Vampires in Space

"Jamal, have you noticed that they never make any movies about Vampires in space? Our kind don't belong up there, bro, we belong on earth," says my friend, occasional lover and fellow stowaway Quinn Connelly, and I sighed, then flashed him the middle finger. The five-foot-eight, stocky, heavily tattooed and red-haired Irishman has pluck, I'll grant him that, but sometimes he needs to shut the fuck up. Seriously. We're up shit's creek without a paddle and I can't even hear myself think...

"Quinn, seriously my dude, we both known it's your damn fault we're stuck in here, so drop it," I all but growled, and Quinn shook his head, quietly fuming. The spaceship has left the platform, and we're on our way to the International Space Station. All because Quinn here had the bright idea of infiltrating NASA to kidnap U.S. President Donnelly Trammels on the day of a probe launch. Alright, we all wanted to get Trammels, the bastard leading the first modern witch hunt that our kind has faced in centuries...

Needless to say, things definitely didn't go as planned. The Secret Service apparently now includes men and women trained to fight Vampires, for they greeted us with silver bullets when we attacked the President's party. The flame-haired politico is a big fan of the Space Program and was on deck for the launch of a new unmanned probe that would fly from Houston then dock at the International Space Station before heading to Mars, of all places...

We didn't succeed in kidnapping the President of the United States. Many of my fellow Vampires perished in the attempt, and as we fled, we somehow ended up on the spaceship as it launched into the heavens. Boldly taking us where no Vampires have ever gone before. Into deep space. I blame myself for the whole thing, man. I almost had President Trammel. I'd taken out three of his bodyguards before some blonde bitch shot me full of silver, and the bozo got away as I fell, writhing in pain....

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the election of that boisterous billionaire Republican nutcase wasn't bad news just for immigrants and racial minorities in the United States of America. Someone told this bastard about the existence of the Undead, and he deployed U.S. troops in every major city to hunt us down. And you know what? I'm saddened by the fact that the Democrats, whom I have supported for decades, did not push forward a Vampire Rights Bill like I hoped they would. Sucks, eh?

Oh, in case you're wondering who this is, the name is Jamal James Tahir. My friends call me J.J. I'm six-foot-two, broad-shouldered and well-built, with dark brown skin and a smooth shaved head. I don't look a day over twenty five. People say I look a little bit like Vin Diesel, though I'm closer to Chris Brown in skin tone. A handsome, well-dressed, harmless young man, that's what most people see when they look at me. Till it's too late...

I was born in the City of Boston, Massachusetts, in 1969, to a Nigerian Muslim immigrant father and a White American mother. My parents, Ahmad Tahir and Mildred Lansbury-Tahir died in a car accident when I was little, and I was raised by my paternal aunt Gertrude Tahir in nearby Brockton, Massachusetts. I attended the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, graduating with a business degree in 1991.

A year later, I traveled to the City of Houston, Texas, to start a job with an oil company. While in the big city, I met a beautiful woman named Aisha Olayinka, a West African temptress who seduced me, and later turned me into a Vampire. That's how I became one of the undead. I haven't aged a day since. Perks of being a Vampire, I guess. From the moment you become one of us, you stop aging and you become three times stronger than even a top Olympic athlete. And you heal quickly. Nice, huh?

I remember the night I was turned like it was yesterday. I was at Club Axis, one of the premier clubs catering to young, middle-class African-Americans in Houston at the time. I spotted this tall, dark-skinned cutie with a big booty clad in a bright red dress, and felt drawn to her. Like a moth to the proverbial flame. Like the player I thought I was, I went over to introduce myself.

"Good to meet you, Jamal, I'm Aisha," said the vision of absolute beauty, as she looked me up and down. As the night rolled on, Aisha and I flirted and danced. I was intrigued to find a genuine Nigerian woman at a night club in Houston. As I said before, my father was Nigerian, and although I knew little about that culture, I found it absolutely fascinating.

"Dance with me again, beautiful," I whispered into Aisha's ear, and she grinned, and when she did, I flinched for a moment. For a brief moment, Aisha's teeth looked longer, Whiter and sharper than any normal woman's teeth had any right to be. Must have been a trick of the club's dim lights, at least that's what I told myself. I took Aisha to the VIP section, and once there, away from prying eyes, we had our fun...

"You are a bold one, Jamal," Aisha said, smiling, as I knelt before her. The Nigerian beauty hiked up her skirt, and I smiled upon realizing that Miss West Africa was not wearing any panties. I spread her thighs and began licking and fingering her pussy. Sitting on a plush couch in the VIP section, Aisha relaxed and enjoyed as I went down on her. I'd gone down on a lot of women and a few guys at this point. Aisha tasted different...better.

"You got no idea," I whispered, and I winked at Aisha as I resumed eating her pussy. Soon I had Aisha squealing in delight from licking and teasing her pussy with my tongue and fingers. Afterwards, it was her turn to pleasure yours truly. Aisha kissed me, then gripped my long, hard dick and stroked it. I sighed happily as she knelt before me and began sucking my dick. I closed my eyes, feeling totally relaxed as Aisha worked her magic on me...

"Make love to me," Aisha said, much later, after getting me harder than a rock with that sweet little mouth of hers. Seriously, the Nigerian gal sucked my dick so damn well that she made my toes curl. I rolled a condom on my dick and leaned back on the couch. Aisha stood before me, tall and gorgeous, with rapturous mahogany skin, perky breasts, wide hips, and a big round ass. Smiling wickedly, Aisha came to me.

"My pleasure," I said, smiling as Aisha straddled me. I caressed her big, dark ass, and gave it a firm slap. Grinning, Aisha embraced me tightly as I thrust into her. Just like that, we began making love. We rocked back and forth on the couch, establishing a nice, easy rhythm as we fucked. I buried my manhood in Aisha's pussy which was tight, yet felt oddly cold. Nevertheless, I kept fucking her, and her passionate screams mingled with my own...

"Wish you could be mine forever," Aisha whispered as she lay in my arms, a couple of fun-filled hours later. I smiled at her and said nothing. To me, this was just another casual encounter in the clubs. I met women of all hues in these evening establishments. As a tall, good-looking, educated biracial man with a good job that paid six figures, I attracted my fair share of gorgeous women of all colors. I just didn't realize how different Aisha was...

"If only," I replied, and when I looked at Aisha, the beautiful young Nigerian woman smiled, and then her face changed. Her eyes turned bright red, and her teeth elongated and sharpened. As I frantically struggled to get away, Aisha overpowered me as easily as a grown man overpowering a kitten. Smiling wickedly, the monster Aisha had become sank her fangs into my neck. I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was...changed.

Thus I became a Vampire. No, I never saw the entity known as Aisha again. For some reason, I stayed in Texas, and grew to love the beautiful and vibrant and at times cutthroat City of Houston. The city was already full of predators, human and otherwise, by the time I got there. I was just another prowler. And I made myself at home. In time, I became a major figure in the Houston criminal underworld. I was a master of the game. Prostitution, gambling, booze, I had my hands in every kind of pie. And I excelled at it.

The year 2017 has been an unmitigated disaster so far, man. Nothing is going right. The world found out about my species and now we're being hunted. Vampires like myself have existed among mundane humans for thousands of years. Our existence has always been kept secret. I thought humans were getting too close to the truth and too interested in things that go bump in the night when movies and shows like Blade and Buffy started coming out.

The others and I laughed so hard I almost pissed myself when I watched Twilight. Still, there was some good stuff that came out during the Hollywood Vampire craze. True Blood, The Originals and The Strain I actually liked. Yeah, and then the end came unexpectedly. A Vampire was actually captured by the police. The creep allowed himself to be taken and provided Homo Sapiens with actual proof that another intelligent, human-like species had been living on this planet for untold millennia. For us, it was the beginning of the end....

"Boss, how are we getting out of this?" chimed in a sultry, feminine voice, and I looked away from the spaceship's window, and glared at Gloria Monteiro. The six-foot-tall, curvy, bronze-skinned, dark-haired and leather-clad Brazilian Vampire locked eyes with me, and I casually shrugged. The thing about being in charge is that when the shit hits the fan, your followers will demand answers from you. That's the burden of leadership, whether you're human or Vampire...

"I'm thinking, Gloria," I replied testily, and Gloria bared her teeth, which were long and sharp, glistening in the red haze that covered the inside of the ship. Gloria and Quinn are the sole survivors of our gang. I lost a lot of good men and women in our ill-fated attempt at kidnapping the President of the United States. Who would have expected the Secret Service guys and gals to be ready for Vampires?

"We've got to find the pilots of this ship and feed on them, they're our only food source," Quinn said hopefully, and I barely restrained myself from going over to the bozo's corner to wring his damn neck. Quinn and I are tight, but sometimes the dude gets on my nerves. The spaceship we're on is an unmanned probe. Apparently, Quinn doesn't seem to get that unmanned means there's no one else onboard.

"Dude, this probe is unmanned and there's nobody else here, alright? Think before you speak, shit for brains," Gloria said angrily, and Quinn blinked as if he'd been snapped. Without another word, the Irishman bared his fangs, and launched himself at Gloria. Hissing like a serpent, Gloria lashed out with her claws, and next thing I know, Quinn doubled over, crying in pain...

"Crazy bitch," Quinn said, as he coughed blood, and Gloria looked down at him, a wicked smile on her beautiful, cruel face. As she drew back for what would be a killing blow, I decided to intervene. I caught Gloria's wrist, and forcibly drew her back. The Brazilian Vampire roared, and her eyes flashed bright crimson. I held fast onto her even as Gloria struggled to get away from me.

"Gloria, Quinn's had enough, we're all stuck here, fighting each other is not helping anyone," I said, as I let go of Gloria's wrist. She looked at me balefully, and then pointed a clawed finger inches from my face. I didn't like that one bit, folks. I'll never understand people who do stuff like that to others. Hell, I've broken men's arms for less, you know...

"Touch me again, Jamal, and you'll be a bloody smear at the end of my fist," Gloria said angrily, and she walked away, tall, majestic and one hundred percent deadly. With a nice ass, too. Gloria disappeared around a corner, and I let her go. No need to be a genius to realize the gal needs to cool her jets. She's been hot-blooded and hot-tempered ever since we met, more than a decade ago...

Gloria Monteiro and I met in the summer of 2008. I was prowling about the University of Houston campus on a Friday night, looking for a sexy coed to seduce and possibly feed upon. I went into a campus party, and spotted the five-foot-eleven, dark-haired and dark-eyed, bronze-skinned Brazilian cutie with the booty that wouldn't quit. Gloria and I flirted, and danced, and later that night, we went back to her place.

Typically, I don't make a habit of creating new Vampires. Once you create a new Vamp, there's a bond between you and them. For all time. I didn't intend to do that with Gloria. It just...happened. Beautiful gal, smart too, but not what I'm usually into. I don't go for the temperamental type, and that's a good thing. Lots of alpha females in the Vampire community. They're fun but I wouldn't recommend getting involved with one. Not long-term anyway. Just my opinion, as a guy who clashes with them on occasion...

Anyhow, I turned Gloria Monteiro into a Vampire, and we've had a love-hate relationship ever since. And the fact that her boyfriend du jour, a Serbian Vampire named Stevan Marjanovic died during our ill-fated attempt at kidnapping the U.S. President probably hasn't endeared me to Gloria. I'm sorry about Marjanovic but it's the silver-bullet-shooting Secret Service men that killed him, not me. Of course, Gloria doesn't care. Yeah, the gal has a lot of reasons to hate my guts...

"Let's explore this piece of metal and see if we can find a way out of here," I said to Quinn, as I gave him a hand up. My acolyte was already healed from the whammy Gloria laid on him, another perk of being a Vampire. We walked through the spaceship, which was roughly twice or perhaps three times the size of a high school basketball court. There was no oxygen onboard since this is an unmanned probe, but to be honest, that didn't bother us in the least.

"Good idea, I say we stay away from Gloria for the rest of this trip, that bitch is crazy, mate," Quinn replied, shaking his head, and I clapped my old buddy on the shoulder as we headed down the hallway. Quinn and I have known each other for a while. Born in County Antrim, Northern Ireland, in 1947, Quinn and his family came to America in 1967. Three years later, he met Seamus Magnus, the ancient Vampire who turned him into one of the undead.

Quinn and I met in Houston in the summer of 1995 and have been friends and business partners ever since. This is probably the tightest spot we've ever been caught up in. I remember the time we ran afoul of Los Rojos, a tough-as-nails Latino gang. All because one of the gang leaders, Chico something or other, had a crush on Gloria, who led him on, and killed several gang members, but did not return the leader's affection. As a result, Chico and Los Rojos declared war on us. How I remember those days...

"Die, puto!" The burly, heavily muscled gang banger clutched a huge machete in his fist as his cohorts held me pinned against the wall. I was in the seventh floor of a high-rise apartment in Fanning Street in Southlake, Texas, fighting for my life. As Chico got closer, ready to decapitate me, I felt something akin to panic. As a Vampire, I am much stronger and faster than any human will ever be, but I have my limits. Although I heal fast, if I get beheaded, then it's all over...

"See you in hell, Chico," I said defiantly, baring my fangs as Chico raised the machete, ready to separate my head from my shoulders. That's when the front door exploded, and a familiar figure stormed in, guns blazing. With a pistol in each hand and a Stetson on his head, Quinn Connelly looked more like a cowboy from the Old West than a Vampire. With a wicked gleam in his now feral, crimson eyes, my old buddy smiled at Los Rojos.

"Get your filthy hands off the boss man or it's bye-bye Chico," Quinn said, and Chico glared at him, then smiled nastily. If I still breathed, I would have held my breath. The gang leader brought down the machete, but in a fraction of a second before he could take my head off, Quinn fired...and a bloody stump spewed forth blood where Chico's hand used to be.

"Oh shit, my hand," Chico howled, and his acolytes looked on in concern. I took advantage of their distraction to free myself from their grasping hands and pounce on them. Fangs bared and claws extended, I tore into them. I ripped out one gangster's throat, and snapped the other's neck. Quinn shot the third guy who'd been holding me and he fell dead with a hole in his forehead.

"Thanks for the help, my friend," I said, exchanging dap with Quinn before turning to face Chico, who clutched his stump and looked at us fearfully. I seized the gang leader by the throat and slammed him against the wall. I looked at my enemy, and saw the fear in his eyes. Smiling, I tore into him, and sank my fangs into his neck. I drank from Chico, but did not drain him dry. Looking at Quinn, I nodded emphatically, and my buddy smiled.

"Nothing like a drink with a friend," Quinn paused to say, before he sank his fangs into Chico's throat and drained him dry. I looked on, proud of my acolyte for a job well done. I'd been tracking down the Rojos all over Texas until I found out their new headquarters was a high-rise apartment in Southlake. I figured this is where they'd keep Gloria, who'd somehow managed to get her ass kidnapped by Chico, the gang leader. While trying to rescue Gloria, I got myself captured. If it hadn't been for Quinn, I'd be dead. Well, deader anyway...

"You are going to pay for killing my amigos, putos," came a voice, and Quinn and I turned around to find ourselves facing a tall, slender young Latino with a bald head. I blinked as I recognized Antonio, Chico's younger brother. And he was holding a revolver in each hand. Quinn dropped Chico's lifeless body and turned to face Antonio, and I shook my head. At this range, Antonio couldn't miss us if he tried. And I knew he had silver bullets in his revolvers chambers...

"I'm going to enjoy killing you freaks," Antonio said angrily, and his fingers tightened around the triggers. I thought I was gone, and then Antonio gasped, and looked down, at the hand that came protruding through his chest. Seconds later, he dropped to his knees, and turned around. Gloria Monteiro stood over him, her face bloodied, her eyes bloodshot, and a wicked smile on her demonically regal face.

"Jamal, Quinn, I always have to save your sorry asses, you can't even rescue me right," Gloria said, even as she seized the mortally wounded gangster and pulled him to his feet. Gloria sank her fangs into Antonio's neck and drank from him. The gorgeous Brazilian Vampire then gave Antonio a swift kick, and the gang member's lifeless corpse thudded on the tiled floor. Quinn and I exchanged a look, and as Gloria licked her bloody lips, I felt a stir down below, if you catch my drift...

"Gloria, you are amazing, my dear, thank you," I heard myself say as I drew closer to Gloria. She smiled at me coyly, a daring look in her eyes. Without another word, I pulled Gloria into my arms and kissed her. Gloria and I embraced, and I felt her claws slide into my flesh. She bit my tongue, drawing blood, and we both smiled as we continued. Quinn watched us, smiling, and we ignored him and went on with our fun...

"Come to me, Papi," Gloria said haughtily, and we began making love on the floor, right next to the bloodied corpses of Chico and Antonio. After easing out of our clothes, I laid Gloria flat on the floor, and admired her gorgeous body. Voluptuous, and sinfully sexy, with large breasts, wide hips and a thick ass. Exactly the way I like my women. I licked Gloria from her head to her toes, teased her tits by pinching them, and then buried my face between her legs...

"You two are on fire," Quinn said, and the Irish-born Vampire pulled his dick out of his pants and began stroking himself while watching Gloria and I. Shrugging, I spread Gloria's thick thighs and began eating her pussy. I took my sweet time as I pleasured her, fingering her pussy while teasing her clit with my tongue. Gloria lay there, eyes closed, rubbing her tits together while moaning softly. What a woman...