The Feasting

The hour was getting worryingly late; the sun had not yet kissed the horizon, but the moon was troublingly low. I now recognized their skill; I could've left then with perhaps the greatest trial and triumph a vampire had ever endured, but I could not keep myself from them. Bernard was incredible handsome and brilliant, the twins' mystique simply begged me to conquer and discover it, the son of Rasputin was many times greater than any victim I would find in all of Britain, and to devour the sister of the legendary Abraham Van Helsing would secure my name in legend. My name: Alessandra Giuliani, not Camilla Pappano.

I was vain to have used a false name. I've made myself a victim of my own desire. I want the believe my name to be feared, spoken under one's breath with lust, reverence, and terror. But instead Giuliani is still merely the surname of a family doom to be forever peasants when their prized daughter vanished in the night on the eve of her wedding to the prosperous Rossini. I wondered now whether Giuliani would be more recognized as the maiden name of a prosperous husband, or as a feared vampire to rival Ambrosio or Orlock. More likely it would be lost in the annals of time just like Davies.

I was floating now, draining myself to retain the form of mist at such an altitude. The Davies fear was growing however, and once I had enough of an attack plan, I headed back for the chimney. I now came down into the eastern landing on the second-floor. The twins had made the mistake of opening a window on the third-floor, as long as they kept it open, I would be able to take them. I could open windows occasionally, but as soon as I did, they would almost certainly know that I was both inside the house and my location therein.

My dress was still in Adam's room, but I couldn't risk opening the door. Besides, the drafts from this mansion flowing over my bare form aroused in me a carnal instinct to take what I wanted, abandoning decorousness and the constraints of humanity. I crept on all fours up the stairway to decrease the noise of each step. Upon my entering of the third-floor I heard silence from the twins' room. I didn't think the window was closed, but I could hear no breeze. I wasn't sure whether the energy was from the outpour from the window, or merely the fear and ignorance of the boys. If it was from the window, I'd have enough energy to take the two at once with little hassle, but if it was from the boys' cognitive dissonance regarding my location, as soon as I revealed myself, that energy source would drastically shrink.

I decided to put my ear to the door bottom. An unmistakable gush of air flowed onto my cheek. Just as I was prepared to flow under the door, it was slammed open, knocking me harshly into the hall and forcing my hand to deflect a bolt headed straight for me. I couldn't transform this far from the window, I was at the mercy of the twins, who did not seem keen on mercy. I jumped down the stairway just in time to avoid another swift bolt. In a mad dash of self-preservation I threw myself from the nearest window, shattering it, but allowing me to fly back across the estate.

My next attempt took the west chimney, third landing. The twins had descended to the second-floor in pursuit. I saw again those muskets and swords and sabers and spears and stakes. The morning was brightening, and their shadows had shrunk. I took one of the lighter spears from it's perch and formulated part of a plan. Madly I smashed the window upon which the spear had leaned. It boosted my energy as I ran down through the façade rooms, breaking every rolled plate glass window I saw. I ran fiendishly, empowered by the rush of air each strike allowed. My legs were incorporeal by the time the twins caught a glance of me. I took out every south facing window on the top floor and jumped through the final East Wing window.

Bernard, Joseph and Mila seemed to be remaining in the parlor, most likely armed and barricaded. Fredrick and Thaddeus, however, stood staring out of the East window hole, their crossbow knocked to the ground below. It was my chance. In a black gust of wind, I came and pushed them to the ground. I materialized with a bare foot on each one's chest, and laughed heartily in the second afterward when I saw them both look upon my body and their trousers rise in unison. Within moments they grabbed nearby stakes and I kicked first at one's hands, disarming him while the other grabbed my waist from behind. I grabbed his neck and pulled it to my mouth as I raised my legs to strike the other in the chest. Blood streamed down my neck and tits as I drained Thaddeus, biting his lips in a devilish kiss and pulling his body close to mine.

I ducked from Fredrick's next strike and twisted to plant my mouth on his ankle and bite down. I laid the brothers next to each other and rabidly stuck my teeth into both in turns. My hands traversed their most likely virgin bodies and felt everything that no one else had touched before. My bites soon turned to licks as the two lay infatuated and terrified and soon fell out of consciousness.

Their moans sounded through the house as I strolled down the main stairway, the breeze confidently caressing my backside. I took a moment to stretch in my nudity, examine the strength of my body and soul. I decided to postpone the challenge downstairs. I took myself into Bernard's study. The room was lit by tall, newly replaced candles. Alongside volumes of scholarly works was a handwritten paper manuscript on his desk with a note. The note was addressed personally to Bernard Davies, and implored him to edit the included volume while revealing to no one that he was doing so. It was signed 'Aleister Crowley'.

The manuscript was called 'Diary of a Drug Addict', Bernard had crossed out 'Addict' and written 'Fiend' in its stead, with a short note about the stronger and more devilish connotation of 'Fiend'. This struck me as unsavory. While I was only tangentially aware of Crowley's influence in Britain, the revising of a text meant to be a diary seemed wrong, unauthentic, tainted. But then what is authentic. Those who may buy such a work would be only happier for its good quality. The title would sell this, it was different and lustful, a physical embodiment of the beautiful decadence of sin. Why would I want what is real? Because it's so often hidden from me. Our desires are the goals others say we can't have; our lusts are the lusts others create for us. Had Adam Davies' blood tasted so superior to Bill McCarthy's?

I shook my head and decided I must now face what awaited me downstairs, -this manuscript was all too readable in the rising morn; it wouldn't be much longer I could put off my mission if I didn't act now. I jumped through the air and landed outside the front doors. On the back wall of the parlor was a framed quote:

'How wouldst thou shake at Britain's modish tribe,

Dart the quick taunt, and edge the piercing gibe?

Attentive truth and nature to descry,

And pierce each scene with philosophic eye.'

I recognized the piece as a fragment of Samuel Johnson's The Vanity of Human Wishes. I empathized with this family, and in that moment, I couldn't tell whether that made me regret hunting them, or see them as more delectable prey. I didn't think I'd be able to take the three of them together, and each was too steadfast to desert the group. I need something one of them valued. Bernard most likely wouldn't risk his life for anything in his library, and the only thing Joseph and Mila cared for was each other.

A spark of inspiration prompted me down a dark path. I took the greying body of Adam, his mortal force fading as the vampiric gene began to take hold. I cried to Bernard, told him how much he truly needed his brother, that I would allow Bernard to retrieve an antidote from the third-floor storage room and exchange Adam's fate for his own. I knew this would work. Bernard was self-righteous and looked down on his brother, but I saw volumes of Kant among his collection. He would never allow himself to live unaffected while another, a beautiful brother at that, was cursed instead.

Joseph and Mila remained solemn through this event. While it was agreed on some level to be a fair play, an eternal animosity of me was formed in that instant. That caused me some psychic confliction. I didn't believe myself to be incurably evil, yet I did not stop myself from carrying out this morbid exchange. Their thoughts drained me of my delusion of grandeur, made me realize I was a fiend, willing to exploit for my own fulfillment. But day was coming and the time to grieve is the dawn of night. Bernard reverently filled Adam's mouth with the contents of a strange vile. I put a hand to his cheek, looked into his eyes, and tasted the blood of his neck. It was as sweet as ever. I would finish my mission. I would take the two remaining and carve my name into the cliff wall of history's chasm.

I realized soon enough an easier alternative was ever-present, those fires on the yard. I picked a stick from one close to me, tossed it without remorse into the heart of the Davies blockade, and when Mila vehemently ran to fetch water, I took Joseph. The fire didn't spread far, I pinned Joseph and stripped him and ripped the bolt from his crossbow and pushed it up his rectum. The son of Rasputin was nearly limp while I violated him, salivating and running my fangs gently across his neck, tasting the growing fear from him and horror from Mila as she stood motionless watching. I finally stabbed my teeth inside him and pushed that bolt up to the metal point as his moans sent chills throughout my body.

One left, -the woman.

I'd fallen into my desire at this point, air was flowing freely through the manor and she was holding a bucket of ordinary well water. I began one with the smoke before materializing within meters of her. She took off up the stairs, her blonde hair and freshly mature body moving like steam up towards the storage room. I found myself able to make apparitions appear to her. Phantoms plagued every shadow as her fear of me rose to manifest itself in every soft crevice of existence.

I appeared in front of her when she opened the door to the storage room. The wide green eyes delighted me as I walked gently forward, letting my hands only lightly touch her hips and brush her hair and she tried to make her body move to escape. Each minuscule contact made her all the more scared. I had then adopted the evil she had assigned to me, and I had nothing to lose, only lust to gain. I let myself turn into a partial mist, more of a presence as I held her incorporeally against the wall. I bit the right side of my lips as my hands deviously flung away her shirt, brassiere, skirt and panties. I had to kneel down to take off her boots and stockings, but at this point she had mostly accepted her fate, and was only trying to find some pleasure in this experience.

To punctuate a night which had made me question much, I vowed then to give as much pleasure to this woman as possible. Her skin was beautiful; age had decorated her like a finely grilled steak. Her flesh had a firmness to it, a realness and experience that knew what love should feel like. I wrapped my hand around her thigh and planted small kisses up her legs. My hands then grabbed her cheeks and spread them, and I licked graciously across both of her holes. As I moved to her stomach, her heavy breathing and high heartrate was making her ripple like the base of a waterfall. I steadied her with my hands and licked my way up, spending time on both nipples, doing circles and applying suction and squeezing in my fingers the one I didn't have my mouth around. I only kissed her neck, taking my time to be nothing but docile up to her lips.

When I reached there, I wondered how I'd missed her arms, then quickly looked to find them around a rope above her head. As soon as I notice this Mila laughed and pulled the rope. A bell rang loud through the forest, distant cries were heard,

"Alarm!"

"The Davies!"

"Alarm, let's go!"

"The Davies Manor!"

As she continued to laugh I gripped her head with both hands, forced her terrified eyes directly into mine, pushed down her lower lip and sank my fangs into the minuscule veins therein as I pulled her crotch to mine and gyrated on her, letting my nude body vibrate and expel some of that excess energy I'd just taken while I smiled as her moans reverberated into my mouth.

The sweetness was over. Sunlight was streaming through the windows and I could hear manifold footsteps cascading into the manor. My power was great now, the shear amount of blood in my body and fear in the air made me feel invincible. I raced to Adam's room to pick up my dress, finding my hairclip, stocking, and panties there as well. Back in the storage room I put my boots on. As hard footsteps echoed up the turquoise marble stairs, I took my hold on their minds. In every dark corner they saw beasts, forcing their bodies and minds to clash as they thought about the possibilities in this house.

As locals poured into the manor, I became their fear. I became wolves and bats and temptresses and fanged phantoms in every shadow in that house. I was incorporeal, impossible to kill because I was simply no longer one. I was temptation and fear, lust for life and hatred of oppression, the infinite blackness threatening to make the experiences they'd loved meaningless. I was death.

I projected my soul into the shadows of Davies Manor, and the people responded. Their fear overtook them. They let their vulnerabilities manifest and fill their minds, and soon enough each one summoned the volition to change them. None truly desired to fight for the sake of a rich, seclusive family. They retreated to husbands and wives and mistresses and Public Houses to chase what they wanted. There was more love made in that evening than any other in Scarborough.

When night fell, I found myself reliant on the feasting of that night instead of any other energy. The people of Scarborough didn't seem to care for fear on that night; on that night they were content with life. They could've died without complaint. I found myself alone on that night. I supposed I ought to go write something in the history books so people would know my name, but I didn't care for it. I just wanted to feast again, and perhaps in doing so I would increase the maximum utility of this earth, -make people find their desire or live eternally chasing it. I could be happy with that. I could be happy as long as I keep feasting.