Copyright © 2013 by Michael Litzky
Sally unzipped Lavinia’s jacket, stopping to stroke the emblem of Odin’s raven, which just might have brought her beloved back to her. But then she pushed the jacket off Lavinia’s shoulders and Lavinia let her lead.
Sally didn’t even think about going under. She unbuttoned Lavinia’s blouse and opened it like it was the first time she’d seen Lavinia’s nakedness. She delighted in the feel of Lavinia’s heavy breasts, the way they filled her hand, the way Lavinia arched her back as she touched them. She ran her hands over them, felt their electric lusciousness, stooped to take one in her mouth. Lavinia’s tongue was on the side of her neck as her hands ran through Sally’s straight black hair.
Then Lavinia pressed her lips to Sally’s neck.
Sally tried to reassure herself with the sound of Lavinia’s heartbeat, the warmth of Lavinia’s chest against her ear. But Lavinia understood instantly and put her lips to Sally’s ear. “You’re delicious but not that way,” she murmured. “I’m not hungry at all. God, it’s so great!” Sally realized that Lavinia didn’t understand yet. Sitting up, she told her with great delight.
Lavinia surprised her by looking dismayed. “You don’t gotta say that, baby. I know what I am. Don’t tell me even sweet fibs, okay?” The van still rocked annoyingly and the voices from outside never stopped. “Let us in, you are one of us, invite us in.”
“I’m not making it up! You have a heartbeat, you’re warm, you have blood enough to blush. You’re cured. Darling, you’re alive!”
Lavinia shook her head. “But I still got the teeth.” She ran her tongue over them just to be sure. “Yep, still there. And I still got ….” Her brow creased.
Smiling, Sally watched her run through the other symptoms and realize they were all gone. “I’m not hungry any more. I’m not outside. I can live with the fucking teeth. Oh my God, baby!” She was crying now. “Oh my God, oh my god, c’mere, c’mere, oh my God.”
She pulled Sally to her and they cried together, oblivious to the noise outside. The back doors rattled, fists pounded against the windows, the driver’s side door croaked and groaned. Sally by now had seen Charla Thorpe’s video and if the noise became annoying enough, she would remind the vampires that they could not invade a home with noise. For the moment she didn’t care. She kissed her lover, her future wife, as she cried, and she cooperated with all her heart when the tears sizzled into sexual heat.
“Get naked,” Lavinia commanded, and Sally, not caring what role she was or wasn’t in, was on fire to do just that, mind filled with the image of pushing her pussy into Lavinia’s face and demanding this time that Lavinia shove her fingers up her now. She lifted up to pull her jeans and panties off and saw that the driver’s side door was open –
“Holy Jesus!” Sally yelled, slamming painfully into action.
She lunged past the startled Lavinia, thinking she had somehow left the door open. She was just remembering that she hadn’t touched it but that it didn’t matter if the vampires opened it because they couldn’t come in — when she saw a hungry white face slip in sideways, as though it were angling through a nebulous barrier.
She froze in horrified disbelief. She’d perforated the vampire magic by inviting Lavinia in, she realized. The face looked around, blinked, then grinned evilly at her. “You can’t come in. You’re not invited. Get out!” Sally snarled.
The face kept its knowing grin and slid another inch into her home. Behind her, she heard Lavinia’s breath catching and catching again. The passenger door clunked, then slowly croaked open too.
“No!” Sally screamed. “Out! All vampires, out! No single vampire is welcome in this home. Out!”
The face was shoved out by an invisible hand. But she heard a stirring from behind her and her heart stopped.
With a force which pressed Sally’s ribs painfully against the seat top, Lavinia was relentlessly moved to the open driver’s door and pushed out into the night.
Horrified, Sally saw it all in slow motion. For just an instant, bathed in the dim light from the open camper, Lavinia stood with her hands at her sides, bawling like a baby, pushed past the point of emotional breaking. Then the other vampires were on her, for they smelled the living blood.
Strong Lavinia had no fight left in her. She vanished in a pile of white skin.
The wet sounds as her beloved was ripped into pieces would haunt her all her life.
Unless she committed certain suicide by going out among them.
Sally threw herself out the door without even the conscious thought that she would die before losing Lavinia again. “Baby, I’m coming, fight them!” She landed on cold writhing flesh and started ripping and tearing. “You’re still welcome in our home, just you, so fight them, fight them, baby.” This far from a city or town, there were only ten or so vampires, not hundreds.
She grabbed a jerking head and without hesitation bit its ear half off so that it gasped in pain (she only discovered later how crucial that was). Hatred raged in her and she bit another’s throat clean through with a dreadful crunch and hurled the quivering body to the side.
Nauseated, spitting out the awful taste, she pulled off another one and clawed at its face, feeling savage joy at the way its skin rent with the force of her fingers. The milling bodies came off of Lavinia and, for an instant, Sally saw the revived fire in her eyes and hoped they could win.
Lavinia was bleeding from a neck wound (if the vampire at her throat hadn’t opened his mouth to gasp, he would have torn her throat out as she ripped him away) but she hadn’t given up any more.
Hands grabbed at Sally from all sides. She kicked and connected with a crotch, whirled and dragged cold heavy weight with her, punched out blindly but hit nothing, rolled and pulled bodies with her, bit viciously at hands which pulled back her head, spat out still-wriggling fingers, bit again.
She became aware that she was going to lose.
Everything moved slowly as the mass of bodies dragged her to the ground. She was still glad she’d come for Lavinia. Was there an afterlife? Would Lavinia join her there? She held before her eyes the memory of Lavinia’s face. It had been worth it.
From behind her came a thick voice. “Vampires,” it said weakly.
All motion stopped. Lavinia’s voice. “Vampires. You’re welcome … in my home,” Lavinia said while Sally gaped in horror. “Go.”
From every assembled vampire came a hissing “Aaaahhhh!” They surged toward the camper, fighting each other to get in, wriggled over the seats into the rear. From inside the rocking vehicle came little squeals of pleasure and cries of “Ooohh, a bed,” and “Cabinets!”
In twenty seconds there was not a vampire in the entire parking lot. The camper looked like a 1950s “how many teenagers can cram into a phone booth” picture as it rocked itself to sleepy stillness.