Bathory Blood

Mistress of the Night

Cecil was still not entirely out of the daze Erzsebet had put him under, but he knew that a dead body in the star-of-the-show's dressing room wasn't a good thing.

"It's OK, Elvira." He eased the door closed, ensuring nobody else was headed their way. "The music covered the sound." Cecil stared at Elvira, slumped awkwardly against the wall, her head lolled onto her chest, and sighed deeply. This could be bad.

"What? She came at me," Elvira whined.

"It's not that. It's just the lady is clearly out of her mind. Who goes out in their jammies?"

"Even more reason to shoot her." Elvira cut off as Cecil hissed loudly.

"People won't see it that way. I mean," Cecil looked Elvira over, paying particular attention to her chest. "You don't look injured."

"OK, then hit me."

"It don't work like that." Cecil warned, his face puckering up and his voice going to a whisper, "They got forensics and stuff."

"You trying to say that I could go to prison for this? It was self-defense, Cecil." Elvira paced the room, and as she did so, Cecil watched her warily. She was beautiful, yet the way she was waving that gun around was unnerving.

"We're going to have to get rid of the body, that's all," he soothed, partly because he wanted her to calm down, but he also saw an opportunity for Elvira to owe him something. Maybe she'd return the favor by having s*x with him? "I'll pull my car around the back. We're ten steps at most from the fire exit. If you help, it'll take five minutes."

"OK," Elvira nodded, her addled mind seeing complete sense with the absurd plan. "Wait," she said, suddenly realizing that Cecil might be about to doublecross her, "You better come back,"

"I'd never leave you, Elvira." Cecil had wanted to tell her that he would always love her, but as he had never told her the way he felt, he left it at that, smiled awkwardly, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Despite the gruesomeness of the situation, Cecil had higher hopes than ever that he would finally get his hands on Elvira's voluptuous curves. And it would likely be that very night. He imagined it would be right after they buried the body.

"Who's on the door?" moaned Larry, the club owner, as Cecil passed

"Just going for a cigarette," Cecil said in a way that told Larry he didn't want to be questioned and, upon hearing it, Larry had no intention of doing so. When a guy of Cecil's size didn't want an argument, Larry knew better than to go there. Larry was a lover, not a fighter, at least, that's what he told himself. He wasn't really much of one of those either. Most of the action he saw these days was paid for. So, Larry watched Cecil head out the back and waited until he was out of earshot before shouting angrily, storming into his office, and slamming the door.

Cecil heard Larry's noise, but tonight he wasn't concerned. Usually, Cecil would do as he was asked; he was a nice guy and, despite his size, rarely took advantage. Tonight though, just for a f*****g change, Cecil was going to think about Cecil and only Cecil. Also, he was going to think about Elvira. Boy, was she going to get it. He was going to do all of the things he'd fantasized about doing. And he'd worked at the club for two years now. That was a lot of fantasy. Elvira was the only reason he kept coming back to the shitty job. If not for him, Larry would be a f**k-boy for the local gangs. Everybody knew not to mess with Cecil, he was a nice guy, but if you crossed him, he'd take you out without mercy.

Cecil walked to his beat-up sedan and climbed in, straining the suspension. Elvira was going to owe him big time for this. He just had to remember to keep his ulterior motives to himself until the right moment. The right moment definitely had to be after they'd buried the body. Or, rather, after he'd buried the body, he reminded himself. As sexy as she would look holding a shovel, actually using one would be beyond Elvira's capabilities. It was hard work burying a body, especially on your own. But it was worth it, Cecil reminded himself, as he cranked the engine, wheezing it into life.

Although vampire blood is blue, it looks black, especially when soaking through the slim blue cotton of Glen's pajamas, so Elvira didn't find anything strange with it at all. She was far too worried about herself to examine things further. If Elvira were thinking correctly, she might have asked herself why there was so little of it?

For her part, Erzsebet was very impressed with the power of the human's weapon. The bullet thankfully glanced off her ribcage and out again without causing too much damage. However, she reckoned that had the bullet dodged her bones and hit a major organ, she would have been very ill for quite a while. Similar weapons had existed in her day, but the bullets never penetrated as deeply, nor were they powerful enough to knock a vampire from one side of the room to the other. Erzsebet was so impressed that she decided to wait for the perfect moment to reveal herself. Ta-da, guess who's still alive?

The time for Erzsebet to move came when Elvira finally put the gun back in the drawer of the vanity table. Elvira sat at the vanity table and nervously re-applied her makeup. As she leaned in to ensure her lips were straight, Elvira saw a dark shadow rise behind and turned, ready to scream.

Her experience alerting her to the impending scream, Erzsebet cut her off with her hands around her mouth and sinking her teeth into Elvira's neck.

"So sweet," Erzsebet soothed as Elvira convulsed feebly. "There, there, it will all be over soon." Erzsebet's hypnotic voice and the loss of blood soon sent Elvira into unconsciousness. Erzsebet could have left it there, but she was so thirsty and Elvira's blood so succulent, so tasty. Like a fine wine, coffee, or any other beverage, quality was down to the individual container. No two would ever be quite the same. This was also true of humans, and Elvira's was of exceptionally high quality.

Cecil flung open the dressing room door and closed it quietly behind him without giving much thought to who or what was in the room with him.

"Car's idling, all we gotta do is carry her in." Cecil paused upon finding the body missing and what looked like Elvira, dressed in her long black cape, crouched and leaning over something on the floor. "What you doing, girl? You gone crazy or something?"

Cecil took a step forward and, instead of Elvira turning to greet him, Erzsebet, her face and neck coated in Elvira's fresh blood, snarled. Instinctively, Cecil threw a punch, but Erzsebet caught his fist in her hand and held it there.

Erzsebet's grip was like a vice, and she had the strength to hold Cecil in place. She looked into his eyes as he shook like a child before her. His grandmother had impressed upon him that there were evils in the world. Demons, she called them. Cecil had never believed her, figured she was likely speaking in metaphors. But upon seeing Erzsebet, everything she had warned him about came flooding back. They were real. Demons were real.

"That's right, Cecil," Erzsebet stood. It felt so good to be in some decent clothing. Even Cecil, with his life on the line and shaking in his shoes, couldn't help but briefly admire how good she looked. Erzsebet didn't quite have Elvira's chest proportions, but she had an extra pizzazz that would draw the admiration of males and females alike.

Erzsebet had always had an extraordinary ability with magnetism, and she turned it on now, looking into Cecil's eyes and connecting her mind.

"I'm sorry, Cecil," she said, "But I don't find men particularly tasty, so there will be no pleasure before your death, only pain." Erzsebet sighed as, stiff as a board, Cecil stood before her. "Well, make it easy. How do you expect me to reach? Get on your knees." Cecil dropped to his knees as commanded, and Erzsebet wasted no time in ripping out his jugular.