A Vampire Tale with a Twist

It was almost midnight by the time Eztli was finished with Angela, inside his dungeon. She was utterly spent by this point and did not stir when he stood and glided away silently, leaving her resting on her side, on the smooth, stone floor. Returning refreshed and resplendent in a new, dark-blue suit, white shirt and cravat, he bent down and stroked her sweaty forehead briefly. When this elicited no response, he sighed loudly and scooped her up, then carried her up to the bedroom, just as he had done the previous night.

"You best not get used to me carrying you everywhere," he remarked, while depositing her inside the bed once more. "Remember, if you want to survive in my world, you must be both smart and strong."

Angela's eyelids fluttered.

"Eztli," she whispered, weakly. "You drained me... I need... need..."

"Yes, fräulein, you need my blood," he said, finishing the sentence for her. "And you'll have it, before long. But not yet."

She registered his words with a feeling of dismay. Opening her eyes partially - in itself, an effort, in her present state - she gazed at his handsome face in silence, too worn out to even argue.

What more does my impossibly beautiful master have planned for me?

she thought to herself.

What would make him want to keep me in this weakened state?

She was wracking her tired brains, imagining the kinds of torture he had planned, when he smiled at her and said,

"Don't let your imagination run away with you, dear. I have no desire to keep you looking like this for a moment longer than necessary."

This made her frown, with her womanly pride demanding answers. "Looking like what? What do I look like?"

"Like a sick person," he replied, calmly. "More specifically, someone with a fever."

As he picked up her phone and passed it to her, Angela understood what he wanted her to do, and she groaned out loud.

"Oh no... No, no. I don't want to talk to my parents, right now. I can barely keep my eyes open. Please Eztli... don't do this to me."

Eztli's pale gaze never left her own as he deposited the phone into the palm of her hand and closed her unresisting fingers around it.

"Come now, fräulein," he said, giving her a knowing look. "I distinctly remember you saying, your mother needs you. The least you can do is give her a call."

"But... but... it's the middle of the night," she stammered, after glancing at the screen and noting the time. "Surely, she'll be asleep."

"In that case, you can leave her a message, so she can hear just how sick you are." He raised an eyebrow at her, expectantly.

"You won't back down until I call her, will you?" Angela asked, her resistance fading.

He did not bother to reply, and after pausing to clear her throat - it was still sore, courtesy of all the screaming she did that night - she did as he suggested and dialed her mother's number with a shaking hand.

"Make sure to switch on the camera," he told her, while turning and moving away. She did not really want to, but she found herself flicking the camera on, anyway. Was it because she was afraid of disobeying him? No, of course not, she told herself firmly. But even as she thought this, her back began to burn, where his whip had lashed her. Reminding her of what happened the last time she provoked him.

"Angela! Darling! I've been so worried about you!" her mother's voice came, snapping her back to attention. She looked down at the small screen, and said,

"Hi Mom... Sorry to call so late, but I had a fever and fell asleep, earlier."

"Don't apologize, my darling, I wasn't sleeping anyway," her mother replied, while rubbing her red-rimmed eyes. She took a long look at Angela then went on, "My darling! You look terrible! Absolutely terrible! Are you sure your fever has broken? What are you taking to treat it? Have you seen a doctor yet?"

Angela gave her a wan smile.

"Mother, please. Don't worry about me. Just tell me about Dad. How is he?"

"He's still in hospital, darling. They're planning to operate on him, first thing tomorrow. I stayed with him for as long as I could, until visiting hours were over."

They discussed the finer details of the scheduled operation, as explained to Angela's mother by their doctor. It was not a very long conversation, with both of them too tired to chit-chat like they usually did. Nonetheless, Angela almost dozed off toward the end, prompting her mother to declare,

"I'm really worried about you, Angela. You look as pale as a ghost. Say... Why don't I send Auntie Mae over, to look after you? That way, I can at least stop worrying about you while all this is going on with your father."

"No, mother, please," Angela protested, in alarm. "I'm not as bad as I look, honest. Just worry about Dad and please call me or message me when he gets out of surgery."

"Are you sure, baby?" her mother said, persistently. "You know it's no trouble for your Auntie, she loves you so much..."

Angela closed her eyes for a moment, so she would not have to see the anxious look on her mother's face as she told her, "I know, Mom, but I meant what I said. Look, I must get some more rest, OK? Love you, Mom."

"I love you too, baby," Angela's mother replied. "Please, take care of yourself."

After reassuring her mother once again that she would be fine, Angela hung up and slumped against the pillows wearily.

"God, that was painful," she sighed to herself. A moment later, she felt a familiar dark presence nearby and looked up to see Eztli standing at the foot of the bed, watching her. Despite how stunning he appeared in his elegant, dark blue suit, she could not suppress a note of annoyance as she asked him,

"Why did you make me do that? Ha?"

"I didn't make you do anything," he replied without a moment's pause. "Earlier this evening, you expressed a desire to be with your parents and support them in their time of need. I merely provided you the opportunity to fulfil that desire, without placing you or them in danger."

In vain, Angela searched for traces of guile in the flawless, preternaturally calm features. Upon finding none, she harrumphed loudly, saying, "You're so clever, Eztli, I can't argue with you and win. But just so you know, my mother's worried sick about me, after that little chat. I wouldn't be surprised to learn she was talking to auntie Mae right now, asking her to go look after me till I'm better."

Eztli's elegant brows knitted together as he listened. When she was finished, he glided closer and wordlessly, pressed his wrist against her lips. He did not let her drink her fill, however, but observed her closely for a minute or so. Then, as color began to return to her lips, he pulled his wrist away and took a step back.

"That'll do. Now, go get cleaned up while I select your outfit for tonight." He pointed toward the door with a nonchalant wave of his hand - a graceful yet commanding gesture that had her jumping to obey instantly.

Damn, he really has trained me well.

She thought to herself, as she strolled past him and out of the room. But when she looked behind her, intending to make a joke about it, he was gone, having glided away without her realizing it. Chagrined, she made her way to the ground floor and took a quick shower in the huge, luxurious bathroom. It felt good to wash the blood and the sweat off her, especially now that the skin on her back was completely healed. Only the special mark he had burned into her ass cheek was still there, she noted with interest. Clearly, when he seared it into her skin, multiple times, he made it permanent. She shuddered at the memory, then stepped in front of the mirror to get a better look.

Angela was busy craning her neck, trying to decipher the fancy, curved letters inside the brand on her shapely buttock, when Eztli appeared, as silently as he had left her. Setting down the bundle of clothes he was carrying, he looked at her and smiled knowingly.

"You're wondering what it says."

"Yes. I guess, I am." She averted her gaze while making the admission and so did not see him stepping closer. A heartbeat later she felt his fingertips on her skin, tracing the outline of the letters he had burned into it.

"

Sanguis, in omne tempus

," he recited, slowly. "Blood, for all eternity."

Angela felt her breath catch in her throat, at his words and his touch, both. Afraid to speak in case she ruined the moment, she gazed up at him in silence, wishing she could put her feelings into words.

"There's no need for you to speak, my dear," he murmured, gazing back at her. "Remember, everything you think, I hear."

Oh fuck.

She thought, helplessly.

He's going to make me melt.

Contrary to his habit, he refrained from replying to her latest thought, running his thumb across her cheek in silence, for a few moments. And then, at the height of the tender scene that saw Angela's insides turning to mush, he exhaled loudly and said,

"We need to talk about your hunting methods, fräulein. Or should I say, your mistakes."

"My m-mistakes?" she stammered, in surprise. He removed his hand from her face and assumed a stern expression, while replying,

"Yes. You are finally well enough to hear it, I believe. And you need to hear it, too, before we head outside and go hunting again."

All of a sudden, it occurred to Angela that everything Eztli had done to her that night had a secondary and, to her mind at least, sinister purpose. That purpose being to sap her of energy and make her thirsty for blood, yet again.

So, that's why you didn't let me drink my fill, earlier

, she thought, glaring at him.

You wanted to leave me starving, so I wouldn't object to murdering some more people tonight.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Eztli.

"Don't make me whip you again, fräulein," he warned. "As I assure you will happen, if you continue with your present line of thought."

The words had a sobering effect on her, causing her to exclaim,

"But... but... That's not fair! I'm only human! I can't control my every thought!"

He threw back his head and rolled his eyes in annoyance - and then, with a speed that could only be described as supernatural, he slammed into her and pushed her backwards and then up, up, into the air. A second later he had pinned her against the bathroom wall, some ten feet off the ground, with one hand wrapped around her throat, and the other pushing against her chest, for good measure.

"You are not human anymore, fräulein," he hissed. "You are a vampire. As for what I want? Right now, I just want you to listen. Your first hunt was a disaster. If those men had ganged up on you, they could have overpowered you and hurt you, or worse."

"Gnhh... Gnhh..." she gurgled, grasping his wrist and trying to pull it away from her throat. He shook his head at her and went on, uninterrupted,

"You think I'm exaggerating, right? That because you managed to kill two of them, it was a successful hunt. Don't kid yourself, dear. You barely scraped by, and if I hadn't been there, it would not have ended well for you. No, don't even think about making up excuses. I know that I took your blood beforehand and that you were feeling weak. But fräulein... you still shouldn't have let one of them lie on top of you. That was your first mistake, right there."

She gave up trying to speak and swallowed hard, making her neck muscles move under his fingers. If only he could loosen the hold...

"No, fräulein. You'll not draw a free breath until I'm finished. Who knows, it might help you focus on what I'm saying." He gave her a humorless grin before continuing, "Now, let me tell you about your second mistake - stopping to put on your coat while letting the third man get away. Such a dumb,

human

thing to do, worrying about a bit of nakedness. I was going to punish you for it, personally... but that miserable man saved me the effort, when he decided to kick you and snap your ribs."

Angela's eyes bulged. She was starting to feel dizzy, due to restricted blood flow to her brain, and his handsome face swam before her eyes as she worked to process what he just told her. Did he really let her get hurt deliberately, because of some mistake she made? How cruel and horrible of him! After all, it was only her first hunt.

Reading her indignant thoughts, Eztli snorted.

"Yes, it was only your first hunt, and it could've easily been your last," he stated, with chilling certainty. "Now, if you're smart, you'll remember what I just told you and you'll avoid making the same mistakes this time. If not..."

Leaving the sentence unfinished, he released his grip on her at last, and allowed them both to drift downward. Angela held onto him, coughing and retching, until her breathing returned to normal - or what passed as 'normal', for a vampire. When they were standing on solid ground once more and she was able to speak, the first question she asked him was,

"What happens if I make more mistakes, tonight? Ha?"

She was shaking with anger as she asked this, but it did not phase him.

"It all depends on who is watching," he replied calmly.

While she pondered this cryptic answer, he picked up the first item of clothing he had brought her - a simple yet elegant black dress - and held it up for her. When she did not move, he helped her by lifting her arms up and slipping it on, over her head. Next came the sheer black stockings, which he put on for her, using the opportunity to run his hands along the backs of her legs, gently. Despite how upset she was, Angela found herself enjoying the attention. Eztli dressing her up made her feel like a doll - a very precious, beautiful doll. When, at the end, he presented her with a pair of shiny black stilettos, she stepped into them willingly, then stood docilely while he looked her over.

"Mhm, you are temptation personified," he stated, with approval. "Just make sure to use it to your advantage, this time."

"About that..." she said, her anxiety returning. "What did you mean when you said, it depends on who's watching? Who could be watching at this hour?"

He took his time answering, as though the question pained him. At her look of pleading, he sighed and said,

"Vampires, fräulein. Who else?"

Angela froze. Belatedly, she recalled Eztli telling her about his kind and how only the strong, smart ones survive. Implied within that statement was the understanding that there were quite a few other vampires out there - only, she had not given it much thought till now. Truth be told, she had even forgotten about the young man she interviewed a couple of days ago, and who, as it turned out, was a vampire just like he claimed.

"Um... Eztli? Other than Trent, how many vampires do you think are out there?" She saw his eyes narrow, as he replied, haughtily,

"I don't

think

, fräulein. I know. In this city, there are currently one thousand and thirteen vampires, besides you and me. I can give you the numbers for all of Europe, America, and the world, too, if you like."

He raised an elegant eyebrow at her, while she stared at him in slack-jawed amazement.

"N-no, thanks," she stammered. "I don't think I need to know how many of us there are, in the world. Do I?"

"I guess not," he replied, shrugging. Taking her hand, he led her out of the bathroom and into the huge atrium that was the ground floor of his impressive home. When they reached the front door, he paused and said, "In future, try to remember, fräulein - I am the original vampyr. That means I'm responsible for creating each one of our kind in existence today. If you're ever curious to know more about them, all you need to do is ask."

It was not an invitation to ask questions right then, she realized. Nonetheless, she could not help but ask,

"If you've created them all, doesn't that mean they all answer to you, as their master?"

His pale eyes flashed, as he replied, "Unfortunately, no. Over time, they have chosen to break their bond to me and follow their own path. But they do fear me, and what I can do to them, if they cross the line. If you ask me, that's the better way to be with most of them."

Angela wanted to ask him if there were any vampires that he considered his friends, but he was clearly finished talking and did not give her the chance. As he led her into the street and straightaway, rose into the air, she saw him pulling the special, heavy fog around them, making them virtually invisible against the dark night sky. Until now, she had thought it was to stop ordinary humans from noticing them, but after what he had just told her, she knew better. The ones he really wished to stay hidden from - because he considered them a real threat - were his own kind.

She was mulling over this, asking herself what would make a vampire turn on the one that gave them eternal life, when his deep voice cut into her thoughts,

"Where does your aunt Mae live, fräulein?"

"Hm? Oh, just downtown..." She rattled off the address without thinking, then looked at him suspiciously. "Hey, why do you ask?"

But he refused to answer, or meet her eye, and as he gathered speed and flew high above the buildings, Angela started to get a bad feeling. Pressed against him with her arms wrapped around his neck, she tried to tell herself she had nothing to worry about. This was Eztli, her handsome, amazing lover, who made her weak at the knees whenever he kissed her... he would not do anything to hurt her, or her family, would he?

*************

Auntie Mae's house was a big, federation style home that had been in the family forever. It was situated in a posh suburb, on the outskirts of the city center, and under normal circumstances Angela loved going there for a visit. Tonight, however, she positively dreaded it. Indeed, she kept hoping she was wrong and that this was not where Eztli was taking them, but then she saw the familiar wide, leafy streets and her heart sank.

"Eztli, please," she begged, anxiously. "Tell me what you're going to do."

He ignored the question, the same way he had ignored every other attempt at communication that she made along the way. On approaching their destination, he slowed down and drifted in absolute silence toward the street. They touched down within sight of Aunt Mae's home, well away from the nearest streetlight, she saw. Eztli pulled her along while gliding forward in his usual fashion, his feet barely touching the ground. At the end of the driveway, under the big old plane tree, he turned to her and said,

"Wait here."

That was all. No explanation, no answer to any of her questions, nothing. There was no way she was going to stay put, she told herself, while he went off and did who-knows-what with her one and only Aunt. She was about to tell him this, too, when he gave her a stern look and shook his head at her, in warning.

"I don't want to mute you, fräulein," he said, under his breath. "But I will do so, if you try to argue with me. It's up to you."

For a moment or two more, he stayed there, staring at her with his pale eyes aglow. Angela felt almost hypnotized by that stare, unable to move or make a sound. Worse yet, she stayed that way when he turned and left her, despite her earlier resolve to the contrary.

Maybe he has used his energy to freeze me in position

, she thought, miserably. But when she tried to raise a hand, experimentally, it moved without a hindrance. That meant she was able to follow him, or leave, if she chose to. The problem was, she did not want to. She watched his retreating back anxiously, trying not to think about why this was.

The sound of a doorbell - a pleasant, soft tune - reached her sensitive ears some ten seconds later, followed by the sound of footsteps descending down the stairs. Finally, the light on the front porch came on and the door opened with a slight creak.