"Politics find common thread everywhere," Mustafa Machar said to himself, as he languished in his little cell, awaiting his execution. In a few hours, the sun would rise, and for the first time in centuries, he would be there to greet it. It would be the very last thing he ever saw, for the light was lethal to his kind. Can't escape genetics, Mustafa thought as he raked his tongue over his fangs.
The caged Vampire cut a striking figure, to say the least. Mustafa stood six feet six inches tall, with skin of a rich mahogany hue, a lean and muscular body, and a ruggedly handsome face with golden brown eyes that could see right through one's soul. Clad in a dark gray business suit, blue silk shirt, burgundy tie, dark gray dress pants and his trademark black Timberland boots, he looked distinctly out of place in this setting.
The bars of the cage which held Mustafa prisoner were pure silver, designed to sap the strength that was his to command. As a centuries-old Vampire, Mustafa possesses the strength of ten men, and if push came to shove, he might outrun a cheetah in matters of speed and stamina. His captors knew this, so they spared no expense to prevent his escape. They were determined to make him pay once and for all...
With precious little to do in what seemed like the last hours of his existence, the Vampire Mustafa found himself thinking about how he got into this predicament in the first place. Betrayal never comes from one's enemies, or so the old adage goes, Mustafa silently reminded himself. Bitterly he remembered learning that lesson fairly recently...
"Mustafa, for violation of our treaties, you are hereby condemned to death by exposure to the sun," stated Councilwoman Gladys Onochie, speaking for the eleven-member council that ruled the Vampires of the African motherland. Mustafa, standing in the middle of the court, with silver bindings sapping his preternatural strength, could do little more than watch.
"I just did what any of you should have done, I fought for love and for honor," Mustafa protested vehemently, and the other Vampires in the antechamber shook their heads. They rejected his ideology, and he couldn't stand to look at them, this parade of sycophants and losers. To Mustafa, humanity was little more than food, and he wished his fellow Vampires would stop being "restrained" and embrace their natural urges.
"Silence, Mustafa," stated a councilman seated at the right hand of Gladys, speaking for the first time. Mustafa bristled as he looked up to see Fiore, formerly his acolyte, speaking against him. They'd known each other for some time, and while Mustafa and Fiore had their disagreements, the prisoner was stunned to see his friend palling around with his tormentors...
When the sun next bathed the City of Accra, Ghana, in its light, Mustafa would cease to exist. Solar light plus Vampire equals dead Vampire, so it has been since the beginning of the Undead race. The sun would burn him to a crisp, the very worst fate for a Vampire. Mustafa could imagine the smug faces of the council members watching him on close-circuit television from the safety of their sun-proof homes.
For untold centuries, the Vampires had existed in the shadows, subtly influencing human society through their wealth and power. Vampires hoarded gold and jewels, due to their inborn fascination with shiny metals and precious stones. They wielded great power in the human world, and through their many agents and networks, they influenced the course of human destiny far more than they were given credit for.
What Mustafa had dared to do was interfere in the affairs of man. He'd fallen in love with a mortal woman named Anne-Marie Tsegah, the daughter of Robert Tsegah, a wealthy political figure in Ghana at the time. When the young woman found herself on the run from her father's enemies following his death, she called upon the tall, handsome and mysterious man who'd been her lover for ages.
Mustafa, who, throughout his centuries among the Undead lived by a code, found himself in a sticky situation. He'd drunk from Anne-Marie's blood, welcomed her into his bed, and told her the truth about himself. Unlike most mortals, Anne-Marie hadn't been disgusted or horrified. In Mustafa's eyes, this made her something akin to a rare jewel...
"Mustafa, I know there is more to this world than most people think, what you are doesn't scare me, you may not be human but you're gentle and kind, the real beasts are the men in this land who slaughter their own people for pleasure," Anne-Marie told him, as they lay together. They had a heart-to-heart following Mustafa's revelation of his Undead status, and Anne-Marie's candor surprised the ancient Vampire.
"You're a unique woman," Mustafa told Anne-Marie, and he looked at her, this tall, dark-skinned, voluptuous daughter of West Africa, and kissed her passionately. They rolled around on his bed, and made passionate love for many hours. Mustafa had shared his bed with a seemingly endless list of women, and more than a few men. Still, Anne-Marie's passion surprised him...
