Cravings Read online

  “Look at the date!” Martin yelled, his voice reverberating off the walls.

  Father Olsen narrowed his eyes. Then he saw what appeared to be a date scribbled in the bottom corner of the photo in blue ink. The date read: July, 1979.

  “That’s right,” Martin said. “That photo is thirty years old.”

  “Interesting… Well, if you’re right, this woman has aged quite well indeed.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Father, this woman hasn’t aged at all.”

  “I’m confused… What are you saying?”

  Martin grabbed the wallet and put it back into his jacket. “I have known her for over thirty years. She is my only love and I would do anything for her. I’ve watched her in good times and bad, she has given me more love than any man deserves.”

  “So… What is the problem?”

  “The problem is…. Vampires don’t age!”

  Elise moaned; the unmistakable timbre of sexual delight. At once, supreme satisfaction tingled through her, the penetration of his manhood swelling harder and deeper into her willing and moist aperture. Finding a rhythm, Liam kissed her deeply. Their tongues danced, seductive bliss rocketing through every nerve. They thrust together in a frenetic cadence of aggressive sensuality and freedom, reality lost in the heat of their embrace. Her legs wrapped around his buttocks, ensnaring him in the suffocating grip of anticipation, begging for him to release himself into her.

  Arching her back up to feel his chest against her voluptuous breasts, she demanded, “Do it now, I want all of you.”

  Liam felt his senses heighten, his legs trembling, reckless excitement uncontrollable in its power over him. Panting; he kissed down her cheek, licked her jawbone; guided his tongue to her neck. The eruption building within him screamed for liberation. He opened his mouth wide, his jagged side tooth resting upon Elise’s palpating throat. “Do it!” she cried. “Make me your eternal love. Make me like you!”

  With all his force, Liam pressed his muscular arms into the bed. Using all his strength, he pushed away from her, breaking her grip. Quickly, he leapt from the bed. “I told you not to tempt me!” he yelled, reaching for his pants on the floor.

  “Please don’t stop,” Elise pleaded, “I’m sorry… please come back to me. Don’t leave me this way.”

  “No,” Liam said, zipping his pants up in anger. “This is for your own protection. Get changed. I must feed now, I cannot wait. My hunger will destroy us both.”

  Elise knew better than to disobey him. It was pointless to continue this charade. For the first time, she felt something she never thought she would; absolute rage toward Liam. She got up, found the rumpled red dress, nylons and panties in the corner and began to change.

  He watched her closely as she dressed. After she slipped on her thigh high boots, they put on their winter coats and left the room in silence.

  Father Olsen told Martin to meet him at 4:30pm in the rectory. After he explained he had a few hospital visits to make, grudgingly, Martin agreed.

  Standing on the stoop, he rang the doorbell. The rectory was a small two-bedroom house which sat adjacent to the old church. The door flew open and Father Olsen, now dressed in black with the traditional Catholic collar around his neck smiled, “Welcome, I’m so glad you came. Please, come in.”

  Father Olsen led Martin to a dark room just off the kitchen. Martin noticed the smell of fresh roses as soon as he walked in. The room had no windows. The only light came from a beige antique lamp standing on a conservative end table. A wooden rectangular dining table sat in the center of the room. On the table, a bottle of wine and two snifters.

  “Please,” Father Olsen said, “Sit and talk with me. I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly earlier. You know how it is, never a moment of rest.”

  “How are the sick?” Martin asked, setting his briefcase down on the table as he sat.

  “What’s that? Oh, the sick… yes, they are… well, they are still sick,” he laughed.

  “That’s an odd response,” Martin said, not returning the laugh.

  Father Olsen sat down at the head of the table, Martin at his side, “A poor attempt at humor, I agree. I mean no disrespect, but there is only so much you can do.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence. Then, Martin said, “I also mean no disrespect, but I don’t think you’re the one who can help me. Is there another priest here?”

  Ignoring the request, Father Olsen leaned forward and met eyes with Martin, “I believe in God… Do you?”

  Martin sighed, “No, I don’t. I believe in only what I see.”

  “You say the woman you love is a vampire. You’ve seen this? You know it to be true?”

  “She left me for another late last night. She left me to go back to one of her own. And yes, I know it to be true.”

  “Not that I doubt you, because I don’t, it is obvious you believe what you’re telling me, but do you have evidence of this?”

  “I have years and years of observations. I’ve known for a very long time what she is. I suppose, I was captivated by her beauty, I didn’t ever want it to end. I lived out my fantasy in complete denial, pretending not to notice, but deep down, I knew all along.”

  “What proof do you think you saw?”

  Martin’s eyes fell; he let out a harsh groan. “She could not be injured.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I noticed it for the first time many years ago. It was my birthday, she sliced her finger while cutting a piece of cake, there was blood everywhere. Later that night, the cut not only had healed, it vanished completely.”

  “Did you question her?”

  “Oh yes… She became enraged, told me never to bring it up again. She told me that if I did, she would leave and never return. So, I let it go, but it was the beginning of my journey.”

  “Your journey?”

  “I’ve spent the better part of my adult life coming to understand what she is. It has been a heartbreaking existence for me. If I was to accept her love, I had no choice but to accept this eventual fate. I knew one day she’d come to leave me. Now that day has arrived, and I have come to you for help. I have nowhere else to go.”

  Father Olsen reached for the bottle of red wine, “Would you like a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  “This is my favorite wine,” Father Olsen said, pouring a generous portion into a snifter. “Classic French Merlot, it’s quite good.” He passed a glass to Martin who immediately took a gulp. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes… thank you.”

  “Can I ask you something Martin, Why did you come here?”

  “Well, this is a bit embarrassing to admit but I live only a few houses down the road.”

  “You do? We’re neighbors and I’ve never met you? That is most upsetting.”

  Martin took another healthy sip of wine, “I’m a bit of a hermit. I make my living as a sculptor and an artist. I pass this old church on the very rare occasion I do go out. Look, I don’t blame you if you think I’m nuts. For all I know, maybe I am.”

  “I never said I didn’t believe you.”

  Martin felt a lump form in his throat, suppressing the tears, he said, “I… just… thought you might be able to help… or at least give me some guidance.”

  “And I suppose, most of all, you thought God could protect you?” Father Olsen smiled. “Liam was right; you mortals are so very predictable.”

  Suddenly, Martin felt a shiver go up his spine. He went to move his hand but could not. Numbness washed over him, he couldn’t move. “What have you done? Who are you?”

  Ripping the collar off from around his neck, Father Olsen laughed, “Liam thought you might come here for help. I wasn’t so sure… but he was right. Now, we have you.”

  Martin tried to speak but was unable. The wine! Something was in the wine!

  “That’s right, Martin,” Father Olsen said, “Don’t fight it. I’ve given you a small dose of a paralytic agent. You are in no harm. In fact, Liam likes you, I like yo
u too. He wants you to do a favor for him, I’m sure you will oblige.”

  Terror struck Martin like a thousand lightning bolts searing into his soul, his eyes fixed on his captor, his heart racing faster and faster.

  “You need to calm down Martin. You are not in any danger, but if you don’t calm down you may give yourself a heart attack. I need you to breathe slowly and look into my eyes. Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully…”

  Liam ushered Elise into the stretch limousine parked just outside the entrance to the hotel. As the chauffeur held the door open for Elise, she noticed he was albino, white hair and skin, large eyes with pink iris’ and deep-red pupils.

  “I need to feed,” Liam whispered to the chauffeur as he followed Elise into the limo.

  They drove westbound through a small rural village that led to a winding narrow road. As traffic dissipated, the chauffeur stepped on the gas. Following the road up a steep incline, the limo banked hard on every sharp turn. Elise noticed the roadway was ascending quickly. She looked to her left and saw the outskirts of a heavily wooded mountain terrain. “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “It is not where I’m taking you,” Liam said. “It is where I’m taking me. You are just along for the ride. Twilight is almost upon us and I am ravenous for the taste of blood. I cannot wait another minute. Victor is our chauffeur; he will guard you while I hunt. I will not be long.”

  “You think I need a guard?” Elise asked.

  Liam looked at his watch, “You will shortly.”

  Elise was nervous, she found herself picking at her index finger with the nail on her thumb. Her anger was getting to her as she drove her nail deep into the flesh on the side of her finger.

  “Be careful,” Liam said, pointing to her finger.

  Looking down, Elise saw the droplets of fresh blood oozing from the wound on her finger, a wound she created herself without realizing. “It will heal,” she said with insolence.

  Liam smiled, “No… it won’t.”

  Elise shifted her gaze from Liam back to her finger, expecting to see the cut fully healed. Instead, to her horror, the blood had only gotten worse, flowing from her finger and down into her palm.

  Ashamed by this obvious transformation back to mortality, she lifted her finger to her mouth and sucked the blood clean. She didn’t notice it at first, but she was salivating, her tongue lapping up every bit of blood available to her. Like a dog thrashing through scraps of rubbish, she savored the discovery of this new flavor.

  “It’s begun,” Liam said. “Don’t worry, you can drink your own blood, but that is all.”

  The limo made a quick turn and slowed down. Victor parked the car about a mile up a dirt trail deep inside the snow-covered woodland.

  “I’ll be back shortly,” Liam said, putting on a pair of snug leather gloves. “If you want the time to go by peacefully, I suggest you sleep. Victor is at your service should you need anything.”

  “You’re just leaving me here?” Elise questioned.

  “I will be back soon. Besides, you really should get some rest; we have plans for later this evening. I have a surprise for you.”

  Liam looked to Victor, “Lock her in!”

  With that, Liam left the vehicle and jetted away into the forest at inhuman speed. As Elise watched, his body disappeared amidst the overhanging tree limbs and mounds of snow.

  He was gone only a few minutes when the skies opened. A faint distant rumbling preceded the first few drops of snowfall. Elise watched through the window, the flakes gathering intensity, thick and falling fast.

  She could feel the wound on her finger pulsate in time with her heartbeat. The pain was something new to her after all these years. She refused to let Victor, Liam, or anyone see that she was in agony. Too much pride still left in her.

  Victor adjusted the rear-view mirror; he could clearly see how uncomfortable she was. “Would you like to listen to some music?” he asked in a velvety tenor voice.

  Trying to be dignified, Elise nodded, “Thank you, Victor. That would be nice.”

  He switched on the radio, an easy listening instrumental channel. The sounds of a frugal horn filled the car. Elise recognized the tune; Chuck Mangione’s “Feels So Good.” It was a song Martin loved. She remembered dancing with him to it once in his study when they had a little too much to drink one night.

  “This ok?” Victor asked.

  “It’ll do,” she smiled.

  Suddenly, accompanied by the power of the music, Elise felt her pulse race out of control. She gasped as fright overcame her. Her legs shook violently. Her stomach growled. Her head pounded against the side window. She shoved her wounded finger into her mouth and rapidly sucked it dry. Then, her face began to twitch like a rabid hound.

  She looked at Victor. Her eyes demented, focused only on his throat, his succulent white skin, his BLOOD!

  “It will be over soon,” Victor said. “Try to be still. Listen to the music.”

  “FUCK YOU!” Elise screamed, but it was not her voice. It was the guttural sound of evil. “GIVE ME WHAT I WANT!”

  Victor smiled; he heard this voice many times before. It didn’t scare him, he knew it would pass. “Try to be still,” he said again in a very even tone, raising the volume of the music.

  Elise clenched her mouth shut, her eyes full of rage, red and smoky, a stick of dynamite set to explode. Then, she cried out Lucifer’s very own words, “I BESEECH YOU, DO NOT TORMENT ME!”

  “Isn’t this a great song?” Victor said, mockingly dancing in his seat.

  Elise flung herself with full force toward Victor only to slam headfirst into the glass partition which separated them.

  “Oops!” Victor said, continuing to sway. “That couldn’t have felt good.”

  “I CURSE YOU TO THE DEPTHS OF HELL!”

  “Sorry to burst your bubble,” Victor said. “You’re a little late. That happened a long, long time ago.”

  Elise rolled over onto the floor of the limo, panting, searching, craving the blood of man. With no options left to her, Elise shot from the floor like a cannon back to her seat. Crouching like a wolf on all fours, she dug her teeth into the rubbery leather beneath her. Like a fanatical beast sent from an unholy inferno of despair, she tore apart everything she could bite into. Chunks of cushion, vinyl and metal flew this way and that. Her hunger insatiable and unadulterated, the limo rocking with sadistic fury.

  Victor calmly lit a cigarette, observing her tantrum with the amusement of a schoolboy. “Knock yourself out, crazy lady… knock yourself out.” Lunging for Victor again, she crashed her forehead into the glass partition and did just that.

  Victor let out a huge belly-laugh as her eyes rolled over white. She moaned, reached for her head, wobbled and fell unconscious to the floor.

  An hour had passed, maybe two, maybe five. Elise couldn’t tell. The night vision she enjoyed as a vampire was suddenly gone. As she gathered herself off the floor, she noticed the dark of night flooding into the back of the limousine. It was black, the way mortals saw it, draining and vacant. As a vampire she basked in the glow of the moonlight, the dark was never sinister, the nighttime held no gloom. Now, it was over. Her dress ripped, her head pounding, the back of the limo completely destroyed. She knew what had happened. Elise was human again.

  Enveloped by approaching nightfall, she remembered her first night with Liam. The night he consecrated her with the gift of his blood. She thought back to how the twilight made her feel on that very first evening. There was an orgasmic euphoria that would always explode through her when she remembered the bliss of newfound vampire darkness.

  It was the early evening of January 20th, 1911. Elise was a mature looking seventeen year old. She was standing on the corner of a New York City block, she couldn’t remember exactly where. Henry Ford’s new Model-T automobile was all the rage. She watched in awe as a shiny black one beeped its horn and passed through a bustling crowd milling around the boulevard.

  Elise had a newspap
er in hand when Liam first approached her. “What are you reading?” he asked politely, adjusting his top hat and smiling broadly.

  “A story about Eugene B. Ely,” she answered.

  “Oh yes. He landed on the deck of the USS Pennsylvania a couple of days ago.”

  “You heard already?”

  “It is the first time an aircraft has landed on a ship. Quite a remarkable feat.”

  Elise buried her face back into the newspaper. She was shy; suddenly embarrassed by the attention this handsome stranger paid her.

  “Why are you talking to me?’ she asked, not trying to be rude, although it came out that way.

  “If you prefer not to talk, I will walk away.”

  “No,” Elise said, more quickly than she intended. “I don’t mind.”

  Liam forced himself not to stare at her long neck. He wanted her desperately. “What would you say if I told you I could grant you eternal love?”

  Elise laughed, “I would say you are insane. I’m not sure I believe in love at all. I cannot fathom the thought of such a thing being eternal.”

  “I know we have only just been acquainted, but I will be honest, I am truly captivated by your loveliness. May I be so bold as to offer you some dinner? I am in town only for a day or two. I would be honored to have your company. It may not be eternity just yet, but I promise you a delicious meal.”

  Elise smiled as Liam held out his arm. And just like that, off they went.

  Later that night, after dinning on rare steak and red wine, Elise experienced the most extreme lovemaking she would ever know. Into the night, their bodies designed the most fervent ballet of sexual enchantment, a metrical thrusting of forbidden pleasures and lustful fulfillment. They were deep in the throes of passion when Liam pressed his teeth deep into her neck. Completely captivated and under his spell, he then directed her to bite into his chest.

  She was a puppet on his string, lost in the ecstasy of his touch and losing all sense of awareness. “Let me take away your pain.” Liam whispered. “Drink from me and have eternal life, eternal beauty… eternal love.”