Vex.
That was the word an occult priest had given Sammy.
Vex.
It was a fitting word for the frustration of her life. She couldn't remember anything before her vampirism. And she could barely remember that. She had vague dreams and foggy recollections of drug injecting needles, of a female face standing over with a look of pity. Beyond that she had nothing. She assumed the female was her creator, but if she were then she'd abandoned Sammy after turning her. Sammy barely even remembered where she had woken up after being turned, though by that time all the drugs from her human life had left her system.
But by that time she also had the hunger. And that overrode everything else. Nothing in life or undeath had ever been as pure as the raw thirst. The first breath as a vampire had been its own private hell. Her throat had been raw and dry as dust. Not a bit of saliva had come to her aid and her veins had felt like the abrasive fire of a sandstorm were scraping the very insides of her body. There hadn't been a single sentient creature within her reach for miles though, which was a blessing. She would have massacred if given that chance. As it were she had either woken near or in a forest and had fed on its beasts with fervor. Her first clear memory was of licking the bones and blood drained carcass of a great cat, searching for more fluid that might nourish her reborn body.
Vex.
After that life hadn't been so bad though, really. The thirst never sated, that was true, but she no longer needed sleep or food or civilization and currency. Oh she wanted those things, it was true, and when she was sure of her restraint she sought them out. She used her vampire body to maximum effect. She learned the joy of luring a male prey with his own lust and draining him dry. She learned a favorite pastime in watching them die while their cock was buried deep inside her and she could watch the light fade from their eyes.
But most of all, she learned thrill.
Sammy felt like she must have always been a thrill seeker and vampirism had only allowed her the freedom of seeking out her terrors and fears. Few things could harm her as a vampire. She could take all of the thrill and little of the risk. She could play with pain and experience pleasure from the adrenaline rush. Most of these thrills had been physical, straightforward ones at first. She'd wrestled with massive predators, the biggest and baddest ones she could find. She'd sought out a Furian clan once and had an orgy with their berserker warriors, wondering how far she could challenge their dominance until they snapped and resorted to brute force and vicious frenzy to subdue her.
The answer was she couldn't go very far. It had taken a minute of challenge and shoving and back talking before one of the Furians got the red haze of blood that descended in their eyes when they raged. After that it had spread to the others like a howl among wolves or like an infection. And all she remembered was the raw animal sounds and the heavenly bliss of having all three of her holes endlessly filled over and over until she could do nothing but take it. And then take some more. By the end her ass and pussy had been twitching, gaped open, and dripping Furian cum. As for her... well, she'd been a weak, quivering little vampire laying on a cabin floor, well used and satisfied. One of the Furians affectionately replenished her with his blood, which turned out to be potent.
This time, though, she'd gone a different route of thrill. And she wasn't entirely sure how well she liked it.
She wasn't a religious person exactly, but Sammy hadn't been an idle vampire. She liked to read. Mostly she liked Verraria's history and creature compendiums. She was just getting to learn her own world and the more she read...
Well, at first it had all seemed so boring. The civilization rises, the cities, the currencies, the blended coexistence of the races. But then she'd looked a little deeper. And she'd found oh so many interesting and downright frightening things. Tales of ancient gods and sleeping, terrible gods. Tales of creatures with arts so dark they could shroud the world in night if they put their hearts to it. There were tales of vampire clans who had nearly conquered the entirety of the known world in eons past. There were demonic entities, spirits who refused to rest. Taylor had found these darker stories and followed them with an obsession that burned through her.
What was more was that as a vampire vagabond she had the pure freedom to chase whatever she damn well felt like. So she did. She found the underground churches and religions. She searched through strings of them, all with different beliefs. Each one was interesting. One even knelt to her and begged her to drink from them. When she drained one dry they revered the body and kissed her feet. She stayed an extra week or two in that company, just for the pleasure of it.
But eventually she found something more substantial. A priest who said a name. "Vex." Except it wasn't just spoken. Some fit had crossed the priest's face and his eyes had turned milk white while a claw scraped the wall with a horrid sound like nails on a chalkboard, spelling out three letters.
"Vex." The priest licked his lips. "From now until eternity, you are cursed. It will find you."
That day she felt a pull to sleep that she rarely felt. As soon as she rested in a close by inn, the dream started.
In it she stood with her back to a wall, facing a rather simple room, but a spacious one. There was a bed to one wall, with black silken sheets. Bookshelves lined the walls, excepting the one she stood against. When she turned she realized the entrance door was along that wall.
But most interesting was the nightmare of a creature that sat at a desk. As soon as she looked at it she couldn't pull her eyes away.
It - no, he, she mentally corrected for it was definitely male - was covered with the worst mass of scars she'd ever seen in her life. What looked like a slowly soldered brand design covered his face, but part of it was skewed by a kind of burn scar she hadn't encountered before. There were mottled dots on bits of his bared arms, crossing cut scars all over... well, all over everywhere on his skin. The marks disappeared up to his short sleeved tunic. She wondered what his torso and legs could possibly look like.
His mouth twisted upward around the scarring and he bared his teeth to reveal twin fang sets. One set elongated his top canines while the other affected his bottom ones.
Definitely not a vampire then, whatever he was. Every single vampire clan had the single fang set.
But what he was, she couldn't begin to guess. Hell, it took her a moment just to realize that the curled expression on his face was a goddamn smile.
And then she wondered at the dream she was in. How real might it be?
The creature stood around his desk where a book lay open. Sammy felt her adrenaline quicken, felt the familiar rush of heat to her sex at the sudden thrill. She had to admit. This creature downright frightened her.
Finally, he spoke first and broke the silence. "A pretty dove? What's more, a marked pretty dove." He chuckled. "You are honored indeed."
