Beyond Nocturne Ch. 07

"This is optimistic," Michael said in between kisses.

"This is going to sound clichéd," Lydia smiled against his lips as she rubbed his swollen head with her thumb, "But you have such a nice, thick cock."

"Suddenly we're in a porn flick," Michael laughed as she straddled him.

Lydia sat up as Michael continued to massage her breasts. She began to work her hips back forth, her slit opening and lubing up his cock with her juices. She eyed him, "You like it when I talk dirty?"

"Oh yeah," he nodded, "Vampire sex talk is a big turn on for me."

Lydia smiled. "Well I don't mind talking dirty... as long as it makes your big, fat cock hard enough to fill up my cunt and make me scream."

"Oh my God," Michael laughed, "That was terrible."

"So maybe I'm no good at it," she chuckled, "But what I can't say I can always show you."

"You have a beautiful smile," he said suddenly.

"You don't have to lie, you got me already," she rolled her eyes.

"No lie," Michael said seriously, "You don't smile enough."

Lydia shrugged. "Haven't had much to reason to in the last three hundred years."

Michael felt such a rush of love for her that it almost overwhelmed him as he took her in, memorized every detail. Her thick auburn hair had fallen to her pale shoulders in heavy strokes. In the dim light, he could see the curved outline of her body, the flat smooth expanse of her stomach and the pronounced fullness of her breasts. Her eyes were like a cats, and if it had been other situation Michael might have been frightened by their reflective properties. Instead, what should have been unnerving was strangely alluring, even comforting as the smile on her full rosy lips spread wide.

"What are you looking at?" she rubbed her pussy back and forth on his shaft. She felt a need for him building up inside, and she was ecstatic that the thirst has no part of it. The discovery that she could control the thirst enough to be with Michael had been an epiphany for her. Though she could sense the blood running though his muscular body like a normal person can smell an irresistible meal, she was not tempted to bite him. It was as if though the thirst had been blanketed by the power of her love for him, her need for him.

"I love you very much," he said, "No matter what."

Every time he said it, Lydia felt that much closer to being human again. "I love you too," the words rolled off her tongue. They still felt alien somehow, like they were words that she had never been meant to say anyone. But she knew deep down that they were her words, and that she had earned them. More importantly, they were words that held the essence of her relationship with Michael, and they acted as ties, binding them together as perfectly and spiritually as the act of making love.

Michael's cock slid into her with an ease and grace that they had become so used to in the last month that it had become second nature. His long, thick cock filled her up completely, always slightly stretching her out and making her shiver. Her thighs tensed around his waist as he slid in to the hilt. She put her arms over her head and closed her eyes as she began working herself up and down on his shaft, relishing the thick passing of his head with each thrust. Her nipples became hard and erect under his fingertips as she licked her lips. She could feel his mind, solely focused on her and pleasuring her. She opened herself to him and they joined together physically and mentally, becoming for a brief moment one whole person.

Lydia gasped a little as they picked up their speed and rhythm, slow and sensual at first, their quiet moans and groans the prelude to the storm to come. Michael watched the muscles in her stomach flex and release, her hips working and the hypnotic motion of her pussy sliding up and down on his cock. The heat from within was incredible as she rode him, her pussy squeezing and contracting around his shaft as they picked up speed. Michael released her breasts, allowing them to swing free and bounce with the power of their thrusts. He grasped her hips and tried to concentrate on making every movement count. Lydia's hand came down and her fingers found their way to her clit, swollen and hard. She began rubbing it furiously as they worked towards the climax.

"Yes," she whispered, her head thrown back in ecstasy, the cords in her neck bulging out as she moaned. Her hair bounced behind her, mimicking the same vigorous motions of her breasts.

Michael slid his hand up her stomach, over her breasts and to her neck, then back down over her shoulders and arms. Lydia was huffing now, breathless and lustily moaning out loud. She began humping him faster and faster. She locked her fingers with his and pinned him to the bed, doing her best to rub her clit against him. Michael's teeth were bared as he fought off the orgasm now building up inside him. His cock was tingling and going to the extra-rigid state were he was certain he could have balanced a station wagon on it without hurting himself. He was dimly aware that he was sweating as she leaned forward to kiss him.

"You're going to make me cum," she hissed in ear, her breasts rubbing against his chest, "OH God make me cum..."

***

In the room next to them, Maricel lay on her bed, her hands covering her crotch protectively. The sexual Olympics in the room just beyond the wall were something she had grown used to, even envious of during her stay here. Michael was indeed as attractive man, and she could see why Lydia was so taken with him. He was also very determined or very stupid in her opinion. Every time she was around him, Maricel could sense his devotion to Lydia, his unusually strong attachment to her. Did he know that Lydia was never going to be able to be with him the way he, no the way they both wanted?

Maricel shifted, her hands trembling over her violated crotch, still aching from the abuse at the hands of Steven Wolverton. Or rather, the creature Steven had become. The creature had violated her the way she had violated Tiffany and Missy. In a way, it was poetic justice, she thought. Of course, in accepting that chain events for the truth she had to acknowledge that Steven had been violated by Lydia first. It was she who had started the chain reaction leading them here, to a place of being outcast from everything she had ever known.

Did Michael realize that Lydia, no matter what her intentions may have been, was indeed a villain?

"But that's not fair," Maricel whispered to herself, "Because she saved me from being raped and killed..."

"Did she?" she answered herself, a frown crossing her face. She thought back to the night she had met Lydia, just as Larry Crispin had been ready to finish her off. Larry had been just another job, one more paycheck to round out her nest egg. She had planned on fucking him, even though the thought of it repulsed her. But he was paying serious cash for a night with her, and for the five thousand he handed her, she would have done him and a friend together. In the end, it had all backfired.

Larry had tried to kill her, and it was only Lydia's arrival that had saved her. Larry had infected her with HIV, a virus he didn't even know he had, and her only hope had been to let Lydia bite her, let the vampiric virus destroy the HIV.

"Wait," Maricel sat up, a cold sweat breaking out all over her body. She remembered suddenly sucking Larry's pathetically small cock, faking every moan and exalting growl of desire as she gagged on his acidic member. She felt tears in her eyes as she thought of his revolting load of semen pumping into her mouth. But then, a memory she had buried suddenly birthed itself in front of her. It had been hidden so deep not even Lydia had been able to sense it.

"He fucked me," Maricel choked as panic began winding up inside her, twisting to a breaking point in her chest.

After he came, she had wanted to get things over as quickly as possible. Somehow, that asshole had been able to get hard again and Maricel remembered how she had laid down on the bed and he had entered her. It was only for a few moments, because he got the idea to tie her up and pulled out.

"But there was semen still on his dick," she realized.

Larry had tied her up and that was when Lydia had busted through the window, arriving like some dark super-hero from a gritty Frank Miller comic.

"No," she hissed, tears streaming down her face as she remembered the creature suddenly, it's python–like penis entering her and tearing her apart. The rape was just as horrible in remembrance as in the moment, and she began gasping for air as the sensations came flooding back. She could feel it in her head, it's black angry thoughts and hateful spirit, and it's pain and hurt. She tried to call out for Lydia, the headboard in the next room banging loudly against the wall.

"No no no no," she managed, her voice strained and high-pitched as she tried to move. A sharp pain suddenly registered from her midsection.

She had been pregnant from Larry Crispin, and when the creature had raped her, it had tainted the fertilized egg within. She was carrying the offspring of an otherworldly evil conception, that of a killer and of a monster that had no place in God's creation.

The pain seared through her again and she felt something move inside her, suddenly pushing against her uterus. Maricel's eyes were wide and bulging, her mouth gaping open as she tried to register the burning pain coursing through her body. She put her hands to her stomach and felt a bulge there, small and yet growing steadily. It was if the act of remembering the moment of conception had triggered a growth inside her.

In the back of her mind she could sense something, or rather multiple somethings. They were simple, like random thoughts powerfully coming to fruition. She envisioned these new developments as balloons, slowly growing in her mind and belly, each one unique and separate from the other. She could feel their thoughts, their confusion and their thirst. She knew in that moment that she was not going to spawn one child, but many. They were beginning to grow and expand. Soon, there would be no more room, and they would birth themselves from her.

"Lydia..." she whispered, her hand reaching for the door as she fell off the bed.

Her head bounced painfully off the wooden floor. As her eyes cleared of stars, she began to realize why the bastard children inside had suddenly woken up. A cold presence washed over her like a shadow, causing her mouth to go dry and her nipples stone cold. It was familiar and frigid, like a raging, icy black fire in her mind. It was here. The father of her children was here to claim what was his and to take his vengeance. She wasn't sure how far away he was, but he would be here soon.

Maricel gritted her teeth and crawled to the door.

***

"Wait!" Lydia shouted in the middle of an unbelievably good thrust on her lover's cock. She looked off into space for a moment, her hair slicked to her face in sweat from their vigorous sex. Michael found himself frozen, the fear from Lydia arching through him like lightning. He could feel what she was feeling.

"What is that?" he asked, unsure of the black cloud growing in his mind.

"It's him," Lydia whispered, "Steven is here."

"What?" Michael hissed.

Lydia quickly dismounted him and went for her clothes. "It's him Michael."

"Fuck!" Michael jumped up and started dressing. "How the hell did he get here so fast?"

"Not sure," she shook her head as she slipped her black boots on, tucking the legs of her black leather pants inside, "But he's really pissed."

Michael pulled on his khaki's and t-shirt, hurried to the dresser and yanked the drawer out. The clothes spilled to the floor and he found his shoulder holster and gun. All their guns had been loaded with silver bullets, coated with garlic. He fastened the holster and looked to Lydia, who was already dressed and preparing her long, twin blades. He asked, "You're sure these bullets will work?"

"As much as they can," she said, sliding the blades into her hip mounted sheath, "Vampires have severe allergic reactions to silver and garlic. Not deadly, but enough to make one think twice."

"What about you?"

"I'll live," she said flatly as Michael laced up his steel-toed boots.

"I'll get Maricel," Michael whispered and went for the door when a tremendous crash in the living room made him stop. Through the door, they could here something thrashing around, overturning furniture and shattering glass. Michael heard the television blow out and explode. They stood there, frozen for a moment, listening as the creature went on its tirade through the living room. Something heavy slammed into the hallway, ricocheting off the walls and splintering near their bedroom door.

Lydia reached out with her mind to Maricel, but could not find her. It was as if Maricel has disconnected herself from her somehow. Lydia called out to her, and only found silence in response. Was she dead? Lydia didn't want to believe it, but it was unlikely that Maricel could block her out like that.

Michael went to the closet and opened the door. From behind his clothes he pulled an Uzi out, equipped with a large magazine and silencer. He tossed it to Lydia and reached in again, pulling out another identical Uzi. They flipped the safeties off and prepared for the inevitable, frozen in place and patiently waiting for Steven to break the door down.

It went silent outside the door, and only the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard, causing the floorboards to creak. A deep, feral growl resonated throughout the cabin, more the sound of a lion or some other great predator on the hunt. Michael felt a cold bead of sweat trickling down his back as he steeled himself. Lydia could feel him preparing, and took comfort in him being there. For so long she had faced the dangers of her life alone, and she had come to believe that for her there was no other way. But with Michael here, she now knew that she could never go back to that way of life. She had a partner now, a partner who would stay with her until the end.

Despite herself, Lydia smiled.

Outside the door, massive claws dug into the walls and pulled. The wood ripped away from the nails that held it in place and splintered with loud *pops* and *cracks*!

"In case we die here tonight," Lydia said softly, her hand steady, finger poised on the trigger, "I love you very much."

Michael's eyes never left the door, and yet he somehow looked at her. "I love you too."

"Thank you Michael. For everything."

There was an ear-piercing scratch at the door, one final heavy footstep and then all was quiet. They stood silently in the dark, their guns drawn and trained on the door, waiting for any sign of what was to come. The cords on Michael's arms were flexed, pulled tight, every muscle in his body brought to attention as he focused all his experience, all his training and all his will on the task at hand.

He prayed hard.

The door blew in, literally exploding in a shower of splinters and broken wood. The creature came through the doorway, unafraid and angry, it's eyes burning red and claws unsheathed. Its pale, mottled skin was stained with blood, its hungry maw open and teeth brought to bear. It bellowed a sound so loud and powerful Michael felt his ears pop. He squeezed the trigger and let the gun do what it did best. He could barely think, let alone hear anything over the creature's howls as the silencer equipped Uzi unloaded it's rounds into the creature's alien anatomy.

"I'm sorry Steven!" he cried, aiming for its head, "God forgive me!"

The creature was gone suddenly, simply vanished from view. Michael stopped firing and looked at the smoking ruins of his doorway and the hall. Debris littered the bedroom, along with gobs of sticky black fluid and chunks of pasty flesh. Lydia walked towards the door, her gun held at ready. She cautiously approached, motioning for Michael to follow. It was strangely silent as Michael's ears tried to adjust. He worked his jaw, hoping to pop his ears again back to normal.

"Holy shit," he whispered, kneeling down and touching the thick pools of ichor spattered on the floor. "This shit feels like motor oil... smells like dead fish."

He wiped the fluid off on his pants and stood up again. They moved into the hallway. Lydia could see past the shadows, her eyes enhanced by the virus in a way Michael's never could be. It was her biological night vision, and through this she saw the trail of blood leading back to the living room. She could also sense the creature; it's pain and hate. Michael had wounded it, but the bullets weren't affecting it like they should have. It was still in the house somewhere, and it was waiting for her.

'Lydia,' a voice croaked in her mind, loud and rasping.

Lydia froze. 'Stephen,' she thought back cautiously.

'What...' the creature thought with great effort, fighting against the mutation that had warped its mind along with its body, '... what have you done to me?'

'I'm so sorry, Steven,' she thought softly, tears in her eyes.

'Kill you.'

'Please Steven, spare your brother and Maricel.'

'Kill... you... all."

'Steven please, your brother loves you...'

The creature was quiet for a moment.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked, his hand on her arm.

"Nothing," Lydia quieted him with her other hand and thought to the creature, 'Take me... I'm the one you want...'

'Loved... you.'

"Lydia," Michael warned, "Don't do anything stupid."

Michael looked into the shadows of his cabin, trying to see it.

'Kill you,' the creature hissed in her mind, and she felt it moving again.

'Please Steven...'

'You hurt me..." it reasoned, 'Now... I'll hurt... you."

"Get ready," she whispered to Michael. He was about to speak when from out of the shadows the creature sprang forward as if though shot from a cannon. It tackled Michael, both of them rolling into Maricel's bedroom, crashing through the door and onto the bed. Michael's gun fired several times, taking the creature three times in the arm and them splintering the ceiling. Lydia fell backwards onto her ass as it kicked her hard in the stomach mid flight. She rebounded immediately charged into the room, looking for a good shot. Only the way Michael and his brother were fighting there was no good shot.

Lydia threw her gun to the floor and reached for her blades.

"Steven no!" Michael screamed as the creature that had once been his brother raised its powerful, muscular arm high in the air. Its claws were dripping, hooked and lethal. It's thick lips curled into a smile, revealing its hideous black misshapen teeth, releasing a vile carrion stench that flowed over Michael.

"She...is...," it screamed, every word being torn from its throat, every syllable final and filled with rage, "...MINE!"

Michael closed his eyes, ready for the end.

Lydia brought one of her three-foot blades down on its shoulder with all her might. The razor sharp metal cut through flesh and bone, severing the powerful limb in one clean stroke. Black blood erupted from the wound as the arm fell to floor with a dull thud. The arm spasmed and jerked for a moment before going still, oozing gore and leaking it's bizarre, foul smelling life's fluid. The howl of rage and pain that escaped the creature's body blew out every single last window in the cabin, caused every glass in the kitchen to explode. Lydia had to cover her ears and step back as it bellowed, surprised and in agony.

It was twice as dangerous now, and she had to act quickly. She brought both swords up and ran for the creature. It spun and batted at her, catching her off guard and sending her flying into the wall. The wind sucked out of her body as she hit the wall hard and fell to the floor. She looked up and saw the creature raise its other arm and slash at Michael. She heard him screaming and realized he was going to die. It hit her all of a sudden, with the full force of a nuclear explosion.