by Amy Mah
The ending class of the day had been fun, with only one person getting badly hurt, which was partly due from failing to land in the proper dignified vampire style when leaping down an air shaft but mostly from landing on Muris: a mistake that turned out to be extremely painful. Amy wondered if they should send him a get-well card, and she knew he would not have had so many broken bones if he had hit the ground and not the teacher.
Vampires couldn’t fly, but true to the movies, they could jump down off buildings without hurting themselves. This lesson so reminded Amy of the start of the movie Underworld where Selene, in a long black leather coat, steps off a tall building to land unharmed on the street far below.
Unlike when she first watched the movie, Amy now knew why the long leather coat was so important: the same reason why vampires were always pictured in long cloaks or flowing nightdresses. You used them to glide through the air and for the famous vampire visual effect of dropping in out of thin air. They also prevented you from failing to make the correct dramatic arrival by finding yourself stuck in a tree.
Dropping from heights took practice; the whole class used nest air vents to drop down. If you reduced your body mass too much, you got blown away; too little, and you get killed by saying hello to the ground at a speed that was not healthy, so the use of the trademark vampire clothing was to help you glide down to the ground in a dignified, elegant and safe way. Okay if you were good at it, you could do it in shorts and a t-shirt, but it did not have the same style.
In the locker room at the end of the day, Amy slowly changed back from her school uniform to the nest standard nightdress. The home-redesigned school uniforms the other girls now wore as a declaration of vampire individuality fell into a fashion statement of something between St. Trillions High and Halloween at a strip club.
Luckily, Bambi was good with a needle and thread, and she made suitable changes in Amy’s uniform that made her now look something like a short-skirted Japanese anime school girl. And as with everything, if it was mostly black, it was okay in the vampire world, for in vampire fashion, black was always the new black.
Not that wearing a skirt that barely covered more than a belt mattered, as all females had to wear semi-transparent nightdresses everywhere in the public areas of the nest no matter how stupid or indecent it looked. A skirt so short it would show off your panties each time you moved was almost preferred over dressing by traditional female vampire standards.
The unaltered school uniform was just like any school uniform. The only people it looked good on or even fit well were the models wearing it in the school application brochures, and everyone knew schools always hired kids in the photos to fit the uniform.
It was Bambi’s day off, so some exploring of other levels could be done on the way home. Amy planned on making the most of the little freedom she had.
Amy was a branded female, so she was entitled to leave her nest level and go exploring. She had tried to explore before with little success, as each time she had tried, some house famula or other would suddenly appear and gently cough in a way that meant she did not want to tell her aunt what she planned on doing but she would if she left without her aunt’s permission.
Famula were turned humans, and no matter how hard or illegal it was to turn a human, it looked like plenty of vampires broke the rules as there were a lot of famula about. Most had been pet meat that had gotten their wishes and now lived forever as young women. The only downside was that they would also forever be servants.
It was easy to tell the difference; apart from the neutral smell, the most obvious thing was the fangs. Famula had Hollywood film-style, sharp eye teeth when they smiled, whereas females had fangs that when extended came under wildlife headings of now-extinct sabre toothed piranha. True, a famula was strong and could stick her teeth into a human neck and suck blood, but, well, females could remove a head and use the neck as a straw!
The famula maids were always polite and never spoke unless spoken to. Bambi would drink lots of very hot water before coming to bed so she would be warm to sleep with, and well, you did not think of the maids as the undead killing machines that they would fast become if left to fend for themselves in the human world. They also had a dead meat smell to them, which was nice compared to the smell of other females; that was sweet and sickly and made you want to kill them on sight. Everyday would have been a massacre if it had not been for the nest rules.
School uniform after being up-dated by Bambi
Females in the vampire world were not known for being nice, and some had the bad habit of killing maids if they were hungry or in a bit of a strop. Maids got around this by trying to be invisible, and a personal handmaid often tried to sleep with her mistress so she would have her mistress’s smell on her.
It came as a real shock to Amy when she was exploring the public area three levels up; she was pounced on by a maid who ran towards her screaming and threw her arms around in a bear hug.
Amy tried to get free of what was mostly a mountain of boobs, which were currently trying to take out her eyes. Staring up to see to whom the abundant mammary glands belonged, she was amazed to discover it was Clary!
Oh, crap! Amy thought. I had forgotten all about her! Yes, I know that is bad, but heck! Time is odd here, and well, I am still trying to work out what part of the Luna month is gibbous without thinking of years with odd names and long numbers attached to them. Okay, so I am a crappy friend, but even if she looks the same, it must have been years since she was killed in front of me.
“Clary! It’s so good to see you! I have been so worried since that night you …err…died.”
At the same time, Amy was trying to work out a tactful way of telling her that her left boob had escaped from her-ok, it was a nightdress, but one that would normally be in magazines under the title of adventurous nightwear. It was bobbing up and down with excitement but not in sync with the other one or any other part of her body,
“Clary, I think something has escaped.”
She giggled and tucked it back in.
“Oh, Amy, that is so always happening to me! Oh no, I didn’t die! I was just unconscious. If it had not been for you demanding I be turned, I would still be human. But where are my manners; you are a mistress! I should be offering you something; would you like to bite me?”
“Thank you, but I have already eaten.”
With regards to her speech, Amy thought Clary had always been a natural vampire, as she had monologued since she had first met her (but perhaps no one had told her that maids don’t monologue or even say anything that could be classified as a conversation). Then again, with Clary it would have been likely that they would have given up while waiting to get a word in.
“Or we can have sex; well, I know what you mistresses are like. You may have to do most of the work, but I am very willing. I have attended all the classes (several of them five or six times), and they do say I am improving. But I can’t stop laughing if another girl tries to kiss me! Well, it is so funny, and I am so ticklish. Now, when it comes to guys-err, sorry-males. Now that is another matter, and I don’t need classes for that. Unlike my still-human sisters, I have a perfect ass and an even more permanently perfect bust that will still pass the pencil test 100 years from now. Of course, I had time to have my hair done all over and get a full body treatment before I was turned.”
“I love it here! Not that I have spent much time in the nest: I have now been on 347 external courses, and as soon as I get back, they find me another one to go on. They are so good to me: hardly any work at all (not that work is anything). We don’t have to sleep; unless we are personal maids, we party when you full-bloods sleep. There are shopping trips out to the human world, and of course, there is the entertainment. We have seven floors set aside for maid use only: things like health spas, gyms, cinemas showing all the latest movies from around the world, casinos. And as for the nightclubs, they are simply out of this world!”
Amy suddenly lost all thoughts of worry over the idea of po
or downtrodden maids and wondered if it was too late to ask to become one herself. Because they were undead, the maids always had plenty of energy, and not having to breathe meant that turned humans like Clary did not need to stop to take a breath when having a single-sided conversation.
“Like, it normally takes forever to get past being a general maid, but I am so lucky. There is this male they have found who is in need of a personal maid (if you know what I mean), and he is part horse in just the right place for a guy to be part horse.”
Amy did not mind the wink and dig in the ribs when she was talking about this lucky guy, but just to make sure Amy fully understood which part of a horse she was talking about, Clary used her hands to demonstrate dimensions and location.
“Dusting? Ha! I am never out of bed long enough to have time to dust. I am sure he is looked down upon in vampire society due to his, well, other deformity (not the horse part, but the fact that he is deaf). You know how vampires want everyone perfect or culled? Not that it matters for me, as most of our communication is done with touch…sigh.”
“And well, you know me; I hardly talk at the best of times: as quiet as a mouse is what I am, so talking is no big deal. Thank you so much for keeping your word about me being the first in the group to be turned! I heard all about how you faced the overlord and demanded I be turned. Still living and turned! Wow! I am so lucky to have you as a friend. No one speaks to the overlord like that! He is, well, like a-but you know what I mean………”
It had taken years for her uncle to stop talking to her as if she were in a classroom, and now Amy was pinned to the wall while the closest thing she had left of a friend from her human life had started a conversation by offering sex, then matter-of-factly told her that she had been killed at Amy’s request. Then Clary carried on talking for a further four hours non-stop; at the end, when she could finally get away, Amy knew lots of new things about how the nest worked, along with one overwhelming personal need, which was to find a washroom before she created a puddle on the floor.
He’s Cute er..?
Fine out more?
then read on..
Chapter 15
The Great Excape
Amy planned to dress as famula and escape just before dawn, and as plans go, it sounded far better in the planning stage than it did in the actual execution stage. The knowledge she had obtained from the accidental meeting with Clary meant she now knew how the nest worked from a maid’s point of view.
Plans had been made; the maid’s nightdress was packed in a backpack on top of her human clothes that could be warn outside, plus a pair of old trainers, as maids went barefooted. Amy did not know what time of year it was, but jeans and a tank top were the best she could fit in along with her laptop and phone, which by now may have been worth something as antiques.
No one had said that that the famula were not allowed to use the elevators. Even with all her boot camp training, she felt totally crappy after spending hours climbing stairs. And as for being able to run away, she now hoped that she would still have some energy to flag down a cab.
Amy gave up after 50 floors and changed back into her more decent “lady-of-quality nightdress”; well, that was it what it said on the label. She was sweating so much that it was pointless trying to pretend to be other than what she was: the first point being that maids did not sweat as they were undead. Second, with all the climbing, she must be giving off such a stink as to explain the reason why she did not see anyone else on the servant staircase. Back again dressed as a Lady (or rather, a now-smelly female vampire) an elevator was now available to her, and she was able to travel to ground level.
A famula noticed a female carrying her own bag and came up to Amy, insisting that she take the bag and carry it for her. The famula looked very pleased to follow her, but she knew that the famula would think it very strange if she walked all 200 plus floors up. Vampires could be eccentric but not mad. The elevators were odd, and she had only ever used them twice (and never alone). They did not have doors, and famula operated the controls. Famula could never use them on their own (Amy was not even sure she was allowed). She stepped into the elevator, and the famula following her, handed her the bag, and bowed, as she clearly could not leave her floor without permission. Amy was not sure if she should even thank her, so she nodded a thank you, and the famula happily went on her way. The operator asked what floor she wanted.
It was common knowledge that human male pets guarded the entrances to the ground level of the multi-story building she had now emerged into, remembering that this was the only way in and out of the nest from the “blooding:” the time she had gone out with her uncle to make her first so-called kill and feeding (or in her case, what was known in the family as her first massacre).
The humans with their poor sense of smell would not be able to tell the difference between real vampires and turnlings, so Amy changed again back into the maid’s clothing. Carrying the backpack as if she was going to deliver it to someone, she made her way to the exit only to find she was turned back, as maids could not leave the building without permission. She could not leave as a lady without permission, either, and she knew that there was no way could she ever pass as a male even if she could find a suit and cloak to fit her.
The problem was overcome due to her weeks of climbing lessons; a skill she had mastered was ceiling walking, so she put the backpack back on and climbed a wall. Amy slowly made her way along the ceiling over the guard’s heads. Once outside, she gave a sigh of relief and looked around.
Well, she was outside, but not quite where she wanted to be as she must have left the building on the other end. She now stood on the edge of either a very untidy garden or a forest, not that it mattered. With her speed, she could cross it and be away very quickly. In the distance, she could see something that looked like a cross between a large garden shed or a small wooden shack, and it looked like the perfect place to change and wait for the sun to rise so that she could make her way under the safety of sunlight.
Everything was going well. She carefully checked to make sure it was empty before entering the shed. The Velcro on the cheap famula nightdress gave away with a satisfying ripping noise. Amy opened the bag, took out her treasured, old human clothing, and started to get dressed. At long last, she would be able to feel normal again! Daylight would slow them down in trying to catch her, as she planned to move as fast as vampirely possible and then hide within the city: any city. As the city came awake, she would just blend in with the meat; no one would be able to find her. She didn’t know the next move fully, but she would work it out.
Standing barefooted and wearing nothing but a pair of panties, she stared out of a large window carefully, searching the shadows for any movement. Finding none, she breathed out in satisfaction as she watched the sky slowly lighten, heralding a change in color and preparing the world for a new day and herself for freedom.
Just then, her heart stopped as she heard someone breathe in then exhale loudly.
“Unless you wish to run naked in the woods after showing off all your female splendor along with your no doubt fascinating family brand to this very interested male, it may be best to stop the striptease act before I am torn as to where to look first.”
Grabbing up her jeans as a modesty shield before turning around, she saw him, a young-looking male: tall at about 5’ 10”. He looked maybe 17ish on the human age scale, and he was standing with his arms folded just looking at her. Darn! Amy thought. Why did everyone move so quietly? She knew he had to really be as young as he looked due to the little changes he had made to the male uniform, like the buttons on his waistcoat changing color and the headphones sticking out of a pocket. His cloak also had a stitched-on hoodie, but there were rules, and all vampires had to follow the rules. Amy dropped back down with the best subordinate curtsy bow she had ever done and waited.
“Oh, crap, will you please stop doing that! It so makes me sick. If you want to do something to please me (now that I have seen most of your b
ody), how about showing me your fangs?”
That was not the sort of reply her aunt had told her to expect. Everything was done by very strict, polite rules: lots and lots of rules, as most vampires hated each other. The strict and formal rules that governed most of a vampire’s life protected weaker vampires, such as females. She hated the rules in the same way other vampires hated each other, but she reluctantly knew she had to follow them if she wanted to be safe.
Now, this male was not doing what he should do, and that was to beckon her to stand up before she fell over.
“That would be rude! Females should not show their fangs to males. it is very rude, as you well know: almost as rude as a male forgetting to ask the female to stand. And if the male in front of me doesn’t ask me to stand soon, I’m going to bloody well fall over! Err…My Lord Male, or whatever the title is for male perverts wanting to see a girl’s fangs!”
He laughed, made a very elegant bow and signalled for her to stand. The laughter was musical, and she did not know how males did it. Her aunt said it was something to do with sound frequency and vocal cords.
“But I like seeing a girl’s fangs! Dad says it’s called a fetish, whatever that means, and that I will grow out of it. I would have thought it should be less rude than asking you to stick your butt in the air so I can check for ownership.”
“Err …Okay, out of the two, I think I would prefer to show you my fangs, but please don’t tell my aunt or I will get into trouble for being rude to a male, even a perverted male!”
Amy didn’t care if he saw her fangs; they were good fangs, and she not only brushed them three times a day but she also polished them. It was one of the few things she did that made her aunt happy. Her aunt thought it was for pride in her appearance, but in reality, she was hooked on the taste of the cleaning gel. As a child, she had always eaten toothpaste directly from the tube, but the cleaning gel was ten times better. As long as she only polished twice a day, her aunt did not get suspicious.
