The Night Captive
The last volleys of fireworks had just thundered over the Neva. In the ensuing silence, the joyful shouts, laughter, and hum of the crowd seemed forced and out of place, but gradually the ear adjusted to the familiar soundscape, and all the night sounds merged into the unique symphony of a festive May night. Palaces, temples, monuments, riverboats on the Neva and canals, shop windows, lanterns on wide avenues and in darkening parks were lit by thousands of lights. Nick was at the epicenter of this spectacle, in the thick of the crowd on Palace Square. From here, he had conditionally begun his hunt for the day. Today he would have a real feast. In the crowd, he felt
the sharpness of his loneliness and his superiority over this herd most acutely.Nick slowly drew in the cool, damp air from the embankment. Fresh blood. That scent was unmistakable. It instantly induced a sweet haze in his head, a hungry spasm in his stomach, and a rush of saliva in his mouth. Under his upper lip, the bumps of his fangs swelled, reacting to the potential victim. Nick instinctively squared his shoulders, slightly clenched his fists in his pockets, and turned his head, stretching his neck in anticipation of the hunt.
For a while, he walked, pushing through the crowd, guided only by scent and enjoying the blind pursuit. The street smells hindered him—exhaust fumes, smoke from the fireworks, human food, human bodies, perfume… but the blood smelled the strongest. It was calling him.
The young man licked his lips. He knew he was pursuing a girl of about eighteen, a brunette, dark-skinned, black-eyed, in good physical shape, somewhat agitated, and also a virgin. He could hear the beats of her heart and her rapid breathing from hundreds of meters away. When the distance between them narrowed to about eight or ten meters, Nick glanced in her direction. Slender as a reed, but not lacking femininity, a springy gait, a proud carriage of her head, correct posture, a tight stomach, shoulders back, even though she was awkwardly pressing a hand to her chest… a wounded one… Nick felt the taste of his saliva change as an anesthetic entered it. The sharp tips of his upper fangs pressed against his lower lip, the lower fangs unclenched his clenched jaw, making his teeth grind and slightly altering his bite. A surge of strength and complete readiness for pursuit was felt throughout his body. His trousers grew tight from an erection. He opened his mouth slightly and inhaled the girl's scent with a full chest.
She was wearing tight leggings under denim, which emphasized her slender legs, flat stomach, and toned buttocks. A short sports jacket concealed the contours of her thin waist and rounded, high breasts. Long, thick hair was pulled into a tight, lush ponytail at the back of her head, which was passed over the strap adjusting the width of her baseball cap. Her face was hidden by the long visor pulled down to her nose. However, her face couldn't be seen from behind anyway. The girl was slowly moving with the flow of the crowd towards the metro. Alone. What luck…
Nick smiled and called. He called as only vampires can, enticingly, excitingly, promisingly. The victim began to look around anxiously. The power of this call was still unfamiliar to her, and the thought of resisting it didn't even cross her mind. She slowed her pace, and he turned from the main street into the nearest alley, stopped, and called again. There were too many people here as well, so it was too early to attack. He needed to lure her to a dark and deserted place where he could enjoy the taste of her life without unnecessary witnesses.
After waiting about two minutes, Nick finally saw her: the girl stepped into the very middle of the alley, looking around with doubt and anxiety for someone among the passersby. She couldn't understand the feelings that had seized her. Her heart was pounding like a frightened canary's, her wound ached and also throbbed, but the strange call from nowhere disturbed her much more. She didn't notice Nick, and he calmly turned and slowly walked away, into the darkness, to where the satisfaction of his hunger and peace awaited him, at least for a while. He could feel the connection with her even with his back. Now his mind controlled her feelings; he was humming a divine melody of passion, love, blissful reunion of male and female to her, the kind all living creatures sing when they wish to rid themselves of their loneliness. So sing the instincts long forgotten by man.
"You were looking for me," Nick answered the question tormenting her.
"You? Who are you? I don't understand anything…"
"It was I who called you."
"Why?"
Nick stepped out of the shadows and appeared before the girl in all his spectacular guise of a metropolitan dandy: a short, light, open woolen trench coat; a fitted white shirt; a narrow black tie; perfectly fitting leather trousers on a belt with a hefty buckle; low boots with wide shafts in a military style; thick hair released to his shoulders, light curls blowing in the wind and falling haphazardly onto his picture-perfect handsome face. He read in her eyes the impression he had made. The girl was clearly one of those impressionable, flighty fools who fall for flashy dandies like him at first sight. His proximity excited her, and he not without pleasure inhaled the subtle scent of her arousal and trepidation. Her face turned out to be no less attractive than her shapely figure: huge almond-shaped Eastern eyes, velvety black, shining; a small straight nose; a beautiful oval face with a pointed chin; a small, neat mouth with shapely outlined lips. Not a gram of makeup on her well-groomed golden-tanned skin. And she didn't need it. In height, she barely reached his shoulder, and generally belonged to that type of miniature, coquettish fashionistas that men love to carry in their arms. Strange how such a beauty had managed to preserve her innocence until now. Could she possess genuine virtue? Nick examined her not without pleasure. He even felt a little sorry for such beauty, but decades of murder had turned him into a monster incapable of empathy, so pity and sympathy quickly evaporated when his stomach cramped from hunger at such a close and desired smell of fresh blood. He impatiently bit his lower lip.
"To kill you," he answered after a prolonged pause and bestowed upon her a smile as cold as death itself. He took a step towards her. She backed away in shock, but in fractions of a second, the predator lunged at her like a raging hurricane and squeezed her in a choking embrace, his teeth aiming precisely for the pulsating artery on her neck.
It rarely happened to him, but at some point, he lost control of the situation and allowed himself to relax. He had performed this intoxicating act—murder for sustenance—so many times successfully and completely unhindered that he apparently allowed himself to lose vigilance. And should he have expected resistance from a scrawny, light-as-a-feather girl with a wounded arm? Anyway, Nick suddenly felt a sharp and painful prick in his neck. This bitch, it seems, managed to somehow anticipate his bite and wound him with something, and even evade his teeth, because they clicked loudly just a centimeter from her tempting neck, failing to reach the coveted target. And then… then the girl deftly slipped out of his hands and jumped aside, and he began to choke, a dry heat enveloped his head and chest, his mouth dried up, the surrounding reality swam before his clouding gaze, his legs gave way, and he crashed onto the dusty asphalt on his knees, and then face down, unable even to put out his hands to soften the blow.
***
Nick came to from pain. His whole body ached, nausea rose in his throat, but his head was splitting the most. He reluctantly opened one eye, then the other. Some small technical room, shabby gray walls, concrete floor, exposed wiring, a low, grimy ceiling. Two yellow oval lamps under rusty grilles shone dimly. The stench of fuel oil, creosote, and the sourness of waterproofing impregnation for soil hit his nose. A railway was somewhere close by. Just now, in the distance, behind the wall, a train rumbled dully. The metro. He was underground. At least one piece of good news for today—sunburn wasn't a threat here.
Nick looked himself over from head to toe and discovered he was lying on something like an old medical cot, set at a slight incline, without a mattress, right on the metal grid base. On his raised and spread arms—police handcuffs, hooked by their free ends to the iron frame of his bed. His legs were also spread apart and shackled with heavy leg irons. Nick pulled on the handcuffs with all his might. Useless. Well… an unpleasant situation, but… what scrapes hadn't he been in over his 176 years. Though this time he'd been tricked so simply… like some naive rookie… To fall into a trap set by some scrawny bitch! Could she really be a real huntress? Hard to believe… The last real hunter he'd met was in the late 80s, and even then in the provinces.
Suddenly, his predator's sense caught a weak pulsation. A heartbeat… 110 beats per minute… A scaredy-cat… Then, through the stench of other smells, came the sweetest and most desired aroma of fresh blood. The wound was already treated with some crap and covered with a band-aid, but blood was still blood—he could always pick it out from a million other smells. Hunger only intensified the nausea, but the pain receded into the background due to the reawakened bloodthirsty instincts. He definitely liked the smell of this virgin. With what relish would he suck her dry to the last drop. Only, before, he wouldn't have bothered with her for long, but after everything she'd done to him, he would enjoy her slowly, very slowly… Let her die, burning with unquenched passion and begging him to let her come while he covers her body with deadly bites…
But then light footsteps were heard outside the door. Credit where it's due—she steps softly and silently, like a cat… Stopped at the door… Her little heart is racing in a frantic rhythm… Trying to control her breathing, takes a deep breath and exhale, licks her lips…
Finally, a key clicked in the lock, the door opened, and the girl entered the room. Nick, of course, pretended he was still unconscious, barely restraining a sly smile. She's shaking all over from excitement and fear, like a cornered bunny. And he also senses her pheromones being produced as she approaches him. His cock simply couldn't not react to that. To end up captured by some pretty little coward! But what does she want from him, I wonder?
***
Maryana stood aside for a long time, not daring to move and carefully examining the vampire shackled hand and foot. Had she thought everything through well? Would these shackles hold him? God, it was simply unbelievable that she had managed to subdue such a seasoned beast. The guy was nearly two meters tall, and his reactions were lightning-fast. And yet she had been faster! Several years of fitness and karate hadn't been in vain. The girl nervously swallowed and moved closer. The young man lay on the metal cot, his head limply drooping onto his shoulder. His chest rose and fell evenly. Light curls stuck to the dried blood on his face. Yesterday he had split his lip and broken his nose quite badly when he fell face down, but the wounds, of course, had healed in a couple of hours, and his pretty face seemed to have become even more attractive. Why was she always falling for tall, handsome blondes with long hair? And why was she always so unlucky with them? Maryana pondered. What should she do with him now? Try to negotiate nicely or resort to threats right away? Oh, how she was shaking, despite having prepared for this day for the last four years!
The sight of blood on his face was unpleasant to her and distracting. Squatting down and placing her backpack on the floor, she pulled out some wet wipes and, without taking her eyes off the vampire's shackled hands, slowly approached and touched his face with a wipe. Nothing happened. Well—perhaps it was better to try talking to him nicely first. She carefully wiped away the blood and froze, admiring his beauty. Legends circulated about the sexual allure of vampires, which was no surprise, as they only turned the best of the best, only those they themselves couldn't remain indifferent to, and they were rarely attracted to anyone… hopelessly rarely… That's why their numbers were so small that no sane person would believe in their existence unless they encountered their true nature themselves. Only, they left no witnesses, just as they left no evidence.
Her anxious gaze jumped from his long and fluffy, girlish eyelashes to his pale pink, softly outlined lips, then greedily ran over his entire body—from broad shoulders and muscular chest to the defined abs and slender hips, constrained by narrow leather trousers. A sleeping beauty… Maryana smirked at the funny analogy, but the man's allure was so irresistible that she quickly lost her sense of humor. She had injected him with a second dose of the solution just a couple of hours ago. He should still be unconscious for about another hour. What if she… experimented a little with him while he slept? She'd never really had anything with guys. The thought was so idiotic and vulgar that she should have been ashamed of herself, but instead, a wild excitement washed over her, making her ears burn fiercely, her hands tremble, her legs weak, and she involuntarily squeezed her thighs due to the pleasant pulsation and warmth in her panties. What kind of obsession was this?
Carefully leaning her hands on the iron cot, Maryana bent over the young man's cheek, listened once more to his calmly even breathing, and inhaled the spicy scent of his hair. Vampires, it turned out, smelled amazingly of a new Eastern fragrance from Hugo Boss, which they had just pushed on her yesterday at L'Etoile. The girl carefully touched the tip of her tongue to his earlobe, licked her lips, and bit her lip self-forgetfully, trying to catch the slightest nuances of the taste of his skin. His smell, his taste, the warmth of his body intoxicated her mind like some fantastic drug. Unable to restrain herself any longer, Maryana took his earlobe between her lips, gently sucked, licked, then wetly kissed his neck under his ear, licked off the salty sweat from it, which pleasantly stung the tip of her tongue, and began to cover his neck, his smoothly shaven cheek, and collarbone with tender kisses. The taste of his skin in her mouth did something incredible to her—it made her whole body burn, her heart—to either freeze or race in a frantic rhythm. She simply couldn't stop! The very thought that before her lay a beast she had caught herself, immobilized, helpless, capable of tearing her to pieces if given the chance, excited her to trembling, to a loss of self-control.
Hovering over his face just a dozen centimeters away, Maryana admired his perfect features, burning with a thirst for a sweet, long kiss. She must have lost her mind if she was going to kiss a vampire… but how she wanted to check if his teeth were really that sharp, and if his lips were that tasty… They were so provocatively seductive and so mockingly indifferent… Besides, she could learn how to kiss from him.
Melting and covered in trembling goosebumps from head to toe, Maryana licked his tender lips. Once, twice, three times… She closed her eyes in bliss and with the fingers of one hand carefully ran over the muscles on his shoulders and chest until she reached his hardened nipple, teasing it with light touches. The tip of her tongue slipped between his lips, touching his smooth teeth and tasting his saliva. A strange aftertaste of iron, apple, and cinnamon. In her panties, everything swelled and moistened, her nipples hardened and became so sensitive that even the touch of her own clothes pleasantly irritated them, her cheeks burned, her whole body trembled with impatience. She barely caught her breath and pressed her lips to his, passionately caressing, teasing them with her tongue, and gently sucking on his lower lip. What wouldn't she give right now for him to return her kiss!
Having enjoyed his lips, the girl sat on the edge of the cot and caught her breath a little. Was she really going to go further? For just a moment, she frowned, trying to resist the impulses of the passion that had seized her, but it was useless to oppose such a strong desire. Besides, the vampire showed no signs of awakening. No one would ever know if she took a look at what he had there… and she had never seen a penis in real life… only in porn a few times, but as soon as she got a taste for it, her older brother found out about her antics and blocked her access to sites of that nature.
Glancing warily at the handsome blonde's face, she carefully unbuckled the belt on his trousers, trying not to let the buckle clink, then slowly unbuttoned the button and zipper on his trousers, not without a thrilling pleasure noting to herself that the object of her interest, covered by the elastic fabric of expensive, thin underwear, was large and very hard. Barely breathing, Maryana pulled down the wide waistband of his boxers.
***
When the tongue of this lustful fool slid over the head of his cock for probably the hundredth time, Nick allowed himself to open one eye. The girl was so absorbed in her licentious activity that she no longer noticed anything around her and had lost all vigilance. Hmm… being a vampire and doing such things with girls was still fucking awesome… Barely restraining