Malik The Vampire Prince

"I live a life of sin," I whispered to myself as I sat on the third floor of the Carleton University library, the supposed quiet floor. I've been coming to this spot long before I became a vampire. For ages it was my refuge. Indeed, from 2008 to 2012, I was a student at this very school. I earned a bachelor's degree in Criminology from Carleton University. Fat lot of good it did me. Even if I wasn't legally dead, I can't become a professional in the field of criminal justice since I can only work nights. Ah, the myriad restrictions of the Undead state of being.

"Sir, can you please lower the volume on your computer?" Those words snatched me out of my train of thought, and I looked up to see a tall, red-haired, bespectacled and brown-eyed white chick clad entirely in black standing half a meter from me. Way too close from my vantage point. So close that I could smell the blood pumping through her veins, and so much more. What in hell does she want?

"Um, okay, didn't realize I was that loud," I replied, as I took a long look at the rather cute interloper. Gorgeous redhead who looks good and smells even better. Please don't come any closer. I come to the library to be alone, but also because it's the closest thing I have to my old life. When you're a vampire, it's tough to make friends. Mortals have it so wrong about us vampires. Eternity isn't a continuation of your mortal existence with mortal pleasures and dilemmas. It's an entirely new state of being.

"Whoa, you're listening to Limp Bizkit? I totally love this oldie band!" Miss Gorgeous Redhead giggled excitedly as she peered at my computer screen. I was on YouTube, watching an epic music video tribute a certain fan made of Dragon Ball Z, featuring the Limp Bizkit hit song My Way. It's a tribute to Goku and Vegeta, made by some random guy on the Internet. I looked at this nosy broad and couldn't help but smile at her bravery and foolhardiness.

"Yeah, I'm a fan of theirs, I'm Malik," I said, and the redhead hesitated, then shook my hand, and introduced herself as Kayla Channing. Thus I met a rather unforgettable pain in the ass. One that I haven't been able to get out of my head ever since. Oh, snap. I'm doing it again. Getting ahead of myself. Sorry about that. Got a lot of things on my mind these days. Before we go any further, I guess introductions are in order.

The name is Malik Diop, and I was born in the City of Bambey, Senegal, in 1989. My parents, Mamadou and Mariam Diop moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, in 1991 with my older sister Nadia and I. Apparently there was a lot of political unrest in Senegal and much of West Africa in the early 1990s and lots of our people moved to Canada, America and the United Kingdom as a result. I've lived in provincial Ontario for much of my life. Indeed, I lived and died in Canada's most populous region. It's also in this strange, wondrous and at times dangerous land that I was reborn.

"From this point forward, you'll never grow old, get sick or die, but you will prey on your fellow man and drink his blood," said the entity who ended my existence, a vampire known as Nabil. The ancient vampire stood over me, watching as the life was drained out of me after he sank his fangs into my neck. I lay there, helpless, and looked at the monster who destroyed me, silently swearing that I would one day obtain vengeance upon him.

How did we get here? One evening during the winter of 2013, I went to this bar called Honest Lawyer in the By Ward Market area of downtown Ottawa. It's been one of my favorite watering holes since my university days. I saw this tall, dark-haired, bronze-skinned and well-dressed, handsome Middle-Eastern gentleman at the bar, and when our eyes met, I knew that he was like me. I am one who finds both women and men equally enjoyable in the bedroom, and that night, I was on the prowl for a sandwich. The kind that walks on two legs.

"Hey handsome, new in town?" I said cheerfully as I sat on the stool next to the handsome Arab stranger, and he smiled at me, and introduced himself as Nabil. All night we talked, discussing everything from sports to the state of the affairs in the Islamic world. I was raised Muslim, but don't consider myself very religious. Hell, I swing both ways. Nabil seemed very knowledgeable about a lot of things, but he was charming rather than stuffy.

"You are a beautiful man, Malik," Nabil said to me, and I smiled and drew closer to him. The handsome Middle-Eastern stud with the golden brown eyes and easy smile definitely had my interest. Many drinks and many talks later, I decided I wanted to sample this exotic dish. We went back to his room at the Quality Hotel on Rideau Street, and did the bump and grind. I'm six-foot-three, dark-skinned and athletically built, and I'm blessed with a nine-inch monster between my legs. One that has been known to make both women and men squeal in delight.

"You are so beautiful," Nabil said to me, admiring my tall, muscular form as I took off my clothes. Nabil sat on his bed as I showed him what I was working with. Grinning, I gestured for Nabil to come to me, and he did. We kissed, and then Nabil stroked my dick and massaged my balls as we got into bed together. I lay there, with a big smile on my face as Nabil took my dick into his mouth, and sucked on it like a damn lollipop.

"Damn, habib, you've sucked the life out of me," I said to Nabil, and he grinned, giving my dick a final lick before we got down to business. I stroked Nabil's dick, which was both long and thick, and he pinched my nipples. I caressed his face, and that smooth, sexy ass of his. Smiling, Nabil turned around and pressed that ass against me, and I grinned and smacked it.

"Fuck me," Nabil said breathlessly, and I grinned and rolled a condom on my dick, and rubbed some Aloe cream on his ass. I found some on the nightstand, compliments of the Quality Hotel, I guess. I bent Nabil over, and eased my dick into his ass, which proved to be quite tight and gripped my dick like a vise. Hard and fast I pumped my dick into him, and Nabil screamed as I fucked him good. I'm an ass man through and true, and I honestly don't care if the ass in question belongs to a male or a female. I don't discriminate.

"That was fun, you've got a sweet ass on you, Nabil," I said, a few passionate hours later, after I'd hit Nabil's ass a few times. The handsome Arab stud looked at me, and then gently caressed my face. Not for the first time I noticed that Nabil's skin felt cold, but I dismissed it as connected to the cold outside. This dude probably came to Ottawa on business from the Middle East, and the Canadian winter must be killing him.

"Beautiful man like you, I do like the idea of extending our arrangement," Nabil said, and I looked at him and grinned. Whether I'm dealing with women or men, I'm not the commitment type. I have ladies and guys all over Ottawa whom I meet regularly for casual fun, but I'm not trying to find a wife or a steady boyfriend. Don't have time for relationships and the drama that they bring...

"Sorry, handsome, you're a lot of fun but I don't believe in commitment," I replied, and Nabil smiled, looked me up and down and smiled some more. I got my clothes back on and got ready to leave, but Nabil's eyes turned bright red and he roared like a tiger and came at me. I fought back, but the monster Nabil had become proved to be too much for me, and overpowered me. The fiend got me, and sank its fangs into my neck. I fell on the hotel room floor, dying. When I came to, a few days later, I was in a coffin beneath the Ottawa Muslim Cemetery located on Manotick Station Road...

"What the fuck?" I wondered, as I awakened in my own grave. To the world at large, I was dead and buried. I didn't know what had happened to me, but I soon learned that I was no longer human. The light of the sun hurts me, and I must hide in darkness during the daylight hours. I am no longer alive but a thing that survives by drinking blood. My world ended, and I found myself trapped in a nightmare. My parents sold our old house off Tremblay road in Vanier and moved to the City of Winnipeg, Manitoba. My older sister Nadia lives in Toronto with her husband Ahmed. I am alone in Ottawa. All alone in the night.

It wasn't easy, adapting to my new existence as a vampire on my own. Let me give you folks some facts. The whole turning into a bat or a wolf thing is ludicrous. I am quite strong, considerably stronger than I was as a mortal person, but not ridiculously so. I can kick your ass, and probably your buddies too, but I can't lift trucks like the dude on Smallville. I can run faster now that I am a vampire, but believe me, I'm not the Flash. The part about hiding from the sun and drinking blood to survive is real. No bones about it.

For several years now, I've lived like a shadow. No ID, no paperwork, all that stuff ended the day I died. I hide away from the sun in the basement of an abandoned warehouse in the east end of Ottawa. If you saw me, you'd think I was a homeless guy. Sometimes I take money from people and actually buy myself some decent clothes. I only steal from the crooks. Not because I've got guilt or anything but because the hoodlums are the ones who hoard cash. Respectable people keep it in the bank. I live like a ghost, and haunt the places which once mattered to me, like my alma mater's library.

"So, what program are you in?" Kayla asked me, snapping me out of my train of thought. I looked at her and grinned, then did something flat out outrageous. I told her the truth. That I graduated Carleton a while ago, and miss the school, and that's why I'm in the library. Kayla smiled, and then, just like I knew she would, the gorgeous ginger told me about herself.

"I'm in business, and work at a MacDonald's restaurant in Nepean," Kayla said, and we talked about school and life, and then went on and on about her ex-boyfriend Todd. Clearly this broad wasn't over her ex, or perhaps she was trying to send me a message. I had quite a way with the ladies before I became a vampire, but I've become celibate since joining the ranks of the Undead. Still, there was something about Kayla that appealed to me.

"You talk a lot, Miss Kay, but I think you're cool peoples," I said with my usual swagger, and Kayla grinned, and shook her head. By the end of the night, I had her cell phone number, and learned that she worked at a MacDonald's restaurant housed inside a Walmart. Um, that's a lot of info but whatever. The evening ended with my leaving the library around closing time. From campus, I took the OC Transpo bus number seven back to Vanier, and returned to my lair.

"Mal, I look forward to seeing you again," Kayla said to me right before we parted ways. In spite of myself, I had to smile. White chicks, man. They'll always find a way to shorten a traditional African name. I remember my father telling me about his co-workers calling him "The Main Man" because they apparently found his West African name Mamadou hard to pronounce. Still, I had to admit, Kayla was cute, and quite possibly the first mortal I'd really talked to in a while.

Ladies and gentlemen, that's how it all began. The following night, as soon as it got dark, I came to the library. I met Kayla there, and we had coffee. As a vampire, I don't need food or drink, only blood. I can't process solid foods, but I can enjoy beverages, hot and cold, just like you can. Kayla and I went to watch The Force Awakens at the Silver City movie theater. It was fun. I enjoyed the movie and Kayla's company, and wanted to see more of her. A few nights later, I let Kayla talk me into going to Oliver's Pub with her.

"Has the place changed much since you went to Carleton?" Kayla asked me as we sat at a table near the bar. There was a Senators professional hockey game on the big screen TV, and the bartender, a short blonde chick, looked bored. I looked around Oliver's, remembering all the wonderful times I had with friends back in the day. Man, I did not need this trip down memory lane.

"Oliver's will always be Oliver's," I said, smiling at Kayla. The motor-mouthed ginger beauty looked hot in a black leather jacket, black tank top, black silk pants and black boots. I looked alright in a red silk shirt, black jeans and Timberland shoes. I got the outfit from a dapper young man I caught as he walked past my warehouse, on his way to the nearby Saint Laurent Mall earlier this very evening. Ruined his evening, for sure, but not to worry, I left him alive.

"Man of mystery, eh? Tell me about yourself," Kayla said, and I bit my lip. I hate talking about myself. What can I tell this broad? Why do I even bother? These days, mortals are food to me. I kill people and drink their blood. I dispose of their bodies to make sure they cannot come back and start prowling about like I do. I don't know why Nabil didn't dispose of me. Perhaps the fucker intended to curse me. Oh, well. If I ever run into him, I'll dispose of him.

"Not much to tell, I spend all day at a warehouse, and I hang out at the Carleton library because, well, it's the closest thing I have to my old life," I said, and Kayla nodded, seemingly mulling things over. Mortals have a way of explaining the things that they don't understand, and I find this fascinating. Must be a coping mechanism that's built-in or something.

"Can't find work in your field, eh? My sister says it's tough for recent graduates, hang in there, my dude," Kayla said, smiling, and then she made a fist. It took a moment to realize that she wanted to do the "fist bump" thing. I bumped my fist against hers, and we both laughed. The other people inside Oliver's Pub looked at us. A lot. Brown, black or white, they all stared. Even though I'm no longer alive, some things never change. Even at a school as racially diverse as Carleton University, people still stare when they see a black man and a white woman together...

"Thank you, I still look for ways of breaking through," I replied, nonchalantly, and Kayla grinned, and laid her hand on mine. I waited for her reaction. The vampire state changes the body. A vampire's heart doesn't beat. My skin feels cold because, well, I register at room temperature. The only times my skin feels warm is when I've recently drunk blood. I only feed once every few weeks. There are other vampires in town and I know some who feed on humans every few days. Me? I'm not greedy. I have always lived frugally when I was human, and I see no reason to change now that I'm a vampire.

"Mal, my dude, you need to dress up for the winter, it's cold outside," Kayla said, and she continued touching my arm. I looked at her and smiled, not knowing what to say. If my heart still beat, it would have skipped a beat or two. Kayla was looking very intensely at me. I looked into those brown eyes, and grinned nervously. I swear, I haven't been that nervous around a female since freshman year at Carleton...

"Then warm me up," I replied, suddenly regaining my cocksure swagger, and I grinned, looking into Kayla's surprised eyes before planting one on her lips. In the movies, the vampire is seductive, and the chicks can't help falling for him. I'm not Eddie Murphy in Vampire In Brooklyn or Hugh Jackman in Van Helsing. I'm just a regular brother from Senegal who got turned into a vampire by a queer bozo named Nabil...

"Hmm, moving a bit fast for me, Mal," Kayla said, smiling nervously, a few moments later. I smiled sheepishly and shrugged, realizing I'd crossed a line. I may look human but I am not. When a person gets aroused, male or female, their smell actually changes. I smelled a change in Kayla, and it revved up something in me. The vampire's hunger. Around the pub, everyone was still eyeballing us, but I was smiling and so was Kayla.

"I'm sorry about this, I've got to go," I said, and got up to leave, but Kayla laid a restraining hand on my arm. I looked into those brown eyes of hers and saw an intensity that would not be denied. One which almost matched my own. In the movies, vampires can hypnotize their victims. In real life? Not so much. Still, we do have a predatory gaze and allure. I fixed my gaze on Kayla, and she did not blink.

"No, you're not, you're coming with me," Kayla said, in a much sterner voice that I thought she possessed. We walked out of there, and I swear, I heard several people laugh. A big and tall young black man being practically dragged out of a campus bar by a ginger-headed, decidedly bossy white chick. Kayla and I walked through the university center building, and finally stopped outside, having exited through a side door...

"Alright, lady, what's up with you?" I asked, and Kayla glared at me. I smiled and held her gaze, and then, for some reason, we both burst out laughing. For the next half an hour, Kayla and I walked around campus. Just two young people walking and talking, that's all anyone is meant to see and that's what they saw.

"I've noticed you in the library for a long time before I approached you, you think you're so fine and mysterious, the alumni coming back to campus, too cool to talk to anyone or let people get close to you," Kayla said, and I laughed, for I realized I'd gotten her all wrong. The fact that this mortal woman had been observing me without my noticing worried and thrilled me for some reason...

"Well, aren't you the cutest stalker ever?" I replied, and Kayla laughed and slapped my arm. Grinning, she stepped closer to me. We were standing near the Ice House, a place on campus I'd never actually visited as a student. Hockey isn't my thing. I love soccer, though. The Ice House is one of those places I considered off-limits. This time, though, it felt right to be there. In Kayla's arms, with her lips pressed against mine.

"You're never going to want to let me go," Kayla whispered in my ear, once she came up for air. I smiled and nodded. Hand in hand, we walked to Kayla's place at the Stormont & Dundas House. Once inside, we didn't spend a lot of time talking, I'll tell you that much right now.

"Beautiful," I said, watching as Kayla shyly, then boldly, stepped out of her clothes. Rapturous alabaster skin greeted my gaze, and I smiled. Kayla had nothing to be nervous about. Her small breasts, sturdy body and big round ass all appealed to me immensely. I kissed her full and deep, and then went to work on her.

"Oh yes, thank you," Kayla whispered, as I fondled her tits while burying my face between her creamy thighs. I began eating her pussy, teasing her clit with my tongue, then going in there with my fingers. Kayla moaned and writhed on the bed as I pleasured her. I am a firm believer in taking my sweet time as I explore a woman's sweet spot. Kayla's cunt was a world waiting to be explored, and I was in no rush...

"Trust me," I paused to say, and Kayla looked at me inquisitively, then I resumed eating her out. At some point, I put her on all fours and began eating her pussy from behind. The sight of Kayla's big white ass swaying this way and that as I pleasured her turned me on and gave me a great visual to work with. I love butts, as I said before, and Kayla's was one of the best I'd seen...

"Like my big white butt?" Kayla turned around to say, a wicked grin in her face, and I smiled and nodded. Hell, I kissed her big butt. Suddenly I felt very horny. Kayla noticed the brick in my pants, and smiled. Without another word she came at me, and reached for my zipper. Out came my dick, and Kayla grinned, and stroked it tenderly.

"You have quite an effect on me," I whispered, and Kayla said nothing and instead got on her knees and took me into her mouth. Alive or undead, there are certain pleasures no man should ever deny himself. It had been years since I had sex with anyone, female or male. The feel of Kayla's lips around my dick, oh my, I had forgotten what certain sensations were like.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Kayla said to me, and she got up and grabbed my dick, then led me to her small bed. Grinning, I pulled her on top of me. Kayla climbed on top of me, a look of mischief mixed with lust on her face, her eyes wild and her tits swaying this way and that. Gently I caressed them, but Kayla batted my hand away.