by T. S. Ryder
“I am not going to answer all your questions. I don’t have to.”
“You are messed up, you know that?” I say, frustration burning through me.
“Drugging and kidnapping girls is clearly considered noble in this house of bloodsuckers, but you are right, I am the one who is messed up.”
“Why are you making things difficult?” I ask, resigned but trying not to show it.
“Oh, you poor soul, is this all too difficult for you? Am I too much for you to handle?”
“I never said that. I am trying to be nice to you, but you are not making it easy for me.”
“So why are you whining? Who are things difficult for? Clearly, they aren’t for me.”
I bring my face close to hers so I’m staring straight into her eyes and am about to say something when she pulls me close and starts making out with me. After two seconds of confusion, I return her passionate kiss and we fall back onto the bed slowly. Our clothes fly off, but I take charge this time. This is my turn!
Turning her around, I kiss her on the back of her neck and massage her clitoris. Pushing my cock up her ass, we fall into a rhythm as I fuck her sideways. She pushes back on top of me, forcing me onto my back. I grab her legs and pull them up so her ass is in the air again, pull out my cock from her luscious ass and push inside her pussy. There’s a large mirror on the headboard and we can both see everything in detail. She clearly enjoys the view as my cock comes out of her pussy while her asshole is left gaping open. I switch between the holes and continue fucking her this way, and every time her body tenses and she gets closer to orgasm, I stop and pull out. I want to make her beg.
I don’t care who sees me now. I get off the bed while she’s lying on it, pull her legs off the bed and back into the air and push inside her again. Sex is amazing for vampires, especially because of the warmth of the humans. I turn her around so we are both standing on the floor, kneel a little and enter her pussy. Pushing her down, we kneel together as I pull her hair with one hand and grope her tits with the other while fucking her. We move in a rhythm, going faster and faster until she’s out of breath and begging me to slow down. I shoot a week’s worth of semen inside her and we crash on the bed.
Chapter Seven - Lola
Monday
He locked me in the basement in a pathetic attempt to show me he was the boss. He thought he could break me. He failed, miserably. I thought I wouldn’t fall for him, and I failed too. Right after getting locked in the Harem, I found out everything there was to find out — the girls like to talk. Most of them are vampires, and from among the humans only a fraction have been forced, but even they have grown to like it. The ones who get pregnant move to the other floors, live as humans or vampires — whatever they choose. I am not used to the attention, having never got any in my entire life, so it is strange for me to have a man be so interested in getting my attention, which is why I am withholding it. It was nothing one day and then it turned into something the next day, and when you have been deprived of something all your life, you try to hold on to it when you get that something. My experiences with men and dating haven’t gone so well in the past, so here I am trying to appear strong and powerful, while I am empty and hollow inside.
I like his touch, the way he holds me after drilling the life out of me. His hand is cupping my breast, and his arm is around me like I am his property. But I still feel like it is a fad, like he will soon be done with me, so I have to continue playing the game. He has already badgered me with questions, like why haven’t I left if I can? The truth is that I don’t know too much magic or spells, and even if I did, I don’t have the ingredients. In a fortress chock full of vampires, how can I leave without getting caught?
Suddenly I have this weird cramp, a warm feeling in my stomach. It must be the vampire food, I think, although I had only had human food and it was very normal.
“I don’t feel so well,” I tell him. He looks at me with his stone cold eyes, his mouth moving to form words, but nothing comes out. Clearly, he hasn’t dealt with sickness in however long he has been a vampire. A wave of nausea hits me and I get up to run to the bathroom, but I can’t make it. Kneeling on the floor of the Harem, I throw up. What comes out is mostly water, but the strange thing is the way the girls in the room look at me. I look up, embarrassed, sitting on the floor naked. They start talking among themselves as if discussing something important, then start nodding their heads. One of them smiles at me, then two others, and then almost all of them look gleeful. Valnoir comes with a bedspread and wraps it around me.
“Let’s go back upstairs,” he says. This is a kind gesture, free from his usual petulant behavior, and it feels like things are beginning to change at that moment. I don’t give him shit either. We saunter back upstairs to his room. He brings me food and drinks and then gets in bed with me. Even though I haven’t really done anything aside from having wild sex, I feel exhausted. We have sex again and then we just lie in bed, naked, our bodies intertwined. We don’t say much, just enjoy being together in each others’ arms. His hand runs around my body, fickly changing its attention from one part to another.
When morning comes, I sleep and he stays with me in bed. At least he is there when I go to sleep and is right beside me when I wake up. A week in the vampire house has me living by their hours, as the same hours were kept in the Harem downstairs. I wake up in the evening to the usual din of the place.
“Oh, you brought my clothes upstairs,” I say, seeing my clothes on the dresser.
“Yeah,” he says. “The girls at the Harem are saying the craziest things about you.”
I pull him closer and kiss him, then nuzzle up closer and bury my face in his neck. “What are they saying?”
“Well, they aren’t the brightest, but they seem to think you are pregnant. How ridiculous is that?”
“That’s hilarious,” I say with a laugh. “But we won’t have to wait too long to find out. My period starts in two or three days.”
“Yeah? Let’s see whether you get a period or an abortion.”
“Why would I get an abortion?” I ask, rather annoyed at the absurdity of the question.
“Err…because we didn’t plan a baby.”
There’s a knock on the door and then an old, glamorous woman enters without permission.
“Lady Mary,” he says. “What brings you to my room?”
I gather up the sheet to quickly cover myself. “Your father sent me to take her upstairs.”
“Whatever for?” he asks, incredulous.
“I am sure you already know what for,” she replies, then looks at me. “Come with me.”
“Give me a minute, I gotta dress up,” I tell her.
“I will wait outside the room,” she says, and leaves.
“What’s that all about?”
“I don’t know,” he says.
I get off the bed and start to get dressed. As I’m leaving, he says, “We aren’t done talking about this.”
“About what?”
“The improbable pregnancy.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say, and leave.
I join Lady Mary outside, and she asks me to follow her. We climb a single set of stairs and make our way through the lavish corridor to a room. She knocks and then opens the door herself, urging me to go inside. I follow her in. There is someone lying on the bed, her back toward us.
“She’s here,” Lady Mary announces.
The old lady turns around.
“Grandma?!”
Chapter Eight - Valnoir
5 Days Later - Sunday
Women these days are weird. People are also crazy, and even the vampires have gone nuts. They took Lola to the Wicce, who turned out to be Lola’s grandmother. How ridiculous is that! Lola might become the new Wicce for the Fort, my father announced, and now she’s busy learning from her grandmother. I have seen her only a handful of times since she left my bedroom, and aside from a polite greeting, I haven’t been able to get much out of her. She�
�s starving me for her pathetic attention, ignoring me purposefully as she walks about with an air of superiority and purpose. But I’m determined to settle things when I see her next.
“Viktor,” I call out, as I see my father.
“What?” he says, without looking back.
“What’s the deal with Lola? Why is she not talking to me?”
“However would I know?” he says, continuing on his way.
“Well, she was fine with me until you sent for her that day,” I say, catching up with him. “She hasn’t talked to me since then.”
“Grow up, Valnoir,” he says. “I don’t have time for his. Solve your own problems, and leave her alone while you’re at it. She has to learn a lot from the Wicce and we don’t have much time for a petty lovers’ spat.” He walks away.
Undeterred, I go to the Wicce’s room and knock. Lola opens the door.
“What?” she immediately says. “What do you want?”
“I just want to talk.”
“Then talk,” she says curtly.
“Not like this.”
“Oh, grow up,” she says.
“Lola, look, I am not going to be around and take your attitude and shit. You want to be left alone, say it and I’ll leave you be. But think about it before you give me an answer.”
“Who is it, Lola?” says the Wicce from behind her.
“Nobody,” she says back.
“I can hear him, bring him in.”
She moves aside without a word and I go inside. The Wicce is sitting in her bed, propped up with the help of two or three pillows, looking haggard and deathly pale — almost as pale as us.
“So, this is the man that has you all worked up?” she asks, looking at Lola.
“Leave it, grandma!”
“Well, have you told him?” she asks.
“No, and it’s not important. Just drop the subject.”
“He needs to know,” the Wicce says. “It’s his right.”
“What’s my right, what aren't you telling me?” I say.
“I think you should leave,” Lola says.
“Don’t mind her,” the Wicce says. “She isn’t herself.” I mouth a ‘thank you’ to her. “So, what’s this all about? She won’t tell me, so I have to ask you.”
“Beats me,” I say. “Before coming up to meet you she was completely fine. Then she flipped suddenly.”
“Oh yes, I see,” she says. Lola stands by the door with her arms crossed, staring at the wall.
“Tell me already,” I say, getting up.
“Patience, my dear,” Wicce says.
“Well, I am all out of it,” I say, and turn to leave.
“Well then, it’s a good thing she hasn’t told you. Off you go,” Wicce says, and I leave, slamming the door shut behind me. The grandmother is just as arrogant as the granddaughter. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Fuck Lola!
Chapter Nine - Lola
2 Weeks Later - Tuesday
I am not entirely sure what I have been doing, but whatever it is, I can’t stop now. In the beginning I didn’t like him, then I was playing hard to get, then things got out of control, and now I haven’t seen him since the day he came to see me in grandma’s room. If he hates me, I guess he has a reason to, but I had my own reasons for acting the way I did. I had a lot on my mind and he was the last person I wanted to see then — that was probably because I got to see him every now and again, and I didn’t realize how awful it would feel to not see him. But he didn’t come to get an answer from me and started ignoring me. I have tried talking to him but he speeds up and disappears whenever I see him. The Head of the Fort has asked me to be their next Wicce, to replace my grandma when she dies, and while I don’t really want to do it, it feels like an honor to take the place of my grandma. And so I have agreed.
On top of having to learn in days what takes years to learn, I have missed my period. I am probably pregnant. It is something that I really want, have wanted for a long time, but it comes at the cost of love, and I am not even sure whether he loves me or not. Was I just a passing fancy? At the same time, I can’t bring myself to take the pregnancy test. What if I am just sick and not pregnant? I don’t want to have to choose between Valnoir and my child. But he was pretty clear about not wanting to have children, so where does that leave me? At times like this, I want to go back to my mother’s house. Like they say, ‘Home is where mother is.’
“Grandma, I want to ask you something,” I say, after my lesson with her ends.
“Ask, my dear.”
“Why does mother hate me?”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Grandma says.
“We both know that’s not true. I don’t have a single happy memory with her. You were there, you have seen all that. Or is that not true?”
“All of that is true, but none of that means she hates you.”
“What does it mean then? I tried to be there for her when my father died, and she practically kicked me out of her house. She didn’t even invite me to the party she held to honor him.”
“It’s not that she hates you,” Grandma says. “It’s just that she doesn’t love you in the way you want.”
“Why? Because I’m a witch and she isn’t?”
“She’s got prophetic abilities—”
“But she hates me for it because she didn’t get to be a witch. Is that not true?”
“Lola, you surprise me. I could never have imagined that you would become this negative. Your mother hides her feelings for you because she doesn’t want to get hurt.”
“I have never done anything to hurt her—”
“Let me finish,” Grandma interrupts. “When you were born, your mother in all her motherly concern did a tarot reading to see your future. I was there when she did it. Nobody knows what she saw, but the moment she read those cards something in her shifted. She took one look and immediately pushed them back into the deck, and never spoke of what she saw. But I figure whatever it is that she saw, it wasn’t good.”
“So I’m doomed?”
“You’re not doomed, silly. I said what she saw wasn’t good. She may have misinterpreted the cards. The thing is that predicting the future isn’t a precise art. Look at it this way, somebody tells you that there’s a ‘stroke’ in your future. What would you think of it?”
“Maybe that I’ll get a heatstroke, I think.”
“Precisely. But it could also mean a stroke of good luck, or that you will have a baby.”
“Oh.”
“But your mother refused to tell me what she saw, and withdrew from you. It hit her hard, you know. She’s been hiding in her shell since then.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that she hasn’t been there for me. And she doesn’t let me get close to her.”
“It doesn’t. I’ll say it like it is. Mayumi May is an arrogant, conceited, vain woman. And she has been a bad mother.”
“Do you think I should try talking to her? I haven’t talked to her since father died.”
“There’s no point in trying, she has gone too far. Let her live her life the way she wants, but don’t let that stop you from having a good life of your own. You are a grown woman now, stop seeking her approval and love and make your own way. After all, you are going to be a mother soon.”
“We don’t know that for sure yet.”
“Yes, we do,” she says. “Look at the way you’re glowing. Don’t run from it, just embrace it. You are not your mother. And go tell that prince about it.”
That is all I needed to hear. I am not my mother. I won’t be like her.
“Thank you, grandma,” I say, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “This means a lot.”
I leave the Fort for the first time in weeks, ready to take the reins of my life. I head to the pharmacy first, get a pregnancy test and go back to my apartment. As I pee on the stick and wait for the results, I pray to the forces of nature: Please, please, please be positive. Please let me be pregnant. Please let me
be pregnant! Hoping for the best and preparing for the worst, I look at the stick. It is positive. I am pregnant!
I have to start a new chapter in my life. I go back to the hospital and hand in my resignation letter, then book an appointment for a scan. Having contacts in the hospital, it doesn’t take long. The doctor lifts my shirt and spreads the gel over my stomach, then points to the screen as he moves a scanner on my body.
“There’s your baby.”
“It’s so tiny,” I say.
“You won’t believe how fast they grow. Congratulations!”
“Is everything fine with it?”
“It’s too early and a number of things can go wrong, but so far everything looks perfect. You have nothing to worry about.”
Next stop is my mother’s place. The guard lets me in with a warning: “She isn’t in a good mood.”
“She never is,” I reply.
I find her perched on the same stainless steel sofa in the same posture. Everything about her looks the same, except her clothes and shoes.
“Mother, there is something I want to say to you.” She doesn’t reply, just looks at me, then nods lightly for me to go on.
“I am pregnant,” I tell her, and wait for her to respond. She doesn’t, just looks at me as if I haven’t said anything, as if I am not there at all. “And you know what, I won’t fail my child like you did. I won’t become you. I will be there for my child and I will be a good mother. I am not you.”
“And you came all the way here just to tell me this? Is it money you need?”
“No, I just wanted to tell you that you failed me to your face. You’ll never see me again.”
“What makes you think I would have wanted to see you again after all you have said to me?”
“One day when you are old and miserable, you will realize how wrong you were about everything. Those friends of yours will abandon you, and this money that you so love and all your fame, none of that will buy you the love of family. That’s when you’ll want to see me, and I won’t be there.”