Dark Thirst

by Angela Allen

  Sofia lived and hunted alone, but the woman fucked too much to be lonely. She went out and partied almost every night. One night I cruised behind her silver Beetle in my beat-up Ford and parked outside the club to watch and wait.

  Sometimes Sofia brought two or three folks home at once. I liked that because it meant more sex and less blood. It was also nice to know she had a weakness. She couldn’t take on more than one person at a time. Sofia’s guests only died if they entered her place by themselves.

  Last night Sofia went down on this little Asian guy with a huge joint, licking it like a Popsicle, and then opening her mouth wide until he disappeared inside. She worked that dick, sucking it, pulling on his balls until he arched and screamed in ecstasy, gobs of white gizm oozing out of her mouth. Then his screams changed and I saw the blood. Ouch.

  Best of all was a few weeks ago when three women did her at once. One was blonde, one black and the other Hispanic. My hands drifted downward as I remembered. I’d almost fallen out of the bushes, I had gotten so hot. I watched the blonde girl frantically rub her light pussy hairs against Sofia’s black crispness, cream oozing out of both of their pink crevices. The black girl’s tongue danced around one of Sofia’s hard, black nipples, and the Hispanic girl’s rosebud mouth worked on the other. Their fingers danced in and out of each other’s pink cunts, covered with juices while they licked and tongued on pussy round robin. Fish-o-rama buffet, sushi style. I came so hard I thought I was going to suffocate.

  I wasn’t her type if I went by the fine, fit and young folk she fucked. I was young enough, but that was the only qualification I met. So how was I supposed to get close enough to her to make her turn me into a goddamned vampire without killing me?

  I had lots of time for research because—Did I mention that I’d been fired? The late nights spying on the vampire next door jacked me up. I came into work late half the time and called in sick the rest. When I was there, I didn’t do that great either. I was tired, and sitting in front of a computer coding can be boring as hell. Fat, black chicks don’t get cut the slack white folks do. We can get away with being a little evil, but that’s about it. I’d seen white boys drag their asses for months on end when they went through some shit and get no more than a referral to the employee assistance program and some time off, usually paid. But after two weeks of my tripping over the vampire out of four years of near-perfect service, they told me to pack my shit and not to bother to show up the next day.

  I didn’t really give a fuck, because it gave me more time to concentrate on what really mattered. Pretty soon I wouldn’t need a job. I never heard of a nerdish vampire who coded computer software. Maybe a vampire with a glamorous career, like a supermodel or a rock star, but not a vamp doing some shitty software coding. What would be the point?

  I was still able to pay my rent and figured I had about six months’ living expenses. That would be more than enough time.

  Jelly tripped when I got fired, and rushed over to my apartment with some goddamn fruit. Can you believe it? Fruit! In times of angst, she used to have enough sense to break out the chocolate, at the very least. I moaned and groaned and whined and told her I needed space because I was depressed.

  Do you know what she said? She said she’d pray for me. Jelly is way off the deep end and she ain’t pulling me down with her. I’m getting what I’ve always deserved. For the first time in my life I’m going to be accepted and admired. I’m going to get me a life, even if I die trying.

  Nope, Jelly wouldn’t approve. Spooked by Sofia, she no longer came over to my place, but she used to corner me at work and go on and on about killing the vampire. Get this, I finally said to her, the vampire is already freaking dead.

  Then she went off on another tangent, bitching and moaning about evil.

  What’s evil? I asked. Did she really know? Is it evil to bomb children into bloody little bits for economic reasons and power? Is it evil to benefit the wealthy and screw the poor? Is it evil to ruin the earth for profit? A lot of these gray dickheads around here think that so-called evil shit is better than sex and chocolate. So what the fuck is evil? Let the cream rise, the strong prosper and the economy grow. Fuck all that whiny crap like caring for the downtrodden, helping the weak and protecting the poor. Grab all you got coming to you. Evil is relative, my fat girl Jelly, and I’m changing my politics.

  Jelly stared at me, eyes wide, and her sorry bleeding heart didn’t have a word to say.

  I was talking loud and those crackers at the company about had a stroke. The boss called me into his office and told me politics weren’t an appropriate subject for the job. That’s probably another reason they fired my ass so fast.

  Fuck Jelly. She’d regret not being there for me when I got the payoff and she was still a beached brown whale working her ass off in a sea of white folks who turned their noses up and eyes away when she passed.

  But Jelly would come to her senses once she saw how good I had it and then I’d help her get it too. But in the meantime, I needed to keep things on the down-low, so I avoided Jelly. I told her Sofia had moved and I was depressed and job hunting and needed some time to myself. I didn’t think she’d try to storm Sofia’s apartment with a wooden stake or something, but I didn’t need the complications of having to watch out for Jelly’s silly ass on top of everything else.

  Because the only way to get what I wanted was to use magic—dark magic. Once I admitted the shadows existed, I saw them more clearly. Vampires existed, and more. Much more.

  Magic was a science. A science of the mind that took skill and study. But I had the brains and I had the time. Most important, I had the will.

  I started practicing spell casting and disciplining my mind with meditation and other practices. I worked quickly through the disciplines. I fasted at least once a week to prepare my body and get in the proper frame of mind.

  Whoever said that fat chicks have no willpower had no clue. I hear skinny bitches whining and moaning about how they can’t do some easy shit all the time. Try to diet for months on end, bitches. Starve your naturally skinny asses. They can’t do it unless they’re off the deep end like those crazy anorectic freaks. I quit a pack-a-day habit in a week. That was nothing in comparison.

  Yeah, I had the will; all I needed to perfect was the way. My will was powerful enough to stay on the beet, bacon and orange-rind diet for a whole three days, so I knew it was powerful enough to enlist the assistance of something more powerful than me. Something more powerful than Sofia.

  That would be a demon.

  Demons were some scary sons of bitches, but for creatures that supposedly served the Lord of Chaos they sure seemed to have a lot of rules to follow. Like everything else, they were under the ultimate control of Order.

  I needed a demon of the big-daddy caliber to force Sofia to turn me into a vampire. But demons were touchy creatures. If you let him, he’d figuratively screw your ass. Technically, demons were “its” instead of “hes” since they got no real dicks, po’ things. Wanting to screw your ass was all they could do. There ain’t no fucking in hell. No eating, either. Shit, no wonder they had a rep for being grumpy. I’d be pissed too. I guess that’s why they call it hell.

  Some of the stuff I read seemed to make demon summoning easy. Rustle yourself up a denizen of hell in ten easy steps, some of these grimoires instructed.

  Wipe a little chalk on the floor, scribble some drawings, mutter a few words and maybe scatter a bit of incense and blood about, and that’s it, you get McDemon ready to carry out your every whim in twenty minutes or less.

  Also, supposedly if I drew a circle right, stood in it and did everything correct, I could summon up the biggest, baddest, mack-daddy demon and he wouldn’t fuck with me. After I summoned him, he’d run around doing errands until I decided to let him go.

  Ain’t that some bullshit?

  I was born and bred in the projects, a place where hell reigns on earth most of the time. I know a thing or two about badass motherfuckers. There ain’t e
nough chalk and words and silly rituals in the world to make a badass motherfucker not kill your ass if he can.

  You got to give him a reason not to do it. The best reason would be that he could use you to get what he wants. Bottom line, you better want what he wants or your ass is his. The demons I read about all seemed to be gaming folks, like a cat that plays with a mouse before it attacks.

  The magicians who wrote those demon-in-ten-

  steps grimoires were probably the usual run-of-the-

  mill arrogant, privileged white folks, disrespectful and delusional. In this day and age they got it like that. But once they start fooling with demons, I’d bet money that they ended up some unpleasantly dead white folks. Disrespect a badass motherfucker and pain will be all you have to look forward to between your next breath and your last. Demons are the baddest motherfuckers of them all.

  Did I mention the problem of payment? One rule is that everything had a price, and a demon’s price was high. If you want something from a badass, you don’t get to tell him what you’re going to pay. He gets to tell you what he wants.

  But I thought I could handle it. I had the will and I seriously doubt that the depths of hell could compare with the agonies of the Mayonnaise Clinic Diet that I stuck to for two whole months. A demon would quail before that fucking horror, pain and degradation. No, my problem was I couldn’t keep up the effort for months on end, so I needed to get this shit over with.

  I had to be certain to pick the right demon, a simpatico one with goals aligned with my own. Then I had to control myself well enough so as not to come under its control.

  The final key was making the effort worth its while. That wasn’t too difficult because I was going to give up my blood and my soul, hefty tender for any hellacious creature. The biggest payoff was Sofia, a tasty morsel of a vampire. It would be a win-win deal for the right demon. You know the saying: why not kill two birds with one stone?

  Action

  The demon was one jacked-up motherfucker. He had horns, wings and a tail and was in serious need of some attention to his feet. That son of a bitch’s feet seriously stank, with the longest, fungiest yellow nails you could imagine and gobs of black toe jam stuck between his toe cracks.

  He was naked, which didn’t help his overall appearance one bit. It did prove that I was wrong about demons not having dicks. His dick matched his crooked-up, scaly, little charcoal-gray body. His little dick must have not worked worth a fuck either, because he sure looked like an irritable asshole.

  “What do you want?” he roared, shaking my whole apartment, with crap flying off the walls and out of the cabinets. Pissed me off big-time, because I knew he wasn’t going to stick around and clean up any of the mess.

  But I do admit I admired his special effects and how he got to the point. So I got to the point also. “I want to be a vampire,” I answered.

  I think I surprised him. The shit whirling around in the air settled to the floor.

  “Vampire? Can’t do it,” he growled.

  I knew he was getting ready to split, and probably kill me as a side diversion, so I said quickly, “I need you to force Sofia to do it.”

  He paused. I could tell he was interested. I’d named her so I might as well have shone a spotlight on her and pointed her out on a map to him. But I needed to get him to act fast, before he got bored and decided to rip my guts out for fun. “Pain, death and spilled blood,” I said. It doesn’t do to be long-winded with a demon.

  He eased down on his haunches and I knew I had him. Bingo.

  Then I blinked and I was in Sofia’s apartment. That demon truly didn’t believe in conversation or wasting time. My stomach was in knots and I was freezing. I looked down. The SOB had stripped me naked! I started to protest, but the words faded when I saw the vampire. Sofia was headed for me, teeth bared, eyes blazing, not bothering to put on her façade of humanity. She was beautiful, but terrible. A predator. I about pissed myself. The concept of being undead and all was cool, but when actually faced with dying, well, let me tell you, if at that moment I could have changed my mind, I would have.

  I ran like hell, but that bitch was fast. She’d almost grabbed me when a gray whirling fog enveloped us and Sofia screamed.

  I would have screamed too if I could have breathed. It was like being squeezed by the wind. Cold damp wind. Quite unpleasant.

  “Sire her,” the demon’s voice rasped.

  “Noooo,” Sofia screamed.

  Then this nasty brown shit started seeping through her skin and leaking from her eyes. I took a second look and saw it was blood. Old, congealed, stinking blood. I couldn’t fully appreciate the smell, not being able to breathe too well and all, but the tiny whiff I got made demon’s feet smell like spring flowers.

  Sofia hit the floor, writhing, gasping and moaning. The demon giggled. “Sire her,” he repeated. He wasn’t one to be wordy.

  Sofia struggled to her feet and reached for me. Her bicuspids had grown long, snakelike fangs and her eyes matched—slitted and red. I tried to get away, but the solid winds were like heavy rope, crushing my body, holding me into place.

  And despite my terror, when she pressed her body against my naked skin, the heat of arousal rose from my pussy. She must have sensed it, because she thrust her fingers in my pussy as her fangs pierced my neck.

  The demon screeched with glee. Her fingers worked over and around my wet clit as she sucked my blood. My breath came in gasps, accompanied by pain, dizziness and the feeling of molten lava flowing through my veins.

  Sofia’s fingers were without mercy. My thighs opened as wide as they could go, my hips rotated. I was on the knife edge of pleasure and agony. Hurting, fearing and aching to come, but she wouldn’t let me. My world had narrowed to the beat of my heart, the throb of my pussy and her moving fingers. Nothing else mattered. My heart was fading, going fast and faint. Something like a light flared under my eyelids and I exploded, convulsing in agony and ecstasy. She rubbed my clit past the ecstasy to pain and I sobbed.

  With my cry, my mouth filled with fetid death, tepid, decaying, metallic. She’d opened her vein and filled my mouth with her blood. I could no longer choke, feeling the foul liquid run unchecked into my lungs and stomach. When she was finished, she let me drop to the floor.

  Blackness fell as I felt my heart flutter with the last dregs of my blood. I knew I was dying.

  Where was the demon? We had a bargain. Had he lied? They have a habit of that. Had I miscalculated? I whispered his true name in anguish. My last conscious human memory was the small sound of triumph that Sofia made.

  When I opened my eyes, I was on the floor of my own apartment. I lay there naked, like so much meat. There was no more pain. I tried to move and my body betrayed me. It no longer transmitted pleasure, pain or anything else. I can’t communicate the pure terror I experienced when I realized my chest no longer rose and fell with my respirations; my pulse no longer beat a familiar low rhythm in my ears.

  My body lay there like the dead thing it was, stinking and putrefying. I was a prisoner in my dead flesh. Maggots, juices, bloating, the works. You know, when someone tells you that you’re full of shit, they’re right? The shit worked through my guts first, then rotted the rest of my flesh. But you probably don’t want to hear about that. Most of you human motherfuckers are squeamish about the details, like your ass ain’t one hundred percent guaranteed to rot eventually. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to smell yourself. You better believe I was relieved when my olfactory sensors finally went.

  After about seven days, I must have hit critical rot, because the pain hit. Blazing fire, it was fucking excruciating. I couldn’t scream or move; I just had to lie there and fry. Shit, I thought maybe that demon had finally come and dragged my ass down to hell. I finally lost consciousness.

  When I came to, I tingled with sensation. I moved air in and out of what had to be newly grown lungs. I stood in a fluid motion and stared at the bones of my hands covered with familiar brown skin. I rushed to a fu
ll-length mirror. It was too good to be true. I had to be dreaming. Beyoncé and Halle Berry stand back, there’s a new bitch in town. My, oh my, I was fine. Better than I thought I’d be. I was as slim as I’d imagined. I ran my bony hands down my sides and felt my ribs. No tits, but I’d fix that within a week with some implants. I’d get my ass fixed up good too. That’s what all the real skinny bitches had to do. It wasn’t all bad, though. I had long, shapely legs, and I must have been all of a size six. Maybe even a four or a two. I was all bone and gristle, a white man’s dream girl.

  The hair was best. It had reverted to its natural dark brown color and kinky texture. But it had grown crazy long, flowing down my back almost to my waist. It was wonderful, a deep chocolate froth over my butter pecan skin. I’d need to braid it at night, but that would be it.

  I was hot, wild, everything I wanted to be. Exultation filled me. I’d done it! I’d pulled off the biggest damn project of all. It was the ultimate fucking diet.

  Then I noticed things looked different. The air looked like it moved, or things moved through it. I could perceive waves and thick mists. Nothing was clear anymore. Things blurred and flowed and shadows were everywhere.

  But screw things I could do nothing about. I was hungry as hell. And for the first time in my life I could eat whatever the fuck I wanted and not get fat.

  I picked up the phone and ordered two pizzas with the works, a Coke with the sugar in it and cinnamon rolls on the side.

  While I waited, I thought about calling Jelly. Where was she? It was strange that I hadn’t seen anything of her. More depressing was that I’d been dead all week and nobody even bothered to find my stinking ass.

  Granted, I’d been deep into my own project and had been avoiding Jelly. When I called her a while back, she’d mumbled something about working on something too. Probably another scheme to lose weight. She’d shit when she saw me.

  The doorbell rang and I rushed to the door, my mouth watering. The delivery boy wrinkled his nose when I pulled open the door. I must have gotten accustomed to the smell of my rotted flesh and forgotten to air out the house. I was going to have to replace the living room carpet. Rotting is hell on floors.