The Somali Vampire Queen

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Somali female vampire terrorizes Ottawa at night.
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Samuelx
Samuelx
2,121 Followers

I waited in the thicket until twilight, then waited some more. At last, Imran Hafiz left the masjid, and I smiled triumphantly. For once he was alone, I could see none of his usual assortment of armed guards anywhere. Moving silently I dashed across the yard, my feet barely touching the ground. Drawing my dagger from my pocket, I struck. Three times I plunged the blade into his chest, and once I thrust it into his neck. Almost completely severing his head from his body. The old preacher fell, and lay still. The whole thing had taken less than ten seconds. Satisfied that my mission was accomplished, I retreated to the shadows once more.

As a prominent Imam in the City of Ottawa's fast-growing Muslim community, Imran Hafiz is viewed as a leader to many. What most people don't realize is that he's also the leader of a group of Muslim warriors sworn to battle the undead. Since time immemorial, Allah has summoned men and sometimes women to battle the forces of darkness. On the Christian side, the Vatican funds hordes of mercenaries who hunt down vampires across all the lands of Christendom. From western Europe to Latin America, from the Caribbean to West Africa, from Southeast Asia to Australasia.

Killing a man like Imran Hafiz strikes a deadly blow to those who hunt we who walk in darkness. Since he went to Mecca for Haj as a young Muslim scholar, Imran received an edict from the Saudi clerics themselves to rid the universe of vampires. For the blood drinkers, as they call my kind, threaten not only the Infidel world but the Muslim community, the venerable Ummah, as well. And just like the hard-headed bozos that they are, Muslims refuse to fight beside Christians against our kind. Politics, what can I say?

Their mutual distrust and long history of rivalry and conflict won't allow them to put aside their differences and join forces. Even in the face of a global threat not only to the nations of their respective faiths but the entire world. In the State of Israel, the Jews are battling an undead uprising and doing everything in their power to keep it under wraps. They refuse aid from both vampire-hunting affiliates of NATO and their few allies in western Europe. Yeah, they're that short-sighted. Fortunately for us. If these two were ever to join forces, we could kiss our asses goodbye. Since Imran Hafiz is one of a few Muslim leaders out there who genuinely believed in interfaith dialogue and reconciliation, as far as dealing with inhuman threats, removing him pretty much guarantees that there shall be no alliance between Christian and Muslim against us vampires. I've done well.

With a song in my heart I walk from the east end of Ottawa to the Rideau Mall downtown. Anyone looking at me would see a short, slender young woman with dark brown skin, clad in a long dark skirt and hijab. I'm five-foot-six and weigh one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. With my pretty, youthful face framed by my silver hijab and my innocent golden brown eyes, I am the picture of Islamic feminine modesty and beauty. Minutes later I morph into something more my style. The hijab and long skirt are gone, replaced by a black leather jacket, a red tank top and a short black leather miniskirt, complete with thigh-high black leather boots. Oh, yeah. I am dressed to kill. Except I've killed already...

My name is Nawaal Ahmed and I'm a vampire. I was born in the City of Borama, in the Awdal region of Somalia. The first day of the holy month of Ramadan in the year 1877, I first saw the light of day. On the nineteenth summer of my life, I met a tall, handsome young man named Saleh. We became friends, and he offered to save me from a forced marriage. My father, Ismail Ahmed wanted to marry me off to his old friend Farouk. A fate I dreaded, for Farouk was fifty years old, and already had three wives. The grumpy old man would look at me lustfully whenever he visited my father's house, and to be honest, he gave me the creeps. He was a far cry from Saleh, who was handsome, educated, and charming.

I ran away with Saleh three days prior to my wedding, abandoning my family and friends, and any chance at a normal life, for the love of a charming, intelligent young Somali man who promised me the world. In hindsight, perhaps that wasn't my best decision but when you're nineteen, a young woman caught between a rock and a hard place, you're likely to make desperate, ill-advised decisions. For had I chosen to remain with my family and marry Ismail, I would be long dead now. Just another dead Somali woman who followed tradition and obeyed the rules of her people and her Islamic faith all the days of her life, with hardly anything to show for her devotion.

Saleh and I escaped but not to the paradise he promised me. Indeed, the tall, honey-colored young Somali man I thought of as my prince charming revealed himself to be anything but. Saleh was a vampire, and he took his sweet time revealing it to me. He'd been one since the time of the Crusades, and had been brought into the unholy existence of the undead by his mentor, Sheikh Hakim. Together they cut a bloody swath across the Horn of Africa and much of the Arab world, for untold centuries.

They made quite a pair, the vampire overlord known as Sheikh Omar and his acolyte, Saleh the Night Stalker. Until the day Saleh betrayed his master and exposed the old vampire to the sun's lethal rays. As I would do to Saleh one day, exactly thirty years after I joined the ranks of the undead. I can still hear his screams of pain and surprise. The roguish vampire Saleh brought me across to end his loneliness and I did...permanently. Death brings an end to all things, including millennium-old lonely vampires.

Worn down by the passage of millennia and extreme loneliness, Saleh sought a companion to join him in his endless torment of an existence. Guess who he found? Sweet old me. He bit me, and turned me into one of the undead. Three nights later I rose as a fledgling vampire. Thus I was cursed to my new existence. I'd gone from a lovely young Somali woman loved by my family and friends to a thing that must hide during the day and comes out at night to drink the blood of the living...

When your eyes first open and you realize that you're undead, it's not the most pleasant feeling in the world. You no longer breathe, your heart no longer beats. You're numb from head to toe, save for this gnawing hunger deep inside. Only blood can provide you with any nourishment whatsoever. The blood of animals is okay but human blood is tastier and far more empowering. A vampire can survive on animal blood the same way an imprisoned man can live on bread and water. Such nourishment is certainly nothing to write home about, wouldn't you agree?

With Saleh as my guide, I learned much about the ways of the undead. Worldwide, there are millions of vampires. Most of us hide in plain sight. If you have a neighbor who only comes out at night, is mysteriously absent during the day, and just doesn't seem to age, odds are he or she is a vampire. Most vampires try to fly under the radar, buying blood from blood banks, and occasionally feeding on homeless people, those that society won't miss. And then you have those like me. The innovators. Those who firmly believe that vampires should rule the world and humans should be our slaves.

According to what I've read about vampire history, in the olden days, especially in Africa and the Arab world, vampires ruled and humans were their servants. At some point, there was an uprising and vampires were driven from their places of power. And ever since those days, humans have forced special hunting groups, usually led by their religious leaders, to hunt our kind. For some reason, the more religious a person is, the more fearsome they are when battling our kind. I've killed ordinary soldiers, policemen and the like, and they're nothing compared to those who call themselves "Allah's warriors". They're like rabid dogs, and they're fearless. Someday I mean to rid the universe of their kind...

Tonight, though, I am in a celebratory mood. I went to my favorite bar, Honest Lawyer, in the By Ward market area of downtown Ottawa. Everyone's eyes are riveted on the screen. It's the Sochi Olympics and although they won't admit it, Team Canada is worried about the Americans in the hockey division. Yes, Crosby came through in Vancouver but can he do it again? I go to the bar and order a beer, and it's not long before someone hits on me. He's nearly six feet tall, red-haired and green-eyed, somewhere in his twenties. He introduces himself as Lloyd something or other. We flirt and chat and then exit the bar together half an hour later. Lloyd attends the University of Ottawa and lives nearby. We go to his apartment.

I like to play with my food, and nothing works up my appetite like hot sex with a stranger who doesn't know he's about to die. Lloyd looks good naked, and I eagerly climb on top of him. His warm, hot dick thrusts into my cold pussy. My body feels cold to him, but he believes me as I blame it on the frosty weather we've been having lately. Lloyd sucks on my tits and smacks my ass while slamming his dick inside of me. We go at it for the next hour, then he lays exhausted next to me. Human males lack stamina. We vampires can play all night, and then some. As Lloyd catches his breath, I pounce on him. My sharp teeth sink into his throat, and as he dies, hot blood pumps into my mouth. I drain him dry. And to prevent him from coming back, I snap his neck and bludgeon his brain. The next day or whenever he's found, the local police will think of it as a crime of passion.

Just to be sure, since we live in the age of forensics and all ( I love CSI and Law & Order : SVU ) I set Lloyd's apartment on fire. Then I head out again, since it's only ten and the night is still young. I hop on the bus and head to Nepean, since I'm getting bored of downtown. While on the bus, I run into a trio of black girls, all of them sporting Algonquin College gear. I smile at one of them, a tall and strongly built, dark-skinned sister with dreads, and she smiles back. I casually introduce myself as Maya from the psych department, and she grins and nods, for apparently I look familiar. Introductions are made, and we shake hands.

The gal's name is Bethlehem and she's trying to play it coy but I can tell she's attracted to me. We make small talk, and I learn that they're headed to a campus party. I act shy when Bethlehem invites me to join them, but oh so reluctantly accept. Half an hour later, we're at a house near Merivale, not far from Baseline Road. There were about twenty five to thirty people in the house, most of them black, and I liked the ambience immediately. Reggae music flowed, as did the alcohol. I danced with Bethlehem, and from the way she moved, pressing her chest against mine and locking her lustful eyes with mine, I could tell that she wanted me.

A couple hours later, Bethlehem and I snuck upstairs, and found a secluded spot. Once there, I undressed and allowed the gorgeous Ethiopian gal to see what I was working with. I'm quite beautiful, and wonderfully preserved due to my vampirism. I'll always be a nineteen-year-old curvy Somali cutie. Bethlehem licked her lips, and gestured for me to come to her. Sitting on a high-backed chair, legs spread, her eyes apparently mesmerized by the sight of me, Bethlehem's heart skipped a beat as I sat on her lap.

Grinning, I took her beautiful face in my hands and kissed her full and deep. Make love to me, I whispered into her ear. Grinning wolfishly, Bethlehem lifts me up in those strong arms of hers and carries me to the nearby bed. Once there, my sexy Ethiopian woman laid her whammy on me. I lay on the bed, stark naked and legs spread invitingly. Bethlehem kissed me and thrust two fingers into my cold pussy. I felt her warm mouth on my tits, her tongue flicking over the areolas. I shuddered inwardly as her heat invaded my cold, dead body.

Seizing Bethlehem bodily with both arms, I flipped her on her back, stunning the hell out of her. A five-foot-ten, sturdy young Ethiopian sportswoman like her isn't supposed to get grabbed like a kitten by a gal my size. I can see surprise in her eyes, but not fear. Good. I kissed her again, and climbed on top of her. As my tongue licks her tits, my fingers rub her mound before sliding into her pussy. It is so warm inside, and already wet. Bethlehem's eyes widen as I thrust three fingers inside of her, then four. Grinning, I lick her lips and kiss her forehead. Then I work my entire fist inside her cunt. Bethlehem gasps, and her eyes widen. I wink at her, and whisper into her ear.

Groaning, Bethlehem locks eyes with me and urges me to fist her. Hard. I do, and she cries out from both pleasure and pain. Sucking on her tits as hard as I could, I elicited little moans from her. Hmmm. Let's see if I can get some more out of her. While sucking on Bethlehem's tits, I licked a path from her chest to her neck. Gently I grazed her throat with my fangs, causing a frisson to course through her Amazonian body. I had my gorgeous gal right where I wanted her, with my fist so deep inside her cunt you couldn't tell where she ends and I begin. While fisting her pussy, I got a deliciously naughty idea. I slid my middle finger into Bethlehem's asshole. All the way to the knuckle.

You should have seen the look on Bethlehem's face. Shock, awe, and a bit of a turn-on. I silenced her upcoming moans with a kiss, sending shivers throughout her gorgeous body. I felt her flesh shudder and practically melt around my hand, and a deep, passionate scream erupted from her lovely, full lips. My gorgeous Ethiopian Amazon screamed in orgasmic delight, and it was such a beautiful thing to both hear and behold. I gathered her in my arms, wrapping her hot body in my icy embrace. I looked into Bethlehem's drooping, misty brown eyes and smiled at her. Bethlehem smiled at me, the picture of happiness. That's when I sank my fangs into her throat.

I left Ottawa the following night, and went to Montreal to cool off. The way I figure it, the hunters will be following me. I killed Imran Hafiz, more than a venerable old Sheikh, he was one of their top leaders. They cannot let his death go unavenged. I also killed two innocents, and for the Muslim warriors dedicated to eradicating all nonhumans, that's something they cannot ignore. It's like someone invading your house, killing your people and leaving a taunting message writ in blood. Not something even the most ardent pacifist in all the land can bring himself or herself to simply forgive and forget. They're coming for me, but that's okay. I'll be ready for them. They're only mortals, after all. I am something they'll never be. Simply put, I am...eternal.

Samuelx
Samuelx
2,121 Followers
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AnonymousAnonymousabout 10 years ago
Please, no more.

If only there was a level below one star.....

AnonymousAnonymousabout 10 years ago
The REAL terror of Ottawa is....

...your hack writing. PLEASE get a lesson on writing!!

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