Night of the Vampyre

Valentina opened her eyes as the last glimmer of sunlight disappeared over the horizon. Looking around her, she saw the dank cave of stone in which she'd slept, deep within the rocky, seaside cliff, far from human eyes. She heard the waves violently battering the craggy shore far below. That's why she'd chosen this cliffside dwelling off the coast--it was isolated and utterly unapproachable.

The smell of the decomposing bodies lying about the cave neither enticed nor repulsed her. Their faces, in varying expressions of fear and torment, evoked sadness and revulsion from a remote part of her psyche, remnants from her human life before the change. Curious, she thought, but paid no further mind to it.

At the mouth of the cave, high above the sea, Valentina unfurled her long, leathery wings and leaped into the night air.

She soared over the sea with only the stars to light her way. The rolling swells rose and fell beneath her, with the occasional spray dampening her face. At another time, the experience would have felt free and exhilarating, but she was too focused to enjoy it. She was driven by need...a thirst that could not be denied. Mind, body, and soul, the hunt consumed her. With a single-minded focus, she sought her prey.

Despite the lack of light, Valentina could see as clearly as if it were midday. She could hear the sounds of crabs scuttling between rocks on the shore and smell the seaweed, sweat, and stale beer from the beach in the distance.

There were revelers...a small campfire of driftwood burned cheerfully as young people gathered to socialize, dance, and frolic in the dark, cold surf. One person—a young woman—was farther out from shore than the others.

Perfect, thought the ancient fiend.

She lowered her altitude so that she was skimming the tops of the swells, heading straight for the woman. When Valentina was fifty feet from her prey, she dove into the water and swam deep, far below the swimmer, keeping her in sight all the while. Once she was directly beneath her quarry, she looked up and watched the young woman lazily kicking her feet, treading water.

Valentina's thirst grew, driving her towards madness. She couldn't resist...she wouldn't resist.

Pushing off the sea floor, Valentina saw her clawed hands extend—long, curved nails designed to scrape, scratch, and slice. As she drew ever nearer the unsuspecting swimmer, she smiled wickedly in anticipation of the kill...she would feed this night!

Even as the thought arose, a part of her was revolted and called out against doing harm. Another echo from her past life. Snarling, she pushed it away.

Valentina yanked the woman beneath the sea, wrapping her long, muscular arms around her, savoring the carnality of the woman's wet body pressed against hers. The muffled screams and the heat in her victim's core quickened Valentina's pulse as the helpless woman frantically and vainly attempted to fend the vampyre off. It was no use—it never was. The more the woman squirmed and fought, the greater Valentina's bloodlust grew, until she could forbear no longer.

Valentina grabbed a fistful of the woman's long, blonde hair and yanked her head back, exposing the creamy skin of the swimmer's neck. Ecstasy coursed through her as her fangs tore into the silky, tender flesh, and she moaned in pleasure as the gore coursed down her throat. The bliss shook her, and she bit harder, drank deeper, desperately sating her unholy thirst that only grew as she glutted.

Valentina savored the euphoric intimacy of her victim's last embrace—sensing the slowing of their heart, the final shudders before complete stillness. She looked into the face of the young woman and admired her beauty, marred only by the grievous wound covering half of her neck. More, she thought, licking her lips. I want more...