Chapter 99 - The German Pornographer Tells All part 4

He went on to describe, in graphic detail, the ruination of Amelie.

Lukas and his cohorts continued to abuse and molest the child until all that remained was an inhuman thing, starved, mute, the hopeful young girl she once was consigned to drift like a ghost inside her own mind, howling inside the haunted house that was her skull. When she was used up, they called over a gentleman named Huang Zhiyua, who they intended to sell the remains to, but Mr. Zhiyua took only a brief perusal of the merchandise before walking away, holding his nose and flapping his hand in her direction. There was nothing left to do but dispose of the body then-- still living, yes, but little more than animate flesh.

Lukas left his flat at midnight—less than five hours ago—walking the girl onto the icy streets wrapped in nothing but a threadbare blanket. He'd raped her one last time before he decided it was time, and his semen still trickled down her thighs as she stumbled to his car like a zombie. When he opened the trunk and gestured for her to get in, Amelie climbed obediently inside.

She didn't fight. She didn't cry for help. She welcomed death. For her, it would be a relief, I'm sure. An end to hunger. An end to thirst. An end to shame and degradation.

This man, my captive, had just snapped her neck and tossed her into the Meuse when I spied him from my perch on an abandoned warehouse. When I flashed down from the snowy sky and snatched him from the ground, the impact knocked him unconscious. If I had not seen him murder such a beautiful child, and if he were not so beautiful himself, I probably would have killed him right there. Drained his blood on the roof of the abandoned warehouse and then flung his remains into the icy river with the body of the child. Instead, I was beguiled, and, despite my hunger, I wanted to know him, and I wanted to know the child he'd murdered so heartlessly. So I brought him to my home, leaving his car running on the pier. Leaving the child's steaming puddle of urine to freeze upon the grease-stained wharf.

When he had finished speaking, Lukas pulled a face and asked, "You have something to drink, Drac? My mouth is dry."

I rose without answering and walked into the kitchen to pour him a glass of water.

As I went, I curled forward a little, putting my hand upon my belly. My blood hunger was twisting me up inside. The pain was horrid, a wrenching, burning sensation in my guts. I did not know how much longer I could resist it before I was forced to consummate this brief affair.

Oh, what a mess it was going to make! When I'm this hungry, I'm a savage. He'll probably be torn to pieces!

Unless…

As I filled a glass with water, my mind seized upon an alternate plan. Something that would buy me a little more time with this beautiful villain. I grinned as it came into my thoughts, full blown and wonderful.

It would be apt, the justice of it both beautiful and brilliant.

As I returned to the bedroom, Lukas eyed me nervously. "I don't like the way you're looking at me, Count," he said as I approached him.

I smiled. I didn't bother to hide my fangs. "You shouldn't."

I held the glass to his lips and allowed him to drink. As his Adam's apple bobbed, I stared at the veins in his neck and temple, throbbing almost imperceptibly beneath his flesh. My free hand wandered toward his throat and I jerked it back to my side.

He gasped when I took the glass away. I turned to set it on my dresser and he belched softly and excused himself.

"We have a little problem, you and I," I told him.

"How's that?"

"I don't believe I can resist killing you much longer," I said.

He stared at me without expression. "That sucks," he replied.

I laughed softly as I sat back down on the edge of my bed. "I have a proposition for you. Something that may allow me to converse with you a little longer."

"And what's that?" he asked suspiciously.

"I want you to call your friend Hans. I have a cell phone. I will dial his number for you. You will call him and invite him here to my home. I will give you the address. Tell him… Oh, I don't know." I waved my hand absently. "Tell him you met some lovely young women, but there are two of them, and they'd like him to come over and join the party. Tell him whatever you think will convince him to come."

"You're planning to kill him and drink his blood so we can talk a little while longer," Lukas said. The viciousness of my proposal made him grin. There was a look, too, of fascination on his face, as if I'd promised him a magic show.

I rose and drifted toward the balcony doors. "Of course."

"Maybe I don't want to talk anymore. Maybe I'd rather just get it over with," he suggested.

"Do you really want to die right now?" I asked, turning suddenly toward him.

He took in my gleaming gold eyes, my white shriveled flesh and long, curved fangs, and thought better of it. Shaking his head, he stammered, "N-no. I guess not. I'll call him."

"I thought as much."

Lukas squinted at me. "He's a big fucker," he said.

I walked to the fireplace and picked up one of the pokers. Smiling mildly, I bent it into a U shape. I flexed it, then snapped it in two and tossed the pieces on the floor with a clatter.

"Fuck," he wheezed.

"I'll go get my cell phone," I told him, striding across the floor.

He stopped me as I reached the doorknob. "I'll do it, but I have one condition," he called out to me suddenly, speaking in a rush.

I put my hand on the doorframe. I didn't look at him. "And what would that be?" I asked.

"I want to watch you do it," he whispered behind me.

I smiled, but it was not a smile of amusement. It was a smile of despair. "Of course," I murmured. "If that's what you'd like."