 |
|||
|
|
Part 8
Cabud unfastened the handcuffs and released Helena, leaving her alone once more. Sated at last, and with the incandescent First Blood orgasm fading from her as she sprawled across the bed, Helena was at last ready to sleep.
It seemed to her that the bed was more luxurious than any that she had ever experienced. Maybe that was simply because she had known such discomfort over last few days that any softness seemed glorious; or maybe it was because her vampire senses were heightened and she could feel the touch of the sheets more keenly than before to sense the pleasure that they could give. Whatever the case, Helena bathed in the warmth of the mattress, and drew the covers over her to go into a deep sleep.
Helena dreamed as she slept. She was running through a thick forest, her bare feet stumbling on uneven ground and her rough woven dress tattered by dozens of snagging thorns and branches from brambles and trees around her. She was being chased by something terrifying; more fearsome than wolf or bear or wild boar, this creature was thinking, it knew what it was doing and was coldly intelligent in its pursuit of its prey. Her only hope was to find help from some huntsman or warrior who could kill the manlike beast. Others, Helena seemed to know in her dream, had died recently by this mysterious new predator. Tales came from other villages of similar deaths there. These thoughts flashed briefly through the mind of the frightened girl as she raced through the wild wood, seeking sanctuary somewhere away from the permanent twilight caused the thick leafy canopy above.
Always concentrating on her next move, there was no time to brood on how she had wandered from the main group of mushroom-pickers. One wrongly-placed foot and she would become a meal for whatever it was that had killed half a dozen other young men and women. Always alert for a sign of habitation or of human presence, that would enable her to find safety.
There! A clearing off to the right, and just maybe a hint of smoke from some huntsman's fire, perhaps? Dream-Helena seized upon the shred of hope. Maybe now she would escape the fate of her compatriots. Behind her, she could hear again the sounds of her pursuer. Maybe she would make it. Maybe there would be someone there to end the horror.
The girl burst into the clearing and, sure enough, a tall man waited there, a long, powerful spear pointing in Helena's direction, for he would not have known what was tearing through the forest towards him. Still he did not, for Helena knew she was not the only creature abroad in the shady woodland. She quickly tried to tell him that she was being chased, but he rapidly walked over to her and pulled her to his side. He seemed to know instinctively that there was a greater threat there. His attire was strange: he wore gloves on a warm spring day, and a broad-brimmed hat that cast shade over all his face. It seemed as though every inch of his skin was covered somehow, but the girl whom Helena had become in the dream did not wonder at it, relieved now that she had someone ready to protect her.
As if from afar, recognition came to Helena, but it was not a part of the dream: she did not know the face as the events unfolded but had seen him thousands of years later. If there had been a part of her still in touch with her old self then she would have been screaming uselessly for the girl to flee once more, but now there was only delicious anticipation. For the man was unquestionably Cabud, in his early days.
But the bite and death that she had expected did not follow in this dream. The girl instead saw an old woman, with maybe as many as 40 summers, emerge from the woods. Had this woman been the creature whose sounds had chased Helena this far? Was she herself fleeing from the terror that definitely had accosted Helena earlier? The hunter and the woman seemed to know one another. The spear was dropped to the floor.
Then the man's grip was on her arms like a metal trap, and his touch was like the Spirit of Winter that withers all living things. The girl struggled, knowing now what waking Helena could have told her: this was no saviour, but a demon of the night, whose skin could never know the kiss of the sun and who had killed many victims across the land, and was now preying on yet another village that would be left in fear long after he moved to new hunting grounds to start again. Her efforts were in vain, and she cried out to the lady standing before her for help, but the woman just laughed, and the laugh was like the clattering of human skeletons as they are collected to be carved into trophies of war.
Helena screamed in the dream in one last effort to be rescued, but the clearing was far away from any human ear. The woman used the moment to jam a ball of cloths into Helena's open mouth, and then still struggling, Helena was dragged into the shade at the side of the clearing, where they laid her on her back in the damp earth. The woman placed a firm foot onto Helena's chest that she would not shift, despite the girl's continued efforts.
"She smells sweet, and her heart beats strongly after her run," said the man whom waking Helena knew as Cabud. "She will be good for you, Cabudith."
"No, Samink," replied the woman, "You found her, you caught her. She is yours to take first."
"Then I will make full use of her, for she is untouched by man, and I perceive her maidenhead remains intact. Bring her, and we will make a great pleasure of this."
Helena was once again lifted by the two vampires (for undoubtedly they were both of that breed) and carried a little further. She was placed with her back against a tree while the woman, Cabudith, held her wrists firmly and stretched the girl's arms high above her head. In a lighting-quick movement, Samink drew his long hunting knife and plunged it through the girl's palms that were lying one on top of the other, and pinning them to the tree with the force of his blow. Helena could see the light in her captors' eyes as they saw the blood trickling down from the wound.
Now in the safety of the deep shade of the tree canopy, Samink removed his clothing and stood before the quivering, whimpering girl. Helena watched from within the body of the girl as the full glory of Samink's manhood became apparent. The remnants of the girl's dress were torn from her by Cabudith and Samink brought the tip of his erection to the entrance of the virgin girl's pussy. Cabudith removed the gag from the victim's mouth, her cold grey eyes drinking in the sheer terror in her victim's face. Samink's hands gripped Helena's hips and he readied himself for the deflowering of his prey.
Helena felt the full length of the vampire's cock tear through her hymen and plunge mercilessly onwards towards her womb. It was not a scream but a long, drawn out wail of utter anguish and humiliation that erupted from the girl's lips. She had been taught to save herself for her husband, intended to be one of the chieftain's younger sons. Now she was worthless as well as doomed to be the latest fatality in the vampires' reign of terror.
Helena felt her body being pounded, and limply responding to the brutal force that Samink put into his thrusts. Her back was being bruised against the cruel bark of the tree and her hands sometimes were having to take her entire weight on that vicious knife that had transfixed them. The part of her that had recognised Samink as being Cabud knew that the way he was using this girl, he would not be turning her as he had done Helena. The dreaming Helena just knew the pain that the girl had experienced. True enough, Samink climaxed quickly as the girl shuddered in revulsion at what had been done to her. Only then did the feeding begin.
Samink unsheathed his fangs and showed them to the girl, but she was past caring: the horror of her rape had left her in shock and unable to interpret the events around her. Cabudith's fangs had no effect either on the broken girl's emotions.
Blood was trickling from the torn a battered entrance to Helena's vagina, mingling with the seed of Samink's manhood. To it, Cabudith was drawn as Samink smoothly bit into Helena's neck. At once, the girl stiffened and croaked a protest but the damage was done and her voice would never be heard again. Simultaneously, Cabudith used one fang to open a gash in the wall of Helena's vagina, so that she was suckling at the opening in order to feed, her tongue massaging the sensitive flesh around the wound.
Helena was drawn at once to her own experience of Cabud's teeth in her neck, and to the discovery of what the nameless girl from the club had felt when Helena had taken her first feed. She felt her dream-self retreat from the body as the girl nailed to the tree by Cabud's knife, expired.
But the dream did not end. The vampires faded from the picture, and Helena found herself facing the girl whose experiences she had just shared. She was still nailed to the tree, but the knife had been taken and replaced by some other means of fastening her. The girl's eyes opened and her lips moved, though no sound came out. In the dream, Helena was able to lip-read the words as the girl "spoke" them.
"They never found me. How many more must there be? When will you stop hurting us?"
Helena felt her hand reach out, but there was no hand to see. Still, she felt her fingers touch the girl's forehead. Her voice, sounding strange and tinkling like icicles breaking, but still unmistakably her own voice, replied, "You die to feed us. It will never end."
The dream ended, and Helena slept on undisturbed by the accusation of Cabud's early victim.
|
|
|