The Dread of Damned

A few days passed in a blur, most of my time spent with Elara. Cuddling with her seemed to calm the storm in me, her presence easing the madness ever so slightly. Each time I fed her, the experience grew more intense, more pleasurable—an otherworldly sensation, something almost divine. Every feeding stirred something deep within my soul, making it feel sacred, like I was tapping into a cosmic force.

On the other hand, the torment I unleashed upon my mother brought me some sense of relief, quelling the growing madness in the beginning. But now, it was proving insufficient. Sure, the pleasure of having my ember between her breasts or her lips around me was as satisfying as it should be, her submissiveness only amplifying the experience. Yet, she was still my mother. The violence I unleashed upon her was only a fraction of the fury burning inside me, a fury that grew by the day. The pleasure she provided was real, but it was not enough to satiate the violent urges roiling within me.

If I ever truly unleashed myself on her without restraint, she would break—of that, I had no doubt. She loved the pain, but not even she could endure the kind of suffering I craved to inflict. What I wanted wasn't pleasure but pure, unfiltered torment, the kind that would tear her apart. And if I started down that path, I wouldn't stop. I wouldn't care about what she felt, wouldn't care about her limits.

But I didn't want to do that to her. Not now, at least.

These thoughts weighed on me as I sat alone in my room, brooding. Tomorrow, I had to attend a meeting to decide the fate of my dear uncle. A knock on the door interrupted my dark musings, worsening my frustration. I knew I was growing more unstable. I needed to unleash the beast soon.

"Who is it?" I asked, my voice cold.

"It's Varena, the wife of the traitor," came my mother's voice from the other side.

"Come in," I commanded.

The door opened, and my mother entered, followed closely by the woman in question. I recognized her—I'd seen her around a few times. Even during the feeding ceremony, her figure had briefly caught my attention. She had dull white hair and eyes, her appearance far from captivating. Shorter than my mother and nowhere near as graceful.

But her body—that was something else. She was thick, full of jiggling flesh, her enormous breasts almost spilling out of her tight dress, her thighs equally generous. Her face was unremarkable, worn out, but her body was... ample.

"What is it?" I asked, my voice hard and unyielding, watching as she bowed low, her breasts nearly tumbling free from her dress, giving me a full view of her deep cleavage.

"She wants—" my mother began, but I cut her off.

"Let her speak for herself," I said, my gaze not leaving the trembling woman.

"Your Highness," Varena began, her voice shaking, "I know what my husband has done is unforgivable, but I beg you to take my daughter and me under your protection. Spare us from the fate we had no part in."

I leaned back, considering her words. "Neither was I aware of any crime me or my sister had committed, yet we were almost killed. Why should I show mercy?"

"Please," she pleaded, her voice cracking, "at least spare my daughter. She has just turned six by vampire standards this year."

"I am barely ten, and if not for my aptitude, I would have been her age," I replied, my voice dripping with amusement as I watched her tremble. Tears streamed down her face, and her body shook uncontrollably, her flesh jiggling as she knelt before me.

"Please, Your Highness, show us mercy," she sniffled. "Spare my daughter, and I will be at your mercy."

"Look at your place, your state," I commented, a dark chuckle escaping my lips. "You're already at my mercy."

Initially, I had no intention of getting involved with her. But seeing her so desperate, so pitiful, brought me a deep, twisted satisfaction. Her misery alone was gratifying enough.

"Please, I beg of you, I will do anything," she continued, desperation lacing her words. "I will be a dog if that's what you wish. Treat me like the sole of your foot, but spare my daughter, and I will be forever grateful."

Her words stirred something in me, and I knew what I had to do. I would keep her. I would unleash upon her the most violent, depraved desires that consumed me. She would become my plaything, a vessel for my unhinged cravings. Her soft, curvy body would jiggle beneath my hands, writhing in pain and misery. And I would revel in it.

"What if I confine you to a room where you shall never step out?" I asked, my voice dark and laden with sin. "I will provide you with enough nourishment to survive, but what I will do to you behind those closed doors will be worse than anything your feeble mind can imagine. In return, your daughter will live her life free of the guilt of her father's crimes."

"I will comply, happily," she replied, her voice steady despite the horror that awaited her.

My heart raced with excitement as twisted thoughts flooded my mind. The things I would do to her, the pain I would inflict—it would be beyond anything she could comprehend. Though, she was no human. She was Nocturnal—a weak one, yes—but still one of us.

"Leave," I commanded my mother, who promptly exited, closing the door behind her.

"Here," I said, tapping my foot. I watched as Varena crawled to my feet, her flesh trembling.

I cupped her plump cheek, a sinister grin curling my lips.

"There will be no more Varena for this world," I whispered as my nails grew longer, my fangs bared. My eyes gleamed with cruel delight as she quivered beneath my touch, her cheeks jiggling under my palm.