The banner is something new for me. It is a manipulation of a 3D program called DAZ this is my first publishing of a picture i hope to get better.
Author ken_r or ken242
Rating: adult
Genre: AU with out aliens
Conventional couples
Disclaimer: the character names are from Roswell TV show and many books. The story is mine.
A young vampire awakens from a 200 year sleep. He must seek his fortune in a strange world and find other of his kind. He discovers good and evil in both humans and his own species. Don’t take this as a serious vampire story. I needed some fun so I took a very old story of mine and redid it. I hope you can enjoy it.
The young Vampire
Chapter 1
There was an old warehouse. It had been in Boston since the British were Taxing Tea in the 1700’s. it was owned by a family who had had members in the Daughters of the Revolution since they had started. The man who built it and his family were very hard working and they had made a lot of money. Alden Stallweather had been a merchant and he had bought tea from the British and then sold information to the revolutionaries. The Stallweathers had always been very neutral especially when there was money to be made. Alden had always been generous to the sea captains who came to port. They, in turn would insure that their cargos would be off loaded and stored in his warehouses. Alden was never above setting a little fire at the establishment of his competitors and there was a time when he could almost be called a monopolist. The shear volume of business and the labor of accounting of the day caused a trunk to fall off the pallet where it had been stored. That and the murder of the Merchant to whom the cargo was to be delivered just before he could claim it, caused no one to notice that the trunk no longer was part of the manifest.
The merchant to whom the cargo was bound was one of those strange races. Not proper English nor of the cursed French or Spanish. He wasn’t of a proper race at all. There was something about being Translyvanian or something like that. He claimed he lived in the Hapsburg Monarchy where ever that was. The Stallweathers didn’t feel they owed any loyalty to such as he and when his death was announced, his shipment was seized and sold for storage cost. The costs of which were a mere tenth of the value the cargo brought. The Stallweathers were happy and the missing trunk was never mentioned.
After the revolution, the British became the cursed and the French became the beloved and the Stallweathers just kept making money from everyone with whom they dealt. Stallweather started sending goods to Santa Fe and now it was the Spanish who became beloved. His loyalities changed course as often as did the politics of finance. When the civil war came, Stallweather opened another warehouse. He was keeping the one in Boston, but he also had one in Atlanta. At the first of the War, he couldn’t tell which way it would finally blow. Stallweather sponsored the underground railroad and was responsible for freeing many slaves to Canada. He also was the owner of one of the last slave ships which brought it’s human cargo to the south. By the time the twentieth century arrived, Stallweather was running foodstuffs to England and also selling steel to the Kaiser. By the end of the twentieth century, Stallweather had aided and cheated almost everyone in the world. The second to the last Stallweather was killed giving aid to terrorists and the last Stallweather changed his name to Starke and went to Kansas to be a wheat farmer.
The Yankees had already done the deed over 150 years ago by burning the warehouse in Atlanta, so the city of Boston decided to condemn the one warehouse remaining in its fair city. The building was to be torn down so the city of Boston removed all the goods and held an abandoned property sale. Most of the goods went to antique dealers who received a hefty return, but there was one smelly, dilapidated old trunk, which no one would buy. They weren’t even interested in opening the trunk. The city fathers commissioned the junk man to just take the trunk to a dump and dispose of it. It would have been terrible if they had decided to incenerate it or to crush it or in other ways remove any traces of the old trunk from the Earth. As it was, the junk man just drove the old trunk, out into the country side and pushed it off the truck letting it fall down a shallow gully. He quickly returned. His wages had already been acquired and he had plenty of time to meet the boys for several pints at the local bar.
The trunk broke open with the fall. Nothing happened near the trunk until night fall then Maximillian crawled out and took a breath, the first one he had taken in almost 200 years. Max was young for his species. He was young also because in the 300 years since he had been spawned, almost 200 years had been in suspended animation. Max had been locked in that trunk since the early 1800s. He remembered the persecutions of the time and how all of his race had sought shelter where they could. He also remembered the old merchant who led him to the trunk with promises of a new world where they wouldn’t even know of his kind. Max folded himself into the trunk and suspended his life and that was the last he remembered before rudely being shaken up and bruised as the trunk rolled down the side of the gully. It was dark so Max opened his eyes until they could receive enough light to see in the starlight as well as most could see in daylight. Two hundred years, now Max didn’t know exactly how many years he had been in the trunk, but his metabolism told him it had been a really, really long time! The waxy substance which kept his joints moving was loosened by the warm night air. Soon, Max could travel as well as ever, but he knew that now that he had resuscitated, he was going to need nourishment. Any blood would do but what he later learned was now called AB-Negative would be a true delight. Just like Eskimos had dozens of words for snow because it was so important, Max’s race had many words for types of blood. Why, you ask? Max was a very young vampire who had just lost 200 years of his existence and, thus, education. Now, he was in a strange country with no others of his race to guide him.
Maximillian remembered his first and only hundred years of which he had knowledge. He remembered the true, blue blood of Europe. There was Marie Antoinette, the child wife of Louis XVI of France. Maximillian had met her at a masked ball. He had received that much education from his elders. At mask balls, the patrons were unknown to each other and, thereby, liaisons could be established without question or embarrassment. The ease of feasting was also the danger. The low cut dresses of the beautiful women displayed their beautiful throats, which to a young creature like Maximillian looked like a table set for a royal feast. He remembered those soft round breasts and those ruby lips. Truly, it would have been nice if they had occasionally bathed, but to some the fragrance was just the bouquet of the meal. In the eastern countries, it had been reported that the vampire would just attack and feed upon his prey, usually taking their life. There was all that screaming and carrying on. The elders who raised Maximillian had insisted he be a gentleman. True, if God hadn’t wanted them bled, he would have given them tougher skin, but if you took a person you should return to that person something. Only if necessary, should you drain your prey so they would die. If you went around killing every time you fed, the prey got pissed off and there were burnings and staking. There would be those like that silly Buffy girl who Max didn’t know yet, but would soon hear about, who would retaliate. Besides, if a vampire was clever and charming, he could sometimes find a willing host for years and years of feasting All he had to do was give her dreams and memories of love, lust and seduction. There was that beautiful child, Marie. He had attended the mask ball as the elder had told him. He was a gentlemen and old king Louis was drunk, slobbering over several giggly women when Max saw the lovely creature. The lovely queen was surrounded by courtiers, many who would share her favor if the king got drunk enough. Maximillian just walked through the crowd. He extended his gloved hand and, with his hypnotic powers, caused her previous admirers to retreat. Max waltzed her out on to the dance floor even if they considered the waltz bit scandalous at that time. Marie giggled like the little girl she was. They circled the floor several times. Max saw that the king was really down in his cups so Max sent a little suggestion. The king collapsed on top of three women who were trying to support him.
It was but a minute when Max found himself in her private quarters. Marie was still giggling as the thoughts Max was imparting to her became more and more fanciful. She was beginning to think of pleasures which would be physically impossible to accomplish. Max soon had her out of her clumsy dress and all the under pinnings. Max was showering her with kisses and tasting every morsel of her as he did so. True, she was a bit gamey for one so young, but Max could taste the blue blood running through her veins even before he made his intrusion. First, Max prepared her. He pummeled her and messaged her until she was so ready she couldn’t stand it. The old king was lucky to even get it up nowadays and he couldn’t sustain the up for long enough to make it exciting. The courtiers tried, but they were bound by their lack of imagination and their limited human ability. Max had none of these limitations. After he had prepared the queen, he covered her and with his physical ability enhanced by his mental ability, the queen climaxed several times before Max had really began. The sex for Max was with very little feeling. The feeling you saved to impart to the prey. The only time a creation of life would happen between a vampire and a human would be if both of them were truly in love. There would be no fear of that happening with this silly creature. After max had screwed her over and over, at least in her mind, and she had felt love stronger than she had ever felt before, Marie passed out. Her dreams were of heights of physical love which would remain with her the rest of her life, as short as that was to be.
Max didn’t grow fangs or anything. His incisors were incredibly sharp and his diaphragm was incredibly strong. With that a little incision in her neck and the application of tremendous suction, Max was filled with the bluest of blood. The saliva Max produced was a perfect cauterizing agent. True, she would have to wear a scarf around her neck for a few days, but that was the trade off for the memories of real and imagined love she felt. It was later that Max heard those damned revolutionaries had chopped off her beautiful head and let that precious, delicious blood run upon the ground. Max hated them for that if for no other purpose.
Yes, the elders had taught Max a lot in the first hundred years. But for the long life of a vampire, there was so much more to learn. Revolution was happening and Europe was in turmoil. The Church was condemning vampires and the peasantry was organizing against them. Max was given an opportunity to go to a new world, one where vampires were virtually unknown. Max took the chance and it was only bad luck that he wound up in the 21st century where few, except for cults of writers and other groupies, even believed in him.
Max shook his head. Thinking of the tasty queen had been a mistake. He was starving and he needed to find something soon or he might just turn into dust and no one would even know he had been alive in this time period.
Max could feed on animals if necessary, but though the necessity might demand, the pleasure that should always go with dining would not be there. Of course, Max had tried animals. All young vampires tried animals at one time or the other. It was like a rite of passage. There was movement in the nearby field. Max was desperate. He remembered his mother when she had caught him with a sheep. The disgust in her eyes hurt him deeply. His father with a, “boys will be boys” look, simply laughed it off. After his mother had left though his father gave him a lecture. Sheep are the worst animal to feed upon. The oil in the wool would always taint the blood. If Max felt the need to feed on his own, he should at least look for a cow or a horse or some animal with short hair. Then, his father cleared his throat. When Max really felt he was able to feed alone he should look to one of the girls who served the manor. The milk maids were the best tasting. They were also the hornist and easiest to seduce. As he had done since Max could remember, his father droned on, “Remember, only take a little and preserve your prey. Return to her memories and experiences she will not find among her own kind.” Then Max’s father frowned that famous look that could chill the bones of any saint. “There are men but we hope you will not have need to sup upon those of your own sex. Now remember your Uncle Jeb, your mother’s brother? He only supped on men. There was something about Jeb. He just was the strange one of the family.”
Max proceeded into the field. As he approached the cows they stomped their displeasure. Max softly started singing a song his race had learned from Pan. The song was guaranteed to quiet the savage beast. The cows quieted down and Max approached. He put an arm around one and it brought back guilty memories and the look in his mother’s eyes when she caught him with the sheep. Max was weak. He needed something quick and these animals were the only thing close. Max placed his lips against the neck of the beast. The same lips that so many years ago had graced the neck of the child queen. He steeled himself. He nipped at the flesh. It was thicker than he had remembered, so he just took a bite. The animal shuddered, but the touch of Max quickly quieted the animal again. He sucked and started nursing at the wound. It hit him. This blood was the worst he had ever tasted. Max knew nothing of the modern methods of husbandry but he did know that the blood of this animal was spoiled, almost beyond his ability to stand it. If he hadn’t needed nourishment so badly, he would have fled this location and quietly retched that which he had already ingested. The growth hormones, additives and antibiotics that the animal had in its blood might help it to grow better and healthier. They, also, would completely protect the animal from vampires except for those with a 200 year old hunger.
As soon as Max felt that he had enough energy that he could move on, he took his upset metabolism and his guilt and walked on down the road. His acute hearing picked the tinkle of a woman’s giggle. His curiosity pricked, Max crossed the fence and walked toward the sound. The night was completely dark. But to Max and his augmented vision, it was bright as day. Before him there was spread a blanket. There was a lantern beside the blanket. On the blanket was a maiden stark naked. Beside her was a hunking oaf of a man. Both of them seemed young. Both were at the play of love. The man stood up and she whimpered. “Shad, you just went a few minutes ago.”
“I know, Maybeth, but its all those beers I drank while ago. They just keep hitting me. How do you expect me to get it up when all I can think of is I just gotta go? I gotta drain the lizard, Maybeth. You just wait right there and I will be right back.
As the youth walked into the darkness just beyond the sight of the blanket and his intended, Max came up behind him. He touched him at the base of the skull and Shad just went to sleep.
Maybeth saw the figure coming out of the darkness. She heard the humming. There was something about that tune. It sure wasn’t something Shad would be able to sing. When Max came into view, Maybeth sucked in her breath. She always knew that Shad was not much, but with four brothers there weren’t many of the young men who would brave her charms at he risk of the beating they would receive if her brothers ever found out. Maybeth was sure part of Shad’s bravery was his stupidity, but he was all she had, and at the moment, she wanted lovin. Now, before her was one of the handsomest men she had seen in a long time. She raised up on her elbows peering at him. He had such a wonderful smile. He hadn’t said a thing. He just started taking off his shirt and then his pants. He didn’t appear to be wearing anything under the pants so his manhood was now displayed before her. In her irrational mind, Maybeth wondered if a fairy godmother had touched Shad and turned him into a handsome prince but no, even a fairy godmother couldn’t improve that much on Shad. As Max lay beside her, her mind was flooded with diversions and perversions such that she had never imagined. The love he imparted ruined Maybeth for weeks against the country love she could get from the local men. She, of course, never knew when he nipped at her neck and, then, he sucked a hickey and drained almost a pint of blood from the young maiden. The blood definitely was not blue and it was tainted with something. Max was familiar with the taste, but it took him a while to place it. Cannabis, that is what it was. Max frowned because in his youth he had met those who smoked this drug, but they were usually of a much different society than he perceived this maiden to be. As he rose up on his elbows, he examined her neck. The smooth flesh that had tasted so good after so long a time, was already healing. His saliva had already started the wound to close and the anesthetic that also was in his saliva had allowed the maiden to feel absolutely nothing. Max stood, allowing her to gaze upon his body. Putting on his shirt first, then his shoes and finally his pants covering his manhood. As he then knelt and took her head in one hand he kissed her and then gently laid her back down. Then, Max just disappeared into the night.
When Shad finally came around back into the light of the lantern he saw a dreamy Maybeth sitting looking into the night. “I am sorry Maybeth. I guess I just passed out. We can try now. I am ready.”
Maybeth just looked at him with a dreamy expression. “No, not tonight Shad I think I want to go back in the house and dream a bit. Maybe some other time.” And she pulled on her clothes and slowly walked back to the lights of her house, leaving a naked and confused Shad wondering what he had done.