First Night in Hell

A/N: Just a short story my fingers shot out the other day. It could become a full book, but it probably won't.

*****

I'm going to marry another catholic. I am going to be a loving, supportive wife. I'm going to bare him many children. My life was decided for me the moment I came out of my mother's womb with one of my own.

In fact, I've been engaged to a nice young man, an heir to a large estate and much out of my father's social circle. It's a miracle. I should be honored. I don't even know the man. There's not much I can do against it. Running away would be foolish. Spitting in his face would dishonor my family. This is my life, and there is only one thing I can do about it.

I can sully his prize.

That is why I am here, in a putrid tavern on the wrong side of town, to get laid. I do not particularly care who gets the honor of taking my virginity. Men have been grabby all night, mostly because I'm wearing a short skirt. I feel almost naked with my ankles showing, the fabric swishing over my calves. Most of them have been too intimidated to actually converse with me. A pity, I may arrive at the altar unscathed.

Finally, a man comes up beside me. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, but I smile past the pungent odor. He's not unattractive, but he is dirty. Hopefully we can get this done and over with.

"Why hello there, handsome," I say, pushing my body close to him.

"What's pretty little thing like you doing in a dump like this, eh?"

Even as he speaks, his grubby hand grabs my arm, pulling me closer. The front of my dress is almost pressed against his jerkin. I put my hand on his chest and lean in next to his ear.

"I'm looking for a man to make a woman out of me."

I pull back a little, and he's grinning, showing teeth on the edge of rot. I want to gag, but I take it. I can do this. I can spite him. He'll never even know.

"I know just the place."

That's that. The pleasantries are over. He pulls me by my hand out of the tavern, other men whooping and hollering, asking for a share. None of them actually follow us, and we go off into the misty night. He tugs and pulls me further and further away from the tavern. My heart starts to pound, and I swear the shadows move.

"I think this is far enough," I venture.

"Alright, if you're so keen for it, here's as good a place as any."

He pushes me up against a wall, ripping at the bodice of my dress. I wince, wondering how I'll make it home in such a state. He's rough, and I endure it. I'm doing this one thing for myself, I mustn't let pain get in the way. I help him undo his trousers, and his dirty cock almost springs to life between us. He gathers my skirts in his hands, pushing them up and pinning me against the wall with them. He makes me spread my legs, and then there is warmth and pain between my legs.

Endure, I can endure.

I'll just imagine my happy place. Yes, that's it. The rolling waves of the ocean, its borders endless and sounds soothing. Instead of the waves crashing on the rocks, I hear the sound of flesh slapping on flesh. His arms are braced terribly on either side of me, and he's grunting like a mad man. Besides that first bout of pain, this is really boring. I decide to take in the scenery. Nothing much there, just darkness.

And then something more than darkness, a moving shadow. As I watch, first glowing eyes appear, and then a full-toothed smile. It's disconcerting, but mesmerizing. The shadow grows nearer, the man in front of me thrusting and making my body bounce, none-the-wiser.

Still, all I can make up of the approaching phantom are the seeming glowing eyes and large smile. Even as I watch, the phantom's canines elongate. He's right behind my lover, looking me in the eye. I can feel him pulsing in my womb, but I pay it no mind. Dark hands rip the man from on top of me, and the phantom drags him back a foot or two, that sharp mouth clamped on his neck and suckiling. The man groans, this time in pain, and blood gurgles from the mouth on his neck. Ruby eyes stare at me from a dark face.

I don't utter a sound, entranced with the sight before me. A creature of the night murdering the man who took my virginity. I'm half naked. The world is dark and dank. One of my breasts is hanging out, and my lover looks paler and paler. Soon he goes limp, and the phantom drops him to the ground, stalking towards me on silent steps. He's tall, and obviously a he, wearing a long, black cloak. Now that he's so close, I can see the light in his eyes reflected on his pale face and black hair hanging haphazardly to his chin.

I stand here silently as his ruby eyes drag over my form, his tongue cleaning sharp teeth.

"You're a vampire," I state, and even to myself my voice sounds like it's mentioning the weather.

A pale hand reaches up and brushes the hair away from my neck. While the other man held me with his outright brawn, this one keeps me still with some otherworldly power. It's not fear. I'm not sure what it is, but I can't stop looking into his eyes.

"I am," he answers, his voice slow and melodic. "You're not scared."

"Should I be? You did just eat."

His hand brushes down my shoulder and then over my exposed breast. His touch is gentle and sure, much more of what I expected from a lover than the rough handling of before. I can feel claws snagging at my skin, and then on my dress as his hand travels lower.

"You know nothing about vampires.We are ravenous."

His words come out with a seductive hiss. His hand slides up under my skirt, and I feel a finger brush over my newly christened womanhood. He pulls his hand out, his fingers glistening red in the dim light. He groans lewdly and sucks the blood off his finger, his eyes rolling back in bliss.

"Are you going to drain me like you did him?" I dare ask.

He presses closer, his nose so close to my throat I can feel his breath. His voice is a barely contained groan.

"Yes."

I feel teeth scrape against my throat, and some base instinct in me has me tilt my head back, baring more to him. A beat passes, and then two, and something cold and wet slides against my skin.

"I am a spawn of hell, why are you not afraid?" he mutters, his lips moving against my throat.

"I'm a child of heaven, why are you not afraid?"

With a dark chuckle, he pulls back. Strong, cold hands wrap around my wrists and guide my limp arms above me, where one hand pins them to the wall.

"No true child of heaven could stand my presence. Tell me, little angel, do you want my curse?"

"I don't know."

He licks up my throat and then whispers in my ear. "Either way I am going to drink your succulent blood. So tell me, is this your last day on earth or your first night in hell?"

My decision is swift and sure as I bare my neck for him again. "Take me to hell."