A Halloween TF Story by C91Industries

C91Industries/Works/VAMPIRE LATCH AND BUN

“Damn it!” The pianist shouted as his foot dipped inches into a frozen mud puddle. He didn’t bother to stop and check as his pace remained brisk and hasty. ‘It can’t be helped’, he thought to himself as clouds of warmth huffed from his nose and mouth, quickly dissipating into the frozen night. His lungs developed a distinct cramp, the kind he remembered getting in school when he played in weather that was almost this bad. It was not unlike the cramping that happened here, and now his foot, coated in settled rainwater, was quick to freeze his foot as the squishes of his left sock confirmed the damage done.

‘It can’t be helped…’ He repeated in his head. The concert was five more blocks and it was billed to start in twenty-five minutes. Nevermind the fact he lost his ride after it broke down on the side on the road, succumbing to a flat tire as he was left to walk in an exceedingly worsening blizzard. Nevermind that it was the biggest concert of his entire career with completely sold out seats and several attending diplomats, leaders and presidents. He didn’t like using excuses - he just should’ve been there by now, circumstances be damned. Yet still, the terrible situation forced his hand. It wasn’t actually an excuse. It was just a bad night.

Transylvania, for all its gloom and garishness, always treated him nice. The October weather, cold as it was, endowed its towering, gothic structures with a glistening quality, carriages and store windows sparkling with frost in a kind of porcelain way. Everyone he passed was clearly prepared for the night much better than himself, clouds of heat puffing from their bundled up faces and their ten-pound coats and robes. He noted one or two people passing who hugged themselves when they saw him walking by. He shook his head. The mere sight of himself in nothing but a suit sent passerbys into a shiver.

He passed another block. The streets felt uncharacteristically empty. Few vehicles drove by and he was left to himself, ruminating over what his ultimate punishment would be. He probably wouldn’t get to play in Transylvania again… maybe for a few years or so, at best. Considering his unflattering lateness, maybe his reputation would plummet and he’d never get numbers like this, ever again. Maybe the entire country of Romania would simply gawk at him on the streets, known for being the musician that bailed on the biggest concert of the year. Maybe he’d have to “explore new career opportunities” as the euphemism was once put. Maybe… maybe…

The musician blinked. His legs, one trying to fight back the intolerable chills of the mud puddle, stopped dead. His splintered breathing was audible only to himself. The city was literally too quiet. He turned around - nobody. He turned back in front - nothing. Spinning around only proved to him how desolate the winter city became. ‘What was that…?’ The rabbit wasn’t confident enough to ask himself out loud. ‘The cold is getting to me…’ The grip around his music case threatened to loosen as his fingers became refrigerated nuggets. The muscles in his hands and arms lost their tenacity - he could no longer tell if he was using his hand to grab the briefcase or not. It just happened to be hanging off of his meathooks. It hung on by willpower alone. ‘It can’t be… helped…’

He walked down a narrower alley, bisected with cottages, lesser homes and sideroad businesses. He walked past a butcher shop that closed its shutters as he passed, a wave of warmth gracing his limbs. He shook from the brief and satisfying blast before it went right back to the unfeeling cold. It was the last semblance of life he saw that night before everything went silent. Nobody walked by him, walked near him, appeared in front of him, behind him, nowhere, anywhere. The rabbit questioned if the butcher shop simply closed the shutter on itself without any help. The city was always infamous for… a number of reasons, but he never knew of it to be empty. A new instinct kicked in, one stronger than the need to reach his appointment on time, the one assigned in his brain that kept him from walking out in front of vehicles. His body slowed down against his own will, crouching over and hugging himself, his snout seemingly threateninging to fall off as his face lost its elasticity. His fur stuck up, failing to keep him warm as the snow rose up to his ankles, surrounding him at every turn and look. The warmth in his breath felt like the only thing alive in the dark.

‘I’m going to freeze to death.’

He was the only one around. No place was open on this narrow street, and he was still blocks away from the office. One of his eyes drooped.

He looked up onto a rooftop. It was brief enough for his eyes to catch, but too short to process what it was outside of a blurred shadow that quickly vanished. “H- hhh.. Hhaa… uhh…” Words failed to form from his lips. His forearms vibrated and shook, tucked underneath his arms. His walking dragged to an ineffective crawl, one that would decidedly not carry him to his concert in time. “Gunna… I’m ...euh.. eh...”

The rabbit’s eyes shot open. His hands - both hands - pulled out from his pits, hovering in front of him. “Mm- muh… my…” The words music case echoed in his head before he felt like finishing the sentence. He thought, ‘My God, did I drop it!? I don’t… remember… when it happened...’

There was no warning as the rabbit’s legs simply collapsed. His body dropped to the snowy concrete and he lied on the side of the road. He could no longer feel his paws, reaching out in front of his face. His fingers trailed along his nose and lips, losing all of their sensitivity. His mouth chattered and his eyes watered. The doomed musician’s legs tucked up into his stomach and he hugged his knees, feeling his spine struggle to bend. ‘My case… I can’t... find it…’ Even the rabbit’s thoughts progressively failed to respond properly to his situation. Absolutely no one else was in sight. It was a death cage.

‘I’m going to die here…’ The musician closed his eyes. ‘Why so soon? Why tonight, of all nights?’

A pair of black heels appeared before his sight, waltzing in front of his failing vision. The person crouched down, running her hand softly over his furry face. Reaching closer, she grabbed around his arms and back, lifting him.

The rabbit felt the world lower as his body levitated off the ground, courtesy of the black arms pulling him out of his snowy grave. He saw the formations of a mare, but it was too strange a sight to process. Her darkness reflected in the night sky like a mirror, a brilliant glossiness that conformed to her every feature. He felt himself lifted up, graced by the goodwill of another person’s help, yet this somehow didn’t make him feel safer. His body was numb and null, and his perception was delirious. The person in front of him, he concluded, was the grim reaper, dressed all in black with glowing red eyes. ‘I… I must’ve died earlier’ He confirmed to himself with no hesitation. ‘It’s coming to take me…’ He wasn’t sure if he was thinking to himself or out loud.

She hugged him closer, a sultry voice pouring from her lips. “Don’t be afraid… I’ll take you somewhere warm…”

It was hard to remember what happened that night. He felt himself fly up into the air, held by the grim reaper, herself, as he watched Transylvania pass beneath his feet. She covered her darkness-bound arms and legs around the dying pianist as much as possible, keeping her head close to his to protect against the flying winds. Her embrace was so loving, and yet strangely distant.

Again, for the rabbit, it was hard to remember anything at all. Their route brought both of them… somewhere. He wasn’t actually sure what part of Transylvania they were in now - assuming it was still Transylvania. As he lied near the auspiciously present fireplace, the rabbit suddenly remembered what it was like to have functional limbs and a face. Without understanding where he was or why, the rabbit acted upon instinct as he scooted closer, feeling the flames warm his blood. The feeling of the reaper hugging around him never ceased, continuing to grace him even as he laid on the chaise longue scooted closely to the fire, her lithe frame protecting the back end of his body while the flames comforted him from the front.

“Careful…” A soft voice hovered very closely next to his ear. “You don’t want to get too close.”

His voice quivered slightly, no longer cold but still dealing with shock. The musician burst into a sneezing fit, then promptly started shaking. He shifted in and out of slumber, still fighting the night’s cold delirium. “Do I... get to see my daughter one last time?”

The mare was appropriately confused by this question. “Your daughter?”

“Can I finish my tour in Europe?”

She stroked his head. “Shh… Stop worrying… Just rest…” She pecked his cheek, her pale face flushing red. Just the thought of his veins… being so close to piercing his flesh and sucking them dry… it was painful to think about. Knowing how to keep herself from losing control was an important ability, one she had to learn from trial and error - without that skill, it would be impossible to interact with anyone or anybody without becoming a total animal. Her timing had to be right.

It was another thirty minutes or so. The rabbit, finally regaining most of his senses, rose up from the chaise longue, the creature now gone. He rubbed his head - the playground stitch in his lungs was gone, but now he had a residual migraine in its place. The rabbit went into a torrential fit of sneezing, followed by some harsh coughing. A soft voice emerged from behind.

“Poor dear. It’s okay - one of my servants is bringing hot tea.”

“Wha-?” Raising one of his floppy ears, the musician turned over and looked behind the couch, witnessing none other than the grim reaper, herself. She was a beige pony with auburn hair wearing some kind of full-body suit. It was well oiled and dark as the night sky. “You…”

The rabbit was caught off guard as he heard heel clacking from behind. He turned around and witnessed a vixen resting a platter as she poured a tea cup full, then sat the teapot back down.

The mare said, “thank you for your services, Miss Harrison. That will be all.”

It was brief, but as she bowed, the rabbit got a good enough look. Like the mare, she was in some kind of black full body suit, except it looked more like it’d been carefully painted onto her body. Her head was deathly white and her hair was jet black. Maybe it was just him or it could’ve been the dark lighting in the study room, but the rabbit couldn’t spot a mouth on her face. She was around long enough before turning away and leaving.

The mare said, “I’ve seen you play live before. I enjoy your music.”

“Huh? I- oh…” He turned back, looking at the mare. With a cup in hand, he hugged his chest and pulled his legs inward. “...Th-thank you,” he said, rolling into a torrent of shivers.

“I watched you perform in Germany. I was up on the ceiling, but I don’t think you saw me.”

“The… ceiling?” He stared at the mare’s bat wings, lightly flapping behind her. They were covered in the same black material as the rest of her body, a skin-tight goo of sorts.

She said, “you know, you almost died tonight.”

“I did?”

“Yes. I’m very sure you were going to die right there on the road.”

The musician doubted this would be of interest to the creature of death, but he continued. “I was on my way to a concert. My carriage broke down. I… I thought I could… get there on foot… I’m so…” He groaned, feeling the headache intensify with the coming revelation of his horrible life-ending decision. Suddenly, losing his music career no longer seemed so bad. “I apologize you had to… drag me here...” It occurred to the rabbit that she was likely watching him go to the concert, that being the whole impetus of his life being saved in the first place. “Regardless of the implications, I would be dead right now if you hadn’t found me.”

She crawled back onto the chaise longue with the rabbit, leaning into him affectionately. She enjoyed her hands running over his fur, being so close to all the blood coursing through his veins. “You have your life. That’s what matters.”

He looked around. It was a large study with a small fireplace - likely a mansion or a castle of some kind. He looked back to the reaper again, her body still confined inside of the black shiny material. It was adorned with red stripes around the shoulders and thighs, and a corset was subtle yet noticeable. He saw her wings, covered in the same stuff. He noticed a strange, gleaming look in her glowing red eyes. They were incredibly intense and he knew she was trying to subdue it. “Uh… are you okay?”

She smiled. “I appreciate your concern.” The vampire enjoyed running her hands through the musician’s long hair, then trailing back down to his pink bunny nose. “I used to be amongst the living, just like yourself. I was an adventurer, often out on expeditions of increasing danger, armed only with a small dagger and a sword. I did this for years, and of course, I got cocky,” she frowned. “I always thought of myself as being invincible…” She sighed, wistfully lost in her memories. “But then, of course, I was proven wrong. I never wished to be this way, but who does? Cursing people the way I’ve been cursed… It doesn’t feel good… but the craving for blood...” She closed her eyes. “Everything you feel about your curse… it no longer matters. It makes you a monster. It makes you crave the darkness. It makes you enjoy it.”

The musician pressed his back against the couch, his muscles tensing. “That’s… unfortunate. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

“I have… tried different things to cure myself. Many, many things.” She hugged around his waist, her mouth hanging over his shoulders. “Everything from transformations to curses to potions. I even attempted suicide, but of course that didn’t solve anything. Ultimately, I ended up landing on a specific spell. A very odd one. The taste never went away… but other things did. Strange things. When I feed, I don’t create more of myself.”

“O-oh, that’s great. That’s lovely.” He backed away further from the vampire.

“But… something else happens, instead.”

The rabbit had no response other than more silent fear. He knew there was no outrunning a vampire - that was out of the question, and she would likely overpower any attempts at fighting back. Still, it was vastly better than groveling at her feet and praying for mercy like a fool. Whatever fighting he’d put up would only be so effective, unfortunately. Dying in the snow now felt like the better outcome.

Pushing away her face, the rabbit raised a stubby finger. “You listen to me now: I am not some play thing or slave for you. I have a life to live - it’s a musician’s life and one I’ve been dedicated to since birth. I have a child to raise and a world to travel to play my music for. This is not something you’re allowed to take from me or anyone else! And besides… I could never live with myself in such a state. I’d rather die.”

She giggled. “You think I’m turning you into a vampire? I guess you didn’t listen: I can’t do that, anymore.” She leaned back into him again. “I love those accents you Americans have. They’re cute, especially when you’re angry.”

“Yes… I grew up in New York.”

“Just a shame… I will hate taking that from you.”

He growled. “Demon!” The conversation took a full one-eighty as soon as he threw a punch, landing straight into her nose. He expected nothing to happen, considering her immortality, but then he watched her fly backwards into the couch, exactly how punching a defenseless woman was supposed to look. He cringed in horror, covering his mouth. ‘I didn’t meant to hit her,’ he thought. ‘That was way too hard of a punch. Now I feel terrible’. It was the first time that night he considered the more realistic probability that this poor woman was suffering from a mental illness, as opposed to being an actual vampire. She was also responsible for saving his life after stupidly running out into a blizzard and dooming his own fate. That, and the sight of her vampire getup while freezing to death probably lended to the hallucination of flying over Transylvania. Again, more realistically, she likely called a cab and drove him here. The wings were likely fake, made possible by some construction. He remembered seeing some people wear those red eye contacts before in vampire costumes. It still didn’t explain the castle, but that was beside the point. Punching the poor woman so hard would remain a life regret, but it couldn’t be helped - being bitten by an insane person was the less preferred option, and he was only defending himself. Still, despite her insanity, he owed her his life and would still think of something nice to do, regardless of his self-defense.

Unfortunately for the rabbit, all the reason and logic he tried applying to the situation was axed the moment her wings shot out, bringing the cursed pony into the air above him as they flapped away. She laughed maniacally, her red eyes glowing even more as she brandished her claws, allowing her monster side to finally surface. “I will have your blood, rabbit!”

The rabbit backed off the couch, flipping it over as he looked around the room for a weapon of some kind. His best bet was the fire poker sitting next to the fire place, eying it as he dashed over to grab its handle. With a dark swoop, the rabbit found himself tackled as he slid across the marble floor, poker still in hand. He tried smacking and stabbing her in the back, managing to prick her suit a little, but it wasn’t enough. It was too little, too late.

Pinned against the floor, the rabbit’s eyes rolled back as her fangs sunk completely into his neck, blood briefly squirting before she caught it in her mouth. She mirthfully sucked upon the puncture wound, greedily feeding upon the rabbit’s blood as her eyes shut, a slave to the indescribable bliss. Her face flushed red once again, nearly crying from excitement and pleasure. The rabbit was cute, honestly, and she did love his music, which made this all the more terrible to her. She didn’t like harming him, but push came to shove, and when the monster inside is awoken, there is little she can do. At the very least, he wasn’t going to die, and her curse doesn’t get to pass on, either. At least… not the one she had.

The vampire drank and sucked, gorging on the metallic nectar siphoning into her mouth and down her neck, filling her stomach. The pianist lied in a state of shock, unable to move nor fight back. His hands slowly grappled around her waist until he was hugging her, feeling the smooth latex on his hands and arms as she rubbed on his body. He expected the experience to be horrifying, and yet he wanted more. He hugged her closer, and he felt the vampire hugging around his head and waist, as well. She ultimately pulled out, a small squirt of blood punctuating the end of her lust as she licked her lips, feeling satisfied with the rabbit’s fluids in her system, then licked the wound to clean off the blood. She pulled back in again, except this time she went for the mouth. Both the rabbit and the pony lost each other to a mutual bliss, losing track of time.

Minutes passed. The rabbit slowly came to his senses, grasping at the bite mark. “No…” As his fingers ran over where he expected puncture wounds, he instead only felt his fur except it was… smoother.

“My, my, it’s starting fast, isn’t it?”

“What!?” He bounced up, grabbing at his neck. Not knowing what else to do, he dashed out of the study, running into a hallway. The whole castle was a maze of doors and halls, an impossible gordian knot to navigate. His breathing shorted out as he felt dizzy, a coolness expanding out from the bite mark as he rolled back his sleeve, watching it corrupt his arm. Amid his white fur, he could discern that the corruption was more ashen colored and somehow shinier, like it’d been doused in oil. True to the mare’s words, this was not vampirism. His running and panicking only took him so far as he was still weak from nearly dying in the blizzard, and this was on top of having his blood sucked and enduring a strange transformation. He promptly collapsed to the floor, the vampire’s shadow reappearing just above.

“Poor thing,” she leaned down. “I promise it will be over soon.”

“What… did you do to me?” He felt the corruption reaching down his chest and up to his face.

“I would choose my final words carefully, dear. You won’t be speaking for a long time.”

The musician’s shortness of breath worsened. The ashen color reached up to his head, watching as his hair gradually turned black and inky. His body shook and he rolled on the floor. “Please… don’t do this to me…”

“Soon, you’ll be mine.”

The rabbit noticed patches of his suit began to grow dark and shiny, shrinking tighter and becoming smaller. “I’ll kill you-m-mmumnn-” His lips suddenly started sticking together and going numb, and his jaw refused to cooperate as it hardly opened. His fingers dug into his mouth, feeling sinews form at the edges.

“Mnmm!! Hel-hmmmm!!” He was left to squirm away from his perpetrator, losing his ability to cry out for help as he watched his dress clothes turn black and conform to his body. Grabbing at his sleeves, they shrunk to his skin so tightly that they formed perfectly to his arms, no longer resembling his clothes as they looked more like they’d been painted on. He could not detach the black stuff from his skin, no way to pick or pry or discern from his ashen fur beneath. The suit tightened over his chest next, outlining his pectorals, waist, shoulders and back, then it ultimately tightened against his crotch, thighs and down to his shins. He tried saving his shoes in time, but just like the rest of his suit, they succumbed to the corruption, turning into inky blackness. His shoes became elastic as they stretched from the pulling, refusing to detach from his large feet until they slipped out of his hands, a loud smack as they whipped back into place. He looked back up to the vampire, his jaw struggling to keep open as his lips were close to completely sealing shut.

“Mmn… nn…” His moaning and screaming turned to pathetic whimpers. The musician’s nostrils were quick to seal off, leaving him with no way left to breath. He grabbed his neck, panicking at first. He closed his eyes. ‘My mouth… I’m going to suffocate to death…’ His lungs failed to even bother fighting against the changes. But rather than suffocate, the rabbit only felt a lack of needing oxygen. He glanced at his hands, again: the white gloves he planned to wear for the night somehow merged with the now skin-tight suit, retaining their whiteness to an extent to establish the look of gloves.

The rabbit’s entire suit had turned into a goo-like ink substance, attaching to the top layer of his skin as it refused to let go. Sitting up, he ran his hands across his arms and legs, pinching at the material but always failing to pull it off. The new ‘suit’ mimicked his old one but in a skintight manner, almost in the same way as the mare’s suit, except her’s was recognizably still clothing. This was more like some kind of weird sealant that was forcibly applied to every inch of his body except his head. The look hid absolutely nothing about his body underneath - it was barely clothing. The rabbit noted his legs and his butt were heavily accentuated, and his crotch hid beneath a formed ‘container’. The feeling of being so naked, covered head to toe in this shiny, smooth blackness was an embarrassment. There was no possible way he could go out in public now or continue any normal function of living until he could figure out how to undo this. The same went for his head - running his hands over his face, the pianist felt a seamless layer of skin where his mouth and nose used to be, rendering it sealed shut.

“...!?” His hands hung out in front of him, still sitting on the floor.

The mare waltzed around him, gloating. “As you can see, you didn’t turn into a vampire. No, no, it’s something much more preferable.”

Shooting up to his feet, the rabbit stood over the mare, who he just now noticed was significantly shorter than himself. Grabbing around her neck, he pressed the demonic creature against the wall, his piercing red eyes shooting into her’s.

“Stop.”

With a simple command, the mare’s will was done. The rabbit sensed an instinctual fear, the same kind he felt when standing near a cliff or putting his hand close to a fire. His mind struggled to rationalize the feeling, his hands continuing and failing to grasp by intellectual commands, alone, and yet his body, his entire nervous system, did not comply. His shiny black arms, despite listening to his mental commands, lacked the bodily connect needed to truly commit. They slowly lost their will and his hands dropped to his sides. The mouthless rabbit even offered the courtesy of backing up a few steps to give the mare some space. She stood in front of him defiantly.

“What was that you said earlier?” She prodded, smugly staring at her new rabbit. “I am not your slave? Let us test this out: on your knees.”

The last thing the rabbit wanted to do was take any commands from this monster, and yet he felt the compulsion. While the earlier command was fear-based, this felt more like he chose it, himself. The power of will compelled his need to listen, and it mattered very little what he actually thought. Even his thinking threatened to line up with it. ‘Don’t listen to her!’ He tried to reassure himself. ‘I can’t… I’m not…’ The rabbit ceased his resistance and succumbed to the vampire’s command, reaching down to the floor as he rest comfortably on his knees.

She stepped in front of him, her shapely legs standing defiantly and dominantly as her hands rested upon her narrow hips. His head was level with her crotch. “First, let us set aside the first and most important rule: I am your master. From now on, you will obey my will. Do you understand?”

The rabbit silently nodded.

“Now then…” She patted his head. “The curse I’ve laid upon you is one that’s rare, but worth having around. You’ve been transformed into a lovely little creature known as a lyminal. Your body gleams shiny and black due to a substance known as black mesh, which permeates throughout your body. It’s your flesh and blood now.” She circled around him, standing behind his kneeled body as she massaged his smooth shoulders. “It took me some time, but I do love the look of these things. So very sleek and shiny… and quiet, too. But perhaps my favorite part about lyminals is that they’re obedient. As my spawn, you act out my will. You will be my servant, my toy, my everything. You cannot resist me… it’s impossible.” She leaned down, rubbing her hands across his chest. “And much like vampirism, this is a permanent change. You cannot undo or remove this. Just like me, you have been endowed with immortality.”

The rabbit blocked out most of what she said with self-assurances. ‘She knows nothing. I can find a way to fix this… somehow. I cannot be the only person who is suffering from this.’ His black mesh-covered paws clenched, refusing to listen to her.

“Stand back up.”

Reflexively, the lyminal stood up, remembering to keep his posture straight for his master.

“And one more thing: obviously, you can’t eat. Like me, you feed on alternative sources. Fortunately, you only have to touch someone and absorb energy out of their system, or mana if you must be more specific. The only issue is they, too, will become lyminals once you do it. Make sure you choose wisely.”

A familiar clacking returned, approaching behind him. The vixen stood in clear view, her red eyes fixated on the pair.

The mare said, “Miss Harrison was much like you starting out, only she was a bit more troublesome. She was one of those ‘vampire hunters’ if that’s the correct phrasing, but yes, I don’t believe you’re deserving of as great a punishment as what she received. She is one of my many lyminal servants tending to the place. You are certainly free to leave this castle… But I think you’ll prefer our company more than the outside world. Also, you are commanded not to tell anyone about me or this place, nor will you attempt trying to undo your condition.”

The rabbit, lost in a haze of nightmares, backed away from the evil mare. Turning around, he grabbed the vixen by her shoulders and shook her. Miss Harrison’s eyes widened, certainly causing a bit of life to appear inside of her normally docile expression.

“...!!!” Wake up! The rabbit continued shaking her. You can fight it! Just wake up!

The vixen offered very little response to the rabbit’s vehement shaking. He looked back over to the mare, then back to the vixen.

“You’ll understand,” the mare said. “You have the hunger, too, now. It won’t be long until you amass a little army of your own… and then you’ll think twice about judging me for being a monster.”

He shook his head. ‘No…’ He buried his head into the fox’s chest, then he dashed down the hallway, disappearing behind a corner. The vampire would not see him for the rest of the night.

The rabbit, despite struggling to find his way around, finally found the front door and shot out. The doors opened to a thick forest with a winding path, surrounded by metal fencing. He stared it down.

The cursed musician disappeared into the night.

The vampire stared out of a window, watching him fade into the darkness. “This will be the beginning of a long relationship, rabbit.”