With each full moon, Little Fox’s lust for blood grew stronger. Her thirst couldn’t be satisfied with chicken blood. She needed more – much, much more.
When the next full moon expelled the sun’s rays, Lucien took his Little Fox to The Busson farm where, strangely enough, she knew a pig was about to be slaughtered.
Lucien asked local war hero, Jean Busson a special favor.
The farmer gave the boy a worried look but allowed the favor, pocketing an extra twenty Francs for his trouble.
She stood, fidgeting with excitement, while Lucien slit the pig’s throat with a demonic chuckle. The hot blood gushed into a wooden barrel.
Lucien gave a wry smile, noticing the curious looks Busson gave them. He handed the bloody knife back to the farmer and left with the bucket of blood.
The youngsters raced off with their prize to the nearest hiding place in nearby woods where she gorged herself on the cooling liquid.
She kissed him.
He much preferred this blood to chickens. It had a more rounded flavor, no tangy aftertaste and the rusty taint was far less discernible. It was glorious. It came close to the plumy taste of a young Chateau Dupont which Lucien let her drink as often as she liked.
But many times over the following years and during other stages of the moon, young Lucien tried to force his Delicate Rose to drink blood to placate his unbridled lust, only to see her run away with disgust clearly written across her innocent beauty.
The Count strongly urged, “Show her what a man you are. Force her to reveal her true vampire name. I cannot utter the name ... you must discover this for yourself.”
But Lucien could not bring himself to harm her. “Why won’t she give her vampire name to me? Am I not her true love?” He cried to himself.
The Count sneered at the weakling.
One terrible day, nineteen-year-old Lucien listened to his mother threatening Little Fox with a visit to Father Papineau for she must be possessed. She made good her threat.
The next day, after sunset, Mother took a struggling Little Fox to the church in Douvrey.
Lucien followed them across fields, hiding behind hedgerows. He reveled in the power of the predator on the hunt.
On reaching the church Little Fox screamed, fit to burst her lungs, refusing to step foot inside.
The holy one rushed from his sanctuary to discover what the commotion was all about. The priest gave the girl a worried look of fearful recognition and only broke free from her gaze when he entered his church with Lucien’s mother.
Lucien rushed to his Little Fox and hugged her. Her music filled him with desire.
She giggled and said, “Be still Lucien so I might listen to them.”
Lucien stood speechless while she relayed what went on inside the church. Nothing was left out, not even the priest’s thoughts.
“She’s telling the holy one about my need to drink blood on the full moon. He’s extremely worried. Now she’s saying you are responsible ... you have contaminated me with your lust. The holy one thinks your mother is insane.” She giggled then gasped. “Now the holy one believes I am a vile minion of the dark one, crossed over to this world to wreak havoc on his flock. He thinks of me as an abomination. He remembers my Eternal birth.” She cried out, “I am Eternal!”
Lucien went rigid when The Count rejoiced. She had given her true vampire name – Eternal. He loved that word with all his black heart.
Eternal spoke, “Your mother says I am not normal. I don’t bleed only take blood. The holy one is thinking of telling his superiors.” She sighed and relaxed. “He can’t do that. He would have to explain my birth, his dirty little secret.”
Lucien wanted to enter the church and kill that meddling old fool but Eternal stopped him with a dark look from jet-black eyes.
A wicked smile transformed Eternal’s face into something much more sinister. “I know your secret, Lucien. You won’t harm me.” Her devious grin changed to panic. “They’re coming! Leave now!”
The church door squealed open and Lucien ran for all he was worth. His mind raced faster than his feet carried him home. Eternal was far more powerful than he had ever thought. Even worse, she knew how The Count felt about her and what he wanted to do to her. Lucien’s fractured mind shattered to a thousand bloody pieces of uncertainty and delusion. He had to do something to stop her from running away.
That fateful night, his mother finally confronted her husband for his whoring ways.
The Count ordered Lucien to strip naked. This he did.
Lucien stood, calmly watching his father gripping his mother by the throat. He so wanted to help but was transfixed by the massive field revolver now aimed at his father.
The Count spoke, “You know what to do. Always wait until the time is right.”
Lucien smiled wickedly then a great darkness overcame him and everything went blank with the sound of three gunshots.
The Count told Lucien what to do. “Wash their blood from your skin and hide the gun,” The Count ordered.
The police believed Lucien’s story that a burglar broke in and killed his parents. They even arrested some deranged lunatic for the murders.
Lucien was free to do as he pleased! And it pleased his darkened heart to imprison sixteen-year-old Eternal in The Great North Turret of the chateau to prevent her escape.
The Count told him, “You must wait three more years before the eternal moon’s return. Then you will drink her blood and become Eternal.”
During every full moon Lucien and the whip his father used to beat his horse would pay her a visit. He opened the oak door to the turret room and relished her terror. Shackled to the damp stone wall was his beloved Delicate Rose curled up on a bed of straw, emaciated and weak. He uncoiled the whip and used it upon her white flesh. She backed away only to strain against the chain. He tossed her a bottle of pig’s blood and left her to whimper like a child. He never dared touch her once in all this time for he knew her power would overwhelm him.
But Lucien’s patience wore too thin. Paris soon beckoned to him where his penchant for blood would go unnoticed. He sold his property to some unknown artist and her husband and bundled his emaciated true love into the black Mercedes Edwardian Tourer, with hands tied behind her back, and drove off for the metropolis.
Chapter 27
5th June
Trapped within the bowels of the asylum, Eternal moaned in her disturbed sleep where frightening visions of her childhood cursed her. She was back in that dreadful prison in the North Turret.
She looked around the circular room of damp stone. All she had for comfort was the moon piercing the thin slit window and a bed of straw. Hunger had weakened her to a frail state and death was so close she could reach out and touch its leering face.
Something drifted from the shadows. It loomed with intent.
She felt suffocated, a great pressure crushing her throat. Her eyes flew open. A dark presence hovered above her. She gasped in utter terror. Its feral eyes glowed red with a burning hatred she knew only too well. The Count was seeking out her location!
She summoned her music but this time nothing could save her. Her mouth flew open to scream. No sound came from her. She begged the door to open and save her. It remained locked. She struggled to get free of the overpowering stench, sickly and cloying, sucking the air from her lungs. She scurried across the bed of straw to be close to the window. The stinking black specter laughed. She tried to get up but the demonic Count forced its black torment upon her and gripped her slender throat with smoky fingers. Her exposed neck attracted its long fangs. It hissed with pleasure. It spoke.
“I am Eternal!” The Count pounced with black fangs.
Damn him to Oblivion. Her desperate mind traveled back to her eternal death to confuse him of her whereabouts. The room transformed. Wearing a magnificent gown fit for a queen, Eternal drifted through a garden stocked with red roses that stretched to the horizon. Ahead of her was Marie Antoinette, now completely addicted to Eternal’s
muse and totally insane.
Eternal plucked a deep red rose but its thorns pricked her skin. She gasped at the sight of her blood.
Marie Antoinette ordered, “Hold her.”
Eternal tried to escape. She called out, “Edouard, my true love.” It was too late. Palace guards gripped Eternal tight so the Queen could suck the blood oozing from her palm.
Emaciated and bled almost dry, Eternal was dragged in chains up the steps to Madame Guillotine. She screamed at the head of her true love tossed to the jeering crowds. She glared with hatred at The Count in the guise of Robespierre, “We will meet again and you will suffer an agonizing death.”
The Count laughed with derision and superiority, “You dance with the Devil ... you sleep with the Devil.”
Prostrate beneath the guillotine Eternal screamed when the blade kissed her neck casting her into Oblivion.
But the never-ending nightmare continued for Eternal, reliving her past lives. The Count coalesced into Mordred, the Black Knight. He chased Guinevere’s handmaiden through dark woods upon his demonic horse.
With every ounce of strength, Eternal the handmaiden recalled her true love as he once was – Lancelot du Lac, noble, strong and true of heart.
Eternal opened her eyes wide and looked around her prison within the asylum. “Edouard, save me and we will be Eternal!” she cried out.
Chapter 28
Bathed in her pearlessence The Eternal Moon,
The Mistress of the night took her infinite wisdom.
As the blood fire did surge with promises so soon,
Eternal shall reign supreme in the dark kingdom.
5th June
Eternal’s screams for help carved a cavern of despair in Edouard’s pounding heart. Rushing from Henri’s private quarters, he skipped several steps and crashed into the locked door at the bottom of the stairs. A moan of impatience escaped him, his frantic fingers searching pockets for the key. With trembling hands he fumbled the key at the door lock. He dropped the key. “Merde!” He snatched it and tried again. “Baise!” It wouldn’t fit. “Ah.” It slipped home and unlocked the damned door.
The moment he entered the sunny corridor his desperation to save Eternal hit a wall of screeching ravens. Her music branded its haunting melody into his mind.
A choking, unfathomable fear strangled his breath. His legs became so heavy he had difficulty walking. He sensed a presence of pure evil. Its stench of death engulfed him in a cloak of putrid suffocation and the singular intention of sending another soul to the grim reaper sent terror into his mind. The murderous intent lanced him like claws raking his flesh. The need to breathe overcame him in a rush of panic.
Eternal’s voice rang clear in his fevered mind, becalming him, strengthening his resolve, “Oh brave knight, true and bold, protect me with your love.” Her words flooded him with purpose, empowering him with courage, honor and the need to protect his true love, once more as Lancelot du Lac.
To his horror and amazement he heard the clanking of armor. In his hand was a broadsword, heavy and clumsy, dragging his arm almost to the floor – of a forest! His vision was limited by thin slits in front of his eyes. And what he saw was impossible. The sunlight quickly faded to be replaced by the full moon – The Eternal Moon. He saw a hideous creature of swirling black smoke and glowing eyes charging at him on a black horse of demonic design.
He hefted the massive sword and marched at the charging Black Knight. Too late! The strike of the lance knocked him to the forest floor. With difficulty he struggled to his feet, battling the ungainly weight of the armor. A great pain cramped his chest. The Black Knight circled, laughing with derision and charged once more.
Using his instinct of ages past, Edouard swung the sword into the advancing beast, slicing straight through. The Black Knight crashed to the floor with a clatter of armor. It sprang to its feet and slashed with a black sword, a demon’s blade. Edouard’s sword of valiant silver clashed with the black, corrupt steel showering the ground with sparks and thick, acrid smoke. He forced the Black Knight back with each thrust.
It spoke with a deep growl, “I am not finished with you, lover boy.”
Edouard froze for a heartbeat in time, recalling similar words spoken by Him.
In the blink of an eye the sun once more filled the corridor and her sweet lullaby abruptly ceased. Edouard clutched his chest, had he been hallucinating? In the time it took for another painful beat of his heart to thump within his heaving body, all seemed normal again. At his feet was his tie, he must have removed it to breathe.
With a huge intake of air, he bent down and picked it up, stuffing it into his hospital gown. He swiped the sweat of fear from his brow. His legs moved of their own will, an overwhelming dread of ice cold terror gripping him. He halted outside her room and could not sense her. Where was her music?
In his desperation, Edouard pounded the door. He heard a sneer of contempt and turned to stare into Nurse Marteau’s hateful glare. “Don’t just stand there ... open the door.” His longing for Eternal to fill his mind with her insistent music left a pit of emptiness where his heart dwelled. Silence so profound crushed his soul. He slumped against the door and exhaled his misery. Get a grip.
“Move it, damn you.” He stared at the nurse’s seeming refusal to open the door. Was she taunting him with her deliberate hesitation? He slid back the bolt and twisted the handle to no avail.
When Nurse Marteau unlocked the door, he heard a sound like the soft fluttering of ravens. He listened to her sweet lullaby, a gentle wind through a field of roses to suffocate his senses. He stood as rigid as a knight in armor awaiting his destiny.
With a murderous glare of hatred the nurse stepped away.
Edouard faltered, his heart trying to rip from his chest. The alluring music dissolved to a bleak nothingness. He placed a tentative hand to the handle.
Eternal sat upon her bed with her knees up to her chin, gently rocking back and forth, muttering, “I am Eternal ... I am Eternal.”
She had prevented The Count from discovering her. With relief she dared to part the blanket covering the window but the searing light was too intense. Her anguish was immediate, clamping tearful eyes shut. The hideous daylight offered a fresh start to her terrors, empowering Eternal to subjugate her weaker half. She had to bury Delicate Rose deep in her dream world or surely perish in this evil place.
She stared wide-eyed with terror around the tiny prison-like room and wondered what was going to happen to her today. A jolt of stinging pain reminded her to pull the blanket shut. Wiping tears of anger from her eyes, she curled up into her favored fetal position and stared blankly at the door. That was the only way out. She cocked her head and frowned at a familiar scraping sound.
Eternal jolted, transfixed by the peephole revealing a green eye. Something deep in her subconscious told her the eye belonged to her savior. It vanished when the metal shutter was slid into place. The door opened and her true love, slightly flushed, entered the room, wearing a white hospital gown. She sighed with relief.
Edouard stepped into a vacuum of eternal love. He went rigid with shock for the patient was indeed the woman of his dreams. This beguiling woman was connected to him by fate welding their souls together. He breathed deeply to calm his jangled nerves but it was of no use.
The patient seemed oblivious to his presence, almost staring right through him with her wondrous black eyes. And that music filled his soul to bursting. He had a strong desire to take her from this place at that very moment.
She began to chant monotonously, “Eternal ... Eternal ... Eternal ... Eternal.”
Edouard scrambled out his notebook, put on his reading glasses with trembling fingers and used a pencil to jot down some notes – “disinterested activity – habitual chanting clearly displaying psychological automatism – performance of unconscious acts”.
He approached her, treading on eggshells. She appeared so fragile, more delicate than a butterfly’s wing. He had to be careful.
&nb
sp; The exquisite rendering of beauty before him remained staring at the open door with such intensity, Edouard looked behind him. All he saw was Nurse Marteau.
The patient screamed, “He’s coming.” She scrambled across the bed. “He’s so close ... he’ll take my blood.” She looked all around in a terrible state of panic.
Edouard visibly jumped, startled by her outburst.
Cruel, taunting sniggers came from Nurse Marteau.
Edouard turned sharply and shut her up with a harsh glare. Returning his attention to the patient, he noticed with alarm, utter terror etched across her face. He must leave – take her somewhere safe, hidden from this faceless menace he had come to know as The Count. The urge to flee with her overwhelmed him. Perhaps it was his destiny to run from this fiend.
Edouard stepped out of the room and spoke in harsh whispers to Nurse Marteau, in the hope she would leave them alone. He returned, closing the door behind him. The sound of the bolt sliding home indicated his means of escape had gone. With a miserable gasp, he turned back to see the petrified woman staring at him with those wondrous eyes, darkly ringed with lack of sleep or perhaps fear.
Edouard leaned down directly in front of her and observed her fixation on the door with frantic eyes. Waving a hand across her face, he shared her need to escape this tiny prison. He loosened his shirt about his neck, breathing deeply to quell the dread slowly eating away his composure.
She did not blink or flinch when Edouard clapped his hands in front of her face.
He grunted with recognition and jotted in his notebook – “completely trance-like – traumatized – dissociative behavior”.
He gently pulled her left arm from her knee and tested the pulse at her wrist, frowning with a tingling sensation. Her pulse was not normal at twenty beats a minute. In her heightened state of anxiety and stress, her heart should be racing out of control. For that matter, no one’s heart should beat that slowly. This woman was indeed special in some way – Eternal.
Edouard replaced her arm at her side.
Her hand clasped her knee. She mumbled something repetitively.
Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance Page 29
