by Amy Mah
All this heavy thinking was making her sleepy, so with the thought that crushing on a girl could be useful (as you could share a single wardrobe), Amy hugged her pillow. As she started to doze off, her final thought was, No, I’m definitely not a lesbo; sharing a wardrobe is not a cool idea. A single wardrobe would not have enough room for all the plastic flip flops her aunties kept sending her as it was.
Sexy dreams (yes, it is normal)
The following morning arrived as mornings normally did, which was far too early. This morning started earlier than most due to a dream that woke Amy, her fangs fully extended as well as her claws, which were digging into half of the pillow, trying hard to strangle it, while most of the other half was in her mouth.
She spat out a few feathers as the realization of what had happened slowly hit her. It was that same dream again, and now she needed to go clean her teeth. A shower would have been nice, but it would have woken her auntie; rubbing herself all over with a wetwipe was not the same.
It was THAT dream again! For years, Amy had had nightmares of trains, which the psychologist said was about her parents, but this one was certainly not about her parents, and not one she wanted to tell any psychologist about. Girls could have sexy dreams; it was normal. Romantic ones with flowers and chocolate would be nicer, but girls had physical needs, and it was perfectly normal to think of boys… or it would have been if her dreams did not involve jumping out at a boy and sinking her fangs into his neck.
Amy
Chapter 7
Icky days of being a female blood sucker
Tonight Amy was not in a good mood; something was not feeling right. A nice long walk normally helped when she was feeling a bit icky, so she set out on her own. She should have been fine now that she was getting lots of blood, (even if I had to put it in the microwave for 10 seconds and drink it with a straw). It was all that she needed as a vampire pretending to be a pet. Walking at night was also good for her physically: plenty of exercise without the runny eyes that resulted from forgetting to wear sunglasses even on overcast days or having to be sticky all day (and not in a nice sticky way) from the sun block. Her classmates talked about Amy in the girls’ changing rooms, but the 100% UV sun block that she had ordered from the albino self-help society product order hot line did not warn that her that it came as a non-drying gel.
At her age, Amy should have been thinking of romance and guys, not dreams that ended in her biting the guy; talk about strange urges! Or rather, she didn’t; it was bad enough pretending to be a sex pet without the other girls thinking that she was perverted as well. If she did ever get a boyfriend, Amy thought that it would likely involve her having to be careful about going too far when on a date. He would be wondering if he could get to second base with me, and I would be wondering if he would notice if I removed a couple of pints of blood while he played with my boobs.
She mentally shook her head to remove the thoughts of boys and the idea that taking precautions on a date for her meant wearing a bib so as not to get his blood all over her clothes. What she should have been thinking about was her new project, and that was to finish writing her own guide to being a vampire. She wondered why vampire books were written by humans. You may as well have books on African Americans written by the Ku Klux Klan. No, no, no! Mine would be the genuine self-help guide for vampires by a vampire. Amy wasn’t going to tell the pets about it, but she already had the title.
Graveyard Walk
She let the future project slip to the back of her mind as she enjoyed the walk, and tonight it was nice to have someone to walk with her. Cind, or Miss Darkcloud Buttbite, as she was known in the group (which Amy thought sounded more Native American than vamp), was quite friendly when you got to know her. She had an extensive range of vampire books, and she was happy to let Amy borrow them. Because they were so wrong on almost every word they spoke about vampires, the books proved more amusing than informative.
Cind was one of Amy’s very few friends in the pet group. She had been able to confide her fears of being pregnant, and apart from her insisting that all vampires are dead so they could not make a living girl pregnant, she humored Amy by helping her buy a pregnancy test kit, which duly showed negative and would have been a relief if Amy had not then worried that it may only work correctly on humans.
Cind liked walking up to the old graveyard, as according to the books, it was the vampire thing to do. Amy could not figure out the reason why the books said that vampires loved graveyards, as a graveyard meant nothing to a vampire as far as she could see. They were just cold and damp and contained lots of food that had long gone past its sell-by date.
Cind said it was where vampires loved hanging out, which was why she so enjoyed coming here at night. All Amy could think was that vampire-spotting was a dangerous hobby even while wearing a pet ring, so visiting a graveyard at night was probably a good idea, as most vampires would hang about places like nightclubs, offering clubbers a lift and suggesting they stop for a bite to eat on the way home.
Amy had walked here with Cind several times now, so she knew the rules of vampire hunting in graveyards: remember to dress warmly, and go to the bathroom before leaving home. The books said that vampires were cold-blooded, but as far as this vampire is concerned, it was a typing error as it should have said that vampires got cold easily.
She often wondered if any other vampires looked so unlike a vampire as herself, Miss Amy Mah: creature of the night. At least Cind seemed very vampire-ish, dressed all in black.
Cind wore a black coat over black jeans and a black jumper. She even had black gloves. With the mix of colors she was wearing, the closest Amy could get to the world of the supernatural was perhaps as a rainbow fairy.
She knew that vampires should look cool, but this vampire mostly felt cool (or rather, frigging cold) most of the time. That was why she wore the warmest, thickest things she owned when hanging about graveyards. Places may have looked pretty with a frost sparkling in the moonlight, but frost (like snow) was cold.
The thickest leggings Amy had were blood red and were mostly hidden by her brown, full-length wool skirt. Her polo-necked, thick wool jumper was pink (so not my color), and her jacket was charcoal grey. She did know that orange wool mittens did not go with the yellow scarf or the lime green ear muffs (not that I could think of anything that would go with lime green ear muffs), but the night was dark, and she hoped it would stay that way.
It was also windy, damp and cold. The strange selection of colors was of course down to her aunties sending her things that their own daughters refused to be seen dead in. Amy would not have been surprised to be told they all suffered from odd color vision or perhaps a warped sense of humor, but they were the warmest things she owned, so rainbow fairy it was.
As both girls sat on a gravestone, Amy noticed that something did not smell right, and it was not the flask of hot chocolate that Cind had brought with her. She could not place the smell, but it was a sickly sweet smell, perhaps a bit like rotting fruit, and it was beginning to give her a headache. She had already snapped at Cind when she asked what was wrong then immediately apologized. Cind suggested that Amy was just freaked out due to being so close to dead people.
Amy knew that long-dead people in graveyards did not scare her. If there was anything to be frightened of in this graveyard. then it should be me! But right now, it was taking all her willpower to stop her fangs from descending. Amy’s orange mittens were already turning into fingerless gloves as her claws started to extend. Something was wrong. She was not frightened. No, she was just flaming angry, but Amy didn’t know why. Something was wrong, and she was losing control. Heck, losing it was an understatement. I wanted to go ballistic but didn’t know why.
A-Me (my inner vamp)
She had to take control; the female did not know why the young vamp she shared the body with had been ignoring the obvious danger. Of course, she was still very young and dangerously inexperienced. She sniffed the air, but it did not matter, as she was e
xperienced enough for both of them, and it would be foolish to let the enemy think she was careless and had not noticed her. But this toothless hag of a female was a stupid one to dare enter her territory. The tame meal beside her could be left. It was of no importance. She was not even hungry, but the enemy would not know that, and it would serve as a decoy.
Silent as the Grave
Suddenly, Amy was a good 50 feet away from her friend; how she had moved so fast, she did not know. Out of a corner of her eye, she had seen a flash of movement in what should have been a deserted graveyard, and then she jumped, which meant Amy was now crouching on top of a gravestone, holding onto the stone with all four sets of claws while her shoes had somehow been lost or discarded. Looking at Amy was a creature that smelled of rotten fruit; the body of Amy’s friend was lying at the creature’s feet.
Amy did not need any of Cind’s books to tell her that what she was facing was a vampire: a female vampire. The smell was overpowering. It was a sickly sweet smell of danger. The smell was so different from her so-called vampire master; he smelled musky, and no matter how much he shouted, he was nice. But this creature’s stink made Amy want to slash out and kill her. She could feel an uncontrollable rage building up deep within her.
“Get the hell off my friend! Are you blind as well as frigging ugly? She has a pet ring; that means she is a pet, stupid! What part of ‘you don’t eat pets’ can’t you understand, you blood-sucking moron? Now piss off out of my territory before I stick a pet ring on you so that you can replace her, lifting your tail to any passing male short-sighted enough to find you worth the effort!”
The smell: it had to be the smell. It was like an adrenaline rush that was almost giving her a high. Amy wanted to fight; she wanted to kill, and she wanted to do it now. The one problem (and true, it was only one tiny problem) was that the little voice of cold, reasonable logic kept sticking its hand up to point out that Amy was crap at fighting! True, she was an expert at watching vampire films, and she loved “Blood, the Last Vampire,” in both the anime and live-action versions, having watched it countless times (especially as it was marked adults only).
Saya was the sort of vampire Amy longed to be; well, apart from the name, which like Virgina meant, “sheath for a weapon.” Amy thought that it was no wonder she was a cold-blooded killer as her life must have been hell at school. Anyway, everyone knew from such films that anyone who turned into a vampire automatically had full Kung Fu skills as well as being a martial arts specialist with a samurai sword. The little difficulty with the standard story was that it was very slightly, or rather totally, wrong.
Okay, so as a vampire I expect that I may be a little stronger than most girls my age, as long as they are not called Buffy.
Amy thought she was normal: well, as normal as any vampire girl with claws, fangs and an urge to mutilate could be said to be normal. She would be fine fighting humans for a quick snack, but this thing was not a human. This was a female vampire that had all the same vampire bits of deadly weaponry that Amy had, along with the worrying possibility that she knew what to do with them!
Within seconds, Amy’s fears were proved correct, for as soon as she had finished speaking, the female somehow had crossed the distance, knocked Amy off her perch and pinned her to the ground. She was almost drooling as she painfully prodded Amy’s left breast with a finger.
“Now, wasn’t that easy? I think I will let you take the blame for the pet’s death. I don’t even like that blood group; it just gives me gas.”
As the creature laughed, saliva from her mouth dripped onto Amy’s face, bringing the smell of the female with it that made her want to puke.
“A pitiful creature like you thinking she can own a territory? Well, even if you did, I think it is mine now, as you are dead.”
Okay so the blabbing about territory rights had been a load of crap. Amy knew that; it had just sounded very vampire-ish when she said it.
Cind had been on the top of Amy’s list of people to keep safe, apart from herself, obviously, and her auntie, of course. She did not like the way Cind was looking far too at home here lying on the ground like she was dead. And why wasn’t her frigging ring doing something, like calling in the Cavalry? The rings were telepathic, so even Amy’s should have been sending out something like, “help needed ASAP, please!” and broadcasting it to her uncle.
Crap! Well, at least my Bilbo toy ring will do something to prove its use today, she thought, so she pulled it off, causing sparks to fly. Before the female vampire could do anything, Amy jammed it on the finger that was having so much intimate contact with her left boob that Amy was expecting them to send out wedding invites. As the ring slid onto her boob-prodding finger, the vamp just stared down in horror at it. Amy mentally commanded the ring to lock in place with a threat that if it did not, she would find hundreds of nasty ways of blowing its frigging magic circuits.
This bitch was pure vampire, and the toys were tuned into vampire minds. She had just been made an unwilling sex pet to Amy’s uncle, who would be receiving a horrendous headache as she attempted to pull it off. Uncle had said that no female would ever wear a pet ring, as it was so insulting. Amy had now gone well beyond telling this bitch that she had a big, fat butt; judging from the sparks lighting up the night, she looked to have the same problem that Amy had first had when trying to remove the ring.
Amy thought that her uncle should be on his way if it worked, not that it would help, as even at vampire speed she reasoned that she would be long dead before her uncle arrived. Just to prove her right, the creature gave up on the ring and pinned Amy down, and as she was a lot stronger that Amy was, it was a simple task. She extended a lot of sharp teeth; she has me.
A-Me
Just where she wanted her; how dare she think of taking over her territory without a fight! She had her very own male that did not smell of other females. She owned a wide hunting territory full of game, and she had tricked this runt of the litter into thinking she had so easily beaten her. This was going to be so much fun!
Grave Mistake
Amy felt herself being pushed aside in her own head as another moved forward, and she was no longer in control of her body. Her legs curled up under a different mistress control in a move more useful to a cat than any Kung Fu hero, as very few Kung Fu heroes were so lucky as to have claws on their feet.
A-Me
She raked the whole of the body above her, cutting deep into the stomach and down the legs, the claws on her hands holding tight to the upper body so that it could not escape from the damage being done below her waist. In her mind, she could see moving pictures of vampires fighting with bits of wood, and it would have been so easy to reproduce their movements, but why bother? Her own moves were so much move effective than those in the pretty pictures.
She let go, and the runt foolishly stepped backwards, leaving her a clear strike at the legs, which she did and was happy to hear a snap from one of them. True, it would heal, but before then she would no longer be alive to learn to walk again, as the opponent now fell to the ground due to a lack of legs. The female that earlier had the name of Amy leaped high above the defeated runt of a female, almost weightless, then dropped down on her at full density, which produced a long scream of pain and a disconnected left shoulder from the body now lying flat below her. All she had to do now was crush her head and urinate over her, leaving the body to rot in the light to warn others entering this area that it was her territory, but the air had suddenly changed. Males were nearby!
She did a back somersault, which placed her between two large blocks of stone; not the safest of hideouts, but any male entering uninvited after her would lose an eye. Her strength could not match a fully grown male, but she was already owned, so her body was not hers. She would not raise her tail to another unless he replaced her mate in combat. She smelled the air and relaxed a little. The scent of her own male meant he was also nearby, so combat would give the outcome of who she would next mate with. A large male dropped to th
e ground where the meat the runt had killed lay, and he looked at it. His smell was very strong, and from it she knew he was very powerful. He was not alone as he led a pack of four others: all powerful males in their own right.
Then her own male appeared, walked over to where she hid, and stood facing the large dominant male. An underlying smell could now be made out by her, and that said that these males were kin to her own male, so she relaxed and moved out to crouch between her male’s legs in case any of the other males mistook her as available.
Valerius (A very Alpha male)
The large alpha male looked down at his late pet lying dead at his feet. She had been enjoyable and so very soft compared with females of his own kind. He knew females said it was a perversion to have pets, but all males did it. So long as you did not take them home, very few mates cared what their partners did away from the nest.
He pointed to the fallen female, and one of the males went over to taste her blood. She objected and tried to move away, so he struck her then sank his fangs deep into her neck. When he was finished, he let her fall back to the ground. As she lay there, he roughly tore at her clothing, looking for signs of ownership, then he left her where she had fallen and reported his findings.
