A cool mist had crept into the room, wafting through the open window and flowing like a heavy gas along the floor. Tendrils of gray fog wrapped around the four-poster bed and for a moment, the sleeping girl became restless, tossing in her sleep. She moaned once, then turned on her back.

She was as Kyra had described: Young, blonde and voluptuous. Her heavy, ample breasts spilled out of her blue silk nightgown, and her full red lips were parted in a smile. She was warm and so, so full of life...

The mist pulled out of the room now, as quickly as it had entered. The heavy drapes shuddered slightly; the window creaked once as if moved by a breeze, then became still again. And in the far, dark corner of the girl's room a man came to be.

He stood motionless as if in a trance while he took in his surroundings. He was a remote, majestic figure. Like a fine-spun dancer, his body was slender but not sparse. Powerful muscles rippled in his back, arms and thighs. The man was sensual, animal and completely nude.

He glided noiselessly across the bare wooden floor and came to rest at the foot of the bed. He studied her form -- the soft curves of her reposing body, the lines of her face, the hair splayed out on the pillow. His hard eyes traced the firm, supple thighs, the taut nipples strained against the thin fabric, the smooth hands. Two desires began to burn within him, one ancient, the other ageless.

He turned to the window and gazed out on the serene, moonlit lake. It brought back half-forgotten memories of his youth, so long ago, of Lake Hermanstadt, and the Scholomance. The ritual of the Becoming -- how long ago had it been? he wondered. He could not remember, could not even say with certainty that it had happened at all. So many memories, so many nights like this --

The girl moaned, and he whipped around quickly and silently to face her. Her breathing had become irregular -- panting as if trying to wake herself up -- and he moved to her side to lay his hand on her chest. The heat of her breasts aroused him. He caressed them like a lover, and presently the girl grew calm, her dreams chased away and replaced with deaden sleep. And something else: A longing. She was aware of his presence, in the depths of her slumber.

He slipped into her consciousness easily enough, his hands pulling the flimsy gown from her body. She inhaled sharply, her breasts rising, then sighed. As he watched, her hands went to her swollen nipples and caressed them.

In her mind's eye, she saw him as a magnificient warrior in glittering armor and burgundy robes. She cried out her need to him: Oh, to bask in your gaze, to die in your arms...

The girl's eyes opened and she opened her mouth as if to speak. There was no need of it; he heard her call out just as clearly as if she had sung. She placed one hand on her breast and held out the other to him. He looked down at his erect, throbbing member, then down at the girl. It was time.

He knelt beside her and put his lips against her soft, pulsing neck. His cold breath excited her, and she rubbed her thighs together. Then he bared his teeth, those terrible fangs, and sunk them into the soft, inviting flesh. She made a low moan and rolled her head to accomodate him. A thin line of blood trickled down her neck and fell in tiny droplets onto the satin sheet.

He drank hungrily as the liquid flowed into him. But there was something wrong...

DAMN! He tore away savagely and spat. "It cannot be," he said aloud. So few were found these days -- and yet here was such a one.

Her body tossed again, and in her mind she begged him to complete the task. He stood, nude in the darkness, and shook his head. Such a loss, he thought; would he find another so desirous of the fate he'd held out to her?

Still, he pondered, though she could not fulfill his prime need, he still had another, equally strong.

He moved down on top of her and smoothly entered her. She gasped, her eyes opened wide, and she wrapped her legs around his. Her mouth formed into an O, but as her eyes met his, she made no sound.

Her thoughts, however, cried out to him. Take me, my Lord!

His silky fingers wrapped around her throat as he answered, You are already mine.

He squeezed and felt the girl beneath him flail silently, her eyes begging for release. He thrust his massive shaft once, and she arched her back for him. Her hands went to his wrists, and pushed, not for less pressure but for more.

She bucked her body again, but he would not respond. Instead, he moved closer to her face and stared directly into those bulging eyes, full of terror and desire.

His hands pressed even harder. For two full minutes, the girl fought both against and for his powerful grasp. Then suddenly she jerked still. He felt a liquid warmth drip from between her legs, and the girl suddenly arched back, a surprised expression in her eyes, and slumped into the bed, her face still holding that ecstatic, surprised expression. Her heart beat twice, then stilled forever, as her final thoughts rang in his head.

He pumped again into her lifeless body and stared deep into eyes that saw nothing. Her firm legs relaxed and slid off his back, and as he pressed his chest against her still-erect nipples, he felt the warmth slipping away. Then another thrust, and another...

His own release was near; he thrust into her as he came. The girl's head lolled back, her throat bared to him. Her arm slid off the bed and hung limply above the floor, the fingers curled.

He dismounted and looked down in pity at the body sprawled out on the bed, now as cold as his own. Her eyes looked up at him as if to beg him to take her with him.

He stood back, and held the dead girl's gaze as the mist once again slid into the dark room.

Kyra, his student, loved the sport.

Their abode sat high on top of a desolate mountain, near a stone-strewn pass. He made his way through the fallen ramparts, down a hidden stone stairway leading to the aquaduct and into the main chamber.

Kyra looked up at him from the stone. "My lover returns," she purred.

He looked at her. She wore ornate filigreed gold breast cupules, each ending in a three inch long, needle-sharp point. Gold serpents circled her upper arms, and a heavy gold belt went around her lithe waist. A cermonial dagger was strapped to her left leg.

"Just in time," she told him. "Listen!"

There was a faint scream, coming from the abbatoir below.

"She's mine," Kyra said.

Together they went to the lower level, Kyra pirouetting in anticipation. "I found her in Humboldt," she told him. "She's an artist at the University. She saw me and fell in love. Romantic, wouldn't you say?"

Kyra swung open the heavy iron gate. He saw her immediately, a young girl chained to the far wall, her limbs outstretched. She emitted a yell, but when she saw them, quieted instantly.

Kyra danced over to her. "Tell my lover your name," she said.

The girl looked up at her. "Marissa."

Kyra went up to the girl and slowly untied her lace bodice. She pulled it off, then whipped around once with the dagger in her hand. Marissa gasped when saw the sharp blade. Kyra giggled, and in one fluid motion, cut away the rest of the girl's clothing. It fell to the floor in tatters.

Kyra moved closely to her; the points of her breast cups pressed into Marissa's hot flesh.

"Tell me what you desire, dear Marissa."

The girl looked into her eyes. "I need...you," she breathed.

Kyra covered the girl's mouth with her own. As they kissed, Kyra's tongue slid and probed like a snake, fighting with Marissa's as the other woman responded in kind. Kyra's hands encircled Marissa's waist, and she pulled herself closer.

The spikes plunged into Marissa's breasts, and she screamed, but Kyra still held the kiss. Marissa's fingers flailed as she tried to grab hold of the chains, her legs kicked uselessly, and her eyes bored into Kyra's.

Blood began to trickle from her chest and lips. Kyra held the kiss and squeezed harder into Marissa.

The dying woman made one last cry as her life flowed out of her. Kyra held her deadly embrace until the body made a final twitch and was still.

Kyra gently pried herself away. Her breast cups were smeared with blood. She dabbed her finger in it, brought it to her lips, and tasted.

She smiled and turned to him. "How was your hunt?"

He eyed the body on the wall hungrily. "She was...unclean."

Kyra motioned to the slumped body of Marissa. "Then I give you my prey."

He went to the dead girl and lapped the blood from her chin, then knelt and suckled her breasts. The fire had died within her, but his own was rekindled.

Kyra moved beside him. She deftly unchained the girl and lowered her to the ground. Looking up at him, she smiled knowingly. "Your other needs awaken."

He picked the body up lovingly and carried her cradled in his arms to his chamber. He placed her down gently on the cold bed and smoothed her long black hair. Her eyes stared upward and her blue lips formed a silent scream. The man kissed her neck, the dip of her throat, her breasts. His hands ran down her waist, her thighs, her soft round buttocks. Her elegance was even greater in death, and as he felt the soft, cool flesh he began to plot the quenching of his thirst.

He slid between her legs and entered her. He covered her mouth with his, tasting the blood, and drew her hands above her head. As a lover would, he thrust himself into her and thought, you will join us yet, Marissa.

His terrible strong body arched over her, and the thrusts became mightier. Without bidding, the words came out of him in a low rushing outpour:

"Be ye accursed, and eternally reproved; and be ye tormented with perpetual pain, so that ye may find no repose by night nor by day, nor for a single moment of time, if ye obey not immediately the command of Him Who maketh the Universe to tremble..."

Her lifeless eyes stared up at him, her mouth hanging slack.

"...by these Names, and in virtue of these Names, the which being named and invoked all creatures obey and tremble with fear and terror, thses Names which can turn aside lightning and thunder; and which will utterly make you to perish, destroy, and banish you -- "

With a fevered groan he suddenly jerked inside her, the piston- driving strength of his body possessing hers.

"These names then are Aleph, Beth, Gimel, Daleth, He, Vau, Zayin, Cheth, Teth, Yod, Kaph, Lamed, Mem, Nun, Samekh, Ayin, Pe, Tzaddi, Qoph, Resh, Shin, Tau."

Then the moment of ecstasy exploded all around him. He thrust once more, his shaft buried deep inside her in a dizzying, uncontrollable burst of rapture.

He was utterly consumed, and yet the words still came:

"...that ye may burn therein eternally for ever..."

It was time for the Third Pentacle of the Moon -- and after that, the Becoming.

Marissa's body lay in the Cradle of Ages, deep beneath the decaying castle. Her soft hands crossed her breasts; her form was covered by a gossamer silk gown. Dozens of candles flickered around her. Her eyes were open and her feral mouth was still drawn back in the deathmask.

It was close to midnight and because of this, Kyra had chosen the Fifth Pentacle of Saturn. Her eyes were red and catlike in the darkness, and her hunger great, for since the beginning of the ceremony she had done no hunting. She read from the dusty book in a low, quick voice. Her garment was a crimson-cloaked gown.

The man listened approvingly. Though they had been together for hundreds of years, soon she would pass through to eternity and another would take her place. He looked at Kyra and felt no sorrow; it had been the same with Voranna, his previous consort and Kyra's first...victim. That was as it should be, and though he refused to think it, he knew that another would eventually take Marissa's place at his side. But that was far in the future.

Kyra finished reading the invocation and closed the book. She was panting, feeling the burning desire to once again taste blood, to steal life. He ignored her; Kyra would hunt no more.

He rose and went to Marissa's limp body. Closing her eyes, he kissed her lips and raised the chalice above his head. He then intoned the final words.

"Some are created from water.

"Others from Wind, unto which they are like.

"Some from Earth.

"Some from Clouds.

"Others from Solar Vapors.

"Others from the keenness and strength of Fire; and when they are invoked or summoned, they come always with great noise, and with the terrible nature of fire."

He overturned the chalice. As the water hit her, Marissa opened her eyes wide and shrieked. Her hands clawed in the air, and her legs kicked wildly. The restraints held her within the Cradle, but still it was so awful that Kyra -- even Kyra, who had seen so much! -- flinched.

He invoked the Great Ones now: Qadosch, Tzabaoth, Asophiel, Athanatos. Athanatos, Eater of Life, whose visage turned even Cardiel to stone. Tzabaoth, Hunter of Life, of whom even Gabriel was terrified. Qadosch, who dared taunt the Master of Evil himself -- Qadosch, Destroyer of Worlds, who protected them in their Long Sleep.

Marissa's screams stopped. She looked up at him and when she smiled, he could see the fangs. Good, he thought. He would have another mate.

He ordered Kyra out, to prepare for the next part in the ancient ceremony. She moved painfully, aching for sustenance, and closed the huge wooden door to the chamber.

Twenty hours later he emerged and walked down the giant and empty halls to Kyra's bed. He found her as he had ordered: She wore her gold filigree and nothing else, kneeling on a small dais before an icon of Existon, the Harbinger of Death.

His robe fell to the cold stone floor and he reclined in her bed. He spoke to her. "Rise, Kyra, and join me."

She stood, noticed the door to her chamber still open. "Would my Lord have me close it?"

He waved his hand. "No. Come to me."

She smiled and climbed up onto him. She mounted him easily, moaning with pleasure as his erect cock slid deep inside her. She offered him her taut, swollen nipples. He rolled them between his fingers, then cupped her breasts in his hands and lifted them up.

Kyra drew her legs up and began to ride him like a stallion, her first hunger lost in the second, and after a brief thrashing period had begun to make a smooth, steady pumping motion with her hips and pelvis. Her sharp fingernails raked his smooth chest.

Kyra never noticed the footsteps.

She was caught in her own ecstasy. The man, however, glimpsed Marissa creeping into the room, and spoke to Kyra. "Look in my eyes," he commanded.

Kyra smiled again and looked down at him. Their eyes met and locked. She licked her lips with her tongue and purred. "Finish me, my Lord! Make me come!"

Marissa moved up behind her and with a swift movement brought the garrote up over Kyra's neck. Marissa quickly tightened the garrotte and pulled. Kyra screamed when she realized what was happening and reached to the dagger strapped on her leg, but the man's powerful hand grabbed her arms and pinned them. With his other hand, he withdrew the dagger.

"Goodbye, Kyra," he said. Kyra looked at him with sadness and finality in her eyes, then bucked once more.

The dagger had been prepared for this in the ceremony. He plunged it between her breasts. It went in to the hilt. Kyra jerked as the blade entered her, and a crimson ribbon flowed from her lips. She bucked several times as the knife did its work, and her visage turned from sorrow to anger to hatred to something inhuman.

Marissa pulled harder on the garrotte. Kyra's body arched backwards, and a final, soulful scream passed between her lips. She crumpled between her lord's legs; it was finished.

Marissa pulled her off of him and onto the floor, where she tumbled and sprawled. "Did I please you, my Lord?" she asked.

He rose from the bed and took the garrotte from her hands. "Yes, child," he told her. "Now return to your chamber and wait for me."

When she had left, he carried Kyra's body up the long stairway and out to the hill behind the castle. He set her on the cold ground and pushed on the dagger. It would be dawn soon; when the sun's rays found her, she would be no more.

He returned below ground, barring each entrance behind him with heavy metal locks. He finally appeared in the main chamber where Marissa waited for him.

"What comes next?" she asked him.

"First, your instruction," he replied. "There are many things you will need to know for your new life. Afterwards, the Long Sleep, and when we awaken, we will feast."

She smiled at the prospect, her fangs strong and gleaming.

Two years later the instruction was finished, and they went back together to the Cradle of Ages.

The End