I Found A Vampire

Erotic Content / Story Tags

Vampire Girl x Normal Guy

Porn With Plot

Holy Crap That's a Lot of Dialogue

Like, A LOT of Dialogue

Fingering

Handjob

Pussy Eating

Blowjob

Deepthroat

Possession

Brainwashing / Mind Control

Rough Sex

Creampie

Light Bondage

Teeny Tiny Amount of Anal

I'm still not sure what part of me took the actions that I did. It certainly wasn't a part of me that was careful, well-thought, or even moderately sane. It couldn't have been. A sane person doesn't stop their car on the side of a highway at three in the morning for no reason. A sane person certainly doesn't get out of their car despite the pouring thunderstorm and go into the wooded area beyond the road. They wouldn't risk walking straight into a wild animal, such as a bear, with nothing more to protect themselves than the clothes soaking off their back. A sane person would have seen the girl lying there on the grass while covered in blood and called the police. They would have let the authorities handle it.

So why the hell did I carry her back to the car and lay her down in the backseat?

I may never know.

I found it difficult to keep my attention on the road. The conditions were not ideal for me to be so distracted while driving- not only was the asphalt completely slicked from the torrential rainfall, but the cloud cover was so thick that without the headlights illuminating the sixty feet or so in front of me, I doubt I would even be able to see the steering wheel clasped in my hands. My gaze was constantly torn, however. Each time the sky erupted in light with another thunderous explosion of electricity, the inside of the car glowed briefly, allowing me the briefest of glimpses at the tilted rear view mirror. In it, I could see my own lightly tanned skin, brown hair, and equally brown eyes that flashed with constant concern and confusion. However, I could also see over my own shoulder at my passenger.

She couldn't have been any older than I was, so early twenties perhaps? I couldn't be sure, since her black hair was sticking in long strings across her face, and the angle and the darkness made her appear unhelpfully blurry. She might have been older, but she was barely five feet tall, and even soaking as she was, couldn't weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds. She was wearing a black t-shirt and blue skinny jeans that would have accentuated her thin figure, if they weren't torn in a dozen places each. It would be a stretch to still call them clothes, the way they hung off her body like rags. Although most of it seemed to have washed away, there were still streaks of blood that painted her chest, hands, and face, further complicating my paranoia.

Furthermore, but most importantly, she was dead.

I figured that out when I first reached down to her lying on the grass. Her skin was cold to the touch, and I couldn't feel any pulse in her wrist. Or her other wrist, when I tried again. Or her neck. Even my last-ditch effort of putting my ear to her bloody chest yielded no sound of a heartbeat. If she was already dead, why the hell did I put her in my car? Why was I still driving home? What was I going to do with her? What was wrong with me?

I hoped I'd figure out the answers to those questions before I got home.

I didn't.

Even after the rain had let up about forty minutes into the drive, and I had pulled into the driveway fifteen minutes after that, I had no answers. I just potentially screwed up a crime scene, took the body, and brought it to my house. I couldn't explain why. Never have I ever tried to do anything remotely like this, so why on earth would I be so determined to take a goddamned human corpse home like a stray dog? I couldn't even dump it. I had many opportunities;

anytime on the drive back I could have pulled over, opened the door, and kicked her out onto the side of the road and drove off. Or while carrying her back to the car, I could have just dropped her in a bush. Or even when I first saw her!

I could have just turned around and walked away.

But I couldn't. Despite every single cell in my body screaming 'no', I couldn't resist. Even now, all I knew was that I had to get rid of her somehow so that I didn't get arrested. I needed to drive off to some backroad and toss her into a ditch. I wanted to. I

had

to.

But instead, I scooped her up and quickly shuffled inside, closing and locking the front door behind me.

Was this really how it was going to be? Surely I wouldn't get away with this- I wasn't that lucky. I had neighbours- surely one of them went for an early-morning jog and saw me carrying a corpse into my house. They would call the police, and then I would be arrested because I literally couldn't stop myself from shoving a dead girl into my car.

She had dried off a decent amount during the car ride, so she was only slightly damp as I brought her into the small living room, turned on the overhead light, and laid her onto the couch. Not that I could even bring myself to care about the moisture potentially ruining the upholstery. Or the blood.

As I stood back up straight, I looked down at the girl. Her face was still mostly covered by her own wet hair, and I almost reflexively reached forward. I didn't tend to go outside much, but as the skin of my fingers brushed against her cheeks I couldn't help but notice how pale she was in comparison to myself. She was by no means the colour of an eggshell, but she had the complexion of a person who had spent twenty years indoors. That was understandable, though. Dead bodies get pale, because the blood isn't flowing anymore.

In that brief moment that my finger rested on her cheek, I gingerly swiped away some of the damp, stringy, black locks of hair back behind her ear. Now that I wasn't in a dark and rainy forest, or driving through a thunderstorm, I could get a good, long look at her face.

She was definitely in her very early twenties, and truthfully was quite attractive- or at least, she had

been

attractive when she was alive. It wasn't right to call a dead person pretty. Still, she had a slender face that went well with her skinny body. Smooth cheeks reached down to lips that seemed decidedly average, underneath a small and adorable nose. A thick dusting of dark freckles was splattered from ear to ear, as if she had run out of spoons and decided to eat chocolate pudding by loading it into a shotgun instead. Her hair, now tucked out of the way, was not long at all- more like a short, shaggy bob cut. Frankly, it looked good on her. Or, it would have, if she was alive. You get my point.

There were no visible scars or wounds that I could see from her exposed skin, which meant that the injuries that killed her were certainly hidden underneath her clothes. In fact, her clothes were pretty much the only indication that she was even dead. If they weren't torn up so badly and stained with crimson as they were, I might have just mistaken her for being asleep. At least, until my gaze flitted up to reach her eyes.

They were half-open, letting me clearly see her irises- a pale blue that would have been piercing had they not been unfocused and lax. In those eyes was an emptiness that left me uneasy. I had only seen that look once before, but the empty gaze from my mother had stuck with me for a long time. Looking at this girl, she had the same eyes. Through her pupils was a voided space, a darkness that could have easily resembled a glass marble. There was no life there. Not anymore. The emptiness was potent enough to send a chill from the lengths of my scruffy brown hair to the very tips of my toes.

I couldn't bear it and moved my hand over her eyelids, gently tugging them downwards. When her dead eyes were closed, I could finally breathe again. I had to take several moments before I acted again. It almost felt wrong to touch her now- as if carrying her out of a forest and dropping her on my couch wasn't bad enough. I was hesitant as I slowly patted her sides and emptied the pockets of her jeans.

A little plastic box of mint Tic-Tacs and a few pieces of paper that looked like they used to be receipts, but were too faded and soggy to be legible. Three-o-clock in the morning and I was rifling through the pockets of a corpse. No matter how I tried to look at the situation, everything was fucked. Even the girl almost seemed to be judging me. Her lifeless eyes were half-open and settled on my face, the darkened pupils reflecting my own doubts.

Wait.

I flinched backwards, falling over the table when she blinked. While I was scrambling away, she squeezed her eyes a few more times and groaned. She brought one hand up to the side of her head and winced.

"Ugh, what? Where..."

Only now did she fully seem to realise that I was there.- standing several feet away and very on-guard. Her eyes narrowed and began to slowly rise up to a sitting position on the couch.

"Where am I- Who are you?" She must have felt the moisture covering her skin and looked down to see her damp, torn clothes. "What did you do?"

She stood up angrily and took a hard step towards me. I backed up even further, holding up a hand defensively.

"You're at my house! My name is Nick. What's yours?"

Her gaze didn't soften, but it didn't get worse. It was extremely unsettling- being interrogated by a person who was dead just twenty seconds ago. Wait, no. Looking in her eyes, they were the same. A taxidermied animal. Two glassy orbs that didn't even reflect the light of the room. Albeit hardened with confusion and the obvious decision of fight-or-flight, her eyes told me everything I needed to know. She was standing. She was walking. She was speaking, and asking questions. Her skin had even regained some of the colour, bringing her shade back to an acceptable level of pale.

But she was still dead.

"Tasha. What did you do to me?"

My voice faltered for a moment, until she took another aggressive step forward. She may have been almost a foot shorter than myself, but she carried a weight of intimidation that was unmatched- likely because she was a talking corpse.

"I didn't do anything! I found you in the woods and brought you here. I swear, nothing else happened!"

She retained her posture for a moment. I could see every muscle in her body tensing, judging my words, waiting for a reason to attack. Heartbeat after heartbeat of silence passed between us. I was terrified. The feeling only slightly lessened when she dropped her shoulders and seemed to relax just a tiny bit.

"I don't know why, but I believe you. So what- you take a walk through the woods, find a girl who was passed out, and take her home? If you were planning anything perverted, I'm gonna call the cops."

I wasn't sure what she was planning on calling the cops with, since she didn't have a phone, but I didn't want to take chances.

"You weren't passed out!" I said quickly. "When I found you in the woods, you weren't sleeping."

Once more, her eyes narrowed with visible hostility. "Wait, you kidnapped me? Did you drug me? Why can't I remember?"

"I didn't drug you or anything, I swear! I didn't kidnap you, I didn't knock you out, or do anything hurtful to you!"

Her gaze was like hardened steel- a drill boring into my face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

I took a deep breath, swallowed, and tried not to let my voice shake too much as I spoke.

"When I found you in the woods, you were dead."

Five minutes later, the girl- Tasha- and I sat across the kitchen table from another, not making eye contact. I focused on the full mug of hot chocolate resting on the table in front of me, looking at Tasha in my peripherals. Tasha seemed to be staring at her own mug, but I knew better- she was flexing her fingers and looking intently at the dried bloodstains splattered on her hands. I wondered if she knew that a lot more of it was on her face. She probably did. Either way, she took a long, slow sip from the mug before setting it back on the table with a sigh.

"Explain it to me again."

"I was driving home from a movie, and then I just felt this... urge to pull over. I couldn't help myself. There was no reason why, I just did it. I walked into the woods during the storm, and found you dead on the ground. Again, I don't know why, but I picked you up and brought you back to the car. I drove us here and brought you inside. Then you woke up, and you know the rest."

Tasha's fingers traced the rim of the mug as she stared intently at the liquid within. I couldn't tell the emotion on her face- it was like gazing at a brick wall. It was several seconds before she spoke.

"You're sure that I was dead? I wasn't just sleeping?"

I began to stammer out a response, but Tasha cut me off just as quickly and stood up from her chair. "-No pulse, no heartbeat, and cold to the touch, yeah. I heard you the first time." She began pacing the floor, wringing her hands together. "It's just- that can't be right! I'm alive now, so I couldn't have been dead."

"Tasha, I know what I felt."

"And I know that I'm standing here, talking to you, so which one of us is wrong?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" I offered. Tasha paused and thought for a moment.

"I..." She faltered. "I was celebrating my birthday by going to the Taylor Swift concert. I was driving back from Philadelphia and stopped at a hotel. Then I woke up here."

"Your birthday, which is when?"

"May thirteenth."

My eyes widened. "So the last thing you remember is the night of May thirteenth?"

"Yeah..." Tasha said, cautiously. "Why? What day is it?"

I swallowed. "The twenty-sixth-"

"What?" Tasha cut me off. "I did not lose two weeks of my life!"

"-of October."

The silence painted the room like ink, only parting as Tasha squeaked out with wide eyes.

"What?"

"Today is the twenty-sixth of October."

"You're lying."

I shook my head.Tasha stared with wide eyes. Immediately, her head flicked around, and I could tell she was looking for something- anything- to tell her the date. I wordlessly pulled my own phone free and slid it across the table. Tasha didn't question and snatched it like a drowning sailor would reach for a buoy.

I couldn't see the screen, but I could see the way Tasha's eyes narrowed in disbelief at the time and date staring back at her.

"No. No!" Tasha growled. "No, no, no! What kind of a stupid prank is this? Did Hailey set this up?"

"I have no idea who that is."

"Fuck!" Tasha slid my phone back to me and buried her face in her hands. I, on the other hand, decided to chase an idle thought and picked up the phone.

"What is your full name?"

"Tasha Addler Peckett. Addler with two D's, and Peckett with two T's."

Google was opened, and my fingers typed quickly to fill the search bar.

tasha addler peckett missing

Unsurprisingly, the results were to be expected. The top link took me to a database for missing people, several of which were named Tasha. Only one had the name I was looking for, and tapping that, a picture filled the small screen, My breath dropped.

It was her. Her skin was slightly less pale and her hair slightly shorter, but it was still the same shade of black. The same splatter of dark freckles looked back at me, and the piercing blue eyes were unmistakable. More alive, yes, but the same nonetheless. I scrolled down to read the entry out loud.

"Tasha Addler Peckett, daughter of Marissa and Dean Peckett, was reported missing by her parents two days after her twenty-second birthday. Marissa and Dean attempted and failed to contact their daughter several times, and officially filed a missing persons report on the date of May 15th, 2023."

Tasha looked back up at me, and I could see her glassy eyes were full of tears. I myself had to fight back a sob of sympathy as I kept reading.

"Tasha was last seen attending a Taylor Swift concert on the night of her birthday, May 13th, as proven by multiple posts on social media with pictures and videos of her at the location. Records and debit card statements show that Tasha had checked into a hotel that night, but had not checked out. There were no signs of a struggle, and none of Tasha's belongings were left behind."

I decided that it was easier to stare at the phone than to look at the girl in front of me.

"If you have any information regarding the disappearance of Tasha Addler Peckett, please contact your local police force. If you live outside Canada, ask them to make a request for assistance from the Canadian National Center for Missing Persons and Unidentified Remains."

The silence could be cut with a spoon. A thick, claustrophobic blanket enveloping the room and drowning the two of us in sorrow. I could only imagine what was going through Tasha's head at that moment. She almost seemed to stare through me, her expression blank as if she were gazing at a speck on the wall rather than a person. The only indication I had of emotion were the tears making streaks down her face.

"Five months. I've been missing for five months."

"Tasha, I-"

She cut me off, her stare hardening and focusing on me. "Was there

anything

else when you found me? Anyone else? Any cars?"

"Well, no, but I wasn't really paying attention."

"Why not?" She hissed.

"Because I was a little more focused on trying to figure out why I was taking a corpse back to my car!"

Tasha rolled her eyes. "I'm not dead, dumbass! Look at me! I'm talking! I'm breathing! You said you couldn't feel a pulse, well fucking try again!"

She stretched her arm across the table, palm up. Despite what I felt earlier, and the lack of life in her eyes, it was obvious that she was indeed alive. A corpse doesn't exactly make for a good conversationalist. However, she was clearly agitated, so I decided to try and do what I could to alleviate her concerns. I reached for her wrist and gently placed two fingers underneath her thumb. Her skin was warmer than it was when I carried her inside, but not by much.

Nothing.

I readjusted the position slightly. Still nothing. My eyes narrowed, and I moved my fingers again.

Still, there was nothing. Tasha must have noticed my concern. "You can feel it, right?"

"No, I can't."

Tasha's own eyes narrowed, and she used her other hand and pressed it to her chest, in the spot above her heart. Her expression immediately turned to one of confusion, and she moved her hand around a few times, obviously trying to feel a beat. Several moments in silence passed.

"What the..." Tasha began.

I swallowed. "Maybe we're both right."

"What do you mean?" Tasha said, worried.

"Well, you're walking around and talking, but your heart isn't beating."

Tasha remained silent while I continued.

"Cardiac arrest is fatal after ten minutes, and I found you about an hour ago. By all measures, you shouldn't be alive."

Tasha stayed quiet for several moments. "Should I go to a hospital?"

I thought of all the different possibilities. None of them ended well.

"If we go to a hospital, they are going to have a lot of questions that neither of us can answer. We are two complete strangers, and you're dead."

"So what's your plan? Wait and see what happens?"

"Do you have any better ideas?"

Tasha visibly gave up and let herself go limp, resting her forehead against the table as she sighed. "No. I just... What the hell does this mean?"

I frowned, but let the silence permeate the room for several seconds. Eventually, the curtain grew too thick that it was uncomfortable- well, more than the situation already was.

"We should sleep on it. Reevaluate in the morning and make a new decision then."

Tasha didn't look up, instead speaking into the table with her face still planted. "I guess if I was dead in a forest, a couch wouldn't be too bad."

"You don't need to sleep on the couch, Leonard moved out last week so the other bedroom is empty."