The Beauty, the Mindflayer, & the Vampire

Taken from the transcript of recordings by psychiatrist Dr. Strukely at the Koczewye Mental Institute, name of subject witheld

Father, I have sinned. I nearly wished I could say those words then. But I had not sinned. I remained untouched by the corruption and the devastation of the scenes that unfolded. I remained aloof, clean. Yet the very events of that strange day did impress themselves most deeply upon my soul. It was a day as unlike today as could be. The sun was strong and warm, a kind a nurturesome influence. Honey and nectar were on the air, blooms on the fields. Gentle breeze, the tang of brine as the pulp writers say.

Today, the rain pelting the cold grimy window, the mires outside soaked and treacherous, the mountains cloaked in fog and smoke. A day quite unlike that day. A day for memories, if memories they were. For truths if a Truth there were. It brings to mind the memories, if that they were, that I remember (I think) recorded in the writings of a master writing of another writing of a third. These images (or my memories of images) evoke that day, when the sun was strong and warm and the sea fit for a postcard.

That day I saw a lewd and licentious woman, naked and butchered, being eaten by revolting toads and sucked by snakes, besides her a satyr with swollen belly and the legs of a griffon, covered in disgusting hairs, with an ugly, gaping mouth screaming of his own damnation, and I saw a miser, paralyzed in the rictus of death upon a lavishly ornamented bed, now the hapless prey of a cohort of demons, one of which was tearing the child-shaped soul from his gasping mouth (ah, the sentence of eternal damnation), and I saw the arrogant man, being ridden by two demons who stuck sharp claws in his eyes, while two gluttons bit and chewed each other in a sickening duel, and other creatures, creatures with the head of a goat, the mane of a lion, the maw of a panther, trapped in a forest of fire, whose burning breath I nearly felt upon my face. And around them, intermingled with them, above them and beneath their feet, there piled up other faces and other limbs, a man and a women, grabbing each others' hair, two adders drinking the eyes of a damned man, a deformed man with bent arms prizing open the gullet of a hydra, and all the monsters of hell's bestiary, united in chorus and arrayed on guard around the throne in their midst, singing the glory of their damnation, fauns, hermaphrodites, freaks with six fingers, sirens, hippocentaurs, gorgons, harpies, incubi, dracopods, minotaurs, lynxes, 'eetas, chimeras, canoperas with dog muzzles shooting flames from their nostrils, dentyrants, polytails, hairy snakes, salamanders, horned snakes, water snakes, pythons, bicephalics with teeth growing from their backs, hyenas, weasels, crows, crocodiles, hydropi with saw tooth horns, frogs, griffons, monkeys, dogheads, leucrottas, manticores, vultures, parandrines, otters, dragons, odiocavers, banshees, basilisks, hypnaliai, presters, spectafics, scorpions, saurs, sea monsters, scitallics, amphisbaenas, joculas, dipsadians, green lizards, polyps and unguars, morays and turtles.

They were all there, the chorus of hell, the lovers of decay. There, hidden in the sunlight, crouching in the blades of grass and the fragrant flowers. Somewhere deep, in our gut, I felt them and knew them and was close to them. I saw the darkness and the lightning and the pelting rain. Men heaving and shouting and screaming and dying upon cold steel. The red, reddening mud that clung and filled all wounds and covered all traces. And there the Vampire and the Mindflayer did battle and did slay one another.

But they did not die. And there they awoke, in that warm and fragrant land. And the land was fine and the land was warm and it was as paradise, as payment, as afterlife for a life of sin and gluttony and horror. And it was truly now seen that heaven is not for the meek.

"The sun is high, it burns my skin, makes me ill," said the Vampire.

"Let us then follow the path," replied the Mindflayer. And so they did, the ordinary looking Vampire and the vibrant blue-black Illithid. The path was yellow and of brick and did lead down from a wooded meadow into a narrow, manicured stretch of land, huddled between red-black cliffs and the warm, salty sea. They walked not as men would walk; instead they levitated and seemed to float, elegant and serene yet dreadful and deadly.

I found the air pleasant, the sun not too hot or too cold, and I saw the house where they were headed. It was the only structure visible and seemed more an organic composition than an actual building, grown and sewn and sculpted through the centuries and through the various architectural styles in haphazard yet mellifluous design. Gothic portals and modern glass, brickwork and stucco, Romanesque columns and colonial walls, classical windows and oriental railings. The Vampire and the Mindlfayer approached the door, which was green and of fine wood. The wood itself seemed to shine with green and upon its surface was chiseled a face, at once serene and annoyed.

The Mindlfayer reached for the door, but found no handle, rather the eyes of the face flared open and it squealed, "What do you think you're doing, young runtling? Have you no manners, touching other people around the face?"

"We would have entry," replied the Flayer. A short dialogue ensued; I will not repeat it here, as authority would say that pointless speech that lightens the mood also lessens the weight of the written word. But it was with the arguments of Servilius Onesti that the door did send the message that indeed it was the coin of gold that would by admittance through the narrow door of the righteous path and gain indulgence.

The Bloodsucker and the Mindflayer did thus away to a nearby village or town, to garner coin and perhaps see to some enjoyment of that day.

As per the door's directions, the village was where it was - fifteen miles and no more, nestled at the head of a narrow bay on a slope between the mighty cliff and the gentle green meadows and the brilliant white beaches. It was an old village, of stone houses and stone streets, red roofs and hanging gardens of fragrant flowers and vine trellises. Its streets thronged with appealing young maidens dressed in revealing triangles of fabric, swollen, sweating, gold-chained, grey-maned and short-trousered bulky middle-aged men and locals. I could have sworn that the only reason there were so many fair ladies there was the bulky wallets that stretched the already tight and woefully unfashionable shorts of the sweating mid-life crisis sufferers, but perhaps I was being uncharitable and a doughnut did much to calm my angst, though the shoppe owner was most rude and seemed to have difficulty noticing me.

The respectable men in trunks sweated by their easels as they painted amateurish aquarelles of the harbor, which happened to include large numbers of young women bathing in the sun and reading cheap literature. The smell of sun screen, fish and sweet pastries filled the air and the Vampire and the Mindlfayer alit by one such shop, the Vampire taking the form of a nondescript and quite invisible young, pimpled adolescent while the Flayer took the skin of one of the ubiquitous jowly, grey-haired men. There by that shop they, or rather the Flayer, for the Vampire was quite unseen, asked an officer of the law the location of a coin of gold. They were instructed to a jeweler between bites of glazed donut and gulps of glazed cola.

I saw the small jewelry shop, in a romantic narrow street, perfectly positioned to attract and detract from the wallets of passers by. They entered the shoppe, which was filled with golden trinkets and a young beauty standing behind the altar-like counter. I saw her full, firm and most delectable breasts which tho' large were not too large and certainly not pendant. They stretched the satiny fabric of her skimpy top, which served to accentuate her cleavage. Her midriff was bare and pierced, tanned to perfection and muscled to definite attraction. She wore a short black skirt, which barely covered her nudity (for I could see she wore neither thong nor any other garment beneath). Her legs were long and shapely, with the characteristic musculature of a distance runner. Her shapely feet occupied a pair of stiletto sandals that laced up to her knee and generously outlined her smooth skin. Her arms were strong but slim, her hands delicate, well manicured. Her neck was perfect, an upright column that supported her face, which captured my attention and held it. A dazzling, practiced smile, a small and just slightly quirky nose, shining blue eyes, velvety skin and a long, luxuriant waterfall of blonde hair.

The Flayer approached her, while I continued to stare at her full lips and slightly flushed cheeks.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked politely, smiling all along. As she turned I saw her round, firm buttocks that stretched her skirt and curved in the most erotic way.

"Do you have any gold coins?" asked the Flayer equally politely.

"Why certainly!" she turned with a spring in her step that caused my breath to catch in tune with her buttocks motion as she sauntered to a cabinet, bent forward and removed a tray filled with various coins of gold. She demonstrated the coins, which had tags with different numbers (probably prices) written on them. The Flayer looked them over and finally pointed to a pair of large, ornamental coins.

"Those are memorial coins issued 25 years ago in the Metropolis, very rare and quite valuable," she recited.

"Would you give them to us?" asked the Flayer in a suggestive tone of voice, his pernicious mind gently toying and teasing with her brain.

She seemed taken aback though, obviously inured to such mind games, "Sir! I couldn't do that! My master would tie me up and abuse me most brutally if I should do something like that!"

"Your Master? Where is your Master?" asked the Vampire, his interest piqued.

"He is having lunch till five o'clock,"

The Vampire and the Flayer looked at each other, then suddenly as a cobra striking the Flayer's strong yet sinewy arm struck out and grabbed the blonde by the throat. She gasped and gagged, her eyes bulging as she brought her arms up to flail at the Flayer. But his grip was steel, and she could little resist him as he pushed her towards the back of the store.

"Wait, let me!" said the Vampire as his eyes bored into hers. Her mute plea for help became a glassy, dreamy gaze as his will completely humbled her. It was over in seconds, her subdued and dominated. The Flayer released her and she stood, waiting for the Vampire's orders.

"Undress."

Slowly, sensuously she slid her hands along her flanks, stroking her breasts, before reaching behind her neck and untying the halter-top and releasing her breasts one by one. She cupped each one in turn, while gazing at the two monsters. I felt my breath catch as she turned, almost demurely, and slowly slid the thin skirt over her peachy buttocks, exposing the full cleavage of her ass. She bent down to step out of her skirt and I feasted upon her ripe, puckered anus and smooth shaven vulva. As she turned around I could feel myself grow hard at the sight of her trimmed bush, which seemed to point in invitation towards her slightly wet pubes.

The Flayer smile wickedly and looked at the Vampire, who nodded and motioned for him to speak.

"Take the statue of that goddess and sodomize yourself with it on the counter," he ordered, pointing to a pious statuette of a goddess staring straight up, her arms in a position of prayer.

Without hesitation she reached for the heavy, foot and a half long golden statuette. Sinuously, glancing playfully at the Vampire and the Flayer, she climbed onto the counter. There she knelt on all fours and licked the head of the goddess with her long, smooth tongue, staring at us all the while. Then she reached down to her soaking pussy with her left hand and wet three fingers inside herself before proceeding to play with her ass.

First she pushed in one finger, moaning slightly and taking the whole head of the goddess in her mouth as she did so. She worked her finger in and out as she warmed up her asshole.

A second finger joined the first as she continued stretching her tight ass, moaning and raising it higher in the air, so we would have a better view. When she had three fingers inside she reached for a bottle of lube with her other hand and spread it liberally across the statuette, fucking herself all the while with her other hand.

Her pussy was literally soaking as she removed her fingers, leaving her gaping ass staring us in the face. She rested on her smooth forehead as she maneuvered the cumbersome statuette with both hands, running and rubbing it along her nearly bare pussy. The goddess' golden head disappeared inside her pussy with an almost audible pop and she gasped with the sensation of the cool gold entering her.

Sensuously she spread her ass cheeks as wide as she could and guided the divinity from her vagina to her puckered hole, smearing juices and lube across her ass. She licked her lips lightly and shivered as the cool, gleaming head touched her tight entrance. I could have sworn she was enjoying herself and that it wasn't just the Vampire's indomitable will that was sending her into this state.

Her whole body shivered as she pushed the statuette against her puckered pink anus, running it round and round, rimming herself. I could see her muscles visibly relaxing as she rimmed herself, loosening her sphincter and lubricating herself at the same time. With a sharp and sudden thrust she pushed the cold, metal head inside her ass. She moaned, I couldn’t believe it, but she actually moaned with pleasure.

As she groaned she turned and twisted the golden divinity inside her ass, slowly pushing more and more of the statuette inside. The golden hands clasped in prayer teased her perineum as she fucked herself. Strenuously. Incredibly, she was actually fucking herself as hard as she could, sliding the now slick feminine figure in and out of her wet asshole. Her pussy was practically dripping, the sweet, sticky juices smearing her thighs. The Vampire licked his lips, hungrily almost, and the fat, jowly flesh the Flayer had taken was not immune to the temptation either – though to see his erection would be far more difficult on account of the beer-induced overhang of his belly.

Suddenly I noted the Mindfucker look in agitation at the clocks, it was nearly five and at a look from the Vampire they both nodded. It wouldn’t do to be seen here, with this fine blonde valkyrie exercising her rectal muscles in this way. The jowly grey-hair form seemed to melt and drip until it coalesced into a small red squirrel, which proceeded to hide behind an interesting antique clock while the Vampire reassembled himself into a small bat, hiding himself in the rafters.

Meanwhile the blonde kept at it, her sighs and murmurs getting faster and more agitated. She was now rubbing her pussy with one hand while she held the statute steady with the other, impaling herself on it. She was incredibly fit, her stomach nearly a six-pack and her fine, slim muscles glistened with perspiration as she groaned. Yes, no doubt about it, she was enjoying herself. Truly bizarre.

Suddenly the little bell suspended above the door jangled and a tourist, of the hanging belly and porky complexion variety, entered the small shop. He walked three steps into the room before his mouth flopped open in surprise, making him look like a suffocating toad, as his sun-addled brain slowly ticked its way around the sight before him. He dropped his snow cone, oblivious and bug-eyed. The soft ice cream left a sticky smear on his sandals as he seemed to try to decide whether to run out of the shop or onto the girl.

She noticed him, pausing in the ministrations she was doling out to herself not a bit. Her eyes lit up and she smiled. I’m not sure if that was her, or the Vampire’s doing. Whatever it was, it stretched the tourist’s horrible tropical print Bermuda trunks and a leering grin spread across his face. She purred. She actually purred and arched her back, tugging the statuette out of her ass and revealing her red, soft, violated hole to the tourist. If he hadn’t been aroused before, he was now and his upper brain was obviously disabled. The blonde girl held the goddess in one hand, looking over her shoulder at the sack of tourist while she continued to fondle her pussy with the other.

The little bat-Vampire murmured softly, “Kill him.”

As the tourist waddled closer the Vampire squealed again, “Kill him. Kill him.”

The tourist laid a hand like pork meat on her firm buttock, squeezing it tightly, and the Vampire hissed a fourth time, “Kill him!”

The girl’s eyes flared, I could swear they flared red, but no matter. Her muscles bunched and flexed as she turned around, quick as a wild alley cat. She swiped the fat man’s hand away and brought the heavy golden goddess around in a powerful swing. The man’s sweaty, chinless face still enraptured by her pretty ass, the mouth a fleshy “o” and the eyes bulged and glassy behind the small round glasses. He didn’t even have time to react as she smashed statuette against his shoulder. I heard the dull thunk of the impact and the sharp crack as his bone snapped.

Then he shrieked, his left arm hanging useless and limp at his side as he staggered back from the counter and the suddenly vicious, murderous girl. She leapt lightly from the counter, bringing the now bent statuette forward and stabbing him in his hanging gut. She stabbed him with such force that his sun-burnt skin split like a ripe tomato and his blood splattered across the girl, the statue, the floor, like a red fountain. He tumbled to his knees in agony, shrieking, glasses askew.

He wore a toupee, I saw, now that it had fallen off. She stood above him, spattered in blood, her pussy engorged and inflamed. She was aroused. I don’t know, perhaps it was the Vampire controlling her; perhaps a hidden corner of madness had broken loose. She took hold of the goddess with both hands and swung her hard against the side of the man’s head. The goddesses’ praying arms connected with his temple first, penetrating his skull. His head popped like a nut and I was now sure it was something vampiric inside her, giving strength to her muscles. Fragments of bone and brain flew across the room, narrowly missing the squirrel-Flayer and bat-Vampire.

I shuddered slightly as I watched her stand triumphantly, rubbing herself with one hand, while the other still held the red-gold thing. It was deformed by the impact, flattened and bent on one side. The Vampire and Flayer sniggered to each other and as they left she followed them outside.

As the two monsters flew away she was sodomizing herself in the sunny street with the gore spattered statue, waiting for a summary sentence to a mental institution no doubt. I couldn’t help but wonder whether or not I was a source of this madness that had consumed her and whether or not I was mad myself. Mad monsters unleashing their madness.

I couldn’t look back as the Vampire and the Mindflayer departed the scene of their twisted design.

Apparently the subject subconsciously felt an affinity with the Vampire character, but was afraid or unable to contemplate such an affinity, thus the personal form of the narration - even though it is obvious in several cases that there is no third person, no narrator present. Other clues point to the Vampire and the narrator being the same person. The stories is almost certainly a jumble of fantasies produced by a sexually frustrated individual.