The other women scrambled to the furthermost corner of the shower room, quivering with fear at the strange, dark music filling their deranged minds. They stared at her in awe and trepidation.
“She is Eternal, sent to destroy us,” one woman whispered with a look of sheer hatred.
“What can we do?” another said, hiding her eyes from Eternal’s glory.
“She has come to return us to Oblivion,” another screamed, tears of terror pouring down her face.
The women huddled for comfort, whimpering and trembling, snake-like forked tails whipping from their behinds.
Eternal smiled at their discomfort and wondered if she was a demon hunter. Moaning with delight, she massaged her breasts and between her legs. Her fingers probed her sex with ever-increasing urgency. She was close to an orgasm. Then everything went black.
She was now a naked woman, bald and shimmering with ice and her hands ripped the backbone from a gargoyle-like creature. She raised bloody hands to the obsidian moon casting grey-black light into the underworld abyss known as Oblivion. She tossed the bloody spine into the heavy mist shrouding the ground up to her waist.
She stared down the deep ravine, snaking between towering cliffs of black ice, gleaming darkly under the lifeless glow above. The carpet of freezing mist billowed, creating a swirling tunnel. Something moved within its shroud.
A putrid demon hopped along under cover of the freezing fog. The creature’s bloated belly crawled with slithering lice. Its breath clung to its hideous face. A whip-like tail slashed through the mist like a scythe through soft flesh. The demon spoke with a high-pitched hissing, clicking teeth in a staccato fashion. There came replies within the protection of the shroud. Its head whipped around in alarm and screamed out, ducking under the thick ice-fog.
The woman of pure translucent white leapt from the mist and pounced on the repulsive demon cowering in terror. She opened her mouth with a snarl and tore out the creature’s throat with massive fangs. Her sharp claws ripped the demon’s festering heart from its ribcage. She raised the still beating heart to the black moon and screamed with triumph. With a sickening squelch she devoured the bloody flesh with relish.
She used the demon’s vile essence to mark her face with the kill – her face now a bloody mask of death. She raised her hands to the black moon and called out, “I am you’re eternal offspring. Let me free! Let me continue the eternal hunt.”
The moon coalesced into the face of the divine one –Sekhmet the Vampire of Destruction. Her beauty ushered forth the means of release from Oblivion.
A door opened high above the dark crevasse. Bright light cascaded across the darkness. Her skin tingled and reddened with the intense heat.
All around her, demons of every shape and size scurried away from the light. Some were not quick enough and burst into flames. Their awful screams were divine music to the naked woman.
The moon dissolved into a flock of ravens and flew downwards in a swirl of black feathers and raucous calls. The ravens shed their feathers that spiraled down and clung to the woman in a cloak of shimmering black.
Now protected from the divine light she walked through the Valley of the Demons, laughing at the pathetic attempts the inhabitants made to inflict death upon her. One by one, they perished. Disemboweled and beheaded for their feeble efforts.
Before her, appeared steps of black ice covered in freezing fog. Far above, the hideous light offered her means of escape from Oblivion. She ascended the stairs to embrace her destiny. Frantic to escape, demons attacked with disregard to the searing rays emanating from above. She kicked them to a screaming death far below. The higher she went, the more feathers fell at her feet. And with each discarded feather a dark lullaby of celestial design filled her inner being.
The woman entered the light. The last feather dropped from her naked, bloody body. She bowed to Sekhmet.
Sekhmet’s beauty was a sight to behold. Her translucent skin was unblemished by age. Her small pointed ears, bald scalp of smooth skin and hairless body gave her the appearance of neither man nor woman. Her breasts were small and between her legs dwelled nothing at all. Proof of human birth was also missing.
The woman held Sekhmet’s hand and immediately she understood her duty as a demon slayer. She stepped into the awaiting sarcophagus and stretched out with arms across her chest.
“Now rest my daughter ... until the Eternal Moon has aligned with her celestial kindred.” Sekhmet leaned in and kissed the woman on her lips. She slid the cover with a scraping of stone obliterating the light.
Sekhmet banished the light with a wave of her hand. She waited in darkness and sighed. The Eternal Moon shone with a liquid silver of divine destiny. The moon’s kindred, Orion, slipped across the vast heavens and aligned herself with her mistress directly above the pinnacle of the Great Pyramid. A beam of celestial light pierced the tip of the monument.
The woman’s eternal birth was drawn from the stone sarcophagus now bathed in moonlight. Its cover slid open, revealing the woman, naked, bald and beautiful. She appeared lifeless with eyes shut tight.
Sekhmet bit her own wrist and placed the wound to the woman’s lips. “I give my daughter life and her name shall be Eternal!”
Eternal gripped Sekhmet’s wrist and drank with a terrifying thirst. Dark tresses appeared upon Eternal’s head. Fangs grew from her mouth. Her obsidian eyes gleamed with blood lust. She hissed and stepped from her birthing chamber. She raised her arms to the Eternal Moon sent on the sixth day of summer’s first awakening.
“I am Eternal!” She looked around the small stone room and feared she was trapped. Her eyes settled on Sekhmet and begged for her wisdom. “What is this place?”
Sekhmet smiled. “The gateway to Oblivion, my daughter. I am your eternal maker ... you have all my knowledge to do with as you so wish. Your blood was born of the Eternal Moon and can only be freely given to your one true love. If you ever return to Oblivion, you must await her return ... it is your birthright.”
“How will I know my true love, Mother?” Eternal begged with outstretched hands.
Sekhmet turned and snarled. “Fear not ... you will know, my child. And now I must leave, for too much time has passed. Your mother is now the Eternal Moon, obey her urges and feed when she so desires.”
The Eternal Moon!
Chapter 5
Eternal opened her eyes to a resounding slap from the vile demon witch.
One of the female patients pointed and screamed out, “Eternal! May the Devil save us!”
“Bonbon!” the witch shouted. She herded the stupid cows across the changing room into the tender care of Bonbon.
Demon Witch whirled round and stormed up face to face with Eternal. It tossed a grey hospital gown at Eternal to cover her hideously pale bitch’s skin.
Eternal repulsed from the onslaught of hateful thoughts from the witch. The thing was sickened by the patient openly displaying her Devil’s slip cover like the filthy whore that she was.
Eternal sent her own message to the witch.
The vile matriarch shook her head, trying to dispel the ancient music caressing her tormented mind with the screams of ravens. She stared at Eternal with a look of pure hatred and disgust.
Eternal picked up the gown, slipping it on as if in a sublime trance, not a sound uttered.
“That’s better, whore!” the stinking witch said with a sneer. She snatched Eternal by the arm and dragged her out of the changing room and down the corridor.
Eternal was dragged up a winding staircase and into a corridor bathed in unbearable sunshine. She faltered at the scorching light, shielding her eyes from the intense bombardment. Her screams bounced from the plain white walls. She broke loose from the witch and tried to run back through the door.
Eternal could not open the door. She looked around in shock and terror. She was trapped in this furnace. The witch slammed her against a wall, almost knocking out her front teeth. Her lip bled and was about to prove that with her fingers when her
arm was wrenched and twisted behind her back.
“You ever do that again, you’ll be found strangled by your own bedclothes.” The hideous creature sneered with delight.
The shocking treatment brought Delicate Rose back. She turned her face away from the stinging golden rays of sunlight not knowing where she was.
The nurse opened a heavy wooden door and threw Delicate Rose into a tiny room.
Delicate Rose smashed into a steel-framed cot, slicing her shins. She cried out in pain and collapsed to the floor. Searing agony lanced her arm. Sunlight from the barred window sprayed harmful rays over her. With little room to spare, she scurried away from the golden glow, almost knocking over a metal bucket chained to the wall. She was slapped across the face by her tormentor. Delicate Rose’s inner sense was bombarded with a barrage of hate, disgust and murderous thoughts.
“Sit down, you bitch!” the nurse screeched almost hysterically, going purple with rage.
Delicate Rose could not turn away from the look of revulsion aimed at her. She was forced to sit on the cot with a stern hand on her shoulder. Her fragile skin was gripped with deliberate intent and twisted by bony fingers.
Delicate Rose remained almost trance-like while her left breast was so cruelly pinched. She felt nothing for her terror had numbed her fractured mind.
“You could do with some extra meat on those bones, filthy whore.” The hideous woman frowned at the lack of reply. She gripped one of Delicate Rose’s nipples and twisted it. The nurse’s dismay at the lack of reaction froze on her hateful glare.
“I’ll let Bonbon spray his mess on your filthy pillows. He likes that.” She cackled. “I imagine you will too.” Nurse Marteau shook her head with disgust and left the room. The door was slammed shut with a thunderous boom eliciting wails of despair from the other patients.
Delicate Rose was frozen to the firm bed. She rubbed her sore breasts and cried silent tears. To shield her eyes from the intense glare she pulled her thin cotton gown up over her face. She removed her improvised sunglasses and turned to the sound of a bolt locking the door. If ever there was a hell, this was it.
Her tears flowed unabated, trying desperately to understand her predicament. With squinting, bloodshot eyes she risked another peek out of the window. She quickly turned away, blinking several times to remove the after-image of searing white from her vision.
She tugged a blanket from the cot and draped it over the window. She had to repeat this several times with eyes closed from the hurtful rays. Once the blanket stayed, she curled up in the fetal position on the cot.
Delicate Rose could not remember the source of her fear – only that she knew it was Him. She concentrated with every fiber of her body but nothing came to her. If only she could remember?
Eternal spoke to her, “Let me in! Let me comfort you.”
Delicate Rose slumped into a troubled sleep where Eternal ruled supreme. She dreamed of death-white faces drifting in a heavy, blood-red mist full of whispers and hysterical screams. The faces screamed down a dark tunnel. The tunnel widened, people were dancing, drinking, having fun.
She seemed trapped with these people inside a magnificent room of gold, opulent and comfortable. Her hand reached out and touched a red rose, a color so deep, so perfect she could not resist. She flinched in terror. His eyes met hers. His hatred assaulted her. Her precious blood, dripping from her hand, forced her heart to pound like canon fire.
In a flash of red, she tended to a woman with a mane of red hair seated before a gold-framed mirror. She bowed and lovingly brushed Queen Elizabeth’s hair. After applying ample amounts of chalk paste to her majesty’s exposed skin, Eternal helped her into a heavy brocade dress with a high neck ruff surrounding her regal head. The Queen gave a curt nod. Eternal gleamed large fangs and opened a vein in her wrist. She poured blood into a gold goblet for her majesty to maintain her power.
In a flash of red, Eternal posed naked for a female artist. Her tormentor – Him, leaned against a door, ever watchful with that whip in his hand. The room changed to a stone circle with a floor of straw. She flinched at each crack of that whip slicing her flesh with hatred. The room changed.
Eternal was trapped in her attic prison. The whip licked her flesh red raw. Bloody fingernails, her fingernails, scratched at the door. The gory groove in the wood finally split wide enough for her fingers to slip through. With an ear-shattering of splintered wood the door was torn apart.
Eternal escaped her prison. She paused to listen to three beating hearts in the rhythm of sleep after a torrid orgy. Fleeting images of Him being pleasured by two strangers, one a muscular Negro and the other a petite brunette were forced from her mind. She entered an empty bedroom and removed a spray bottle from a long black coat. She smashed the bottle in the hall, covering her face from the poison gas. Her broken fingernails looked awful. She covered them with fine silk gloves. Blood stained the gloves.
Her distorted dream revealed her escape from the garret in Montmartre. Montmartre! Paris! She had lived in Paris. Please remember it all! Please! The Ritz! Salvation awaited her at the Ritz with Ellise and Sebastian and her true love. Salvation from The Count!
Eternal snapped out of her dream. She thought long and hard, concentrating on flashing images of her immediate past scattered like a jigsaw puzzle in her rambling mind. Her mind placed the pieces of her past into a semblance of order she could understand. In her desperation to find her true love, she had escaped her nemesis, The Count, four days ago.
Yes! That’s it! It all started with The Count. That’s who was after her, who she ran from, who stalked her this very moment. Always The Count. But who was this devil? She could not remember.
Chapter 6
4 days earlier, 1st June
Lucien Dupont breathed The Count’s particular stench of decay that tainted the cool evening air. His statuesque frame stood before a large gabled house. His mistress, the pale moon of the underworld was not yet in full bloom, still reflecting the dying sun’s rays. He bathed in her divine light with arms outstretched, his long dark coat flapping in the gentle summer breeze. He entered the inner sanctum of his desire and he faltered, catching his breath when a rusty creak shattered the silence.
His powerful evil side – The Count – commanded an audience. “You must not fail me Lucien ... my destiny is a mere heartbeat away!”
Lucien smirked, closing the front door. With the agility of a cat he raced up the stairs to the attic room and paused before unlocking the door.
Silently he entered the garret and with rampant fumbling unbuttoned his black leather trousers. He shook his long raven-black hair from his eyes while massaging his cock with his left hand. There you are! He unhooked a black leather whip from his belt and let it uncoil, mimicking his unbridled lust. The flickering light from a single candle was swallowed up by pervading shadows, concealing the object of his passion.
“Only a few more days to go my young host and then the night will be mine forever,” The Count whispered hoarsely into Lucien’s mind.
His lean, muscular body loomed over the naked female lying upon the four-poster bed. He watched her moaning fretfully in her sleep, his left hand stroking his erection.
He admired her silky white skin contrasting to perfection with the black satin sheets.
Her eyes flew open. She gasped in shock and backed up to the wall in fear. Her bright red hair cascaded across her trembling shoulders and her pale skin reflected the moon’s essence. “Please no ... please don’t. I’ll scream.”
The Count was amused. Let’s play our little game, he mused. He advanced with malicious intent and let rip with the whip. He laughed at her recoiling from its crack.
Under The Count’s influence, Lucien said in a harsh, guttural voice, “You have little choice. I am The Count.” He dropped the whip and gripped her legs. “Let me hear you say those words?” He stared into her almond-shaped brown eyes with a manic intensity, spreading her legs apart. He paused, his penis about to impale her. “Say it!�
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She laughed with derision.
Lucien was appalled at her reaction. In his own, timid voice he said, “I didn’t mean to ... I’m sorry, my Sweet Rose. Forgive me?”
The Count screamed his superiority in Lucien’s mind, “Take her now!”
She snorted with derision. “Oh very well, Lucien, if it pleases you that much ... I love you for eternity.” She laughed in his face.
Lucien snarled with anger. “I am The Count, you fucking bitch.” Tricked by a worthless female, he fell from her body and slapped her across the face. Her pain immediately stabbed his heart.
“What can you do about it, Lucien?” She glared into his brooding face. “I know you are hiding in there somewhere like a frightened little boy.”
“I am The Count!” Lucien screamed his rage and clamped her delicate neck in his strong hands. He squeezed. Her defiant look dared him to do something permanent. “I need your music, damn you bitch. I must have it!” He saw tears well up in black eyes and the faintest hint of her sweet lullaby, ancient and alluring soothed his rage. He released his grasp. The music drifted away. Her eyes faded to brown once more.
For a brief moment, Lucien reached out and touched her hair. He stroked away the tears flowing down her alabaster cheeks. “I ... I do love you, my sweet Delicate Rose.”
The moment the words were out of Lucien’s mouth The Count berated him for his weakness.
“Be a man! Show her what you’re made of!”
Lucien sprang from the bed and picked up his whip. He caressed it like his own penis, marveling at its power when used with proper intent.
Her pathetic sobbing irritated him. He whirled around and pierced her with an intense glare. Her immediate silence amused him.
Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance Page 19