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From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com
Subject: {Cadfael}JDR"Feed the Night C"( FF vamp )[3/3]
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JOHN DARK REPOST
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas
that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author
make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other
matters that you find distasteful. You read at your own risk.
The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming
Attractions," which includes the titles to be reposted in the next week.
These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of
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well.
===================================================
Copyright 1997.
Brother_Cadfael@earthcorp.com
Distribute freely, but change nothing.
===================================================
-[ Feed The Night ]-
Brother Cadfael
Brother_Cadfael@earthcorp.com
Section C:
Jezebel awoke hours later to Andi's prodding.
"What is it?" She asked, attentively.
"I need to talk to you, Jezzy..."
Jezebel sat up and brushed the hair away from her eyes. "About the
dreams."
Andi nodded. "Yes. And something else."
"Alright... I've been waiting for you to explain. It's an odd time,
but I suppose this is as well as any, isn't it dear?"
Andi smiled. "Yeah. I guess." She thought for a moment. She began
to speak and then hesitated before continuing. "It's more than
dreams. I've also had these... visions. But they've only come a few
times. Perhaps a half dozen... And they come only when... well...
when... when I'm coming."
Jezebel smiled devilishly and immediately tried to cover it up.
"Smart ass," Andi retorted. "It's always been a dark-eyed man in the
dreams and visions. A tall, pale figure. Almost ghostly. It never
made sense before, but his eyes frightened me. They always have since
the first dream weeks ago."
"Dreams," Jezebel whispered, "Andi, dreams are just the result of your
brain processing information at night. It's noth--"
"No. Listen," Andi insisted. "This dream... The vision... Earlier,
when you put your hand in me... When I came-- I saw him again... And
you."
Jezebel's eyes perked up and she ruffled her brow.
"Jezzy... You were by him on the floor... You were dead or
something... I think you were dead..."
Jezebel sat quietly. She was unsure how to respond. She wanted to
disregard what she had just heard, but...
It was familiar. She had experienced similar dreams during the time
that Andi was sick. That is why she found it difficult to ignore.
The image. The situation of her body on the floor. The man. It was
familiar. It had happened to her. It was real.
But when? Would she not recall it? It had been so long. She was
certain of that.
"I think," Andi said, "that I experience these images when I am most
connected with you. That is why they occur when we make love. And
when we're asleep... I don't know. Perhaps we are symbiotic then,
too."
"I don't know," Jezebel thought aloud. "I dreamt about this man, too.
When you were asleep I dreamt for the first time in many years. I
can't recall them completely... but the man with dark eyes. I knew
someone like him before. With eyes like pits."
"Who is he?" Andi asked, scooting closer to Jezebel and taking her
share of the blanket to keep warm. Their legs brushed against each
other beneath the covers.
"I wish I could say..."
"And why has he hurt you in my dreams?"
"Again... I wish I could answer you."
They were both scared, and neither needed to say so. Whatever these
things meant, they were enough to stand the hair upon your neck
on-end. But Jezebel knew that there was nothing that could be done
about things beyond your control. Perhaps, after sleep, she would
have the faculties to recollect the face in their dreams.
And there was always Lodairos.
Into each other's arms, they fell, appearing to sleep like babes on
the outside, but sharing the same simultaneous dream of the dark man
attacking Jezebel.
Andi had recently decided to continue stripping. She found a
comfortable excitement in dancing before men. Seeing their lust for
her body and sucking in the beat of the music without her inhibitions.
As night came, she showered and dressed for work. After she had
gone, Jezebel went to the small store wherein she knew Lodairos would
be busily archiving his texts and whatnots.
Jezebel arrived to an unlocked door. That was unusual. Lodairos was
an aging man and he knew that this neighborhood was no longer the safe
fortress of his childhood. Worry growing in her, she pushed it open.
She cautiously stepped inside and saw the gentle glow of a low-watt
bulb in the far end of the store.
A figure moved there. It turned.
"Jezebel!" The voice cried. It was Lodairos.
"Jesus," Jezebel said, "Are you trying to get yourself killed? Your
door was unfastened!"
Lodairos nodded. His eyes darted from her face to the corner of the
room, gesturing for her to look behind him. Look for something.
"I've been too busy at work. I must have forgotten about security,
child..."
Jezebel tried to follow his eyes, but she did not quite catch on what
the old man was trying to convey. He cocked his head and she knew
that they were not alone. He had tried to convey that to her from the
moment she entered. That is why he moved nervously and his voice was
higher than normal. Shaky. Unsure of it's footing.
"Lodairos-- what is it?" Jezebel whispered.
"Run!" He whispered, pleading to her with his eyes. His gray hair
falling over his eyes and his hands gesturing for her to go.
She wanted to ask why. She wanted to take his hand and calm him down.
But the light behind him quickly disappeared. Jezebel looked up and
before her, behind Lodairos, stood a man of more than six and one-half
feet. Dark, trimmed hair and sunglasses. His skin was pale, like a
sheet or a ghost.
"What the hell?" She gasped. She stood, frozen as the man towered
over her. His hand reached to his face and removed his eyeglasses.
The black pits of his dark eyes stared into her soul.
Jezebel tried to scream. The tip of a large knife suddenly appeared,
silently through Lodairos' stomach. Blood spilled from the blade and
wound to the floor. He mouthed words that Jezebel could not make out
and the blade disappeared. The man withdrew the knife and returned it
to his side.
Like ice, crushing beneath the heavy boots of a storm trooper, he
spoke: "My time has come to repent and make right what I have done."
"What are you talking about?" Jezebel yelled, "What the fuck are you
talking about?!"
He lunged for her, but her quickness allowed her to evade him and
avoid the point of the knife he wielded.
"I made the mistake of embracing you, child. Many I have embraced.
And the time has come for me to cleanse the soul I have left and
sacrifice my children. I must remove the stains I have put on this
earth."
"You... You're my sire..." She said quietly, backing away from him
and easing her way to the doorway.
"Yes... I raped you and fucked you like the whore you have become."
"Why would you say such a thing? Why did you... Why did you make me
this way?"
"I was a venomous man. Frightened of my newfound strength and
immortality. I thought I was a god. But I was wrong. I'm erasing
the mistakes of my youth."
"But I'm not a mistake! I was... I was human until you..."
"Yes, yes... I know... But I made you what you are. I am your sire.
Give yourself to me and we will make things right. I will be quick in
taking your heart."
He swiped at her, lunging forward. He missed her as she dodged to the
side and he fell against the wall, blade slicing into the dark wood.
"Fuck you!" Jezebel said. She swung her arm around, elbowing her
attacker in the jaw and drawing blood. With a quick jump, she found
the door and opened it. As he came again for her, she caught him in
the balls with a heavy foot and he squealed. He dropped to the floor
and cursed her as the bitch he claimed she was.
She wanted to look back as she fled, but the sheer anger and
relentlessness in his eyes had convinced her that one more glance
would not be worth her life. She ran. Andi should have been to work
by now and she would be able to speak with her there. In her
presence, she would feel safe.
The bar was alive tonight. Not crowded, by any means, but there were
enough people to mingle and dance with. Jezebel made her way through
the people to the counter.
"Jezzy! You're here!" Eddie said loudly, handing her a drink.
She shunned the drink and asked him when Andi would be on the stage.
"She's got another ten minutes, babe. You want I should go get her
for you?-- I gotta say, I'm damn pleased one of my girls returned
after a night with you. Guess there's a first time for nearly fuckin'
everything ain't there?"
"Thanks," she replied, "but I'll just go talk to her myself. I'm in a
hurry."
Eddie saw something unusual in Jezebel's face. It was... anxiety. He
hadn't seen her worried about anything before. "Jez-- you okay? Is
everything alright?"
She looked up at him. She would like to have told him, but could not
risk involving him in this. He was a bit of a prick, but he didn't
deserve to have anything like this thrust upon him. He wouldn't stand
a chance. "I'm... There's someone I don't want to see. And I want
Andi to know who he is."
"Well, I see anybody in here looks a bit suspicious, I'll take care of
them. Now get on back and see Andi before she goes on!"
Jezebel moved around people, zigzagging her way to the back of the
club. The pattern of lights changed, and the blue intensified;
pulsed. The music changed. A harsh, industrial riff of KMFDM shook
the building.
Andi danced powerfully onto the stage; demanding attention and getting
it.
Damn!, Jezebel thought. She couldn't get to Andi from the
dance-floor. There was no way up and the stage was much too high.
Steps. There were steps behind stage from the dressing room that she
could use. If she could get her attention from behind there.
But that would cause a commotion. Ten minutes. She could wait ten
minutes. Andi would have another thirty minutes before her next set
afterward. She could wait. She stepped up to the front part of the
stage and watched Andi dance. Her nearly naked body spun and her
breasts bounced. Her long arms wrapped around the brass poles and
then around herself. She caressed her body and lay on the floor,
slithering toward the crowd.
Her eyes caught Jezebel's. Eagerly, Jezebel tried to communicate to
her, gesturing and yelling, but it was too loud for her voice to
carry.
Jezebel waited and watched. Just a few minutes. It was all going to
be fine. Her Sire was behind her, crawling on his knees in pain. He
would be awhile before finding her-- and this would be the last place
he would look for her.
Eddie took a clean cloth and dried the inside of the glasses before
him. It was a pleasantly busy night. More people meant more money.
And more money meant... Well, it meant he could get the hell out of
this town and away from his ex-wife. Some place warm would be nice.
But he wasn't excited at the thought of leaving the gorgeous women who
danced for him. Especially Andi. She had worked out very well at his
bar. Such a beautiful young thing when she walked in off the streets
looking for a gig. And here she was, his main draw for customers.
His thoughts turned to Andi's new fling, Jezebel. The thought of them
together made him snicker. Somehow, they seemed appropriate for one
another. He'd sure like to get a piece of each of them, though. But,
he wondered, what was up with Jezzy tonight? She seemed so worried.
Her mind was definitely elsewhere and she was scared.
Who could she mean by 'him'? It certainly couldn't have been an
ex-boyfriend. When had he ever seen her interested in a male? To
that point, when had he seen her around any men?
A dark image reflected in the glass he held. Eddie looked up from it
and saw the bearer. It was a tall, dark-haired man. He wore damaged
sunglasses and walked with a subtle limp. His pale skin-- it looked
as if he'd ripped it from Jezebel and worn it himself; so pale.
He certainly didn't belong in a place like this. He didn't seem to
even want to be walking into this place. Eddie's instincts raised his
interest and he stopped the man.
"Can I help you? Are you looking for someone?"
The man kept silent, scanning the room. He was looking for someone.
Jezebel. Eddie would have wagered his scrotum on it. The man turned
to Eddie and said, "Yes, thank you-- I've found what I'm looking for."
The man removed his hat and glasses. His eyes were pits and their
blackness froze Eddie as he opened the drawer by the register and took
the butt of the revolver inside.
The man walked further. Those who were standing moved from his path
as he approached. He certainly was not going to move around them.
Several people at their tables glanced nervously upward as he passed
them. He wore a grimace.
Jezebel felt a cold stare. It darted across the room and froze the
hair on her neck. She turned, sure of the eyes that stare came from.
Her Sire. His angry, mechanical hate bearing on her. Forbidding her
to flee. And to flee would only prolong the chase.
She knew that he was weakened. The limp he had acquired from their
earlier encounter gave his pain away. And the grimace on his face,
which was more than just hate-- pain.
Her mind raced and she wanted to alert Andi. Seek Andi's help so that
she would be all right. So that she would not have to face this end
alone. But only she and her Sire existed. Outside their bodies the
world moved in slow colored blotches, blurring their peripheral
vision.
Andi suddenly ceased dancing. At their tables, customers grumbled and
wondered why she had stopped. She nervously clutched at her face,
naked body standing free. She stared exactly into the eyes of the
dark-eyed man who had torn her attention from her routine. He was
oblivious to her, though. He moved in a set manner, determined, as he
came upon Jezebel.
"Jezebel!" Andi screamed. She could not get her attention. "Eddie!"
She screamed, realizing that Jezebel was unable to gather her senses.
She seemed... hypnotized and drawn into the void where the strange
man stood. The man from her very own dreams, whom she had seen above
Jezebel many days before.
Eddie saw the commotion as the patrons of his bar mumbled worriedly
and unknowingly in response to the sight before them. The dark man
who had entered minutes before reached a cold hand to Jezebel,
brushing her cheek. Without words, Eddie drew the pistol from below
the counter. With a clear line, he fired. Twice. The first tore
through the man's right arm, shattering his elbow. The second bullet
pierced his shoulder, throwing him forward against the stage.
The man screamed and stood to look at Eddie. In a magnificent bound,
the wounded man leaped to the stage. He shoved Andi off and she fell
clumsily to the floor below. She winced as the room echoed with the
snapping of her forearm. The dark-eyed man, with his healthy arm,
ripped a brass pole from the ceiling, it's now jagged edges reflecting
light against the walls of the now empty nightclub.
Eddie fumbled with the pistol. It clicked twice.
The man turned toward the bar, twenty yards from the stage. He
hoisted the brass pole like a massive shining javelin.
"Christ!" Eddie swore, hoping furiously for the trigger to give.
'Click'.
The man hurled the pole into the air and it sailed across the room.
'Click'. The magazine could not be empty. It was always kept fully
loaded. God damned miss-fires! "Christ!" Eddie swore again as his
eyes caught the end of the pole bearing down on him from the center of
the room. He forced the trigger once more and the gun fired. Eddie
didn't see the bullet hit its target squarely in the jaw, throwing
bone and teeth spattering across the stage and lights. The pole
carved through Eddie's large forehead with its uneven rude edge. It
speared him against the back of the bar, between black and white
photos on the wall.
Andi screamed as she saw her boss-- her friend, slaughtered in her
defense.
The dark-eyed man, seeming only momentarily effected by his wounds,
dove from the stage, landing on Jezebel's back, wrapping his arms
around her head. She would die and he would see to it. His mistake
would be erased.
Jezebel knew she was in danger. She wanted to fight off her Sire, but
he leapt on her and controlled her. How could she fight her creator?
How could she destroy he, who gave her life?-- But these were not her
own thoughts. God, these were not hers! They were his! She knew
this and fought desperately to banish them from her head. But his
connection with his progeny, even years later was such that she could
afford only a weak and swift fight before submitting to his obvious
power.
He drained it from her; the power. He reclaimed what he had given
her. To removed her heart from her chest would be the only remaining
step. Then, she would cease to be nasferatu. She would cease to
live.
It was then that Andi felt the surge of power. It was pure adrenaline
coursing through her veins like a wild drug in the arm of an addict.
She was nasferatu as well, and her Sire was soon to expire. She was
strong. She had not yet needed to rely on the instincts that had
embedded themselves in her system these last weeks. Now, it was
impossible to deny that she was more than she ever imagined she could
be.
Instinctively, she willed herself to move across the floor. Despite
the awful pain in her leg, she stood and found herself whisked to
where the dark-eyed man and Jezebel stood. She had not leaped, nor
walked-- yet she had moved from where she sat, to where she now stood.
Her power, in this moment of duress, had grown exponentially.
"Turn to me, coward," she demanded of the dark figure.
He turned, releasing Jezebel from his arms. His mutilated jaw and
mouth could not speak, but she heard words in her mind, "Do not
interfere child. She is mine."
"No," she telepathed to him. She had learned recently of her ability
to communicate without words or gestures with Jezebel. She had not
realized it was an ability beyond herself and her lover.
The dark-eyed man's eyes suddenly gained emotion. Before, so sure and
direct, now curious and growing frightened. He knew instantly that
this one was powerful. She was young and she had something within her
that he had never had... Passion. Yes, he sensed passion in her and
he feared it.
"No," she said aloud this time. "She is mine!"
Shouting gutturally, from her throat, Andi threw her hand into the
man's chest. Her finger's dug instantly into his skin and shock
glazed his eyes. Her hand twisted inside of his body and he slumped
forward, gasping a final breath before she withdrew. He fell to the
floor. Andi loosened her grip and his now still heart rolled from her
hand, dropping next to his belly.
She looked for Jezebel. She was slumped against a barstool. She was
delirious and incoherent, but she would be fine.
Andi would see to that.
-fin-
=====================
-[ Feed The Night ]-
Brother Cadfael
-30-
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