Bathory Blood

Every time twenty-one-year-old Goth Glenda (Glen) Vanish tried to get intimate with Tiffany, the visions would return. Tiffany was gorgeous, nineteen, caramel skin, long, silky black hair, and they'd been dating for two months. Things were going great, and they'd spent all of their free time together. The past week, however, Glen had been having visions of an older lady of indeterminate age, with a pallidness to her skin that contrasted her ethereal beauty. Instead of Tiffany's deep, brown eyes, she would be staring into the cold, dead blue eyes of Erzsebet Bathory. “Not again.” Tiffany groaned as Glen sat up in bed, her head in her hands, trying to clear the vision that so irritated her. “Did you get rid of everything?” Tiffany was referring to all the Erzsebet Bathory posters and novels Glen had accrued over the years. “You know I did,” Glen still had a secret stash, but it was insignificant and well hidden. There was no reason Glen could think of why she should be having such vivid visions. “I'm sorry, Tiffany, I don't know what's wrong with me.” “Maybe you just don't like me anymore?” “No!” Glen shot around and grabbed Tiffany's shoulders. Glen had natural wavy red hair, worn long, which often acted as a stark contrast to her usual choice of black and purple clothing. Tonight was no exception. Glen had dressed to impress in a stunning black, knee-length, latex dress, black fishnet stockings, and thigh-length, high gloss lace-up boots. It was her way of saying sorry to Tiffany. She'd even smoked some weed in the hope that the visions didn't return. That was the plan, at least. “This is me, not you.” “That old cliche? Come on, Glen, I thought we were deeper than that?” Tiffany shuffled away, breaking their connection. “Oh, we so are,” Glen reached for Tiffany's hand to reassure her, but she flinched away and moved off the bed. “Tiffany, come on. Stop with this self-absorbed crap, please!” Knowing she'd said the wrong thing, Glen could only watch as Tiffany stormed out. “I'll call you later.” The door slammed shut, and Glen was left alone in the studio flat for which she could barely manage to pay the rent. All of the rooms were in one large open-plan space with bare brick painted in matt black. Even the bathroom wasn't a room unto itself but, instead, two tiled walls which stopped two feet short of the ceiling separated it from the rest of the flat. Various horror-themed posters covered the walls, but even a cursory glance would reveal that Glen had a penchant for vampires. A bookcase in another corner of the room further proved this with volume after volume dedicated to her favorite subject. So, she kinda got it. The visions and dreams were all a part of her obsession. That was all. All she had to do was ride it out, and all would be hunky-dory. Hoping to stave off any more psychotic episodes, Glen rolled a joint, smoking it while she undressed, and then climbed into bed. As it was the weekend tomorrow, Glen had to be up early for work at the clinic. Cleaning there on the weekend was the thin line between homelessness and having a roof over her head at the moment, so she couldn't afford to be late again. Glen drew on the joint until she had coughed herself hoarse, and she was pretty stoned. Hoping it would be enough to give her a good night's sleep tonight, she stubbed out the remainder in an ashtray next to her bed and closed her eyes. Like whispers in the wind, Erzsebet Bathory would occasionally snatch words out of the air. It was infrequent but enough to decipher them into sentences and determine things like the year and the weather. She knew, for example, that she had been imprisoned for over four hundred years, and, ever since humankind had devised the technology to do so, she'd been kept in a permanent death-like sleep. Or, what the humans called, a coma. It was deemed safer for everybody, and they were correct. Should Erzsebet ever get loose, she would s*******r them all, and then she wouldn't stop until she had drained the blood of every human being on the planet. Well, it would be no less than deserved. It was, after all, precisely what they had been doing to her for the past four hundred years. Even Erzsebet recognized the irony in that the vampire race, who once farmed human beings for blood, was slaughtered by their livestock. As a final insult, the sole remaining blue blood kept as little better than a cow - her blood milked from her constantly for humanity's pleasure. The blood-giving, as it was first termed, had begun as a way for a vampire to gift a particular human for their services. A few drops of vampire blood in the human's nightly warmed water would create euphoria and cure any ailment they may have been suffering. A few drops more, and the human would feel as though they were a vampire themselves. As the years went by, it was discovered that mixing the blood directly into the human's bloodstream, like pouring directly into a wound, created an even more substantial effect with increased longevity. Some humans reported 'being like the gods' for as long as eight hours. The blood-mixing was interesting to vampires as there had never been a case of impregnation with humans. It was later discovered that, rather than the blood mixing and the humans becoming actual vampires for a period, vampire blood acted more like a hormone within humans. The increased strength, heightened sensitivities, and even s****l magnetism afforded by consuming vampire blood made it addictive to humans. So addictive that many humans craved it, and it was a craving that soon turned to designs on power. It pained Erzsebet deeply to think of it. She preferred to conserve her mental energy for something more productive. She always had hope, after all. They may keep her in perpetual sleep, but she was a vampire, and she would never surrender to the fate humans had designed for her. The powers of a vampire's consciousness are very little understood, even by the vampire themselves. The early vampire ruling class often practiced astral projection before becoming lazy, with humans doing everything for them. As one of the later vampires, Erzsebet was just as guilty of neglecting certain things as everyone else. With four hundred years in a coma, she had little else but to practice the arts of the consciousness. Humans have such weak minds and, despite the vault-like conditions they kept her in, Erzsebet had managed to connect with many throughout her incarceration. Unfortunately, getting good at something takes practice, and, as it turned out, consciousness manipulation takes a very long time. Recently, however, Erzsebet had felt a definite shift in her power and was able to connect with several nearby minds. They all worked within the clinic in some capacity. There was Mike, the security guard, who hated his wife and beat her regularly while fantasizing about killing her one day. There was Andrew, the nurse who changed her blood bag, which was made from a mixture of animals and was something Erzsebet found abhorrent. She could never stomach it orally. Andrew was a simple man with a simple job, given to him because he was too simple to ask questions. Erzsebet knew that he believed the clinic was helping her. And then, there was Glen, with her flowing red hair, pallid skin, and cute freckles. Erzsebet had always preferred female company, and, as humans were initially bred to serve vampires, she had lain with many. Glen was undoubtedly more than interesting enough to take to her bed. Erzsebet visited her in dreams, dreams that were becoming stronger with each interaction. The part Glen was going to play in Erzsebet's bid for freedom was obvious; Glen was going to be her guide in the modern world, her confidant, and her lover. Then, when her usefulness was at an end, she would sacrifice herself for her mistress, perhaps in some tortuous pleasure, or maybe a bloodletting. Ah, the good old days when a human could be hung and drawn. The dreams were created from the ground up using a mixture of the victim's subconscious thoughts and Erzsebet's creative talents. There was a basic story that occurred in a dream-world called Transylvania. Not incredibly creative, but a lot was taken from Glen's subconscious mind, and this is what she liked to dream. Within the dream, much like in the early days, there was a livestock farm, or what humans might call a 'village', overseen by a vampire lord (Erzsebet) in a giant castle. Glen was playing the part of a peasant spinster secretly in love with her lord and master. There were a few versions of the dream that Erzsebet replayed. Like all peasants in this dream-world, Glen lived in a hovel. And, because she was yet to be married, she lived alone on the village's outskirts. Most of the villagers secretly hoped that their mistress, Erzsebet, would take her one night, but she never did. Although some may have considered it, none would have dared gossip that the mistress loved Glen too. In this particular story, as Glen was sleeping on the straw in her cot, three men from the village had gotten it into their dirty minds that Glen was a virgin who was in dire need of deflowering. Not only that, but they were also just the men for the job. Bill, Ben, and Bob (they are mere bit players) could barely conceal their excitement as they were about to get their grubby, smelly hands on Glen, who, unaware of their presence in her home, slept like a baby. The first thing Glen knew, Bill had his hands over her mouth to stifle her screams, and Ben had her gown lifted, trying to push a finger inside her. “Lick it, make her ready,” volunteered Bob, the brains of the group and indeed the guy who had planned this whole thing. “We got a long night ahead,” chuckled Bill, who was looking forward to all the dirty things his frigid wife never would. In the old days, when the Vampire lord demanded a sacrifice from the village, lots would be drawn, and the lucky person to be sacrificed would leave their window open, inviting their master in to feed. Villagers knew well to keep their doors and windows locked, but there were always those who would forget or may have even just wanted to give themselves to their master. It never bothered Erzsebet whether the victim was a male or female, but the younger, the better was more often the advice. When the rapists broke in, they neglected to close the window behind them, and, as they prepared Glen for s*x, they had no idea Erzsebet, dressed in her customary long, black cape, was behind them until she sunk her teeth into Bill's neck. Vampires were far stronger than men, and handling three would be no problem for Erzsebet, especially as one of them also now lay dying on the floor, blood spurting from his neck. Ordinarily, Erzsebet would never be so wasteful and would be guzzling his blood, but this was a dream, and the blood wasn't real. Erzsebet refused to include extra-long incisors in the dream as Glen expected. It seemed that an entire vampire folklore had been written that just wasn't true. Yes, a vampire's incisors were generally slightly more elongated, but not so much it was overly noticeable. The main thing with vampire's teeth was that they were far more robust than a human's. Couple the extra toughness with a more powerful jaw, which differentiated the vampire from a human, not exaggerated elongated incisors. Erzsebet wondered how much had been changed and rewritten? Bob wasn't as smart as Ben. If he were, he would have run for the door too. Instead, he cowered in fear, shrinking against the wall, perhaps in the hope that it would eat him up. Glaring up at her in abject terror, Bob couldn't muster what it would take to fight or take flight - even with his life at stake. He closed his eyes at the moment Erzsebet encapsulated him within the folds of her cape and sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of his neck, ripping a chunk, so large blood gushed down his body, soaking his clothes. Ben had made some good ground. He, of course, knew that vampires were faster, swifter, better climbers, just better at everything really, so that explains how even with a head start, he was still terrified. Quite rightly. Erzsebet wasn't about to let him go. She had gotten ahead of him some time ago but was enjoying watching him run from her position high in the trees. Erzsebet could catch him any time she wanted to, and she did want to get back to Glen, so she ended it swiftly. For Ben, it would have felt something akin to a bullet hitting him from above. The impact was so forceful that it knocked him to the ground and into unconsciousness. Erzsebet waited for him to wake; it was always better when they were awake and living through the horror. Vampires had known forever that a human's blood was better for them when they were in fear. She was yet to learn that humans had discovered adrenochrome and that it was this that made their blood all the sweeter. For Erzsebet, she just knew it was better when her victims were terrified. Not only did the blood taste sweeter, but it also gave her something of a high. Ben woke, screamed, and then passed out. Erzsebet sighed; even in a dream, things were not always perfect. She finished him quickly and then sped to Glen's hovel. In her cot, sitting while supporting herself with her hands, Glen looked beautiful. Freshly bathed and dressed in a black and purple long, translucent silk gown which draped over one leg, revealing her milky skin. Erzsebet sat next to her and placed her hand upon Glen's thigh, feeling the warmth of it beneath her palm. Glen had everything Erzsebet looked for in a human companion. She was young, beautiful, intelligent, and had a life in her that was so interesting it would be a shame to extinguish it. So, as Erzsebet stared into Glen's deep blue eyes, it was all too easy for her to sink further still and meet her lips with her own. Both lingered at the kiss - their lips meeting as though that brief touch alone was enough for them. And it was, for a while. Erzsebet responded first, parting her lips and forcing her tongue into Glen's mouth. Where before there was a stillness, now there was only fierce passion as Glen met Erzsebet's tongue with her own. Erzsebet was bigger, stronger, and on top, so she forced Glen down till she was pinned beneath her. Erzsebet often found it thought-provoking how two species had evolved so similarly one could know and understand the erotic pleasures of the other. She put this knowledge to use as she used a finger with Glen until she was little better than a moaning, shuddering mass beneath her. Erzsebet continued until she felt Glen's fluids gush, and then they kissed. “Let me lick you,” Glen said, “I want to make you happy.” Erzsebet stroked the sweet girl's hair, their faces so close they could be kissing. “You have made me happy just seeing you smile, sweetness.” Erzsebet needed to seduce the girl, which was easy enough in a dream, but this doesn't carry over into waking reality. Even when she had been cleaning a room nearby, connecting with Glen had been impossible so far. “I thought that you might perhaps turn me?” Glen asked. “Turn you?” “Into a vampire, like you, so that we can be together forever.” “That is not possible; one species cannot become another.” “So the answer is no, then,” Glen said sadly, believing that Erzsebet didn't think she was worthy. Erzsebet then explained that vampires were not undead and had evolved alongside humans as a separate species. Ancient vampire scholars had said that vampires were ten times more than a human. So, ten times more strength, ten times the intelligence, ten times the speed, and ten times the longevity, etc. The average vampire lived for a thousand years, humans eighty to one hundred. The undead lie was propaganda created by the religious war machine of humankind. Men felt better fighting and killing evil spirits as it better excused their depravities. “It is possible to experience being a vampire for brief periods, however,” Erzsebet imparted and then told Glen the story of how vampires first began sharing their blood with humans. This might have been all too much for the girl in one dream, Erzsebet considered. Challenging lies that had become established truths were never easy to do, even more difficult in a dream. “There is a way,” Erzsebet continued once Glen had absorbed the information, “To get hold of some of this blood.” The alarm on her phone woke Glen from sleep like a vampire rising in her coffin, and she sat for a while, swooning, fighting the overwhelming urge to lay down and go back to sleep. It was six in the morning, and this gave her enough time to eat a quick breakfast, get to work, and clean the clinic before all the doctors arrived for the day shift. But the previous night's dream slowed her down as she couldn't stop thinking about what Erzsebet had said to her. I mean, yeah, it must be bullshit as it's just a stupid dream, Glen thought, but she had never considered what they do at the clinic enough to ask questions. She did her work, got paid, and that was her relationship figured out as far as she was concerned. The dream had been insistent that the blood would be easy to obtain from Anna. Ridiculous, Glen chastised herself but had to wonder how she could make all of this up on her own? Why would she change the vampire folklore she loved so much, for example? Everyone knew that vampires were undead. How could they be a separate species from humans? It didn't make sense. And why would Anna have vampire blood? Chapter 2 Preview: Anna was the overweight daughter of the clinic's owner. Thirty-five, a bullish lesbian and incredibly lonely. The women she usually pulled were not the type she wanted. She far preferred the younger, sweeter, more innocent kind of girl. Like Glen, she thought, as she saw her arrive for work that morning. Anna liked to hang around in the changing area while the girls changed for work. She knew what they said about her behind her back, but she didn't care. It wasn't like any of them would date her anyway, so she might as well get her kicks out of them.