tagErotic HorrorA Sanguine Romance for the Dying Ch. 02

A Sanguine Romance for the Dying Ch. 02


Katrina opened her eyes, ready to greet the world again. For a moment she relished the cold and dank of the coffin in which she slept. She climbed out, her hair a tangled mess and her satin nightgown crumpled, yet still lovely. Katrina was not surprised to find Edmund waiting for her in the cellar. He was sitting on a simple wooden chair, charcoal and sketchbook in hand.

"Hold that pose," he said," keep your hand on the lid, that's excellent, dearest."

Edmund had taken up drawing ever since he had joined the ranks of the vampires. In those wonderful first nights of Katrina's adjusting to vampiric nightlife, he told her many stories. About how he was seduced by a young woman on his deathbed, how she had arranged for a fake funeral and how she taught him how to survive well beyond any human years. He also told her that writing did not capture the emotions of people as well as drawings and paintings do, so Edmund had switched to drawing instead. Their rented rooms were covered with charcoal sketches of the banks of the Thames, still lives and Katrina. She watched his hand dart across the paper, eyes flicking to and fro as he sketched with abnormal speed. Katrina waited, keeping her pose and the heavy lid perfectly still. Strain or weight no longer mattered to Katrina. This was confirmed every time Edmund gave her another goblet of blood or let her drink straight from him, two creatures of the night caressing and feeding from each other. She could lift the heavy dining room table if she wanted to, and this notion made Katrina feel even more revived, compared to the brittle creature she once was.

Edmund's hand stopped moving and she got out of the coffin, stepping behind him to look over his shoulder. Katrina looked at the stunningly accurate sketch of herself, a waif climbing out of a coffin with a surprised look upon her face. The pin-stripe delicacy of the charcoal lines made her shiver. It was as if she was looking at some kind of demon familiar, a carbon copy of herself in another dimension. She wrapped her arms around Edmund's neck and kisses his fiery hair.

"Let us bathe now, Edmund. You promised to take me out hunting this evening." She purred the words in his ear, and a fanged smile graced his pale face.

"The bath is steaming and ready, my love," he answered. With that he dropped the sketchbook and charcoal on the floor and pulled Katrina up on his back, who could only giggle as she was swept off to the bathroom, where the porcelain tub let off hot steam, the water smelling of sandalwood and roses. Edmund let Katrina slide off his back and turned to face her. For what seemed to be an eternity they simply stared into each other's eyes, mesmerized by the river of thoughts floating between them. Katrina had found out that the art of not speaking is widely practiced among vampires. Well, Edmund loved it anyway. Their minds instinctively found each other, embracing each other at the end of their auras, telling each other their darkest desires and confiding in each other's immortality. As if ordered to they began to undress each other, Katrina unlacing Edmund's very much-outdated brocaded shirt and unbuckling his trousers, watching them fall lifeless on the floor. Edmund took his time with taking of Katrina's nightgown, slowly pushing down the straps of her nightgown until they were both naked. Edmund stepped into the tub and offered his hand to Katrina, who deftly let herself being guided into the tub with all the grace of a ballerina.

Both of them smiled contently as the heavy fragrance clung onto their statuesque bodies, and began to wash each other with their bare hands. Katrina sighed as Edmund's hands passed over her breasts, making the nipples rise to attention. Grateful, she slid closer to Edmund, lifting him slightly out of the steaming water so that his cock hovered around the surface. With deliberately slow gestures she poured water over Edmund's half-hard member, washing it with her fingertips before Edmund closed his eyes and let his cock come to its full hardness. She began to stroke it intently, eager for him to orgasm. She was young. And hungry. Edmund knew this. Each night as they bathed the same ritual took place and he had no intention of breaking this newfound tradition. He clutched the edge of the bath as he brought his body further upwards, signalling Katrina to come claim her reward. Without a lost moment she leant in and placed her mouth around the throbbing pale head, moaning loudly as the hot blood spurted against the back of her throat. Her eyes, blood-shot, narrowed to feline fierceness as she sank her teeth in the flesh of Edmund's cock, wanting only more. Greedily she made sure every drop was safe inside her mouth, before Edmund's orgasm had wavered and had healed the puncture wounds in his flesh. Katrina moved herself up and put her head next to his, closing her eyes.

"Who needs hunting when I can feed like that?" she murmured fondly. Edmund threw his arm around her. "I might not always be around to feed off leisurely. God knows what could happen," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You're never, ever going to leave me," she retorted curtly "and God has nothing on us."

Edmund merely sighed and pulled himself up out of the bath, offering his hand again to Katrina as she giggled slightly, her undead heart fluttering at the impending excitement. She had not seen Edmund hunt yet, and she was curious as to how he did it, yet she was also afraid that she could not do it. To force someone, to hunt someone down until they were cornered and could only serve as food to her, and killing...she shook off the thought and gratefully accepted Edmund's gentle rubbing of a soft towel on her back. Both dry, they donned fancy clothing and gazed at themselves sin the ornate mirror in the centre of their drawing room. Edmund, looking like a nomad artiste in his brocaded white shirt and tight black trousers with added mystique through his grey boots and greatcoat. Katrina wore her favourite outfit as of late; a widower's ensemble, complete with a black veiled hat and a tight corset. She loved the look of the seedy widow, bereft of all and giving the hint that she might perform unspeakable acts of sin in order to make ends meet...but that was just Katrina's delightfully sick mind.

The streets greeted them heartily. London's infamously thick fog congregated around the musty gaslights that struggled for prominence in the ever-dark night. None of the gentlemen or composed ladies were around at this time of the night; the nights of London belonged to the derelicts, the shivering beggars on the wet pavements, the wide, nervous eyes that lurked in the numerous alleyways and to the laughter and banter of burly labourers in the taverns and inns. This was Katrina's and Edmund's world, this was their London. Their beauty and majesty crowned them as king and queen of all that could hear the bells of St. Mary Le Bow, and whoever sampled every vice and decadent luxury on the East End would someday yield to their opaque and hidden reign. The night was forever there for the taking. They let their feet follow the murky Thames, both of them silently marvelling at the beauty of nocturnal London. When they had stepped down to the banks of the Thames, in a district where no sane gentleman or lady would dare to tread, Edmund suddenly halted and looked around. Katrina noticed that he seemed to be sniffing the air. The bestial gesture surprised her, and she could not repress a slight giggle.

"Just what are you doing, Edmund?" she asked gaily. Edmund held out his hand, as if to halt her. Again he sniffed at the air, and his eyes took on a yellow sheen, mimicking the moon above. The hand he held out withdrew save for his index finger, which slowly moved toward the horizon until it came to an abrupt halt. Edmund smiled. "Look, there is our host for the evening." But as Katrina followed his finger, she could only see the churning waters sprawled across London. She turned to Edmund, her expression positively bewildered. Edmund laughed and laid an arm over her shoulder.

"Darkness or distance no longer keeps you from seeing what you want to see, my love.

Just listen to the sound of my voice, look for the things I tell you to see. Command all your senses and your blood to strengthen your vision. A black house, more of a hovel really, the laughter of women can be heard on the streets, the smell of brandy and absinthe clings to the lace, sweat and semen add to the cocktail of..."

Katrina soon became mesmerized by Edmund's solemn voice. Her eyes became fixed upon the very spot Edmund pointed out, and his words tickled her senses. She could see a lady take a swig from a mug of brandy wine, smelled the seed of many men between her legs, saw the dim light inside of the house where she lay on a dirty bed. And then she saw it as clear as she could see Edmund looking admiringly at her, yellow eyes looking into yellow eyes.

"That place...am I to hunt there? I thought...I thought you would pull people off the streets and then just...what are we going to in that place?" Katrina felt her mind racing with thoughts; her young undead mind still not that much different from the dying girl who had rubbed herself to her lover's lurid Gothic tales. Edmund offered his arm to her and gently guided her further along the banks of the Thames, closing in on the house.

" It is very taxing to just pull someone of the streets nowadays, my love. Besides," Edmund added with his coy smile, "just because we call it hunting, it doesn't mean that it's a gruesome act. You can make it as enjoyable or as sombre as you want it to be."

Katrina nodded, but she did not quite understand what he meant. Edmund noticed this and his voice took on a more scholarly tone. "We'll be visiting an old friend of mine, Slouching Roderick. He's an entrepreneur...well a pimp, really. He has helped me out quite a few times when I wanted to dine out, so to speak. And I have arranged a meeting for us so you can hone your skills at seduction in a safe environment."

Edmund's matter-of-fact tone truly baffled Katrina. They were going to a whorehouse? She had expected better of him. She stopped dead in her tracks and looked Edmund hard in the eye. "Do you really expect me to just walk in there and drink from some tarts you bought for me? What kind of woman do you think I am? And what kind of sordid little creature are you really?" Her lips were pressed together so that what little colour was left in them was now completely gone and her eyes spat fire at her lover, who apparently was not of such good breeding as she had previously thought. But Edmund merely burst into a fit of laughter that shattered the relative calm of late-night London.

"I had no idea that a lady who used to finger herself while lying in a bedroom of an upper-class London manor and who hours ago made her lover cum in the bathtub, rather skilfully I should add, would find a brothel repugnant!" He calmed himself again, but his grin did not vanish, canines glittering in the moonlight. Edmund placed his slender hands on Katrina's tensed shoulders and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"You have trusted me until now, and have I ever let you down?" Some of Katrina's tension and anger flowed away under the touch of his hands and she shook her head. "Then trust me now, and know that nothing will happen to you, or to anyone else for that matter...unless you want things to happen." With a whoop of you he picked Katrina off her feet and swung her around in the air, and she giggled and screamed for joy. He was right...nothing would happen to her as long as he was with her. As he set her down on the ground again, she whispered her apologies against his chest and pulled him close to her.

"Now show me what you have prepared for me, my love." she muttered huskily before planting her lips on his, two lovers defying the night to defy all that was sensible to the good people of London.

A musky heat rushed out to greet them as Edmund opened the door of the black house. The rough-shod place was filled with all sorts of men of low disposition, burly labour men playing cards, lewd women on their laps who poured them more cheap liquor and whispered vices in their ears, vices Katrina could heard clearly and even astounded her. A small fat little man with a grimy beard and brown pig's eyes who sat at the bar promptly slammed the bar and rushed toward them, his grin missing some teeth. "Ah, Mr Ruxard, my favourite patron! How delightful it is to see you again, milord!" Roaring laughter bellowed up from his round torso as he slapped Edmund roughly on his shoulder. Edmund merely nodded and shook the man's hand. Then he pushed Katrina to the fore. Roderick's beady eyes lit up with thinly disguised lust at the sight of Katrina.

"Bleedin' hell milord! Your taste in women never ceases to amaze me! I am Slouching Roderick milady, humble owner of this little massage parlour that I call home. It is a pleasure to cater to your needs this evening." He then proceeded to kiss Katrina's hand, and she clearly smelled the alcohol on his breath and heard the greed in his words. Edmund cleared his throat as to interrupt Roderick's adulations and took a bundle of money out of the inside pocket of his greatcoat. He gave it to Roderick and moved past him, dragging Katrina with him.

" We will be having the normal room, Roderick?" he asked half-heartedly, already confident that the answer would be affirmative. As they both darted through the room they went past a black curtain and entered a little oasis of cleanliness and ambiance amid the squalor of the rest of the whorehouse.

The undoubtedly grimy walls were covered with red fabric, and a large mattress was laid down upon the floor, graciously framed by large pillows, all purple, red and black. Arabian oil lamps were fastened upon the ceiling, sensually lighting the room just enough for Katrina and Edmund to see two ladies lying upon the floor, smoking and drinking. They were dressed scantily, as one would suspect in a brothel, but compared to the aging wenches in the hall, they were true goddesses to behold. A curvaceous dark-haired nymphet looked up at them with glazy brown eyes, her white negligee offering Edmund and Katrina an excellent view of her heavy breasts. She shook the leg of the other girl, a thin blonde with big blue eyes. She stayed on her back, her blue eyes widening as she saw her paying guests standing over her. Katrina could see her nipples pressing against the fabric of her black nightgown and she felt her cheeks flush with excitement. She tried to compose herself. Never had she looked at women that way, but she had to admit to herself that the sight of these two...whores excited her. Besides, she felt something far more intense than lust deep inside of her. Again she smelled alcohol, but a sweet, almost herbal aroma had saturated the drapes and pillows as well. But when she went beyond all that, there was but one scent that overwhelmed her senses utterly. Blood. Thick, sensuous blood. Blood that was hers for the taking. And she was not the only one who was savouring that forbidden smell. Edmund had places his hand on her buttocks, was squeezing her cold flesh and was licking his lips while watching the two women.

The plumper dark one sat down on her knees. "So, you're the Ruxards then? The ones who lost their child?" Her stare was fixed on Katrina, who looked at Edmund with astonishment. Then she heard his voice in her mind.

"We always need excuses. Our existence is as much a lie as that it's a truth that we're walking corpses. I knew you'd wear your widower's outfit, so I had Roderick instruct these girls. They're all yours to mother tonight."

Katrina found it hard to repress her amusement at Edmund's penchant for drama, but composed herself. Her face turned sad and stern as she sat down on the mattress between the two ladies. "It's been so hard for us lately...I miss my darling daughter so much. I can remember how I used to nurse her, tickle her tummy." She pulled the black veil further down over her face to hide her smile. The blonde one clambered up now and looked at Edmund. "I thought we'd be having you tonight, guv'nor! Have you paid Roderick already?" Her cherubim face had a malicious glare, and it was directed at Edmund. He played his part well however, and knelt down at the edge of the mattress.

"Yes I have, and my wife needs the attention I cannot give her. She has instincts she cannot express anymore, and she is in dire need of doing so." He gave the suspicious girl a trusting smile. "I'd be ever so grateful if you two would give her the opportunity."

But the blonde was still not content with what was going on, and the dark-haired one had lit a pipe and took a big drag off it, the herbal scent Katrina had smelled emanating throughout the room again. The blonde one lay down again, crossing her legs. "Well, I'm not a charity-worker. You'll have to pay me more if you want me to go and comfort some little mum." Katrina felt a pang of rage shoot through her veins, wanting to hurt the slattern. But Edmund merely smiled, reaching out to her thoughts again.

"This is the lesson...think of how a mother feels toward her children. Let all the love and gentleness reach out, work miracles, Katrina!"

As Edmund drew back and sat down on a rickety chair in the far corner of the room, Katrina did not know what to make of his words. But somehow the feeling of them had touched her, and she set out to do what he had told her to. She briefly closed her eyes, saw herself in a sunlit house full of people, and they all gave her praise and came to embrace her, she was the focal point of everyone's attention. Then she opened her eyes and looked at both of the girls. She touched them both lovingly on their bare skin and the carelessness of opium and bitterness of malcontent drifted away from their eyes. They both sat upright and kissed Katrina on her cheek. The plumper one took off Katrina's hat, letting her lustrous hair flow freely past her shoulders, smoothing it with her hand. The blonde started to unlace Katrina's corset and further relieve her of her clothes. Katrina merely smiled lovingly, and let her girls have their way. The blonde one let out a sigh as she unveiled Katrina's tight breasts, and curled up in her lap, her mouth suckling at her nipple. Katrina moaned softly and placed her hand between the girl's thighs, where wetness greeted her. Delighted she let her fingers slide across the girl's slit, who promptly cooed as she sucked hard on Katrina's nipple. The dark-haired buxom girl had taken off her negligee, and cupped her breasts, looking admiringly at Katrina. She gestured the girl to come closer and let her tongue swirl briefly around one of the dark, big nipples. She squealed and stroked Katrina's hair.

"Oh mama, how sweet you are," she moaned, and then joined the blonde, suckling at the other nipple. Katrina graciously accepted the affection and repaid her in kind, her free hand enveloping the plumper girl's mound, and Katrina was now fingering both girls in the same rhythm. The girls moaned and whimpered and Katrina felt her own crimson fluids gathering between her thighs, lust causing her to breathe. She shot a glance at Edmund, who was watching Katrina in her role as loving seductress and nodded his approval. Delighted, Katrina let herself fall back amidst the pillows and let her mind reach out to the blonde one, who shifted the attention of her tongue from Katrina's breast down to her crimson-coated cunt. The girl lapped eagerly at the heady blood that came from Katrina's pussy, while the dark-haired one massaged Katrina's breasts and kissed her hard.

"Yes, my lovely girls, show how much you love me, oh yesss," Katrina groaned, straining to look up at Edmund, who had sat down at the edge of the mattress again.

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