The Vampire Lord Must Die

Ashley gently ran the tip of the blade over her fair skin. "You like this, don't you?" She whispered with as much girlish charm and womanly dominance as she could muster.

Infiltrating the manor didn't prove too difficult. Ashley made intricate plans, relying on stealth and the element of surprise to reach her target, but decided to enter through the front gate instead. Pff... men. Revealing clothes, sincere smiles, a few tactical hair-stroking gestures - and the guards let her through, mistaking the partial armor and colorful phaseblades in her bag for tools of pleasure.

The fat man gulped. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Ashley stepped closer, still toying with the blade over her forearm.

Vampirism wasn't among Ashley's favorite nightmare deformations. Instead of attractive, albeit troubled, eternally youthful beings - as popular culture suggested - most vampires were lecherous old men. The protruding canines definitely don't make them any sexier.

Most vampires belonged to one of two classifications: energy vampires, feeding through psychological means, and blood vampires, who required primal lifeforces for sustenance. Those who had expertise in both, and exhibited greater control over their urges, quickly rose to leadership positions. Unfortunately, the ability for greater control allowed them to master delayed gratification - and thus be able to commit the most thought-out, heinous and depraved of acts.

Ashley inched closer, her voice imbued with a melodious rhythm. "Have you been a bad boy, Lord Willems?"

"Oh yes, I have been very bad."

The vampire lord didn't have to feign being bad. Maeve confirmed he's the reason behind all the drained bodies turning up lately. 'Clogging up the channels,' she said. He did, however, feign being a boy. Despite all naïveté killed off and replaced by cynicism - and worse - the addiction to pleasure dictated a necessity to reach for and deplete even more of that ever-dwindling supply of feeling alive.

Ashley touched and caressed the fingertips of the vampire lord's reaching hand. Don't throw up. Smile! Don't throw up!

Suppressing her disgust - with limited success - Ashley placed the vampire's hand on her hip. Her face showed wildly conflicting emotions, but the vampire lord was preoccupied with ogling and his own lecherous thoughts to notice any of it.

Smile! ...How the hell can someone get so fat?! The vampire lord's appearance matched his obnoxious personality: the morbidly obese body had different kinds of skin diseases all over it.

Inching even closer required great discipline and mental effort from Ashley. She endured the empty grin and exploring hand on her hip, and let the tip of her blade dance over to the vampire lord's arm. The green phaseblade cycled through the colors of the rainbow, and settled on a crimson shade of red.

"Do you like that?"

"Oh, yes..."

The tip of the blade danced provocatively back and forth, edging from forearm to upper arm, the shoulder, and finally upper chest area. The proximity was almost all Ashley could bear. She thought about what other unsuspecting girls had to endure. I doubt he stops where even seasoned whores and pleasure priestesses draw the line... all those drained bodies... Or should I just be happy it's not little boys he likes?

The lord's other hand joined in on the exploration, and Ashley knew she had to act. The heart? What if I miss because of all that fat?

For a moment Ashley's face turned expressionless, just before a long playful motion extended into a deadly slashing one. If the vampire lord sensed the moment of danger, he certainly failed to act: Ashley cut his throat from ear to ear.

The gurgling started; flailing arms smeared sweat all over her skin, and she pressed down on the doubly red dagger until it all stopped.

Ashley climbed down from atop the half-naked body. I need a shower. Now! The feeling of uncleanliness was matched by a feeling of intense relief. A split-second of introspection revealed that the relief wasn't just her own; the vampire lord's death ended the aura of his draining presence and made the reality of the realm a little lighter. Egomaniacs rarely recover from the loss of a fundamental ego-image... Good riddance.

Ashley put feelings aside as possible escape routes flashed through her mind. Guards I can avoid, but if there are other vampires sensitive to wide energy flows, they might sound the alarm. She looked down on herself, covered in blood. Ugh... Or they might sense the smell of blood.

I have to get out now! Prioritizing an urgent escape over a careful, planned one, Ashley opened the bedroom door, and slid into the twilight with nimble steps.

[The original with better formatting is at DawnHarshaw.com. Thank you for reading!]