Angels of Death

A vampire story

Genevieve looked around her.  She could hear a whisper, like the sound of silk against bare skin.  She couldn’t see anything but she could swear she was being watched.  She shrugged it off, and went back to her book.  She had walked to the little park near her apartment to get some peace and quiet.  Her roommate, Tiffany, had invited her boyfriend over without asking and they were making out in front of the TV.  That’s the last thing Genevieve wanted to see.  It had been so long since anyone had touched her besides herself.  She was miserable.  It was hard making new friends when you’re as shy as she was.  She never went out.  Some people have told her she was pretty, but she didn’t see that.  Her long brown hair lay across delicate shoulders that had never felt the weight of a barbell.  Her lips were full and pink, but often pursed in an expression of distaste regarding something she was reading or observing.  Her small nose was pixie-ish and usually stuck in a mystery or horror novel along with her darkly lashed green eyes.  She liked comfortable clothes that were slightly baggy, which was easily accomplished on her small frame.  And she was very picky, which didn’t help matters in the romance department, hence the reason she was sitting at the park alone on a Saturday night at 10:00. 

The benches at this park weren’t particularly comfortable and she shifted her weight, crossing her right leg over her left and facing the opposite direction toward the pond.  She could barely see the moons reflection in the water due to the clouds that were rolling in, creating a slight fog.  Genevieve heard that whisper again and stared hard into the trees, sure there was someone out there watching her.  She didn’t see anything, though, and wondered if it was just the trees swaying in the slight breeze. 

The lamps on the far side of the park suddenly went out and she gasped in fright.  As if they were ghosts, four figures materialized out of the foggy darkness, walking slowly toward her with smiles on their faces.  Instead of feeling fear, a strange lethargy overcame her and she smiled back, a sense of anticipation tingling in her extremities.  Upon closer examination, Genevieve could see that there were two men and two women and they were all dressed in black.  They continued to move closer and as they did she studied them. 

The man on the left had short, auburn hair that fell across his eyes, which Genevieve thought was sexy.  He wore a leather motorcycle jacket with lots of zippers and tight jeans that disappeared into leather motorcycle boots.  The woman next to him was blonde and her hair hung straight down to the small of her back.  It swished as she walked, creating a golden curtain behind her.  She was also in leather but hers took the form of a sheath that hugged her every curve.  Genevieve didn’t know how she walked in stiletto boots in this grass, but she seemed to glide effortlessly over it.  The man in the middle was dark, with olive skin and black hair that hung to his shoulders.  He wore a long sleeved dress shirt, slightly unbuttoned, and dress pants that had a slight sheen in the moonlight.  The woman next to him was a brunette and her hair was short and curly.  Her dress brushed her ankles and surrounded her neck like a collar.

They reached her and she automatically went to them, finding them all desirable.  Funny, her pickiness didn’t concern her at all.  Genevieve had always harbored a secret lust for a woman’s touch and when the blonde reached out and stroked her cheek, she closed her eyes and focused on her silken caress.  Gently she lay upon the grass and felt them kneel around her.  Her clothes fell like whispers and she was exposed for their viewing pleasure.  She didn’t feel embarrassed, though, and when she looked up at their smiling faces and saw that their incisors had lengthened, she felt a flush of heat in her nether regions.  Her n*****s stood erect and she gasped as the dark one pinched them playfully. 

As if by an unspoken signal, their heads lowered as one and she felt the women’s hair brushing her breasts and the men’s brushing her thighs before she felt their teeth pierce her skin.  Genevieve whimpered in pain as they bit down but then was consumed by an unspeakable pleasure and she moaned loudly, arching her back.  She opened her eyes and the brunette lifted her head and smiled at her.  Genevieve could see her n****e covered in blood, the same blood that dripped from the brunette’s fangs, and knew it to be her own.  Instead of frightening her, it thrilled her and she lost herself to the sensations.  The redhead was between her thighs now and she was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure that burst through her.  She tried to capture every lick, every bite, every single sensation but it was too much for her human mind to keep up with.  She was lost in ecstasy.  Soon her body became weaker but the glow remained with her, and as the last of her blood was licked away Genevieve let out a soft moan and succumbed to the angels of death surrounding her.