"What do you want, Vampire?" Elsa Martinez, last of the Brujas Del Infierno said to the monster standing before her. In her stately mansion located on La Via Casimir in the south side of Havana, Cuba, Elsa had been preparing for the night after a long day spent visiting her various textile businesses, making sure they were managed properly. The last thing the tired lady expected was a visitor...
At first glance, Elsa thought her visitor was just another of those comely Afro-Cuban brothers who sometimes stole glances her way. Their lust for older women was legendary in Havana. One look at this one and Elsa knew he was no lothario but one of the Undead. The monster in question had the appearance of a tall, handsome and well-dressed young Black man whose medium brown skin seemed to glow. Amusement glinted in his soulful brown eyes, and he smiled, revealing a mouthful of sharp White teeth.
"Powers above and below, help me," Elsa murmured as she faced the monster. Tall and curvy, with dark bronze skin, long curly dark hair streaked with gray, Elsa was beautiful, and didn't look a day over forty five. She's stopped aging since the summer of 1862 when, as a 45-year-old initiate, Elsa embraced the ways of the Coven. Joining the ranks of Las Brujas Del Infierno, Elsa gained amazing powers and arcane knowledge which allowed her to greatly extend her life. And she wasn't about to let that life end...
"Why, the Book of Transfigurations, of course," the Vampire replied, and the Bruja barely had time to ward herself before he launched himself at her. Moving with preternatural speed, the Vampire came for the wizened old Witch, but crashed against a wall of telekinetic force summoned by her will. To the Vampire's body, the invisible wall felt like a ton of bricks, and it held against his assault.
"You shall not have it, Vampire, it was never meant for one of your breed," Elsa retorted, and the Witch reached out, grasping the Vampire through her telekinetic grip and holding him into place. Through sheer strength of will the Witch began squeezing, attempting to crush the life out of her enemy. The only problem with that? The Vampire was already dead, well, technically undead. Struggling against the Witch's invisible grip, the Vampire struck out against the telekinetic wall with both hands, putting all of his strength into the blow.
"Nice try, Witch," the Vampire said as the Witch winced, her head aching due to the constant barrage of superhuman force hammering away at the invisible wall she summoned. Slowly but surely, the barrier the Witch erected between herself and her enemy began to crumble. The Vampire leapt for the Witch, and caught her in his powerful arms. Elsa held her breath as the Vampire gripped her throat and bared his fangs...
"The Book of Transfigurations will never be yours," Elsa Martinez cried out, and the Vampire sank his fangs into her neck. In that moment, the Witch left the mortal world behind. Elsa Martinez had seen much in her one hundred and fifty six years, and in her time, she learned secrets of the supernatural realm and the power of dark magic. Elsa long sought the secret of longevity, but never thought she'd find it like this...
"Oh yes, I have it now," Salim Berhanu said out loud as he drained Elsa Martinez's blood, absorbing information as he consumed every drop. After discarding the Witch's body, Salim hastily left the premises. The last Witch of the ancient coven which once sought to resurrect the legendary Demon Overlord known as Agares had been clever enough to evade Crimson Order agent Karl O'Malley and his Vampire ally Rufus Moor decades ago. Salim knew that he had to be extremely careful and thorough to get her, and so he did...
Tracking down the Witch had taken Salim Berhanu from his comfort zone in the City of Houston, Texas, which he'd been fond of since the 1980s, to the distant realm of Havana, Cuba. Ever since Salim heard that his maker and paramour Hafiza Elmi died in Durban, South Africa, at the hands of her former pupil, the treacherous Vampire Rufus Moor, he'd been incensed. Refusing to believe that his maker was dead, Salim did some research into resurrections, and came across a rumor about a certain coven of Witches...
"Hafiza, I will bring you back into our world, my love," Salim cried out as he held the Book of Transfigurations in his hand. He felt tempted to read it, but knew that where there was one Witch, there might be others. The Vampire took off into the night, feeling gloriously victorious. After months of searching, he finally found what he was looking for...
Salim returned to Houston, Texas, where he spent ages reading the Book of Transfigurations. It was written in Latin, which took some time to translate, even with the best software known to man and an abundance of scholarly experts. The very best that money could buy. At last, he started to understand the ritual. In order to bring Hafiza's essence back from the netherworld, he needed to gather her remains and add the blood of three very different beings.
"The blood of a Hunter, the blood of a Vampire and the blood of an unclean animal," Salim read aloud to himself, as he filled a jar with the blood of the first element of that particular triad. The Hunters, a global organization that has tracked down and eliminated supernatural entities for centuries was quite elusive. Hence why Salim had to cast a wide net before luring one of them into a trap...
Salim felt satisfied after killing two birds with one stone, getting the blood of a Hunter and disposing of yet another magically savvy translator. The translator in question happened to be Rupert Gilliam, a tall, red-haired and green-eyed British expat living in Amarillo, Texas. Once a member of the research division of the Crimson Order, Rupert was kicked out for his sexual indiscretions. Salim summoned him to Houston with the promise of ten grand, plus a challenge commensurate with his abilities. The British nerd simply couldn't resist.
"Wow, lad, this book is over three hundred years old," Rupert marveled when Salim showed him the Book of Transfigurations. The two of them spent weeks deciphering it, and during that time, they bonded. As it turns out, Rupert, recently divorced from his Mexican-born former wife Josephina Sanchez, had a thing for tall, dark-skinned young men. Rupert was shy with men in general, and thought it a stroke of luck when the handsome, brooding Salim some definitely non professional interest in him.
"Just relax and enjoy," Salim said to Rupert as he bent the tall, slim older man over his kitchen table, and began fucking him. Rupert moaned softly as Salim gripped his hips and slammed his long, hard dick into his ass. Mercilessly Salim fucked his older lover, filling Rupert's ass with his dick. The older man screamed in pleasure, urging his lover to fuck him harder. After what seemed like forever, the two men paused for a moment to catch their breaths, or so it seemed...
"You amaze me, handsome," Rupert said to Salim, and he took the young man's face in his hands and kissed him. Salim returned Rupert's kiss, and didn't stop there. He began kissing the older man's neck, causing Rupert to sigh happily. Rupert was still grinning when Salim sank his fangs into his neck. Rupert struggled but to no avail, Salim was monstrously strong. The young Vampire overpowered the old scholar, drank his fill and then proceeded to dump the corpse in an alley, a few kilometers from his current dwelling...
"What you love is what kills you," Salim said to Rupert's corpse, after decapitating it to make sure it wouldn't come back as one of the Undead. This was what Salim did to all of his victims. Let the murders he committed continue to baffle the Havana police, who considered them the works of a serial killer. Salim did not mind, as long as no one made the connection to him. He'd learned to be extremely careful over the course of his brief existence as one of the Undead.
Later that night, Salim went out, and had himself some fun with a prostitute named Carmela, the prize of the local boudoirs. A lovely, curvy woman with light bronze skin, light brown eyes and long, curly dark hair, with a body that wouldn't quit. Born of a Black father and a White mother, Carmela had that unique beauty common the mixed-race folks. For some reason, Carmela reminded Salim of Hollywood starlet Salma Hayek, whom he'd fancied back in his mortal days. That's why he spared no expense in obtaining her for the night.
"Hello, handsome, so, you asked specifically for me?" Carmela asked Salim as he stepped into her boudoir, well-dressed, handsome and smelling good. Salim nodded, playing the role of the shy, handsome and deceptively innocent young man that he appeared to be. Carmela stood before her, curvy and sexy, clad in a Black cowboy hat, a sinfully revealing red negligee and Black leather boots, a hot combination if there ever was one.
"You are so beautiful," Salim said, as he went to her, intent on kissing her and making love to her. Carmela grinned and instead of kissing Salim, she pressed her hands against his chest in a warding gesture. Salim looked into Carmela's eyes, and she smiled and shook her head. Nodding, he took her hand and led her to the bed, where they proceeded to consummate their passion. Salim craved something sensual, yet nasty, and Carmela showed him he'd come to the right bawdy house...
"Handsome, I do everything except kiss on the mouth," Carmela said to Salim as she knelt before him, and took his dick into her hands. Salim nodded, watching intently as Carmela took him into her mouth. Although Salim no longer breathed, he sighed happily as Carmela gave him the best damn blowjob ever. As soon as he was rock hard, the lovely gal practically pounced on him...