Myths & Legends Ch. 1

The lights flickered and Yvonne wondered if the power would go before she could finish reading her magazines. The storm outside was a particularly violent one, with the rain pounding almost horizontally against the windows. Lightning and thunder occurred just about simultaneously, and the wind howled like a soul in torment. Though the sun had gone down just minutes ago the sky was already pitch black, an angry black that kept all but the bravest indoors.

But, the possible loss of electricity aside, she really didn't care about the storm. In fact, it supplied the perfect mood for what she was reading. What could be better when reading horror magazines than a raging thunderstorm in the background, shrouding everything in its eerie darkness? She couldn't have asked for a better night to read her favorite magazines, provided, of course, she didn't lose her reading light.

Earlier in the day she'd found an old box of magazines in the attic, and had dusted off the slightly mildew-smelling carton and brought it downstairs, where she found to her unbounded joy that it contained a treasure trove of old CREEPY and EERIE magazines from the 1960's, all still in clean, readable condition. She waited all day for her chance to snuggle up under her blanket and return to her childhood days of delightful chills. And now, amidst this howling storm, she finally had that chance.

Wearing only a flimsy teddy and her most comfortable panties, she sat in her bed, plopping a pile of magazines beside her on the blanket. She pulled her knees up and then brought the blanket up over her knees and breasts and tucked it under her arms, forming a pocket in which to nestle the magazines as she read them. Beside her, on her nightstand, sat a large glass of wine, to be slowly sipped and enjoyed, warming her from the inside as she hoped the stories and the storm would chill her from without.

Snuggled and comfy, she gleefully searched through the pile of magazines at her side. She came upon one with a cover depicting a group of obviously irate villagers surrounding a coffin who's occupant was anything but dead. From the fangs in his mouth he was obviously a vampire, and the villagers were pounding a stake into his evil heart. Vampire stories had long been a favorite of hers, so she decided this particular magazine was a good place to start her night of delicious chills.

The first two stories were not vampire stories, but were just as good, dealing with zombies and a haunted house. Then she came to the vampire story. She read it completely through and enjoyed it so much she went back and read it again. The twist ending was a surprise the first time around, due to the fact that she hadn't read the story in over 20 years, but not so the second time ...though the story was still a joy to read even with the surprise gone.

Sighing, her spine tingling, she moved on to the next story. It apparently dealt with an Egyptologist who could occupy the bodies of various mummies and use them to kill his rivals. It seemed a novel idea and she began to read with great enthusiasm, stopping briefly to sip her wine.

She never got to enjoy that story, at least not at that moment, because it was then that a particularly nasty bolt of lightning seared through the sky and crackled to the earth a very short distance from her home. Her lights flickered twice, dimmed...and died.

"Dammit!" she protested, "That story was getting good! Everything was so perfect up until then."

She leaned over to the nightstand and groped on its bottom shelf, retrieving the flashlight that she kept there for just such emergencies. As she briefly fumbled to find the switch, lightning flared outside, lighting up her room like a strobe light, bleaching the color from every object in her room and turning everything black and white...just like in the magazines. When she found the flashlight's switch, she flipped it on and made a fruitless attempt to read her magazine by flashlight beam.

"Shit!" she hissed, taking a swig of wine, "Now what? I can't do anything until the electric is back on."

"Maybe I can be of some assistance in that area," came a deep voice from the foot of her bed, "I have been known to keep boredom away from women on many an occasion such as this."

Her wine glass fell to the floor as both of Yvonne's hands gripped the flashlight fiercely and directed the beam shakily toward that booming voice. The beam danced on the figure as her hands shook violently. The dark figure's eyes reflected the beam eerily as did two tiny points slightly below them.

The man revealed in the flashlight's mediocre light was tall and muscular, wearing only a mid-length raincoat. His face was hard and cruel with eyes that chilled Yvonne to the marrow of her bones. His lips were blood red and his almost hairless chest dripped with rain despite the protective raincoat. Yvonne followed the water droplets with her eyes as they trickled down his chest, along his belly and then lower still. When she saw the end point of those tiny droplets, she gasped loudly. The man smiled a completely evil smile.

"I told you....I've given many women reason to sigh and moan over the centuries. You will be no exception, my dear. Of that you can be sure."

Yvonne still stared at the man's dripping crotch. His naked, rain-drenched penis was considerably larger than any she'd ever seen, and quite erect, though she could tell it wasn't completely. It was apparent, however, that its increasing elevation indicated that full engorgement was most certainly its intention. Her uninvited guest reached down and stroked himself, being obvious about it for Yvonne's benefit. She screamed and threw the flashlight at him so quickly she thought sure it would catch him by surprise and crush his skull. But his hand shot up and caught it long before it came anywhere near his head, and he easily crushed it into useless metal and plastic.

He laughed and shook his head, tossing the now useless object over his shoulder. About the only effect her misguided attempt at injuring him had, was that his raincoat, which had only been draped over him, slipped to the floor, revealing her intruder in all his naked, dripping glory, each flash of lightning searing his unclothed maleness into Yvonne's brain. She tried to distract him while she desperately groped for another way out of her situation.

"What do you mean, 'over the centuries'? Are you some kind of psycho?"

Again he laughed, and then with speed even more blurring than when he trashed her flashlight, he was up on the bed, on top of her, on his knees with his chest pushing her knees up against her own chest...and his face mere inches from hers.

"Surely a woman of your....tastes...," He pushed aside her magazines, picking up the one with the vampire staking cover, and scowled. "Surely a woman of your tastes must know what I am."

"Oh, no, you may be a nutcase, but you're no vampire," she hissed through defiant lips.

"And why do you doubt me?" he snarled in her face.

"Because," she said, more to assure herself than him, "a vampire must be invited into one's home before he can enter it."

At that, he bolted upright, threw his head back and howled with laughter. He laughed so hard tears streamed down his face, reminding Yvonne of the droplets on his huge member.

"My dear, you mustn't believe all the crap you read. In truth, we vampires can come and go as we please. Oh, the daylight thing is true, but I can go into anyone's home any time I choose. Hence, I am here....because this is where I choose to be.......with you. And while we're talking myths, let's briefly touch on the wooden stake thing...."

"Please don't try to tell me a stake in your miserable heart wouldn't kill you," Yvonne interrupted.

"Oh, no, my dear.....a stake in my heart would surely kill me....but, think about it. Wouldn't a stake, of wood or any other material, thrust into your own heart kill you as well? Really, these legends about us are unbelievably ridiculous! But, here, let me show you proof."

He shoved one of his hands directly in front of her face, and she watched with wide eyes as his fingernails extended from his fingertips and became slightly curved and deadly sharp.

"Would you like more?" he laughed.

He shook his hand and showed it to her again. It had returned to normal.

Then he leaned to push his cruel face into hers. She tried to back up but the back of her head was already against the headboard. She watched with staring eyes as he opened his mouth and his two canine teeth extended to almost an inch in length before retracting back to their normal size. Now she believed. And her unwelcome visitor smiled contentedly as her eyes appeared to fight back tears of dread and her lips quivered.

Now he felt his power over her, and knew she was his for the taking. He leaned back to look his prize up and down, frowning at the blanket which covered all but her shoulders and head.

"Your name is Yvonne, is it not?" he asked, on hand slowly stroking the side of her face.

"How did you...."

"I have learned much in four hundred years...many things you couldn't possibly understand. Let's just say I know many things, your name among them." He leaned back into her, holding one side of her face with one hand and slowly licking the other side of her face from chin to earlobe. He then licked down to her neck, which he sucked and nipped for a moment or two. Yvonne wondered if he was going to kill her then and there, but he stopped short and sat up quickly, smiling a sarcastic grin and staring directly into her eyes.

"But, where are my manners? If I'm going to make you my sex toy for the evening and then drain the life from you, the least I can do is introduce myself. Please, Yvonne, forgive me. My name is Phillipe du Morant....of the Lyon du Morants, though the line died out over a hundred years ago. I am the sole surviving member of the du Morant family, but, who knows, maybe tonight I will produce an heir. What do you think, Yvonne....would you mind giving me an heir tonight?"

"If you haven't sired a child by now, Phillipe, what makes you think it'll happen tonight?"

"Ahhh....because, my dear, I have very special plans for you. I am going to fill every inch of you with my seed and then we shall see. By the end of the night, I will be able to tell if my seed has taken root in your womb or not, and if so I will let you live, to give me my son. However, if you do not become the mother of my heir, then I will feed off you as planned, and your life, sadly, will be over. Oh, and likewise if you should disobey any request....or should I say command...I make, I will see that your death is slow and painful. But if you do everything I say, I will kill you quickly at the end of the night, or...who knows.....maybe I'll just take enough of your blood to satisfy myself for tonight, and then return to you night after night after night to use your body for my pleasures and then satisfy my thirst again. Despite all those fairy tales you seem to believe, I could come for your blood every single night for many years and while you might become tired and weak you would not die, but stay alive to satisfy all my needs for a long, long time. Now, wouldn't that be fun, Yvonne?"

In the darkness she could only see his glowing red eyes, except during lightning flashes when his already hard face looked more twisted and evil than ever. He stroked and licked her face again, and as if to lend support to his words, he allowed his fangs to slide lightly down her cheek, causing tiny red scratches to mar her lovely face.

"Now, Yvonne," he said as a lightning flash illuminated his cruel features, "shall we begin?"

And his eager hands touched her suddenly shivering body...

To Be Continued...