Crucifix

The wind swept in off the coast, whipping the leaves from the trees and plastering them against Becca's legs as she made her way home. Normally she would have appreciated the wild beauty of this but tonight she was in far too much of a hurry to get home. She had been in this town for close to two months now and still felt no more welcome than a cat burglar. The meeting had gone badly, the others had made no attempt to hide their contempt for her They made it clear that she was only a temporary problem and that, once the relevant calls had been made to the relevant people they would be free from her troublesome suggestions and unreasonable desire for change.

It wasn't only the matter of her gender she understood, it was also the question of age. At 35 she was nearly half the age of many of the people there. It had just been one night she told herself, and Rome was indeed not built in a day. The cliché however did nothing to quell the fire of indignation burning through her. Cassie would have known what to say, she had no doubt of that. Cassie would have sent them all home with their ears burning, their egos crushed and their hearts full of joy that such a woman had been sent to them. Cassie, however would sooner crawl over broken glass than attend such a meeting. In spite of this Becca was looking forward to seeing her old friend and recent roommate in order to pour out her bile over some food and a couple of glasses of red.

Becca and Cassie had been friends since University. Although their paths had divulged quite considerably they had remained close despite their differences. Both of them questioned the decisions made by the other throughout their life but both women respected the others right to go their own way. When Cassie had turned up on Becca's door unannounced two weeks before, Becca had asked no questions, had put her friend up in the spare bedroom and opened a bottle of wine.

Her house was picturesquely situated on the brow of a hill looking over the town and out to sea. Rather unfortunately it was also situated close to the town graveyard, a fact which although added a certain amount of atmosphere also creeped the hell out of her.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally kicked the door shut behind her, closing off the sound of the gale blowing outside. It had also started to rain during the last few yards, which just added the final touch to the evening. She looked at herself in the hallway mirror as she removed her scarf and coat. Her hair was sensibly tied back, the only think which rescued her from looking a mess. She took a moment to study herself in the mirror. She had always (and despite Cassie's assertions to the contrary) felt that her face was too thin, the lines too drawn. The hair tied back gave her the appearance of a particularly stern headmistress, not exactly the image she had imagined for herself when she was a teenager. She untied her hair and let it fall. It did little to improve the image. Her hair was fairly dark and without style. She pushed the hair back behind her ears. At full length it stopped at the nape of her neck.

Not that it made a difference of course. All the men in the area never saw past the small oblong of white at her throat. Cassie had said that some men would find the existence of a dog-collar erotic, they were after all, all the rage in fetish clubs. Becca had reminded her that they were entirely different types of collar. Hers only reminded people that she was the newly selected vicar for the parish. A woman of the cloth. A woman of God. Untouchable.

Smiling ruefully she moved into her study, situated in the front of the house. Here she removed her cassock, hanging it up carefully before changing into the more comfortable black shirt and jeans. For some reason she still felt slightly uncomfortable seeing her friend in the full vicar garb. She did not however remove the crucifix. It hung around her neck on a long silver chain. The crucifix itself was also made of silver, a quite chunky piece of work with a weight to match. It had been a present to her from her Mother when Becca had taken the decision to enter The Church. She tucked it inside her black shirt before fetching the bottle of wine from the mantelpiece and going upstairs looking for Cassie.

She meant to call out Cassie's name when she reached the top of the landing. When she reached it however her voice stilled in her throat. The landing was freezing. She could see her breath in front of her and a draft blew through the house. It was clear which room it was coming from and Becca felt a momentary surge of anger at her friend's carelessness. Muttering under her breath she marched up to her friend's door and, without knocking walked in.

She did not immediately take in the whole scene in front of her. The room was dim, the electric lights were switched off. The only illumination came from a number of candles dotted around the room, dancing wildly within their glass holders. The large windows to the room had, as she had expected been left wide open and the cold sea air blew through the room causing the curtains to bulge and flap like wings. Cassie, she then saw, was lying half on the bed, she was naked, she was bleeding and she was not alone. Her head and upper body was hanging over the side of the bed and there was what appeared to be numerous wounds on her breasts and hips. Her head was thrown back, her eyes open, her mouth moving silently. Next to her, sitting on the floor was the naked figure of a man. He was curled up around Cassie, one hand lost in the blonde tangle of Cassie's hair, pulling her head back. He appeared to be kissing Cassie passionately on the throat.

Although Becca felt fear her first impulse was to go to the aid of her friend and she took a step further into the room. At this point the man seemed to notice the existence of an intruder for the first time and raised his head from Cassie's neck. This was the moment where all of Becca's world turned inside out. There was blood smeared on the man's mouth and, as he grinned Becca stared horrified as she saw his teeth, extremely sharp and totally inhuman. This impression was only heightened by the mans eyes, shining silver in the flickering light. The eyes of a monster.

'Aaahh..' He spoke for the first time, his voice deep, with a strange accent Becca couldn't place. 'so you must be the Vicar. I have heard rather a lot about you.'

Self-preservation finally entered Becca's head and she took a step back, turning for the door.

Which slammed shut. She heard a dull click, that of the lock slipping into place. She ran to the door, furiously turning the handle

'What's your hurry?' His voice soft and low. She kept her back turned to him, putting all her effort into keeping control. 'You really should stay a little while.'

She mouthed a quick prayer before turning to face him. She fought hard with herself, actually succeeding to appear calm. Cassie was now lying full on the bed, her face turned away. Cassie could see even in the dim light that her breasts moved. Thank God, she thought, she's alive.

'And perhaps she will remain so.' came the voice, mocking and cruel. He was on his feet now and Becca was able to get her first good look at him. He was tall, just over six feet and extremely thin. In fact there did not seem to be an ounce of fat anywhere on his muscular body. His face was almost wolf-like in appearance, this resemblance heightened by his hair, white and long, reaching almost to his shoulders. He was completely naked and, she could see, aroused. His cock long, thick and hard. But it was his eyes that held her as he made his way slowly towards her; although her mind was screaming at her to run she held her ground.

He stopped just in front of her, gazing down at her upturned face. She finally found her voice:

'Please leave.' Her voice wobbled and she cursed her own weakness. She realised too much was at stake. 'The police are coming, if you leave now…'

His hand reached out, grasping her by the throat, forcing her back against the door. The sudden violence terrified her, breaking through the spell he had cast. She struggled against him, trying with both hands to prise his hand away. His flesh, she realised, was ice cold.

'Don't lie, I do believe that's in the commandments, but I would especially advise you not to lie to me.' His voice was became fierce as anger contorted his features making him appear even more animalistic. 'And if you don't stop struggling I will break your neck here and now.' To reinforce the point his hand tightened around her neck. She stopped struggling immediately, realising the futility. 'That's better', he whispered and then, leaning forward kissed her hard on the mouth.

The naked violence of the action took Becca's breath away. She tried to turn her head but he effortlessly held her firm. It had been years since a man had last kissed her and for a moment she was overcome with a variety of emotions clouding her mind. His mouth was hard, cold and brutal against hers. It was clear that she was in his power and that knowledge made her stomach turn to ice water. However, there was a raw beastlike sexuality to him which threatened to awake feelings long since buried. She resolutely kept her lips shut, shutting her eyes until he pulled back.

'Oh I am going to enjoy this.' He said, as with his free hand he began unbuttoning Becca's shirt from the top. He had only gone two buttons down when he started, a change came over his face and, for a moment Becca had the unnerving impression that he aged, became weaker. This soon passed, and before she could be sure of what she had seen the man quickly recovered. His hand reached into her shirt and pulled out the crucifix.

This find seemed to infuriate him and Becca seemed to sense some frustration although he clearly took great pains to keep his feelings hidden.

'Oh you are lucky, I should have known you would have some trinket about you.'

'Who are you?' She asked, confused.

'We are alike in some ways, or at least I used to be like you.', He smiled 'Faith is quite a killer, it never really leaves you does it? If it wasn't for this…' he held the crucifix in his hand, 'I would be doing such things to you now…'

'But the power of God stops you?' she asked, seeing the possibility of a way out.

'Either that, or the belief.' He conceded, 'Either way, I'm afraid it only protects you so far'.

She shook her head, signalling her confusion.

'You have a choice.' he said, his voice barely a whisper, 'you can run, go now I won't stop you. Go and get help.' Her eyes widened at the offer and she allowed herself a small flash of hope. Smiling he brought his free hand up, placing a finger to her lips, quieting her. 'But.' he continued 'by the time you get back I swear you will only find me gone and your friend, white, and cold and quite dead. I will use whatever time you give me to drain every last drop from her body.' His finger traced the outline of her lips as he moved a step closer, his naked body now resting against hers; she felt the hard press of his cock against her stomach.

'You have a second choice, one which you may prefer…' his hand moved to the crucifix, 'you can, if you wish take this off. While you wear it you are protected by its power, protected from my hunger.' She shivered as his hand tightened around her throat; a cold white fire seemed to blaze momentarily in his eyes. 'If you take it off however, take it off freely and by your own will, well then….' He breathed in deeply, taking the scent of her deep within himself 'well then that's a separate matter. Then I will take you the way I took your friend. Your friend on the other hand will be left alive until another night. There then is your second choice. Remove this trinket and give your life for your friend'.

His closeness was intoxicating, she found herself unable to look away, or even struggle, she could hear her own heart hammering away in her chest and a wave of fear rushed over her as her mind seized on an image. An image of her, lying in Cassie's place on the bed with this fiend bent over her in the candlelight, his savage mouth tearing at her throat. The sense of fear was all the more heightened by the fact that, just before it engulfed her, and only for a moment she felt an equally strong feeling of desire overpower her.

He seemed to sense this, and with a smile brought his face even closer to hers.

'The third option, and my personal favourite is that you keep this on.' again his hand brushed the cross around her neck, 'this and only this, you take everything off. Sadly I seemed to have exhausted your friend here and I still have more basic hungers to satisfy so I offer you this.' His hand moved from the cross and moved slowly to her breast, his palm cupping its firmness, his thumb seeking out her nipple in slow circular movements even through the thick material of her shirt. 'One night.' He whispered 'Give me one night and I will harm neither your friend or you again.' He let loose a low laugh as he felt her nipple, aroused by the attention of his hand become more erect, pressing back into his thumb. She felt a heat rise through her body, sweat appeared on her face and it was all she could do to weekly shake her head. One last show of defiance before the inevitable capitulation. 'You must recognise the irony, a woman of the cloth such as yourself.' Another smile and she caught another sight of his white, strikingly sharp teeth. She shivered as he used his thumb and forefinger, squeezing her nipple though the shirt. 'In order to save your friend you must sacrifice yourself, just like Our Lord, but whereas he sacrificed both his body and blood you get to choose, one or the other'

He leaned forward again, and she realised he was not going to stop, she tensed, bringing her arms up to protect herself but he moved quickly, releasing his hold on her neck and breast he gripped both hands and effortlessly in spite of her struggles raised them above her head where he transferred the grip of one of her arms so that one of his hands held her fast. His free hand then returned her gently massaging her breast. Their new position had the effect that he was now pressing hard against her and again, she was conscious of his hard cock pressing into her. She felt an impulse to move her body, not to escape but to satisfy feelings she could sense welling up inside her.

'Don't deny me one kiss.' He said 'and don't deny that you want it. Even to yourself. That would be a sin, and I think there will be quite enough of those committed before the sun rises.' Again he leaned forward. This time she accepted the kiss, closing her eyes and parting her lips slightly to receive it. His lips were cold, and the shock of this momentarily took her breath away, a chill swept through her body and yet, as the kiss persisted, soft and tender, she felt herself yielding to it. So much so that, when she felt the slight feather like touch of his exploring tongue she willingly opened her mouth wider to allow it access. And when he released her hands, she did not struggle, she simply let them fall to her sides. And allowed him to continue. His mouth moved to her neck, placing small, gentle kisses as she tilted her head to one side, granting him easier access to her long, slender throat. It was only when she felt his hands begin to unbutton her shirt that she finally found her voice:

'Not here.' she gasped, 'I agree, one night and then you leave us alone. One night. But not here.'

'Where then? He asked, releasing her, stepping back.

'My room, across the hall'

He held out his hand in an invitation. 'Then lead the way'. Behind her she felt the dull metallic click of the door unlocking. She took his hand, and quietly led him out of the room, giving her friend one last look.

The room was dominated by large bay windows. Their curtains drawn so that bright moonlight flooded the bedroom, illuminating her possessions. Her room was large but sparsely furnished. The contrast between her room and her friends was striking. Whereas Cassie had managed to make her room look lived in within days of having moved in Becca's still looked as though she was still waiting for the delivery van to bring most of her stuff. The only furnishings were a large bookcase, stacked thick with books, a large dresser, a clothing rail, crowded with clothes and a medium size bed. Above the bed was a cross, fixed to the wall. The room was spotless, everything organised just so. . She released his hand and moved quickly towards the bed, knowing his mind before he spoke. Quietly she took the cross down of the wall. He gave a grunt of satisfaction, which she did not acknowledge.

She knew she was playing for time, stalling while her mind caught up with events, planned a way out both for Cassie and herself. Although a large part of her rational mind refused to accept it she could no longer deny what she faced, a vampire. A monster that had drained her friend close to death and would undoubtedly do likewise to her given the opportunity. For a moment she considered using the large cross in her hands as a weapon. It had power over him, the only think that she was aware of that did. And yet, even as she considered this she crossed the room, opened a drawer in the dresser and placed the cross inside, shutting it firmly.

Her heart was beating so hard she felt sure he could hear it, even though she could sense he hadn't left his position by the door. She was breathless, a dull ache growing in the pit of her stomach. She recognised it as fear but she also knew it to be something else. She looked up, catching her reflection in the mirror. She could make out her face in the moonlight, the light making her face look pale, framed by hair which seemed as black as the night outside. And as she stood there, gazing at herself in the mirror, scarcely recognising herself a dim memory came to her. She remembered being told a story by Cassie. A story of a horror film she had watched where a woman sacrificed herself to a vampire willingly, keeping him occupied until the dawn came sealing his death and hers. Could that be her option?

As if in answer she felt his presence behind her. She had not heard him move and the mirror showed no sign of him even though she could still see herself clearly. She stood, entranced at the incomplete reflection in front of her, by the way her hair seemed to move by its own accord, or by a soft wind blowing it back revealing her long, pale throat. She could have even believed it was the wind, had she not felt his fingers, chilling her skin as they took hold of her dark hair, pulling her head back and to the side. She closed her eyes then, and let loose a long low moan as she felt his mouth trace the outline of her neck from her ear to the nape. His touch like an ice cube being slowly melted over her skin. It was at this point she gave in. Whether it was to save her friend, save her own life or merely to prolong the feel of his touch made no difference. It was over. She relaxed back into his body, felt the hardness of his chest, the rigid tower at his groin and his arms, powerful and unforgiving as they encircled her body, holding her close. She reached around, grasping his hips, eager for the touch of his skin.

His hands moved to her shirt, slowly undoing the buttons, maddening her with the careful and precise he way he undid one then the other. As he set about his work his fingers briefly touched her skin, sending a delightful shiver through her body, she felt goose pimples rise .. His hands eased her shirt from her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Her bra, dark and simple followed afterwards.

'Open your eyes'. The words softly spoken but a command none the less. She opened her eyes, entranced by the eerie image reflected in front of her. The light in the room seemed heightened somehow. The pale light illuminated her clearly. She gazed at her own reflection, her skin pale in the moonlight. She saw her breasts, small but firm and her firm flat belly.