma…just pain…so much pain. Ugh. Unlike the one on the throne, this one just creeps me the hell out. He is looking at me like I'm a yummy snack. “What are you drinking pretty human?" In a cutthroat world like today, you never can show weakness. "Not what you want to be drinking. No offense, but I'm not into vamps. Or looking to date right now. Have a good night though." I lean over bar top and yell, "Unopened Corona!" Basically, dismissing him. A second later the cold beer appears in front of me. I throw a five-dollar bill on the bar top and turn to leave. A painfully tight squeeze on my forearm stops me. Someone didn’t like me saying no. The creepy as fuck vampire locks eyes with me, his eyes glowing red. All vampires have phosphorescent mood changing eye colors that are triggered by strong emotions. I think red, might be anger. "Come with me human. Do as I say," his says, with his voice resonating with his compulsion magic. What a lowlife. "Such a pathetic, little fuck tart you are. You must use mind compulsion on women, because no woman in her right or drunken mind, would fuck your beady eyed, fugly pug face. It’s so damn ugly, your momma couldn’t even look at you without letting her pimpette hand swing." I furiously say loudly, with very little volume control. Middle age and up vamps usually have mastered mind compulsion. While it works one hundred percent of the time on a human. My magic or blood lineage makes me completely immune to it. He is equal parts enraged and confused by my words. I look like a regular human, but I am not. As I feel my magic seeping from me, ready for battle, I feel droplets of warm liquid spritz my face. I wipe my face with the back of my hand. Dark blackish-red blood? I look up at creepy vamp. He has a huge hole in the middle of his chest. His round face looks frozen in a surprised pained expression. He then collapses sideways onto the ground, turning into a shriveled pile of husk and ashes. Behind him is the handsome, menacing man that was sitting on the thrown… gripping the dead vampire’s heart in his fisted hand.
Chapter 2
Valentina
His face is an array of fierce primal rage. Long, white fangs savagely bite into the heart and begins drinking from it. His swirling silver and obsidian eyes never leaving mine. I'm feeling quite queasy right now. He finishes with a loud sucking pop as he tosses the vampires heart on the floor. As casually, as if it was just a half-eaten apple. He slowly prowls within two inches of my body. He has definitely popped my personal space bubble. We all have a fight or flight instincts. I apparently, also have a 'what the fuckery just happened?'. My eyes are having a heated conversation with my brain on what the fuck tarts just happened. Blood still dripping from the corners of his mouth, he bends down to my ear, and says in a deep, dark, resonant voice, "I was parched. Nothing like five-hundred-year-old blood to add a pep in my step." I'm about to barf. Everyone around us has stopped and stared at us. My eyes look out at the staring crowd, searching the room for any show of outrage. Any minute now, people are going to grab their pitch forks and form a murder squad, demanding this vampire's fangs. As if noticing my current distraction, he turns and yells with spittle flying, "What the fuck, you motherfuckers looking at!" He roars at the crowd. A yelp of surprise escapes me. Complete psycho. Everyone almost breaks their necks looking away. I guess no pitchfork wielding ride or die homies in this bunch. To be fair, I am in Killers United turf. Gathering my metaphorical lady balls, I straighten myself and ask, "Was that really necessary?" He circles around me. Like I'm a baby lamb and he is a mighty lion playing with his food. This baby lamb bites. "You handled yourself bravely with him. No human ever dares to speak so provokingly to a vampire. That was foolish, girl. What would you have done when he did this to you?" Too fast for me to react, he picks me up and pushes me against the wall in a darkened alcove. His hand has a firm grip on my neck, as he towers over me. He must be at least 6"8, more than I thought when I saw him sitting on the throne. His body is made for war. Muscular and sturdily built. A Category 5 hurricane would have a hard time taking him down. His body is flush with mine. I may not be a sexpert, but there is no mistaking his erection for a gun. It sure matches his size, I feel his extremely thick and long… wiener, okay more like super-sized manaconda, against my stomach. With a deep dangerous voice that matches his body, he whispers his hot metallic blood scented breath directly in my ear "Answer me." While he is as hot as sex flavored cotton candy. I am massively annoyed by repeatedly being jostled about by touchy vampires. Does this vampire seriously expect me to melt at his cutie pie face like a love drunk guppy? Puh-lease. Vampire wants to play 'jostle the human' around, while he rubs his engorged man meat on me like I'm a human humping board. Game on, sweet cheeks. I massage slow circles on his chest, with one hand, as my other slips into my unzipped purse to grip my berretta. I whisper back, in a slow, seductive tone, "Mmmm, do you want me to tell you, or show you, sugar?" His pupils are swirling like molten silver, they look like dark hungry pools of lust, with a phosphorescent green fierceness triggered by intense emotion. His eyes are screaming obscene things that would make even Gemma blush. He is really, really aroused. "Yesss." He purrs in a trance. I hear a slight quiver in his voice. Something that should be impossible. Hands on my ass cheeks, he lifts me up off the ground and starts gyrating his hips and cock to my core. Even with us still being clothed, he is pivoting with hard, faster than my eye can track thrusts. If my blood wasn’t sparkling like kerosene champagne I would smirk at his complete loss of control. Vampires value their sense of control, considering how they revel in the basest of behaviors, I have always found that quite pointless. Instead of shooting him immediately as I had planned, my traitorous body is pushing my pelvic out to meet his savage thrusts. My breaths are coming in fast staccato rhythm. I'm making soft mewing sounds of pleasure as my pink thong is suddenly torn away. I hear a primal, feral like growl come from him. I look up and see his face contorted in an animalistic expression of need. A fierce mixture of primal possession and lust, it makes my body shake out of anticipation. As if he lit the match, satin sparks of fire light my insides. His hand unbuttons his leather pants. Like a voice from a faraway tunnel. The insatiable mental fog of lust subsides enough for me to bring myself back to reality. A one-night stand with a psycho, violent vampire killer, is definitely not on my bucket list. I don't think. I just do. As if I flip an auto pilot switch. When you’re fighting vamps that’s the only way you have any chance of winning, their speed is unmatched. That's a fundamental rule, I relentlessly drill into all my martial arts students. I pull my gun out of my purse, with a firm grip, I aim at his foot and shoot, with a silver bullet. Besides the silver being very expensive, the time it takes me to hand make them is considerable, but oh so worth it. The properties in the silver somehow wreak havoc on a vampire’s system and impairs their normally instant healing regeneration of injuries. My free hand grips his shoulder, I pull myself higher, and head butt him in the nose, hard. His head snaps back, as his fingers release me. My foot follow with a straight air kick to his man nuggets. The force knocks him back a few feet. All this happens in a slow motion, a Nano second, like a vampire matrix fight scene. The feral war growl that seems to vibrate the building, has me wanting my snuggie and stuffed hello kitty doll. His eyes are twirling pitch black. No need to decipher his mood. It is screaming imminent homicide. Someone is about to be murdered. It might be me. I will my black vine tendrils to grip his feet in place. Thankfully, they whip out at an incredible velocity, almost with an eager hunger to be released. He goes to reach for me, but his feet are immobile. He becomes a feral beast, pushing to free of my magic. A safe distance away, I point the gun at his heart, "Since this is a purely hypothetical scenario of what I would've done. I won’t kill you. But Mr. Creepy would have found out that a little human girl can be quite the heartbreaker. Now I'm the on
e who is parched. I'm going to have a strawberry mojito at home. Be a good wittle baby vampy and the vines will fade in a wittle bit," I baby talk him, with a mocking smirk. My runaway mouth and crazy smack talking thoughts, are like Bonnie and Clyde, they say, 'fuck the world' and spew out like a bad case of verbal diarrhea. In hindsight, it probably isn’t too wise to taunt an immortal vampire, who kills his own kind and drinks from their heart. His fangs are on full display, his face turning a red tint. Considering vampires don’t have an active circulatory system, that’s saying something. Rage contorts his features. He struggles to stay calm enough to speak. "I will find you. No matter where you hide in this universe. I own you. Your freedom is gone. Your mine, little human. Your life as you know it, is over." Before I turn to leave, I smile brightly, "You’re so adorable when your mad, just like a little rabid chihuahua with grudge. Anyway, wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but it most definitely was not.'' His teeth begin making snapping noises, as he bites the air, lunging towards me. He pushes to free himself again, one leg snaps free of my vines. Oh shit! I run out of the alcove and start running in a crazed panic through the party to find Gemma and Fabio. I continue pushing my way through the crowd, yelling their name. The DJ! I run to the DJ's music station, and spot them at a nearby table. Of course, Gemma's idea of 'girls night out' equates to me getting into vamp beef and running for my life. This is exactly why I'm a hermit homebody. I run up to them, struggling to catch my breath. I must look like a scared deer, that just escaped a shot gun wielding hunter. "Gemma! Fabio! Lets go now! Hurry! We need to leave." I blubber out, in a frenzy. They turn instantly alarmed. I never lose my cool. But I'm freaking the hell out right now. "Why? What the hell happened?" I grab their hands, and pull them up, "No time to explain. Move!" They finally listen. I lead the way to the door, their hands still in my firm death grip. Just as we exit, I hear a deafening enraged yell coming from the same direction of the hot psycho. We make a mad dash to the car, once outside. Thankfully, the vampire crowd that was out front is no longer there. Gemma and I, rush in the backseat, as Fabio starts the car. He peels out like the Tasmanian devil just took a hit of crack; thank goodness he captured my strong need for us to get the hell out of here. We speed through the open metal guard gate. He almost spins out while taking the sharp turn back onto the road. Fabio is going over 100mph, his engine is roaring at a deafening decibel. Tension feels as thick as a frozen stick of butter. I am frantically looking out the window into the darkness. Half expecting to see a horde a vampires running next to the car or worst…him. In a trembling voice Fabio asks, "What the fuck happened, Valentina?" Time to spill the beans. I start telling them about the creep at the bar. And how this totally psycho vampire ripped his heart out. "I actually saw him sitting on the thrown when we first came in." I hear both their gasps of horror at the same time. "What?" I ask them confused by their sudden intense reaction. Gemma grabs me by my shoulders. "He was sitting on the throne?" What's this all about? "Yesss." I reply, in a 'so what' tone. Her face of utter horror and dread becomes more pronounced. "That was the king of the Killers United! Oh my god. We are all dead. Nobody can escape him. Not to mention is worldwide armies of vampires!" It’s a good thing I didn’t mention the 'I will find you anywhere in the universe, your mine'. Blah. Blah. Blah. psychobabble. "Relax, between my magic and badassery, he should be the one running," I tell them in what I hope is a confident voice. Gemma huffs in disbelief, "Obviously, you don’t know exactly who Axel Steele is. He was made from one of the original vampires. The purest and strongest line. He is one of a very small handful of vampires with tracing abilities and is by far the oldest vampire alive. He is believed to be about two thousand years old. He has held a steady dominion over all vampires. His ruthlessness is his trademark. He kills if you look at him the wrong way. If you wear a shirt he doesn’t like. For sport. Just because really. He lost his sanity many centuries ago. Always is in a psychotic rage. It is said that the only one that can save his soul and sanity, Is his destined Altra Meta." I stare at her trying to take this all in. "You speak like his full-time peeping-tom stalker skulking in his bushes. Your vampire fan girling, is just not okay, Gems." I huff annoyed. She holds my eye contact. "Stop being so judgey. He is every women's wet dream, but also potential nightmare, if you piss him off. Everything I just told you Is a fact." I shrug. "More like a really good PR firm." I sure as hell hope so.