Blood. It’s all around me. The scent invades my nostrils, filling me with an intense longing, but there’s so much more here. There it is. Just underneath the delicious undertone of copper is an acrid stench of decay. It’s like the sweetest of perfumes cut with the reek of rotted plants.
For a lesser being, this cacophony of scent would be too much. It would be a temptation far too sweet to pass up. The delicious tang as it peppers the air would call them to a blood lust so insatiable, they would rend any human limb from limb just to guzzle down their nectar. Glancing down, I stare at the lithe form before me, blood seeping out of her wounds.
Hair, limp and dirty, hang around her face like a decrepit curtain, just waiting for the slightest breeze to tear it down. She’s too far gone and lost copious amounts of blood. The only way to save her would be to turn her, and that is something that will never happen. There’s no spark of genius in her. Nothing that calls me to make her my own.
And why would I? Whore that she is? She was bought for just one purpose. Even though it’s not her fault she finds herself in such a state, it’s not mine either - not directly. Even if it were, why should a god take pity on a nothing like her? Tilting my head, I examine the body as it sways before me, trying to find something redeemable about her, something that would make me pause and take notice.
Her tits are exquisite. Though they’re now covered in gouges and puncture wounds, I can still see them for what they were. Natural too. I reach out, grabbing a handful of flesh, letting her stuttered moan float over my skin like a lover’s caress. Natural, just as I thought. But my club is full of great tits, and you don’t see me looking to turn any of them.
Leaning over, I slide my tongue up her neck. The flavor of her blood as it coats my tongue is electric. All her terror, all her pain spices her lifeforce, setting my brain buzzing. Nothing else matters at this moment. Though as delicious as she is, that’s still not worth saving her. Once she’s a vampire like me, she won’t feel the same fear, won’t ever taste like this again. Closing my eyes, I savor the flavor as it explodes in my mouth. Exquisite.
Soft whimpers ease from her throat, harsh and pained - the perfect backdrop for my dinner. Smiling, I pull back and grip her chin, forcing her gaze to mine. Her eyes, what used to be a brilliant blue, are now hazy, dull. It won’t be long now. There’s not enough blood in her to make a full meal anyway. What a waste. I’ll have to find someone else for dinner and hope they taste nearly as delicious.
Cool air eddies about my ankles as I study this human, watching her die. It stirs up the fetid smells from centuries of death and destruction, masking her scent for just a moment. Narrowing my eyes, I force myself to cut through the damp air to find her again. Ah. There it is. I drag the scent deep into my lungs as if taking a puff from the world’s most expensive cigar, holding it for as long as I desire before letting it back out to flutter the few strands not plastered to her head.
Given the circumstances, everything is as flawless as it can be - a fine vintage of blood, a silent, helpless dinner companion. Only one thing mars the perfection of this moment. The clank of chains pricks my ears, alerting me to the cause of all this destruction. Jerry. He struggles next to me, swaying in his bonds, his movements frantic, breaking the blessed silence with wailing and groaning. Such dramatics.
Where our guest is nearly empty, he, on the other hand, is full, almost bursting. The throb of his pulse skitters across my skin, driving an itch into my fangs as they descend even further. His moans and sobs continue to punctuate the silence, pulling my attention from the woman in front of me. “Wait your turn, blood bag.”
Skimming my fingers over her wan, cool face, I slide my index finger over the wound on her head, the blood sluggish there, barely moving. It wells up with each slow heartbeat, but even that becomes so minute that only with my enhanced senses can I still tell it’s pumping out of her.
Such a pity. With her body, she could have made us a fortune in our club. But no. Jerry had to do things his way. Acid slides down my body as I turn to spit on him, the saliva clinging to his hair for a brief moment before plummeting to the floor.
He stays silent, but of course he does. A rat always knows when a ship is sinking. He thinks by playing at being pliant and unobtrusive that it will somehow translate into mercy from me. Laughable. The pathetic thoughts that make humans feel safe. A smirk crosses my lips as I note the deep inhale before he holds his breath - as if playing dead will keep him alive.
Perhaps he finally realizes that he’s in the presence of a predator. Isn’t that what they teach their children? Play dead, and it will go away? That might work with a stupid animal, and though I’ve been called many things over the decades, that’s not one of them. His pitiful displays at becoming invisible are more annoying than they are amusing.
Humans are such stupid, fragile creatures. So easily broken. I look over again at the nameless girl, her body riddled with bites and scratches. At least the hunters didn’t follow Jerry here. That’s one point in his favor. Shaking my head, I cradle her face in my hands, bending low to kiss her forehead before tightening my grip.
I feel nothing for the human beneath me, but I can still mourn the loss of her blood and income. Bones grind over bones as I turn her head at an odd angle, and still, she stays motionless beneath me. Her eyes flutter for just a moment, opening wide to take me in. Lips, pale and cracked open, moving as if to say something, plead her case. But it’s far too late for that now.
Jerry saw to it that she never got the chance to live out her life in service to me and my kind. In a way, this is probably a mercy for her, but she still deserved better than this. She deserved pleasure as we drained her dry, not dying like a nobody in a frigid hell. With an efficient twist of my hands, her neck snaps like a twig beneath my fingers. In that instant, her life is snuffed out.
“Jerry, Jerry, Jerry. You did a very bad thing, didn’t you?”
His whimpers start up again, low whines drawing up from the pit of his stomach. Normally, I’d be delighted with the mournful cadence, but not tonight. “Please. Please. I didn’t know. I didn’t think -.”
“That’s right,” I snarl, snapping my fangs in front of his face. “You didn’t think.” The strong smell of ammonia reaches my nose, and I look down at the wet spot forming on his pants. “I’m not into watersports, but thank you for thinking of me.” His whimpers turn into mindless babbling, pleading, begging, all of it falling on deaf ears.
I circle him, pushing Jerry’s hanging form every so often to knock him off the balls of his feet. The joints in his shoulders are pulled tight as his grotesque form dangles, the skin taught and pallid, but the rest of him is bloated, engorged on lusts and narcissism. He wore his self-importance like a cape, flitting about my club as if he owned it, as if he could ever be just as important or better.
Part of him must have thought we would let him into our fold, make him one of us, but that just shows his delusion. He couldn’t control himself as a human; how the hell could he even hope to do so as a vampire? My lips turn up into a sneer, rubbing against the tip of my fang. I need to feed, but he won’t do.
I want a pleasant meal, not one bitter by the years of misuse. He’s like a pig strung up for the slaughter and just as bad for my health. Besides, I can’t be sure he hasn’t tainted himself, hoping to take me down with him. He was stupid enough to bring my enemies to my lair; no doubt he wanted to ensure success even in death.
Anger simmers under the surface as I turn my ears to the door. There’s no guarantee there aren’t more vampires lurking, waiting to take up my mantle. I should be in the club up above, mingling with the guests and playing with the merchandise. But no. I’m down here in this dank, underground room dealing with upstarts that want to depose me, all of them led here by the jerkoff that is Jerry.
“Why?” The word erupts into the silence, startling him. Jerry jerks at the sound of my voice, body bobbing about as his feet try to find a purchase that isn’t agonizing. He pauses in his shuffling, eyes frantically darting about. I close my eyes, taking in all the sounds. Nothing. It’s like a mausoleum. Any help he thinks is coming either isn’t coming or hasn’t made it yet.
Opening my eyes back up, I watch him for a few moments as he considers his life choices. His gaze is glassy as defeat starts to set in. His brain is catching up to what his heart already knows. It’s over. Lips trembling, he bows his head, his frame quivering in his grief. “Please. Please have mercy,” he whimpers.
Ahhh. So, we’re at the bargaining phase. I wonder if I can get him through all stages of grief before he meets his end. Looking down, I glance at my watch. No time to indulge in such foolish fantasies. This little litchnoya vstretcha has already gone on for far too long.
The longer I stay silent, the more sweat beads up on his forehead, trickling down until it slides over his chins. I don’t need to fill the silence with inane babbling. He’s sure to do that all on his own. A look of resignation crosses his face before he slumps forward.
“They - they told me it was better this way. They promised -.”
“Let me guess. They promised to turn you, didn’t they?” That was the one thing Jerry lacked. The one thing I refused to give him. The look on his face says it all. That’s exactly what they promised. I look down at the floor at the scattered remains of the vampires I walked in on, limbs scattered to every corner. I don’t envy the cleanup crew; I didn’t exactly make it easy on them. The fact that they had the audacity to come into my realm spoke volumes of their lack of intelligence. “What did you promise them in return?
He doesn’t speak. Instead, his whimpers start up again, the incessant whining that grates along my already raw nerves. Bending low, I squat down, careful to keep my pristine clothes away from the blood. These vampires were young, rash, bold in a way that only stupidity can be.
Gripping the head of the nearest vampire, I reach into his mouth and grasp his fang, wrenching it out of his mouth. The sickening sound of squelching and crunching fills the room, almost drowning out Jerry’s not-so-silent pleas. I turn my attention to the other fang, adding it to my growing collection. One by one, I make my rounds, grabbing up the fangs until my pocket bulges with them.
Even gods like to have trophies. Though they each suffered the true death, there’s still that thrilling satisfaction in knowing that even if there’s a beyond, they’ll face it unable to feed. Knowing those jackasses, they’ll still somehow find a way. Reaching into my pocket, I fondle the fangs, brushing my fingertips across the sharp points, pressing down until at the point of puncturing myself before pulling away.
Seven. Seven vampires infiltrated my lair, led in by a human too stupid to function. “Tell me, Jerry.” I turn my gaze back towards him, diving deep into his mind, taking hold. “I demand you to tell me.” As anticipated, not much is there. I slip into his consciousness with barely any effort. Pity. I was hoping for more of a challenge.
“I promised them girls. All the girls they could want. I-”
“Yes?”
“I promised them you.”
Tisking softly, I stride back over to his bloated form. It’s not his betrayal that surprises me - humans are so fickle. They strive for the bigger, better deal. What surprises me is that he actually thought he could get away with it.
“Have I ever told you how old I am?” I bring up my hands to inspect my nails, smirking as the tips glint in the dim lighting.
“N-no, sir.”
“Oh, so now it’s sir? Funny how being strung up finally gets me honorifics. I should perhaps do this with all my humans. Let them know from the very start not to fuck with me. Is that why you did it? Did I never show you my strength? I’m five hundred and sixty-two, by the way. At least for a few more weeks. And did you know that in my nearly six centuries of experience, I’ve never come across a human as stupid and useless as you?”
He slumps forward at my words, as if the utterances alone are hurting him. Pathetic. I run my nail across the side of his face - not hard enough to score - just enough to feel the rasp of flesh against me. “Why, Jerry?”
“They told me you were on your way out. You were ineffective. If I had any chance of making a good living, I’d need to pick a better side - a winning side.”
“I see, and how’s that working out for you?” He slumps again, and I resist the urge to laugh in his face. “All this destruction. All this chaos. All of it is your fault. That dead whore over there - your fault. I want to make it very clear that her death lies on your hands and yours alone.”
Craning his neck, he looks at her, still, serene, a smile gracing her lips even as she hangs there from cold, unfeeling chains. “She should be upstairs making me money and having the time of her life, but no. You lead her down here to make a deal. Did you not think there’d be consequences to her freaking out? Most vampires, especially the young ones, cannot contain themselves around the stench of fear. Their demons come out to play with just a whiff of acrid adrenaline.”
A smile curls up my lips as I circle him, noting every tense and straining muscle. “We are predators, a very primal sort. The hunt is what calls to us. After centuries, that’s what most of us live for. We thrive on the scent of fear, much like the scent you’re putting off. Difference is, I can control myself. That’s fantastic news for me, but not so much for you. This means I can most certainly play with my food.”
The widening of his eyes reveals the true depths of his terror as I stalk even closer. Forget the smell of piss; it’s the stench of fear that hugs his body like a second skin soon to slough off, as it should. Though I can be lenient in the right circumstances, nothing about what happened here tonight deserves anything less than pure agony. The vile aroma of his sweat as it pours from his body sets my gums to aching.
“Anything else you wish to say to me?” At the rapid shake of his head, I nod and grab the back of his head. “Open.” His jaw clenches up, tightening his face. He quivers under the strain of trying to fight me off, reject me from his mind. It’s a feeble attempt, but it’s there all the same. He’s too weak to fully break from my spell, yet another mark against him.
Humans really should try to use their brains for more than the next big score. It would serve them so much better in the long run. But then, if they started doing that, they wouldn’t be predictable. In increments, his mouth opens under my command. A smile crosses my lips as I use my other hand to secure his jaw so he can’t close it again.
I made the right decision to not feed from him. The smell of alcohol and bile rises from his throat as he breathes on me, turning my stomach in a way that hasn’t happened in decades. Fear and death flow off of him with each terrified dry heave. Fat tears roll down his face as he shakes his head.
With a wrench of my wrist, I pull his jaw to the side in a smooth motion, snapping it out of place, dislocating it with ease. The snap reverberates against my fingers, sending shivers through me. His howls of agony skitter down my spine, settling deep in my balls. I never feel more alive than when I’m causing pain to another, and this time is no different.
His jaw hangs a bit off to the side, leaving his mouth in a permanent gape. Inhuman screams pepper the air as the pain of my actions light up his brain. In vain, he tries to close his mouth, to put right what I put to chaos, but it doesn’t work. With the force I used, I wouldn’t be surprised if I actually broke it.
The moment he encounters any pain or resistance, he lets his mouth go slack again, giving him a more muted agony. His eyelids flutter a bit as his body decides if it wants to stay conscious with the pain or drift into painless oblivion.
After a few more moments, he loses the battle and goes limp in his chains. I let him. We’re only getting started after all, and I have all the time in the world. As he sways, I fire off several emails. I don’t typically like doing things as mundane as work during my torture sessions, but this little coup set me back in a bad way. I’ll be damned if I lose my standing over this little shit.
Jerry was supposed to man the annual Halloween cruise - the one event that provides us with amazing stock to replace those that are just too worn out to take the beatings my patrons require. More important than that is keeping up my image. No new stock, and I appear weak. Not that my standing won’t be questioned if news of this small rebellion gets out.
Fucker. Cruise ships aren’t my thing - never have been and never will be - but Jerry left me with no choice. My life is being turned upside down because of a stupid, insignificant human. It’s the added insult to injury. I expect other vampires to come for me and my position. It’s a dance we’ve had since I’d first come into power...but a human!
On principle, I drive the steel tip of my shoe into his ribs, holding back enough that I merely crack them instead of breaking them. Can’t have the blood bag dying before I give him permission. That would be far too lenient for someone like him - a human cockroach. Sighing, I send off one more email to Dimitri.
I don’t trust anyone, but he’s the closest. I’ll need him to manage the club and ferret out any other humans with balls bigger than brains. The fact that I even need help in this matter makes my fangs descend again, venom dripping from their razor-sharp points. Irritation flares in my gut as I craft my message, making it explicit that any suspects are to be detained and not killed. I don’t want him taking my fun from me. A soft groan pricks my ears, alerting me to Jerry’s consciousness.
“Good. We can continue.”
