0 comments/ 5293 views/ 1 favorites Fangs By: CaptainJames I have known death. I do not wish to misconstrue my meaning; I do not mean that I have seen the specter of death (if one exists), or that I have glimpsed the meaning of it as some seek to grasp the meaning of life. Rather, when I say that I have known death, I mean that I have known it intimately, like a lover comes to know the body of his partner as well as his own. Over the course of my life, I have become well acquainted with death; I have come to know her supple curves, her touch, have come to recognize her scent as I seek her comfort on a long, cold night. Death as a lover—a curious notion, to be sure. Not so curious, I suppose, when the nature of my life, or lack thereof, is taken into account. I cannot take a real lover without first feeding, due to a cruel trick of the anatomy that can make it rather difficult to achieve a state of arousal. Due to this unfortunate aspect of my current existence, sexual contact with others (human or not) can be a rare prospect indeed for my kind. And thus the preoccupation with death begins to be illuminated. It is not only this, however; death is our livelihood. We are predatory beings by nature, and we cannot survive without feeding on others. The first time I killed a human, a sense of guilt was curiously absent during the act itself; even at that early stage, I could already feel my heart hardening to the thought of killing humans. I felt little pity for the poor devil I had sucked dry, and even less as time went on. A note about being turned. It is a part of our beliefs that the one who turns you is responsible for your education as a member of our dark fraternity, such as it is. Education is a heavy burden, and thus you learn not to turn humans lightly. Most people (myself included) are turned by mistake; being careless and not sucking all of the lifeblood out of your victim will turn them (and give you a harsh lesson about being diligent in your killing). I was turned the night President Lincoln was shot. People always say they still remember where they were when they heard Jack Kennedy had been shot; I have had the dubious honor of being alive for three presidential assassinations, but the only one the above has held true for is the most recent. Perhaps humans have a greater capacity for empathy than we do, and we damned souls experience death firsthand regularly. But then, I knew Jack and Bobby Kennedy personally, and both their deaths rocked me to the core. No young man should have to die for his political beliefs, in war or peace. I was turned by a woman named Gabriela—at turns my teacher, my taskmaster, even my lover, after a fashion. Despite her pallid complexion, a commonality all who possess our damned souls share, Gabriela still had dusky, olive-kissed skin, complimenting her ample curves and her long sable curls beautifully. She was glorious, the most beautiful creature I've ever been with—alive or dead. Gabriela. I still savor saying her name. I love the way the three mellifluous syllables move across my tongue, like caressing a lover's bountiful charms. Gabriela. My muse. Gabriela introduced me to this world; she shared first the mystery of death with me, and then the wonder of what comes next. We are not so much dead, though, as we are caught in a sort of limbo between waking life and this nightmarish dream I now live. I cannot claim a level of authority on the existence of an almighty God or our immortal soul, but I can say that I do know beyond the shadow of a doubt that Hell exists, and that our kind live it every day. The first person I killed was a child. I do not take pride in this, but nor do I apologize for it. The simple fact is, children are much easier to kill than adults, and a young vampire may sustain himself on less blood; in other words, an adult may have too much blood to take in (which can lead to inadvertently turning your victim). The child was small for his age, no more than eight or nine. He was sickly, pitifully thin, and his unruly mop of white-blond curls hung in his face as he walked home in the chilly Baltimore rain. We followed him, watching him stumble and cough as the cold November rain soaked through his clothes. There are very few advantages to being like me, but a reduced sense of feeling the cold is one of them. Gabriela and I followed the boy at a distance, waiting for him to turn down an empty street. When the time came, I was hesitant; Gabriela pushed me down the alley he had entered forcefully, and the boy turned as I stepped in a puddle loudly. His soft blue eyes looked up at me in the dim light as I approached. I was appalled at the level of violence and brutality Gabriela employed in her feedings, but as I drew nearer to the boy down the alley, I felt the thirst for blood, previously a dull ache, blossom into a feverish need. A loud crack erupted from his body as my hands gripped his fragile vertebrae. Warm, wet viscera and gristle sprayed my face as I broke his spine in two. For a few moments, I simply enjoyed the sight of the boy's life-force raining out of the wound I had created; I gripped the two pieces of his spinal cord greedily as I felt his throbbing life-force drain out of him out of him onto the street. I buried my face in him, feeding voraciously. The open maw of his wound was sticky and inviting, meeting my eager mouth like the hungry kiss of an enthusiastic lover. The boy didn't cry out as I descended on him. The only sound he made the entire time was a ragged, labored wheezing as he struggled to take air into his crumpled, broken body. After I was done, I stood over the kill, staring at Gabriela as the cool rain mixed with the blood running down my face. She smiled at me, and lasciviously beckoned me to her. "Now I can teach you what happens after feeding," she said cryptically as she took my hand in hers. I took one last look down at the twisted form lying in the gutter, the little body I had mangled moments before. I felt no remorse for what I had done; rather, I felt energized, fulfilled. Feeding gives you a moment of blinding, atavistic ecstasy, and leaves you with an almost sexual afterglow. Feeding and its orgasmic feeling were only a precursor to other, more conventionally erotic pleasures that Gabriela would share with me that night. We returned to the expensive hotel at which we stayed while in Baltimore just as dawn was beginning. We are not as sensitive to sunlight as popular legend would have you believe—we do not explode or shrivel into nothingness upon direct exposure. It is more a strong sensitivity to sunlight that we possess. While it is not fatal, and can be endured if one does not mind the intense nausea and headaches that accompany us into daylight, it is much safer and more comfortable to be the "creatures of the night" that we have been billed as. Gabriela directed me to arrange for champagne to be sent to our room before she went upstairs. I spoke briefly with the concierge, and soon went up myself with a bottle in a bucket of ice. When I entered the room, Gabriela lay supine on the bed, her head turned toward me. She was almost nude, wearing just a short, sheer nightdress. She smiled mischievously as I took her body in; the diaphanous fabric of her dress clung to her curves, hugging her body closely as her large breasts rose and fell with her breathing. "Your cheeks are rosy...you look like life itself," she purred at me as she turned towards me onto her side. My eyes were immediately drawn to the neat triangle of dark hair between her legs, and I was taken with desire. "You look like sex," I replied, breathily. She stood and approached me; I set the champagne bucket down on the table near the door, putting my arms around her as she kissed me lustily. I began to feel my manhood engorge as I ran my hands down her back, finally finding their way to her thick buttocks. Gabriela pulled my body to hers as we kissed; I ran one hand over the gentle slope of her stomach, tracing my fingers over her navel on their way to her ample breasts. I pressed my thumb into her small pink nipple, feeling it harden against my touch. She then bit my lower lip, drawing blood, before taking a step back and sinking to her knees in front of me. "Open the champagne, Will," she purred as she undid my belt. As I started to remove the foil from the bottle, she removed my sex from my pants. She took my balls in her mouth and sucked them gently as she wrapped her small hand around my quickly hardening cock. The cork of the champagne popped off, and Gabriela looked up at me, her large brown eyes meeting mine as she flicked her tongue across the base of my penis. She held my gaze in hers as she dragged her tongue achingly slowly up the shaft, licking the tip in increasingly smaller circles before wrapping her lips around me. I moaned, almost dropping the champagne as her head began to bob up and down rhythmically between my legs. After what seemed like a blissful eternity, she stood back up and slipped her sheer gown over her head, dropping it to the floor. Then she grasped my cock in her hand and led me to the edge of the bed. She took the champagne from me and gently pushed me to my knees before her. She spread her legs, exposing her sex to me as she sat before me. "Have you ever tasted a woman before, Will?" Gabriela took a drink of champagne straight form the bottle before passing it to me. "I've been with two women," I answered, somewhat defensively. "That's not what I was asking," she said, smirking at me. She dipped her finger into the folds of her pussy and ran her now-moist finger over my lips and into my mouth. I sucked on her finger, tasting her. I took a drink of champagne, handed the bottle back to her, and bent before her womanhood. I took her heavy breasts in my hands as I began to lick her. She tilted the bottle over her body; I could taste the effervescent crispness of the dry wine mix with her tangy musk as my tongue lapped at her. I slipped a finger inside her as I licked; she gasped as I began to slide my fingers in and out of her. She put her hands on either side of my face and pulled me up to her, kissing me with a fierce hunger. She lay back on the bed and spread her legs before guiding me into her. Gabriela was tight around me as I entered her; we began to move in a slow and steady rhythm together, the bed creaking quietly under us. She wrapped her legs around me, surprising me with the strength of her compact form. I grabbed handfuls of her long, curly hair, burying my face in it and its sweet scent as we made love. I raised myself up onto my arms; I watched a bead of sweat trickle down her graceful neck, into the valley between her breasts. Our pace quickened as we both neared climax. I thrust into her with more force as she began to call my name out low, almost grunting it, uttering the battle cry of triumphant lovers everywhere. Her body tensed as she came, her back arching as she grabbed the bedcovers. I continued thrusting, and felt my orgasm explode into her as I joined her in ecstasy. Afterwards, we lay in bed all day, enjoying each other's bodies. As the sky darkened into dusk, we watched the rain fall in sheets outside our window. Her head lay on my chest, her luxurious dark hair splayed across my body. As the sky darkened into twilight, I thought of the boy I had killed and felt my first sense of guilt. Tears began to stream down my face; I turned to Gabriela, who cradled my head on her breasts, rocking me back and forth as I wept softly. "How did I become something so evil?" I forced out between sobs. Gabriela kissed the top of my head affectionately and held me tighter for a few moments before speaking in her Castilian-inflected English. "People think we are monsters, but they don't believe in us. The truth is, we are not what they think; we kill out of necessity, not out of desire. Will, my love, true evil is not what we are. True evil is in the hearts of men, and every day we have to make the decision to resist it." She held me to her as my tears rolled onto her naked body. The rain continued to fall. Fangs for the Mammaries I awoke from my dreamless sleep moments after dusk and opened my coffin. Darkness had descended upon the city and I felt the need. I was hungry. It was time to feed. It had been this way for several centuries and it wouldn't change in millennia as long as I was nourished with human blood. Not just any human blood but...well, I'm getting ahead of myself. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Boris; Count Boris, to be exact from a long royal lineage in Eastern Europe. As you may have guessed, I'm a vampire. How I became a vampire is a long and interesting story but I won't relate that tale now. My prey this night was in a modern American city. People who live here feel compelled to go out at night no matter how dangerous it might be so there is always plenty of nourishment to be had. The occasional mugger is a worry, to be sure, but no one is worried about vampires in this enlightened society. It was quite different as little as a century before when the vast majority stayed indoors at night and set wards against my kind. Being able to feed regularly was a challenge. Now, it's ridiculously easy with vampires these days the mere stuff of myths and legends recounted in books, films and television shows. I spied my prey almost immediately, a young, pretty and well-dressed woman with long blonde hair out alone strolling in a park. She was wearing a miniskirt and high heels. Very lovely. Perhaps she was waiting for her husband or boyfriend. Or she might have been a prostitute patrolling the park for a customer. It didn't matter to me. She'd be late for any planned rendezvous. The woman was mine for now. The park was well-forested for use as cover. I caught her eye and instantly she was under my spell. It was too easy. The fetching beauty had no thought of resisting. She followed me off the pathway to a small hidden group of trees. No one will see us. Her neck was exposed and neatly punctured with my fangs. I drank. "Argh! Ptooey! Ptooey! What are you trying to do, poison me?" I yelled. The spell was broken and the woman jumped back in fright. "I'm sorry!" she screamed and started crying. That voice! "You...you're not a woman! You're a man dressed as a woman! A cross dresser!" He merely nodded his head and continued crying. "Stop crying!" I hissed. "I'm not going to kill you." Normally I would have disappeared in a puff of smoke and made my escape but I didn't need this nut to start screaming about someone going around biting necks. There are some real sick individuals out there who fancy themselves vampires and do just that. "I wish you would," the boy replied. "What?" "I wish you'd kill me. I don't want to live." "Well, vampires these days don't go around killing people so you're out of luck with me. It stirs up the authorities. You're what, 18 years old? I'd say you have a lot to live for, uh...what's your name?" "Billy. My name is Billy and I'm 20 years old." "That's a nice name, Billy. Well, Billy, if it's any consolation to you I was certainly fooled by your appearance. I thought for sure you were a woman and believe me; I'm an expert." "I'm tired of fooling people," the young man replied. "You're a vampire, aren't you? Why don't you go ahead and suck out all my blood? I won't resist. You'd be doing me a favor." Billy sniffled some more but at least he stopped crying. "My recommended nightly allowance is one pint or 500 milliliters metric if I'm anyplace else besides the States so I can't oblige you there. Besides that, as you might have surmised, your blood and my tastes are incompatible. Anyway, if you want to stop fooling people all you have to do is change your wardrobe to one more appropriate to your gender. Problem solved!" "You don't understand," Billy said sadly. "No one understands. In my mind, in my soul I know I'm a woman. I...I'd feel even more of a fraud dressed as a man than I am dressed as a woman. That would like me advising you to stop being a vampire and going back to being a man. You were a man at one time, weren't you?" "I was indeed a man at one time," I replied. "In fact my family was royalty. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Boris; Count Boris to be exact from a long royal lineage in Eastern Europe." I bowed slightly and Billy curtseyed prettily in return. "I've never met royalty before. You...said my blood was unacceptable. What's wrong with it? I'm not diseased or anything like that." "Diseased blood does bother me although it won't kill me since I'm already dead, heh heh. It gives me a bit of indigestion though. Alas, I prefer the blood of young and attractive women. I was fooled by your appearance but I could never be fooled by how your blood tastes. My system is adjusted exclusively to how they taste. I'm a bit of a gourmet that way," I declared without modesty. "I see," said Billy. "I'll just go home and kill myself then." "What's all this about killing yourself? Being dead isn't all it's cracked up to be. I know. I've been dead for a long time. Why don't you get one of those sex change operations I've read about?" The boy shrugged his shoulders. "They're expensive and even if I had the money I still wouldn't feel like a real woman. You wouldn't happen to have a magic spell on you, would you? Something that would turn me into a woman?" "Nah! The only magic vampires do are the transformations...like I can turn myself into a bat, wolf or a puff of smoke. I once auditioned for a magic act when I needed some extra money. I did the transformations. The manager was impressed and I thought I had the job. Then the guy asks me what else I do. What else I do? Isn't that enough? The guy looks at me and tells he'll call me but don't give up my day job. A day job? A day job would be the death of me. I sleep during the day. It was all I could do not to transform back into a wolf just so I could rip his throat out." I finally got a smile out of Billy. "I once had my fortune told by a gypsy woman back when I was a child. She said I'd meet a sorceress who would grant me my fondest wish. My fondest wish even then was to be changed into a girl but that was ten years ago and I still believed in those kinds of things." "That couldn't have been Natasha she was talking about. She only turns guys into girls if they don't want it." "You know a real sorceress?" Billy said excitedly. "Can she turn me into a real woman?" "You get to know all sorts when you've been around over 800 years," I replied. "You weren't listening though. She only turns guys into women when they've been real bastards with women. You know the type...chauvinists I think you call them these days. I'm afraid you can't qualify. You'd have to make her believe you were an absolute louse with women and been that way for years." "You can tell her I'm a bastard with women." "Yeah, but she'd want to meet you and I don't think you could fool her. No one could act that well." "I fooled you, didn't I?" "Well, yeah you did do that...but it would take me a while to locate her and for her to make arrangements to get here. It would be a waste of time." "Why?" "Aren't you the one who's going to go right home and kill himself?" "I don't really want to die," Billy said quickly. "It's just that...I don't want to live like I am." He started bawling again. "All right! Stop with the crying. I'll see what I can do. She does owe me some favors since I've helped her out of a lot of jams over the years." I still hadn't fed and I was getting irritable. I got the boy's telephone number and email address. My payment would be a blood donation from the transformed Billy. "Uh, Billy, may I ask you a quick question?" "Of course." "Are any of the women around here women?" Billy shook his head and pointed to the other side of the park. I thanked him and moved on. You might be asking yourself right now why I bothered with Billy. I honestly don't know except to say that I kind of liked the kid. Anyway, it wouldn't be too difficult to contact Natasha as I already had her cell number and she didn't live too far away. The hard part would be to convince her that Billy deserved to be transformed from a man to a woman. Like I said, you get to know all types when you've been walking this planet as long as I have and especially where I tend to frequent; society's netherworld. Now don't get me wrong. Natasha is one of the nicest sorceresses you'd ever want to meet. Just don't get on her wrong side. She has some mean spells that you'd regret being on the receiving end. I think she uses these spells to dispense justice in her view of things so she doesn't cast them just for fun. One of them is the transgender spell. I've never seen one of them done but I hear her victims don't have the need for a jock strap for the rest of their lives. Anyway, I called up Natasha and gave a song and dance routine about how Billy was a serial abuser of women and was the perfect candidate for a sex change spell. She said she'd be interested in meeting Billy and would arrange to fly into town by commercial jet. She doesn't use a broom. I then called Billy and we arranged an evening appointment (what else?) at his apartment. He was to forego shaving for a couple of days and dress in men's clothes and not wear any wig. I also coached him on how to act when he met Natasha. We might have pulled it off but things started to go wrong from the very start. The first thing Billy did when he answered the door was curtsey to me. He curtseyed! Did I have to tell him not to curtsey? Natasha was immediately suspicious. "Okay, what's going on here?" "What do you mean what's going on?" "He curtseyed." "He didn't curtsey." "Yes, he did. Only women curtsey." "I, uh bowed," Billy said quickly. "I'm just being courteous to one of royal blood." "He's not of royal blood." "Yes, he is," Billy replied as if it was common knowledge. "He's Count Boris, to be exact, from a long royal lineage in Eastern Europe." "He's being ironic," I said and held a finger to my lips as if he to tell him he was violating a confidence. "May we step inside? I believe we have business." A vampire may never cross a threshold unless invited. Billy nodded finally in understanding and stepped aside. "You were never royalty," said Natasha when we were inside. "You were a village baker." "That's a lie," I protested. I should have held my tongue but I was being sorely provoked. "I got it from the vampire's mouth. Manny told me you were being held in the stocks in the village square for short weighting your bread loaves. He couldn't pass up a free meal." "You've met Manny? I was framed." Billy was beginning to look worried but I smiled at him reassuringly. Manny was the vampire who turned me into a vampire. I never knew they knew each other. Now all Billy had to do was provoke Natasha into casting the sex change spell. "I thought you were bringing five or six broads for me to abuse," snarled Billy. "She doesn't look like much." I nodded in approval but Natasha seemed unperturbed. "You have a lovely apartment," said Natasha. "Did you decorate it yourself?" "Yes, I did," replied Billy with a happy smile. "Thank you for noticing. It's not much right now. I covered all the mirrors in anticipation of the count's visit." He turned to me. "By the way, I threw out all the garlic and stored away anything that might be mistaken for a cross." Natasha just smirked at the feminine decor. "Did you remember to get rid of the Stars of David?" I asked. What else could go wrong? "I didn't realize that could be a problem," Billy replied with genuine concern and then gasped. "Oh my goodness! A previous tenant was Jewish and there's a mezuzah still nailed to the door jamb. You weren't hurt, were you?" I turned to Natasha and shrugged my shoulders. I expected her to be angry but she was giggling. "Who does your hair?" was Natasha's next question. "Oh, I do my own hair. Normally I would have worn a short hair wig but the count told me not to wear a wig and...have I blown it?" said Billy who finally seemed to realize things weren't going right. He turned red in the face and tears started coursing down his cheeks. That kid sure was a crier. "Boris," said Natasha, "I've gotten you out of a lot of jams over the years. You'd think you could be straight with me at least once in your long existence. What kind of jam have you gotten yourself into now?" "I'm not in any kind of jam," I huffed. "I was merely trying to help out Billy here." I proceeded to tell Natasha how Billy and I met and what we were trying to accomplish. Natasha was smiling in the telling but she turned serious immediately. "You know I don't use my spells except on the most deserving. It's a matter of principle." She looked at Billy who had stopped crying but seemed capable of restarting at any time. "Billy looks as if he couldn't harm a fly." She turned to him. "What horrible deeds have you committed against women that would warrant such a punishment?" "I'm sure we'd be here all night if we had to listen to all of Billy's misdeeds towards women," I declared. In my own way I was urging Billy to lie like hell. The young man started trembling and turning red in the face so I was sure he had a doozie of a tale to tell us. "Well, just tell us about the one you're thinking about right now," said Natasha who also observed his discomfort. Billy's confession came out in one breath as if inhaling would cause him to lose his nerve. "About five years ago I went into Lindsay's bedroom, my little sister, and I tried on her panties but the seams burst on one pair because they were too small and I threw them in the trash thinking no one would notice but my mother found them and my older sister Eileen got the blame and she had to pay for the panties out of her allowance and I just let it happen and didn't say a word and Lindsay started calling Eileen a fat ass and I've been feeling guilty about it ever since." Billy burst into inconsolable tears. Natasha and I were stunned into silence. I finally spoke. "That...that was the dumbest story I've ever heard alive or dead." I turned to Natasha. "I sincerely apologize for wasting your time, Natasha. I'll make this up to you in some way." "You worm!" hissed Natasha. I braced myself for more verbal abuse but then I realized she wasn't addressing me. "You pit sister against sister because of your heinous crime and you were too cowardly to confess when it would have made a difference. That...that was the most horrendous story I've ever heard. I apologize for doubting you, Boris. I'll make it up to you in some way. Stand up! Stand up, I say and meet your fate." "Hot dog!" I cried. "Stand up, Billy. Stand up and take it like a man. She's really gonna do it. Natasha's going to turn you into a girl." Of course, she was making up her outrage. I didn't know if Natasha was going to do it because she felt sorry for the kid or because she was doing me a favor and I really didn't care which it was. Billy stood up hesitantly and, I imagine, he was a little scared. "Give her big tits. I like women with big tits." "Oh, shut up," said Natasha, "or I'll give you big tits." I shut up. I didn't think Natasha could work her magic on a vampire but I didn't want to take a chance. Natasha mumbled something in a strange language and waved her hands about. "There! It's done. For all intents and purposes he is a she. She won't lack for a bosom, by the way," she added. Billy's eyes lit up but she didn't say anything. I stood by to watch the change take place rubbing my hands in anticipation. I knew I was going to savor a gourmet meal from that lovely neck. Nothing seemed to be happening after a few minutes though. "Did you get the spell right?" I was anxious and so was Billy. "Of course I got the spell right. The changes are already taking place. I can tell." "How long is this going to take?" "About ten days to two weeks." "Ten days to two weeks? I can't wait that long," I complained. "I have to leave town tomorrow night. Don't you have an instant spell?" "There is an instant spell but I never bothered to learn it. It's so much more fun to watch my victim slowly change. He knows something is wrong but he's not sure what. When he finally realizes what happening he panics and tries to find a way out of it but there's nothing he can do." Natasha turned to Billy. "No drugs or alcohol, darling. You'll just slow down the process. Get plenty of rest, eat right and drink lots of water. You'll have your first period soon after the change is complete and then you'll be fertile so you better see your doctor about birth control if you plan to be sexually active." "Please don't let me wake up if this is a dream," said an awestruck Billy. Natasha walked over and took Billy's hand. "I hope you made the right decision," said Natasha. "You won't escape heartache and disappointment by becoming a woman. In fact, you'll feel it all the more when it comes your way because you're a woman." "I can take it," said Billy. Tears were glistening in her eyes again but this time I'm sure they were tears of happiness. "I'll be back in town next month," said Natasha. "Let's do lunch...just us girls." Lunch? That reminded me that I hadn't fed yet. "I'm heading over to the park for a midnight snack. I'll have to take a rain check on that meal you owe me," I told Billy. She came over and gave me a hug. I bade both good night and slipped out into the darkness. I left town the next night without seeing Billy or Natasha and didn't return for five years. I wasn't even thinking about Billy when I hit town. As usual, I was thinking about my next meal and headed for the park. "Count Boris!" someone behind me called. That voice! It was familiar. I turned around and one of the loveliest women I've met in the last 200 years rushed into my arms. "I knew it was you," she gasped. She stepped back and curtseyed prettily. "Billy?" "Yes, it's me except I spell it with an i-e on the end: Billie." "You look lovely, Billie." I admired her magnificent tits. "Are you completely female now?" "Every last drop of blood in me is female," said the beautiful woman standing before me. Ah, she remembered our agreement. "And I see you're married too," I said noting the wedding ring on her finger. "Yes, I met and married a very wonderful man. It was love at first sight for both us. I told him everything. I'm not sure he believed me but he said he didn't care what my past was. Natasha was my maid of honor. We wanted to send you an invitation but we didn't know where you'd gone. We planned a midnight wedding just in case. I was just on my way home. Would you like to meet my husband?" "Not yet," I replied. "I was just going out for a bite. Would you care to join me?" Billie nodded and took my arm. "Count Boris?" "Hmmm?" "This won't hurt the baby, will it?" "You're pregnant? That's wonderful, Billie. If it's a boy be sure to name him Boris, heh heh." "I can't do that. I already have a son named Boris." "I was just kidding about...what did you say?" "I named my son after you." She caressed her belly. "I'm hoping this one is a girl so I can name her Natasha." Well, vampires are a cold-blooded group as a whole but at that moment I felt like laughing and crying at the same time. I was a proud father. Well, not really a father but I might as well have been. You know what I mean. I reached over and gave Billie a hug. "You've made me the happiest vampire in the world," I declared. "You're paid in full. I gotta go. See you around." Like a fool I transformed right there in public and took off like a bat. Well, I guess I'll always be a sucker for a pretty woman, heh heh. Get it? Fang's Kiss This is my first submission ever. Feedback will be greatly appreciated. There is no sex in this chapter. Maybe in the next one. Enjoy. * The bar had an odd name. Fang's Kiss. The bar was at the end of the main road, away from the center of the city. It sat on a deserted stretch of land, with old warehouses and broken down apartments. At first glance it had looked deserted, but then Sophia had noticed the movement inside. From the window, it looked like it was almost full. She hesitated at the corner. Fang's Kiss was odd, that much she knew. It wasn't a scary odd, but just an odd that interested her and made her want to stay as far away from the place as she could. Sophia walked to the bottom of the walkway and paused again. She almost turned and went to go find someplace else. Bust she shook it off and continued up the walkway and opened the door. She felt a gust of warm air as she walked in, she heard the quiet hum of the patron's voices. Then silence. If felt as if everything had stopped when she walked in. Every eye was on her as she closed the door. This isn't a regular bar, she thought. There was no music playing and everyone was deathly quiet. No one moves, they just sat and stared at her. She smiled sheepishly at them and started to move to the bar. As her eyes swept the room, she notices that everyone was in groups of two's or three's. All of them were pale and wore dark colored clothing. Their eyes seemed to reflect what little light was there. Sophia slipped off her jacket and hung it over her arm as she moved to the bar. Still no one moved. Their eyes were locked on her, following her every movement. Sophia sat down in one of the bar stools, with her back to the room. Slowly the conversations started again. She knew they were talking about her, the new arrival. She waited for the bartender to make his way down to where she sat. She resisted the urge to turn around and stare back into the curious eyes glued to her back. The bartender reached her and brought her out of her thoughts. "What'll ye have?" he asked. "Bloody Mary," she answered. He stared at her for a moment with a strange look on his face, and then turned away. She watched as he mixed the drink and sat it in front of her, trying to figure out what the look was for. Giving up, she raised the glass to her lips, and realized he was still standing there, watching her. "yer not from 'round here, are ye?" he asked. "No, I just moved here to take care of my dad. How could you tell?" she asked. He paused for a minute. "Because the locals stay away from here. We dunnot allow visitors." "You don't ALLOW visitors? Why? Is this some private 'members only' bar?" she asked, confused. "Ye could say tha." Sophia sat surprised for a moment. "I'm very sorry, I didn't know," she smiled at him shyly. "I'll just leave then .How much is the drink?" she asked as she started to get up. "Dunna worry about it. Drinks on tha house. When ye finish it, ye can leave." "Thank you." The bartender leaned forward suddenly. He caught the collar of her shirt before she could move away. "Make sure," he whispered, so low she could barely hear him. "When ye leave go straight home, dunnot stop for anythin." He released her shirt and abruptly moved away. She stared at him for a moment. Once again she raised her drink to her lips. She gulped it down ready to leave. These people are crazy; I have got to get out of here. She stood quickly, smiled at the bartender and turned to leave. When she turned around, she noticed that everyone had gathered in one large group towards the back. That's strange, she thought. I didn't even hear them move. Once again everyone was staring at her. She put her jacked on and moved towards the door. She could feel their eyes watching her as she went. "Excuse me." Sophia turned and looked towards the voice. A tall black haired man had stood and started making his way over to where she stood. He was tall, much taller than her small 5'2" frame. His hair was long, and shaggy. He had beautiful green eyes. He wore a band t-shirt under a black blazer with silver buttons, and dark jeans. He moved smoothly over the floor, as if her were floating instead of walking. His movements reminded her of a jungle cat on the prowl. Everyone had stopped again, and was staring at her. Even the bartender was looking at her with intense concentration. As she met his eyes, he seemed to be telling her to just leave. She shook it off again, crazy old man, she thought. "Where are you off to so soon?" the man in front of her asked. "You haven't even introduced yourself." The way he was staring so intently into her eyes made her nervous. She really wanted to leave now. "I just cam in for a minute," she replied. "Nonsense," he said, grabbing her arm. "It isn't often we have visitors." He pulled her over to the middle of the large group. "Liam!" he called. "Bring over another of whatever she was drinking!" As he was ordering her a drink, he moved to a table and two chairs to the center of what was becoming a large circle. He then pushed her into one of the chairs. 'Liam' came over and sat another Bloody Mary in front of her. Sophia watched him as he went back behind the now empty bar. She turned back as she heard the chair opposite her move, as the man sat down. "So," he said. "What's your name?" "Sophia, what's yours?" she replied. He laughed loudly and the circle joined him. "My name isn't important," he said when he had controlled his laughter. "Everyone here knows who I am, it is you we need to get to know." "Me? Why am I so important?" "Because, my dear, you are the center of this conversation." "I don't think I want to be part of this conversation if I don't even know who I'm talking to," she said as she stood up. The man reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. He looked as if he were insulted and angry enough to strike her. He gave a small smile that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "You don't need to worry about who I am. All you need to do is answer my questions." "So, you're telling me that I shouldn't worry about who I am talking to?" she asked. "My daddy told me not to talk to strangers," she added sarcastically. Then entire circle got still then, the phrase 'you could hear a pin drip' floated through her head. The man's face contorted into a mask of rage. Sophia recoiled. For the first time since she had walked into the bar, she was truly afraid. The man across from her got control of himself, and smiled at her again. She felt cold dread in the pit of her stomach. His smile seemed like he was a dog baring his teeth at her, she imagined she could hear him growl. "That's not very polite. You don't know who your messing with." She looked back at him and tried to keep her fear under control. "It isn't nice to have a conversation with someone and refuse to introduce yourself. Not to mention your implied threat." His smile seemed glued in place. He was making sure he kept his cool. Sophia could almost feel the circle close in on her from behind. She wanted to turn and see if the had actually moved, but she was too frightened to take her eyes off the man in front of her. Suddenly he was inches from her face. Startled she jerked back in her chair. His hand flashed out and caught her head. Fury flashed in his eyes as he made a snarling noise. She shuddered in terror. Sophia could feel her eyes widen. If she had been afraid earlier, she was absolutely terrified now. She tried to struggle out of his grasp, but he was too strong. He kicked the chair from under her. She brought her hand up to hit him, but his hand flashed up and caught it. He's fast, she thought. Too fast! What is he? Sophia panicked. Once again she tried to break his hold. As she struggled, she saw the circle closing in on them. She could see a type of animalistic hunger in their eyes. She wanted to get away more than anything. What are they going to do to me? She asked herself. She felt two more pairs of hands grab her, and spread her out across the table and held her down. She tried to fight them off, but their hold was as strong as the man's. Their skin felt like ice. Someone took a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. The man that had first called to her was standing above her head. His eyes had changed from green too blood red and he was grinning down at her. His eyeteeth were longer than the rest of his teeth and looked very sharp. What's going on here! She thought. She heard laughter from the rest of the circle, but she was frozen with fear. She watched in horror as he lowered his face to her neck. "No, please stop," she pleaded. She felt a sharp pain in her neck as his teeth pierced her flesh. Oh my god! He's biting me! She heard the others laughing loudly. "Stop this foolishness." The laughter stopped at the sound of the voice. She felt the rush of cold air as the door opened and closed. Suddenly the pain in her neck was gone, as the man straightened, and stood. "Let her go," the voice commanded. The hands holding her to the table released her; she fell off the table and crashed to the floor in a heap. She could feel the blood from the wound in her neck drip down onto her shirt, mixing with her tears. She crawled to the wall, as far away from the circle as she could get. She searched for the owner of the voice. Then she saw him standing near the door. Everyone was staring at him with a look of fear and hatred. He was handsome, almost beautiful. His short auburn colored hair that was messy as if he had just gotten out of bed. He was tall and dressed like a bad boy from an old fifties movie. He was wearing tight dark blue jeans, and a white t-shirt under a black leather jacket with the collar turned up against the wind. His eyes were dark brown. They were hard, but it looked like they could change, and go soft enough to melt your soul. His arms were crossed and he looked at ease, almost like he could be at a party with some friends, if it weren't for his eyes. His eyes wandered over the crowd until they met hers. He motioned for her to move to where he was. The circle parted and let her through. She stood on shaky legs and walked over to where he stood. When she reached him, he looked down into her eyes. He gave her a small smile and gently tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Are you ok?" he asked. Sophia nodded, not trusting her voice. He smiled again as he pulled a chair over for her. "Just sit tight for a bit, I'll have this all straightened out soon." He turned back to the group, which had formed a semi-circle around them. The man that had bitten her was standing closest to them. He looked furious. "Seth, so nice to see you again. It's been ages. But I see you're still up to your old tricks," her rescuer said. He sounded amused. Sophia couldn't see his face from where she was, but she was almost sure he was smiling. "Gabriel," Seth said. "It has been a long time. And you are still ruining my fun." "I only ruin your fun when you try to harm those under my protection." "Since when is she under your protection!" Seth shrieked. "Your blood has never touched her!" "Since now," he said. Gabriel turned to her, his wyes still hard. He pulled his lips back and bared his teeth. Then he lifted his hand and bit himself hard enough to draw blood. Then he placed his hand on her forehead. His blood was cold. Sophia could feel it running down to sides of her face. She shivered. It seemed as if his blood was trying to mold his hand to her head. The blood was so cold it was burning her. He moved his hand to her neck where Seth had bitten her. She felt a white hot flash of pain and then it was just his hand on her neck. When he removed his hand, she noticed that there was no blood or wound there anymore. She reached up and touched her head; there was no blood there. She felt for the wound on her neck but she knew there would be nothing there. She didn't know what to think. She didn't know how to feel. Gabriel was looking down at her, judging her expression. As she raised her eyes to his, she realized that they were connected. They were bound to each other forever. She didn't know how or why she knew, she just did. She could feel it in her soul. She also knew he had saved her life; she would always be in his debt. At that moment nothing else mattered. The bar, Seth and the others seemed to melt away, and it was just them. It was then she loved him, and she knew it would last forever. Sophia smiled at him and he smiled back, and she knew that he knew exactly how it felt. He turned back to face Seth. Seth looked furious. His eyes were bulging out of his head. He took a step forward and looked as if he was going to attack the both of us. A girl from the crowd stepped forward. "You can't put her under your protection now," she said. "Our business with her started before you put her under your protection. We will settle this with her, not you." "Too bad," Gabriel said. "All business you had with her is with me now." The girl lunged forward, but Seth caught her. "No, we will finish him first. Then when he is gone, we will finish her." "Fine with me," Gabriel said. He turned and picked Sophia up. "If you'll excuse me." Holding her close to his chest, he moved to the door. Somehow he managed to open the door and step out with her in his arms. She felt the gust of cold wind as he walked outside. He paused for a second, turned and started running. She could only tell that he was running because she could feel the wind whipping against her skin. She buried her head against his chest. When he stopped she expected them to be a couple of blocks away from the bar, but when she raised her head, she realized that they were in the middle of a side street downtown. Sophia could feel the shock on her face. "How did you…?" she stuttered. Gabriel just smiled at her. "I don't have time to explain right now. We are in danger, Seth and his followers will be after us soon." "WHY IS HE AFTER ME?" she screamed at him. She could feel the rest of the tears she'd been trying to hold back emerge and start to cascade down her cheeks. "WHAT DID I DO? WHY ME?" she sobbed. Sophia collapsed against the wall and placed he head in her hands and sobbed. She felt Gabriel's hands on hers, gently pulling. When she finally raised her head, he wiped away her tears with one hand and held her hands in his other. "Its not anything you did," he said when he finally spoke. "You were just in the wrong place and Seth likes to hurt people that are weaker than him. He..." Gabriel paused. He seemed to be listening to something. He let out a hiss of air. "Damn them," he growled. He stood and pulled her to her feet. In the same moment, he had released her and had a small pad of paper and a pen in his hands. She stared in shock as he hurriedly scratched a note, and handed it to her. "These are the directions to my hose. This," he said and he handed her another note. "…Is for my house keeper. Give this to her and she'll explain what she car. Here is a key so you can get in." "Wait. I don't even know you, how am I supposed to trust you? You might try to bite me like that crazy guy at the bar!" Sophia nearly shouted. She could hear the panic and hysteria in her voice. Gabriel sighed and looked down into her eyes. His eyes were soft and warm. They made her feel like he was looking into her soul and melting it with the intense heat the burned in them. "Just trust me. Please," he said. She could hear a faint pain in his voice. "Seth hurt me and now he is hurting you. I just want to help." How could she not believe him? He seemed so sincere. Sophia nodded slowly. He smiled again and pulled her close, holding her gently against his body. She wanted nothing more than to just stand there in his arms forever, she felt so safe. But too soon he released her. "Go," he said. "As fast as you can. I'll follow as soon as I can." He started walking away, and then he came back. He grabbed her, pulled her close and kissed her hard. She felt herself melt into him, his kiss was demanding. It felt like he was trying to suck her soul out of her. He ended the kiss just as abruptly as he had started it, smiled and was gone. Sophia stood motionless for a moment. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out the slip of paper with the directions to his house on it. Am I really going to trust him? She asked herself. Yes, a little voice inside of her answered. You will because you love him. And you need to figure this out. She nodded in agreement with the voice. She read quickly over the paper, and started running. * Thank you for reading!!!