A Tale of Revenge

Author's Note: This chapter is pretty bad. Lots of violence and blood shedding and even a bit of an explosion. This story is meant to entertain. I seriously don't want to be a blood whore. Is that what they call them? Enjoy!

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It was the day after Wyattr's first nocturnal visit when I remembered what my father had always told me. Knowledge is power. I would need that power and more to fight the hideous beast that had become my nightmare.

Turning to my computer, I searched the Internet, reading everything I could find about those that hunted at night, that fed on the blood and despair of others—the so called Night Walkers, Nosferatu, Bloodsuckers, the Vampire. There were stories everywhere filled with mostly conjecture and little fact. Some stated wooden stakes were the only way to kill them, others said daylight, or silver. Nothing pointed to one certain way to make them die.

I read stories of Vlad the Impaler, the first Dracula, and his reign of terror in Moldavia. The horrors this one man had committed upon tens of thousands of people, impaling them upon wooden stakes buried in the ground and leaving them to die foul and painful deaths brought tears to my eyes.

But none of this got me any closer to the information I needed. I had to find my salvation elsewhere, for once, the Internet didn't hold all the answers.

Daylight came once more after another night of checking locks, jumping at every noise, listening for the scratchings at the windows that would once more call to me of Wyatt's return. I locked our house, the bright sunlight shining warmly down on me, feeling an eerie sense I would never see my home again. But I was determined. I had to do this.

I reached the city just before sundown and found a motel. Of course, it was seedy, as the section of town I felt drawn to was a warren of alleys connected by neon lit streets. Triple x-rated movie houses and book stores mixed with darkened store fronts that stood decayed and abandoned. The hopeless stared at me as I walked along, and I felt my heart harden just a little at their plight. So many seemed homeless and needy, a hand out for coins that might at first have me searching, but soon had me brushing them aside as I tried desperately to find that which I needed.

Prostitutes called out to passing cars or made crude remarks to me as I walked by. I was threatened more than once by scantily dressed streetwalkers out to sell their bodies for rent money, food money or even that next fix of whatever poison they craved. I was propositioned more than once, but I kept my head down, my eyes averted from the men who stared or followed in my wake, shouting obscenities.

It was in the most unlikely place that I found what I was searching for, a store called "Hardbodies" run by a skinny white guy with glasses and funky teeth. He wore leather, showing off a girlish stomach and a hairless chest. His nipples were pierced, small golden hoops swinging as he moved. He had huge tattoos over his arms and shoulders, but I didn't want to look at him long enough to discern their shapes.

Something had called me into the store, almost as if it were fate that I find the card which changed my chances on a board situated at the front of the store. I ignored the looks of the pierced boy, the way he stared at my jeans and preppy-looking button-down shirt. I knew I stood out in this depraved part of the world, but I didn't care. I was looking for information, not a critique of my fashion sense. The card, hidden by a few other notices, caught my attention as I rifled through the want ads.

Buried under the 3x5 cards advertising "Slave for fetish torture games wanted", and "Kinky little M Sub looking for Kinkier Bi M Dom" was one that caught my attention. It was white, business card size, and held a phone number and a single word. That word was "Hunter".

I took the card and slipped it into the pocket of my jeans. Then I hurried out of that place, feeling like a layer of filth covered my body. I desperately wanted a shower. I hurried back to my motel room, cutting through one of the dark alleys in my haste. I was scared, feeling unprotected and vulnerable outside of my own home, so I kept one hand holding the gold cross which had saved my life before.

Halfway through the alley I knew I'd made a mistake. I heard the voices, low and menacing, coming from in front of me. I wanted to turn and run, but I didn't want to draw attention to myself. Instead, I snuck closer to some empty boxes and tried to hide myself in the shadows.

"Aww, come on, baby. You know you want this." The voice was cruel and taunting. I chanced a look and then couldn't look away.

She was beautiful in an earthy way, dark brown hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of her head and wrapped in the fist of one of the four big men standing around her. She was naked, huge breasts jiggling above a tiny waist and full, rounded hips. Her mound was thickly covered with brown curls and was being pawed by another man. She struggled against them, kneeling in the filth of the alley, her mouth stubbornly closed against the huge cock the one man was trying to shove down her throat. Her hands were on his legs, pushing at him frantically, her nails pushing into his jeans.

The man mauling her pussy grabbed the entire mound in his hand and squeezed cruelly. The girl opened her mouth to scream, the sound cut off as the cock was shoved in her mouth, forcefully pushed until I saw her gagging around the wide shaft.

"Now don't be biting that, girlie," the one on his knees behind her said, his hands coming up to pull and twist her nipples. "Otherwise, I'd have to pull these beauties clean off your tits."

She moaned and squealed as her breasts were tortured, pinched and pulled. I watched her cheeks bulge as the man above her continued to force his cock further into her mouth. He used her hair to pull her head forward, thrusting his hips until her nose was buried in the dense forest of crinkly hair at the base of his cock. I saw her arms flailing as he held her there, depriving her of necessary oxygen.

Finally one of the other two men, both of whom were pulling on their own cocks, opened his mouth. "Hey, don't kill her yet, I want some of that while it's still moving."

He relented and I saw the girl's face, her cheeks bright red, her eyes rolling wildly and tears streaming in a steady flow. Her mouth looked stretched and obscene as her lips tried to open to gulp down precious oxygen. I heard her struggles for air from where I was standing and the men's voices as they continued their verbal abuse.

The man behind her got up, pulling the girl to her feet. She could barely stand and he was forced to hold her up, his hand wrapped around her waist, grabbing another handful of her pubic hair. He kicked her feet apart, spreading her open as the other two guys gathered around. His hand came down and he crudely spanked the lips of her exposed pussy, laughing as they turned bright red. He reached down and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock and rubbing it lewdly against the girl. Her hips moved more as she tried to get away but the man was relentless, finally grabbing her hips with both hands and forcing himself into her.

His face looked strained as he pushed himself in to his limit, finally ending up with his balls slapping against her clit. He pushed against her, pushing her face into the man who was face fucking her, his body starting to tense and jerk a little with every thrust.

"Damn, this pussy is tight boys," the man moaned, pulling on the poor girl's bruised hips. He started pumping into her, his sharp hip bones barreling into her plump bare ass with every move. She moaned, an almost animalistic sound, taking my eyes off the men violating her naked flesh. Her eyes roved wildly over the two men who were left, moving from one to the other, watching them as they fisted their own hard cocks, jerking off in their excitement to get at her.

Then her eyes turned to me. I saw her focus on me, hidden even as I was by the shadows of the boxes and the dim light of the alley. Her eyes met mine, and for one moment I heard her voice in my head. Her thoughts flowed along with mine and she called my name, her voice soft and beautiful, making the name Kiana sound like music.

She laughed, in my mind I heard the trilling sound and saw her head back, her hands on her shapely hips. Her breasts moved sensually with her enthusiastic giggles, and for one moment, I wanted her. I wanted to touch her and to take her, to gently taste the flesh these men were so brutally violating. I saw myself kneeling before her, bending to caress her ankle with my lips. My body was as naked as hers, my breasts taut, and my nipples tight buds of needs as I sought to please the earthly vision before me. I felt my hands reach down for the buttons on my blouse and I started to step forward into the dim light the scene highlighted.

"Oh, bitch, you feel good." The man riding the girl brought his hand down hard on her ass, spanking the smooth flesh and breaking the trance-like state I was in. Her eyes broke contact with mine and she seemed to almost glare around in impatience at the interruption...

Then I saw them. I saw the red glow of those eyes that told me of her true being. I moved back in revulsion, not realizing my blouse was half open as I started to move away from the horror I knew was going to occur. The man in her mouth was coming, I saw him jerking against her and her swallowing, her body suddenly calm. He rammed into her a few more times as he started to soften. And then I heard him scream.

"The bitch bit me!" He tried to pull from her mouth, but she hung on, sucking and suckling the holes she had made in his cock. It filled with blood, hardening again even as he sought to get away. She reached up, her nails turning into talon-like claws she wrapped around the man's thighs, holding him in place.

Despite his struggle, the other three men didn't come to his aid, and she started to drain him, her body seeming to glow as she drank the life giving blood. He collapsed under her to the floor of the filthy alley, his body twitching lifelessly when she finally released him. His blood stained her lips; her eyes glowed and seemed on fire. She stood, her back arched, her ass pushing back against the man who was still thrusting into her, his eyes closed as he savored the feel of her tight cunt, before she reached out for the next man.

He came to her happily, despite stepping over the body of his friend, and stood close, tilting his head as he stared into her glowing eyes. Her mouth opened, her lips stretched over jaws grown large, her chin pushing forward to almost impossible lengths. She bit into his neck and fed as he continued to stroke his twitching shaft. He moaned and jerked, his cum splattering against her naked body as she fed. She laughed with glee when she dropped his body on top of his friend's and pulled forward the next victim.

I wanted to shout to the man raping her to open his eyes, to see what was happening. I saw his body shaking, even as his friend was being killed in front of them. This wasn't a changing like it had been with Wyatt. The vampire was feeding, feasting on the blood of the men who had dragged her into this alley to rape her. And while they were scum and deserved to be thrown in jail for their brutal acts, they were human scum and not cattle-like fodder for the undead.

I finally found my voice and my feet at the same time. I rushed forward, screaming at the man to stop. He opened his eyes when he heard me, seeing a crazy woman rushing him, her blouse undone, her plain white bra exposed to his eyes. He turned to the girl he was raping and saw her finish, dropping the last body on top of the other two. She smiled over her shoulder at him, her needle sharp teeth dripping blood out of a mouth too wide and too large to be human.

He shrieked at the sight and tried to pull away but she turned, showing that incredible speed I was getting used to seeing. She grabbed him, toying with him, her thirst obviously satiated by the other three. Her nails, razor sharp, tore slices in his shirt and pants, easily ripping through the heavy denim and flannel.

When he was naked, she held him helpless in one hand, seeming incredibly strong as he struggled to get away. Her eyes looked him over, sneering at the pot belly and scrawny legs his clothing had hidden. His cock, once a mighty weapon he'd used to subdue her, now lay tiny and feeble, wet and limp against his thigh. She reached down with one finger, flipping it with just the tip of her nail, drawing just a tiny bit of blood. She brought her finger to her lip and licked it, smiling dangerously with sharp long teeth, and blood coated lips.

I reached up and wrapped my hand around my cross, feeling the heat of it start to tingle in my hand.

"Let him go!" I shouted, trying not to look in her eyes.

She laughed, a hoarse ugly sound. And as I stared, she changed to the form I had seen in my mind, her body radiant in the soft light. She no longer held the man, even though I knew he was still there. Her eyes were deep brown, lovely and gentle as she called to me. I felt a wrench in my body as my mind pulled me forward, longing to touch this beautiful woman.

Then, as if a curtain had dropped, the vision was suddenly gone. I shook my head and looked back at her, careful not to look into her eyes. I knew she had powers I couldn't guess at, telepathy and mind control only minor gifts in a being that wasn't human.

She stared at me, her mouth opening in shock as I stopped coming to her. Her hand came forward, held out from her body, her fingers open and pointing at me. Her voice was low and girlish, softly feminine as she called to me. "Come."

"I don't think so." I felt the glow from my cross flow through my body. I released it, letting it slip down until it fell naturally against my throat, the eerie golden light coming from it shining out at her.

She screamed and dropped the struggling man to the alley, stepping backwards and away from me until her back was against one brick wall. Her hands came up and covered her eyes, her body tensing in pain as the brilliant light encased her shaking form.

A voice from inside of me urged me forward, told me what I had to do next. With what seemed incredible strength to me, I reached out and pulled down a piece of board, cracking it in half as if it were a tooth pick. I stalked the struggling vampire, stepping over the fallen man without looking at him. Grabbing her hands in one of my own, I pulled them down to expose her face to my cross.

She shrieked even louder, her face shuddering in either pain or terror, I didn't care which. The stake in my hand seemed filled with power and I raised it, then thrust it with all the strength I could into her chest, not stopping until I felt it rip out of my hand and hit the wall behind her.

I heard the man behind me, cowering and blathering, then running out of the alley, screaming. The vampire's mouth ripped open with its own hideous screech of pain. The noise built until it seemed to reverberate off the walls around me, shaking the garbage strewn throughout the alley. It stopped suddenly as her mouth clamped closed, the glow fading from her eyes. Her body straightened out, stretching like a rubber band pulled too far, and then it suddenly exploded.

Pieces of her flesh flew over me, blood and other foul liquid splattered against my skin, all of it so cold it felt like ice. Her bones exploded, showering around me, sticking in the waste coating my hair. I cringed back from the mess, frantically trying to wipe my eyes of the stinging goo so I could see to run out of there. I pulled the tail of my blouse out of my jeans, using the clean ends to wipe my eyes. The alley looked like a bomb had gone off, black blood splattered, pieces of organs, hair, and bones blown everywhere. I heard a scream and ran without looking, not stopping until I reached the motel.

The key shook in my foul-covered hand as I tried to get it into the lock. It took a few tries before it clicked home and turned. I pushed the door open, locked and bolted it quickly behind me and ran to the bathroom. Before I could even pull the clothing from my body, I was bent over the toilet, my body heaving as my stomach rebelled at what I had seen and done. I still felt the give of her flesh as the wood pushed into it, the sort of pop it made. The way she had died, the violence of it all, was abhorrent to me, against everything I'd ever thought of or believed in.

When my stomach calmed, I stood and dropped the filthy clothes, leaving them in a pile in the middle of the cold bathroom floor. I climbed into the chipped tub and dragged the curtain around it, closing myself into a world of steam and heat as the water washed her blood off of my skin.

I stood under that stream for twenty minutes, washing my hair twice, rubbing the tiny soap bar over my skin again and again until I couldn't feel the ice of her blood anymore.

Then I got out and wrapped a towel around myself. I sat on the bed in the other room and stared at the card I'd pulled from the dingy back pocket of my jeans—the card which carried the number that might hold the answers I needed to have.

I stared at the card, lost, without thought or hope.