Nocturnal

by David Paul

  The dark mistress teased me and excited my senses. My mind raced, and I was caught between horror and sinful lust. She traced the outline of my lips with her nipple and then forced the nipple into my mouth. I could feel them hard and taught, yet I could barely see them. She teased me with them, and then she would retreat. She dragged her cold skin across mine.

  I felt her body grinding against me and heard seductive moans of passion echoing within the room. As scared as I was, I couldn’t control myself. I was trapped in the devil’s playground of lust and wickedness. I was being raped by a she-devil, but couldn’t stop enjoying it. The harder I fought, the more I invited her in. Her touch was like nothing of this Earth. Only a temptress from the pit of Hades could create a bitter masterpiece of such pleasure and simultaneous guilt.

  Long fingernails raked my chest like cold razors. She made me enjoy the pain. She made me beg for more pain. Just as I couldn’t take anymore teasing, the succubus slid down and put me inside her. Those red eyes…those red eyes burned a hole through my soul as she rode me slowly. The she-devil’s libido stirred, and her desire was burning. Perspiration poured off my body.

  “I’m not sure that I like this story.” Fiona said. “Can you spare me some of the details?”

  Little did Fiona know, but David was sparing her the details. What happened to him that night is unable to be put into words. David has had his share of women, but no woman could do what she could do. Physically, she knew all of the tricks and probably made up a few tricks of her own. She shined brightly in other areas. Regina had a way of finding the darkest region of your soul and twisting it around her finger. The hellion’s absolute power and sexual magic made her irresistible and uniquely deadly.

  “Do you want the truth?” He asked. “Or do you want me to fabricate the details of what I have experienced?”

  What he has to tell her is as close to the truth as he could ever venture to say. David is holding back more information, but he is telling her what she needs to hear. It is the truth with some omissions. A master manipulator for centuries has difficulty telling the whole truth. Vampires only care about their own interests, but David does the best he can with the given circumstances. No matter how hard David tries to be human, the vampire can never be his old self. The man he once was is long dead. All he can do is try to save Fiona from a similar fate.

  The tiny spark of jealousy burning in Fiona’s soul is evident to the vampire. He can clearly smell the pheromones of the emotion on her skin. The light sarcasm in her voice only confirms the obvious. Using psychology is the only way that David can get into her mind, without actually using his powers. He wants to use Fiona’s emotions against her to sway her decision.

  Any character flaws in her persona will be greatly magnified in her existence as a vampire. Even the smallest amount of envy could poison an otherwise healthy mindset when influenced by the curse. He can already see how this will affect her when she is turned. He hoped that the night didn’t end with her being damned. The vampire will play every card that he has to circumvent that outcome. If she truly wanted to have a long-lasting love with David, her decision will be an obvious one.

  “May I continue?” The vampire asked. She nodded, but he could tell that it was done halfheartedly. Her walls are up, and he can sense that she is getting feisty.

  Faster, she took me. My entire body was entangled with hers as if she and I were one. I could feel her icy hands wrapped around my throat, asphyxiating me. The beast would choke me and then release the choke-hold just before I collapsed. She continued this dangerous erotic game for some time. Two unholy lovers climaxed, and she howled an unnatural bloodcurdling moan as I came deep inside of her. I heard the name Regina spoken on the wind. I was dead silent.

  I awoke with a racing heart, and I was sweating bullets. The demon was gone. I still didn’t know what was real or imagined. My chest was bleeding from multiple deep scratches that ran the length of my torso. I checked myself, only to discover that I had ejaculated.

  The bed was wet, and I could no longer smell Katerina’s lingering perfume. All I could smell was the enchanting scent of the she-devil from my dream. I was confused, but the evidence pointed to something that was more than just a dream.

  Panic struck me as I thought of Katerina. The black wolf vision in my dream had me really concerned and scared for her safety. It was very late in the evening, almost morning, but I had to know Katerina was safe. I quickly dressed up, ran to the stable, and grabbed the first horse that I could saddle. I road furiously into town, and I went to the chapel.

  The large front door was bound from the inside, so I went around the back to get to where the clergyman stayed. The door was broken off of its hinges. A familiar foul odor overpowered the usually incensed chapel. I searched frantically for Katerina and Father Paolo in the dark chapel. Only the candle in the furthest corner of the chapel was lit. I used it to light some of the larger candles in the ceiling for some illumination. Just before the sleeping quarters, I found Father Paolo…or part of him. I was completely stunned.

  Someone had decapitated the kind priest and put his head inside of the tabernacle. Blood was nowhere to be found, which was strange. An upsetting look of horror was frozen on his face. Katerina was nowhere to be found. Father John was disemboweled and nailed to the chapel’s giant wooden crucifix, and once again, no blood was to be found. A flickering candle revealed the rest of Father Paolo. His headless body was seated in the wooden confessional booth with a Bible in his hands.

  A trail of blood led to the door of the confessional. Blood leaked from the inside of the confessional. I opened the door and prayed that Katerina was not mauled, injured or worse. The boy, Vito, who was a helper to the priests, was found on the sinner’s side of the confessional booth. Unfortunately for my eyes, his fate was just as gruesome as the rest. Vito had been stabbed so many times by a sharpened elk horn, and his blood was everywhere in the confessional. The elk horn was found stuck under his chin and through his brain. I immediately threw up at this sight. I somehow managed to not get sick with all of the other atrocities, but this had set me off.

  Fiona is not the squeamish type, but she looks like she is ready to burst. Tears and a look of horror are all she can muster.

  Scrawled on the confessional wall in Vito’s dripping blood was a holy man. This was a sick joke from the killer implying a man filled with holes. I didn’t appreciate the twisted sense of humor. A house of God looked like a house of horrors. After I regained my composure, I noticed some kind of archaic symbol carved into his forehead. It looked like something that only the Devil himself would have scribed…more blasphemy.

  The symbol was one that I had seen before. I saw the same five-pointed pentacle in Zurelda’s circle of blood at the Grand Fountain. That awful smell was still in the chapel. I actually felt her presence still in the room. Somehow, she and I had bonded when she had touched my hand. I somehow knew that she had Katerina.

  The sun started to come up, and sunlight shined through the stained glass windows adding an even more surreal look to this grizzly scene. Only a beast could lack so much humanity. Zurelda was a foul beast, and I was determined to find Katerina and send the witch back to Hell.

  I left my horse and ran to the village constable to tell him of what happened in the chapel. The constable had just woken up, and he struggled to follow my wild tale. I explained to the constable that Zurelda was responsible. Once he had heard the witch’s name, the constable shook off his cobwebs. Soon, five guards and the constable had gotten over to the desecrated chapel. Every man became ill when they saw what had happened on the consecrated grounds. The constable was outraged and called for the blood of a witch. It had been many years since they declared that a witch was to be sentenced to death.

  Finding Zurelda would not be easy because she appeared to enter town from inside of the forest. The Black Forest was a place where no one dared to venture at nighttime. So many men have ventured into the twisted trees and moss…never to return.
Children of the village thought the boogie-man lived in there. The scary thing was that the children were so very right. None of us knew where that creature actually bedded down at night. None of us knew how to kill a bloodthirsty spawn of the Devil. I needed guidance and help.

  The constable took over the scene of the crime and suggested that I consult with the town fortuneteller. I left the grizzly scene of the chapel and sought out a man named Capello. I had heard of Capello, yet I had never had any dealings with him. Capello was a known medicine man and a teller of the future. He was also able to hone in on supernatural energy. I had nowhere else to turn.

  For years, I put my faith in God, and tonight, my faith lies in the hands of this man. After what I had seen, there was no way to cast a blind eye to the evil around me. The villager’s have said that he had healed many and helped protect those from evil for a small fee. Even though I had seen blatant evil, I was skeptical of this Capello fellow.

  I arrived at Capello’s abode, which was a simple rundown hut with a thatched roof. It was almost as if Capello had known that I was coming already because the door opened before I knocked on it, and he already asked me to sit down by my name. Some of my skepticism diminished. I offered him a gold piece for his pocket and sat down attentively. He was a short strange fellow with big ears and a wide, broken tooth grin. He didn’t speak another word. The man just looked at me for a short uncomfortable while.

  “So the man with the evil eye on him is now before me. My son, you have been marked, and you are in grave danger, as is Katerina. It may be too late to save her, but you can save yourself by fleeing this town and never looking back,” Capello said.

  He never asked me why I was there in the first place.

  “The love of my life is in the hands of a fiend,” I said, “and I cannot turn my back and run like a child.” The prophet gave me a look like he realized that I wasn’t ready to flee.

  There was a peculiar contraption that had a charred crystal lens on a four-legged stand sitting in the center of the table. Capello took out a chunk of a brown substance that he placed on top of the lens. It appeared to be opium. I had read of opium, but had never seen it or used it. There was a base on the legs, and he placed a glowing rock on this base. A smallish ivory horn, he placed in his mouth.

  After a few unrecognizable words, the rock became bright red and burst into flames. They weren’t natural flames, but something more like an image of flames. In a few moments, the lens was intensely hot. The opium began to burn up, and smoke spiraled into the air. He inhaled the smoke through the curious ivory horn. After a few seconds, he slowly let out the smoke through his nostrils. His face became very loose and his eyes half shut.

  He handed me the smoking ivory horn. With the horn at my lips, I crouched toward the odd contraption until the end of the pipe started to capture the sooty vapors. Warily, I inhaled the streaming dense smoke. The dragon tried his best to fly away, but it was a short flight. The smoky dragon twisted and danced in the stagnant air. A sweet clove like smell, similar to church incense, filled the room. “Chase this dragon into enlightenment,” the strange fortuneteller said. His mental state was trance-like. “He cannot fly away…for he must be caught.”

  Once I grabbed a hold of its tail, I didn’t let go. It fought to flee away into the nighttime, but lost the fight. My thoughts took flight. The dragon took my mind to another place far from this world. All of my thoughts soared to a different level consciousness. That was the first time that a foreign drug had entered my body besides alcohol.

  A warm and tingling feeling spread throughout my neck. It graduated to the back of my head. A comfortable numbing sensation radiated throughout my body. Fear was quickly overtaken by relaxation, which gave way to excitement and oneness with my being. A bizarre stream of different emotions ambushed my thoughts. Capello laughed briefly with the gawkiest stoned smile as I sat there disoriented, but at complete peace with the universe. The fortuneteller wanted to make sure that I was under the influence of his potent drug.

  He had put an earthenware bowl on the table and filled it halfway with pure olive oil. All of his fingers were bandaged, and he removed the bandage on his pointer finger. He had many cuts on this finger. Slowly, he took a small dagger and put another slit on his finger, and he let the blood fall into the bowl. He didn’t even grimace as the blade broke the skin. The blood mixed with the oil crudely and instantly turned burgundy with no separation of the oil.

  He gave me a grave look. I knew that the fortuneteller had no good news to speak of.

  “You have powerful evil forces at work against you,” he said. Capello licked the blood on his wound. He wrapped it with a clean bandage. The fortuneteller never stuttered a word. “Zurelda has already cursed Katerina so that she may not ever bear children. Her womb is now dead, and only a hell-sent beast could be born from it. Zurelda is in liege with an evil spirit named Regina.” My heart dropped as he spoke that name, and a cold chill ran down my spine. I didn’t speak.

  Even while telling Fiona the story, a strange feeling of coldness rushed over the vampire’s body when he spoke her name. Centuries have passed without that name being said. David doesn’t admit this to Fiona.

  ‘Regina is a vampire elder, and she wants your virgin blood. Zurelda has made an evil pact with Regina. Zurelda promised to deliver virgin blood to Regina in return for favor from the ancient evil gods of the Earth and an artifact that the witch will use to bring death and dismay to this village.

  The pact was sealed with blood. The prophecy is already fulfilling itself, for I know that you will not head my warnings. The story has already been written, and we are simply playing it out.

  Zurelda has changed Fate itself for you. Katerina’s virginal blood was used. The blood of the priests was used. The incantation spell she’s planning called for the blood of a woman virgin, the soul of an elder blood relative, the seed of a virgin man, and the blood of a Holy man. All have been satisfied. The unholy recipe is complete.

  Your undying love for Katerina will deliver you to Regina. It has been fated and fabricated as such. It is written in the book of Fate. Even our meeting was foretold, and here you are at my table. I am sorry to tell you this. I am sorry to give such disheartening news to a pure soul.’

  The prophet spoke at length. His steady voice was monotonous. Everything was said matter-of-factually with a bit of a sympathetic bias. His odd pauses in between premonitions left me in anticipation. He spat my fortune in tiny chunks. All the chunks added up to a nightmare. It was not his fault. This was my fate.

  The fortuneteller was destined to speak to me. His tragic news to tell was beyond his control. He was only the messenger. Regardless, his news was grim. Capello was long-winded, but he told me important information. I didn’t have a choice. I had to listen to all that he had to tell.

  Needless to say, I hadn’t really come to grips with all that he was telling me. This was all getting crazier and more far-fetched. This was way too much to absorb. I had seen the witch with my own eyes. I saw her dark magic. Katerina was kidnapped and in the hands of that very same witch. I saw the gruesome aftermath of a multiple murder at a once peaceful chapel and now—goddamn vampires. The opium induced euphoria kept my sanity. Nothing seemed too outlandish now. Calmly, I explained to Capello about the wicked dream I had.

  “So, my dream—was it real?” I asked. Capello seemed as if he would have already known the answer, before I had asked the question. In a sense, I wanted to test Fate to see just how deep the rabbit hole went.

  ‘You only saw what they wanted you to see. This is all part of their plan. Demons and hell spawn feed off of twisting your mind and thoughts. They gain additional power from the fear and confusion generated.

  Negative energy is still a form of energy, and they feast on it. As they are cursed, they live to make others’ lives miserable and full of treachery.

  Everything you saw in that dream is either true or false. Lies and trickery were invented by their kind. The cards will
reveal themselves a hand at a time. We are merely playing a chess game with a pre-determined winner and sequence of moves. All of your choices shall lead you to the same place.’

  “Well, that is just wonderful,” I said. “Tell me more.” I knew that my long-winded friend had more to say. What had I gotten myself into?

  ‘When they buried your Uncle Tomassino, I felt an evil presence as I had watched the service from on top of the hill. It was Zurelda who took his breath and stole his soul. Your uncle is not at peace because Zurelda has imprisoned his soul. His soul is in limbo between Heaven and Hell.

  Hell beckons for another doomed soul. When the roll call of Hell is greater than that of Heaven, then the cosmic balances will be out of phase. That is an entirely different story, son.

  You would need to kill Zurelda before she frees his soul into the void of dark magick. You were chosen by her wickedness because you were pure of heart and virgin blood runs through your veins. Her ugliness drives her rage and fuels her baneful jealousy.

  Zurelda is incapable of having a man, a woman, or a love, unless she uses her powers to charm and to trick her victims. That drives her mad and stokes the fire of her hatred.

  She had been coveting you for quite some time, and she was angered that you never once even looked in her direction. You have been near her so many times without even knowing it. Each time, her jealousy and anger grew deeper and more twisted. A scorned witch hath more fury than that of a scorned woman.