Children of Dionysus (Always Dark Angel Book 1)

by JN Moon

  Sigurd laughed; he laughed a lot. And not due to cruel intentions or abject debauchery. He had honour, integrity. He taught me how to feed on the evil with compassion. His mind was sharp and his heart still held a glimmer of humanity within it. He had, I think, been a warrior a long, long time ago. His principles and humility had stood the test of time. A true warrior with a powerful disposition. Just what I needed—a conscientious vampire not caught up in the empty trappings of bloodlust and sex.

  I asked Sigurd what he thought about my crimes. For some reason, I felt compelled and even safe pouring out all the wrongs I had done. I supposed as I respected him, I was hoping he’d grant me absolution or death. Either was preferable to my still vulnerable human/ vampire mind. I had hoped it would enrage him and he would kindly oblige to end my confusing life.

  “Anthony, in my youth I killed many men whether it was for war or whatever reason. What is the difference? To kill, to take a life, to feel the power of wielding death upon another. What I learnt is this; it's how you live afterwards. You cannot undo what is done, and though, yes, you have hurt people, killed innocents, it is what you do next that matters most now. How you live your new life.” His voice, robust and commanding, but not forceful, comforted my soul.

  “And these innocent people, not so innocent, I think? Looking for sex, drugs, excitement? Let me tell you, Anthony, I have existed a long, long time. I tell you this; there are always people willing to tread into the dark corners of existence. To experience illicit pleasures, horrors, and deviance. You acted according to your base nature. It is quite normal for a new vampire; it is exciting and new. You could hardly have helped yourself. Your survival instinct is too strong. Those people were already lost, already dead inside when you found them. Their soul has long since been forgotten. The others you were with no doubt chose you for this. It is akin to a teenager finding their freedom for the first time. Now you can be so much more, and I don't mean here. You have to find your path. You have so much potential.”

  Then Sigurd laughed his deep warm laugh, and wrapped his arms around me and we slept, wrapped in each other's companionship as brothers in arms.

  Sigurd had a lover, a human woman. It was some time before he allowed me to meet her. She was feisty just like him and laughed a great deal. She was beautiful and strong and playful, and I noticed that Sigurd never fed on her. To hear them together would wake the dead, and on those nights, I would wander the streets for many, many hours.

  Her name was Tanya and she looked an English rose, though didn't act one. I liked her; she made me feel good about myself, always taking time for me.

  And there I stayed for a while, learning to live again but without cruelty, debauchery. On occasion, he would disappear for a few nights and days, staying with his lover. I didn't know what she did for a living or where she lived, and I would never have presumed to ask. But we three were happy, and I absorbed the teachings, the warmth, and the love. It was like some dark medieval fairy tale. I poured out my anger in safety, after being plunged into this bloody existence which was not my choosing and the yearnings I held for my mortal life, my human lover, my friends.

  His compassion and knowledge were soothing and in some ways, I felt relief in my tortured soul.

  When the time came and I knew I had to leave, I also knew I would have to find them again in the future. But I was curious, I had to ask... “Sigurd, will you turn Tanya? You're so happy together. Or will you watch her grow old?”

  “Tanya doesn't want it, Anthony, she likes the freedom and choice of being human. I wouldn't want to condemn her to this life, but if she asked and was sincere, I would happily do it. It would be selfish really, but I love her like no other and I would move Hell and high water just to be with her. So, I can only hope.”

  “Then I hope she does choose it, Sigurd, for you both.”

  “So, you're leaving to find your fate? Be careful, Anthony, there's a war out there.” As he spoke, his lips tight and eyes small, warning me. He gestured, “Many vampires have gone missing and those that are found are neither vampire nor human, but wretched soulless beasts. I have seen things, not here but further off.” And then he raised his voice, I had never heard him speak so seriously and with such authority. “Be sure to watch your back. You will always have a place here, a family, but out there, trust no one, understand? Tell no one of our meetings, or be sure I'll find you. Know I would die for my woman, so I value her safety above all else.”

  “Yes, I understand, Sigurd. I'll come back. And I'll be vigilant.”

  And so, ended like all things my tranquil time with my mentor and friend, and his lover. I could've stayed there forever, but I knew I had to find Tom and Josephine if they were still out there. And as Sigurd said, find my own destiny.

  Dissolute Torture

  Anthony

  A calmness and serenity settled into me. Acceptance of myself; this creature. I would indeed feast on human blood, and forgive me, but this is my nature and not my will or choosing.

  And so, I left to find my friends. But what I found took me to Heaven, then Hell.

  I started searching, feeding on the less desirable beings and scanning bars and clubs. Though now I had the hindsight from Sigurd, it almost gave me permission to live out my natural desires, instincts. I took from the debauched, from those willing to surrender their soul and body to me, their blood. I stole from them what I needed with less shame than before. Then I came upon a clandestine group of vampires.

  They asked me to join them for the night and although I had promised Sigurd I would be vigilant, their allure was too strong for me to pass up.

  They were exquisite. They stood out amongst the mortals, and their leader, a curvaceous woman with emerald eyes and strawberry-blonde hair, enticed me into her.

  “Come with us tonight. I want you and you in turn, can drink from me.” Louisa whispered to me, her face against mine, lips brushing my face and her cool body pressed against me. It was cold, yet her clothing exposed much flesh, pale and luminous.

  The others smiled as she ran her hand up my thigh. They didn't seem to care that we were in a club. My mouth went dry as her lips touched my face and as her hand traced my leg, my body trembled in excitement.

  She led me outside to a darker place not far.

  People were close by, yet she had no inhabitations. Running her hands down my body, she unzipped my trousers. “I want you,” she murmured. So, I bathed in erotic shame, and all that I had learnt was lost then as I felt her, inhaled her. As I took her, she fed on my neck, sucking hard as the intensity of our lust grew. Swaying, I opened my eyes as she pulled away and put her wrist to my mouth.

  I indulged myself in these strange women. Paradise was mine. Closing my eyes ecstasy took me over. And no guilt, no shame, just pure hedonism. I had no urge to open my eyes and I trembled with passion. I felt like I was falling into a trance of orgasmic sensation. I felt like I wasn’t there anymore but somewhere else, with these vixens seducing my every desire.

  Somewhere I had lost consciousness because I awoke with my hands chained above me and excruciating pain raging through me. Instinctively yelling out, my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and I saw that I was in a large stone cellar. There was only a small barred window at one end, and the walls and floor were all bare stone. Shivering as the cold consumed me, I found I was stripped to the waist.

  Two other vampires hung on the wall, arms above their head, chained. It was dark, their heads hung low so I couldn’t see their faces but their scent was unforgettable.

  I didn’t know how long I had been like this, my feet were raised just off the ground so all my blood had drained to my feet.

  Jolting in shock, convulsions shot through me as I became aware of where I was. Muscles tensed, rigid with fear. Sweat immediately broke out and my breathing became rapid.

  What the hell had happened, how did I get here? It only seemed minutes ago that I was in sensual heaven. How the hell had I got here?

  On the damp stonewal
ls of the cellar hung metal tipped whips, some barbed. Paddles with spikes, metal facemasks, and various cat of nine tails. On the floor in the corner, was a rack. Swallowing hard, my mouth completely dry, I lost my breath. Did someone really use that? Strewn across the place, bloodied hammers, evidence that indeed there was a sadistic bastard here, and as I looked the sweat continued to stream off me.

  Amongst the devices lay skulls and bones of the less fortunate and the scent of blood was thick in the air.

  I struggled crazily, screaming out, and tilting his head slightly towards me, Tom’s eyes bruised and sullen. A shiver of fear passed through me. I had never seen him look like that, and as far as I knew, Tom was incredibly strong and hadn't known fear for a very long time.

  “Where are we? What is this place? How did I get here?” I asked frantically. It took all my effort to speak, I felt so drained.

  Tom and Josephine didn't answer. All hope stolen from their eyes, their souls lost, like men condemned to death.

  This was it, I was about to pay for my heinous depraved acts.

  But the thought persisted, how had I ended up here? Ah, Louisa. I couldn't help but smirk when I thought of her, what she had done to me. But that thought soon left me and now I was here in some dark-age nightmare.

  Maybe it was hours that passed, I was not sure, but eventually a heavy door opened and three vampires entered. I remember thinking that the waiting was the worst part, the anticipation of torture, the fear. But I was wrong.

  Alexander was to be more barbaric than I could have imagined and he eyed me with a yearning and distaste as one does when looking at an inferior being. I suffered a sense of dread that I had not known since before I was turned. Alexander was young when he was made vampire, about nineteen years old, his incandescent skin glowing. He was very slight with thick, dark curly hair. His ice-blue eyes provided a stark contrast to the black clothing he wore. He wore only designer black jeans and his pride, his gait tall and proud, self-assured.

  Two female vampires, also noble in their demeanour and both older than him accompanied him. A small woman in her twenties I'd guess with short dark hair called herself Elizabeth. Dressed in modern clothes, she looked out of place in them. And Tabitha, a more voluptuous woman, taller and antiquely dressed in the absolute vampire colour, crimson. Tabitha’s long dark hair looked striking against her snow-like complexion.

  All three hovered around us, scrutinising us, their faces a mixture of fascination and disgust. They would hurt us for sure, but I also felt their growing sense of sexual intrigue, which left me chilled to the core. Would they beat us to a pulp and then bleed us dry?

  And Alexander? The way he stared at me made me feel uneasy. He walked up to Tom and whispered something in his ear. Tom didn't even look up. Fear increased in me as Alexander's head tilted ever so slightly in my direction, and again he spoke quietly to Tom.

  We do have acute hearing and no human can keep his or her whispered words from us, however quiet. Unfortunately, the same isn't true amongst our own kind.

  After that, they all turned fast on their heels and left the cellar swiftly.

  I had no idea how long we'd all been left, but I was weak from lack of blood, the pain of being chained up causing me to drift in and out of consciousness.

  Alexander questioned me day after day. “Who made you?” he spat.

  “I don’t know, I was attacked!” I groaned. He picked up the club and beat me with it, against my side and stomach.

  He continued in a rage of questions, his voice severe but steady. “How did you meet Tom and Josephine? Why did you take the lives of mortals?”

  He battered me, punched me, and made me bleed for him. Grabbing my wrist, bit, and drank my blood whilst staring me in the eyes, a slight grin on his immaculate face. He was delighted by my pain and aroused by it. A psychotic vampire. What the fuck would I do now? He amused himself greatly with his psychological games and torture. His behaviour became more frenzied and he would press himself upon me, wicked and extreme as he was.

  Josephine and Tom suffered much the same and it was obvious that Alexander and his “group” had been trying to catch them for a long time.

  “You realise you put us all in jeopardy?” he shouted at us. “You shall all pay.” Laughing he said, “But we shall not kill you. No. We have other plans for you. You will be of use to us.” Like Nathaniel before him, Alexander spoke with exacting English, eloquent and determined.

  Days passed and we heard or saw nothing from any of them. We could barely talk, so weak. Our fate seemed doomed and God only knew what they had planned for us, if not death. Blood for others perhaps? Being drained to death. We were left in that cellar amongst the smell of blood; chained, beaten, and wondering what he would do to us next.

  I awoke to agony on my inner thigh and a piercing sting on my neck, that familiar pain. With a start, I opened my eyes to find Tabitha feeding on my thigh and Alexander feeding on my neck. My clothes were gone and they were aroused. I thought in that instant that I could drain them and escape. But I was too sore from the torture. Aching and broken.

  The weakness washed over me. I hadn't fed for so long. I glanced wearily over at Tom and Josephine. I'd have to help them, I couldn't be without them, not after all we'd been through. They were my evil kindred spirits, but then I thought of Sigurd. They were not my friends, their encouragement was what I was now being punished for, and I could leave them here in their wickedness and terror together.

  Then I forgot everything. They loosened my chains and Alexander kicked me, forcing me to the ground. I looked into his eyes. This wasn't what I wanted, but Alexander had other ideas.

  He dragged me by the back of my neck across the bloody stone floor and tossed me down. Their advances were assaulting, vicious, and strong. They took turns in their depraved fantasies. I was like a rag doll bandied around, used, and thrown about.

  They kicked me, beat me, bled me, and fed on me. Their shrill laughter chilled me to the bone. I knew my time had come, but it was such agony. Was this how my victims had felt? I was so powerless, battered, and bruised, filthy, and wallowing. It was surreal.

  Unconsciousness was again my only salvation releasing me from suffering, and the thirst being so harsh that I only have vague memories of sensations of that time. That twisted, dark nightmare. I was in Hell on earth.

  He dragged me along with a chain around my neck, Alexander looking hideously angry. The suffering was constant and agonising. Then Alexander was suddenly calm, all his violent anger gone and my body went cold and rigid with terror. Gulping for air, my legs shook and I trembled uncontrollably. Blurred vision, I reached out for something, anything to stabilize me. I found nothing. There was to be no redemption for me.

  Tabitha approached me, her mouth curved like a scythe, small eyes watching me, evil intent. She stripped naked, then placed herself onto me. Cold eyes looked right through me, but that smirk remained, I had to look away. She looked awful in her power and writhed around, laughing, grinding into me. Letting out an almighty yell that pained my ears, shrill and rasping, she laughed and I was so raw. So sore. Alexander stood there, watching me, no expression on his striking face.

  He grabbed the back of her head, pulled her off of me. Looking at me, he then spun her around and kissed her fiercely.

  I wondered why he had given me his blood unless it was to keep me alive a bit longer for his torment. It made my stomach spasm and I ended up coughing back out more than I could ingest. I wanted death; this was all that could release me now.

  I had no compulsion to escape their advances, they were too strong, and I was too sick. I hoped, at least, that the worst was over now. I would have prayed, but I don’t think God would hear me. I knew I was beyond saving. I hated this life, this mess, these fiends. If I had an eternity to become this, I would choose fire instead. Nothing can escape fire.

  Alexander grabbed me by the arms, led me back to the wall, put me in chains, and left with Tabitha.

  I have no idea h
ow long this lasted, days I think, but the pain, the stench, the thought of them repeating this at any time drove my mind crazy. Hardly able to breath, shock took me over in its entirety. I was broken.

  Alexander was confidently complacent regarding his safety and my powerlessness. After drinking his blood, slowly I became stronger but also nauseous. It was not normal. I could drink other vampire blood, and even though his blood had made me ill, I at least gained some power from it. Causing me to convulse from time to time, and it took what energy I had left to contain my discomfort when he entered the room.

  The routine was the same; he came in alone and walked up to me. He would whisper something in my ear and brush my face with his lips. I knew he was toying with me. I could not keep physically or mentally enduring this. His games made me snap. Literally.

  Maybe a vampire cornered and in fear of his life will fight to the death and find some untapped inner strength.

  As his lips brushed my face and he whispered softly in my ear, I locked my mouth onto his neck and sucked so hard, so fast that his legs weakened. I bit as hard as I could.

  He pulled away and I held fast. I tore his flesh as my bite remained fixed at his neck and he went down. His strong blood coursed through my veins. I could feel my strength returning, and my muscles pumping that elixir fast through me. This was my only chance. I made an almighty pull on the chains and they loosened slightly, and I grabbed at Alexander who was screaming in agony as half his flesh was left in my mouth.

  I grabbed him, wrists rattling in their shackles, and drank and drank. Immediately, my stomach tightened and I felt sick, but I fought through this. I pulled him and myself away from the wall. Nausea hit me as I clung to him; the bolts began to loosen away from the stone. I felt frantic, crazed. My grip around his neck held firm. Suddenly, we lunged forward as the bolts shot free and I stumbled onto him as we lost our footing. I grabbed at a metal rod that he had left carelessly on the floor and before I'd realised what I'd done, I'd impaled it through his dying body. It all happened in a second. Tom and Josephine were wide-eyed, their faces full of shock.