tagErotic HorrorSons of the Evening Star

Sons of the Evening Star


Frankie stepped out of the shower and quickly toweled off. She didn't bother to blow dry her long dark hair because the humidity in the air would just curl it up anyways. She put some basic make up on her face and threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top. Glancing in the bathroom mirror quickly, she was happy with the results. The tank top and shorts highlighted her best features, her long toned legs and her buxom chest. She tossed her laundry in the hamper and walked out of the bathroom and back into the suite she had been given.

Her plan was simple, she had been cooped up in this big house for too long. Alex had told her that it was for her own good. After all, once the word had gotten out that the Awakening ceremony was finally about to take place, everyone in his world was clamoring to try and see the vampire world's best kept secret.


She didn't really blame him for wanting to keep her safe with the wars still raging between the clans but she just had to get some fresh air.

However, Frankie didn't have a chance to even step out of her room because when she opened up the door, she was ambushed. She just managed to let out a yelp before her attackers were on top of her. She vaguely recognized the two men, she had seen them earlier this week from her window. They had been completing yard work on the grounds of the estate and they still wore the green jump suits with their names embroidered on the left side.

The one named "Simon" pushed her roughly back into the room and caused Frankie to lose her footing and she hit the floor with a thud that knocked the air from her lungs. "Marco", the burly, stupid looking one held Frankie down while Simon placed a wet cloth over her mouth. The strong smell of chloroform assailed her nostrils and made her eyes water.

She fought desperately, but the chloroform was working fast and her arms and legs became as heavy as boulders and her eyelids started to droop down. Just as Frankie's mind was being sucked down into a dark oblivion, she heard them speak.

"What are we going to do with her now?"

"Marco," Simon, the apparent brains of this kidnapping began, "WE won't have to do anything with her. But my guess is that THEY will make her wish that she was dead."


When Frankie opened her eyes she saw nothing but blackness. The fear of being left for dead in a dank pit, alone in the dark would normally have terrified her beyond comprehension, except that at this very moment her main concern was the extremely foul taste in her mouth.

Somebody, probably those bastard gardeners, Simon and Marco, had gagged her with what felt like a filthy rag, or a dirty sock. She choked at the realization, and tried hard not to throw up, as she attempted to spit the objectionable item from her mouth.

Unfortunately, it didn't work because she realized that something was holding it in, and the more she wriggled her mouth, the more obvious the huge piece of tape became. She gagged again and felt the bile begin to rise up her throat and she started pulling hard on the bindings that bound her feet and hands to what felt like a cold metal chair. But after struggling for a minute, she stopped fighting and let out a small whimper. There was no way to get loose and pulling against the ties was only succeeding in making her wrists raw and bloody.

So Frankie did the only thing left in her power to do. She cried. Hot tears ran down her face and muffled sobs echoed around the room as her body was racked with her unabashed meltdown. After all, she thought to herself, there is no one here to see me or hear me in the dark.

"The boss is on his way to see you." A tired male voice whispered somewhere close to Frankie's ear.

She screamed out in shock, the gag muffling her piercing shriek and she would have jumped right out of her chair if she hadn't been strapped in. Someone had been in the room with her the entire time and she hadn't sensed it.

Just Great! Frankie thought to herself. The head of what she could only assume was the opposite side of the war she had now become embroiled in, was on his way to see her. She was probably going to be killed...or worse.

She cursed the gardeners silently in her head and swore that if she ever saw them again she would be sure to pay them back, in kind. There were no verifiable ways for her to tell what time it was now, but she estimated that she had been unconscious for several hours. Alex and the rest of the residents from the estate where she had been staying were probably aware of her absence now, but without any evidence that she had left the compound in the hands of kidnappers, how was he or anyone to know that she hadn't just decided to leave on her own?

No one would be rescuing me.

The thought slithered across Frankie's mind and the realization that she was all alone caused a sudden panic that threatened to deprive her of what little air she was able to breathe freely. She fought back against the blackness that began to spot across her vision and concentrated on calming her erratic heartbeats.

She looked around again. She couldn't tell for sure but the room felt large and barren. She couldn't even see a shadow belonging to the mysterious male voice but she knew that he was still behind her, somewhere in the dark.

Suddenly, there were several loud raps at the door. My inquisitors, Frankie thought glumly.

The door swung open and the dim light of the hallway illuminated the shadowy outline of five men. They entered the room and joined her silent sentinel.

Six against one, she thought, I am so dead!

"Jesu Miguel! I know WE can see, but why don't you enlighten our guests," said one of the shadowy figures on the far right.

Flick! The neon lights hummed into life. Frankie blinked and her eyes watered, her eyelids closed shut instinctively trying to ease the stinging.

When she was able to open them again, she evaluated her captors. Standing slightly behind the others on the left hand side, were the two gardeners who had ambushed her back at the estate. A barely audible hiss, like a predator finally sighting its prey, escaped her throat when she saw them and Frankie heard a low chuckle in response, but she could not see who it had come from.

Miguel, the creepy guard, stood the farthest away on the left, next to the light switch. He was shorter than the rest, his head was shaved bald and tattoos covered his naked torso. They were made up of intricate designs that enhanced his sculpted chest and highlighted his pale caramel colored skin.

Gods, he was beautiful! In fact, they were all beautiful with the exception of the gardeners.

But it was the man standing on the far right, the one whom she assumed had requested the lights be turned on who shocked her the most. He could have been Frankie's twin brother! Her ridiculously good looking twin brother, she corrected mentally. His hair was a dark and shiny obsidian, cut short and styled to look a little messy. His eyes were greener than hers, more pure, like sparkling emeralds and his expression was one of amusement, rather than intimidation and he gave Frankie a quick grin when he caught her staring. Meeting his gaze caused her to blush involuntarily. In fact, his look made her body start to tingle and she could feel her arousal start to pool between her legs, this caused her cheeks to burn and she cast her eyes to the floor in embarrassment.

The remaining two men were more of what she had been expecting. They looked Italian by descent and they were pale like the other two, but they had a hint of olive color underneath. Both had chestnut brown hair, and the one in the back was slightly shorter and stockier. The man standing in the front of everyone and the closest to Frankie must be the Boss she thought.

Yes... she concluded everyone seemed to be waiting for him to speak.

The longer the silence lasted the more Frankie realized that she should be afraid. Despite his good looks, the leader's eyes were cold, soulless and focused solely on her. He put his hand out beside him, palm side up and his stockier shadow companion placed a huge knife into it. Then he began to walk forward.

Frankie desperately wanted to shut her eyes but they were locked onto his. She kept looking for some inkling of his intentions as he drew ever closer, but he was a blank slate. When he finally stopped in front of her, he ran the flat side of the blade down her cheek millimeter by millimeter. The cold steel and her own fear coursing the adrenaline through her system made her shiver and squeak out a weak whimper. A smile crossed his perfectly formed lips and he pulled the blade away satisfied that his point had been made. He was in charge and he held Frankie's life in his hands.

Then faster than her eyes could follow he flicked the knife through the plastic ties and released her hands and feet and then looking her straight in the eyes, he savagely ripped the tape off from across her mouth. Frankie cried out in pain and shock from the brutality of the tape being ripped away from her tender skin. When she saw the pleasure that her agony was providing, she fell silent and wiped away the tears with the back of her newly freed hands.

"I have some questions." He said looking at her. Then he turned and began to return to his original place with the others and then added, looking directly at the gardeners, "Remind me again, why I am holding a hostage?"

The idiots both had the audacity to look startled. They obviously had been under the impression that their roles in this disaster were over.

"Uhhh...," Simon started, while trying to wipe the worried lines from his face. "Uh...well, like Marco and I explained earlier," he said stammering. "We saw her a few days ago...and after asking around at the main house about who she was...we found out that Alex brought her home with him last week and that he had installed her in the master suite." Then he paused to emphasize his final statement. "No one has ever been given the master suite!" Simon concluded.

The leader's eyes narrowed as he listened to the pathetic explanation. "Still...why did you bring her HERE?" He asked them, his voice hardening.

Simon and Marco were panicked now. They could sense, as Frankie could, that bringing her to this particular location had made them a liability.

"Simon...?" Marco, the weak one, whined to his friend.

Simon looked back and forth, from Frankie to the leader, and then back to his terror stricken friend.

"Michael," he began, staring at the leader. "She must be useful to you in a thousand ways!"

While pleading his case, Simon had begun backing away from the leader, Michael, and had come within arm's reach, in front of Frankie and she decided to take her only opportunity for revenge. Without leaving the chair, she kicked her legs up hard between Simon's legs, hitting him squarely in the crown jewels. He crumpled, like a sack of potatoes, letting out a surprised and pain-filled scream. She kicked again and this time her feet connected with his head and she sent him sprawling back towards Michael.

The pitiful Marco looked up at her angrily and Frankie smiled widely at him, because she had enjoyed every moment of that.

"You Fucking Bitch!" Marco spat, as he lunged at her.

Marco was quick, but Michael was quicker. Michael grabbed the weakling by the scruff of the neck and threw him back towards his injured friend.

Michael was terrifying when he was truly angry. He was done with these two idiots, Frankie was sure.

"Miguel, Antonio," he barked. "Alleviate me of this headache." He said gesturing with his hand at the pile of tangled limbs that was made up of the two gardeners.

Frankie wanted to close her eyes. She hated Simon and Marco, but she didn't want to watch them die. Miguel and Antonio leaped into action and were beside the gardeners within a second. It was as if the space that had separated them didn't exist. They picked up the gardeners like rag-dolls, despite their loud protests.

Michael was now watching the gardeners intently to make sure his orders were followed. The only one who hadn't moved from his original position yet, was Frankie's twin. He was still standing next to the doorway, chuckling to himself. Her revenge on Simon had amused him and he hadn't stopped laughing yet. He was completely oblivious to the violence which was about to take place. The desire to keep her eyes on him and imagine that no one else existed was enormous. She wanted to be able to laugh with him, but her curiosity made her turn her head back.

She had only looked away for a moment, but it was enough. The screams had started and it was like driving past a big accident on the highway, you just couldn't look away. At first, her eyes didn't comprehend what she was seeing. It was almost like the gardeners were being embraced by the larger men. Except it wasn't a loving embrace, and the screams were getting louder. Simon's head was twisted at an odd angle and his hands were clawing at Miguel's bald head. He was trying to find a hand hold that didn't exist. Marco had gone limp in Antonio's burly arms and Frankie assumed that he had passed out, his screams were silent now.

Frankie was transfixed. It was one thing knowing that Vampires existed. It was another to watch them brutally drain the life from someone. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and at some point Michael had stopped watching the gardeners and was now watching her reaction to the massacre. When the bodies hit the concrete and a single drop of blood spilled off of Simon's corpse and splashed onto the grey floor, Frankie came out of her trance. She felt sick. She looked up, and her eyes were met by Michael's cold, vacant and calculating stare.

"Well Francesca," Michael began, shocking her by using her full name. "I believe it is in my best interests to keep you alive...for now." He stared at her body with a mix of lust and violence, which chilled her to the bone. "You may prove more useful than I originally thought."

Frankie forced herself to smile back at him, swallowing the lump now forming in her throat. Staying on Michael's good side seemed like the best plan. He began to turn away from her again and Frankie was seized with a desperate sense of panic at the thought of being left in her current situation and she decided to see just how far his goodwill would get her.

"Do I have to stay in this room?" Frankie asked quietly, looking up at him with her most timid gaze. "Maybe there is somewhere more comfortable..."

Then she added a 'please' in her best small and fragile voice. She was doing her best to try and convince them that she wasn't capable and she was hoping that maybe they would underestimate her and leave her unattended. Maybe she could escape.

Michael looked at her, something had flashed across his eyes when she had added the 'please' to her whimpering request, he had enjoyed the taste of her begging and he took a second to look around at the bare and clinical room. It was obviously a room that they normally used for interrogation, torture or for a prison. The hard metal chair that was still occupied by Frankie, was the only furnishing.

"Miguel, Antonio," Michael spoke. "Go and let the others know that we will have a human female guest in the house and that she is to remain unsullied, on my orders. I need her to be kept in one piece if I am going to use her as a bargaining chip against Alex."

Miguel and Antonio both looked at Michael with unbelieving eyes. Frankie guessed that he had never before forbidden anyone from doing what they wished with a human. They began to open their mouths to protest.

"I will not tolerate disobedience!" Michael snarled. "She will remain unsullied! For Now."

Frankie shivered involuntarily. Michael was truly horrifying in that moment and she didn't think that he was showing even half of his true rage. Miguel and Antonio understood that pushing Michael was not an option at the moment and they turned and left in a blur of speed. Then Michael turned to leave as well.

"Chase," he called over his shoulder addressing her twin. "You will guard our bargaining chip yourself. You know where she will be comfortable."

With his final orders issued, Michael disappeared. Frankie remained alone with Chase and the two bodies. She tried to not look completely crestfallen. She realized that she had not fooled anyone.

Michael knew he couldn't leave her unguarded. For several reasons it seemed. One - he didn't want his one possible piece of leverage to escape. And Two - he wouldn't risk her being ruined by one of his cronies. That was a task she could only assume that he wished to accomplish himself.

Then without warning Francesca started to laugh and once she started, she could not ebb the flow. Everything that had just happened, caused her to be consumed by the hysteria. She couldn't help it, she had always laughed when she was scared. And with the adrenaline of fear still coursing through her veins, she was definitely scared and probably lightheaded too, she hadn't eaten in hours.

"You have an odd sense of humor." Chase said flatly.

"Not Really." She replied, holding her giggles back for a second and matching her tone to his.

"Maybe not odd then, but at the very least macabre." Chase corrected. "Not too many people, would start laughing right after they were almost killed. Or, when they were still in the company of killers." He added, his tone serious.

Frankie couldn't help it and she started laughing again, harder this time. Her laughter was racking her body, releasing the stress of her fear and when she saw how annoyed Chase looked, she doubled over and gasped for breath as the tears ran down her cheeks and her body convulsed with laughter.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She managed to choke out, while stifling her laughter. "It's just a bad reaction."

Finally, he seemed to understand and it was Chase's turn to laugh and Frankie smiled, his laugh was the contagious kind. When Chase smiled, like he was now, he was more spectacular than ever. Frankie gazed at him and felt her body start to respond to his beauty again. Her nipples hardened and she felt a current run itself through her body and settle between her thighs.

She shook herself mentally. She should be terrified of this man. He would probably kill her, rather than do anything else to her.

Chase had stopped laughing and was watching Frankie intently, with his familiar smirk. She blushed under his gaze and dropped her eyes to the floor.

Then he reached out his hand, inviting her to take it and follow him. She stepped over the bodies of the gardeners, making sure to avert her eyes and put her hand into his. His skin felt cool against her own. Pleasantly cool. Her body responded again, flushing her cheeks red and raising goose-bumps all over her flesh. Chase's smile widened. He knew what his touch was doing to her and he was enjoying it all a little too much.

"It will be faster to get to your new room if you hold onto me and close your eyes." He began. Then he added with a wink, "I have a blindfold, if you prefer."

Frankie smiled wryly at his teasing and throwing caution to the wind she walked boldly into his arms and closed her eyes.

Being wrapped in Chase's arms felt like being submerged in a cool bath. Frankie realized that water and Chase's body, had a lot in common. Both could be forgiving or hard like rocks, depending on how they were used. There was immense strength behind both, like being caught by a powerful ocean wave and they could both be scary and dangerous, if you didn't give them the proper respect.

When Chase's body yielded to her own, she pressed up hard against him and felt his arms tighten the circle around her. Frankie felt safe and she tried to rationalize that it was because she was being wrapped up by a kind of invincibility. But in truth, it was because he was a man and she was a woman and it just felt right.

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byQueenOfValhalla© 2 comments/ 9597 views/ 18 favorites

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