by JN Moon
Nathaniel curled his lips up, his eyes twinkling as he spoke, “Anthony, this is Josephine”
Josephine cast her eyes over me looking at me sideways, not moving from her gorging, and raised her eyebrows in friendly acknowledgement. Blood was smeared around her mouth and dappled over her face.
“Hey,” I called to her.
The other vampire ignored us, too enwrapped in her ecstasy to care.
“So, we can drink vampire blood?” I managed to get out, still engrossed.
“Ah, Anthony, I would willingly share mine with you, if you'd like to try.”
I didn't answer him. I just kept staring at the women. The might of lust rose in me like waves in a storm, heavy and impending.
“So then, this is Tom,” he said leading me away by my arm.
“Good evening, Anthony.” As Tom stood up, finally putting his book down, I saw just how imposing and striking he was. He was six feet, naturally toned and muscular, and his black clothes hugged his stalwart figure. I wondered then, were all these people chosen to be vampires because of their striking looks, or maybe their looks improved with age? Was it all that blood?
His eyes were kind and deep—an old soul. He held out his hand. I shook it and his grip was firm and gracious.
“So, Anthony, welcome. Nathaniel said you wanted to know another way?”
Although Tom was amiable and welcoming, there was something about his presence. Something stilted I couldn’t put my finger on. I wondered how long he had been like this, whether the hunger lessens with time. Maybe immortality stretches out before you like a vast empty abyss. Knowing that you will just go on and on, and sensations become the same and so lessen with time.
“Anthony, are you ok?” Tom seemed amused at my vacant response.
“Sorry, yes. I do want to know another way. I don't want to kill, but I have no control. But...I was thinking. I was wondering...immortality...suddenly it feels so bleak, so endless.”
Nathaniel and Tom flashed a glance at each other. An unmistakable look of understanding of knowing what I had just said, and then they smiled a small grin.
“You have some insight to see all this so early,” Tom said quietly. “Nathaniel, you always find the most interesting and striking vampires. You really do have a knack.”
“Anthony,” Nathaniel said, talking close to my face. “Most don't realise this for decades.” And looking at Tom as if for support, he continued, “They're just content with screwing and killing. Leaving a trail of death and destruction. So much so in fact...” He hesitated, his brows knitted. “So much so that we are now being hunted.”
Nathaniel walked over to the table and gulped down the remaining blood from the glass. He gave a sigh of delight and licked his lips.
Before I could speak, Tom uttered, “We do know who is behind this. Oh, it's not humans if that's what you think. The paranormal world is bigger than you think, Anthony. There is much, much more out there.” He gestured to the window. “But we can teach you not to kill. We can show you new erotic delights, and show you the best...people to feed on. These people will give you no concern for their well-being. For they deserve no concern, and frankly we are doing human society a service.”
Then Tom asked me, “So, you've never fed on vampire blood, huh?”
And with that last sentence, the conversation felt lighter.
“Uh, no. No, I haven't.”
So here I am, one year on. The first month was the hardest. I had felt so alone before I met Nathaniel. Filled with rage but the loneliness, the loneliness was palpable. It made me feel malicious. Even with my new-found friends, emptiness grew inside me. I missed my human family, my Rachel, my friends. I couldn’t be with them, aside from the fact that I may hurt them. Uncontrollably, they had recoiled in my presence, sensing on a deep level my dark power. And so they should. But that fact, that knowing made me angry that my life had been stolen.
I toyed with my victims, played with them, fed on them. They suffered because of my anger. They were the lowest of the low, and I took pleasure in inflicting suffering on them as they had on their victims. I left them a shell of the former person they once were, unable to communicate properly, unable to cause harm to another living being, barely functioning at all. This was my sole pleasure. And it left me hollow.
I met a few vampires. That's the funny thing; as a vampire, I started to notice other vampires whilst before I would never have known. Most of them are truly solitary, suspicious, and quite vicious.
Josephine and Tom are two vampires that became my friends, although vampire friendships are not quite the same as human friendships. Never cross a vampire. And trust? Well, trust is not something that vampires find easy.
They taught me how to hunt, about only taking if possible from evil people. Many young vampires follow this whilst our conscience allows. Evidently the older you get and maybe after seeing all your loved ones and family die of old age, your conscience matters less. Maybe it's the isolation from society?
I don't know where Nathaniel went. He said he had to leave for a while and that he regretted leaving me. I missed him. I knew his thoughts for me were based on desire.
Anything more I didn't know and as such, mine for him were not. But he was familiar to me. I felt safer with him. Kindred spirits joined in darkness.
As for Josephine and Tom, we met up nightly. They helped me maintain the necessities like keeping my flat, having money. I couldn't easily pop into work. Although I had my own business, I had to contact others to manage this, in case I accidentally drain someone. The realisation of that thought alone kept me away from those I cared for. They also taught me about the Elite, and the research that they had heard about.
The Elite were the self-proclaimed vampire nobility who were apparently researching vampires. Specifically, what pinpoints the changes in the genetics that alter a human from that of a vampire. There were stories about how the Elite were testing this on the lower order of vampires. Altering their genes, testing to get rid of the vampire disease on those they deem unworthy of immortality.
I thought this sounded great. I could, in theory, become human again. But their stories are the dire consequences of this genetic tampering on the lower legions of vampires, making them neither vampire nor human but something in-between. Unable to feed on blood or food, most die slowly of starvation whilst they go insane. And here the urban myths thrive. We have to be alert if it's true. Death is slow, agonising, and torturous. But it sounded like fantasy, conspiracy theory run wild. Vampires have a taste for drama, too, it seems.
Enchanted
Anthony
Josephine looked stunning. Her long, curly hair amplified her iridescent skin. Her outfit; how did she do it? So sexy yet so modest, her black dress fitted and flaring out to her knees. She was a bit of a closet Goth so always added a twist, her knee-length lace-up boots giving her an edge. Of course, she was the bait for our nightly discourse, and she knew how to work her figure.
Tom and I also made an effort. Being a vampire, one feels compelled to live up to the image, and we so enjoy the hunt that dressing up seems very appropriate. Tom often wears a hat, and always has a sense of dashing elegance about him. Although he looks a bit scruffy, he is immaculate in his grooming. Except for his hair which is shoulder length and quite messy. His scruffy style designed to look effortless.
I wore black jeans, boots, and my faithful reefer jacket with a black shirt. I often wear very cool shades, even at night because I can see so well with them, my vampire vision being so heightened. But mainly because yes, it looks cool.
We mainly hunted in Bath's Royal Victoria Park and as it sounds, a grand park full of Neo-classical statues. On entering the park, there is a large stone gateway. On top of each pillar stands life-sized stone lions, majestic and beautiful. It dates back to a time of opulence and splendour.
Where we hunt is not far from this side entrance, on a green surrounded behind by trees and flowers. In front of the green, in the distance, stands t
he most lavish Georgian terraced buildings set in a crescent shape. Another wonder of the city which grabbed at my fascination more, now that I was a vampire.
For us, with views of the Royal Crescent behind us, amongst the trees of the park, we felt like the actors who perform Shakespeare there during the summer months. This was our stage, with the Royal Crescent our backdrop and the green, our stage. However, our tale was much darker, more sinister, and fatal. Trembling, excitement ran through me in anticipation.
Josephine acted demurely walking through the park. How could a villain not be enticed to her?
She was enchanting and it was not long before she attracted the attention of a would-be rapist. She played them. She played them all. A look of fear on her face, of panic and the trap was set. As the villain took hold of her and she allowed him a few seconds to believe, well, whatever it was he wanted to believe.
Then she struck. Her face contorted, revealing her fangs. With vampires, expressions are everything and exaggerated. Trembling violently, his face now ashen, she grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up in all her glorious rage, as she held him there, locking eyes, and snarling.
We stole the moment where he spotted her fangs and caught his smell of sweat as shock and fear embraced him.
Slowly lowering him to the ground her grip firm - there would be no enchantment for this hapless victim, just pure terror. Tilting his head to the side, she bit into his jugular.
Tom and I sprung in like lions ready for the kill. We each drank from his wrists. It was spectacular. Crucifixion by vampires, his arms outstretched as we drank and drank and drank. Under the dark silhouettes of the trees and the slip of the moon, with the grandeur of the Royal Crescent behind us like a theatrical backdrop. We didn't stop; not that night.
We knew it was forbidden, but immortality holds no bounds and sometimes we needed the fear of breaking the rules. We hadn't even buried the body when the bloodlust took over. It was the first time I experienced such an intense bloodlust, that somewhere the lines blurred between my own sexuality. Passion and blood raged inside me, Josephine grabbed me, spun me around and thrust me against a tree, our hearts pounding fast and both of us trembling. Her scent filled my being. Intoxicating me. I had never had a vampire before and it was so extreme. I felt animalistic, powerful, and ardent. She was passionate, strong, and forceful. She pulled me into her again and again.
Tom came up behind me and started to run his fingers through my hair, kissing and caressing me, all three of us bloody, violent, and sexual. The taste of blood flowing from her mouth into mine was so hedonistic, barbaric, ecstasy. It was so wrong, which was what made it so exciting, so captivating. I thought my head would explode any second. I'll never remember everything fully in that passionate frenzy. I was too indulged, too absorbed, so wild, so uninhibited.
Blood. We are everybody and nobody once it is in our veins.
Eventually, we found ourselves and sat under the tree satiated from blood, sex, and murder. We slumped against one another laughing, still mesmerised. At that moment, I felt invincible. They made me feel so alive, so sensual, and so out of control.
In my heightened haze, I wondered if this was why Tom and Josephine had chosen me. Had they done this before? I thought so, but what happened to the previous third party? One thing was certain; we wouldn't be making another kill that night.
But then I didn't care. My body ached in pleasure and I didn't have a care in the world, and I suffered no conscience for the victim. Not then at least.
That was the first of many nights where I found my sexuality blurred, twisted, and full of bloodlust and brutality.
I am different; my world looks, feels, smells, and tastes different.
This started to be a regular occurrence. We would lure our prey, feed in terrifying glory, and satiate our every desire. We were ever more uncompromising, both with our prey and with ourselves.
After a while, we decided we needed a change of location for our nightly impiety, so we started hitting the nightclubs where we could pick up potential victims. It became the norm for us to pick up a man and a woman, all three of us sharing their blood. We sedated them with our kiss of blood and involved them in our debauched acts of sexual hedonism.
Sometimes I would drink them all, other times just the women. It was simple; men and women were all drawn to us. Just as Nathaniel had said.
We didn't always intend to be aggressive. We’re so strong, and the blood excited us to the extent where we lost the ability to act with much restraint.
For our pleasure, we exercised no control, but to follow our every whim, every desire in our true nature of vampires. In turn, we became more ruthless, more lost and without any hope of future salvation.
If I had only realised how completely remorseful I would become. How many innocent people would fall victim to our debauched terror. Well, maybe I was in too deep to stop. Like a junkie, looking for his next fix, I wanted more and more people. To drink their blood and act out every wicked fantasy my twisted mind could conjure up. I had not known my mind could be so corrupt. Maybe that darkness lives in each of us, waiting for its chance to erupt into our existence.
We—I was out of control and attracting the attention of the worst kind.
The people? Well, as I said we paralysed them with our esoteric venom. We did not always kill them and to our credit, we tried to only pick those with evil minds. However, the temptation to take and have those of a moral disposition was too great, sometimes. Just as Nathaniel had said—striking, interesting, alluring.
The ones who survived were no doubt left traumatised. Sometimes we did our best to help them, even take them home. They had no complete recollection of what had occurred, but flashes of insight of what had happened to them. They always wanted sex, after all, they could not resist us, but the nature of it and that of the blood drinking, well, that was ours for the taking. Which was how we justified it.
In clubs, as we approached our potential victims, we felt the angry and curious stares of other vampires. It seemed that we were making a reputation for ourselves and several times during our debauched encounters, I was aware that other vampires watched us.
Yet, for a time, not one of them approached us directly. After that whilst we were out surveying our latest muse, a tall lean-built vampire called Adam approached us.
Adam wore all black, his clothes hugging his lithe figure, topped off with a jaw-dropping black military coat.
“You're all heading for disaster,” he told us in no uncertain terms. “Many others are watching you. You're flying too close to the ground...and I want to join you.” He flashed a smile at me.
Who were we to judge? To be honest we could not resist him.
His charm, his sculpted face with a close-cropped blonde beard, his blue-grey eyes, and straight blond hair. Beautiful. We wanted him. And he, it seemed, wanted us.
That first night with Adam was incredible. The look of wonder in his eyes, excitement, exceeding his expectations. We decided to take him back to the park; to relive our first encounters with evildoers. Josephine acted as the bait. The damsel in distress.
Adam willingly drank from the victim's wrist and he and Tom shared the blood, stopping only to pass the blood to each other from their mouths. I trembled at the ensuing lust.
He took Josephine, ripping her clothes from her like a ravaged animal, and they bit and fed on each other in the throes of desire. Blood spilled from their mouths, flowing, glistening.
Adam looked flushed and glowing, basking in the delirium of sexual hedonism and blood frenzy. And so, he stayed with us for a while.
Slowly, a few more approached us to join our debauched and fiendish games. If we wanted them, we would let them join for a while and if we didn't, we wouldn't. We were decadent, narcissistic, and ruthless.
We became blasé about it all. We chose our muses unless we went to the park to get rid of the trash that hung around there.
Sometimes, we did both. I experienced so much with so ma
ny. Treading the fine line of fear and pleasure. I was absorbed, captivated by my own rush of emotions. I didn't want it to end. But it had to.
Josephine was the first to quit. Maybe she got bored, or being around three men along with the other hangers-on was too much for her. She grew restless and dragged down by it all.
She simply left one night and Tom was beside himself. I didn't want to be without her either, but I knew deep down it was time for me to get some space.
I couldn't imagine being without Tom, and I agonised over the decision of whether or not to follow him. I made the choice and it was hard. I wanted to carry on our misdemeanours, like a boy who never wants to grow up. But I knew this wouldn't go on forever. Even as a vampire, I could not go on indefinitely. So, I chose to go it alone for a while.
Tom went off searching for Josephine, Adam hot on his tail. I would have to catch up with them later.
Endless Night
Anthony
I needed to come up for air. I couldn't possibly continue like the debauched creature I had become. Who the hell was I? Not Dorian Gray; that’s for sure.
I'd wander around at night, still taking who-ever I wanted. It was like a new experience to me. On my own, I only felt drawn to women and I was careful not to kill them. I grew restless and a little bored with humans. They were so fragile, so predictable. Even as a human I'd never been interested in being ordinary.
There's more to life than that. Most humans I came into contact with had no spirit. No soul.
I needed another vampire, someone I didn't have to hold back with. Someone who saw the world from a different perspective. Someone to theorise with. Philosophise with. It struck me that I had been like a wild, out of control teenager on drugs, the way I acted. Vampire emotions wield so strong, like the forcefulness of nature herself.
But now, now I had time to think, to reflect. To remember who I was before this hunger infected me.
The memories of all my victims, my muses haunted me now. I’d never felt bad about taking the life of a murderer or a rapist, but I had seriously damaged innocent people, to the point where I knew they'd suffer psychological damage.