Nineteen
Sarah took the key with a numeral 1 on it and walked down the hall to the first door. A piece of paper was taped to the door with a 1 printed on it. She put the key in the lock and opened the door and stepped inside.
A girl about sixteen years old was lying on the bed. She looked up and it was evident she’d been crying. Her hair was mussed and her eyes were bloodshot.
When she saw it was a woman who entered, the look of fear and dejection on her face was replaced with an expression of hope. She jumped off the bed and ran toward Sarah. “Oh, please, miss. You’ve got to help me,” she cried, grabbing Sarah’s shoulders. “A man kidnapped me and has been holding me prisoner here for days.”
Sarah smiled sweetly and pulled the girl to her, holding her in her arms and murmuring soothingly. “Don’t worry, dear,” Sarah said in a low voice. “Everything is going to be all right soon.”
The girl leaned back and wiped tears from her eyes. “My name’s Jill,” she said. “Can you keep that awful man from hurting me?”
Sarah smiled. “Of course, Jill. Take my word for it, you have absolutely nothing to fear from the man who brought you here.”
“Oh, thank God,” Jill said as she turned to pick up her purse from the bed.
Sarah stepped in close behind her and reached around her, cupping Jill’s breasts with her hands as she nuzzled her neck with her lips.
“What—what are you doing?” Jill asked, stiffening and trying to pull away.
“I’m going to love you, Jill, dear,” Sarah murmured against the young girl’s skin.
“But I’ve never done that before. . . .”
Sarah put her hands on Jill’s shoulders and turned her around. “Trust me, Jill. You’re going to love what I’m going to do to you.”
Jill’s eyes widened and she shrank back as Sarah moved in close and pulled the girl to her once more, fastening her lips on Jill’s in a deep kiss.
After a moment, Jill relaxed and moaned when Sarah’s hands gently undid her blouse and slipped under her bra to squeeze her nipples while they kissed.
Slowly, never taking her lips from Jill’s, Sarah moved her back toward the bed as she continued to caress Jill’s breasts.
When she felt the edge of the mattress press against the back of her knees, Jill lay back on the bed, pulling Sarah with her.
Sarah pushed her tongue between Jill’s lips and moved her right hand down between Jill’s thighs. Jill moaned again and spread her legs, pushing her sex against Sarah’s hand as it slipped inside her shorts.
“Oh, that feels so good,” Jill cried out, putting her arms around Sarah and pulling her down tighter against her.
Sarah reached up and ripped Jill’s blouse and bra off, then pulled her shorts and underwear off and threw them on the floor.
Jill, writhing in pleasure at the feeling Sarah’s fingers were causing, shut her eyes and arched her back when Sarah circled her nipple with her lips and began sucking on it.
She cried out in surprise and pain when Sarah’s teeth bit down on the nipple, causing blood to spurt onto Sarah’s tongue.
Sarah, excited beyond all control by the taste of Jill’s blood in her mouth, rolled on top of her and buried her face in her neck.
Jill hunched up against Sarah’s pelvis, grinding and moaning as Sarah put her lips to her neck.
A sharp pain in her neck made Jill cry out again and she turned to look at Sarah. Her eyes widened and she began to scream in earnest when she saw Sarah’s face melt and change, with her teeth elongating, dripping with red drool.
Sarah growled once, then fastened her teeth into Jill’s flesh while she pumped her groin against the girl’s. Jill stopped screaming and began to whimper as her mind retreated into insanity at the sight of the monster feeding on her. She lay there limp and unresponsive, her eyes blank and sightless.
Within minutes, Sarah climaxed with a scream and tore out her victim’s neck with one mighty bite, exulting in the taste of Jill’s blood as it pumped all over her face.
Christina entered room 2 and locked the door behind her. She saw a man with several days’ growth of beard sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall. He had bushy, unkempt hair and a sallow complexion indicating years of alcohol and drug abuse.
He turned reddened, bloodshot eyes on Christina and grinned, revealing yellow teeth. “Hey, lady,” he said in a hoarse, gravelly voice. “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on here?”
Christina’s nose wrinkled at the sour, fetid smell of the man. “I’m here to set you free,” she said, walking toward him.
His eyes brightened and he struggled to his feet. “ ’Bout time,” he said sullenly.
Christina moved toward him, licking her lips at the sight of his carotid artery pulsing in his neck. She stepped up to him and put her hands on either side of his head. Slowly, never taking her eyes off his, she opened her lips and planted a kiss on his.
For a moment, surprise showed in his eyes, but then he responded as all men do. He put his arms around her and pulled her breasts against his chest and thrust his hardening penis against her.
“Is that a knife in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?” Christina teased.
The man leaned back and looked at her. “Lady, next to a drink, you’re ’bout the best thing that’s happened to me in—I can’t remember when,” he said.
Christina stepped back, undid her dress, and let it fall to the floor. She was naked underneath.
“Jesus,” the man said, his voice husky with desire.
Christina turned her back to him, sauntered over to the bed, and lay down on her back, her legs spread for him.
It took him less than a minute to shed his clothes and join her on the bed. He fastened his lips on her right nipple and got between her legs, pushing his penis against her.
Christina grinned. “Wow, that’s some foreplay, mister,” she said.
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” she said, shifting slightly so his penis entered her as she pulled his head down and placed her lips against his neck.
“God almighty,” he cried as he began to pump as fast as he could against her.
Suddenly he felt her bite his neck; he jerked his head back. “Hey, no biting,” he complained.
Christina shook her head. “No, you don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” he asked, starting to grind against her again.
“Biting is what this is all about,” Christina said, and she jerked his head down and fastened her lips to his neck, piercing the skin and entering his carotid artery in one convulsive bite.
He had time to scream once before Christina jerked her head from side to side, ripping out his artery as her claws dug into his hips and buried him deeper inside her.
His erection outlasted his life long enough for Christina to groan in sexual release as she gulped and swallowed his blood.
Jean Horla put his key in the lock of room 3, opened it, and entered, closing it behind him.
A black woman, dressed in the traditional garb of the street prostitute—a miniskirt that barely covered her hips and a halter top, which exposed more breast than it covered—was sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, filing her nails.
She glanced up at Jean. “Mister, I don’t know who the hell you think you is, but my man gonna cut you up into little pieces for what you done to me,” she said in a nasty voice, her eyes narrow with hate.
Jean held up his hands, “Whoa, little lady. No need to get upset,” he said in a reasonable voice. “I’m just in from out of town and I asked my friend to line me up with some entertainment for the night. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you double your usual rate for the time you’ve been here.”
She frowned in suspicion. “Double?” she asked. “In advance?”
“Sure,” Jean said, reaching into his pocket. “How much will that be?”
She hesitated, trying to decide how much she could get. “I usually get two hundred a night, an’ I been here for three days.”
Jean chuckled to himself. He knew she was lucky if she got fifty a night, but what the hell. She’d never live to spend it.
He unfolded a wad of hundred-dollar bills and slowly counted out ten of them. “I’ll give you a thousand if you show me a really good time.”
Her eyes widened at the sight of the stack of hundreds he laid on the dresser against the wall. It was more money than she’d make in a month giving blow jobs to johns in their cars. She was already figuring how much she could hold out on her pimp as she got to her feet and peeled out of her top and miniskirt.
“For that kinda money, you can do whatever you want, sweetie,” she purred, batting her eyes at Jean in what she thought was a sexy manner.
“Good,” Jean said, stripping off his clothes.
Her eyes dropped to his penis, which was almost twice as large as any she’d ever seen. “Hoo, boy,” she exclaimed, moving across the room and taking it in her hands. “Maybe I oughtta be payin’ you, big boy.”
Jean bent down and flicked out his tongue, licking her lips as he turned her toward the bed and gently pushed her down onto her stomach.
“Uh, wait a minute there,” she said, a worried look on her face as she looked back over her shoulder. “I don’t know if’n you’re gonna fit back there.”
Jean grasped her waist and pulled her up onto her hands and knees as he fitted himself behind her. He cupped her pendulous breasts in his hands and rammed into her, causing her to screech in pain as the tender flesh between her buttocks ripped open.
Her eyes were closed and she grunted and groaned when he began to pump against her. His hands became claws, which pierced her breasts as he pulled her back against him.
“Sweet Mary!” she yelled, trying to pull away, “You’re killin’ me!”
“Not yet,” Jean replied through teeth that’d grown down past his lips, “but soon.”
After a moment of wild coupling, he came with a groan and let her flop on her face. She scrabbled on hands and knees away from him, turning in time to see his features melt and coalesce into a monster, with a long pointed tongue flicking in and out as he moved toward her.
“Oh, God . . . No-o-o!” she screamed, her hands going to her face, the pain in her backside forgotten.
He dived on top of her, ignoring her as she clawed at his face with her fingernails and jerked and fought for her life.
He put a claw in her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck to his fangs. He lowered his head and began to feed.
Slowly, her screams diminished into grunts and groans, and her legs and arms became limp at her side.
When she was lying empty on the bed, he stood up and licked the remains of her blood off his lips.
Sighing in complete satisfaction, he picked up his clothes and got dressed. He walked to the dresser and stood in front of the mirror and combed his hair. When he was satisfied with his appearance, he picked up his thousand dollars and put it in his pocket. He left the room without looking back.
Michael Morpheus, unlike most Vampyres, didn’t associate feeding with sex. In fact, he never had sex with his victims, thinking them an inferior species not deserving of such an honor. He saved that for members of his own species.
He entered room 4 and didn’t bother to lock the door behind him. He found the other prostitute he’d kidnapped sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes fearful as she watched him move across the room toward her.
“What you want with me, mister?” she asked, tears forming in her eyes.
He shook his head. “Nothing much. Just your miserable life.”
“What?” she asked, starting to get to her feet.
Michael let himself change, enjoying the look of terror in the woman’s eyes when his hands became claws, his face elongated, and his fangs appeared.
“Oh, Jesus!” she said, her mouth dropping open.
Michael slashed sideways with his claws extended, severing her carotid artery and almost tearing her head off at the neck.
As she flopped backward, he caught her in his arms and pulled her to him, fastening his teeth on her neck and swallowing her blood as it pumped out of her ruined neck.
Within minutes, he was done and he carried her lifeless body out of the room and onto the back porch.
He whistled shrilly, waited for the movement in the reeds at the bayou’s edge, and then casually tossed her body into the water.
The others, finished by now, walked out onto the porch to see what he was doing.
Suddenly the woman’s body was ripped apart by gigantic jaws that emerged from the dark water.
Michael dusted his hands off, grinning at his friends. “There, you see? Nothing for the forensic pathologist to examine.”
Christina grinned. “I love your garbage disposal,” she said, and she left to get her victim’s body from the bedroom to feed to the alligators.
Once all the bodies were gone, Michael and the others met back in his living room.
“I suggest we plan to meet here once a week,” he said. “That should be enough to satisfy the Hunger.”
The others nodded and prepared to leave. Just before Christina got to the door, Michael put a hand on her shoulder. “Christina, why don’t you stay for a while?” he asked.
She glanced down at his lap and saw the large bulge there. “Certainly, Michael,” she replied with a sardonic smile. “What kind of a girl would I be if I didn’t thank a gentleman for taking me out to dinner?”