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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Runaway Dream Ch.8 by Rachael Ross (F/f, Vampire, Rom, Drugs, Prostitution, Violence, Horror)
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Date: Fri, 01 Jun 2007 12:10:03 -0400
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The Runaway Dream

Copyright 2000-2007 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for
adults.
Story Codes F/f, Vampire, Rom, Drugs, Prostitution, Violence, Horror

Note: You should read the first eight parts, beginning with "Runaway
Dream Intro" before reading this ninth part of the story.


The Runaway Dream
by rache

Chapter 8 - Anamorphosis

"The call of death is a call of love." - Hermann Hesse



I was asleep, and I knew I was because my parents were alive. It was
dark everywhere, as if we were in a tunnel and driving through it. I
was in the backseat, buckled up tight and holding Edgar. I smiled, in
my sleep I think, because I'd forgotten him completely. Edgar the
Bear, soft and stuffed and in my arms.

What a nice dream, except for my shoulder. It hurt and when I looked
down at it I could see I was bleeding. I was bleeding in the back of
the car and my parents were in the front. My dad driving, my mom with
her head against the glass, sleeping as we drove.

I thought I should wake her up and tell her about my shoulder, but I
sat there because I knew I couldn't. I had to sit very still because
it was coming and I held my bear tight, Edgar, even though I knew I'd
never hold him tightly enough. He'd fly out of my hands forever in a
minute.

And the car was dark, inside that tunnel, and cold now. The wind was
in my hair and there she was. Angela, standing in the road, standing
in the light in front of us. Looking at me, smiling with her arms
wide. It was her and it had always been her, appearing out of the
dark.

My dad didn't yell, didn't make a sound, he just jerked in his seat,
his strong arms turning the steering wheel, too hard, too fast. I
wanted to stop him. I knew her. We couldn't hurt her, she was already
dead and already moving, out of the way, stepping aside to let us
pass.

The car went one way, and then the other, throwing us all left and
right and left again. My mom's head hit the window she'd been resting
against and it shattered suddenly and silently. All those broken
pieces flying through the air, glittering like diamonds. And it was
quiet and we hit that big tree and Edgar was gone. Ripped away and
flying out of my arms to heaven.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"How do you feel?" Angela was washing my shoulder, trying to smile.

"It hurts." I said, blinking at the lights. It was a kitchen, a tiny
one, and I was leaning against the refrigerator, sitting on the dirty
floor.

We were in a small apartment, an ugly place, one of those two room
places you could rent by the day or week. I'd been in them before and
the people who lived in them were ugly and stupid and poor. There was
someone living here, in this one, a man I thought, judging from the
pornography that littered his small kitchen table. The empty bottles
of cheap liquor and overflowing ashtrays. A mess everywhere. Dirty.
Greasy.

A man was dying here and he was out for the moment. Working maybe, or
more likely stalking the video arcades, looking at women he'd never
know, that didn't even exist, except in cellophane wrappers and
digital video. He'd spend his last dollar on dreams, jerking off or
getting drunk. Dragging dead smoke into his lungs. No one lived in
places like this, they just died here.

There was another man there too, and he was not gone. I could smell
him, but not the man who lived there. I turned my head to see him at
the sink, washing his hands, or maybe something else. He was human and
dressed like a doctor, with the white coat and the funny green pants,
the scrubs that doctors wear.

He was frightened.

"I'm hungry." I stared at him.

"Not yet." Angela told me gently. "We need him."

She was hungry too, famished as Angela hadn't eaten in three days now,
and she was feeling it. Bringing me here had taken a lot of her
strength, and finding the doctor while I'd slept, convincing him to
leave his hospital and come with her, that would have drained much of
Angela's reserves as well.

"The..." He turned around, holding a plate with some instruments on it,
medical tools, and he froze when he saw me awake and hungry.

"Do what you have to." Angela told him, her voice soft and soothing,
telling him it was okay.

I was naked from the waist up, with a hole in my shoulder, just above
and to the right of my right breast. I was very pale and my mouth was
open, showing him my fangs while my red eyes stared into his. I needed
blood, I wanted him. I couldn't help it and I felt my hands making
fists, digging razor sharp nails into my palms.

"The bullet is still inside." He said slowly, filled with fear now and
the irresistible urge to do as Angela asked. "And...And her shoulder is
fractured, we'll have to set it."

Angela was sitting with me and she held me, wrapping her arms around
me so that my own arms were trapped against my body. She kissed my
cheek and whispered soft words to sooth us both, the doctor and me. He
was young and handsome and oh, so alive! I could smell his blood
beneath his skin.

But I sat still, as much as I could, while the man used his steel
tools to dig into my shoulder. It hurt a lot, worse than anything, but
I didn't scream. My tolerance for pain was a hundred times what it had
been as a human. I just set my jaw, staring at that pulsing vein on
the man's neck as he bent over me, working to remove a small bit of
metal, dropping it on the plate.

"Is that it?" Angela asked.

"No...It fragmented." The doctor said, going back into me for more.
Deeper this time and I hissed at him, jerking violently for a brief
second in Angela's arms, but then I calmed.

He found the bullet, misshapen copper that looked very big to my eyes
and it landed on the plate with a heavy sound. He looked for other
pieces, pulling at the wound, using a penlight and saying we should
get x-rays and all of that business.

"I think I got all of it." He looked at Angela. "But you should..."

"It's okay. She'll live anyway, fix her shoulder now." Angela told him
and the doctor looked unhappy, but he had little choice.

He was strong mentally, and his ego was a powerful thing, and so
Angela's power over him was weak at best. She'd had to work hard to
get him this far and it was wearing thin. It seemed to me that his
professional interest was keeping him close to us now, more than
anything Angela might say to him.

"We ought to bring her..." The doctor began saying, but he knew we
weren't going anywhere. Not to a hospital certainly. The police would
be looking for a girl with a gunshot wound, not to mention the fact
that we were vampires.

"How do we do it?" Angela interrupted him. "Just tell me, I'll help."

It wasn't very complicated, just a matter of pushing and pulling my
shoulder into the right spot again. I'd heal quickly enough, in just a
matter of days really. Angela wasn't worried about that so much, but
more the fact that I'd heal even if my bones were crooked, and
obviously I didn't want to be hunchbacked, or lop-sided, or anything
else. We needed to get everything where it belonged.

That involved a lot of pain, as it turned out. Surprisingly though,
once my shoulder was set, most of the real pain went away. There was
just an ache, really, like a deep cramp. My shoulder throbbed as my
flesh slowly but surely knitted itself back together and I sat back in
Angela's arms, flushed and damp and breathing heavily as I'd screamed
briefly in the middle of it all.

"We need to dress that wound and immobilize her arm, isolate her
shoulder as much as possible." He was speaking confidently now, like a
real doctor who's really in charge. Angela's control was gone, he was
free of her now and yet he stayed. Foolish in his ego, as doctors must
be I guess.

Angela was going to kill him, any second now. We'd feed on him
together and wait for the man who lived here, we'd kill him too. And
hide ourselves away as much as possible from the daylight when it
came. Waiting for my body to heal, waiting until I could travel more
easily and we could return home.

"I won't tell anyone about you." The doctor said, standing up, away
from us slightly. He looked rather sad to me.

"I know." Angela said softly and she was tense and moved so quickly
then, taking the man almost as she might a lover, in her arms, kissing
his neck.

The doctor struggled briefly, fighting for his life, but he was dying
quickly. She feed on him until his heartbeat was just a rumor and then
brought him to me, so that I could draw the small bit of life that
remained from his limp form. He was rich with life and even those few
swallows that I had seemed to revitalize me somewhat, pushing the pain
away completely.

I didn't tell Angela about my dream. She was making a place for us to
sleep during the day. I could hear her in another room, moving things,
doing whatever she could to cover the windows. Dawn was coming and we
had to hope the person who stayed in this apartment would be home
soon. It wouldn't do if he opened the door at noon and found the dead
doctor on his kitchen floor and two vampires sleeping in his bed.

And the dream was for me alone, for the moment. I remembered it now, I
remembered all of it. It wasn't just a dream, it was a memory. I
remembered finally and I remembered everything. We'd crashed and my
parents had died because Angela had been there. Standing in the middle
of the road, for just a second, just long enough to make my dad swerve
and hit that tree.

She'd killed them as easily as if she'd bitten them, and perhaps she
had, because I didn't remember anything after that. Not until I woke
up in the ambulance. So Angela might have come to the car, to the
wreckage of our lives, and made sure I was an orphan. Had she done it
because of me? Or in spite of me, I wondered.

I didn't understand it yet, not completely. Angela had dreamt of me,
she'd said, and I tried to remember if she'd told me when her dreams
had started. Had they led her to kill my parents, to make me
vulnerable that way? Or had I been a surprise when she'd found me?
Maybe she'd only dreamt of me after the accident, after she'd killed
my parents and let me live. Like I'd haunted her.

I was too weak to think about it, too innocent perhaps to understand
the way a mind as old as Angela's would work. The only thing I knew
then was that she was my enemy. The murderer of my mother and father,
the agent that God had sent to punish me. He was in her, I was certain
of that. God was inside Angela, evil and corrupt and He'd killed me
too, turned me into this thing I was.

So I just sat there, against the refrigerator, eyes closed and tasting
the dead man's blood on my tongue. I imagined how I was going to open
her up, look inside Angela and search for that cancer she carried. He
couldn't hide forever and He wasn't perfect, I knew that now. He
should have killed me when He'd had the chance, because I was getting
stronger.

Angela would explain to me why she'd done what she had. Explain and
apologize and die. All I needed to do was get healthy, get strong, and
I would take her. I'd have my small revenge, if not on God, then at
least on her. That was a good thought and it warmed me as much as the
good doctor's blood had.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The person who lived in that small apartment came home just before
sunrise. He unlocked his door with jangling keys, huffing and puffing
from climbing two flights of stairs. He was tall and overweight,
carrying a bottle of something, a jug of cheap wine, and half a
cigarette burned between his thick lips, the smoke making his eyes
water.

He closed the door automatically, the way people do, slamming it
behind him with little regard for his neighbors and then he dropped
his wine as Angela killed him. The bottle didn't break, it just rolled
briefly, coming to a stop close to where I sat, watching.

Angela fed for a few moments and then dragged him to me, leaving a
thick trail of smeared blood on the floor and I had my fill of him. I
was very tired by then, and my shoulder was hurting less, but it still
ached. Angela had made a sling for me and I wore it over my left
shoulder, with my right arm across my tummy, but it seemed strange,
almost silly that a vampire should have to be dressed like that.
Bandaged and nursing her shoulder. They didn't do that in the movies.

In the movies the bullets went right through the vampires, like they
weren't even there. That would have been pretty nice, I thought. At
least I'd gotten a good lesson in the reality of my situation. Bullets
could kill, like a knife in the heart, or a long fall from a high
place, or a thousand other things. I wasn't immortal or invulnerable,
I was physical. I had some abilities, skills that seemed like magic
and I couldn't explain, and weaknesses too.

Being a vampire wasn't very much like I thought it would be, but
sometimes it was exactly as I might have imagined. The feeding, the
drinking of blood, that was like I expected, but only the basic fact
of it, The reality was much different. The way even a filthy man's
blood warmed my body, giving my skin a healthy color and the illusion
of real life. The sexual thrill that came from feeding, that was
always strange. How even the smell of blood could make my nipples hard
and my sex damp with anticipation.

Every time I drank blood, I craved sex, as if the two things were
linked for some reason. And if I had sex, even with just Angela, I'd
feel the hunger like teeth gnawing at my belly. Whether I was truly
hungry or not, and I rarely was, having sex filled me with the desire
to kill and drink human blood.

Angela felt the same, I knew, and I thought it was something that
affected all vampires, although I had no idea why. It didn't make
sense, considering we couldn't reproduce. I hadn't had a menstruation
since Angela had turned me. My womb was empty, barren, and so why all
the desire? But we were only nature's stepchildren, not completely of
the universe, but partially something else. Something beyond the
normal and so all my thoughts and speculations hardly mattered at all.

They just put me to sleep mostly, closing my eyes in the dark, feeling
Angela's hand on my bare tummy. And I hadn't forgotten about her.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"The car's gone." Angela shrugged. She'd gone out after sunset,
planning on coming back to get me for the long drive home.

There were roadblocks on the highways still, the news was showing
state policemen stopping cars to check for the suspects in the biggest
crime to hit Sacramento in twenty years. A triple homicide, including
two cops. They weren't going to give up the search easily or quickly,
but that would have been little problem. Angela was strong again,
she'd fed well and all she had to do was talk to a man, touch his hand
maybe, and he'd wave us through and forget about it five minutes
later.

But the car had been towed, probably. Or the cops might have gotten
it. There was nothing in it to lead them directly to us. It was the
Honda, with Utah plates and registered to Nancy Parker in Salt Lake
City. That would come to a dead end, which would be suspicious, but
hardly helpful. If anything it should draw the cops away from who we
really were and where we truly lived.

"So..." I looked at her, across the ugly guy's dead body that we'd left
sprawled in his little living room.

"So, we need a new car." Angela smiled. "Maybe someone willing to give
us a ride."

"Do you know someone?" I asked her.

"In this town?" Angela grinned. "Not yet. I need to find you some
clothes too."

I looked down at myself. All I had on was that red vinyl skirt,
spattered now with old blood. A pair of small pink panties, and some
sandals. I definitely needed some clothes, and decent ones, I hoped.
My shoulder was healing fast, the bullet hole was white and pink and
puckered closed already, with just a little bruising still evident.
But my bones, my shoulder bones, they were still weak and I couldn't
move my right arm very much yet. It had only been a day though.

"I guess I have to wait here." I made a little face.

"I won't be long." Angela stepped close, kissing my forehead and
stroking my good arm. "Any preference?"

"You know what I like that." I gave her a little smile. "I'm hungry
again."

"I know, it's your shoulder. Healing takes a lot of blood." Angela
nodded. "You can probably take a bath if you want."

"Have you seen the tub?" I laughed and shook my head. "I think the guy
was growing something in it."

"Well, later then. I'll be back soon." Angela kissed me again, on the
lips this time and I returned it. I wasn't going to give her any
reason to suspect that I knew the truth about her now.

I had doubts though, too. She loved me, I know she did, and I loved
her too. More than I'd loved anyone else, except my parents maybe, I
loved Angela. But it's a thin line between love and hate and once
crossed it's almost impossible to go back. But what if I was wrong?
What if it had been an accident? What if I wasn't really remembering
it the way it happened, but somehow putting Angela in my memory
because I wanted to, or needed to?

It could have been that I was just so afraid that Angela had been
involved that my confused mind was making it seem that way. Guilt
could do that, right? I mean my parents were dead and I'd gone on
living, so maybe this was how I was punishing myself for it.

I frowned, wishing I was smarter, wishing I had someone to talk to
about it. I went into the bathroom, just to make sure my opinion of
the bathtub wasn't going to change, and it didn't. It was dark and
dirty, with fungus and mold and I had no idea what else. I had no clue
where the dead guy had bathed, but it couldn't have been in that tub.

I looked through his bedroom, looking for clothes, but I didn't find
anything I'd ever want to wear. Mostly it was too big, or too ugly, or
just too dirty. There was porn in one of the drawers, along with
stretched out yellow stained underwear. Child porn, hidden away, with
pictures of little girls and boys doing the bad things with grownup
men.

I'd seen that stuff before, up in Seattle. There was a guy who sold
it, along with some good heroin once in awhile, and I'd get my fix
from him usually. He'd lived in a place like this and the one time I'd
jacked in his bedroom he'd tried to fuck me, thinking I'd be too
fucked up to stop him. But he wasn't much and I'd skipped out of his
place, bouncing off the walls and down the stairs, not laughing, or
crying, but just wrapped in that mind numbing fog.

I missed the dope sometimes. It had made the world almost bearable.

That's what Angela did for me now, but maybe not anymore. My head
hurt, and my heart too. A lot more than my shoulder. I sat down in
front of the little television, but I didn't turn it on. I just looked
at the chair reflected weakly on that dull black tube. The empty chair
that I was sitting in, cause I was invisible and I wondered how
science would ever explain that. It was magic.

But everything is magic if you don't know why.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"In here..." I heard Angela's voice and I smelled the girl she was with.
I didn't even have to turn my head to know she was there.

"Kay..." The girl had a soft voice, kind of nasal.

"Are you going to be okay?" Angela asked her, and then I did look
because that sounded like a strange question to ask someone who was
about to die.

"Oh fuck..." She said and then giggled. "...yeah, it's cool. Is he...?"

"Yeah." Angela nodded and then she looked at me, giving me a smile
while the girl stared at the dead guy.

"And she's the one you were telling me about?" The girl stared at me
for a second, not really waiting for an answer before walking over and
I realized Angela hadn't played any tricks on her mind at all.

She was tall, one of those willowy sort of girls and thin, like she
had some kind of eating disorder. Her skin was pasty white, almost
anemic it seemed, and I could see her blue veins clearly inside her
arms and the tops of her breasts. She had a pretty face, but way too
much makeup. Her eyes were painted black and her lips as well, black
with lipstick all moist and glossy. She had black hair, short in the
back and sides, like a boy's, but her bangs were long and parted in
the middle, streaked with crimson.

The girl was total Goth, a vampire wanna be, I thought, wearing what
looked like a wedding dress more than anything else, except it was
black. The crinoline was old and hardly stiff, and covered with a
gauze of satin lace that rustled like old dead leaves. It had been cut
short and properly hemmed to the knees and it was nice, but a little
too funeralish for my tastes.

"Wow, yeah..." The girl walked over and knelt in front of my chair.
"I've been looking for you guys my whole life." She was smiling at me
and her eyes were blue and barely dilated at all. She wasn't high. "Do
you want to bite me? Angela did already."

She held her left arm out, palm up so I could see the bruised bite
across her vein were Angela had tasted the girl.

"Carrie's going to help us." Angela moved behind her, putting her arms
around the young woman and kissing her neck. "Aren't you?"

"Oh yeah, anything." Carrie nodded, staring into my eyes. "Take me
with you, I'll do anything you want."

I wanted to bite her badly right then, and not just her arm, sampling
her sweet blood, but Carrie's neck. I wanted to drink her dry, but
Angela hadn't brought the girl here for that, I understood, she would
be more valuable to us alive. And she was so willing, so eager, and I
could satisfy myself with her in other ways.

"Lick me then." I said, pulling up the hem of my skirt, showing the
girl my slit outlined beneath my tight panties. "Show me."

"I've never done that." Carrie said, but it wasn't a refusal or an
excuse, just her desire to let me know I was the first girl she'd ever
make love with.

Her mouth was on me quickly and Angela pulled the long bangs from
Carrie's face as we watched her pull the crotch of my panty aside. I
was wet already. I'd gotten wet the moment I'd smelled her and she
wasn't very good, but Carrie was eager and Angela was right there to
kiss her neck and play with her tits.

I moaned softly, lifting my butt slightly as the young woman's pierced
tongue played across my hardening clit. She couldn't have been more
than 19 or 20, maybe still a high school girl, but I doubted it. More
likely college, I thought, but it wouldn't have mattered in any case.
She licked me hard at first, using all of her soft pink tongue across
my clit and I told her to use her fingers, to spread my pussy so she
could get inside.

Angela had lifted Carrie's dress, pulling it up to her hips and I
could see my mate's arm moving, obviously rubbing and fingering
Carrie's cunt while she licked my pussy. We both wanted this, Angela
and I, even needed it the same way we needed blood. This was some
other form of feeding, an emotional vampirism maybe, where we drank
pleasure instead of blood.

I held Carrie's head in my left hand. Pulling her mouth against my
pussy as I watched her stiff tongue work between my wet pink folds.
She was getting better, and truthfully it turned me on a little more
knowing this girl had never sucked pussy before. Carrie had never
wanted to, but she'd gone down on me in a heartbeat. She was devoted,
at least for the moment.

And Angela was fully behind her now, licking Carrie's pussy from
behind, the girl's legs spread wide as she knelt there. Angela was
probably biting her as well, just sinking her long sharp teeth into
the girl's sex here and there, drawing sweet blood to join Carrie's
growing wetness, the juices of life and love mixing so that Angela
could drink lap them up with her tongue.

She came before I did, Carrie lifting her mouth briefly to cry out
with her eyes tightly shut. Her body was flushed and shaking, that
deathly pale skin taking on a soft pink hue briefly and I let her have
it, stroking her hair for a long moment until she'd regained her
breath and could put her lips back on my sex.

I moved hard against her finally, ignoring the dull pain, it was
barely noticeable beneath the pleasure I was feeling. I was cumming
good, my cunt trembling around Carrie's tongue and she worked it over
and inside my pussy. I pulled her open mouth against me hard, holding
her there so she could kiss my sex as a lover should, drinking my
tangy sweet orgasm, swallowing it eagerly until I sat back, smiling
and nodding happily.

Carrie was smiling as well, licking her lips and wiping her glistening
cheeks and chin with her hand. Angela was leaning back, having
finished with Carrie a few minutes before. She'd drank several orgasms
and her mouth was stained with thin blood from the bites she'd given
the girl.

"We'll go to your place." Angela told her. "You have an apartment,
right? That's what you said?"

"Yeah." Carrie nodded. "But I have a roommate, she's..."

"Do you love her?" I asked, pulling Carrie so she could put her cheek
on my cunt and kiss the inside of my left thigh.

"She's my friend..."

"Do you love her?" I demanded softly.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I'll kill her." I said, and Angela just watched us, smiling at me.

"I know." Carrie nodded weakly.

"I'll make you watch." I stroked her hair.

"I'll watch." She promised me.

"Who do you belong to?" I asked.

"You." Carrie turned her face and kissed my clit softly. "Only you,
Mistress."

I smiled at that and looked to see Angela grinning at me. She had her
Petra, Angela did, her loving and obedient slave. A girl who needed no
control or coercion, but gave herself completely out of love. Perhaps
this girl, this Carrie would be mine. As I'd wished Audrey could have
been. I didn't know yet, although perhaps Angela did as she had much
more experience than me, but I hoped it would be so.

I needed a friend, and even a girl like Carrie would be better than
nothing, for I couldn't trust Angela, not anymore. And so Petra would
also be my enemy eventually. I needed someone, a human, that I could
trust to care for me, to watch over me while I lay vulnerable during
the day.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I had little choice but to put on one of the dead man's shirts. It was
a button down flannel shirt in red and black, and much too large for
me. I just wore it buttoned over my shoulders, keeping my arm in the
sling beneath it. The cotton smelled of dust and cockroach eggs, but I
would wear it just long enough to get to Carrie's apartment, which was
away from downtown, near the junior college she attended.

Carrie drove her car, which was a Volkswagen Beetle, one of the real
ones, the old ones, and it was in surprisingly good shape. A gift from
her father, Carried had told us, when she'd graduated high school the
summer before. She was just 19 and she'd been in love with vampires
since she'd been born, or so she claimed. I wouldn't dispute it, and
neither did Angela, who was of the opinion that there were people born
to serve us.

Persons born into the world with corrupt souls.

Carrie would soon have her opportunity to prove it as we parked
outside a small complex. It was a two story apartment building, U-
shaped, with a small swimming pool and barbecue area in the middle.
Potted plants guarded it behind a short chain link fence and Carrie
used her key to get us through the gate.

There were people there, a few couples, young like Carrie, college
kids drinking beer and splashing, and they paid us little mind as we
went up the stairs and to her apartment.

"Hey Friskers..." Carrie said, opening the door which was unlocked and
being greeted immediately by a large white Persian cat. She picked him
up, so he couldn't escape, and I could hear the animal purring softly
as we entered the place.

It was nice sized, larger than it appeared from the outside, with a
kitchen and small dining room to our left and the living room in front
of us, expanding to our right. There was a hallway a dozen feet or so
directly ahead of the front door, and the bedrooms and bathroom would
have to be back there.

"Uh, hi." A girl was sitting on a sofa along the right wall, the
coffee table in front of her littered with papers and books.

She was doing homework, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. She looked a
little Goth too, with her lip pierced and pale skin, but she wasn't
dressed up for it the way Carrie was, and her long blonde hair made
her look more like a farm girl than anything else.

"Hey Beth, these are some friends of mine." Carrie turned her head
towards us for a moment. I was taking off that shirt, which probably
seemed pretty strange to the girl on the sofa.

"Okay." Beth bit her bottom lip for a second. "What happened to her?"

She was staring at the wound in my shoulder and my sling and I smiled
at Beth as Carrie just looked at me, unsure of what was going to
happen. Angela ignored everyone, walking through the apartment like
she owned it, leaving us as she went to the hallway, checking the
rooms there to make sure they were empty. Deciding where we'd lair
when dawn broke in the morning.

"Where's she going?" Beth asked, her eyes confused. "Carrie? What's
going on?"

"Shhh..." I smiled at the girl, pulling Carrie behind me as she held the
cat to her breasts. "You're very pretty, aren't you?"

I wasn't going to use anything to subdue her, this Beth person. I
wanted her to be afraid and struggle, just so Carrie would see it. I
couldn't play mind games now, it wouldn't prove anything. I walked
over slowly, holding Carrie's hand, and sat down beside Beth. I let
Carrie go, so that she stood there, close by us, watching as I reached
for Beth's head with my left hand.

"What are you doing?" Beth licked her lips. "Get away from me!"

She was moving then, her confusion giving way finally to fear as my
eyes grew red with lust. The change was happening, my disguise falling
away and the changes were subtle, but obvious to the girl, as they are
to every victim.

I took her with my good arm, pulling Beth close to me easily, even
though she was somewhat larger than me and struggling harder now. Her
legs kicked, banging the large heavy glass of the coffee table,
jarring it loose from its metal stand. Beth's hands pushed at me, and
she turned her face and opened her mouth to scream.

"Hold her legs." I told Carrie. It wasn't necessary, but it made me
happy that I could make the girl an accomplice in the murder of her
friend.

I clamped my hand across Beth's mouth, muffling her screams before
they really got started, and I was at her neck quickly then. I bit her
carefully, so that I opened her carotid neatly, rather than tearing
through it as we so often did. It would keep the mess to a minimum and
prolong the girl's life and struggles.

Carrie had let the cat go and she was watching with rapt fascination
as I pressed myself hard to her friend. She held Beth's legs tightly
too, and I think she was getting wet witnessing the death of someone
she had been so close to for so long.

I ignored the ache in my shoulder, I had to hold her and so I tore the
sling loose and used my right arm to cradle Beth while my left hand
held her head. I'd let go of her mouth, she wouldn't scream now, not
anymore. I fed deeply, swallowing the girl's blood quickly and with
hardly any of the precious fluid escaping me. What there was trickled
slowly down her shivering body, to Beth's heaving breasts as her lungs
labored to feed oxygen to less and less blood.

Beth's heart had been pounding at first, but now it was slow and
growing dim within her breast. She was sleeping, her brain deprived of
enough air to keep her awake. But she was alive, barely, and dreaming
perhaps.

"Drink from her now..." I told Carrie, grabbing the girl by the hair,
neither roughly, nor gently, but enough so that she had no choice.

I pressed Carrie's human lips to the wound in Beth's neck, urging her
to suck and swallow the blood. It wouldn't do anything for her, of
course, but it was a symbolic gesture that I liked, seeing her willing
to drink what small amount of life remained in her friend.

"Feel her heart." I took Carrie's hand, pressing it to her friend's
breast. "Can you feel it?"

"Mmm...uhmp..." Carrie nodded, still sucking softly, swallowing while I
caressed her throat.

"Drink until it stops..." I told the girl. "...Drink it all."

If Carrie would serve me, she would have to make this willing
sacrifice and murder her friend. It was the only way and she didn't
hesitate as I kissed her neck and shoulders, rewarding my new slave
with whispered praise. It was good I'd been shot, I decided,
everything happened for a reason, if I was patient enough to
understand it.



=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

end of part nine

rache696@yahoo.com
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm

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