She strolls along the dimly lit city streets. I watch her from the shadows as she checks behind herself, obviously wary from the distressing atmosphere. She approaches a dark alleyway and pauses; She isn't thinking of cutting through it is she?
The fog is thick tonight, the air heavy, and I can feel it: Something unnatural lurks in the shadows this evening.
After a moment of deep, troubled, thought, she darts into the alleyway taking long, quick, strides. I suppose she is eager to clear the ominous confines of the enclosed space. She spots the streetlights at the end of the tunnel of shade, and I can hear her sigh in relief as she draws near it.
But she, and I as well, are not alone.
A silhouette steps in front of her, and blocks her path. She stops with a such a start that she just barely manages to stifle a yelp. Trembling, she turns to come back the way she came. But she finds two more figures block that path as well.
She cries out a soft whimper as the shadows advance on her. Their whispers of cold laughter escape their grinning fangs. These are no ordinary men that have stalked their quarry into this lonesome alleyway, but creatures of the night: They are vampires. Lustful for blood, and god knows what else, they prey on this poor young woman. Perhaps she should not have tried to cut through the alley on this dark night. For the sake of a couple of minutes she may have lost her life.
"Hello there babydoll," they taunt and tease her as they jest. They show their fangs as clearly as their lethal intent.
But, lucky for her, the vampires are not the only creatures stalking the night. I drop myself from my vantage point, upon the roof, and land softly in the alley below. I barely make so much as a sound, but vampires have supernatural hearing. They instantly turn to me upon my intrusion.
I draw my blade, and the sound of the metal sliding out of its scabbard echoes against the sudden and deafening silence. My intent is every bit as lethal as theirs, but they laugh at me nonetheless; to them, I am but a small girl with an outdated weapon, and they are vampires! They are immortals: Fast, strong, and invincible.
"So you wanna fight little girl?" they belittle me as though I am child; I only grin.
Another sniffs at me and laughs, "mmm she smells really delicious."
I say nothing in return; I respond only with my blade. I have the element of surprise; I have the superior speed. Time slows to a near halt as I leap forward and run my blade through the first vampire. He does not even have the the time to flinch before he explodes into dust.
They realize, quickly, that they shouldn't be taking me too lightly afterall. They bare their fangs, hiss at me wildly, and crouch into a feral fighting stance. So they choose to fight me? Foolish: They are far too used to being the hunters, and do not know how to act when the table is turned.
The poor, certainly traumatized, girl takes this opportunity to flee, and I smile to myself. I would regret it if she were caught in the crossfire.
The first of my attackers comes at me from behind; He hopes to catch me off guard. But, almost as though I have eyes in the back of my head, I can sense his assault. I turn about, gracefully, and run my sword through him.
Two more move at me instantly, relentlessly. But I am too fast for even two of them: Cut, cut. They are reduced to ash.
No more attack: Finally understanding their predicament, They look at each other; fear etched deeply in their eyes. They feel a fear I am sure they have not felt since their death. They do no hesitate: They turn and they run.
But I am not going to let them go that easily! I am a hunter, and they are my prey.
I chase them down, one by one, and finish them off quickly. Their inhuman screams of agony and their pleading for their non-lives are lost on me: They are monsters! Would they have shown that girl any mercy?
I try to count back in my mind: Did I get them all? I didn't count them! Oh no! I didn't let any of them get away did I? They must not know that there is something out there that hunts them. As, I am sure, they do not wish humans know they are hunted. Let's see: I got about half a dozen. That must have been all of them. Oh, how I hate it when they run!
I am re-affirmed, now, in my confidence that my work is done, but I chastise myself for my carelessness. It is time to move on. I have a small camp outside the city limits; It is next to a small lake where I built myself a fire pit for later and rolled out a sleeping bag. I stretch my worked muscles as I reminisce on that lake. When I was there today it was so calm, serene, the sun beat down on it gently, and the birds sang beautifully. I cannot wait to return there and take the swim I missed out on earlier.
I leap into a headlong sprint for my hide-away, which is at least a few kilometres away. I know what your thinking: Why run that far? Don't I have some kind of transportation? But I can tell you, I don't need anything so mundane: I can run much faster than any human can, and even faster than any vampire! Time seems to slow as I move, my surroundings blur past me, and in mere minutes I am able to cover a couple dozen kilometres.
I know, it's not natural: The way I defeated those vampires, and the way I can run like this. What am I? Well the truth is, even I don't know...
I grew up an orphan on the streets. I stole to survive because I could easily outmanoeuvre those who try and stop me. I lived like this for so long, until one day the Father found me. He took me into the church, and cared for me as if I were his own.
I know what you're thinking: A church? How boring! But this is no ordinary church: It is a church of those who fight the unnatural. Each member of the church was trained to fight creatures of the night: Vampires, werewolves, demons... But I'm different. The members of the church are humans, relying on their wits to survive. But I am something else: Human in every way, except much more powerful.
Nevertheless, my name is Samantha, and I am a hunter.
When I finally reach my campsite I set to making a fire. I don't have the night-vision of a vampire, so the fire provides much needed light and comfort to my makeshift home. Still, I am eager for that swim, and so I begin to strip off my clothes. I rest my sword near the fire, and slide out of my top. Then I unhook my sport's bra, pull down my pants, and wriggle out of my panties. With each article of clothing I shed I toss it into a crumpled pile in the grass.
I dip my foot into the water to test it: It is mildly chilly, but it looks so tempting, so clear, so placid, and reflects the moonlight brilliantly. The forest around me is alive with the peaceful sounds of crickets, hooting owls, and other wildlife. Its the perfect environment of serenity.
I gaze into the water at my reflection, and the woman I have become stares back at me. I have blue eyes and shoulder-length, wavy, black hair, but it is matted from the battle. My feminine muscles accent my gentle curves seductively, and my B-cup breasts are firm with youth. I am not sure how old I am, but I'm at least in my early twenties.
I dive headlong into the water, and when I emerge I pull my hair back behind my head. The water feels so nice against my bare skin: So cool, so refreshing. I kick slowly, but swiftly, to keep myself afloat as I clean myself thoroughly with the cool spring water.
When I finally feel clean I lean back in the water and spread my arms and legs to keep afloat; I feel so at ease, so calm, everything is so quiet...
Maybe a little too quiet...
What happened to the sounds of the crickets? The owls? Something is wrong... I can feel a presence; its as though I am being watched. Yes, there is definitely-
And suddenly I am under the water. Something has grabbed my ankle and pulled me under with such a force I did not even get a breath of air in my lungs. It has me completely flatfooted and whatever it is wraps around me so quickly I have no time to break free. I struggle against my captor, but whatever it is is too strong! I can barely move with its strong arms around my arms and torso, and it's legs locked in twine with mine.
Before I even have time to consider how things could possibly get worse I feel it sink its fangs into my neck... Oh god! It's a vampire! And for the first time: I am having my blood sucked from my veins.
I am overwhelmed by panic and begin struggling futilely against my assailant, but he is much too strong for me. Yes, it is definitely a he: I can feel his cock, hard and erect, pushing up against the small of my back.
Oh god! Sucking my blood seems to have gotten him... well... excited... I wonder if that's a typical reaction? And he's naked!?
My lungs begin to burn: Unlike the vampire I require air, because whatever I am, I am alive, and much closer to a human than they are. My body is desperately trying to tell me that I need air to retain my living condition.
My eyes, wide with horror, are locked upwards; I can see the hazy light of the moon above me slowly fade to black as the lack of oxygen in my blood begins to draw me into unconsciousness. Whatever fight I had in me, useless struggling albeit, drains out of me as I go limp in his arms. With each weakening beat of my heart I can feel my blood gush from my tender neck into his hungry throat.
I'm going to die like this, aren't I? I can't believe how it is going to end: Years of hunting vampires, of making them my helpless prey, protecting people, I grew too confident, too cocky... I let my guard down, and one of the vampires from the fight got away. He must have followed me here. All those years of being the hunter, and now I am the prey.
No: None of the vampires from the fight were this strong; none of them could overpower me like this, even if they did catch me off-guard. One of them got away all right, but they lead this one right to me. I am certain of it. The father had warned me that there were a few very old, and very powerful, vampires out there, who could best even me. Surely, this was one of those vampires.
The moonlight fades completely, and weakly I bid the cruel world one last farewell. I hope the father's teaching are right, and that there is another life awaiting me. Farewell...
But then, a miracle: The vampire releases me, and as quickly as he appears, he is gone. With the very last bit of strength in me, renewed hope pushing me on, I struggle to the surface, and meekly kick my way back to shore.
I pull myself up onto land, and, with great pain, cough the water from my lungs. I grasp my neck in one hand and cringe in agony. I am sure the vampire is still here, and he is simply waiting for me to recover before renewing his assault. But I cannot work up the strength to resist him. I try to move my legs but they lie limply in the water; I try to pull myself up but my arms simply do not have the strength to overcome the weight of my body.
My hope drains again. I'm helpless: He can do whatever he wants to me and I just can't fight back!
I see his shadow looming over me now, and the panic wells up in me once again. I try to squirm away but only manage to snake myself about a foot or two away before he descends on me. He grabs my arms and sinks his fangs into my neck once again.
A stifled cry escapes my lips; I do not even the strength to scream. My entire body goes limp and I suddenly realize how dreadfully cold I feel, like the fingers of death clawing on my skin.
Confident that my arms do not have the strength to resist him anymore, he releases them and moves one arm around to the small of my back, and the other down to my inner thigh. He begins to rub me there softly, and yet another meek cry escapes my lips.
Is it not enough that he drains me of my blood, but must he touch me so inappropriately as well?
His fingers move swiftly to my nether-lips, and begin to caress them gently. A sudden involuntary wave of pleasure irradiates through my body. The pleasure hits not just from my pussy, but from my neck as well.
Suddenly every drop of blood leaving my veins feels significant; the pounding of my heart quickens as if it wishes to feed him more expediently, and a wonderful warmth spreads through every fiber in my body.
A vampire is drinking my blood... and it feels soooo good!
I know I should feel only shame for letting this happen to myself in the first place, and even more for suddenly enjoying it. But what can I say? It just feels too wonderful for me to feel anything other than joy.
As a slow, quiet moan escapes my throat, he begins to rub me faster. My breathing quickens, and I am suddenly granted the strength to move my arms from the last hormone I expected to help me now pumping into my blood. But instead of using them to fight as I should, I begin to caress the burly chest of my assailant. His skin feels so smooth, so cold, so hard...
At last he withdraws from my neck, and moves to look me deep into the eyes. In the dim moonlight I get the first real look at my attacker. He has short white hair, a bit of sexy black stubble, but the thing that really makes my heart skip a beat is his eyes: They glow an intense blue, staring at me intently with their own light that defies that of the moon, and they glare at me hungrily.
His lips lock mine and against the quiet cries in the back of my head we kiss passionately. I can taste nothing but my own blood in my mouth, but it tastes so good: Sweet, like honey... Why does it taste so good?
He sticks his fingers gently inside me and begins to stroke me deeply.
I gasp against his lips assaulting mine and he draws back, "Never have I tasted blood so sweet. Like a fine wine, you, my child, are to be savoured." His voice is so deep, so musical, and so, so relaxing.
His mouth moves down to my breast, and he gently begins to suckle my nipple. He licks and bites it softly. Pleasure, and a tinge of pain, irradiate from the point of contact and I arch my back as my breathing accelerates.
He spreads my labia with his skilled fingers allowing him to penetrate me deeper, and I twitch with pain as he presses against my hymen. He chuckles, "I had not expected one so strong and beautiful to still be a virgin." He grins and I can see the moonlight reflect off his white fangs.
I bite down on a nail as I await his next move: A nervous habit I had not realized I had.
He kisses my breast, and moves his skilled lips down my stomach slowly, savouring every moment, every taste. I can sense what's coming, but he moves so slowly it feels like an eternity of impatient waiting. He moves his mouth to my netherlips, with his fingers parts me again, and shoves his tongue inside me.
I can feel how wet I have become (and I don't mean the water) as he laps at my vagina gently. The stimulation feels too good and I can feel my cheeks flush with warmth. I groan softly and let my head fall back and my eyes close, loving every moment of it.
He flicks his tongue over my clitoris and a loud slow moan escapes my lips. He withdraws to look me deeply in my eyes again, "How you seem to be enjoying this hunter, should you not be penetrating my heart with your blade instead?" He glances over to my sword, lying in it's scabbard by the fire. I look with him, then back. He stares at me, seeming to expect an answer, but I cannot offer one. My head is swimming in the pleasures he has inflicted upon me and I simply cannot think at all. Instead I lie upon my back, with my legs spread, breathing rapidly like an animal in heat.
What has become of me? He is right, of course. He is a monster, I should be fighting him with every last iota of my strength. Instead I'm spread for him and nearly begging for him to fuck me.
He chuckles again, and his laugh is so superior. Damn him! "I think you have been waiting for this for a long time: To be defeated by a vampire, to become the prey of those you hunt."
At last I manage to speak against him, "No, you're wrong".
"Am I?" he taunts, "then do you not want my cock to penetrate you? I can leave you be now, and you will never have to see me again."
I know that this is the better offer for me, but it fills me with a strange kind of fear. A longing: "Please... No!"
He grins his fangs at me once again, "then admit it: You want this! You have always wanted this!"
I see his member dangling in front of me, and I eye it hungrily. I want it, I want him to stick it deep inside of me...
"Yes! Please, you're right, I'm so baaaad, I want this, oh god" I admit hastily, and for a moment I feel as though I lifted out of my body and look down upon it with shame. What have I become?
He chuckles again, enjoying his victory over me and slowly he positions himself to me, as though he were a key and I the lock. I bite my lip with anticipation as he moves his swollen member towards my drenched nether-lips. Then he penetrates me, slowly, inch by inch. As he moves into me I gasp in both pleasure. Then in pain as he pushes against my hymen. With one last push, it tears, and I cry out loud.
Then quickly he begins to pound me, moving in and out, and the pain turns into pure pleasure. I move my hand up to cover my mouth as the moans escaping me get louder and louder: I'm so ashamed of them.
His pumping grows suddenly more rapid, and with his hands he pushes my thighs out more, spreading me wider, and penetrating me deeper. I bite down on my hand in a futile effort to silence my cries of passion.
He grabs my hand away and locks his lips with my own, my cries escape now into him as his tongue shoves its way forcefully into my eager mouth. I lick at his tongue hungrily as he continues to pound me. My lungs again beg for air, much more quickly this time as my breathing has become very rapid in pace.
He releases my lips and sinks his fangs into my neck one last time. An incredible wave of pleasure rolls through me body instantly, arching my back as it moves down my spine, and when it hits my privates, I explode into a mind-numbing orgasm. He continues to pump into me as my body shakes and fights involuntarily against his strong hold on me, and when at last the pleasure passes I collapse back onto the ground limply.
I cannot seem to catch my breath as he pulls both his fangs and his swollen cock out of me. He grabs the back of my head gently and pulls me to him. I rest in his arms, wholly satisfied, breathing in and out rapidly, trying to relax myself.
He grabs a knife and hands it to me. I take it, shocked, as the tiny voice in the back of my mind urges me to plunge it into his heart.
With his finger he draws a symbol in the dirt, it looks akin to a pentagram, but not quite, something obviously ancient, and probably dangerous. "Carve this into the back of your hand," he commands of me.
I shove the dagger back at him, "No! Are you crazy!?"
He lets out a long breath, a tone of frustration etched deeply within it. Then he grabs my chin roughly with crude force. He wrenches my face so that my eyes look deeply into his own, and before I realize what he is doing it is already too late. His glowing blue eyes stare deeply into my soul, and everything else becomes blurry. The fog that has been on my mind since he assaulted me on the beach weighs down much more heavily and I feel myself surrender everything to him.
I know he has hypnotized me.
Without any further resistance, I take the dagger and carve the rune into the back of my hand. He does not make me do it quickly, and every cut is agony. When I am done, he runs his tongue slowly over the wound, and I can feel my skin singe, and smell burning flesh. Somehow, his saliva has sealed the wound. I gaze at the back of my hand and the rune is scarred permanently there for the world to see.
"This marks you as mine, now and forever," his voice seems distant past the fog in my mind, "no vampire, upon seeing it, will dare touch you."