High Moon

Now, here ends the story so all the rest is just plain guessing, but I think that the little Indian girl is not an actual girl, she's is the ghost of that girl who died so many years ago. And I think what she granted me is a chance, a chance to avenge myself from the new cruelty that plagues this land..."

Gertrud wants to dismiss what she has heard but the fangs approaching her neck seem far too real.

She screams in terror as the monster drains her of her blood.

6.

After Gertrud disappearance, life in the town has changed completely. People refuse to go out at night. The Grizzly has taken over the carcass of the saloon and has turned it into his own personal den of pleasure and depravation. Old O'Connor grows more anxious day after day, more violent too.

The town is slowly crumbling. The trappers have started avoiding it, preferring other not so cursed settlements to trade their pelts. The herds of cattle avoid the valley as well preferring harsher but less strange routes. The farmer families have packed their possession and taken the road towards greener pastures.

The mysterious rider watches over town every sunset. No one can approach him as he seems to vanish into thin air whenever an attempt to contact him is made. The mad reverend, seeing a sign in this, has started preaching the end of the world asking his thinning flock to repent. But soon he won't have anyone left to listen to his sermons.

The Indian girl has been long forgotten by everyone but still awaiting she knows that her patience will soon pay.

***

Fiona O'Connor is sleeping in her large bed in her room in the paternal Ranch outside town. She dreams of another life; a life back in the east with other girls to hang around and sophisticated gentlemen to court her; a life that could have been, a life full of sun. She also dreams of her mother who has died so many years before under the cruel fists of the father she hates more than anything. She dreams of revenge. She dreams of pleasure and pain combined. She dreams of the mysterious visitor who has come into her room for many nights now. She dreams of the fingers that have explored her, she dreams of the fangs that have deflowered her. She dreams of blood and lust. She dreams, she dreams until she wakes up.

It's still dark outside. She can feel her mistress in the prairie.

She hungers.

She slips out of her bed and undresses. She slips out of her room and into the main hall of the ranch. She slips into the servants' quarter and into the small bed of her black maid. She slips a finger into the swollen virginal lips of the young woman.

Fiona's fangs penetrate the neck of her first victim. The rich warm blood fills her mouth. She wants to bring her to her side so she soon lets her go. She licks the neck clean, savoring the cooling blood. The servant looks at her mistress with adoration and respect. She too wants to be free.

Fiona goes back to her room. Her own mistress is there waiting for her. They kiss. Fiona goes back to sleep, back to her dreams.

Day comes.

***

The maid comes to her mistress' room; she closes the curtains and sits on the bed.

She watches her mistress sleep. She is supposed to look over a sick girl but she knows better. She will protect her mistress against the outside world, she will protect her until the daughter of the house finally grants her freedom. She stands, locks the door and undresses. Her ebony body is covered with tiny marks of her mistress' teeth. She touches them for a while enjoying the delicious pleasure every stroke of her fingers against the scars sends to her pussy.

Wet of sweat and cum she finally lies on the bed.

Her mistress' body is cold against hers but she doesn't mind. Just like her mistress did last night she slips a finger into her mistress' pussy. Like every morning, it's drenched. She looks at her mistress face transform as she works the cold recesses of her intimacy. When finally her mistress comes, the servant avidly licks the delicious juices covering her fingers. With her warm tongue, she then cleans the thighs and slit of the object of her adoration. She covers her with a blanket leaving her to sleep.

For long hours she sits in the darkness in the rocking chair by the door, an old colt resting on her legs. The cold metal of the gun reminds of her mistress's fingers inside her. She knows that soon she'll be granted her wish.

***

Fiona wakes up to the most delicious smell. She's not alone. By the door, her delicious servant is asleep. By the open window her mistress is watching her. The night has finally come, the night her mistress has been promising her for so long. The night she gets to visit her father.

But first they have a sister to bring into the fold.

Dixie walks to the sleeping servant. She caresses the bite marks on her neck. Fiona is behind her, a hand slips over her ass, between her thighs. Dixie bends over and starts licking the dark scars on the sleeping girl's neck. In her sleep, the servant shivers both fearing and expecting what is to come. Fiona's fingers penetrate her mistress. Dixie drinks the waking servant. The servant comes and the two creatures of the night welcome the third one into the sisterhood.

But the night is still very young and the three monsters have a rendezvous they can't miss.

***

Old O'Connor is snoring his evening alcohol in his study when the three girls find him. At first he thinks he is dreaming.

The cold touch of his daughter's tongue on his balls brings back delicious memories of his late wife. The two other girls kneeling in front of him work avidly on his member. Dixie, the little whore he had killed so many months ago, holds down the skin of his prepuce for the black servant to suck the gleaming head. He quickly comes covering the three girls in his seed.

"The dream should end here," he thinks satisfied.

But the dream doesn't end. The three beautiful girls soon turn into terrible demons. Their traits are deformed by hate, a hate he thought he was the only one capable of. He would love to scream, but he can't, the sounds dies in the back of his throat as the fangs start tearing his flesh. The first bite brings bliss; the monsters avidity soon takes the pleasure away leaving only the cold realization of his impending death.

He finally screams his terror.

But it is too late.

The last image he takes away to hell with him is the face of his daughter covered in his blood.

A little while later, the Indian girl observes as the O'Connor Ranch burns into the night.

***

The full moon is at its highest point in the sky.

The moon bathes the town in its terrible light.

A woman wearing a hat and a large poncho stands on one end of the street a hand hovering near a shiny peacemaker.

A very large man faces her on the other end of the street, his hand on the cross of his revolver.

Around them, tens of pale figures wait for the draw.

It is high moon.

The Indian girl's won't have to wait much longer anymore. She's finally happy.

But what happens next doesn't matter.

This is the end of this story, the story of a town with no name, the story of a terrible vengeance, the sad ballad of Dixie McCreary.