Lights Camera Blood:

Authors' Note:

This is the fifth part of a chain story by a sextet of Literotica authors:

@Tio_Narratore

,

@StillStunned

,

@pink_silk_glove

,

@Erozetta

,

@AlinaX

and

@Omenainen

. You will be able to find all the chapters eventually in this list:

Vampire Chain Story

.

Content Note:

Includes non-consensual scenes

*

4.1 True Love

Lucy, and by extension Mina, were not the only innocent moths to be lured to Adamir's flame.

On the third day of shooting - or, more exactly, on the long, lazy Saturday of autumn sunshine during which the film crew slept after a night's frenetic activity up at the castle - Valeska and Vladan were married in the church in nearby Vad'ovce, a coincidence of alliteration that Lucy, the following day, would declare to be 'quite charming'.

The wedding celebration started in the traditional way, with the breaking of the plate and cleaning of the shards, and Vladan had carried his radiant bride into the reception where they fed each other soup, and much dancing and drinking followed.

It is not unusual for Slovak weddings to last through the night, but Valeska and Vladan had won a honeymoon package for the Bahamas, and that was justification enough for escaping early - though the party, of course, continued without them.

Thus it was that Valeska, still wearing her white wedding gown, along with a floral headdress with red ribbons, shuffled a little inelegantly into the back of her uncle's Mercedes, followed by Vladan, who had perhaps had a few too many slivovicas in quick succession. The guests cheered as they set off for Bratislava, driven by Uncle Mirek himself.

Uncle Mirek had had one or two drinks, as was only proper, but not so many, in his considered opinion, that he couldn't drive safely. Extricating themselves from the wedding celebration had taken longer than anticipated, however. "Will we get there?" Valeska asked, anxious for her honeymoon to begin. Valeska had never seen the sea before, and the little beaches along the Danube were nothing compared to the golden sands of the Caribbean.

The sun was just setting as they left, and soon hidden anyway by the hills and trees. It was that time of day when the eyes play tricks and a shadowed tree stump might seem for a moment to be a cloaked figure. The bride and groom were too absorbed with watching videos of the wedding on their phones to see anything of the world outside, but a shiver of fear raced up Mirek's spine.

The younger generation did not believe in the supernatural. For them, vampires were a Hollywood tale of danger and romance. They had even made Čachtice itself into a tourist destination, as if four hundred years could be enough to silence the screams that still echoed in the rock beneath the ruined fortress.

"I've lost connection," Vladan said, lifting his phone to the roof of the car.

"Me too." Valeska sighed unhappily. "Will we get there?" she asked again.

A shadow, something, a wolf perhaps, darted across the road in front of the car. Valeska's cry of surprise became a scream as Mirek swerved to avoid it. This misfortune was compounded by a fallen tree that had come down in a recent storm and had been left by the roadside. Had Mirek reacted even a fraction of a second sooner, he might have avoided this new danger.

Glass shattered and metal shrieked as the Mercedes collided with stubborn wood and was thrown into a spin. Airbags exploded out from various compartments, at once protective and violent - and then it was over as abruptly as it began.

In the shock of that moment, Valeska's mind settled on the one thing she was suddenly sure of. "We're not going to get there."

*

Valeska was helped from the wrecked car. Evening had given way to night and, unable to see clearly in the dark, she assumed it was her uncle and was relieved therefore that he was uninjured, and that apparently she too had survived in one piece.

Even as her thoughts turned to her fellow passenger, to Vladan, the man she loved and who was now her husband, the stranger spoke: "Stay here, I will see to the others."

He had led her a short distance away, and she understood that he meant the car itself was dangerous. Valeska had watched enough television to know cars could explode after a crash. Torn between a desire to dive back in and help rescue her uncle and her husband, and a real fear that in attempting to do so she'd sacrifice her own life for nothing, she remained still and watched her rescuer charge in.

The car's headlights were still blazing into the trees, casting some light in reflection but also shrouding their surroundings in impenetrable dark. The stranger was a silhouette to her, tall and slender, swift and confident in his movements. He soon had Vladan out, leading him to Valeska, and returned to the car.

But the damage to the front of the car was more severe. "He's alive," the stranger announced, "and in no immediate danger. Do not worry. We called for an ambulance when we heard the crash, and it will be here in good time. I will wait with him, but I must insist you wait inside the house. Do you see the lights there through the trees?"

Valeska nodded. "We should stay," she said. It was her uncle trapped in the car, after all.

"Go inside," the stranger insisted again. "It is very cold tonight, and you have both had a great shock. The hotel staff will make sure you are warm and looked after."

"Come," Vladan urged, and she let herself be persuaded. Clutching each other for comfort and security, they made their tender way down the road and then along the lane to where the lights blazed with warmth and welcome.

It was only then, as they were surrounded by strangers all inviting them within, that Valeska noticed she had left her parta - the headdress with its protective ribbons - behind her in the car.

But she was married now, and no longer had need of protection.

*

The Hotel Danica's staff spoke Slovak, naturally, but the guests were a startling mix of Serbs, Hungarians and English. Valeska's English was passable and Vladan's father was Hungarian, so between them they could answer the many questions that came their way.

They huddled together on a sofa near the hearth, glad of its warmth and also of the soothing aroma of the hot chocolate. Valeska had not asked for a drink, and did not want one, but a mug was thrust into her hands and she found herself grateful for its heat and solidity. Before long, she was sipping it too, finding it a pleasantly thick blend.

The certainty that they would miss their flights dismayed her. A honeymoon in the Bahamas seemed suddenly a childish thing, a selfish desire, when her uncle was out there in the cold, perhaps even dying. She kept reaching for her phone, only to remember it was in the car, Vladan's too. And their suitcases. All just a short walk away through the cold and dark, but she couldn't bring herself to go back out there.

Valeska sat there, sipping her cocoa and feeling faintly ridiculous in her wedding dress. People spoke to her, but very little made sense. She was too focused on the hotel entrance, waiting for the news that would come through it, whether of tragedy or relief.

Beside her, Vladan spoke in Hungarian with a young woman. A very attractive young woman with long, dark hair, and wearing a corset and dress that belonged to another century entirely. An actress, apparently, although not one that Valeska recognised. "You're making a movie?" she asked suddenly, in English.

"We are indeed." The actress regarded her with a cool, speculative gaze, and Valeska felt a shiver of fear, or excitement. Something. "You've met the director already. He heard the crash, demanded the hotel call for an ambulance, and charged out into the night. I thought him quite mad, for none of us heard a thing, yet here you are - and look, the hero returns!"

The tall stranger - Valeska could see him clearly for the first time, and actually he wasn't so tall; he was slender, distinguished, his hair turning grey, and certainly he had a commanding presence - strode straight across the room to her, a magnetic furiosity in his eyes. She could think of no other way to describe it. He looked at her and the current swept her up, and she clutched desperately at Vladan's arm for an anchor. "Your uncle is well," he said, "save for a broken thigh bone and some scrapes. He is on his way to the hospital and insists you spend the night here. As do I. The hotel has a bridal suite, after all, and you both need a night of rest after what you have endured. I have brought your suitcases from the car, so you will have everything you need."

Caught in the focus of his attention, Valeska could only nod her acceptance, and as he strode away her heart hammered like a wild thing. "Who is that?" she whispered.

The Hungarian actress laughed. "That, dear, was the world-famous director Adamir. And the way he was looking at you just now, I won't be surprised if he has a part in this movie that's written just for you."

*

Exhausted, and able finally to let go of the tensions of the night's misadventure, the bride and groom retired for the night. They even made a half-hearted attempt to consummate their marriage, but soon surrendered to sleep.

It was mid afternoon when they awoke. The bed was so comfortable, and the room so warm and luxurious, they felt no urgency to rejoin the world. There was a timelessness too to the old manor house, not least because they were without their phones and any connection to the world outside.

The view from the bedroom windows was trees and hills, no obvious sign of civilisation. Valeska sighed. "I wanted a beach, and sunshine."

Vladan chuckled. "With our bad luck, we'd have got there and had two weeks of rain and wind."

"And this place doesn't seem so bad." Indeed, Valeska was hopeful they would get to see some filming, and half remembered a dream of Adamir doing - well, doing she wasn't sure what, but it stirred a longing in her.

Vladan had dreamed too, not of Adamir but of Mircalla. She had the ethereal beauty of a professional model, and there had been something familiar about her, something he hadn't been able to place while talking to her the night before. But his sleeping mind had put it together, cross-referencing past and present.

When was it? A month ago? Two? Vladan had entered 'Hungarian' into the search box of his favourite porn site and had been treated to a five-minute extract from some longer porn shoot. A beautiful model with long, dark hair, her lips pursed lovingly about a long, hard cock, her head bobbing with clear enthusiasm.

Mircalla. That hadn't been her name, but he was sure now that it was her. His cock stirred to attention each time his thoughts drifted to her.

Valeska slipped back into bed, her hand coiling about his hard length. "Let's not waste this moment," she murmured between kisses, trying not to think of Adamir, but failing.

Vladan rolled on top, positioning himself impatiently between her open thighs. They were neither of them virgins; they had done this before, but never as husband and wife, and never while thinking of others. Vladan thrust eagerly into Mircalla's porn-star cunt, and Valeska welcomed Adamir's possessive hunger as he penetrated her flesh.

*

Feeling a little guilty about having spent the whole day in bed, Valeska and Vladan made their way downstairs, half expecting to be told they would need to leave the room, or at least pay for it.

"On the contrary," the manager said. "Adamir has said the suite is yours for as long as you wish to stay."

There was a message from Uncle Mirek too, leaving a phone number. Valeska called him using the hotel landline.

"I haven't told anyone," he said immediately after reassuring her he was in good condition, or as well as could be expected. "About the accident. Have you?"

"No," she admitted. "They'll all just worry, and actually this seems like a nice place to stay."

"Good," he said. "Good. Let me know if you need anything, and I'll pick you up in two weeks otherwise."

"Love you, Uncle Mirek."

Adamir himself, and indeed the whole film crew, were nowhere to be seen. There were only the two English women eating dumplings and sharing a bottle of red wine. "Come join us," the dark-haired one said. "And if you're hungry, you've got to try these... um." She peered at the menu.

"Bryndzové halušky," Valeska supplied with a smile. "And maybe we will."

Introductions were made, chairs repositioned, and more food and drink ordered. "Where is everybody?"

The dark-haired one, Mina, was the more playful of the two. The blonde, Lucy, was very pretty, but reserved. "Oh, you won't see them till sundown," Mina said, grinning. "They obviously think the only way to make a film about vampires is to become vampires themselves. I bet they sleep upside-down, hanging from the rafters."

"They're making - Ohh, Báthory." Of course. Why else film at Čachtice. The realisation disappointed her. "All my life I have lived under the shadow of the fortress. That wicked woman does not deserve to be remembered at all, but her spirit is like that of a vampire, unwilling to stay dead and more seductive with each passing year."

Mina nudged Lucy and said, "You should be taking notes."

A smile warmed Lucy's expression. "It is poetic," she said. "But people don't want real history. They want imagination and magic and excess. The Bathory that is remembered is the one who seduces young virgins and bathes in their blood, a magnificent female monster to rival Count Dracula himself. That we can pretend she was once real and that we can point to her castle and say, 'There lived the infamous Elizabeth Bathory,' only makes the fiction we tell more exciting. It's the same with Dracula: We adore the monster, but care little for the brutal warrior who fought against the Ottoman Empire."

Vladan, meanwhile, had stopped following the conversation. His English was not fluent, and he was, besides, distracted by thoughts of Mircalla. Though he had no doubt Valeska would make a good wife and mother, men had other needs too. Some, like himself, had deeply shameful desires that he had never dared share with anyone. Valeska would be horrified. But Mircalla...

Mircalla, he was sure, would understand. Mircalla could, and perhaps even would, fulfil every one of his desires. He wondered what Mircalla would look like wearing a strap-on. Although he disliked watching porn where men received anal, he loved watching women fuck each other, especially with big, black dildos that were bigger than his own very average cock. Mircalla would understand. She would push him down onto his knees and order him to suck on her huge, black cock, getting it nice and wet for his ass.

With a whimper of pain, Vladan shifted in his seat, trying surreptitiously to reposition his hardening cock that was tangled in his underwear. That was the trouble with there being so much online porn. It filled his imagination with so many possibilities. The women in porn could fuck for hours. They loved it dirty too, cunt, ass, mouth, tits, sometimes multiple cocks in the same hole, and they all loved cum. The real world wasn't like that.

He loved Valeska, and she loved him, and the sex was intimate. It was sufficient. But it did not satisfy. What Vladan craved had nothing to do with love. It was raw, not intimate. It was savage and dirty. Exhilarating. It didn't belong in the marriage bed. Accompanying all these thoughts was an undercurrent of guilt. He was on his honeymoon with the woman he loved, and yet he was obsessing over another. The safe and sane thing to do would be to flee this hotel and its terrible temptation, but he could think of no convincing argument.

Valeska was enjoying her conversation with Mina and Lucy, but her thoughts kept returning to Adamir. She wanted to thank him properly for rescuing her, and Vladan and Mirek too, and also for his kindness in letting them stay in the hotel. Were it not for Adamir, their wedding day would have ended in chaos and tragedy. But also, she wanted to see him for herself. The thought of him stirred a yearning in her that was entirely new. Not even Vladan had this effect on her. Vladan was a good man, attentive and dependable. She loved him and she trusted him. Adamir, in contrast, was a mystery, and such a force of nature almost that Valeska could imagine herself surrendering to his dark and perverse desires - and then hating herself after.

Although what those 'dark and perverse desires' might be, she had no idea. Mina's joking description of Adamir as a vampire troubled Valeska, in part because she had a general contempt for the whole idea, and in part because it brought to mind her dream of Adamir. The details still evaded her, but it had been dark and erotic. She scratched idly at her neck - an act she was only aware of because of Mina's startled expression.

Outside, it was getting dark. The sun had set and any lingering thoughts of leaving the warmth and comfort of the hotel were quickly forgotten. As Mina had predicted, the film crew were emerging from their rooms, checking and preparing their equipment.

And suddenly Adamir was there, his startling eyes fixed on Valeska with furious intensity. "I trust you slept well," he said, not quite a question. Valeska nodded, unable to recall the words she had planned to say. "You and your husband are welcome to stay here for your honeymoon, and it would offend me to talk of payment, but I do have a proposition that I think will intrigue you."

"Thank you - of course - anything," Valeska said hurriedly, tripping over the words. She darted an anxious look at Vladan, but Vladan's attention was elsewhere. Mircalla was descending the stairs, dressed in a warm, ankle-length coat.

"There's a small part in my film," Adamir continued. "A young couple, newlyweds like yourselves, have the misfortune of running into the Countess, and she amuses herself by corrupting their innocence. Sadly the two actors we contracted to play the couple had to bow out, and I was worried I would have to remove the scenes completely, but perhaps you could come to my rescue?"

The thought of it both thrilled and terrified her. To have a part in a film by a major international director? For the rest of her life, she would be able to say to people, "Look! That's us! We were on our honeymoon and..."

"We're not trained actors," she said, trying to be sensible about it.

"I don't need trained actors. I need a young couple very much in love. You would be perfect."

Somewhere lost in the blizzard of Valeska's thoughts was a voice crying out in fear, but with abrupt clarity she remembered her dream, or part of it, and she could almost feel Adamir's arms about her, and his breath cool against her neck.

"Let's do it," Vladan said.

Ignoring all instincts to the contrary, Valaska nodded. "Okay."

4.2 Polystyrene and Paint

Valeska had seen articles in the news about the renovation of Čachtice, but the film crew had gone far beyond that. With polystyrene and paint, tarpaulins and timber, whole sections of the ancient fortress had been resurrected. "At least until the next storm," Anna said, as she gave Valeska a tour of the set. "Beautiful by night, but the illusion does not persist in the sun. Come, let me show you the dungeon you will be thrown into..."

Valeska had seen Čachtice a thousand times from a distance, but had never actually visited. It felt almost as if they were alone up there, save for the wind and ghosts. Anna, tall and pale-skinned, her macabre tattoos bared to the bitter cold, had carried both her camera equipment and Valeska's wedding dress with apparent ease.