IC: Crimson and Blood - Boston, 1768

[shadowoftheheart]

OOC: Read the OOC thread and post a character here: https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=430634

This doesn't take a degree in history, just a desire to play out a vampire story in the background of pre-Revolutionary Colonial Boston.

IC:

The scarlet-coated soldier stretched languidly, taking in the deep, rich air. The saltiness of the Atlantic blended with the fainly sour scent of offal and sewage, the welcoming smell of roasting meat and brewing beer, and beneath it all, the smell of death.

A custom-house was on fire in the distance. The soldier sighed quietly. He was here to enforce the laws of King and Country, to do his duty in gently guiding these people back to a Rule of Law. He nervously glanced over his musket, patting the little packet of pre-rolled bullets: Parchment rolls containing gun-powder and lead shot. His powder-horn was full, he had several blocks of lead and a mold to cast new bullets, and he had a Bible .. perfect wadding-paper for muskets.

In a few hours he would be resting in a soft, warm bed, unconcerned with the fate or comfort of the owners of the house, who had been displaced to "quarter" his squadron of soldiers.

He awoke with a start, reaching futilely for a musket that was leaning against the far wall. She was tall and beautiful, dark hair flowing down past her shoulders. Her lips were shockingly red against the porcelain of her skin. Her low-cut black bodice promised joys beyond his imaginings .. but the eyes .. emerald green points of light that gripped his soul. They seemed to pull him apart, tossing aside the solder, and bringing out the man.

He smiled, and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.. He was about to stand up, when she was upon him. He made a choked, gurgling scream as unexpected fangs sunk into his neck, staining his shirt a brilliant crimson.

 

[lushlips18]

Kit

Kit sat up in one of the trees on her uncles property staring out at the sky. Her aunt was inside baking tons of pies. It was her way of coping with all the changes and the tension going on. Her uncle had been leaving and going to secret meeting with other men that lived in Boston. Her aunt was worried that the British would find out about these secret meetings and have him arrested. Kit had to admit there were a couple close times but her uncle had always managed to outmanuvered them somehow. She supposed she should go back to her chores but the view was too breathtaking to leave just yet.

 

[poohlive]

The main road was a bussle of life, people running and passing him by. He could barely take a step before two others occupied the same space a few moments afterward. The bright young man in dark robes could only smile, his eyes atwinkle with life.

The day had been more than eventful for him. He was glad it finally came to an end. He'd been running here and there on various little errands that took up his day. His flock could stand no less though. He helped to take away their fears and show them the courage of the Lord. If that meant going to a few cottages and seaying some quiet prayers, he would do so.

Now, as the day faded he made his way back through the lively streets of Boston to his church. He didn't reach it until well past nightfall, opening up the doors and letting the fresh sea breeze cool the entire building.

"How have you been Father?" A young boy in small brown robes came up to him, running through past the rows of benches on either side.

"Eric... what did I say?"

Eric skidded to a halt mid-way, "Sorry Father, but it's important news. We recieved a letter today. From the British. It even says Urgent in big bold letters. I don't know what it is, but they were pretty mad they couldn't give it to you directly."

The damnable British. He sighed, passing by the boy with the letter gripped tightly in his hands.

"I will have nothing to do with them. This is my church, and my people. Don't they understand that?"

"I know father, but they-"

Carl took the letter, and paused at one of the candles under the cross. He gave a prayer to his Savor, as the letter burned from the flame.

"Hear it well, Jesus."

He needed to go prepare. Dinner would be ready soon, and there were always a few guests eager to please an old reverend with their company.

"Come along, Eric."

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She smelled the taint of smoke on the air and hurried just a little faster to finish up and lock the school. Times were shifting, and she wished that both sides would find apeaceable way to settle things. Or at least not involve their children - she'd had to break up more and more fights, and children who were once fast friends were beginning to grow apart because oftheir parent's politics. It was hard for her to watch.

She heard a raucus shout and decided that she would feel better the sooner she was inside. Boston was growing, it was getting so that it wasn't always as safe as it had been. Not at night anyway. She hadn't realized how dark it had gotten, she finished locking the doors and set off for her rooms, smiling to those she knew and trying to stay out of the notice of the groups of young men, colonist and British alike.

She relaxed a bit when she got away from the busier streets and into the quieter section of town, slowing and taking the time to appreciate the stars and the elegant, peaceful neighborhood - both beautiful, niether exhibiting the tension of the populace. Too bad the peace was the illusion, and the tension a growing reality. She tugged her shawl a bit closer against the beginning of a chill.

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

The soft, steady sound of hooves against pavement approaches behind Anna as Vincent rides up on a magnificent black stallion and pulls it to a halt. He dismounts gracefully and gives her a sweeping bow followed by a charming smile. His outfit speaks of his wealth but also modesty, sporting a pair of black boots, matching trousers, and white shirt under a coat of midnight blue.

"It's getting awfully late, m'lady, and the streets arent as safe as they used to be. Would you allow a gentleman to escort you home?"

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She had stood aside as the horse approached and tried not to blush at the gentleman's offer. For gentleman he was indeed. His dress spoke of money and his manner of breeding and she was acutely aware of her own lesser status.

She found her voice, keeping her manner modest, "Thank you, the company would be pleasant. I'm afraid Boston is not as close knit as it once was, I fear I don't have the pleasure of an introduction. I'm Anna Morris, of New York."

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

At her introduction, Vincent smiles and gives her a sweeping bow, taking her hand gently in his and brushing the back of it with his lips.

"Vincent Mordrim, at your service m'lady..."

He rises back up and gives his horse a gentle pat, sending it galloping off as he moves beside her, offering his arm and another charming smile, not caring at all about status

"Where to, Miss Morris?"

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She took his arm gently, with the proper trepidation, but had to admit he was certainly handsome...finding her thoughts turning to impropriety that she hadn't visited since her fiance had disapeared. She turned her face away until the blush faded from her cheeks, collecting herself.

"Master Mordrim, I take rooms not too much further along, a few more streets and then south, the house with the red door." She smiled softly, letting herself appreciate his solid strength under her hand and walking at an easier pace.

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

Vincent smiles, grinning darkly on the inside, as Anna takes his arm, and as she turns to blush, he takes the opportunity to look her figure.

She was definitely beautiful, and her touch infinitely gentle. He grins in appreciation as he exxamines the curve of her breasts through her dress, wondering what they would feel like in his hands...

His smile returns as she gives him directions and he leads her through the dimly lit streets with ease.

"Please, no need to address me so, m'lady, you are not my servant or anything. Just call me Vincent..."

He couldnt help but look at her face as they walked, inhaling her delicate scent. As they reached the door, he takes her hand and kisses it again, his other hand moving to rest against the small of her back, pulling her closer...

 

[sharingfantasies]

Priscilla Masterson

Pulling the hood of her gray cape closer around her face, twenty-six year old, Priscilla Masterson, remained still against the outside wall of her garden. Waiting impatiently in the shadows, Cilla was rewarded when she heard the clunking of soldiers’ boots on the cobblestones of Main Street. The narrow alley that ran behind her uncle’s house, now her house, was fifty yards from the corner where Bailey Street crossed Main. She followed the British soldiers’ progress across the street, and when she heard the bayonet on the end of their muskets clang into the sign over the cobbler’s shop, she began to count silently. When she reached fifty, she grabbed her long skirts in one hand and ran across the street, her soft slippers barely making a sound as they brushed over the rounded stones. Placing her feet carefully as she ran, she knew that one false step would bring her down, and the soldiers back. As it was she only had a half hour before they would return following their nightly routine.

When she reached the other side of the street, she moved into a doorway of the silversmith. Shaking out her skirts, she gave the signal with a series of soft taps on the thick door. Instantly it opened and a long arm reached out, grabbing her and pulling her inside. The door closed with a soft thud and the bar was placed across it before she could even push back the hood and brush her ebony hair from her green eyes. Following Johnny, the shop’s apprentice down the hallway, she felt a frisson of fear and excitement flow through her blood. At a doorway to a small closet she waited while Johnny pulled out the rolling cart and lifted the wooden hatchway in the floor. The sudden burst of lamplight temporarily blinded her and she reached out to Johnny’s shoulder to keep from stumbling. When her eyes had adjusted she stepped down the staircase into the secret room of the Sons of Liberty.

Keeping her eyes lowered, as not every man in the room was thrilled to have a woman amidst them no matter who she was or what she was doing there, she located the man she had come to see, sitting in a back corner eyes alert even as he listened to Samuel Adams describe something about a map. Working her way across the room, she brushed by the silversmith Paul Revere, and crouched down by Luc’s chair. She felt his hand slide down her back and into the pocket of her cape. Cilla could feel the heat radiating from his hand through the layers of her cape, her dress, two petticoats and a chemise. As he pulled his hand from her pocket, she shivered at the loss of heat. Luc put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, with a soft whisper he thanked her, kissed her cheek then gave her a light push to send her on her way.

Back up the staircase and out of the closet, she waited while Johnny replaced the trap door, and rolled the cart back. Her eyes now adjusting to the dark, she followed him back to the shop and waited as he pulled back the bar. Both of them held their breath as they listened for any sounds other than the crickets. And when they both released a sigh of relief, she pulled up her hood and fled the building, the secret parchment deep in her pocket. Once she reached the gate to the garden, she paused, listened, then slid out of the alley onto the stone pathway of the garden. Latching the gate, she moved toward the peach tree and settled onto a wrought iron bench. Her hand at her heart, feeling the heavy pounding, she sat quietly until the adrenalin rush had passed. Leaning back on the seat, she felt her body and mind calm, as she watched a barn owl fly overhead in the moonlight, grateful she was not anyone’s prey that night.

Cilla was in the kitchen closing the back door when she heard the clang of the bayonet hitting the shop sign, Her companion and maid, Annie, had retired to her bedroom hours ago, and as Cilla made her way through the dark rooms to her own bedroom on the second floor of the manor, she realized how tired she was. Entering her room she began to shed her cape, taking the parchment with its black ribbon out of the pocket and secreting it away in the hidden compartment of her jewelry chest. Unbuttoning the front closing of her dress, she quickly shed her garments and slid into the voluminous flannel gown. A quick trip to the water closet, and she was ready to climb up the small steps to the feather mattress of her tester bed. Sliding under the bedding she leaned over and turned up the wick of the oil lamp next to the bed.

Picking up the book she was currently reading, she glanced at the title, “Denizens of the Slavic Countries: Real or Not?” and grinned. Uncle James had a huge library of the strangest books, which Cilla had inherited when she inherited the manor. His tastes ran from the occult, to the supernatural, mythological and things unexplainable. In the six months that she had been living there, she had only finished the section on mythology. Now she had started on the unexplained things section. Although she had to admit with a grin, half the time she was torn by a desire to be stop out of fear and the rest of the time she was tempted to stop because it all seemed to ludicrous to believe. Nevertheless, she had made a promise to herself to read her way through the entire library. Snuggling into her bed with the blankets pulled up around her shoulders, she read, “Blood suckers and others are commonly found in the area of the Slavic countries, however they can be found all over the world.” With a shiver she read until her eyes began to blur, then turned down the lamp and fell into a dream-filled sleep of flying bats and humans that drank blood.

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She smiled gently and continued to call him Master, talking of nothing of importance on their walk, until they had reached her door. He kissed her hand and pulled her close to him with an easy strength. She felt herself flush at the attentions and resisted.

"Master Vincent, please... thank you for your company, it has gotten late and I truly should be off the street before someone believes we are being improper." She noticed that trying to pull away from him seemed to not affect him at all and the first thrill of fear settled in her stomach... she couldn't be in any true danger, could she? Not here on her very door step? She tried to pull her hand from his, her voice begging softly, "Please..."

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

Vincent smiled reasurringly down at Anna, her begging voice sending a shiver down his spine. He locks her eyes with his, willing her to submit and become his before he leans in and presses his lips against hers in a gentle but heated kiss.

After a few moments he breaks the kiss and gently strokes her cheek with his fingertips before taking a step back and separating from the soft warmth of her body.

"Have a good night, Anna... I hope to see you again soon..."

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She found herself pinned by his gaze, getting lost in his eyes...wanting him... he kissed her ever so gently, taking the liberty as if it was his by right. She didn't protest. He released her, pulling away and she suddenly felt lightheaded.

"Have a good night, Anna... I hope to see you again soon..."

Her mind tried to find the meaning to what had happened, but her body just desired more of him.

"Have a good evening, Master Vincent." her soft voice chimed, sounding far away to her own ears, her thoughts busy. She found the doorknob and let herself in, climbing the stairs to her rooms with less than her usual grace. Why had she let him kiss her? Could she have stopped him? Would she want to? She blushed, remembering his touch, her flesh still heated by desires left too long ignored. She locked her door behind her and tried to focus reading, but soon gave it up, her thoughts too much on Vincent, on the stange encounter of the evening. She wondered if she would ever get to sleep. She ended up changing into her night things and sitting by the window, watching the darkened street, not knowing what she was looking for.

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

Vincent grins at the door as Anna entered her home. He takes a look around, remebering the exact location of the house; he would definately return...

But for now, it was time to hunt. He's not fed for two days now. As he walks away from Anna's home, the shadows around him seem to shift towards his body, giving him a transluscent appearance before concealing his form completely.

Vincent moves silently and swiftly in the shadows back towards the main roads, and soon he spots a pair of redcoats on patrol some distance ahead. He extends his arms as he approaches them, his eyes turning from a deep blue to blood red as his nails and canines elongate, forming claws and fangs.

The first soldier falls heavily to the ground, his head at an odd angle displaying a broken neck. The thundering of a musket shot echoes into the night is quickly followed by a scream quickly silenced as Vincent sinks his fangs into the man's neck, draining the still-twitching body dry mere moments later.

Vincent pulls back and licks his lips as the pale corpse collapses beside that of its former comrad. The vampire smirks and fades into the shadows once again as the yells and steps of over a dozen men rapidly approach his location, the wound in his shoulder from the musket already healing itself, leaving no trace behind...

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She jumped at the sound of musket fire nearby, watching wide eyed as uniformed men ran down her street toward the sound. She trembled, was nowhere safe from the coming storm? She blew out her lantern and slipped into bed, not tired, but not wanting to watch the turmoil of the outside world any longer.

She fell into a fitless sleep, tossing and turning, images alternately of shouting young men with guns and Vincent's continued attentions, alternative fear and arousal. She woke periodically, never sleeping deeply, never remembering the images that troubled her usually peaceful sleep, only carrying with her the combination of emotions.

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

From the darkest corner of her room, Vincent watched as Anna slept.

Something drew him back to her, and while it annoyed him that he couldnt figure out what it was, he didnt care at this moment.

This girl before him...she was asleep, and she was beautiful. Slowly he walks up beside the bed and brushes his hand against her ankle, moving it slowly up her leg through the sheets. Meanwhile, his eyes concentrate on her delicate features, watching for her reaction.

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She had been calling out softly in fear of the images in her dreaming mind, but she stilled under his touch, sighing softly, her lips moving without speech. Her face took on a serene innocence, her fingers beginning to knead gently at the crumpled bedclothes.

Her unconscious voice was barely a whisper in the quiet room, barely audible "Vincent...please..."

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

His hand sliding up past her knee, Vincent leans in closer and gently caresses her cheek with his free hand, not to wake her, but comfort and relax her as he smiles again at her innocence.

"Shhh...my little Anna..." he whispers...

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She turns toward his hand, cooing a soft sigh and becoming more peaceful, looking impossibly young and vulnerable in the moonlight, her long hair in tangled curls, her nightdress twisted high on her thighs, revealing her long, delicate legs. Her hands slid over the bedclothes slowly before finally falling still, the fingers relaxing. Her tongue peeked into view, wetting her lips slightly as she murmured softly. Finally, she shivered once before becoming perfectly peaceful.

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

Vincent lets out a sigh of his own as his hand slides up under her nightdress against the soft warmth of her inner thigh, his other hand continues to gently caress her cheek and hair as he leans in closer, taking deep breaths as he inhales her delicate scent.

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She moaned softly, then more appreciatively, then gasped as the realization that he wasn't just inside her dream reached her mind, driving her to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and took in his presence with a moment of disbelief, followed by shock. She pulled away quickly, covering herself and curling up at the head of the bed, her eyes wide, her body trembling.

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

Vincent grins down at her as she wakes. He lets her pull away at first and looks into her eyes with a piercing gaze, willing her and convincing her mind and body to trust him, to obey him, to surrender to him as he smoothly slides onto her bed and edges ever closer, his hand once again finding her leg and caressing it gently...

 

[Kathos]

Anna

She finds herself lost in his eyes again and whimpers once, not able to scream. His weight settles on the bed and he touches her again, his fingers caressing her bare leg. And yet...and yet the pleasure of it was more important than the imprepriety. His eyes held hers and she knew he wanted her to yield to him, knew he was making her desire this. Her legs relaxed, slowly stretching out again, her body reclining against the headboard without her conscious permission.

Her mind fought against him, her body was already won over. "Please...what are you doing to me? Please stop..." even to her ears her voice held no conviction, echoing only some of her fear.

 

[Furion9]

Vincent

Vincent pulls her closer to him, spreading her legs and sliding his hands more firmly up and over her thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze and smiling as he feels her body respond to his touch.

"shhh...you don't have to fear me, my dear Anna..."

His eyes reinforce his words as he pushes her nightdress up to her waist.

 

[TabascoKV]

Kali

The night time breeze differed from that of the day, but Kali found it hard to remember why and how. She preferred the night wind even after all these years of it being the only thing she had felt. When she lived at the farm, she would often crawl out of her window and sit on the roof. She would close her eyes and just focus on the feel of the wind tickling her skin.

It was that same wind that tussled her hair slightly as she walked the darkened streets. She could still feel it on her skin, but it had lost some of its allure. It didn’t blanket her or carry her as it used to. After all these years, she really couldn’t tell if she was truly feeling the wind on her skin, or if it was just a memory playing tricks on her. Regardless, she could smell it tonight. There was dampness on the air that was heavy, but the dew was common in these parts during the night.

There was a stillness out, but yet a restlessness as well. Night life was beginning to spark, and there Kali wished she could take part in it. She did not get to feed the night before, and while it was not essential to feed every night, it certainly was nice. As her footsteps carried her further into town, she found her steps become heavy the closer to the church she became. It was becoming increasingly difficult to fathom the idea that she was about to step foot inside of a holy building.

Still, she a plan in the workings, and part of that involved the priest. Her mind was not yet made up whether she wanted to turn him or not. It would take a bit more getting to know him before she could make that kind of call. Kali was very meticulous about whom she used merely for food, and those she turned to be of her own kind.

The modest building rose before her, and she stopped for a brief moment. The dark green skirt to her dress billowed out around her almost wrapping her in a dark cloud. Her piercing green eyes stared at the church as if she were trying to stare down everything it stood for. Inhaling, though it seemed a rather useless thing to do, she exhaled a lifeless breath.

Reaching up, she brushed her blonde hair behind her ear before taking the last few steps to the door. She did not enter right away, despite the invitation that had been granted to her earlier. Instead, she lifted a pale hand and slid her lithe fingers around the door knocker. Hitting it three times against the large doors, she could hear the sound echo through the hallways as if trumpeting her doom.

Her hand dropped slowly and tucked itself away inside her black cloak. This would surely be night of tails and of decisions on all their behalf.