Thirty souls did congregate within that empty palace on the outskirts of New York, well, perhaps I should correct myself, twenty-nine souls for I was one among them and the undead have no souls. Ten men as angelic as Lucifer before the fall stood around conversing near the banquet table filled with fresh meats and very poor Cabernet Sauvignon. Blood red wine was quite appropriate for these so-called vampires convening together for a night of orgy and bloodletting. I could not help but be touched that they, like myself, appreciated the fruit of the vein. The other nineteen stood there as well, absolute Venuses and buxom goddesses that neither time nor weather had appeared to touch. I always enjoyed these sort of celebrations, they always humored me with their stories of how they “fell” and of course there were those with their ceramic tooth implants and red contacts. Those that were too cheap had plastic teeth, but it was no matter for in a few hours they would all be mixing pain and pleasure in a truly artistic way.
The young lady that approached me went by the name of Nightraven. Her tan Spanish complexion was further complemented by the black silk she wore flowing about her otherwise naked form. She wore her hair down and her black locks extended down from her head to her backside. She stopped to ask for a drink and I couldn’t help but notice the bulbous vein throbbing in her vibrant neck. Her chest might as well have been exposed for the world, but as we spoke she loosened the robe little by little. Riding her dress up further and further to expose her inner thighs she allowed more than a glimpse as she guided my hand to massage her now moist womanhood. As I gently drove my fingers first around and then inside her exposed orifice, we embraced passionately. I stared deep into her eyes and found blue instead of red. A single tear fell from my flame colored eye as I continued with more and more vigor to bring her to climax again and again and again. I kissed her and slowly worked my way towards her neck. Noticing my movement she offered it freely to me.
Piercing her flesh I drunk in deeply the life-force that had sustained me for more than 500 years. No, I would not kill this one! I set her down on one of the sofas near by and allowed her to sleep peacefully. The blood continued to trickle from her neck but the people, engrossed in their own fantasy, paid her no attention. At last one man raised his glass and staring about the room pointed at me to tell my story of “the fall” that brought me into darkness and shadow. I arose from the sofa, grinned a rather pointed, bloody grin and decided to tell something they had never heard before at their vampire gatherings: a non-fiction.
“When I was but a boy, being orphaned and alone, I was taken under the wing of a local mosque in Spain and taught the true faith. More important than that, however, I was taught to fight and bleed for Allah. It was at the age of fifteen that I wielded the crescent blade for the first time but at twenty-six I was called upon to use it in battle. The Muslim Empire in Europe was collapsing around us, falling at the hands of the Crusaders. I did not know or care for their Christ but I knew of the sacking of Constantinople and feared these savages that would conquer their own peoples.
Myself and a score of warriors were sent to the fortress to defend our Muslim land against the armies of Rome and Isabella. On the day of battle a mere 1,000 Holy Warriors defended against a Papal force of 5,000. As they assaulted our walls with chants of ‘Jesu Christi!’ we knew that we were lost. In a final act of boyish idealism I leapt upon a turret where a soldier of Rome had just crept from his ladder. We immediately crossed crescent and cross but the look in his eyes became so devilish that I lost my faith in Allah at that moment. I struck out at him with ferocity but the young soldier just laughed at me. I could see a set of fangs where normal teeth ought have been. My glare was cut short by a powerful toss to the sturdy stone below. I lay there motionless expecting to receive the mortal blow, but instead he pounced upon me and sunk those wretched teeth into my throat. I felt no pain, a wave of heat washed over me and I was new again, I believe very much like your Christ’s disciples received the Spirit. I looked about and the soldier was gone, but the fighting continued.
Although I felt stronger than I had ever felt, I fled from the battle and ran until the darkness enveloped the red sunset. Setting out for Barcelona, I soon discovered my new hunger. Every year, at the Running of the Bulls, myself and others like me would feast upon those foolish enough to tempt the fates. Easy prey stayed me for hundreds of years, but I eventually tired of Christian blood and so I arrived here, in New York City.
Applause and laughter filled the room, and the congregation proceeded to the table to eat their meats and drink their wine, but my concern was with the woman on the sofa that awoke. “How are you feeling?”
“Very weak, I think you bit me too hard.”
I examined the wound with delight but said nothing as I took her in my arms once more. The drink had left me with an appetite for more, but I would not take more from her. “Hold me tighter”, she pleaded and I did so. At that point she removed her robes completely and it was her turn to bite me. She tore away at my shirt with abnormally long nails and ripped it off within seconds. I roared with delight as she bit down hard on my chest. The blood was beginning to spill from my chest just as the others were finished eating. Twenty-eight other people were simultaneously undressing, biting, and fucking before the banquet table.
Nightraven threw me to the ground with a strength not possessed by women and began unzipping my pants. Now this was unbelievable! Never had I seen such a display of strength and will by any of my victims! She grasped my bulging erection with one hand and stroked it first slowly and then rapidly. While she did this another woman of Amazonian build sat down over my face and demanded to be sucked. I lifted my head and drove my tongue deep inside of her and she screamed in ecstasy. As I was lapping up her juices that rapidly flowed from her pussy Nightraven sat down on my rod and took it all in at once. She jumped up and down on my organ until I had no choice but to cum. It erupted once, no, twice, no five times within seconds. The explosiveness of my orgasm was so intense that I bit down on the unknown’s clit. Although she was bleeding she seemed to enjoy everything, her moans and screams of pleasure were unlike anything I have ever heard. This went on for a few more minutes before both women stood up and kissed each other deeply. In amazement I jumped behind Nightraven, shoved my cock into her orb once more, and bit down again into her shoulder.
“Harder, bite me harder vampire! More, do you hear me vampire, more!” My eyes shone bright red with passion as I bit her repeatedly on her shoulders, neck, and back, and always were the cries for more. I climaxed again inside of her but we remained stuck together, locked in a triangle embrace as they continued kissing each other.
Everywhere surrounding me were there women and men biting each other and making love. The smell was both of blood and sex, of intense passion and death. Yes, I caught a hint of death, no of undeath! I tossed both women to the ground and mounted the unknown. Not finding any tape or rope I pinned her to the carpet with my vampiric strength and thrust myself into her. Our bodies made a resounding slap against each other with each thrusting motion. Again and again I hammered away with all of my undead force until at last escaped a scream so loud from her bloodied lips that it shattered the chandelier overhead. We both laughed at the discovery. Thirty vampires, all expecting to find fresh victims at some “vampire party”, managed to find each other. Blood was everywhere when it was over, but we were weary from spending ourselves in such a manner not common to vampires. Nightraven looked into my now loving eyes and said, “Let’s go.” Out we went into the night looking for food. Vampires are always hungry.