“You probably won’t survive,” Clara said. She stopped once they were close enough to feel one another’s body heat and stretched her neck out enough to whisper into Edith’s ear, “We may never see each other again.”
Edith had no words to offer. Instead, she closed her eyes as the soft tremble of those lips sent a shiver right down to her soul. She bit her lower lip in anticipation of something that would never be.
“But,” Clara said as she pulled away just enough to lick Edith’s lips on her way. “This time, God has blessed us with the opportunity to say goodbye.”
Clara smiled, winked and pressed forward until their lips made contact. The effect on them was immediate. Clara’s inhibitions melted away, while Edith struggled to keep her knees from buckling. Their tongues met, and their breathing quickened in excitement.
“Please dear,” Victoria said.
That voice dragged Edith back into reality. Clara understood what had happened and would not beg or plead for Edith to stay. They were hunters. This was part of the job and, sometimes, friends did not come home from a mission.
“Go,” Clara urged. “If God is willing, we will meet again.”
Edith was once more faced with this constant in her life: ever the faithful follower of rules, despite God taking her Angela away from her but, would she have opened her heart to Clara otherwise?
Edith handed the pistol back, smiled, closed her eyes, and focused. She thought about all of the good things in her life, and how faith had carried her this far. Faith was her weapon, one she wielded in battle against Evil.
Clara watched from a distance as Edith marched forward. There was no sensuality in the motions, instead, there was that same dogged determination from earlier. Just like those men who climbed over the trench walls during the Great War, Edith was a soldier of God and willingly served as his instrument.
When Edith approached, the tentacles did not react. The absolute calm she exuded prevented her from being seen as a threat. Still, Clara kept the shotgun at the ready just in case.
Once a set of tentacles came into contact with Edith, every limb backed away. Clearly, this thing had not been aware of her presence and reacted like any startled animal would.
Eventually, curiosity drove it to resume probing the area and found that Edith was still there. The contact did not cause this creature to burn like Clara had hoped. While these things were integral to the creation of the vampires, it did not share their weaknesses.
The tentacles became emboldened and began to wind around Edith’s body. They slid over every inch of exposed skin, looking for something. Ultimately, their goal remained unclear.
Edith gasped as one tentacle slithered beneath her knee duster. It sensed that warm crevice between her legs. Without any notice, it rammed itself home and did so with shocking speed. Edith did not fight back. Her faith remained unbroken. In her mind, and she was fulfilling God’s will.
Soon, other tentacles joined the first under the skirt, but this time, and they found an alternate path. Clara watched from where she was, aghast, but would not interfere.
Even when a tentacle exited Edith’s mouth, Clara did not move. She remained stoic, unmoved, a pillar of strength for her friend. Despite the outward appearance, she prayed for God to intervene.
Like falling into a pit of pythons, the tentacles writhed, coiled, and tightened around her friend’s chest. Again, nothing happened, and Edith was entirely under its control. The only thing that gave Clara strength was the defiance shining through Edith’s eyes.
When two of the tentacles slithered up to Edith’s head, Clara knew it was now or never. If God chose to sit this one out, Clara would take action, even if it meant scorching the Earth.
Ultimately, Clara’s involvement was not needed. Before the tentacles’ tips transformed into flechettes, a bright light surrounded Edith. Despite her friend being no longer able to speak, she imagined the word amen had been uttered.
It was one thing to be inside that circle of light and wake up as a soul on the other side of the veil. It was another matter entirely to witness the ascendance first hand.
Clara shifted her wings to block most of the direct light. She backed away slowly while ensuring she had solid footing. In the background, she heard the wind pick up, one so potent that it became her world.
What caught her off guard was the shockwave that followed. Powerful enough to whisk her off feet, it sent her flying into a tree.
“Horsefeathers!” Clara exclaimed.
* * * *
Clara pushed herself against the outer edges of the tree trunk and stretched out her neck before opening her eyes. All around, there were signs of the carnage unleashed from Edith’s ascendance.
The ground that surrounded Edith’s last location was scorched black. All the vegetation within that radius had been turned to ash. When a breeze picked up, the ash became airborne, which created the illusion of a heavy grey fog. Through this fog, she noted that the statue of Alice had been deformed from the heat, looking more like a collection of ant hills than a homage to one of her favourite childhood stories.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Clara said.
Her eyes lingered on the molten slag before moving further towards the centre. How she managed to miss this before, Clara had no idea, but she felt guilt to have overlooked it. In haste, she sprinted over to the quivering mass and kneeled beside Victoria.
What had once been a decaying corpse was now resurrected into the vessel of a mortally wounded woman. Gone were the signs of that parasitic creature. Still, the wounds were extensive. The temporal, frontal and zygomatic bones had all been shattered. Her jaw had been dislocated and her nose, eyes, and ears were little more than bloody craters.
Clara had served as a nurse in a combat theatre. She treated men riddled with shrapnel, others torn apart by artillery, and some were so badly burned that they begged for death. This woman had no ability to consolidate all of that pain, nor come to terms with her inevitable death.
Her fingers were bleeding profusely through what was left of her skin and muscle. Truthfully, if Victoria had been able to recover, what would that achieve? Condemned to a life of pain, but unable to find an outlet through which to express herself?
Fortunately, where God had failed to show compassion, man tipped the scales towards mercy. The wound in her back would ensure a swift death. Not even a skilled trauma surgeon had any hope of repairing her shredded spine. With such a wound, Clara could do nothing more than comfort.
She straddled Victoria’s head to steady her and caressed her hair. Clara then hummed a soft prayer, and while the words would never be heard, she hoped it would ease her transition. Victoria had been stripped of her right to choose eternal life for her soul; death was her only reward now.
A single gunshot rang out over the park, but Clara did not break her concentration. Victoria’s heart was beating strong for now. This was a young and healthy woman. Still a body could only take so much.
A helicopter swooped over the vicinity and pushed onwards to an open area big enough to accommodate its landing. Troops were sure to be headed her way, seasoned, and ready for war.
Clara did not care; she continued to comfort the dying woman. Even as boots with rattling drums of ammunition approached, she stood fast. Victoria’s heart began to beat harder, faster, all in an attempt to compensate for the blood loss. Her respiration grew more pained with every breath. Clara hoped that this poor woman was unconscious by now.
Before she knew it, the men had converged on the scene. They said nothing, yelled no orders, nor attempted to make contact. She guessed they had orders to neutralise any threats; after all, this was not her first dance with this breed of soldier. Besides, people feared the unknown, and Clara came with a very big question mark. Nonetheless, she was not about to abandon this woman.
Finally, Victoria’s heart stopped, exhausted and spent. Had this all been a dream, she might have lived a century or more. Now, she lay dead in a park with no ability
to make peace. Victoria let out a gentle sigh, but the damage to her body coerced the sound to create something unearthly. Still, Clara knew that Victoria’s fight was over and hoped that her soul would move on.
Clara bowed her head in respect and said, “Amen—”
Before Clara could finish her prayer, there was a blow to the back of her skull. An impact powerful enough to render her unconscious; she was out cold before she hit the ground.
ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR
Evelyn looked up to find a strawberry blonde bush followed by milky white plains and two voluptuous mountains parted to each side. All of this was under her control, and every decision she made could unleash untold waves of pleasure.
Her tongue was focused on the hardened little tip beneath the cap. Slow, deliberate pressure, flicking over the nib with a familiarity unsurpassed amongst mortals. Two fingers were already inserted within the warm slit. They were angled up towards that distinctive patch and rubbed with vigour.
As her partner approached climax, Evelyn felt the walls tighten and those smooth legs come together. The landscape before her shifted, revealing the wild haired beauty struggling to come to terms with all the ecstasy inundating her mind.
Evelyn sensed that Breanna’s heart rate climbed. Her breathing quickened as it grew shallow, while muscles spasmed randomly. Breanna tried desperately to grab onto something, anything, to steady herself, but the sheets were too slippery.
Her partner’s arousal also had an effect on Evelyn. The hot blood coursing through Breanna’s sex forced her to focus long enough to retract her fangs. Her blood smelled simply divine, just like the succulent nectar she enjoyed with every lick.
When Evelyn knew that her partner was nearly there, she pulled back, placed her thumb onto the clit, and applied pressure to both erogenous zones. She then bent one of Breanna’s legs away from her and traced her tongue lightly from the cleft upwards. Her tongue tasted the salty on her skin as it moved along Breanna’s midline, over to a breast, and finally right to its hardened nipple.
Evelyn flicked the nipple with her tongue and watched as her partner’s entire body reacted to this additional stimuli. She giggled, wrapped her moist lips around the nipple, and applied suction. Again her partner reacted, and Evelyn knew this would only deepen the orgasm.
Of course, it was the controlled, pulsating nibble that sent Breanna over the top. She looked up at her partners frozen face, flushed with blood, as the veins in her neck bulged out. Evelyn alternated between nibbles, suction, and a cool breeze from those puckered lips to up the ante.
This time, Breanna found something to grip. She latched onto Evelyn’s shoulders and dug her nails in. Evelyn did not react. Instead, she observed the spasms quickening while Breanna’s heart was at a gallop.
Breanna was no longer there, a slave to her desires. This body was Evelyn’s instrument, and she was a maestro blessed with centuries of practice. She understood that it was not a constant motion, nor pressure that yielded the best results. Sometimes, a woman was like being in a runaway car: while the ride itself was a thrill, the mind occasionally needed a moment or two to catch up.
When Evelyn stopped cold, the brunt of Breanna’s orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. So much so, that she tried to close her legs to protect those over-sensitive bits. No longer in control, her nails buried themselves deeper into Evelyn’s skin and, this time, drew blood.
It was those breasts that put on a show. They rocked back and forth while Evelyn watched this woman who could no longer manage a coherent scream. Instead, those beautiful eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed onto the mattress. This meant it would take a while before Breanna’s mind could claw itself out of the maelstrom of ecstasy, which was exactly how Evelyn wanted her.
“Allô, ma belle,” Evelyn said softly, with her haunting musical tones.
Georgians were immune to most forms of vampiric persuasion. It was fortunate that a few like Evelyn knew of ways to lower their foe’s mental defences. Those who knew of this skill were rare indeed. A good thing, too, because if the word got out, they would lose the advantage.
“I see stars,” Breanna murmured with a slight giggle.
“Better now?” Evelyn asked, whispering the words over on erect nipple. “Such a hard day at work, non?”
Breanna shivered. While the memory of that orgasm lingered, her body craved more. A little voice in her mind told her to focus, but she was out of fucks for now.
“Brett fucked up at work,” Breanna replied.
“Oh?” Evelyn asked.
Evelyn withdrew her fingers from between those vaginal lips and extracted a pool of milky white liquid. She then gingerly hovered it over Breanna’s lips who willingly tasted the essence of her own sex.
“Hmmm? Oh! Yeah, the idiot set the power levels too high and made a shit show of things,” Breanna said.
Evelyn swirled her tongue around that nipple, ignoring any pain radiating from the open wounds on her back. She would heal in time, but for now, she could not afford to lose this opportunity. Once again Breanna reacted as expected, and it was up to Evelyn to keep that mind clouded in a blissful fog.
“What happened?” Evelyn said while toning down the enchantment in her words to sound disinterested.
Breanna simply said, “My gawd. The things you do to me with just one hand and that magic tongue.”
Evelyn knew that Breanna would lose all concentration if she pushed it too hard. So she eased up on the nipple play, for now.
Evelyn asked once more, “You were saying something about Brett’s fuck up?”
This lull introduced some risks to the interrogation. While the subject was more focused, it increased the risk of Breanna’s mind asserting itself.
No matter, it seemed, since Breanna replied, “We shattered the fabric of space and time.”
“Vraiment? Très intéressant,” Evelyn said.
Evelyn let Breanna relax her legs and pulled away from those spectacular breasts to get a better view of her body. It was a glorious affair featuring wide hips, a generous ass, and tits to compliment her exaggerated hourglass figure. Overall, it was that curly red hair that really sold it. A beauty beyond compare, because she had been designed to look that way.
“Yeah,” Breanna said. “Fucked it up good too. All because we wanted you to turn…”
That pause meant her mind’s defences were beginning to take over. Evelyn slid her hand between Breanna’s legs and straddled the clit between two fingers. Now it was time for slow and deliberate circular motions.
Breanna buried the back of her head into the mattress while the rest of her body braced for wave after wave of pleasure. Evelyn giggled. Every sound uttered was both musical and mesmerizing. This manoeuver managed to ease Breanna under her spell once more.
“So why was Victoria important?” Evelyn asked, keeping a casual tone throughout the questioning.
“She would chronicle… demise of your kind… god yes… turning her… government… hmmm… response,” Breanna replied, although her mind was a touch too disconnected to get a clear response.
This was an old game for Evelyn, so she asked, “Her family’s corporation would have led to our exposure?”
Breanna tried to close her legs, to push away the source of all that stimulation, but Evelyn had more than enough strength to keep this going. Evelyn knew the balance between coherence and ecstasy was about to tip to one side or the other.
“Y-Y-YES!” Breanna exclaimed.
How fortunate that Evelyn knew Breanna well enough to anticipate the answer. Although with this level of stimulation, another orgasm would not be far behind.
Evelyn prodded, “Tell me where your office is.”
“W-W—” Breanna said in an attempt to question what had been asked.
She soon found herself in a deep and passionate kiss. As their tongues danced with one another, Evelyn accelerated the motions on the clitoris, and dropped her hand down to those welcoming lips just long enough to
wet her fingers. This allowed her to glide freely over the clit.
Breanna moaned, a deep guttural sound that resonated between the two women. Evelyn pulled away, smiled suggestively and waited.
Breanna’s mind struggled to deny Evelyn the answers she sought. But she eventually gave up the exact address, floor, and room number, all out of fear of being denied another orgasm. Pleasure was indeed a powerful motivator.
Evelyn’s smile widened before breaking out into laughter. Once Breanna instinctively reciprocated, Evelyn responded by slapping her hard on the cunt. The tinge of pain forced Breanna’s mind back to the forefront and, despite the sting, it did not lessen her arousal.
“What was that for?” Breanna whined.
Evelyn’s smile shifted to something more chilling, more sadistic. Breanna’s mind did not register it at first, but she soon put all of the pieces together.
The Van Helsing Resurgence Page 26
