The Lewd Hunt: Scarlett Marigold As Scarlett came crashing through the window, she could sense them everywhere. Breathing, scampering, shouting, mortals. She hit the catwalk of the factory, followed by a rain of glass shards, and she ran. They were all around her, moving into position, this was a nightmare. One stepped onto the catwalk before her, aiming a pistol at her. She could hear his elevated heartbeat, his fear. He fired, and before she even felt the bullet, she was on him. One blow was enough to collapse the man, then she threw him down two stories to the concrete floor below. She had savored that kill too long, two more men stood on the catwalk now, on opposite ends of her. They seemed to have some sort of net launchers. This was getting dangerous. These weren’t just drunken idiots, they were hunters. Scarlett jumped from the catwalk. There was an odd sound above her as she fell, and when she landed there was the thud of a net right beside her. Too close. She pushed the blood through her body, tried to make what she could out of this unlife that was about to be cut short by ignorant food. Something struck her, and as she turned to take a look, she realized that the projectile was winding around her, binding her upper body. Bolas? She was thrown off balance, almost fell, but continued. Two men appeared before her, both plaid jackets and trucker hats. They also fired at her, and soon her body was so caught up in wires that she collapsed to the hard floor of the factory. Scarlett played dead while they propped her into a metal chair. When she opened her eyes, she was staring down the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun. She didn’t have to feign her look of surprise. “Look at that,” Said an older man with all the class of a Duck Dynasty reject character, “The fang bitch has some life in her.” “Why are you tying me up?” She asked, “This is illegal, I’ll have you all thrown in jail.” The Duck Commander dropped his shotgun long enough to slap her across the face. She didn’t really feel it, but the fact that he would dare to do it meant that he would die first. She pushed her muscles, and felt the cables around her begin to strain at her strength. A dozen weapons were cocked and turned toward her. Scarlett relaxed her arms. “Don’t play cute with us,” Said beard papa, “We know you ain’t just some little miss on her way home, your rooftop leap through a glass window was proof enough of that.” He struck her again, this time with the butt of his shotgun. That time, it actually hurt a little. She sneered at him, letting him see the pair of fangs that would eventually rip out his throat and spit it on the ground. She could feel the urge to attack building up in her, but she knew she had to stay calm. If there was even a chance of living, it would require her to act at the best time. She learned that directly from her Invictus Advisor. It was the reason for her rise through the ranks, for the success of her coterie brothers and sisters, she was a leader damnit. “Now that you seem to realize the situation you’re in,” The leader said, “I want to offer you a deal. All it’ll cost you is a little time with that well preserved body of yours.” The men around her laughed, and Scarlett looked between them. She changed her mind, these were drunken idiots. Why couldn’t she be hunted by someone with enough class to just kill her, or use her resources for monetary success. She would gladly pay her way out of a bad situation. “You’re already dressed for it,” The man said as he brought his face level with hers, “What do you say?” He was just outside of biting range. “I’m not going to fuck you, you ancient fuck,” Scarlett shouted before spitting in his face. The crowd erupted into laughter again, but the guns stayed on her. “Not me, you simple zombie bitch,” He said before stepping aside. A tall man moved up behind him, “My son.” His son wasn’t an offensive sight. His hair was a sandy brown, and while his face looked young and angled, that wasn’t the worst thing. His body though, hunting looked good on mortals, while they still lived. His shoulders were broad, and if he didn’t get his head ripped off tonight, he had a chance of becoming more handsome with age. “That came from you?” Scarlett said with a smirk, “I think momma had better taste than she put on.” The barrell of the shotgun was placed directly on her nose, and she could feel the redneck pushing it hard against her skin, “You take that back, you heartless monster. My Martha was loyal, beautiful, until you stole her away from us.” “I take it back,” Scarlett said, suppressing her smile, “But I didn’t do anything to your wife.” “Your kind did,” Said the son, “You took her away.” Great, she was going to be raped at gunpoint for some other kindred’s mistakes. “So,” Scarlett said with a look of boredom, “Are you going to embarrass your son out here in the open, or will he at least get some privacy?” She focused in on the father, and watched as he squirmed in place. Just because she was tied up and at gunpoint, didn’t mean she had to lose control of the situation. “I did mine out in the open,” The father said loud enough for the others to hear, “No reason for this to be any different.” “Kids these days don’t want their dad watching them make it with a woman. Ask the kid what he wants.” He looked uncomfortable without even looking at his son. Scarlett looked at the boy next, but the son was a rock. While just her stare had unnerved the father, his kid didn’t seem to mind at all. What had he seen to have such a strong will? No one seemed to know what to say, which is exactly where she wanted them. They had screwed themselves the moment they opened their mouths instead of just ripping off her skirt. “Unless maybe you think he can’t handle me,” She added. “How dare you,” He started to say, but the boy held him back with an arm. “Give me a stake,” The son said. A man in the crowd stepped forward and handed him a sharpened piece of wood. Scarlett kept an eye on it. If he made a move, she would have to make hers. She was too young to be staked, Barely 55. “Move,” The son said, pointing toward an office with a clouded glass window on the door. It said ‘DIRECTOR’ on it, in decaying lettering. She stood, and walked in front of him, weary of the stake tapping at her back. “We are going to be right out here,” The father said, “If she so much as spits, shits, or farts in a way you don’t like, raise your voice and we will end her.” It occurred to Scarlett that she hadn’t done two of those things in nearly 30 years. She walked into the room first, the son followed, then shut it before sitting down in an old desk chair. “What’s your name, kid?” She asked. “I’m Nelson,” He replied, “I don’t care what your name is.” This kid was heavy, “You can call me Scarlett.” He looked around the room, which wasn’t much more than an overturned desk gathering dust, a bare floor, and the chair he was sitting in. “Lay down over there,” He said, “Spread eagle.” “No sense of romance, Nelson?” Scarlett did as she was told, sitting down in the middle of the room, with her knees spread. She tried to get a bead on the kid, but his face was stern, serious. He reminded her of an old boyfriend, or maybe he was a one night stand. Either way, she couldn’t remember the man’s name. She liked how together he seemed, back then, when she was alive. There was just something about confidence. Nelson stood and unbuckled his jeans while walking toward her. “This is just a rite of passage, ma’am,” He said. “Yeah,” She tried again to influence him, it was supposed to be as simple as the right look, “What’s up with that anyway?” “My family and I have been at this for generations,” He said, “Hunting your kind, cleaning the planet of evil. Father was never all that good at explaining things, but I figure the idea is the best way to know your enemy, is to fuck’em.” “Can’t argue with that.” Nelson kneeled in front of her, and Scarlett thought about going for it. Her arms were still bound, but it wouldn’t take long to break free, to attack him. On the other hand, if she waited, backup might arrive. Besides, she had a golden opportunity here. Scarlett laid back, and she felt Nelson grab hold of her panties, pulling them off without much ceremony. A hand went to her sensitive bits, and his fingers tried to stimulate her with rough intrusions. “Ow,” She joked, “Now I know you’re new at this.” “Shut up,” He barked. He brought himself closer to her, and placed the stake just above her heart, “I know how this works. You can keep yourself bone dry down there if you try. Start the water works or I’ll end this early.” Well the rednecks knew a thing or two. Scarlett rolled her eyes, took a breath in, and felt her heart beat for the first time in months. Soon color came to her cheeks. Nelson tried again, though gentler this time. His fingers slid over her lower lips, teasing her, circling her opening. “Better?” He asked. She noted the sarcasm. She tried to stay in control of the situation, but it was hard to deny it felt good. With her body feeling a little alive, his fingers were coming away from her wet, she could feel a growing warmth in her gut. She closed her eyes and nodded. “Good,” Nelson said, then she heard him finish pulling off his briefs. He pressed up against her, his chest to hers, and she felt his head begging for entrance. For a brief moment, she wondered if this was going too far. Then he entered her, and she gasped. She wouldn’t pretend she was new at this, she wasn’t new at it at 18, let alone now. Still, the way he filled her, his vigor and size, it was worth remembering. Nelson drove into her, and all that strength she recognized earlier was put to task at trying to plow her. Without thinking, she brought the rest of her body to life, a natural lust to feel the full force of the mass between her legs. “Slow down,” She whispered to him, “Don’t you want this to last?” He pressed the stake against her chest, and Scarlett remembered her position here. He was trying to keep his distance, she was just a random body for him. He pushed even harder, moving faster, each thrust building up the ball of excitement within her. She couldn’t help it now, her hips moved with his, pushing back with each expected strike. Nelson made the mistake of looking up at her, and Scarlett caught his eyes. He was sweating, exerting himself. Despite his strength of will, there was fear there. She snarled at him, a hiss escaping between her teeth as she utilized the power of the blood. Against his will, Nelson came closer, brought his face right against hers, his eyes locked on her, hypnotized. She put her fangs away long enough to place a kiss on his lips, their tongues slipping past each other, embracing. Nelson’s thrusts slowed, his arms pushing her knees back toward her chest, his manhood penetrating so deep she swore he was in her womb. She could barely control herself, her breath poured into him, muffled moans of pleasure. This couldn’t be the end. Her fangs nicked her own tongue, and Nelson took in the blood, swallowed is hungrily. He blinked, and she knew that in that moment, she lost him. He shook his head, pulled himself away, and began to thrust faster, harder, their quickened breathing matching as he pounded away. Scarlett couldn’t resist any longer, she cried out in passion, so loud she was afraid the office door would break. Nelson swelled within her, and both their bodies tensed against each other. He collapsed on top of her in climax, and the only noise was their heavy breathing. Then there were gunshots outside. Nelson lifted his head, “Huh?” Scarlett let out a sigh, “I guess that is my cue to leave.” Nelson looked for his stake, and realized he had set it aside sometime during the passion. In one quick action, Scarlett forced her arms out, and the cables on her body bulged and snapped enough for her to slide away from him. “Wait,” He said as he tried to stand up. She pulled her arms free, then before he could reach it, kicked the stake away. Nelson looked her in the eyes, and she saw that confidence return. Why now? Right before his imminent death? She grabbed him by the head and pulled him forward, her lips locking with his for a kiss. He struggled at first, then gave up, went lax at her strange attention. Scarlett winked at him, “You better survive, boy.” Then she ran for the door, and struck it with her body, flying out into the chaos of the fight. Vampires were slaughtering the rednecks, her friends finally arriving to assist her. She saw in the middle of the room, the Duck Commander, on his knees and bleeding. She couldn’t hold back her fangs, it was too easy a kill. Then she swallowed, leaped up to the catwalk, and looked down toward the office. Nelson stood in the window, still nude from the waist down, and confused. Scarlett whistled for her friends, then leaped out of the factory, and into the night.