Chapter 1

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, NonConsensual, Rape, Slavery, Lesbian, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Science Fiction, Superhero, Extra Sensory Perception, Paranormal, Vampires, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Rough, Light Bond, Sadistic, Torture, Snuff, Gang Bang, Orgy, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Water Sports, Necrophilia, Exhibitionism, Body Modification, Public Sex, Violent, Transformation, .

Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Author's note: Before you read further, be advised that this story contains brutal, violent and graphically detailed savagery committed against women.

The sun had been set for less than an hour; the crisp, evening breeze foretelling an early frost. Matthew had been in Gallatin Heights for ten days, now, and was looking for another bit of action before moving on.

He had been many places – cities and towns, and he liked the small towns best. The people were wary at first, but quickly warmed to his easy smile, his twinkling blue eyes and rugged appearance. No one would take him for a serial killer – especially not the women who were attracted to him.

It was an easy life; moving from town to town, finding lonely women, sometimes even moving in with them, gaining access to their resources – bank accounts, credit cards – and then...

He had met his most recent conquest, Angela, at a local bar – the Target Club. Close-cropped red hair, bright green nails, lipstick and eyelashes to match. She stood there waiting for his order, looking at him like he was a tempting and illegal afternoon snack. They liked each other right off and he flirted with her all evening. When it was her turn to go on stage, he whistled and applauded like everyone else, but he watched her face – not her tits or her bare ass. She liked that about him. By the end of her shift, she'd agreed to go out with him, although she knew it was against the club rules to patronize the patrons.

He didn't need her to take him home, as, a few days earlier, Matthew had discovered the perfect place for his lair – an abandoned building, part of a factory just outside the city limits of Gallatin Heights. The basement was all concrete, no windows and with doors of heavy steel. He had no idea what had been manufactured in this dark, deserted place, nor did he care. It provided a place for his ... activities, and lots of privacy. No need to expose himself to nosy neighbors or friends of whatever delightful, soon-to-be deceased plaything he might bring here.

Of course, Angela had tried to run as soon as he stopped the car, but he was very athletic and she was very terrified – too terrified to concentrate on running, or even defending herself. She actually had a gun in her purse, but she fumbled it and he easily, laughingly, took it away from her. Then he dragged her into the building, kicking and screaming.

Once inside his concrete sanctuary, he actually turned her loose. She immediately attacked him, trying to subdue him quickly with kung-fu-like moves, like she may have seen on TV or in the movies. But Matthew knew all the moves for real and enjoyed playing with her – kicking, bruising, throwing the terrified young stripper around. He really liked brutalizing a young girl when she had enough spirit to fight him. He loved the excitement of a girl fighting him for her life, so he never used restraints or gags, preferring instead to just beat her into submission. The longer and harder a girl fought, the more satisfying it was when she was finally subdued.

After the first few moments, Angela cracked completely. She simply backed into a corner, whimpering, and let him rape her. She begged. She pleaded. She promised him everything, but she was too terrified to fight him anymore, even when – especially when – he pulled the long, serrated commando blade out of his boot.

He took a long time cutting her and listening to her scream. When Angela fainted for the fifth time from the sight of her own blood, Matthew was so upset with her lackluster performance that he butchered her, chopping her into little pieces, starting with her fingers and arms until she finally bled to death. He tossed her remains into three trash bags and threw them into the middle of the street on the other side of town.

Now, Matthew was back at the same little strip club, determined to get a pretty girl with some real fight in her. Strippers were his specialty; teasing, taunting, never delivering – using their tits, their painted lips, their teasing hair and their promises of sexual delight to steal the dreams of their customers, along with their money. These females deserved everything they got from him. Matthew considered himself the avenging angel for all men, making certain each captured tormentor of men delivered everything, including her life, to him.

There was one particular female he'd noticed the last time. An 'exotic dancer', she preferred to be called, rather than 'stripper'. She did have some class on stage – instead of stripping off her skimpy outfit, she'd actually cut it off with a knife; very similar to the one he planned to use on her later – so perhaps she was justified in insisting that she be called an exotic dancer.

Bet she spent a fortune on costumes, he thought, then sneered as he realized that the money she might spend on costumes came from her patrons – the victims of her sexy wiles.

She was a tiny, black-haired girl with large, almond-shaped eyes that seemed to see delight in everything. She was intoxicating, exuberant – a tormentor so full of life that he knew butchering her would be the single biggest thrill of his morbid, painful existence. She enjoyed victimizing men far too much to be allowed to live for another day.

She was small; not bony, but 'petite' and only five feet tall. Her olive skin, black hair and eyes indicated a definitely mixed racial background. She could have been an Arabic princess or, more likely, mixed Semitic and French, considering that the French had spent the last couple of centuries mixing their blood with almost everyone else's on the planet, especially in the Middle East, creating some truly exotic, stunning, racially mixed women.

'Béla, ' she said her name was, had an adventurous look in her eyes that told him she searched out excitement and liked getting into trouble. Tonight, he would give her more excitement and a lot more trouble than she ever could imagine.

Wearing only a G-string and black mesh stockings with bright red 'fuck me now' heels and straps that went halfway up to her knees, she sat, straddling his lap, her body filled with so much sexual energy that she could barely sit still. Some part of her always seemed to be moving or swaying in some sensuous manner.

"What would you like to do to me," she whispered into his ear, "if we were alone, and you could do anything you wanted?"

Although he was startled at her odd question, he felt strangely compelled to tell his sweet tormentor the truth of what he planned for her. When he did, she'd pressed her naked breasts against him and kissed him passionately, right on the lips. Then she sat up, undulating her hips and belly in that incredibly sexy manner that seemed to belong to her, alone.

"Like this?" she asked, almost whispering with her eyes full of wonder.

She sensuously raked her thumbnail up from her pelvis to her rib cage, leaving a red welt on her skin as she ground her pelvis against him. Her face was flushed as well as her breasts, and her breathing was heavy as she mimicked his gutting of her. Her eyes glowed with excitement as they gazed steadily into his. He was sure she'd just had an orgasm, right there on top of him, straddling his lap with her sexy, tightly laced legs.

Later, Matthew watched her dance on the stage, fascinated with her, imagining little rivulets of blood running down her writhing torso where he would stab her repeatedly. After she came off stage, Béla invited him into a special room in the back to act out his fantasy, offering to be his very own, personal Target Girl – for a price, of course. He declined, suspecting it to be a trap.

When she then offered her 'services' for free, he was certain that it was a trap and she was attempting to catch her friend's killer all on her own. Well, he would give her the chance to let him act out his 'fantasy', but not here. However, she wasn't too keen on meeting up with him, later. She preferred to practice her perversions on her own turf.

Not to be disappointed, Matthew made friends with the bartender and found out the time this Béla girl got off and caught her in the alley behind the bar on her way home. A fist in the face, a kick in her stomach and she was out cold. When she woke up, she was lying on a cold, concrete floor. She groaned, not too loudly, but loud enough to attract Matthew's attention.

"Ah, you're awake," Matthew grinned at her. "Good!"

Béla grunted as he kicked her in the side. She realized that the kick was intended to infuriate her rather than incapacitate her – it wasn't that hard a kick. The one he'd given her behind the bar after he'd knocked her to the ground had been much heavier and more brutal, intended to completely incapacitate her. Even though she'd seen that one coming and rolled with it as much as she could, he'd still knocked her senseless.

"Get up, whore!" Matthew yelled as he kicked her bare midriff again.

Béla grunted at the impact and groaned a protest as she tried to rise to her feet. She staggered upright and fell back against the concrete wall, staring around at her surroundings in a dazed manner.

"You're ... Matthew?" Béla asked, deliberately sounding unsure of herself. The more he believed she was helpless, the more likely she could surprise him later.

"Yeah," Matthew grinned. "And you're dead meat, stripper-slut!"

"Where are we?" Béla asked, looking around, not realizing she'd given away part of her over-friendly personality. She was the first girl he'd ever captured who included him in her question. Every other self-centered beauty had asked, 'Where am I?' But the answer he gave this one was the same answer he always gave. One question wasn't going to absolve her of the penalty she owed – that all women owed.

"This is your tomb, slut," he informed her. "This is where I've brought you to die."

There were no windows, and only the one iron door on the opposite wall, incidentally behind Matthew. The cold dampness of the concrete and the smell of stale moisture told her the room was probably underground. It could well be a tomb, and probably had been for Angela as well.

"Angela?" she asked, deciding to find out.

Matthew grinned. "She was weak, and wouldn't even fight for her life. She bled for hours before I let her die, and she died screaming. If you fight well, slut, I'll let you die less painfully than she did."

"You want to fight me?" Béla asked, less afraid of him, now. "Wouldn't you rather have me dance for you? You know – your own private show?"

"You'll dance and twist your belly back and forth while I cut you up!" Matthew snarled, wondering why this stripper-slut wasn't more terrified.

Then he laughed as the girl seriously seemed to consider what he'd just said. It was a cruel sound, and he informed her, "I don't fight 'girls', they fight me! I just crush 'em, and beat 'em, and make 'em bleed. Girls are too weak for me to fight! They are only good for killing! Killing and fucking!"

"Don't you mean that the other way around?" Béla asked with a sly grin, trying to get his goat.

The snarling grin on his face widened, telling her that he preferred the sequence of actions in the order he'd stated them. Any girl he took would be killed, then dead-fucked.

Matthew was pleased with the concerned expression on the stripper's face, now. The stupid slut was in serious trouble, and she'd finally figured that out. Still, she took him by surprise when she leaped straight at him, knocking him halfway across the room as she bolted for the door.

Of course, the iron door was locked, and the girl's cry of frustration turned into one of surprise and terror when he grabbed her from behind by her hair and slammed her against the wall. Using his weaker, left hand, he slapped her back and forth across her face, listening with pure pleasure to each yelp of pain and indignation each blow wrested from her.

On the forth swing to backhand her face yet again, the little stripper, instead of sliding down the wall in a state of battered pain and confusion, grabbed his incoming arm with both hands and took a good-sized chunk of flesh out of his left wrist with her teeth.

Matthew roared with pain and swept his right arm down and across her face, hitting her much harder than he had up until now, slamming her backward and watching with smug satisfaction as she bounced off the concrete wall with a surprised, stunned expression on her face and fell forward. He'd hit her so hard that her face was bleeding from the cuts his knuckles had made in her flesh.

"No more playin', Bitch!" he snarled at her, pulling that commando blade out of his boot. "Now you die!"

He savagely slashed at her face, intending to cut right through her bloody mouth, only to discover he missed her completely as she dropped to her knees and launched forward to tackle him around the waist. The impact drove him backward several steps, but he didn't fall. The fierce little slut simply didn't have the mass or body weight to bring him down with a move like that.

Then Matthew roared again as the girl sank her teeth into his ribcage and tore another mouthful of flesh away. Bringing down an elbow and fist down into her back broke her grip on him and she slid down his legs, scratching and biting him all the way to the floor.

He brutally kicked her back against the wall again, grinning as he saw all the blood on her. Then he realized that most of the blood covering her face and breasts was his, not hers. A two-inch gash on her cheek from his fist, earlier, was her only wound, so far.

"You ready to fight a girl, yet?" she asked, daring a feral grin at him with that bloody face. "Or can I munch on you some more..."

The savage little slut was breathing hard and barely able to stand up after that last kick, and she was taunting him? Matthew couldn't believe it.

Snarling, he crouched down into a fighting stance, his arms crooked forward like crawfish claws – his commando knife waving in the little slut's face. She smiled at him and vanished beneath his arms again. He was ready for her this time, though, and brought both fists down into her back as her teeth scraped his ribs on the other side as she attempted to give him matching 'hickeys' on his ribcage.

Béla grunted and dropped to the floor, her breath knocked out of her. With a victorious shout, Matthew slashed down with his blade, nearly missing the slut's narrow torso as she rolled sideways in her attempt to get away from him. Instead of stabbing her in a kidney, the knife carved into and across Béla's midriff.

Despite the painful wound he gave her, she kept rolling until she reached the wall behind her, then used it to brace against as she pushed back onto her bare feet.

Matthew noticed with pleasure that she wasn't smiling, now. She still didn't look very afraid, but he would change that in a moment or so. From the odd look in her eyes, he believed for an instant that the slut had actually enjoyed being wounded. But that was impossible, of course.

That rapt, lustful look was most likely a misinterpretation on his part of the way a girl gazes at a man in her determination to find his weakness. That was, after all, how women fought men, wasn't it? Find his weakness and exploit it? He anticipated a wonderful time carving her up and listening to her scream.

The little stripper was hunched down, holding her hand against where his blade had carved three or four inches across the soft, sensitive flesh under her ribs. Blood dribbled through her fingers where she pressed tightly in her attempt to keep it from bleeding too much. She was breathing heavily, watching his every move warily.

They circled. Matthew was surprised that the girl wasn't staggering by now. Normally, internal bleeding from a body wound like that would weaken and disorient his victim. But within a minute, she was completely ignoring her wound. It even appeared to have stopped bleeding. It was obviously not as deep a wound as he'd thought.

After waiting almost two minutes for the girl to rush him again, he sighed and looked away for an instant, pretending boredom. In that second, Béla dove under his guard, viciously attacking him, grabbing his knife hand and pushing herself in close. She sank her teeth into his jaw, tearing flesh and muscle on his face.

Snarling, Matthew grabbed her hair and pulled her face off his, ignoring the tearing pain of his skin, still tightly gripped in her teeth, as it ripped away from the muscle and tissue underneath.

He had a good grip on her now and he twisted her around so that he was behind her, his arm wrapped around her head. His knife, coming in from her right side, sank deeply into her belly this time. The short, surprised grunt she made was so erotic that he could feel his body becoming aroused. This was truly going to be a good kill.

Holding her naked, writhing body tightly against him with one hand, Matthew twisted the knife around in her belly and cut deep up and beneath her ribs, trying to push the wicked blade right through her lithe body. She was so thin the sharp tip of the knife poked out through her back between two ribs and scratched his pectoral muscles as she twisted furiously back and forth in his arms. Her movements against him were so arousing that even his own knifepoint slicing a bloody streak across his shirt only excited him more.

"Yer dancin', now, Bitch!" Matthew gasped in his efforts to hold onto her as he twisted the knife back and forth.

Béla snarled her rage at him and coughed as blood began to fill her wounded lung, refusing to believe that this fight was over and she'd lost.

She went limp for a few seconds, and Matthew automatically loosed his grip on her, believing he'd wounded her beyond her ability to fight back. Then Béla twisted violently around in his arms to face him, her unexpected movement pulling the blood-slicked knife handle right out of his hand. Facing him now, still tightly held in his arms, she snarled again and tore into his neck with her teeth. Matthew savagely pushed her against the wall and smashed heavily against her, crushing the wind out of her lungs. She cried out in agony as he ripped the knife out of her and viciously jabbed it into her diaphragm and her soft belly several more times. Then he raised the knife over his head to dramatically plunge it into her chest, right in the heart.

As he began the fatal downward stroke, he realized that the girl was already unconscious; shock, the loss of blood and those last brutal wounds finally taking their toll on the nubile little stripper. She slid down the wall, marking where she'd been with a wide streak of dark red from several wounds where his knife had pierced completely through and out her back.

Gasping for air, Matthew dropped down with one knee on each side of her hips. He gingerly touched at the torn flesh on his jaw and his neck while he gazed down at her unconscious, bleeding body, admiration mixed with conquest gleaming in his eyes.

He'd never known a pretty girl who had fight left in her after he'd bruised her precious face or slashed her perfect body once or twice. Most girls were so vain that they would rather be dead and beautiful than alive and scarred. What they preferred didn't matter. When he was finished with them, they were not beautiful. But they were very dead.

Looking at her lying on the floor between his legs, Matthew realized that this dying girl had loved this fight, and she'd fought savagely, bravely, careless of her own incurred injuries. She had closed with him several times, careless of his blade just so she could viciously rake his face and body with her teeth and nails. This one had been a courageous fighter, but not particularly trained in any of the defensive arts. He realized that, if she had been more trained, this little slut could possibly have beaten him.

Matthew gently, almost reverently picked her up and laid her out on the sturdy, yard-sale dining table he's placed on the far side of the room. He ran his hands over her breasts and belly, smearing blood from several cuts and the slashes he'd given her while they fought. The feel of her blood-slicked curves beneath his hands was incredibly arousing; so arousing in fact that he didn't notice there were no longer any cuts beneath the blood on her taut, smooth flesh.

He put his hands between her legs and forced his fingers inside her. He was surprised to find that she was sopping wet. Evidently, fighting and physical pain seriously aroused this girl. No wonder she had fought so hard.

He unfastened his jeans and fondled his hard-on for a moment before pulling her unconscious form to the edge of the table and entering her. As Matthew shoved up inside the girl, she moaned and began to move. She coughed several times to clear her lungs, causing Matthew to grin at the sensations her pelvic muscles provided him with each convulsion of her body.

He was ready for her to begin her screaming, now, and raised his knife high above his head. Then he plunged it like a sacrificial blade, deep into her belly button. It was a stroke designed not to kill right away, but to cause excruciating agony as she bled her life-blood out into her guts.

Béla gasped as the sharp blade sank into her belly, slashing white-hot through her flesh and deep into her gut, waking her instantly. She grabbed her attacker's wrists helplessly as his arm moved up, then down, then up and down again, each stroke creating an new, agonizing sensation of hot lava in her soft belly. Each downward stroke rewarded Matthew with another violent convulsion against his cock buried inside her.

Finally, she lay quivering; gasping for air, her stomach too ripped up to fight any more. Her torn and slashed muscles would no longer hold her up.

Forcing herself to relax against the pain and agony that screamed through her body, Béla performed the mental exercise she'd learned centuries ago to allow the pain to flood through her body, fighting the natural impulse to push against the agonizing sensations flooding her nervous system. The pain immediately began to disperse more evenly throughout her body. In a moment, she had her nervous system reprogrammed so she could sensually 'ride' on the incredible pain and agony she was experiencing. As a result, her body began responding sexually to her antagonist's knife and her pussy, belly and breasts tingled as an intense orgasm began building up.

Béla cried out as he stabbed her again, this time with orgasmic pleasure rather than pain. Her body convulsed and she clamped down against his invading penis as orgasm after orgasm crashed through her.

Matthew could tell there was some subtle difference in the young stripper's cries, now, and was determined to create enough pain in her body so that her death cry would be one of eternal agony. Pulling the knife out of her belly, he slashed it across her left breast, carving it open. Béla was losing control now as blinding pain and pure, white-hot orgasmic sensation overwhelmed her entire body. Matthew slashed her other breast, carving it in half right through her nipple, destroying its perfect symmetry forever. As he began carving on her face, she lost her hold on the sensations she was experiencing and blacked out for a few seconds.

Matthew rammed into her again while drawing a decorative, wavy line from her left cheek down to her belly with his blade. His heart was pounding in his chest and it was hard to breathe. This girl was incredibly superior to the one he'd brought here last weekend. Not only was this little slut stripper still conscious, but she was soaking wet and leaking constantly between her legs. If he didn't know for certain how much pain he was causing her, he could almost believe she was actually getting off on the sexual destruction of her body.

Béla began to tremble violently in orgasm, unable to control her body at all, now. Matthew realized the girl was finally in her death throes as her insides clamped down against his invading cock almost painfully. As his own orgasm neared, a rush of explosive sensation raged through his pelvis, nearly overpowering him in its intensity. It was as though he could feel the carved flesh of the dying body beneath him as severed nerves of her skin and muscles rubbed against each other, creating an almost orgasmic sensation of destruction. He could feel each new cut as though he was carving on his own body instead of the nearly dead female beneath him.

He raised the knife blade over his head with both hands, needing to feel his knife pierce her again when he came. With a guttural scream, he stabbed the knife down through her abdomen, pinning her to the table as he spurted again and again into her dying body, filling her convulsing cunt with the most powerful orgasm he could remember.

He leaned, gasping, legs and body trembling, over her steaming, bloody corpse, his face inches from the freshly gaping holes still pumping blood around his blade, sucking in the smell of her fresh blood through his nose and mouth. His other hand slipped in the blood on the table as he tried to keep his balance.

Sticky red liquid spurted as he pulled his knife blade free. The smell of it was intoxicating. Her blood was everywhere, making the table and floor slippery. He watched as it pumped out of her body.

'She still alive!' he suddenly realized. 'Her heart still beats!'

Béla lay, senseless and still beneath him. Matthew's pelvis was surrounded and soaked with her hot, sticky flesh, his penis throbbing with his need for another release. He sat up, straddling her torso – his ass and balls slippery against her soft, hot, blood-slicked belly, the sensation making his need for another release even more intense.

He wiped his hands and knife against his bare chest as he sat straddling her thin, bloody, lacerated stomach. He thrust his knife deeply up and into her diaphragm, feeling her twitch once at the impact of his knife as it penetrated something vital inside her. His entire body was rigid and he was trembling violently. He didn't notice, as he gazed down at her gory, blood-covered body, that the wound he'd made under her rib cage earlier was already completely healed.

He guided his hard member into the hot, bleeding vagina he had just created in her diaphragm with his knife. Now he could feel her lungs moving, her heart pounding wildly against his hardness. He could even feel the sensation of his invading cock as it pressed against her lungs and up against her pounding heart as though it was happening to him. He began to thrust into her chest cavity, gruesomely rocking her dying body and head forward and back, his hands and knees slipping in her blood as it flowed freely from her wounds.

His second orgasm was even more intense than his first. As he pumped his semen into her chest, he stabbed his knife down into her heart, feeling her body convulse as her heart emptied its bloody contents into the freshly gaping wound with a final spurt, the sensation mirrored in his own chest. He felt another tremor beneath him, then she was still – her lungs no longer sucking air, her heart no longer pounding against his failing hardness.

Feeling enormously sated, and exhausted as well, he collapsed down on top of her, a hollow, weak laugh escaping his throat. Matthew's most recent acquisition lay unmoving beneath him, her taunts and screams finally silenced in death, her lungs still, with blood slowly oozing from her butchered corpse.

"You were really good, babe. Too bad I can't ask for a repeat performance," his raspy voice sounded back at him from the cold, stone basement walls, unsteady and hoarse from his exertions. He wasn't disappointed, though. There were still hours of pleasure ahead of him, cutting her up and fucking her various body parts as he prepared her for final disposal.

He looked down at her lying beneath him. "Girl, you're a real piece of work. I should take pictures. I could sell you for a lot of money."

After a moment, he slid off her cooling body, still considering this new potential for income. Raw pieces of meat and drying blood stuck to him as he moved. His dick and balls were soaked dark red. He could feel blood coagulating in the crack of his ass. It made his balls slide around between his legs. That he should be covered in her blood and gore felt right, somehow. It made him feel fulfilled and complete.

Matthew's feet slipped on the floor when he tried to stand and his hand squished down into her gory, blood-soaked abdomen as he caught his balance. Her blood seemed to sting his hand in revenge. Straightening up, he smeared his hand across his body and staggered unsteadily across the room. Her blood seemed to boil on his skin. Now that he had come, he noticed his dick was burning, too – almost in revenge for what he'd done to her.

'Must've gotten some stomach acid on me, ' he decided and he stumbled in to the bathroom to shower it off.

Behind him, Béla lay on the table, her heart, chest and stomach ripped open, her dead body cooling. Blood stopped oozing from her wounds and began to coagulate. On a cellular level, however, there was a great deal of activity. Cells that were still alive were growing and dividing, devouring damaged tissue and absorbing blood to repair the damage to her heart. The semen pumped into her pelvis and chest was also absorbed, the pure protein and life-giving enzymes becoming an added boost for growth and repair. In just a few minutes, her heart, healed with fresh muscle tissue, began beating once again. Her body temperature immediately began to rise.

Béla awoke suddenly, gasping for air. She felt incredible; a new birth, a fresh, raw body. She kept her eyes closed and breathed deeply, luxuriating in the sensation of her body renewing itself. Being murdered would be her favorite hobby if she could get it to happen more often. In the last hundred years, she'd only managed it a few times.

After a time, she opened her eyes. She was still on the table in the center of the room. As she looked down at herself, she could see she was naked, covered with blood and loose chunks of her own flesh. Half of her left breast was missing, her breast tissue regenerating more slowly than more vital parts of her body. She lay back on the table, surprised, but pleased at the completeness of her butchery. This much regeneration would keep her young for a long time.

'Wow! I missed a lot, ' she thought to herself, feeling somewhat disappointed.

She realized she would have to lie here for a while until her stomach muscles healed enough for her to even sit up. Her lower abdomen was still intact (he probably didn't want to stab himself in the dick), but the rest of the muscle tissue in her torso was shredded.

'Almost tenderized, ' she thought humorously.

While her body regenerated, her mind drifted back to the last time she was murdered, around fifty years ago...

A Nazi officer she met at a party in Chicago had invited her to spend 'Hanukkah' with him. He evidently thought she was Jewish from her complexion and the slight trace of her accent. When she accepted and arrived a week later, she'd been arrested and taken from the airport directly to his quarters at some military camp, threatened, whipped and raped, thrown to his guards to be repeatedly beaten and raped again, then thrown into a cell.

The next day, she, along with several young Jewish girls, was strapped to heavy metal tables, naked and shivering in the cold, winter air of the unheated room. Béla was first in line as her host officer came into the room and smiled at her.

"Welcome to your death, Judisch Bauersfrau," he grinned at her, almost bouncing on his heels in his excitement at having lured her here and captured her. "You have traveled halfway around the world to participate in an experiment of great importance to der Fuhrer. This experiment will demonstrate how well designed our new field grenades are, and how they can tear a body into pieces. Unfortunately for you, you will not survive, but your contribution will be filmed for posterity.

"Each of you," the tall, proud officer said, smiling maliciously at the other young Jewish girls, "will have the opportunity to demonstrate your ability to withstand the weapons of war which will be used to show how fragile the 'chosen people' are, in reality. This will also be a demonstration of your faith – how you face death. I am certain that der Fuhrer will enjoy watching the film we make of your contribution."

A heavy camera was moved into the room and began to whir as it slowly moved up and down the length of the room, carefully filming the captured women with their breasts bared and their pubic mounds exposed as the tables they were strapped to forced them upward.

Béla never found out what happened to the other crying, mewling girls, as she was the first to demonstrate her 'faith'. Tightly bound and unable to speak for the gag in her mouth, she felt, rather than saw, something large and cold being pressed against her vulva.

Despite the fact that she was frightened and uncertain of what would happen, she was also sexually excited. The soldier messing around between her legs made some obviously crude comment causing several other soldiers to laugh, which she didn't understand, not knowing any German.

The cold, hard object was slowly inserted about halfway up inside her. Then she heard a metallic snap and everyone quickly moved away. The cameraman backed away as far against the wall as he was able, still filming.

The explosive blew her belly open, showering everyone and everything in the room with her bloody guts, leaving her hipbones exposed with most of her belly blown completely away. Béla looked down at herself, stunned and disbelieving. A weak whimper of surrender escaped her lips as she watched her own half-gutted body cavity fill with blood as it flowed down from her chest. Then she fainted.

When she woke up, she found herself in a huge open ditch with hundreds of fresh and not so fresh dead bodies. Surprisingly, not many were bloating as she remembered bodies on ancient battlefields did – most of the torsos of these corpses were either completely missing, or riddled with enough bullet holes to prevent the accumulation of internal gasses.

It had taken three days for her hipbones and pelvis to grow back. She never ever again wanted to think about what she'd been forced to devour during those three days while she healed.

Afterward, she found her Nazi lover and, after retrieving her clothes and some much-needed vital fluids from his neck, she released him from his earthly suffering. After she escaped the country, she decided not to let any smooth-talking military types talk her into any more holidays in fun-filled, modernistic Germany.

A movement in the room brought her mind back to the present. She held her breath and watched through slitted eyes as a man, naked, walked across the filthy room. Her attacker had showered and was drying off with a large (pink?) towel. He threw it over a chair and, still naked, opened the door of the nearby refrigerator.

'Nice ass, ' she thought, gazing at his naked figure. 'He keeps himself fit. He should be really tasty.'

"I may as well retire. It ain't gonna get no better than you, darlin'," he said aloud to himself as he waved a bottle of beer in her direction before popping the lid. He tilted his head up and downed half the bottle, making crude noises in his throat as he swallowed.

"Damn bitch!" he exclaimed softly as he touched the raw, exposed muscle on his cheek. Then he smiled, savoring the moment at the club when he had dared to tell the hot little stripper how he would violate her sweet, tender body with his blade. Her reaction had been completely unexpected, but incredibly erotic. He wished he could butcher her all over again, but settled for another swallow of cold beer. There was still a lot he planned to do to her.

'Once you've had the best... ' he thought to himself, 'you might as well rest! Hey, Hey! That rhymes!' He took another big swallow of beer.

Behind him, Béla sat up and silently slid her mutilated body off the table. Gentle, dark eyes glowed from her scarred, knife-decorated face as she padded softly across the room toward him.

While setting the beer bottle on the sink, Matthew noticed a slight movement in the corner of his eye. He swirled around and found himself staring in horror at the bloody corpse of the young girl he'd just butchered, more terrified of her standing there than he was of actually dying.

'Why are they always so frightened by their victims?' Béla wondered curiously as she reached for him. 'Is he so afraid of women that he has to butcher them to get off?'

Matthew tried to scream, but couldn't draw a breath. He backed into the corner of the room, nearly toppling the refrigerator as the gory apparition moved forward and lifted its dead arms to embrace him. Snarling, he tried to push the unnatural thing away, horrified by the actuality of having to touch it.

'What's wrong, my love?' he heard in his mind. 'You didn't have any trouble touching me earlier... '

Matthew screamed and cried out, "Get away from me!"

'Hold me ... make love to me again ... Let me give you the pleasure you've given me ... My dearest love... '

"Noooooo!"

Gently wrapping her arms around his neck, Béla pulled herself up his body, smearing her half-congealed blood all over his freshly washed bare chest. She embraced him lovingly, then, bracing herself with her arms over his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his waist as well, her hands tightly grasping her arms behind his neck.

Filled with horror, violently slamming against the wall and falling over the lone chair, Matthew struggled to get free. Her body was so slippery with her own blood that he couldn't get enough of a grip to dislodge her.

'Mine ... forever... ' he heard the dead thing whisper lovingly into his head, terrifying him even more.

He felt her hot breath on his skin as she laid her head on his shoulder, never realizing that if she were truly dead, she wouldn't be breathing. Her hair was corpse-cold and sticky with congealed blood. As her teeth sank into his neck, he began to shake convulsively. There was an incredible pain in his chest that arched down into his left arm.

'I'm having a heart attack!' he realized, terrified all over again. 'I must be hallucinating. This can't be happening! It isn't possible! Zombies only happen in movies!' Desperately grabbing her wet, sticky hair with both hands, he pulled back on her head, trying to release his neck from her toothy grasp.

Tightening her arms around his neck, she bit down harder. In his terror, he heard her growling protest, "MMNNooooo ... My turn now..." It was impossible, he knew, but he could actually feel the pure erotic pleasure of his hot blood flowing down her throat.

'Holy Moses – She's a vampire!' Matthew suddenly realized, understanding divine retribution, now. 'God forgive me! I'm going to die!' His feet slipped in fresh urine and his legs went out from beneath him.

Béla's teeth sank deeper into his neck and a contented sigh escaped her lips as the fresh, hot pulse of new life spurted into her mouth. She was so blissfully deep into her feeding that she scarcely noticed the impact of their entwined bodies crashing to the floor.

Matthew's heart beat painfully loud in his head as his life-blood was sucked out of his body. His penis engorged itself in one final effort to survive, taking up its small amount of blood for a last procreative thrust.

Béla felt the insistent pressure between her legs and agreeably moved herself to accommodate him. She gently slid down on his growing member and rocked her pelvis back and forth, fucking him gently as she fed, her lips forming a tight seal on his neck as she continued swallowing the hot, life-giving fluid spurting into her mouth and down her throat.

His heart, finally depleted of blood, gave one final, chest-racking thump and shuddered to a halt. His engorged penis convulsed several times as Béla received his final gift into her ravaged body.

Béla gazed into Matthew's wide open, beautifully blue, dead eyes as she wiped excess blood off her face with the back of her hand. She sighed, content, but once again alone.

'Rest in peace, Angela, ' she thought, casting her thoughts into the darkness, 'This butcher won't hurt anyone ever again.'

Sated, Béla fell asleep on top of her late host as her body continued to heal from the cruel savagery that Matthew had inflicted on his latest and last victim – an immortal vampire girl.

Chapter 2 »