Huntress of the Fallen

Susanna jumped out of her wire patio chair with both hands covering her mouth in a vain attempt at stifling her uncontrollable laughter. As hard as she tried, Susanna failed to keep her high-pitched tittering from erupting full-blown into an evil witch's exaggerated cackle. The other patrons of the café stared wide-eyed at her maniacal laughter but Susanna was so far above them now she couldn't care less what these fools thought of her. These petty mortals who had yet to experience the sweet, succulent kisses of her Mistresses and Masters were mere insects, filthy cockroaches worthy only of being squished and stomped underfoot.

A server yelled angrily at Susanna and grabbed at her arm but she brushed him aside and departed without bothering to settle her check first. Susanna was far too intent on her blonde and brunette targets to concern herself with such trivialities. Since Vânătorul proclaimed her presence in this city with all the subtlety of a bucket of blood splashed across an unpainted canvas, every familiar had been set to hunt down her whereabouts during the daylight hours. What providence that the blonde strumpet nearly fell right into Susanna's lap!

Susanna's job afforded her some excellent opportunities to search the city by day but thus far she had been regrettably unable to catch even a whiff of the infamous vampire slayer. Her Masters and Mistresses made Susanna pay dearly for those repeated failures, yes they surely did, though the pain was oh so sweet. But today when Susanna stopped for an after-work aperitif she spotted the unmistakable blonde hair of their adversary at the table directly across from her. The harlot sitting with Vânătorul seemed engaged in a serious conversation with the Huntress, keeping the women distracted from noticing Susanna's menacing glare.

Susanna had to admit the olive-skinned vixen that Vânătorul had chosen for her whore was one sexy piece of meat. She certainly wouldn't mind watching that long tongue and those luscious plump lips slurping and sucking on her cunt and eating out of her asshole. Mistress would love playing with her so much, yes she would, and wouldn't Susanna be rewarded mightily for providing such a fine gift? Maybe she'd even deliver her wrapped up in a pretty little bow. Susanna soiled herself at the thought.

Susanna followed a reasonable distance behind the two women while they walked close together entirely oblivious of their stalker. She giggled incessantly watching them hold hands and whisper sweet nothings in each other's ear.

How cute! Susanna thought. Vânătorul has found a nice slut-slave to serve her and keep her warm at night! I wish I had a slut-slave. Maybe Mistress will reward me with one to keep for my very own.

Susanna had once been a normal person, average in every way. Plain, pimply face. Plain, stringy blonde hair. Plain, shapeless body. Disgusting. She had become so much greater and happier since abandoning her old life. She dyed her yellow hair a night-black color highlighted with white streaks and painted her face with dark, smoky makeup rimming her eyelids and black lipstick over her mouth. Susanna's face had paled like bleach and her malnourished body slimmed down considerably until she assumed a far more desirable shape, though the paunch of her belly and her jiggly thighs and ass never quite reduced in size like the rest of her body. Nowadays she only wore fashionable black clothing and never stepped foot outdoors without the wide, lacy black choker that covered her throat every hour of the day. Every hour except during mealtimes, of course.

Despite this sexy, vampy new look, there was something unnatural and off-putting about Susanna that repelled all those except for the lonely, the desperate, and the drunk or drug-addled. Perhaps it was the crazed look in her eyes or the foul aspects of her warped personality that made her repulsive to others. An even more likely reason for Susanna's abhorrence was her revolting tendency to consume any worm, insect, or rodent she came across. Susanna preferred swallowing these treats alive and mostly unchewed so she could feel their delightful wriggling as they slipped down her throat then their helplessly flailing at being dissolved in her stomach acid. Oh great, now she was giggling and being stared at again.

Fortunately, Susanna's delivery work only required her to interact with others in short bursts and her eccentricities hadn't cost her gainful employment yet. Her job also afforded Susanna prime opportunities to identify and target the loneliest and most vulnerable members of society, the ones who wouldn't be missed if they were to suddenly disappear from their homes in the night.

Susanna maintained her fair distance behind the happy couple while trying her best to look inconspicuous, a hard thing when failing to contain the gleeful squeals exuding from her throat as she watched the Huntress arm-in-arm with her girlfriend. They eventually stopped at one of the University buildings and bade each other goodbye with a fond farewell. The Italian slut leaned towards Vânătorul begging for a kiss on the lips but Vânătorul settled for pecking her on the cheek which the other woman returned in kind. They held each other in an affectionate, lingering embrace before separating.

Susanna peeped unnoticed behind an unlit lamppost as the Italian woman entered the college she presumably worked in while the Huntress ducked into the nearest alleyway between two buildings. Susanna tried following her but Vânătorul had already disappeared into the evening shadows. Still, this was a momentous victory indeed.

Passersby stared at Susanna with disgust as she chortled like a rabid hyena and scratched at the blemished skin of her face and arms like a madwoman. She couldn't wait to tell Mistress and her Masters what she'd discovered, especially Mistress who was still nursing the wound of her permanent disfigurement that she received a few nights ago. If Susanna delivered Vânătorul and her lover into their taloned clutches her beloved lords and lady would surely reward her loyal service with the power and immortality promised to Susanna since the first time they ever kissed her on the neck.

Once Susanna found her way to the nearest House of Night, she punched a code in on the digital keypad outside the deceptively modern exterior. She looked back and forth down both sides of the street before entering through the metallic machine-locked front door. This one was the smallest of all the Houses, little more than an untended chamber that led directly to the Necropolis entrance. Susanna reached down the back of her pants and underwear then grunted in discomfort as she dug her fingers deep into her asshole. She rooted around inside there for a while until Susanna retrieved the plastic baggie she stuffed up her rectum earlier.

Can never be too careful, Susanna thought with a girlish giggle as she sniffed the tips of her stinky fingers then licked them clean of filth.

The balled-up plastic lining Susanna pulled out of her ass was used to conceal the various pills and packets of powder Susanna used on unsuspecting patrons at bars, restaurants, and clubs when her Mistress needed a quick, simple meal. Once her prey's sense of reality and self-preservation had been thoroughly neutralized they were easily led straight into the wondrous embrace of Susanna's Mistress. Sometimes Mistress even let Susanna play with her dinner before they expired. Such a kind, loving Mistress to gift Susanna with so many different mouths, cocks, and cunts to use for her own sick gratification.

The heaviest item wrapped inside the shit-stained bag was an ancient-looking iron key with the bow fashioned in the image of a grinning skull. While there were other, more invasive ways to enter the Necropolis, Susanna considered the old-fashioned lock-and-key to be the least wasteful method. She preferred to save her blood for when her Masters and Mistresses could indulge in it.

With a grin that matched that of the hideous object held in her hand, Susanna inserted the key in a hidden lock cleverly concealed within the House of Night. The entrance opened with a tormented groan of rock scraping against metal and Susanna began her long descent down into the underworld.

+++++

In the twilight hours just before dawn, as the night began its slow transition from starry black to the bluish-grey streaks of breaking day, Bianca crouched on the ledge outside the window of her rented apartment and skillfully pried open the glass with nary a sound made. She could afford the penthouse suite of the most expensive hotel in Venice but preferred to stay someplace less ostentatious when the hunt was afoot.

After prying the glass apart, Bianca made the heavy window curtains billow as she bounded within and landed silently on the balls of her feet. The apartment she lodged in was simply arranged and furnished with only a kitchen, a small living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom with a washer and dryer. Bianca replaced Viteza within her lockable case in the coat closet then gave a feline stretch and yawn as she worked out all the kinks in her joints and muscles built up from a long evening of leaping across rooftops and hanging from balconies.

Though Bianca hardly expected to bag a kill every night, she was disappointed in the failure of this evening's hunt. She prowled the dark in-between spaces of the city for hours but the unnatural horrors she sought had retreated to their underground hiding places to lick their wounds after the ambush outside the nightclub.

Staying focused on her mission had been nearly impossible this evening and figuring the reason why was not exactly difficult. Bianca should have been staking out Dark Houses and trying to determine a way below them but all her thoughts turned inevitably to Vittoria; the gentle touch of her hand, her easily-amused smile, the complementary way her ebullience contrasted Bianca's more dour personality. Vittoria made Bianca feel happy and alive whenever they were together, something Bianca couldn't even say she'd experienced with Mirela.

Ah, why didn't you kiss her when she bade you farewell outside the Universitad, Bianca thought with regret. The way her lips puckered expectantly while she wore that hopeful look in her eyes... You damn fool!

Dangerous, countered a conscientious voice inside Bianca's head. She's a target now. It's only a matter of time before Vittoria meets the same fate as everyone you've ever loved.

That's about enough from you, Bianca thought resentfully as she banished her misgivings and all self-criticism to the silent recesses in the back corner of her mind.

Bianca planned on slumbering through most of the morning then in the early afternoon she would be back at it with Vittoria. She couldn't wait! Bianca felt some guilt knowing that with hours left until sunrise the population of the city remained vulnerable to attack while she rested. She had long ago accepted the impossibility of her being everywhere at once in a city of this size. Assaults and murders might occur in the meantime but this nightmare would never end until Bianca had rooted out the location of the vampire cabal's lair. Rescuing endangered citizens was all well and good but her focus must be intent on eliminating the threat at its source.

Bianca took off the spiky-soled slippers she used for dulling her footfalls and helping grip ledges and the sides of buildings and haphazardly tossed them into the living room. She removed every piece of her dark athletic wear until the only clothing that remained was the sports bra containing her heavy, bouncing bosoms and a utilitarian pair of grey cotton briefs. Bianca walked groggily into her bedroom, eager for sleep, and flipped the light switch beside the door to activate the bedside lamp. Bianca stopped short when she discovered a woman already standing inside her room. Her breath caught and a sudden chill pricked her skin with goosepimples.

Across from Bianca was the unmistakable back profile of Mirela facing the wall, silent and deathly still. She was dressed in a gorgeous white dress embroidered with brown and gold patterns which Bianca remembered her sister wearing from their childhood. Mirela's hair was done up in a plain, sensible bun just how Bianca recalled it being when they were teenagers. Instead of a pair of matching clogs, Mirela wore comfortably brown slippers as if she were preparing to retire for the evening.

"Will you never leave me in peace?" Bianca screamed at the apparition. "Away with you, ghost! Your false nature mocks the memory of my beloved sister!"

The figure said nothing, as usual. She just kept staring at the empty wall without saying a word. Bianca's fury at being toyed with by a figment of her own imagination finally exploded and she stomped over to the phantom prepared to battle a ghost if necessary. Bianca reached for Mirela's shoulder to whip her around and face her but was shocked when she felt real, solid flesh beneath her fingers. Not only solid but enticingly soft and warm as well.

As soon as Bianca's fingers grazed her shoulder, Mirela spun herself around so rapidly that Bianca jumped backward with a yelp of surprise. The beautiful woman fixed her memorable brown eyes upon Bianca as she advanced toward her. There was nothing menacing about this phantasm, however. In fact, Bianca couldn't help thinking about how lovely her sister looked. This was not the dark, tortured thing Bianca reunited with at the very end of the vampire Queen's dismally long lifetime. This was a healthy woman in the prime of her years whose youthful beauty had only just ripened into maturity.

"Finally!" Mirela shouted as she threw her hands up in exasperation. "I've been waiting forever for you to actually talk to me."

Despite her frustrated tone, Mirela's voice sounded as sweet and melodious as the ringing chimes of a bell. How sorely Bianca had longed to hear that mellifluous noise filling her ears again! Listening to that familiar voice made Bianca's knees quake and all thoughts of Vittoria fled from her mind.

Mirela poked Bianca's chest in the firm, bony spot right above her breasts and said with accusation, "You've been ignoring me, sister. I should spank you like Mama did for using such impolite manners."

Bianca looked down at the unbelievable firmness of Mirela's finger pressing against her skin. This can't be happening! Bianca thought. How can I possibly be feeling this? I watched you die, sister!

"What are you doing here, Mirela?" Bianca whimpered like a child. "Will your spirit never leave me in peace?"

"I've been trying to catch your attention for years," Mirela groused. "Silly me, thinking you might actually still be in love with me."

"As if I could stop!" Bianca contended. "You're the greatest love of my life and no one will ever take your place."

"You sure have a funny way of showing your love," Mirela said as she reached out and rubbed a strand of Bianca's short hair between her fingers. Bianca's entire body tingled as Mirela's fingers stroked the back of her neck on the erogenous zone that her sister had incidentally been the first to discover.

"I liked your old hair better," Mirela said with disappointment. "Such a pity that you cut it short now. Your hair is so pretty when it's long."

Disregarding her deepest yearnings, Bianca flinched away from the touch she so desired rather than leaning into the hand stroking her hair. Bianca swiftly retreated from the sinful promises of those soft caresses before she succumbed to her sister's temptations.

"I held you in my arms as you died, Mellie. I watched your eternal spirit ascend to the heavens. How are you still here?"

"I'm not sure I am here," Mirela said with a thoughtful tilt of her head. "Not truly, anyway."

"What the hell are you then?" Bianca wailed.

Bianca kept having to fight the irresistible urge to throw her arms around Mirela and clutch her tightly, to smell her sister's hair and kiss every last freckle and mole she'd memorized on that gorgeous body. There was a time when Bianca wouldn't have hesitated a second before tearing apart Mirela's dress to reveal whether her sister still looked as incredible underneath her clothing as Bianca remembered.

"I believe I'm some kind of construct," Mirela answered, her index fingertip indenting her chin in a thoughtful pose. "An amalgam of Mirela's eternal soul that has combined with all your thoughts and memories of her."

"I don't understand, Mellie," Bianca replied.

"The ritual summoning that captured the demon who then possessed you required that your soul be splintered apart," Mirela explained. "Even after I exorcised the demon Zazzazzural from your body and soul, a piece of your spirit remained missing. When I died in your arms, an infinitesimally small fragment of my soul filled the missing gap in yours. Quite by accident, I believe. I never would have done so intentionally.

Mirela's true spirit went... wherever spirits go once they've transcended the mortal realm. I honestly have no idea what happens in the afterlife, my knowledge only extends up to when Mirela was still living. Yet even though she's gone, I remain alive as a part of you. A being constructed from a shard of Mirela's soul and charged by your most perfect memories of her."

"So you aren't real, after all," Bianca concluded. "As I suspected all along, your hauntings were entirely of my own mind's invention."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm just as real as you are," Mirela assured Bianca as she reached out to stroke the bare skin of Bianca's arm. This time Bianca didn't flinch away.

Assured by now that Bianca wouldn't automatically withdraw from her embrace, Mirela leaned in close and brushed her lips over her sister's mouth. Like always, Bianca was helpless to resist this magnificent woman. She pressed back against Mirela's mouth until their lips locked in a passionate, lingering kiss. Bianca touched the strands of hair spilling out of Mirela's bun and moaned at the familiar softness of those brown locks running between her fingers. Mirela gently gripped Bianca's face as their intimacy grew more ardent.

Like so many other times since they both reached pubescence, Mirela's tongue slid between Bianca's parted lips until the siblings experienced the intense warmth and moisture of their mouths becoming glued together. Bianca sucked hard on Mirela's tongue until it became sore, allowing her sister no chance for retreat, then only relinquished her unrelenting hold when her turn came to explore the interior of her sister's mouth.

Kissing Mirela felt as natural as breathing. The sense of home and belonging that eluded Bianca through these last lonely years returned to her the moment their lips met. Her home would always be here, wherever her true love resided. She belonged in Mirela's arms, now and forever.

When Mirela and Bianca finally separated, sticky-wet strands of glistening saliva connected their lips as if their mouths refused to relinquish their combining. Bianca shuddered and sweat feverishly while Mirela stared mad with lust for her younger sister, a look that told Bianca she had no chance of leaving this room without getting fucked.

"Did that feel real?" Mirela asked with a wicked smile.

"Yes, Mellie," Bianca answered breathlessly, her heart and mind reeling from the crazed passion that no lover had ever matched. There was simply no replacing Mirela's delicious and delightful enthusiasm once she'd resolved to make love to her younger sibling.

"Make love to me the way we used to," Mirela begged. "Let our bodies become as one again. I've watched you silently for so long, Bianca. I've seen you cry yourself to sleep, still mourning my loss. I'm here to tell you that I've never left, that I'll always be with you. Our love is so great that not even death could keep us apart."