Behind Closed Doors

I am a night owl, a creature of nocturnal habits.

Nothing out of the ordinary though, it is just that I work as a waitress in a nightclub. I start around nine in the evening and I get back home around six in the morning. Usually I have a light breakfast and then straight to bed. Therefore I mostly live by night.

Talking about living, I live in a small three stories building in the outskirts of the city. There are two flats on each floor plus the two below street level. I live in one of those, Apt A; it doesn't get much light but I must confess that with my time table I do not really care.

Most of the flats are occupied and there is a really good relationship between the tenants, in this time and age, it is something rare enough to be appreciated.

Let's see, on the third floor to the right, you have the Martinez; not so recent immigrants from Mexico; the parents never managed to learn proper English. They're pretty nice though and Mrs. Martinez cooking is just amazing, almost as good as my old mama's. Their kid, on the other hand, hangs around with the wrong crowd. I really do not like the way he looks at me, although I am pretty sure he looks at all the Latinas that way. Across the hall you have Mrs. Danford, she is a middle aged Yoga teacher who works in one of those fancy, up tight Gyms downtown. She lives there with her dog, an old cocker that goes by the name of Ingrid.

On the second floor to the left, you have the Sterns; it is a pretty regular American family with two teenage daughters that should be finishing High school by the end of spring. The parents both work in real-estate. I guess they must not be so successful at it because if they were they wouldn't be living here. Across from them, the flat is occupied by three students, Jane, Jean and Josh. I know it is funny their three names start with the same letter but I am pretty sure that they didn't move in together because of that.

On the first floor to the right you have Tim Mathews. He writes movie scripts for the pornographic industry under the pseudonym of Dick Cruise. He's a bit secretive about it but after we went out for a few months last year, he told me. The flat across from his is occupied by Samantha, we used to work together but she wasn't made for the nocturnal life so she found a job as a secretary in an important law firm. At some point last year, she arranged for me to go work with her but I do love what I do and I had to decline the position.

The below street level flat across from mine was empty until this morning.

When I came back from work there was a white moving truck in the street unloading the usual furniture plus three very large crates that looked extremely heavy. Two of them were large cubes and the third looked like some sort of very large coffin. The new tenant wasn't around so I decided that I would drop by his place tonight before going to work, just to say hi.

My name is Marisol by the way.

***

1.

I knock on the door. No one answers. I look at my watch; it is already ten past eight.

I knock again, this time a little harder. Still no answer from inside. I am about to turn around when I finally hear a very faint voice.

"Come in," I believe I hear.

I knock and stick my ear to the door.

The voice again, a bit louder but still very weak: "Come in."

I push the door, it is open. The flat behind it, a perfect replica of my own, is plunged into darkness.

"Hello there I'm Marisol, your neighbor from across the hall. I just wanted to say hi and welcome you to the building."

"Please, come in and close the door," the voice orders me.

I do not know why but I obey. I find myself surrounded by the most pitch black darkness. I feel the wall around the door in search of the switch and when I find it, I turn on the light. I look up to find the bulb, naked in my flat, covered here by a dark red piece of cloth. It bathes the room in sick bloody light. To my left, I spot the three large boxes. They're open. The oblong one is empty and the other two seem to be filled with what looks like dirt, grey and old dirt. The owner of the voice is nowhere to be seen.

"Please come into the room but don't turn on the light."

The voice is now more identifiable. It clearly belongs to a man, a pretty old man.

"Look sir," I answer, "I just dropped by to say hello; I have to go to work now."

"Please," this time the voice is weaker than ever before, "just come in here I need your help, it won't take much time, I promise."

I slowly walk to the room door and push it. In the half-light that pours from the living room I hardly manage to see a silhouette lying on the bed. The man is large, very very large, seven feet at least.

"Please," the giant says, "come closer, I need your help."

I move closer to the bed. I have the impression that the eyes of the man are burning through my skull in a dark red light.

"But that is impossible" I try to rationalize, "it's the cloth covering the bulb..."

For a moment I stop, thinking about the outside. The comforting and normal yellow light of the hallway is just a few feet away. I could turn around and the weak old giant on the bed could do nothing to stop me. I could walk away, could I?

"Please," he insists.

"What can I do for you? I really have to go to work."

"Come closer."

I come closer.

"Closer..."

Closer...

His face is a feet away from mine. Now, I am able to distinguish his features. He is old, so very old, older than anyone I have ever seen before. He is so old that his face is white, chalky white, and wrinkled, more wrinkled than a raisin, but his eyes are so intense, so powerful.

His hand suddenly leaves his side and wraps behind my head. I find myself immobilized. How a man so old could be both so strong and so fast? I do not have the time to wonder because he starts pulling me down, towards his face, towards his mouth.

"You will help me recover, youngling," he says to my ear before pressing his old and disgusting lips against my neck.

A terrible pain starting where the man has applied his mouth engulfs my head, my shoulder, my chest. It is as if I was crushed by a pair of oversized plyers. By the time it reaches my lips my scream becomes a faint sob. All I can hear is the old man sucking my neck in sickly slurping noises. I want to throw up. I try to push him away but his hand is still strongly wrapped around my head. I start to silently cry.

Finally, he releases me. I crawl back on my ass against the wall by the door trying to move away from him. Something warm and sticky is pouring down my neck into my cleavage, pouring down from where he sucked me... From where he bit me?

I look at his face. His mouth is covered with... blood; my blood. I want to scream, sincerely I really want to scream but I can't. This is too crazy. The old man doesn't look so old anymore, some life has gained his cheeks and chest, the wrinkles seem to have faded away, his hair is now ravening black. When, just a few moments ago, he looked a hundred and forty, now he only looks in his mid-forties.

"I'm sorry," he says wiping his mouth.

His voice is much more confident and strong now.

"I'm sorry," he says again, "I needed that so much."

I try to stand reaching for the door and the living room but before I can make it out of the room he waves his hand and the door shuts violently abandoning me in the absolute darkness of the room.

All I can see are his eyes burning red in the infinite night. He stands.

"I could have made this so much pleasurable for you but I needed your blood so much, let me make it up to you."

As suddenly as the terror took me, it fades away. I walk towards the dark red eyes. I can feel his love.

As suddenly as the pain overwhelmed me, it fades away. He wraps his hands around my waist. I can feel my undies soaked by my juices.

He presses me against his chest. He is hard against my belly. I try to say something but his blood stained lips cover my mouth. I can taste the copper of my own life on his palate. I run my tongue along the razor edge of his fangs. As my blood start filling our kiss, he cups my ass with ferocity. He lifts the edge of my skirt to access the back of my G-string. He pulls on it, forcing the cord between my trickling labia. I can't hold back a loud moan. My cum pours abundantly down my thighs. He lifts me and lays me down on the bed. He spreads my legs. I squirm in expectation of what is to come.

The tip of his cock is cold as it pushes through my curtains of flesh. I am so overwhelmed with pleasure that I start to suffocate. Slowly, gently, the serpentine virility of the old man finds its way to the back of my pussy. I have hiccup of pleasure when he finally fills me all the way to the bottom. For a moment he stays inside me, strong and pulsating, absolutely still.

He grabs my chin and pushes my face to a side.

His mouth is back on my neck. His tongue licks me clean of the coagulating blood. Once he is done, his fangs tear my skin again. I shiver expecting pain but this time the feeling of the old man teeth ravaging me is absolutely divine.

Slowly at first but then, more and more frenetically, he rams his cock into me, fucking me savagely while sucking my blood. All I feel is sublime delight, pure pleasure and absolute devotion to my Master.

"I have made it up to you, Marisol," he whispers after filling my guts with is cold dead seed, "but now you'll have to serve me. You'll have to hunt for me. You'll have to help me become strong again. Will you do that for me, Marisol?"

I think I answer yes.

My mouth fills with a warm coppery elixir...

***

2.

I open my eyes. I need to focus.

My flat, this is my flat. My room, I am in my room, my bed. I check the small transom to the street, it is dark outside. The digital clock on my night stand says 2:30. Shit, I over slept! I need to go to work.

"Marisol..."

"Not now, I'm going to be late for work," I answer.

I stop, who did I just talk to? I am all alone; I haven't brought a person to my flat in, like, forever... Even when I was with Tim, we used to hang out in his place.

The glowing red numbers of the clock drag me back to reality. I have already been late twice last month and Sam, my boss, promised that the third time would be the last. I have to get there and make him keep me, whatever it takes.

I stop again. Whatever? The idea actually makes me horny.

Whatever, yeah but not with Sam. Not obese Sam, not perverted Sam, not sweaty Sam... The more I think of it the more I grow horny... and hungry.

Focus girl!

I rush for the shower. The hot water falls on my shoulder. I look down; the water at my feet is stained red... When did my feet get so grey?

"Marisol..."

"Not now I said!"

That voice again. I look around, it sounded like it was just behind me. But there's no one behind me, there's actually only room for one person in my shower, not two. I tried it once with Tim, we failed miserably, it was actually quite embarrassing. Tim... Damn, I am hungry!

I look at the darkness of my room. The darkness...

It hits me. I haven't turned on a single light since I woke up. No light and yet I can see clearly everything around me. The plastic walls of the shower are closing in on me. I have to get some air; I have to understand what is happening; I have to...

I stumble out of the shower the water splashing all around me. I do not care. I have to focus, to get a grip on reality. I walk to the sink, I puke. I look up and I freeze: I am not in the mirror.

"Marisol..."

"..."

I am not in the mirror. I do not show in the mirror. I do not have a fucking reflection. My fingers on the mirror leave traces but behind the traces there is no other hand. No small framed Latina, with an insolent nose and two perky tits. No other me, smiling back at me, screaming in terror at me. I do not have a reflection. I...

"Marisol, my child, I need you to hunt for me..."

I stop screaming.

Hunt? I am starving, so hungry, so thirsty.

I need to go to work.

So horny... Yes hunting sounds nice.

I need to...

"Marisol, my infant, you will obey. You will feed me."

"I... Yes... Obey... Feed you... Master..."

And I remember!

***

3.

I climb the fire escape. I could have gone through the inside of the building but I wanted some fresh air. The window is closed and behind it I can see Jean and Josh sleeping on the couch in each other's arms. They look sweet, they look at peace, they look delicious.

Acceptance came pretty easily. After the first moments of confusion linked to the discovery of my new condition, I had to face the facts. My new neighbor was a vampire; he had bitten me, drank my blood and turned me into a creature of the night.

The TV is casting a gloomy blue light over my first two victims. I can sense my Master's presence in the basement but I can also feel him here with me, in my head. I am eager to what is to come but he seems even more eager. I try to open the window as silently as possible.

The link I share with the Master is a strong one. He was really helpful in the process of acceptance. He explained to me that I wasn't free anymore, that I was his. But he also explained that I shouldn't mind because there were many perks to being a vampire: I would get to live forever, I would enjoy pleasures beyond comprehension, I would be at the top of the food chain, chasing only the most interesting game and I would bathe in his eternal and unconditional love.

Although I do not fully understand all the consequences, I am glad for what he did to me.

Jean and Josh haven't woken up when I knocked over the big crystal bong on the little table by the window. They must be pretty stoned.

I look at him. Not as tall as the Master but he is at least two heads taller than me. Short blond hair, military cut, he is quite good looking for a nineteen year old. According to the bulge on his pants he is having quite a nice dream at the moment. I will have to take advantage of this.

I look at her. She is a very small brunette with long curled hair. A pair of knockers that looks too good to be true. I lick my lips in anticipation when suddenly I hear a noise coming from behind me.

"Come on guys, it's three in the fucking morning," I turn around to see Jane in the doorframe of her room, "I have class tomorrow. I'm seriously trying to get a good night sleep," and she spots me, "Oh! Hi there, I didn't see you, what are you... Never mind, could you just tell them..."

But I do not want to tell them anything I just want them to stay asleep so I grab her face, my hand over her mouth and push her back into her room. I gently kick the door behind me and continue pushing the deliciously confused blonde towards her bed.

"Mar... what ... doing..." she asks through my fingers.

"Hush, we wouldn't want them to wake up would we?"

The Master is here with me. I do what he tells me. I push her head to a side.

"... isol ... hurting me ... let ... go."

I lick her neck. She tastes good, she smells good.

"Mar... fuck..."

I can feel my canines grow longer, sharper, pointier; I know the time for my first feeding is at hand. Wrapping my lips on her pulsating vein, I slowly break the skin; she squirms trying to get free. I do not let her. Finally my mouth fills with the most delicious nectar of all.

Her tears roll down her cheeks over my hand. I taste her suffering, her fear. I do not care; I go on; I drink and drink. Her heart starts slowing down; she doesn't fight me anymore; she will soon die.

Wait, I do not want that, Jane is a nice girl. I might be a vampire but I am not a monster. I will stop now. I want to...

"Just a little bit more," the Master's voice in my head is curt, "don't stop just now..."

I must, if I do not she will die.

"Do as I say little one. Finish her, drink her dry, offer me her soul..."

I must... I must obey...

As she draws her last breath I suddenly feel overwhelmed by a terrible force. I want more; I need more. The Master wants more; the Master needs more. I want what the Master wants; I need what the Master needs. I am the Master, I want, I need.

The Master is in charge now. I do not care. I like being used, I love being the vessel of his magnificence.

I walk back to the living room; the two remaining students are still asleep. I want him, the Master wants her. I am not in charge. I kneel in front of her. I pull on her pink mini pajama shorts. She isn't wearing any underwear. She smells delicious.

She is awake now, she looks terrified. Is it the blood on my face? Is it my dripping fangs? Is it the Master hiding behind my eyes?

I do not like girls, not like that, but the Master does, so I spread her legs. I lean forward, I start lapping, she tastes good, she is salty. She must be closing in on her period because she is coppery too. My fangs extend in my mouth.

She screams, she tries to push me. I do not care, I do not let her.

My fangs scratch around her labia. My tongue quickly darts inside her guts. The blood starts pouring inside my mouth. She doesn't scream anymore, she moans now. The Master knows how to lick a cunt; I know how to lick a cunt. I am licking it, I am loving it.

She is loving it too. Josh is now awake. He doesn't understand what is happening.

My fangs have pierced her femoral artery; the blood flow is now potent. Over Jean's thigh I look at Josh lewd face, I am stronger now, I want him, the Master doesn't care. I extend my hand and shove it into Josh's large boxers. He's still hard. I start stroking him.

Jean's hands are in my hair, she screams now but from the pleasure I give her. Josh still doesn't understand what is happening, but he likes my fingers around his shaft.

I want him in me. The Master wants him too. I tell Josh, I order him to get behind me. He thrusts inside me. He fills me. He fucks me. Jean is weak, Jean will soon die. I do not care. All I care about is Josh drilling my pussy, all I care about is the pleasure, all I care about is Jean squirting over my face, all I care is her precious blood filling me. I crawl on her chest; my fangs leave a trail of bites all over her body. When she finally dies, I am chewing on her perfect nipple.

The Master is glad.

I turn around.

"Come on Josh. Fuck me harder! Give me your blood. Die for me Josh."

***

4.

Three bodies, I leave behind me three bodies, three persons whose death I am responsible for.

I stumble down the stairs, full of blood, full of cum, full of pleasure. The sun will soon be up. I guess I have to hide, I go for my flat, but the Master has come back into my head, he wants to see me.

The light is off; I walk into my Master's den. He's sitting in and old wooden chair, some sort of modest throne. I bow down in front of the Majesty of his all mighty power. I love him.

"Stand little one," he says, "come close to me, come sit on my lap and tell me about your first hunt, your first victims, come and offer me my tribute."

I walk to the ancient colossus and as commanded I sit on his gigantic lap. I feel like a kid in large mall just before Christmas. His massive hand on my thigh and his huge fingers inside me, foraging my drenched guts, quickly wipe the thought away. I start talking.

"Jane was my first... She was innocent... She was a good student... She moved in two years ago... Yes... Her parents helped her move in... Oh... She never caused any trouble... She never complained... She was polite... She was a good neighbor... Oh Master... So good... She was so tasty..."

His mouth is over my neck. His fangs dig deep into my veins and I cum and I cum again as I tell him all I know about the three students I just massacred. And he drinks, he drinks Jane, he drinks Jean, he drinks Josh, he drinks them in blood and in soul, he drinks them all and I start to feel weak, and I start to feel hungry again but I come and I am glad my Master has what he wants.