Vampires of South Side Chicago

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The life and times of a Vampire Gangster.
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Samuelx
Samuelx
2,118 Followers

"I hate you turn-bloods, you have no respect for anyone or anything, I'm going to kick your ass," said the bozo in the stylish dark gray Brooks Brothers suit, right before he came for me, flanked by three of his suited fang-mates. The bozo in question happened to be Russell Cores, founder and CEO of Core Villages, and a heavy hitter in Canadian Vampire society. Stocky, red-haired and perpetually angry, he didn't take lightly to my calling him and his goons a bunch of overdressed punks, and that's a crying shame.

How did I get into this mess, you may ask? Oh, innocently enough, I assure you. A few minutes before this mishap, I walked into the Sabretooth, a ritzy bar located not far from downtown Toronto, intent on getting a drink. The alcoholic kind. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Vampires can and do consume alcohol, and large amounts of it. It is harder for us to get drunk because of our inhumanly strong physiology, which renders us immune to the effects of aging, toxins, poisons and countless other things.

After a night spent roaming the streets of metropolitan Toronto, I was just looking for a place to chill and have a drink. It was barely eleven o'clock and much too early for an adventurous sort like myself to head home. I walked into this bar, drawn as I was by the presence of my fellow Undead, and a quartet of loud, well-dressed creeps just had to make my night more sour than it had to be. I called them out on their bullshit, and now we're here, about to get into it...

"Cry me a river," I replied, as I pulled out my Sig Sauer Pistol, and aimed it at Russell, and for some reason, he found it quite funny. I haven't been one of the Undead for too long, and have yet to let go of certain habits I had in my mortal life. I'm originally from the South Side of Chicago, Illinois. While hiding out in the City of Toronto, Ontario, I ran into a gorgeous lady named Nasra who turned out to be much more than she seemed. Long story short? She bit me and I became a Vampire.

"Oh, look at that, this filthy turn-blood boy has no idea that bullets don't do shit to our kind, what an absolute idiot," Russell snorted, and he actually turned to his buddies, who laughed along with him, flashing shiny white fangs. That does it. In mortal life, just like in my newfound Vampire existence, I can't seem to escape the disdain and disrespect that a lot of old white guys seem programmed to show toward young men of the African American persuasion.

"Well, shmucks, this boy is the MAN who killed you," I replied, and I squeezed the trigger, firing a silver-bullet right into Russell's forehead. The creep had the time to look surprised before he fell to the floor, and turned into dust. Our kind disintegrate after we die for the second time. With us, the second death is the final one, not the first. Russell's buddies glared at me, astonished by what I'd just done.

"Fuck, that punk just killed Russell!" The creeps stood there, gawking as though I'd just done the impossible. I guess they thought that their boss man Russell was invincible or something. He probably thought himself invincible, right until I showed him he wasn't. I took advantage of their shock to high-tail it out of there. They gave chase, but I hopped into an Uber that was just around the corner, and got away. Of course, my troubles were just beginning...

In case you're wondering who in hell this is, the name is Damon Clayton. A six-foot-two, beefy but solid brother with dark brown skin, a stylish Afro and a slick goatee, that's me. People say I look like rapper/actor Ice Cube, from his N.W.A. days, only taller. I was born in Chicago, and the winds of fortune brought me to the City of Toronto, Ontario. Adjusting both to a new country and my new existence as a Vampire hasn't been easy. One thing has remained the same, overall. My penchant for getting into trouble and pissing off the wrong people...

Returning to my rented apartment in the environs of Mississauga was out of the question. I'd just killed a Vampire, and not just any Vampire, one of the heavy hitters in town. I recognized Russell Cores because the schmuck has his picture on billboards all over town, and he's even been in the newspaper, next to the Premier of Ontario, and the Mayor of Toronto. Building condos all over Ontario has made him somewhat of an important person. Now he's toast, and his buddies are understandably upset...

"Hey, Nasra, open up, it's me, Damon," I said, as I knocked on her door. Dawn was thirty five minutes away, and I was already feeling the effects of the sun on my skin, even in the pre-dawn darkness. Kind of like ripples of energy, only the kind that scares the hell out of me. I'm a creature of the night, and there's nothing I fear more than the rising sun. I sniffed the air, and smiled, for I knew the lady of the house was on her way...

"What in hell do you want now, Damon?" came a loud feminine voice, as the door swung open. A vision of absolute beauty greeted me. Nasra Osman is six feet tall, curvy and sexy, with light brown skin and short, curly dark hair. I met this fanged Somali cutie during my first week in the City of Toronto. I chased her and got more than I bargained for. Nasra's almond-shaped golden brown eyes looked me up and down. Her pink tongue raked itself against her sharp fangs. When she did that, I felt a thrill down below, if you know what I mean.

The Somali Vampire lady looked so good in her black tank top and blue sweatpants that I held my breath. Alright, I don't breathe anymore, to be perfectly honest, but you get the idea. Nasra is a total babe. I was really hoping that Nasra was in a good mood, because if she shut me out, I was going to be doing my personal imitation of that scene from Raiders Of The Lost Ark where the Nazis meet their doom. Yeah, the flaming one at the end.

"Rough night, babe, just need a place to crash during the day," I replied, smiling at Nasra like this was just a social call. Nasra looked me up and down, and I could tell that she still had doubts about me, but she nevertheless opened the door. I thanked her profusely and stepped inside, into the cool darkness of her home and away from the rapidly approaching rays of the dawn. Safe, for the moment anyways...

"Alright, Damon, what on earth did you do now?" Nasra asked, and before I could answer, she walked through the living room and into the kitchen. Opening her fridge, Nasra took out a blood pack, and bit into it. I watched her tear the clear plastic with her fangs, and then gulp down its bloody contents. Cold blood appeals to me as much as watching wet paint try, I thought, disgusted, but I flashed Nasra my most winning smile.

"Alright, babe, this bozo came at me at a bar and long story short, I dusted him," I replied casually, as though I was discussing the weather or something. Nasra raised an eyebrow, then tossed me a blood pack. Out of politeness, and because I didn't want her to kick me out, I bit into it. Twenty four hours earlier, I fed on a random guy who approached me at the subway station, looking for sex and adventure, and drawn by my chocolate good looks and 'air of danger,' as he put it.

"Good stuff, eh, Damon? I have this supplier who brings me Grade-A fresh human blood from the blood bank three times a week," Nasra said, smiling with pleasure as she drained a second blood pack. It saddens me that a Vampire as beautiful and as obviously strong as Nasra is living off of blood packs. In our world, there are very few rules. In fact, come to think of it, there are only three. We must not expose ourselves to the human world. We must not kill our own kind. And the third rule states that those who violate the other two must be slain.

"Great stuff," I replied, lying through my teeth while smiling pleasantly at Nasra. Alright, I know that I broke the rules by feeding on that creep at the subway, but he had it coming. Don't worry, I disposed of his body by stuffing him in the trunk of a stolen car, driving him to the incinerator and burning him to ash. I'm not careless enough to leave his body where people might find it, or worse, leave him alone long enough for him to reanimate. I'm smarter than that.

"Hmm, Damon, you're practically glowing, I kind of like it," Nasra said, leaning back on her couch, and she flashed me that coy, come-hither smile that females always give a brother when they want some play. Becoming one of the Undead hasn't lessened my desire for hot sex or danger, and Nasra was oozing both out of every pore. Smiling, I went to her, and we kissed passionately before getting down to business, as they say...

"Don't worry, sweets, I'll take care of you," I replied, as I feasted my eyes on Nasra's gorgeous body. Voluptuous and sexy, her golden brown skin practically glowing, Nasra was hotness and sensuality personified and I yearned for her. I kissed her lips, and caressed her breasts, and my hungry mouth found its way to the space between her legs. Spreading Nasra's thick thighs wide open, I inhaled her scent, and then went to town on her. I worked my tongue and fingers into that pussy with the enthusiasm of an explorer in uncharted territory...

"Hmmm, Damon, I knew I turned you for a reason," Nasra cooed softly, and I continued to eat her out, my face firmly planted in her wet, practically pulsating pussy. I teased Nasra by sticking my tongue out and spearing her clitoris with it, while probing inside her pussy with my fingers. Undead flesh is more durable and also more sensitive than that of a mortal, so you had better believe that I drove Nasra insane...in the best way possible. Her squeals turned into happy moans, and I worked my magic on her until she came.

"You chose wisely," I replied, and I then propped Nasra on all fours, and admired her thick round ass. I've always loved the female posterior, in all hues, and I saw no reason to change now that I am one of the Undead. I kissed Nasra's ass, causing her to giggle. Spreading her ass cheeks wide open, I slid my tongue inside. Nasra's giggles turned into happy moans as I worked my tongue deep inside her asshole. I love the taste of female ass and don't apologize for it. Nasra's moans and squeals filled the house. Trust me, she hadn't felt anything yet...

"Hmm, now it's my turn," Nasra said, a few moments later. I lay on my back, and watched as she pounced on me, eyes crimson now, filled with desire and danger. My hands caressed Nasra's feral, beautiful face, and cupped her breasts. Nasra batted my hands away and grabbed my dick, stroking it none too gently. I watched as she leaned over and took me into her mouth. Now we're getting somewhere, I thought happily. Nasra sucked my dick and polished my balls with that wicked tongue of hers, and I was soon on cloud nine...

"Dammit, I've missed this ass," I said, as Nasra got on all fours, shook her big brown ass at me, then flashed me a fanged smile. I saw impatience mixed with lust in those eyes. I caressed her big ass, and Nasra purred like a kitten and pressed that ass against my groin. Without further ado, I rubbed my long, hard dick against Nasra's butt, and pushed it into her. Nasra's pussy gripped my dick tightly as I began to fuck her. I went to town on her, smacking her ass and pulling her hair while fucking her. Nasra's passionate screams mingled with my own, and we fucked till exhaustion claimed us...

"Welcome home, lover," Nasra said to me, as we lay, sweaty and happy, on her living room carpet. Nasra and I spent the day watching TV, drinking blood packs, talking, and having sex. I have always been a wanderer, and a loner, long before I became one of the Undead. I never knew my parents, and grew up in foster care. I was raised by the streets, and truth be told, I was a killer long before I grew fangs. I don't let people get close to me, but Nasra and I have a bond, of sorts. Come nightfall, I thanked the lady for her hospitality, and then headed out.

"I'm going to leave town for a bit, babe, but I'll keep in touch," I said to Nasra, as I stood on her doorstep. Nasra kissed me, and flashed me a sad little smile before shaking her head. I think we both know that I'm lying. Trouble follows me, it's been that way ever since my earliest days in Chicago. The odds of my getting out of Toronto aren't exactly good. I know that Russell Cores band of Vampires are out there, and they want my head. I'm not going to drag Nasra into my mess, though. The Vampire lady from Somalia gave me a second chance at life when she made me one of the Undead. I'll make the most of the time I've got left. Wish me luck...

Samuelx
Samuelx
2,118 Followers
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