A High Sweet Song

"The Nosferatu cannot abide the Sacred Cross," Father Nicolai had once explained. "And should the cross be fashioned from iron, then it will be so much more efficacious for it is well known that iron repulses all things which are unholy."

"Mihaela! Back!" rapped Lady Corvus, a command which would brook no disobedience. The vampire Mihaela retreated a few paces at the harsh command, her steps reluctant.

The note of amusement returned to Lady Corvus's voice when she again addressed Elena. "I see you come prepared." A languid gesture at the cross. "An unfriendly overture from one with such a petition as yours."

Elena grinned. "I did anticipate some animosity."

"You speak well for a peasant."

"We are educated, my foster-sister Marla here and I. Our father was a school-teacher in a village many kilometres from here. Marla was orphaned at an early age and my family undertook to foster her. Then my parents died in a terrible outbreak of the sweating sickness and we were sent here to live with a distant cousin. He thought us little better than serfs and from our childhood treated us as such." Elena spat in disgust. "But Father Nicolai in the village took it upon himself to educate us. And he did it well.

"We have lived with that brutal clod, and all the other clods, for many years now with little chance of bettering ourselves. Grant my boon and we will have bettered ourselves for eternity. And we can take our vengeance upon our cousin and all others who have scorned and tried to make our lives hard and miserable."

Lady Elisabeta Corvus's stare was icy, daunting. "Why should I not kill you right now and have done with you?"

Elena held up the cross. "We are protected."

Lady Corvus snapped her fingers and several figures slunk into view from behind pillars and shadowed doorways, squat, swarthy, glowering men clad in sheepskin, men with curved knives in broad belts. "My szgany, my gypsies, my faithful slaves," she said, "The cross of iron holds no fear for them. I have but to command and they will fall upon you and slaughter you. That or take you both for playthings. From what I know of their amusing ways with women, I think you would prefer death."

Elena drew a deep breath. "I am hoping that you have a sense of honour, Lady Corvus. I would give you a challenge, a wager."

Lady Corvus nodded slowly. "That might be interesting. But first, tell me why have you brought your foster-sister with you."

"Because she is as worthy of freedom from those peasant animals as I am. Because I love her deeply and would be with her for evermore. And... because I have brought her to you as a sign of good faith. Because I have little else to offer save the one thing I love above all others. You might say that my foster-sister and lover is my sacrifice... my ultimate sacrifice... to prove my sincerity to you."

Marla's eyes were wide with horror and she clutched at Elena. "No... please... please..."

Lady Corvus turned her silver-scarlet eyes upon the girl who fell silent, enthralled and trapped within that awful gaze. "Name your challenge," the Nosferatu told Elena.

"Let me go now," said Elena. "Give me a head start and then send someone with orders to kill me. No, better—send two after me, one of your szgany and one of your... companions. If they can kill me, then you have lost nothing and have gained an acolyte in my lover. If I prevail, then your side of the bargain will be to admit me to your world."

Lady Corvus thought and then nodded. "It might be amusing to test your mettle. Very well." She turned her gaze upon Marla. "You, child, come to me." Marla rose and did as bid, movements slow and deliberate as if in a trance. Elisabeta Corvus took the girl by the hand and drew her close. "Don't be afraid, child. I promise you that it will not be terrible.

"As for you, Elena Havlec, I will give you one hour after which you become game. While the sun still shines, only Ghavrilå will pursue you." She beckoned and an ugly, heavily-built szgany stepped forward, a snarling grin displaying blackened teeth. "Then when the sun is beginning to set," Lady Corvus continued, "I will send Tatiana..." she indicated she of the red hair "...It's unlikely that Ghavrilå will have left much of you but if by some chance you have survived, then Tatiana will kill you. She will not take your blood for that would inadvertently grant you your wish. I think you will find that she is as inventive in the ways of killing as Ghavrilå, perhaps more so. Among the many boons of being Nosferatu, we are totally lacking in conscience. You may find it better to kill yourself before they overtake you.

"Go now! You have one hour."

* * * * *

The ancient forest covering the mountain was as old as time, so the villagers said, and despite the bright daylight was heavy with gloom. Trees clustered so closely together that in places it was difficult to make a way through but Elena knew where she was going, what she was doing. She left a trail for her pursuers to follow, nothing so obvious as to be suspicious but enough for a keen eye to pick up: a snapped twig here, disturbed leaves on the ground, a slight scuff mark in the dust of an animal trail. At last she reached her goal.

The small glade was thickly carpeted with the fallen leaves of countless years and beyond the clearing a density of trees and thickets provided good cover for a watcher or an ambush. Here and there were bulges of varying sizes, humps most likely created by massive tree roots or the activities of animals such as badgers Elena skirted the clearing, being sure to leave little signs, and wormed her way among the undergrowth to where she had concealed certain items some days before. She selected one, the hunter Ovidiu's cross-bow, primed it with a viciously-barbed quarrel, ensured that although concealed she had a clear view into the glade, and settled to wait.

The sun was much lower in the sky when she heard the sounds of someone pushing their way through the forest. She guessed that it would be the gypsy Ghavrilå and that he was over-confident, making no effort to conceal his approach. The man stepped into the clearing and paused to look around. He quickly noticed the disturbed leaves and followed their line with his eyes. That was when Elena deliberately rustled a branch, only a little but sufficient to make her would-be killer take notice. He again gave that evil grin revealing his black stumps of teeth and drew one of his great curved daggers. Elena made a second small noise and as Ghavrilå stepped closer she raised and fired the cross-bow. The bolt took the man full in the throat and he fell back choking, scrabbling hands tearing at the shaft.

Elena came out from her hiding place and drew near carefully. Ghavrilå made a futile attempt to seize one of her legs but she easily evaded him. She seized the bolt and ripped it from his throat, the resulting gout of blood splashing and soaking the girl's clothing which suited her purpose. The look in Ghavrilå's eyes as he died was one of baffled rage.

Elena smeared the man's dagger with blood, throwing it down by his right hand, before treating her own hunting knife is similar fashion. Going to the cache of Ovidiu's hunting equipment, she took what she needed and made further preparations. When she had finished there were several more leaf-covered humps on the ground, humps that blended in well with the natural ones. Finally, Elena sat and propped herself against the bole of a tree as if grievously wounded, her knife loose in her open hand. With her clothing saturated by Ghavrilå's blood, it would appear that her victory had been a Pyrrhic one. She just hoped that the vampire, Tatiana, would be as over-confident as the szgany.

It was dark when Tatiana, a silent ghost in the moonlight shining down upon the glade, appeared. She seemed to glide to where Ghavrilå lay, looking down on him for long moments before addressing Elena. "He was a great fighter among his people. You must be exceptional although you seem to be mortally injured. I could almost admire you. Still, you are alive if only barely so I can still enjoy helping you to die. I fear that you will not enjoy it quite so much. But it will exult Mihaela when I narrate what I have done to you."

Flexing her long fingers with their dagger-like nails, she moved across the clearing to where Elena lay. Her shriek was hideous as the iron jaws of Ovidiu's man-trap closed upon her leg. The vampire woman bent to prise the jaws open, only to shriek again as the iron scorched her hands. She frantically tried to drag herself towards Elena who slammed several iron crosses into the ground effectively chaining Tatiana down.

"Now we wait for dawn," said Elena.

Tatiana's screams continued throughout the night. And then the sun rose...

* * * * *

Taking herself away from the glade of death, Elena found a place where she could rest up for the day. When the sun began to wester once more, she made her way back to the castle.

* * * * *

Holding her flambeau aloft, Elena stepped past the hideously-carved door into the vast emptiness of the audience chamber. The place was silent save for the clatter of her footsteps on the flags and their echoes among the hidden rafters of the vaulted ceiling. Slanting shafts of pale moonlight—heavy with countless millions of wafting dust motes—pierced the narrow windows; together with the guttering light from the torch they gave Elena fleeting glimpses of the tattered banners and rusted weapons which adorned the lofty walls.

"Lady Corvus!" Elena called. "Lady Corvus! I have returned. I have met your challenge and prevailed. Come forth and witness the proof that I bring!"

The continuing silence was chill, menacing, and Elena felt a flutter of apprehension. She became convinced suddenly that hidden, hostile eyes were examining her and her nape hairs prickled. Thrusting aside fear, she took a deep breath and called out again.

"Lady Corvus! Come forth to keep your side of the bargain!"

With neither sound nor warning they were there at the far end of the great chamber, materialising from amidst the shadows as they had done on the previous occasion. There was Lady Corvus herself, tall and coldly menacing; there was the saturnine Mihaela, dark and deadly and glaring her hatred; and there was a third...

It was Marla. But such a different Marla from the self-effacing and submissive girl that Elena had brought to this place as an offering. Even in the dim light Elena could see that this Marla was no longer merely pretty. This Marla was aglow with the terrible beauty of a werewolf moon, her body no longer sun-browned but possessed of pallid, translucent skin marbled by a filigree delicacy of fine blue veins. This Marla was clad not in a coarse peasant smock but in a flowing gown of finest silk which left shoulders and arms bare, enhancing a newly-acquired aura of deadly eroticism. This Marla had eyes which shone even in the semi-darkness, eyes which sparkled with dancing shards of red and silver. The rictus of this Marla's yearning grin exposed glistening fangs and her blood-lust was almost tangible. Elena could sense that her lover was held in check only by the will of her terrible mistress.

Lady Corvus stepped forward to meet Elena, keeping the others in their place with an imperious gesture of her hand. "I accept that you have prevailed," she agreed. "You would not be standing here before me else. But if you have proof, show it to me."

Elena dug into her pouch and threw something which glittered as it tumbled in the moonbeams and rang as it struck and rolled across the stone floor. "Tatiana's ring," she said. She reached again and pulled out a pair of heavy curved objects which were thrown to land, clattering, at Lady Corvus's feet. Elena spoke again. "Ghavrilå's knives."

There was a muttered growling from the shadows and several szgany crept forth drawing their vicious-looking daggers only to halt at a glare and a rapped command from their awful chatelaine. "All of you! Go into the forest, find what remains of Ghavrilå and bury him where you will, or leave him in the open for the wild beasts. It matters not which---he is no longer of use to me!"

When the swarthy men had departed, Elisabeta Corvus turned again to Elena. "And Tatiana?"

"The rising sun took her."

"Ah... a terrible death for one of the Nosferatu. There will be little left of her."

"It was terrible," Elena smiled. Her eyes met those of Lady Corvus as if in challenge. "Not only the Nosferatu are untroubled by a conscience."

"I salute you." The Lady bowed sparingly. "I had fully expected to see your head at my feet, not these pathetic relics. So yes, I will keep to my side of the bargain. I will grant you the immortality you crave: you will become as we are."

She motioned Marla forward and then halted her eager rush with a snarled command. "You offered your foster-sister to me as a gift," Lady Corvus said. "And a most acceptable gift she has proved to be. I think it only just, therefore, that I offer you to her as a gift. It is fitting that she should be the first to take nourishment from your veins. She is young in her resurrected state and like a human baby her hunger is disproportionate. Mihaela and I will take what we need when Marla has glutted herself."

"Then Marla and I will not be separated by death!" cried Elena, joy in her voice. "We will be together always. I thank you for this boon, Lady Corvus."

"Marla, too, will be immortal," acknowledged Lady Corvus. She turned a softened countenance to Marla who gazed back with fervent adoration. "Before you feast, my child," she instructed," you may disrobe Elena and drink from that other fountain which gives such bodily pleasure." Her smile and tone were lustful. "It has been many years since I tasted that particular nectar from a living woman so Mihaela and I will also partake. Then, and only then, may you slake your thirst for blood. We, too, will sup from her veins. But take great care that you do not damage your lover, for I have given her my word of honour."

Marla reached forward with hands no longer work-worn, hands that were finer-looking than they had been in life, hands that were long and elegant with sharp, tapering nails. She seized Elena's shirt and pantaloons, tearing at them with an unnatural strength, ripping the material down so that the woman stood there nude. Elena felt a start of fear, then tried to remain calm as her foster-sister's body pressed against hers. Relaxing, she felt a surge of arousal quite unlike any she had known before. "You may remove your gown, Marla," whispered Lady Corvus, "See! Mihaela and I have already done so." Marla complied eagerly. Together, the three naked vampire women were supernaturally lovely and Elena was astonished to see that none had any body hair, exposing beautiful plump vulvas. They surrounded Elena and stroked her with caresses more wonderful and exciting than any she had known before. Her genitals felt aflame as her nectar began to flow.

Marla sank slowly to her knees and kissed Elena's vulva before inserting her tongue, causing her lover to cry out aloud. She had never experienced such ecstasy from just one lick. She could feel the pressure of fangs, although they did not penetrate, and the sensation of sharp nails as her lower lips were eased apart. Marla's tongue seemed to be longer than it had ever been in life, penetrating deeply into Elena's vagina. Marla reached a free hand between her own legs to masturbate, her growls animal-like as she fingered and rubbed. While Marla was pleasuring her foster-sister and herself, Lady Corvus and Mihaela embraced Elena and rubbed their bodies against hers. Lips fastened onto her thick nipples and fangs pressed against her breasts. She could feel the flow of honey from their genitals and to her shock the slippery essence was ice-cold. Both vampire women coated long fingers with their secretions and held them to Elena's lips. There was a strong female taste and yet something else beneath it, the vaguest hint of corruption. Yet despite that, she yearned for more. Now Elena's clitoris was enfolded by Marla's tongue and Elena cried out loudly as she experienced the most wonderful climax of her life. With a hideous grimace Lady Corvus took Marla's place, her tongue even more experienced than the girl's, while Mihaela knelt behind and licked at Elena's parted buttocks. Under their ministrations, she had further orgasms, each more powerful than the previous, too many to count.

Sated and licking female emissions from their lips and faces, the elder vampire women withdrew, leaving Elena trembling with pleasure. "Now, child, you may drink," Lady Corvus addressed Marla, "for it has been said that 'the blood is the life'." At these words, and for the first time, Elena experienced a breath of fear.

Fear, yes; Elena now felt fear strongly but she felt elation too, elation that she was to become one with these powerful rulers of darkness. Hot breath touched her throat and Elena shivered as Marla's tongue began to lap passionately. Despite her conflicting emotions, Elena found that she was overwhelmed with savage love for Marla. There was brief, ecstatic pain as stinging needles of teeth penetrated her jugular and Elena began to drift away into eternal night, senses soaring to a high sweet song, the high sweet song of death. As her sight began to fade, the young woman was conscious that the Lady Corvus, using a sharp fingernail, had opened a vein in one of her own breasts which she held to Elena's mouth as the blood spurted...

* * * * *

Elena was somehow conscious that the sun was setting, even without opening her eyes. But more than that, she was conscious of a terrible craving, a hunger such as she had never known, a hunger far beyond any normal physical need, a hunger which filled mind and racked body and exquisitely tormented nerve endings. Blood! She needed blood! Warm, rich blood to invigorate body and appease desperate longing.

She tried to move and found that she could not. Instead, a dreadful agony seared her body, tearing a tortured scream from her parched throat. Elena's eyes snapped open. The blackness of her tomb was like overcast daylight to her now-vampiric sight; surrounding her were walls which ran with moisture and slime and were patchy with thick clusters of foul-coloured mosses and lichens. A filthy ceiling, alive with fat, black spiders and the other vermin upon which they preyed, was little more than a metre above her face.

Elena struggled to sit up and again her naked body was racked with burning pain. She could see now that she was confined to a narrow metal box, lined with wood and earth, its open top barred by some half-a-dozen wide metal strips. Iron! She was imprisoned within an iron coffin!

Elena shrieked her rage and fought to escape, suffering even greater white-hot anguish as she did so. Only by lying motionless could she remain uninjured.

"Ah, your sweetheart awakens to her new life, dearest Marla," hissed a mocking voice.

Elena found that she could turn her head a little without discomfort. To her left, just within the periphery of her vision, a trapdoor set in the low ceiling had opened. Clustered around it, gazing down at her, were three vampire women, hand in hand: the Lady Corvus accompanied by Mihaela and Marla.

"What are you doing to me?" Elena screamed.

"I have no use for you," Lady Corvus told her. "And so you are to remain here."

"But you gave me your word of honour—the word of a noble—that I would join you!"

Elisabeta Corvus's laughter was harsh and unyielding. "You craved immortality. I gave you my word of honour that you would become an immortal, and I have adhered to that word. You were willing to offer your lover as the ultimate sacrifice in order to be Undead. You have now paid that sacrifice and you are, indeed, Undead. I promised you that, nothing more.