Page 8 of Cryptic Dreams

Perhaps it was because they were engaged.

It has been ages since I’ve played with arealcouple, a couple that has been together far longer than a night or two, and especially one that is so clearly in love and willing to deepen that bond by experimenting together. Their affection for each other was genuine and it led me to stick around and watch them tend to each other, the almost sweet interaction after hours of beautifully painful pleasure piquing my curiosity.

It was intriguing really, the way our encounter didn’t faze them, didn’t alter the connection they so clearly share, and if anything it seemed to strengthen it, cemented their love in stone before they left through my secret entrance, hand in hand with matching smiles on their faces.

That alone should have me feeling satisfied. Knowing my session went off without a hitch and I was able to empty my balls repeatedly because of it, but then throw in the fact that the only heartbeats I heard in the great room were the slow and steady rhythm of my coven, the scarce few human ones so faint they would stop shortly after my own departure—thus putting my plan into motion—I should be beside myself with joy.

I am pleased, don’t get me wrong.

The events of this day have the potential to push me closer to achieving my ultimate goal and for that I am glad, yet there is still this hollow, empty feeling swirling in the pit of my stomach and slowly spreading to my chest.

My subs performed well.

I had my knob played with until he exploded.

I set up most of my coven and the Great Counsel to fall in a most disgraceful way.

Yet, I am melancholy.How peculiar.

I lift my hand to my bare chest and rub hard over my heart.

I do not understand this emptiness, this restless need, this hollow void. It is most unusual for someone like me to experience such things, for a Descendant to feel anything at all let alone as though something ismissingfrom my life.

It’s there though.

This foreign lack of contentment, it is there, it is growing, and I have no idea where it came from or how to stop it.

It seems as though I will be going out again tonight.

That was not my plan. I had no plans at all really, other than my intent to sit in my private home and read while I waited for the VSUST to come banging on my door with news of slaughter and many questions. I’ve even been practicing my look of surprise for the exact occasion as a matter of fact, but it seems as though my plans have changed.

With a sigh, I grab my phone from the bedside table and check the time.

Plasma should be opening soon—the vampire nightclub that caters to my every whim and fancy. It doubles as a sort of sex club as well and it’s where I found that couple last night, where I find all the humans that wish to sate their morbid curiosity and entertain their darkest desires by mingling with theblood suckersmost would happily see exterminated.

I typically don’t have the need to find new submissives so soon after such an exceptional session, but this ache in my chest says otherwise.

It seems as though I will be going out tonight in order to find a few more willing participants, so that I might quell this need I can’t seem to shake.

I must finally be going mad.

All it took was nearly fifteen hundred years and a bloody fucking war that turned my kind into a freak show restricted under human laws to do it.

My plan can’t move quick enough because this need, thisitch,must be scratched before I succumb to my lunacy completely.

3

Most Peculiar

WRAITH

As luck would have it, Plasma is packed to the gills.

Not that I should be surprised, it is a Saturday night in New Orleans, and while autumn slowly turns to winter, the occasional and slight chill in the air isn’t enough to deter the thrill seekers and party goers. If anything, I’ve learned this time of year brings them out more frequently because they grow bored with the lack of festivals and activity the city is so well known for. So, the masses turn to places like this, the more deviant finding a way to fill their time amongst the population that would just as well stay isolated from them most nights.

Not here, though.

The ratio of vampire to human is roughly three to one but for the most part, the warm blooded patrons are our supporters, those who fight alongside us for equality and a voice that is actually heard.