Salvation - an erotic vampire romance

Salvation

a
n erotic vampire romance

Alexandra Cameron

Copyright
©
2013 Alexandra Cameron

~

London, 1885 

Part 1

Elizabeth
Elizabeth ran through the deserted streets of London, terror and panic coursing through her veins.
Her feet kept slipping on the white snow as she desperately tried to make her escape.

London was so beautiful at this time of year. All of the filth, the litter, the broken cobbles
tones – they were all hidden beneath a layer of pure, white snow. The whores on the docks had retreated into the warmth of the pubs to look for their next victim, the beggars had escaped to whatever shelter they could find. The streets of London appeared more wholesome than they really were at this time of year.
But right now Elizabeth was wishing the streets were full of their usual hustle and bustle, along with all the filth, the haze of liquor, the smell of sex in the alleyways, and the whores with their sailors that came with it.
But she was alone, completely alone. Even the rats had scurried away in search of warmth. And so she ran further, slipping and sliding, pulling herself up, desperately searching for safety.
Only an hour ago she had been holed up in the safety of the chapel. But he had found her there. Completely undeterred by the crosses and the holy water, he had casually strolled towards her.
“Lizzie … little Lizzieeeee, ” he had sung softly, rolling her name around on his tongue, turning it into some sort of mad, maniacal lullaby.
She could still hear it echoing in her ears, like some sort of distant melodic screeching. At the same time, she can hear raucous laughter, rumblings, people talking on the street corner up ahead. The wanton giggling of women, the booming hollering of the bartender and the sailors.
She ran towards the noise, towards the sounds of safety, even as it felt as though acid was burning holes into her lungs. With each step, her feet screamed in agony, barely covered by her tattered shoes. The ice-cold touch of death crept up through her bones with every step. All of her exposed skin had long-since turned blue. But she continued to fight. Fight to survive. Fight for the life of a beggar, a street pick pocket.   
Elizabeth had grown up in a poorhouse and only stole to stay alive. She went to church every Sunday to pray. And to confess her sins. The Bible said that stealing to eat wasn’t a sin; her preacher had preached that once too. She had always made sure to only take as much from her victims as she needed to survive. And she had never, would never, sell her body. Even if Jesus himself dined with whores, the preacher had threatened her with eternal damnation should she ever resort to selling herself. She believed him. She would not go to Hell if she died now, but she would be condemned to damnation if this monster transformed her.    
But it had not yet come to that. She could still run, was still able to run until she found salvation. Until she found someone who would save her from this monster.
Finally, Elizabeth reached the street corner and grabbed onto the doorframe of the pub entrance. She could barely hold herself up. But she had made it. She had survived. She stepped inside to the warmth, to the safety of a crowd. Her feet felt like they were burning through the thin soles of her shoes as she came in from the cold.
She reached the patrons and collapsed in front of them. A few of them turned towards her with interest, others simply continued to drink and laugh. A broken girl covered in tattered clothing was nothing unusual here.
“Help!” Elizabeth gasped, pressing her hands on her chest to subdue the pain that came from breathing. “He’s chasing me…” Her lungs tormented her as she wheezed out the croaky words she hoped would save her. She grabbed onto the coat of the nearest man.  “Please, Sir. Please help me.”  
The stranger pulled his coat out of her blue, frozen hands with a disgusted look on his face. He and several others took several steps away from her as though she were a nasty germ.  
“Please, he’s a monster… he’s going to kill me! Please help me!” she begged, determined to make herself understood. Her vocal chords were screaming in agony, but she had to keep going, had to make them understand. “Please, he’s…” her voice failed her, she could only cough. But the coughing hurt her throat just as much. “A vam…” she gasped into the dead air. The word faded as she spoke it.  
“Was that … “vampire” you said, little Lizzie?”, the monster whispered quietly in her ear from behind, with the hint of a voice that had just hurled her name into the world. He pulled her up high by the thin collar of her dress and brought her face up to his. “Is that what you said?”
“Help!” came the soundless cry from her lips.
The people in the pub had all turned back to look now with curiosity. The monster was attractive, almost aristocratic, and clearly rich. What did a man like that want with such a dirty and tattered street urchin, they were clearly asking themselves.
“She took my money and then refused to spread her legs! Can you believe it?”, the monster laughed into the crowd.
A few laughed with him. More still preferred not to do anything that might make the rich man angry. They turned back to their drinks while he took Elizabeth by the collar and pulled her back out into the snow. A deep furrow was left in the white, pure snow cover as he dragged her from the refuge she’d so desperately fought to reach. 
Elizabeth tried to fight him, she kicked her legs, tried to bite the hand that was still holding tightly onto her collar, tried to grab onto the grooves on the street cobbles as he dragged her.
Her brittle fingernails broke. She kept trying. Spots of blood dropped onto the snow and smudged into it. The sharp-edged cobbles cut into her skin as he dragged her mercilessly.
When she finally managed to get his hand between her teeth and bite, he let her go. She fell painfully onto her tailbone. The sharp, crystal-clear pain only delayed her for a moment before she tried to escape again. She crawled a few steps. Maybe a few centimetres.
But then the monster simply grabbed her by her hair and continued to drag her.
Elizabeth screamed, but no noise came from her throat, she hit him, but he didn’t notice, she stuck her heels into the ground, but the sharp pain in the roots of her hair only grew stronger as he effortlessly dragged her further.
Once they had turned the corner, he lifted her up, up against a wall and pressed her firmly into it with his body.
“Did you really think, even for a moment, that you had a chance?” the monster whispered into her ear.

Had she?
Earlier that afternoon she had pickpocketed his watch in a small alleyway and run fast. She needed to eat. She had run until she came to her pawnbroker, who took the watch from her gladly.

And then the pawnbroker
had disclosed her name to the monster before he was killed. Elizabeth had kept running until she got to the poorhouse where he surely wouldn’t be able to find her amongst all the people. But he had. And then she had run to the church where he had bitten into the preacher’s throat. And then she had run to the pub…

Had she really thought she had a chance?
“For one, tiny moment,” she murmured quietly.

“Silly
little Lizzie,” he laughed into her neck before sinking his teeth into her throat.
~
“Hello, little Lizzie…”, the voice murmured as she woke. The crazy voice of the monster. “Little Lizzie, sweet little Lizzie…”
Elizabeth opened her eyes and found herself staring into his face. He was handsome when he wasn’t baring his fangs, when his dark eyes didn’t have a crazy gleam to them.
She realised that her wrists were bound and chained to the ceiling and she could only just touch the floor with the balls of her toes. She was helpless, swinging in the air.

His
dark face before her.
She swung there in front of him, needing a moment to fully understand the situation. Why was she still alive?

“Am I
… am I a vampire?”
His lips warped. She wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a smile.

“No,” he answered,
quite seriously. There was no more crazy there, no madness in his eyes. “You’re something even better,” he continued as his cold fingers reached out to touch her bare stomach.
She was naked, Elizabeth realised in surprise. Naked and … different. She stared down at herself in amazement. Her thin, half-starved body had filled out. She was glowing. Where previously she’d been flat-chested, she now had round, firm, breasts. Her usually pale and frail looking skin was glowing with a healthiness it had never known before. Even her nipples had a wonderful, healthy pink colour to them. 
She had beautiful, magnificent breasts. So full and wonderful and firm.
She wanted to touch them, feel them, grab them. She tried to reach down with her arm, but her restraints would not allow it. The rattling of the chains filled the air.
“You will become a vampire when I exchange our blood. The first bite only makes you a little … inhuman,” the vampire was explaining with a voice that flowed like honey over a razor blade. Sweet and sharp.
She closed her eyes. Inhuman … demonic. She was damned. Damned. No heaven after death, just a slave at the mercy of a monster.

“Sweet, little
Lizzie,” he hummed as his fingers slid further down over her naked stomach. They touched the top of her mound. “You could be happy if you stopped resisting.”

…and lead me not into temptation…
“No more hunger, no more cold, no pain. Just lust.”
...but deliver me from evil...
“Lust that rushes through your body like a drug, sweet, innocent, Lizzie.” His fingers played lightly with her pubic hair, touched her outer labia.
...for thine is the Kingdom...
A wave of heat as clear and sharp as the icy chill of the streets rushed through her.
Wetness was waiting for him as his fingers slipped between her labia.

“Lust
that will give you your purpose in life, suck you in and spit you out again happy. Lust, so wonderfully warm and satisfying. Never again will you have to think about pain and suffering.”
...the power and the...
She pressed her eyes closely shut, closed her legs, tried to escape from his caress, but his fingers were so soft, so wonderfully gentle. He ignored her resistance with a light touch on her clitoris, just a small, light touch.   
Hot, damp feelings were rising inside her. She couldn’t stop it. Arousal was taking her will from her. It felt so good to be held for once. To finally feel the strong, protective hands of a man.
Protective? 
Yes, she thought, in her semi-consciousness. He was so gentle, so loving. He would never hurt her, or let anyone else hurt her. His voice was so beautiful. So clear and pure, like a fresh spring breeze in the midst of the dirty city. His touch was like that of an angel.

She
fell, fell into the depths of enjoyment. The pleasure of his touch, of his soft, warm voice, his seduction. Fell into…
...the glory!
She felt lost as she found herself slightly, just slightly, voluntarily opening her legs. Welcoming his fingers inside. A second finger slipped between her labia, touched her clit. His fingers slid over it, down to her untouched opening. They drew circles around it, small, light circles. She felt dizzy.
She opened her legs a little wider, giving him space to keep going. Yes, keep going. Please, keep going.
He did so, his fingertips finding their way inside her, pushing through the opening of her body. This unfamiliar, thick rubbing of his fingers felt huge to her. It hurt a little, but also increased her arousal. She felt lightheaded, she was sweating, the blood was roaring in her ears, in her jugular. He softly kissed her on the throat, on his bite mark. She shuddered.
His fingers rotated deeply inside her. Her body jerked.
The next moment, it had all stopped. She opened her eyes. He was gone.
There was a light breeze in the room where he had been, but it was empty. She was hanging helplessly in a cellar, an archaic, ancient cellar carved out into the rocky soil. The walls were damp. The ceiling was dripping.
She was alone.
~
Alexander
Annoyed wasn’t the word for it. Alexander was angry. Livid. His body was ready to burst, he wanted nothing more than to return to Elizabeth and thrust into her innocent body.
He didn’t want to have to deal with this shit. Of course that bitch would summon him now. Now, just as he had driven his fingers into her wet opening. Of course she had chosen just this moment to summon him. Vampires loved interrupting you right when you had something better to do. 
He had only reacted to her summons because he wanted her money. Needed it, actually. He had been living on the outskirts of society for centuries, had only dealt with wankers when he wanted to, but this time he had made a mistake. A huge mistake.
Whatever the books said, vampires were not rich simply because they were vampires. They have to earn their money just like everyone else if they want to have it to spend. Of course they don’t pay rent, they simply kill their landlords. Of course their food, their nourishment, is entirely free. Still, they have a very expensive lifestyle. Alexander found it simply repulsive to run wearing the clothing of dead people. That was what most of them did so they didn’t have to spend money on clothes. They killed victims who were about the same size as them. But Alexander refused to do that. Instead, he would send a human lackey to a tailor’s during the day and had him take care of it. It was expensive, but it was worth it. Even if he had huge financial problems right now. Most vampires, creatures and trolls either wore the torn, bloody, badly fitted clothing of their victims or nothing at all. 
Alexander began making his way through the winding passageways of the dark, damp castle. He hated being back in this godforsaken place. At least his task was certainly a profitable one. Ice-blonde nymphs hopped through the passageways or pleasured themselves with the demons as he brushed past them. Half-animal hybrids were copulating everywhere with human or demonic creatures.  
He came to a dimly lit chamber and observed the scene. His cock was still erect from his encounter with Elizabeth and the depraved orgy he saw before him did nothing to discourage it. To his left lay an elf writhing on the ground while four vampiric women indulged him. One of them was sucking his cock, another sat on his face, another let him stroke and massage her massive breasts, and the last licked everywhere else on his body that wasn’t accounted for.
His gaze moved on as he looked through the room. Another female vampire had all three of her orifices filled by three human slaves, while several other creatures were jerking off to the scene and ejaculating on her. Ghouls hovered nearby, pleasuring themselves. Close to a darkened window, six men were indulging in their own orgy, their skin covered with sweat. Creatures were biting and moaning and writhing all around him. The sound of screams, moans, the clapping and splashing of bodies, the whistling of whips, the clanking of chains, howling and whimpering filled the room.   
But Alexander merely climbed over the writhing orgy of bodies and continued on his way, ignoring his gnawing lust.