The Innocent Life of Valerie Vale

À La Carte

À La Carte

Dark Desires was alive with sin. The music beat through the Theatre as Valerie danced across the room. She carried a tray of bottled blood and steered her way past dancing dolls. The light dazzled in a lustrous lure and there was a tremendous feast of naked flesh.

Bianca crawled along the catwalk. She was naked now. Vampires and men watched in wonder, their eyes transfixed in frozen delight. Jessica swirled around a poll while Carmen flirted from a cage. Violet entertained a crowd, bending and dancing, kissing and prancing. Amy undressed for suited men. Bankers and stockbrokers, lustful lawyers – spending their ill-gotten gains of greed. Erica sat on a vampire’s lap, a local rockstar with little ambition, a user and an addict. Grant supervised with diligence for Erica was just a girl and she had a special place in his gentle heart.

Sabrina was naked but covered in paint, a leopard shining in a golden glow. She held a hand of affluence and escorted the elite to a private room. She was fantasy made flesh. Mika was already in use. The Flower Room was sealed and no one now could enter. The cocktails were busy too – Coco, Lucy, Sophie and Belle, four of many who worked the club. Sabian rationed them; half doctor, half psychopath, it was his job to schedule the girls for feeding.

Lucia was hidden in the back like a precious jewel to be treasured. There she drank from the fountain of power. A slave to Alex, tied in pleasure, bound in love. She was the main event – a queen that sat on her nightly throne as the bitch of lasting supremacy. Valerie had set her eyes on her. The jealous whore would have her day.

Valerie was on waitress duty and had been all night. Jack had left her in a bitter state and Grant refused to let her strip. On top of that, Alex had forbidden her from having sex. He told her she wasn’t ready, no matter how much a client offered. This infuriated her to no end.

She carried drinks, bloods and shots. She was the go between, working for Karl who managed the bar. All night she served. Human patrons were mostly shy, taken aback by the sirens of sin. Some were unmoved, embodying the confidence of power and wealth. There was a social media entrepreneur who had his eyes set on Carmen, a property tycoon with cash to spend, a local congressman drunk on wine and a successful artist with a look of poise.

The vampires were different, wayward delinquents, unabashed and direct. Valerie was brand new and to them she looked incredibly fresh. They touched her while she tempted them. When they failed to impress, she moved on. During the night she was introduced to the extended gang. Lorenzo had charisma and Thorn was brave – a duo who shared stories of war and tales of sin. Liebgott too tried to speak but every word was simply foul. There was also Leon and Zain, Reed and Sven, so many names and new faces that Valerie could barely remember them all. Besides, her mind was elsewhere. There was one name and one face she couldn’t help but consider.

Jack – she hated him now. How dare he speak to her like that? How dare he save her and then embarrass her like that? How dare he treat her like that? The man was self-righteous, sanctimonious and smug – and to think she wanted him. In that moment, laying naked in the booth she wanted him more than anything. Her body had burned in arousal, in longing and ripened desire. He followed her. He invaded her space and her privacy. He forced himself into her world like every other man she’d known. He was an intruder, a pervert.

He was a handsome man but a hurtful man, cold on the inside, a bitter brute without empathy or the will to care. His eyes pierced her soul, if she had a soul, and his words resonated through her afflicted heart. The worst thing was, he understood her. He understood her deepest feelings and it shocked her, it violated her. It made her wonder.

All that anger, all that hate was spilling over and damn the man who got in her way. Damn the world for trying to control her, to use her, restrict her, dominate her and hold her. Damn them all. Damn them to hell and to fire. Valerie had had enough.

‘I think,’ said the artist, as he paused for a moment. Valerie was standing by the bar, collecting a round of expensive drinks. She turned to face him. He was old, about sixty, but he looked handsome for his age. ‘Yes,’ he continued, ‘I think I’m going to buy you.’

The man was tall. He was dressed in a black polo neck and stood with a woman by his side. She was in her mid thirties. She had short blonde hair, wore a white leather dress and had the body of a former model. She was his mistress, or perhaps at least his second wife. ‘You look like you’re...’ the artist paused again as he turned to the woman, ‘like she’s nice and tight.’ The woman smiled but Valerie failed to be amused.

‘I’m expensive,’ Valerie replied, holding back her deep disgust. ‘Am I to assume you both want to play?’ The human couple were an eclectic mix. He looked cruel and intelligent, with an ugly sense of superiority. She looked impatient and indulgent – a greedy child that got its way, time and time again. A sadistic pair, living a life of quiet perversion. Numb to the world, looking for shadows of stimulation and illusive enchantments of intoxication.

‘You assume right my dear,’ said the man as he stroked the blonde, ‘and money really isn’t a problem. I am the great Dupont. I have sold a number of paintings, modern art, some sculptures and other delights. I can pay your little fees,’ he smiled.

‘Well I’m pretty sure the Candid Room is available,’ said Valerie, pretending to sound impressed. Alex may have been in charge but Valerie refused to take orders. She felt angry and emotional and was determined to shatter any rule or expectation laid out upon her. ‘Why don’t you follow me,’ she said softly. Alex’s reaction would be worth it. His blazing fury would be her endless delight.

Valerie led the two through the Theatre, then turned into a quiet corridor and paused for a moment by the wall. ‘Where is this room,’ asked the man in confusion, ‘upstairs, or down this way?’ He glanced around as Valerie studied his puzzled face. She wasn’t interested in sex. She wanted blood.

Valerie punched the man in the neck and slammed his body against the wall. Dupont dropped to his knees. She turned to the woman who was already cowering in fear. Valerie pulled her hair and forced her down onto the ground. She tore at her dress as the woman struggled in desperation, ripping the beautiful piece apart. Valerie held her down and plunged her fangs into her chest. The woman screamed in horror as blood filled Valerie’s mouth. Dupont began to stir. Valerie turned her attention to him. She kicked the artist in the head until thick blood covered his face. Licking the wound, she tasted her treat. He tried to push her away but she was too strong. She sunk her fangs into his neck and sucked the blood from his body. The man began to shake violently. He was in tremendous fear. Valerie ripped off his cotton top and tore into his tender flesh. She showed no restraint and created a mess of vicious intent. Dupont was dead in seconds. Valerie wiped the blood off her face but she was covered in its sticky warmth. The crimson colour smeared across her gentle skin. The woman was trying to crawl away. Barely able to move, every inch was an incredible effort of tremendous proportion. Blood dripped out her chest and stained the carpet along the way. Valerie pulled her back by her leg and bit into her slender thigh. The woman moaned out in pain. Valerie turned her over and held her down, then devoured her completely. Blood – the smell. Blood – the texture. Blood – the taste. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Grant and Nico suddenly arrived, shocked at what they saw – a horrific scene of epic violence, bloodied bodies and a vampire possessed in sin. ‘Ce n’est pas à la carte,’ Nico screamed, ‘les clients ne sont pas pour nous... you fucking bitch!’

‘Keep calm and vamp on,’ Valerie smiled as she licked the blood off her lips. She didn’t speak French and she didn’t care. She was in ecstasy.

follow @PrincePegasus