It was in that moment that her Power took hold, crackling just under the surface of her skin until the energy was at its apex, and even as the thirster spilled himself into her Cassandra lashed out to penetrate him body and soul. Her Power sprang forth from her like an invisible mass of tentacles, each one latching onto the thirster’s body as he shivered from their touch. Thirsters were powerful creatures, many of them, much like this one, had existed for decades beyond the average human lifespan, draining the blood of countless victims to sustain themselves. Years of experience, memories, fears, desires, and hunger flowed from him into Cassandra’s soul as his very physical vitality was siphoned off and added to her own. For a brief moment he became aware that the tables had turned, and attempted to recapture her with his gaze, and yet when their eyes met he only saw the blinding light of her Power burning out his senses. The thirster convulsed violently and fell to the ground as Cassandra breathed deeply of his essence while continuing to writhe upon the hood of the car. As the last of the thirster’s energy flowed into Cassandra she lifted herself from the car and looked at the prone form of the disabled thirster. Their eyes met briefly, and this time the thirster was unable to bring his gaze, as he was too drained and barely clinging to life.
Before his eyes Cassandra sent some of the stolen energy into her wounds, and soon the wounds on her shoulder and thigh were but scars, the bruises and scrapes vanished. Cassandra smiled to herself as she decided not to alter the soreness left in her womanhood from their brutal coupling, that, she thought, could stay awhile. She calmly walked to where the thirster had discarded her tactical harness and drew forth the small backup blade she had been reaching for earlier, and a pair of old pliers. The young warrior crouched next to the thirster and leaned down to put her mouth to his ear.
“I accept your sacrifice.” She whispered, just as she gripped the thirster’s head with one hand and rammed the blade into the back of his skull with the other. The thirster shook as his nervous system shut down, then his last breath left him as he died. Cassandra withdrew the blade and set it on the ground, then went to work with the pliers, carefully removing the top two fangs from the dead creature. She wiped them clean on a shred of the creature’s clothing then placed them in a pouch on her utility belt. She recovered her clothes and weapons, then looted the bodies of the ghouls, stripping them of their guns, ammunition, knives, and perhaps a day’s worth of assorted food items. Never one to leave fuel for other scavengers, Cassandra pulled her kit from her own vehicle and siphoned the fuel from the downed truck, adding a number of gallons to her own emergency stores. With little else let of use at the site, she returned to her idling car and threw it in gear, cranking the wheel as she gave it gas to get around the wreckage and continue the road ahead.
ACT II
Cassandra looked out across the vast wasteland from her perch atop a rocky ledge. The barren scrubland continued for empty mile after empty mile in all directions, the seeming dirt roads to nowhere all leading to this place. The thirster’s name had been Victor, in his human life prior to being transformed into a twisted blood-hungry creature by the Phage. With his energy came his knowledge, and his memories, though while they appeared to Cassandra in only fleeting glimpses, like a waking dream, she was able to follow a winding path to the thirster’s lair. It had taken two days of wandering in the desert to bring her to the makeshift compound, the fragmented dreams guiding her haphazardly along the labyrinth of dirt roads and switchbacks carved into the landscape. His memories of this place were terrifying, assaulting her mind with flashes of carnage and depravity. She had visions of his victims, men and women, savagely fucked as he fed on their blood. Bodies hung from hooks, some dead and others screaming as they were fucked and torn apart. She felt sick at the simultaneous feelings of revulsion and arousal. In some of the flashes Cassandra saw Zara’s face, dirty and downtrodden, and though it pained her to witness the girl in this state, Cassandra was confident that she was nearing the end of her quest to find the captured teen. Also burned into the thirster’s mindscape was the face of a strange being whose presence shook Victor to his core, no doubt another Power, much like herself. No doubt she would soon have this being to contend with in addition to the rest of the thirsters in Victor’s brood, as Victor’s memories illustrated a savage hierarchy within the group, this new Power at the top of the food chain.
The horn of a vehicle blared in the valley below, and Cassandra pushed aside the memory flashes as she focused her attention outwards. Two motorcycles were descending into the valley, followed by a massive tractor rig that had been modified to carry a giant cage. Inside the cage were over a dozen human captives, most gravely silent and broken, while a few still shouted feebly for help, their voices lost in the wind. Behind the trailer came several more assorted trucks and cars, presumably the other raiding parties that had been ravaging the outskirts of Las Vegas for the last several months. Cassandra knew she must act quickly, and wrapping her desert cloak tightly around her she began making a speedy descent from the ledge towards the compound. The compound was a series of massive canvas domes stretched across a patchwork frame of wood and metal pipe, the occasional rusted shipping container augmenting the transient look of the place. Wire fencing, some barbed and some not, layered together to create a perimeter around the tent village, and a handful of armed ghouls patrolled the area.
Cassandra remained fully armed, and keeping low to the ground she managed to use the hustle and bustle of the slave caravan arrival to get close. As the guards and raiders exchanged greetings and began the process of off-loading the captives the young warrior pulled her goggles over her eyes and fell in step with the other ghouls. Acting as if she was part of the ghoul force she shoved captives towards the gates, silently praying that her ruse would work.
“You there, woman, what master do you serve?” challenged one of the gate guards as Cassandra approached, leveling his shotgun at her chest with obvious threat. “I didn’t see you leave with the raiders, but here you are coming home with them.”
“I belong to Victor, he got word that refugees from Reno were trying to cross the badlands towards Vegas.” Said Cassandra as she kept walking towards the guard, silently calling upon her Power and gambling that she could get close enough to touch the ghoul, “He sent me back to pass the word.”
“I’ve never seen you around, and yeah before you say it I know a lot of the sand crews don’t get to attend the Feedings, so you have to show me you’re of the blood.” Grumbled the guard as he lowered his shotgun and waved over another guard. Cassandra knew that the guards would insist on tasting her blood, to ensure that she was in fact a ghoul, and more specifically one of Victors. For among the thirsters clan and coven were everything, and if she was the servant of a rival from outside the brood, she would be fighting for her life in short order. Cassandra swiftly stepped forward to close the gap between them as she un-fastened her dust veil and placed her hand behind his head to force his face down to hers. She kissed him deeply, forcing her tongue into his mouth, and though he struggled or the briefest instant, her Power took hold of him and his body sank into her embrace. She had foregone drinking water for the last two days, and though it took much of the energy she had stolen from Victor to sustain her body in the desert without the precious fluid, it had preserved the traces of the thirster’s blood in her mouth from her encounter with Victor. As the ghoul’s tongue entwined with hers he tasted Victor’s blood, and like all ghouls felt the presence of the master through the blood, his experience of it deepened by Cassandra’s energetic influence.
When she finally released him the guard took a step back and leaned against the post of the fence gate, exhaling deeply as he composed himself. “You’re one of Victor’s alright.”
“Yes, now let me pass, I’ve got errands to run.” She smiled coyly as she began walking around him.
“The Feeding is tonight, Elubec won’t be happy that Victor is absent.” Said the guard as he stepped aside to let her pass, then after a mo
ment of watching her walk into the compound he added, “Maybe I’ll get lucky and be chosen for the ritual, because I know they’re going to want you there.”
Cassandra gave him what she hoped was a knowing wink and continued to walk deeper into the compound. From the lecherous energy radiating from the gate guard Cassandra found herself wondering if she would have to fuck her way out of trouble, and just the though of it filled her with more of the troubling regret, and a pleasant tingle in her core told her that she was still aroused by it. As if having someone in her life she cared enough about to even have feelings of infidelity was arousing. She’d find no care or comfort here, she imagined, likely only more monsters and their devilish hungers.
She knew a great deal about thirsters, though her knowledge was somewhat limited to their hunting tactics and the best ways to kill them. Little was known by anyone what thirster culture might be like, or if they even had one, and rightly so, as most humans spent their time fighting the thirsters. She had a good guess that the Feeding would be some group bloodbath in which slaves were killed and consumed, as other slayers like herself had found mass graves filled with blood-drained corpses over the years, and it made a kind of sense. Though the guard’s comments about a ritual concerned her, and she wondered if perhaps this had to do with the strange being Elubec, the Power that resided at the center of this madness. The thirsters were never this organized, so she thought it must be the Power that was somehow calling the shots. Cassandra was able to wander the camp inconspicuously for nearly an hour, looking into tents and containers, coming to the conclusion that this was meant to be a camp on the move, and that the entire compound could be torn down and moved within just a few hours. Everywhere she looked there were ghouls and human slaves working on a variety of tasks, the ghouls assembling weapons or rationing ammunition as the humans repaired clothing and equipment or hauled supplies.
This coven of thirsters and ghouls seemed to function more like a nomadic war party than a stationary brood of killers, as was the norm with thirsters, who typically were rather territorial. Something was certainly off here, and Cassandra’s sense of unease grew more with each passing minute. As the sun set she made her way back to what she realized was the slave quarters, a number of shipping containers stacked next to each other, the insides outfitted with hammocks and cots for the weary. The dozen or more slaves brought by the raiding party had been herded into this area, joining a somewhat equal number of camp slaves.
Among them Cassandra caught sight of Zara, and for a brief moment could not move, so struck she was by the swell of emotions she experienced upon seeing Rook’s daughter. The teen had clearly seen abuse at the hands of her captors, as her smock was dirty and stained with blood in a few places, and she had fang feeding marks on her neck and both arms, in addition to the sallow complexion that marked her as the favorite blood doll of one or more resident thirsters. While it angered Cassandra to see Zara this way, she considered that being a blood doll had bought Zara more time to be rescued, instead of being callously drained and discarded like so many other human victims. Cassandra waited in the shadows until Zara walked away from the group, following the orders of a ghoul who instructed her to fetch oil from the supply tent and bring it to the central fire. Cassandra followed the teen through the camp, noticing that a low but insistent drum beat had filled the air, coming from the center of camp, and that the humans and ghouls were all making their way in that direction. As Zara went into the supply tent Cassandra bolted across the open ground and pushed her way inside the tent. Zara turned swiftly and backed away as she held an engraved clay amphora in front of her, then as she took in the sight of Cassandra the girl’s eyes went wide in disbelief.
“Zara! It’s me, Cass. Don’t be afraid.” whispered the young warrior as she lifted her goggles and threw back her cloak. “Your father is alive and I’ve come to get you out of here.”
Zara nearly dropped the amphora in shock, and then tears began to stream down her face as she set it down to embrace Cassandra. “I thought he was dead. Thank the gods. How did you find us?”
“It’s a long story Z, but no time, we’ve got to go, everyone’s distracted so let’s get a move on.” Cassandra said as she took Zara by the hand and began to walk towards the tent door.
“Cass, they’ve built an army. That’s what all the guns are for. They’re turning all the ghouls into thirsters tonight, and Elubec,” said Zara, as she shuddered at the name she had spoken, “He is worse than the thirsters, he’s like a god, hungry for more than just blood.”
“All the more reason for us to move quickly, we’ll get you out and warn the folks in Vegas, come on.” Cassandra ordered as she pushed her revolver into Zara’s hands. They emerged from the tent just as a hauntingly beautiful woman approached the tent. Her red eyes burned like coals against her yellow skin as her fangs descended in a wicked smile.
“Zara, you seem to have forgotten the oil. Go now and fetch it, nobody wants to experience the Feeding without such a thing.” purred the thirster as she walked in a predatory circle around the teen, then looking at Cassandra her eyes narrowed as she licked her lips, “And you, one of the sand crew, from the looks of you its no wonder Victor never brings you here, wants to keep you all to himself I’m sure.”
Cassandra kept her face neutral, hoping not to blow her cover as she tactfully avoided the thirster’s gaze. “He can be a jealous master that is true.”
“Well, we all serve someone my dear, all roads lead to Elubec, as you’ll soon see.” Smirked the thirster as she watched Zara leave the tent with the oil, motioning with her head or the teen to head for the center of camp. Then, so swift that Cassandra was unable to stop herself, the thirster raised her hand to her own face and snapped her fingers, and the young warrior’s eyes involuntarily locked with the thirster’s. Once again Cassandra found herself locked in a mighty struggle to maintain control of her own mind, the sudden and powerful urge to expose her neck for this elegant predator warring with her survival instincts. “Come with me servant of Victor, you will be a lovely addition to the evening’s festivities”.
Cassandra knew that she could expend the last of the energy she had stolen from Victor to break the gaze on her own, though doing so would leave her all too human, and the thirsters would most certainly see through her flimsy ruse as a ghoul. She had to banish her fear, and place her trust in her Power, choosing to have faith that no matter what was in store she would prevail. She could only hope that Zara had enough wits about her to make good use of the distraction of whatever the Feeding was about to be and the revolver she’d noticed that the girl had managed to hide in the folds of her smock.
The thirster walked backwards for a short time, her eyes traveling lewdly up and down Cassandra’s body, the thirster having removed the young warrior’s cloak. Once they had reached the center of camp the thirster broke the gaze and turned to join the rest of the thirsters, ghouls, and human captives gathered around the camp’s central structure. There was no way Cassandra would be able to escape unnoticed now, and from the way that the crowd looked at her she could tell they thought of her as not only one of their own but as a participant in whatever was about to happen next. Soon she had her answer, as Elubec appeared before his flock.
The central structure of camp was a domed metal cage, the inside lavishly furnished with couches, rugs, and pillows. At the top of the dome hung what was easily the fattest man Cassandra had ever seen. He was a giant of a man, the folds of his great bulk pouring over the wire and leather harness that kept him suspended from the top of the dome. He was naked except for a headset and microphone that extended over his bulbous mouth. His eyes burned with a blue radiance that made Cassandra’s stomach turn, and she knew in an instant that this was Elubec. The being spoke, its voice dripping with avarice and magnified throughout the camp through the loudspeaker affixed atop the dome.
“Welcome my children. The Feeding is upon us once again. Our dance of flesh and blood. Soon my children, soon we will hav
e the strength to storm Las Vegas and make it our own. A new kingdom. Your kingdom. Tonight through my Power more of your kin will lie below me and rise as gods. Through Elubec alone.” he croaked through his microphone, the heavy voice permeating the camp with a sense of wanton hunger, a craving to touch a power beyond oneself.
“Through Elubec alone,” intoned the assembled thirsters and ghouls, though the human captives mostly remained silent, those new to the camp looking about in horror while those accustomed to life in the camp simply looked on with hollow gazes.
“Bring forth the chosen, and let us feast.” Bellowed Elubec, and from the crowd came two thirsters, one the female Cassandra had previously encountered, and a second she had never laid eyes on. The thirsters went among the group, each carrying a chalice filled with blood, marking ghouls and captives as they went.
The female thirster strode to Cassandra and ran a bloody finger down the young warrior’s cheek, saying “With my blood I mark you as Chosen, and with our bodies we make sacrament to Elubec so that you may be reborn”. Then the thirster brought her face to Cassandra’s ear and whispered, “Victor lied to you, as he does all his ghouls. Elubec will transform you; free you from the Phage bond to your creator, so that you have no master but him. Better to serve a living god than a petty lord like Victor yes my pretty?”
Cassandra kept her wits, and said “Yes. Through Elubec alone,” which seemed to satisfy the thirster, who moved on and marked several other ghouls.
Body Shrine (Savage Erotica) Page 2