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The wooden porch let out a creak under the heel of your leather boot as you shifted to lean against the railing. The scene before you was a grim, but unfortunately familiar one. Wooden casket, red roses, and tears. You had been in the game so long you had become numb to these situations now.
“For all people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever, just as the memory of dear Grace. Blessed be the life of Grace Barlow, who now lives in eternal peace. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.” The priest gives a final sign of the cross to the crowd before him. You allowed your fingers to move from your head to your chest, then shoulder to shoulder before bringing the rosary that laid upon your chest up to your lips for a final kiss in unison with the crowd.
As the service finished, you made your way down the porch steps as those who were once sitting in rows began to file into the grieving family’s home to await the burial. Walking down the short aisle, you nodded to the priest as he passed you by.
Taking a deep breath, you approached Grace’s husband, Peter. He stood above his deceased wife, staring down at her with eyes red from everlasting tears. As the spurs on your boots clinked, he glanced briefly behind him at you before shifting his attention back to his wife. “You made it.”
You nodded, joining beside him, “Apologies for missing the first half of the service Mr. Barlow. A farmer just North of here said he saw a mysterious male figure near his barn last night. Then found one of his goats with the blood completely drained from it in the early morning. Had to bring in a priest to bless the place, but anyway— I think it might be who you’re looking for.”
Before he could respond you looked down at Grace before you. Her face, though flushed from all its color, looked peaceful. She wore a long, lavender dress, with a matching ascot that was no doubt placed to cover the scar she received from her assailant.
“May I?” You asked Peter. He nodded somberly, placing a gentle hand on Grace’s ascot and pulling it down slightly to reveal her neck. As you suspected, the scarred fang marks were still visible on her pale skin. Her skin was ice cold, but you had touched enough deceased bodies to remain indifferent. You brushed your fingers over the scar.
The bite of a vampire.
“I didn’t get a good look at it.” Peter began, “It was late. I–I told Grace not to go out so late, but she—” His voice shook. “She went anyway, almost as if she was bewitched by that—”
“I understand.” You nodded earnestly. “Not to worry though, if the same one was lurking just North of here, he can’t be too far.” You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of it.”
Peter took Grace’s hand once more before muttering, “You better. I am paying you after all.” He placed a final delicate kiss on her skin before closing the wooden casket altogether.
With the shut of the casket you gave a solemn goodbye before turning away, making your way through the family’s home. The sorrowful faces that gathered had no effect on you. They had once upon a time, but that was long ago. When you first began vampire slaying, every case felt personal. You made promises to grieving masses that you couldn’t always keep. Over time you had learned how to steel yourself against the pain of others. You were given your task and you executed these tasks with nothing less than precision and duty. Leaving the residence, you lifted yourself onto your horse and made your way Northbound.
On your journey, you stopped by the local gunsmith in the town of Valentine to ensure you had the right supplies for the night’s hunt. Hunting a vampire would take more than prayers or garlic as many often believe. You hitched your horse, gave her a sweet pat and entered the gunsmith to a familiar face.
“Ah, the vampire slayer.” The shopkeeper, Ralph, smiled knowingly, “You haven’t been here in a while. The usual I suppose?” You answered his question affirmingly. He went to the locked wooden box on the wall to grab your ammunition.
“I’ve been out in the plains near Blackwater.” You explained, “I caught word of a woman who was left for dead just outside the perimeter of her home just South of here. Had two holes in her neck. Widower offered to pay me a sizable amount for the bastard’s head.”
Ralph placed a box of pure silver bullets in front of you. “Well, this should do the trick alright.” You picked up one of the bullets to examine it while Ralph continued. “Take the whole box, you might need it; heard it’s a blood moon tonight.”
Your mind began to race as you replaced the lead bullets in your revolver for the silver ones. A blood moon meant the perfect night for hunting a vampire, but for all the wrong reasons. Any vampire out on a blood moon would no doubt be looking for a body to feast on which meant the hunt shouldn’t take much time. The energy of the blood moon however, would also amplify their power. With this in mind, you placed your revolver back into your holster and kept the box of the gleaming bullets.
You began your journey on horseback, heading further North into the West Grizzlies where you suspected the vampire would continue heading, based on where he was last seen. You crossed over the Dakota River and ventured into the increasing vision of trees.
You slowed your horse down to a trot as you spotted tracks of drying blood on the dirt ground, shining in the golden glow of the sunset. The sunsetting meant your time would soon become limited. You hopped off your horse to follow the tracks on foot. You kept one hand on your holster, ready to draw at any given moment before coming across the source of the blood.
The trail of blood led to a large rock, where behind it laid a lifeless doe. The doe appeared gaunt and discolored. This was no work of any ordinary predator. The two holes on the animal’s neck only proved your theory. You brushed your fingers along the two apertures, the blood was still tacky. He couldn’t be too far.
You continued on the trail, slowing your horse to a stop once the sun had finally set. You took out the sharp knife in your holster, holding the edge of the blade to your palm before taking a gasping breath and slicing into yourself.
“Fuck,” You whispered with a wince at the familiar pain. The cut was not deep, but enough to draw a bit of your crimson blood for your next step. You grabbed a white linen handkerchief out of your satchel and first wiped it along your neck to catch your scent. You then used the fabric to wipe the trickling blood off your palm. Once the fabric had been smeared with enough blood you tossed it to the ground below you: the perfect bait.
You strayed from the trail to head into the line of trees to set up a camp for the night, allowing whatever blood was left on your palm to trickle onto the ground below. The light of the moon had already begun to shine, appearing darker than any traditional night. Soon the light would shine red with the blood moon.
You stoked your fire, wanting the smoke to attract your unwanted, yet desired visitor, and rinsed the dried blood from your palm with water from the nearby stream.
The howling of the night’s wind grew as the time passed, the moon becoming a copper version of its original self. You remained seated alongside your campfire, staring at the dancing flames and leaping embers. Your vigilance persisted as the moon grew more and more red through the night, until it was eventually so vivid that it reminded you exactly why it was called a blood moon. The moonlight shone on your makeshift campsite, but was not exactly the inviting kind. The stream nearby now looked like a stream of blood flowing in the shape of veins. The ground before you that was once brown now appeared a wine-red hue.
The nearby rustling of leaves caused you to snap your attention to the line of trees ahead of you. You attempted to spot any figure of some sort, but before you could there was another rustle of leaves behind you. You quickly whirled to face where the noise came from. He was circling you like a predator stalking its prey.
You gulped, but kept a brave face as the snapping of a twig whipped your attention behind you once more. This time you stood quickly, facing the line of trees. In an instant, the creature appeared standing before you.
The vampire was far more elegant than you were used to. Clad in black jeans and a white button-up shirt, saturated in the moon's glow, he wore a long black duster embellished with gleaming golden buttons. His hair was meticulously tied back, effortlessly framing his regal features. His eyes were dark, with a glint of red that you briefly wondered was from the shine of the moon.
“I believe you dropped this, miss.” He spoke, his words coming out like silk as he presented the white handkerchief soiled in your blood. He flashed a smile and even in the scarlet-tinted night you could see the knifelike edges of his fangs.
A beat passed as you contemplated your options. Shooting wasn’t one, at least not yet; he’d easily evade any bullet with the speed he’s displayed, perhaps it would even make him more combative. Your revolver remained in the holster hanging off your hips as you made your next move.
“Oh— it must’ve fallen on my ride.” You spoke innocently, maintaining distance between the two of you.
“Perhaps,” He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his gaze steady as he looked you up and down.
“Perhaps not.” He allowed the handkerchief to slip from his fingers onto the scarlet floor as he sauntered slowly towards you, “A chance encounter with a vampire sl—”
Those words were your signal to quickly draw your weapon, the metal barrel now aimed directly as his chest.
He stopped in his place, raising his hands in surrender with a smoky chuckle. “Let me finish.”
Instead, you cocked the hammer of the revolver, raising another chuckle from the man, “Ay, no, no. Amada, you don’t want to do that,” His playful, yet alluring demeanor continued. His words were laced with an enticing charm that you were trying to ignore.
As he looked down the barrel of your weapon, you met his gaze once more. His eyes bore into you with what you could only describe as an insatiable desire. The glint of red in his eyes intensified as he spoke smoothly, “You’re not going to pull that trigger.”
You felt your hand stiffen involuntarily against the cold metal. You gasped lightly with realization— he was manipulating your mind. His entrancing words began to echo in your mind. Your finger shook against the trigger as you attempted to resist his unearthly enchantment. This supernatural compulsion was one you had only ever heard of, but never encountered.
You widened eyes only seemed to elicit another smile from the vampire, his tongue quickly brushing over the edge of one of his fangs, “What? Never seen it before? My little trick is… quite something, isn’t it?”
He kept his eyes connected with yours as he made his way beside you. You felt frozen in place, your weapon now pointed at the dark line of trees. He stopped when he was at your elbow, not close enough to touch you, but the pull of his nearby presence was beginning to feel intoxicating.
“Drop it,” He whispered. You felt the words continue to echo in your mind as the weapon slipped right through your hand, dropping onto the floor. His gaze felt magnetic. You couldn’t look away, but you knew this had to be the source of this supernatural compulsion.
As your hands fell to your side, he stepped in front of you. You felt your roles reverse. He had now disarmed your weapon and your will with only a few enchanting words and a fixed look. You stood in silence under the tapestry of the scarlet eclipse; he was thinking, but of what?
The vampire’s gaze broke for only a second to look down at your lips. In the red moonlight they appeared very tempting to the vampire. Though you didn’t know it, he felt entranced by you too. In a way that he knew couldn’t be supernatural, as you were only a mere mortal, yet he felt as though you had bewitched him somehow. His mouth opened to speak once more, but when his eyes flickered back to yours, they found them already closed; for in that instant, you had shut them tightly, halting his entrancement.
You had broken his compulsion of your mind, yet you still felt caught in his undeniable allure. You didn’t move, not to push him away, not even to grab the silver stake laying by your crackling fire. You wanted to remain as close to him as possible.
“That’s a beautiful necklace,” He spoke again. As his voice brushed against your ear you could hear that he had now moved behind you. Without your sight you allowed yourself to focus on his voice. He spoke sultrily, his words leaving you wanting more. Could he be suggesting what you thought?
Your silver rosary plastered against your chest reflected brightly against the moon’s crimson glow. No vampire could touch the cross’ wearer without getting their skin scorched. He wanted you, that was clear now. He ached to touch you, but couldn’t as long as the rosary remained a barrier on your body.
You allowed your eyes to flutter open, turning only your gaze back towards him. This time you willingly looked into his eyes, wondering if he felt the same burning desire you did. His lips parted as if he were going to speak again, but closed in silent contemplation.
Tenderly, he reached out for your fingertips. Before you could register his touch he was recoiling with a sharp wince as his skin felt the searing of the cross. Your eyes widened in shock, wondering why he’d risk getting burned. You look down at his fingers, the tips now a scorched black, then back up to him with sympathy. Your compassion was unexpected as you felt an odd sense of admiration for his action.
“It’ll be worth it,” He reassured you in a murmur, “Just for one touch.”
A blooming sensation filled your body, your cheeks flushing at his words. You could feel yourself pulse with want— with need. You both remained silent as you raised your hands to unclamp the necklace. Your heart raced as you let the rosary slip off your chest onto the wine-red ground below.
He took one of your hands in his and you felt his touch for the first time. His touch was cold this time, yet held an ethereal quality. He pressed a tender kiss against the top of your hand, then held onto it as his kisses traveled delicately up your arm. Every kiss was intoxicating and filled with his passion. As his lips pressed against your shoulder, he slowed, allowing you time to tilt your head to give him complete access to your neck.
“I think…” He muttered against the bare skin of your neck, his breath sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. His lips grazed you as he continued, “I deserve a taste.”
An involuntary, trembling moan escaped your lips as his began to kiss your nape ever so gently. You looked up to the blood red moon, its deep red glow reflecting onto both your bodies. You gasped lightly as he nipped you lightly, holding himself back from devouring you altogether.
You brought your hand up to caress him as he continued to kiss hungrily at the crook of your neck. You craved more of him, pulling him in closer to let him know you needed more. He groaned against your neck as his hands began to explore your curves. You arched your back against his touch. He rubbed his hands over your breasts, then moved down to your hips to press your bodies closer together. His touch was sending a burning sensation throughout your body, you could feel yourself begin to throb at the feeling.
He used his hands to turn you to face him, keeping his hands rubbing up and down your hips in harmony with your arms now placed on his biceps. He kissed up your jawline, eventually finding home against your open lips. He kissed you hungrily as you returned the carnal lust. He was addicting, like nothing you had ever felt before. You moaned against his lips with desperation.
You hooked a leg around his waist, pulling him in closer. The movement was all he needed to effortlessly lift you, his hands getting lost in the ruffles of your long skirt as you cupped his face to kiss him deeply, your lips growing more and more needy.
Amongst your palpable insatiableness, he gracefully pressed you against a tree. You moved your hands down and began frantically undoing the lace of your bodice. Feeling your hands, the vampire took the liberty of assisting you by yanking at the lace, pulling it off of you easily before tossing it onto the floor along with his duster.
He took his lips off yours only to turn his attention back to your neck, grazing it with careful passion as he worked his way down to your collarbones, and lifting you higher to nip at your breasts. You threw your head back against the tree in pleasure, arching your back against what you could feel was his hardening cock below. He kept one hand beneath you, supporting his hips to keep you pinned up against the tree, but allowed his other hand to slip between your thighs
Your nails raked across the back of his white button-up shirt as you gripped him desperately, the burning fire becoming overwhelming as his fingers pushed past your undergarments to play with your wetness. He continued to suck on your breasts, marking you as his own. The combined sensations left you pleading for more.
“Please,” You whimpered, arching against his fingers, begging for him to enter. You felt him smile against your skin, his eyes flickering up to yours with contemptment at your desperation.
He gave in, letting one of his fingers slip into you. You trembled at the feeling, gripping him tighter. He moved his finger up and down at an achingly slow pace, enjoying how you threw your head back, looking up at the red night sky, muttering please, please, please as if you were pleading to God for more. He answered your prayers by gently slipping another finger up into you. He moved up to nip back at your neck, enjoying the vibrations that came with your needy moans.
The scent of blood he got from your neck became dizzying for him. He moaned deeply against your neck, pulling back, but keeping his forehead pressed against your collarbone in what appeared to be frustration.
“Eres una dulzura,” He breathed out. He slipped his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips to taste sensually before reaching down to undo his jeans. He swiftly pushed his already hardened cock into you with fervor, causing you to let out a sharp gasp. With that, you pushed your lips back against his hungrily and raked your fingers through his hair.
You arched your back against him as he continued to pound into you. His rhythm quickened with approval as you grew incoherent against his lips. He let his hand slip down to rub your sensitive clit in circles, causing you to buck your hips with eagerness as you began to moan noisily at his touch. He didn’t let up, keeping in time with his thrusting as you felt your bodying nearing its peak.
His pace quickened as the pressure within him increased, needing release. He grunted against your neck, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. With a final thrust, you felt him still inside you as he reached his climax, the hot liquid filling you fervently as he rode out his high. He groaned loudly as he moved his fingers quickly against your clit as you let him know you were going to come too.
Just as you reached your peak, you felt his fangs scrape the delicate skin of your neck before puncturing your skin completely. You cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure. The bite sent a powerful force through your body as you reached your climax. Your body clenched with intensity as he sucked on your neck with an insatiable hunger. You quivered against him, clinging onto his body for support.
He roughly brought his mouth away from your neck, as if holding himself back. He panted heavily, the blood— your blood— dripping from his fangs. His tongue quickly brushed over his lips to collect the dripping blood as he didn’t want any of it to go to waste.
He slipped himself out of you before gently placing you back onto the ground, though you remained leaned against the tree behind you for support. He continued to plant sinfully slow kisses along your collarbone as you breathed heavily, looking up and silently praying the red moon above would forget to go down and keep this night eternal.