A Deal with the Devil – A Dark Fantasy Short Story by C.L.Chick

Read Time: ~20 Minutes

Bloodlust gnawed at Ryder’s insides, its pangs matching the beat of the band’s bass, as he gazed down at his target from the second-floor balcony of the blues bar – Blaire Bonet, the most beautiful woman in his university’s graduating class. Red and blue club lights panned the dance floor and enhanced the shimmer of her dress as she moved deftly with the music.

Why did Leandro have to choose her to be his first? Not that he didn’t want her. He wanted her more than anything. She was his dream, his fantasy these last four years at university, ever since she tutored him in math freshman year. Of course, she barely acknowledged him beyond a polite hello after that. Girls never noticed him. But she was all he thought about, the very reason he begged Leandro to turn him.

He rubbed his brow and caught sight of his hand. It was white, unnaturally white, a glaring reminder of his need to feed.

Blaire’s date returned from the bar and she made her way off the dance floor to a high table at its edge. He followed and handed her a stemmed glass containing a cloudy liquid garnished with a lime. She offered a warm smile in response and he ran his hand through his hair in a move he probably thought looked suave. Ryder rolled his eyes. The guy always had his hands in his hair, like it was an obsession. And what kind of hair was that anyway? Short in the back, but dominated by unruly waves at the crown? It made him look more like a boy than a man. Ryder curled his lip. What could she possibly find attractive about him?

“Here.” Leandro bumped his arm, pulling his attention from the couple.

He looked down, saw a glass filled with dark liquid, and raised his brows.

“You’d be able to smell it if it was blood. And you know better. You get none until you get hers.” Leandro looked toward Blaire.

Ryder pursed his lips. “She’s with him, that boy with the stupid hair.”

“And? That boy is a mere human. He’s no obstacle for our kind.”

“What am I supposed to do to get rid of him?”

“Seduce him away from her, of course.”

“But he’s not gay… and I’m not gay.”

“So?”

“How do I seduce a man if I’m not gay?”

“The same way you seduce a woman, my friend.”

He looked at Leandro pointedly. “That’s easy for you to say.”

Leandro’s walk was a seduction – his deep voice, his piercing eyes, his sleek, silky hair – everything about him was a seduction.

Ryder turned his attention back to Blaire and her boy with the stupid hair. “How am I supposed to do that?” He frowned. “How? I’m not you. I can’t do that.” He’d never even tried to seduce a woman.

“You begged me to turn you for this exact reason, Ryder. You wanted to be attractive. You wanted to be able to seduce. Now that you’re no longer human, you are and you can.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t see myself in a mirror so, in my head, I look just as awkward and ugly as I always have.”

“That’s entirely in your head. You’re not that man anymore. You just need the confidence to match what you’ve become… or, you know, die of starvation.”

Ryder rolled his eyes.

“Hey, you begged for this, bud.”

“I know I did, but can’t you choose a less attractive girl? You know, one in my league that might actually say ‘yes’ to me?”

“I chose her because she is in your league. Now. Remember, this isn’t just about how you look. It’s the draw. The humans are drawn to us if you’d just wield the charm we possess. And it’s easy. Once you do it, you’ll see what I mean.”

“Okay. Okay. But choose another woman, one who isn’t with a man.”

“I won’t. You need to learn to use the draw and you need to learn it can be used on anyone.”

Ryder took a deep breath. The hunger gnawed within him.

“Do you remember when I bedded you when you were human?”

Ryder gave him a sideways glance. “Don’t remind me.”

“You didn’t object… at all. In fact, you were eager.”

“I asked you not to remind me.”

“I’m trying to make a point here. You didn’t object because you wanted me to have you, all of you, because I drew you. You said it yourself; you’re not gay. Why do you think you let me have you so willingly?”

“I know. I know it was the damn draw. I just…” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“You could have the boy with the stupid hair if you wanted to… if you went both ways.”

“Well, I don’t. And I don’t want to. I just want… blood. God, I want blood. I can barely even think through the pangs.”

“And you don’t feed unless it’s from Blondie and it has to be given to you freely through seduction.”

Ryder curled his lip. “Alright. Fine.” He straightened his suit jacket and squared his shoulders. “I’m gonna do it.”

Leandro slapped him on the back. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Ryder gave him a glance and shook his head. He started walking toward the stairs, made it a half-dozen steps, then turned on his heel, walked back, and rejoined Leandro at the balcony railing. “But wait. If I draw the guy, that means I have to feed from him, doesn’t it?”

“Good point. To put him under your spell so you can get him away from Blondie and he doesn’t recall what you’ve done, you do. So,” Leandro locked eyes with him. “you are to feed from him first. Then you may feed from Blondie.”

Ryder felt a slight tug inside, but ignored it in favor of addressing more pressing matters. “We just went over this. I’m not gay,” he reiterated emphatically.

“No one’s saying you have to have sex with him. Merely feed from him.”

“Like, from his neck?”

“That is what’s customary.”

“That’s practically like making out… with a man.”

“Ryder, I’ve bedded you, most literally bedded you.”

“I’ve asked you not to remind me,” he said through gritted teeth.

Leandro rolled his eyes. “You really need to get over this aversion. Do you want to feed or not?”

The gaping pit of hunger gnawing at his insides screamed “YES!” Out loud, he said, “Well, yeah, but…” He rubbed a hand over his face.

“I had no idea you were so homophobic when you were on your hands and knees.”

“Please, Leandro.” He grimaced.

“What?” Leandro put a finger under his chin, brought them nearly nose to nose, and looked into his eyes with his piercing pale gray gaze. “Ryder, don’t you remember how you wanted me? I can make you want me again. Would you like me to make you forget your aversion to men?”

Ryder couldn’t tear his eyes away if he tried.

Leandro moved closer almost brushing their lips and, in that moment, Ryder wanted him. He wanted him so badly he forgot about the bloodlust tearing at his insides.

Leandro pulled away abruptly breaking the spell and Ryder nearly fell forward.

“You see. That’s how you use the draw.”

“How can you still do that to me?” he asked, his voice pitching up. “I’m not human anymore.”

“No, but I made you. It’s the same reason I can command who your first victim will be. I own you, Ryder.” He moved his head to the side of Ryder’s and whispered in his ear, “And always will.”

Ryder’s mouth gaped and he scuttled backwards until he was pressed against the nearest wall.

“What did you think this was?” Leandro asked smirking. “A free ride? Did you think I was going to turn you out of the goodness of my heart? That I wouldn’t get anything out of it?” He took a sip of his wine. “Come now. You don’t make a deal with the devil without paying a price. Everyone knows that.”

“So, what? Do you intend to screw me whenever you want? Am I to be your… your toy?”

“When I’m bored, sure. Why not?” He tipped his glass.

Ryder stared at him wide-eyed.

 “What? It’s not like you’ll mind. In fact, you’ll be eager for me to have you.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Whenever I want you to be, anyway.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I did when you were human. Why wouldn’t I now?”

“Because I don’t want you. I mean, not really. You know I don’t. It’s wrong for you to make me want you in that way just because you have the power to do it!”

“And?” Leandro gestured to Blaire. “Do you think Blondie will truly want you in that way?” He tilted his head and looked at Ryder over his lashes. “You wanted the power to seduce, yet you protest when you are the seduced?”

Ryder stood slack-jawed. He looked back down at Blaire.

“Ah, yes. Now, you face the moral conundrum. You feed or you starve. But to feed, you must seduce and you’ve finally realized the vampiric seduction is… wrong… a violation of sorts, wouldn’t you say?” He took a sip of his wine. “Rather morally abhorrent, isn’t it?” he added with a blithe grin.

“Well… yeah.” Ryder wrinkled his nose and pinched his mouth.

“Oh, don’t look so horrified just because I find it delightful. You will too… in time. With every seduction, your human morals will lessen and pretty soon using the humans will be easy. Then you’ll learn to kill. And that will become easier each time too, until you eventually murder without a care.”

Wide-eyed, Ryder fell back into the chair nearest him and put a hand to his mouth. “Oh, God, what have I done?”

Leandro ignored Ryder’s consternation, gestured over the balcony, and continued as though he hadn’t said anything jarring, “So, are you going to go get Stupid Hair so you can enjoy Blondie or what?”

Ryder looked up at him with a scowl. “If I do, it’s not real, is it? Not a real seduction? She’s not really going to want me?”

“She’ll want you for as long as you want her to want you and in any way you like.” He winked. “She’ll make your dreams come true, bud, if that’s what you want her to do.”

“But it won’t be because she truly wants me. It will be the power of the draw. It’ll be a manipulation, almost like… like rape.”

Leandro shrugged. “Did it feel like rape when I had you?”

“Not during. I mean, that part is all fuzzy.” He shook his head. “But yeah. That’s exactly what it was. I’m not gay. I don’t want you. I’m not attracted to you.”

Leandro cocked his head. “Well, you did say ‘please’ many times and you seemed quite attracted when you swallowed…”

“Alright! Enough already.” He shuddered, then stood, leaned on the railing, and looked down at Blaire laughing along with her stupid-haired man-boy. “I’m not going to do that to her, or to any woman.”

“Oh, you’re not?” He chuckled. “How do you intend to feed then?”

“I won’t. I’ll do without.”

“Ha!” Leandro’s eyes twinkled with his amusement. “You cannot simply do without.”

“Why not?” He looked at Leandro pointedly. “If you can command who I’m to feed from, can’t you command me not to feed?”

Leandro raised his brows. “I can. But why would I? What’s my incentive?”

“I don’t know.” Ryder looked back at Blaire. “But I love her. I don’t want to victimize her.”

“You’d rather I watch you starve?” He tilted his head in contemplation. “You know, now that you mention it, that could be amusing.” He put his hand to Ryder’s chin. “Turn and face me, Ryder.”

He met Leandro’s eyes.

“You will not feed until I grant you permission to do so.”

He felt a subtle tug inside again.

“There. I’ve given you what you want. Now, let’s see how long you endure. I bet you won’t last a week.”

***

Ryder sat on the floor in the dark, tiny basement cell Leandro was keeping him in, staring at the backs of his hands, wondering if it was possible for them to be any more skeletal. He turned them over and studied the tender, gaping holes and gashes in his wrists where he tried to drink his own blood on multiple, desperate occasions.

His mouth was so dry. All he thought about was blood. He didn’t know how many days or weeks had passed. Maybe months? It was all just time. Time without blood. He begged for a TV, a computer, something, anything to distract from the never-ending hunger. So much hunger.

Leandro had brought him nothing. And, since he was no longer human, there was no need for human facilities, no need for food, no need for any comforts whatsoever. So, his cell remained empty – just him and a cold, gray, concrete floor, and cold, gray, concrete walls and his thoughts of blood. Always thoughts of blood.

His fangs didn’t retract anymore. They were extended permanently, or at least until he fed. It kept his mouth partially open and everything inside parched, so very parched, like sand had lodged in his throat. He poked at one of his incisors. It made a small hole in his finger, but didn’t bleed. Where would the blood come from? He had none.

God, he needed blood.

The basement door opened and Leandro entered carrying a small flat screen TV. “I’ve decided to help you out, friend.” He set the TV on a metal accent table that stood outside Ryder’s cell and plugged it in. “Look. It has a built in DVD player, which is convenient since there’s no cable service down here. And I brought the perfect film for you.”

Ryder didn’t respond. His mouth was so dry, it hurt to move it to speak. He barely moved anything because every joint, every inch of him, was dry and brittle, like he’d aged more decades than possible. But he was so happy to see that little TV. He needed a distraction, any distraction.

Leandro hit the play button, said, “Enjoy,” brightly, then left the basement closing the door behind him.

Ryder watched through his cell bars intently as the opening screen appeared and filled with- blood. Oozing, dripping blood. “True Horrors!” the title boasted with an exclamation point to declare its excitement about the topic. Ominous music blared, then quieted and a man in a suit appeared. “Join us while we look at the bloodiest killings in history.” After a few more lines describing the horrors that would be shown, a more sterile voice came on to let him know the program contained violent imagery that was not suitable for all audiences.

He wished he could kill Leandro. But he wished for blood more. Even his fangs hurt. The show blared over and over again for hours upon hours, bloody scenes filling his vision. Nothing but blood. Life, existence, had come down to only the mind-numbing need for blood. He looked at the gaping holes in his wrists and thought about biting them again.

Days later, or the next morning, or a week later – who could tell? – the door opened. This time, Leandro came in with Blaire happily trailing him.

“What is this place? It’s dark down here. What are we doing here, Leandro?”

He turned off the blaring TV, wrapped his arms around her, and gazed into her eyes. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, you pretty thing. All that matters is that you’re with me.”

She gazed longingly back at him. “Yes, with you,” she said in a sultry voice Ryder had never heard come from her lips before.

He kissed her deeply, then peered into her eyes and said, “You want to give me your neck, don’t you, you beauty?”

“I do,” she said in that same sultry voice.

Ryder watched in morbid fascination as she tilted her head and exposed her throat to Leandro, then couldn’t tear his attention away as Leandro bent toward her slowly. His fangs extended and he looked at Ryder out of the corner of his eyes, enticing him to watch as he grazed them up and down along the length of her slender neck.

Ryder knew he should say something, knew he should protest, knew he should try to stop Leandro. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t speak. He was powerless. The thick vein in her neck pulsed. Blaire, the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, the smart, confident, charismatic woman he’d longed for so much it pained him. The vein pulsed again. The pumping, the pumping of her heart – he could hear it now, like a drumbeat pounding in his ears.

Boom, boom.

Boom, boom.

He stared transfixed at the pulsing vein, at Leandro’s fangs grazing her neck and then at him burying them deeply. He drank only a single gulp before pulling back and, instead of sealing her wound with his saliva, he let the blood ooze. Ryder forced his stiff joints to allow him to stand using all the will he could muster, leaning against the wall for support, then winced through the pain as he walked. Several excruciating steps later, he rested his hands and forehead on the cell bars, closed his eyes, and inhaled. Blood. He could smell her blood.

When he opened his eyes again, Leandro retracted his fangs, then coaxed Blaire to look at him. He drew her in and she kissed him, freely, willingly – at least that’s what it looked like.

He should feel jealous. Leandro was making out with the woman he’d been in love with for years, the woman he’d so badly wanted to seduce. He should feel jealous. But the blood was dripping down her neck. Blood. Right there, and such an enticing red. It flowed so beautifully, made such pretty lines.

Leandro kissed her down the front of her neck, then followed the bright red trail with his tongue up the side, all the while looking directly at Ryder. And Ryder stared. He wanted to resist the temptation, but he was too weak. And there was blood. On Leandro’s tongue, there was blood. He curled it toward him seductively, and Ryder wanted him. He wanted to kiss him – though he knew what Leandro was doing now, knew when he used the draw on him. Yet knowing didn’t matter.

“Blood,” Ryder croaked through his parched lips. “I… need… blood.”

“I’m not keeping you from blood, Ryder. That was your choice.”

“Please…” He held out a shaky hand. “Please…”

Leandro kissed Blaire passionately, putting her so far under his spell she was dazed, then turned to Ryder and said, “Okay, Ryder, if you insist. I grant you permission to feed.” He held Blaire toward Ryder like she was an offering.

“No... not that.”

“What then?” He cocked his head. “You pleaded with me to turn you. I did. You wanted me to command you not to feed. I did. Now, you’ve begged for blood and I’ve granted you permission to feed. I’ve given you everything you’ve wanted, Ryder.”

“Don’t make me...”

“I’m not going to make you do anything.”

Ryder slid down the bars of his cell wishing he could cry. But, as one who hadn’t fed, he couldn’t even have that satisfaction.

Leandro moved a cot into the basement, set it against the wall opposite Ryder’s cell, and took Blaire over and over again in front of him, feeding from her each time, enticing him with her blood, allowing it to stain the blankets and sheets. At one point, Ryder tried to tell her of Leandro’s seduction, but it was no use. Just like Ryder had done with him when he was human, she begged for Leandro, begged to do things with him, things Ryder was certain she wouldn’t beg for on her own.

And Ryder knew he should be angry, maybe even jealous. But there was blood. There was always blood. Leandro even wrote the word “BLOOD” on the floor in front of his cell by dipping his fingers into the holes he’d made in her breasts. And she giggled at it and then kissed him passionately. Then she requested he have her again.

After what felt like an eternity, Leandro went upstairs – and left Blaire behind. Ryder didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he stared at the word ‘BLOOD.’ He could smell the blood it was drawn with, her blood, and wished his tongue was long enough that he could lick it off the basement floor. All the while, the pulsing of her heart flooded his hearing, calling to him, beckoning him.

Boom, boom.

Boom, boom.

Despite his efforts to ignore it, he couldn’t shut it out. He put his hands over his ears thinking he might go mad from it until, finally, a groan interrupted the unrelenting thumping. Then he heard a soft voice ask, “Where am I?”

Was she talking to him? He tilted his head up and, for a moment, gazed upon the face of an angel with her blond hair haloed by the dim lamp above the cot, the only light in the basement. She put her hand above her eyes to block its weak beam as she peered into the darkness of his cell.

But as angelic as her face might be, she wore one of Leandro’s shirts with the top buttons open, exposing her neck where its beautiful veins pulsed with the beat of her heart.

Boom, boom.

Boom, boom.

“Is there someone in there?”

He looked up from her neck to see concern in her eyes. Couldn’t she see his fangs? His gaze dropped.

Boom, boom.

Boom, boom.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” She drew his attention again as she scooted off the cot and stumbled. She leaned on it to regain her balance, then held her hand to her head and gave it a shake before she squinted in his direction. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he managed.

She approached the bars and put her hands on them. “Who are you? And where are we?” She faltered and almost collapsed, but held tightly to the bars to prevent herself from falling.

“It’s Ryder… from school.”

“Ryder?” she repeated, then almost fell again. She put her hand on her head. “God, what’s wrong with me? I’m so dizzy. And everything’s foggy.”

“There are keys… by the door,” he eked out.

“Keys?” She looked to the door. Her eyes widened when they caught sight of the dangling keyring on the shelf next to it. “Keys,” she repeated, fixing her eyes on her new goal. She shook her head again in an obvious attempt to clear it, then shuffled to the key rack on unsteady legs. He forced himself to stand through the blinding pain as she clumsily tried each of the keys on the basement door lock, dropping them several times, and blurting out frustrated curses with each failure. Eventually, she gave up and made her way to his cell, then tried each key in its lock until the tumblers moved.

Ryder stood against the rear wall for support as she pushed the iron bars open and entered with her hand outstretched. “Are you okay? We have to find a way out of here. Can you walk?”

“Starved,” he croaked, as he gazed upon her beauty. He couldn’t believe she was with him, with him and holding a hand to him in invitation. He wanted to kiss her. For so many years, how he wanted to kiss her. For so many years, how he loved her. And now, she was here. His gaze fell to her throat.

Boom, boom.

Boom, boom.

She shifted her weight. The light she’d been blocking caught his face for the first time and her eyes grew wide, then moved to his mouth and grew wider still. She put her now trembling hand down and began to back away.

“Don’t go… please,” he said before she averted her eyes.

She stopped moving.

He held her gaze. “Don’t be scared.” His eyes dropped to the pulsing vein. “I want your neck,” he heard himself say. “You want to give me your neck, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” she replied in that same sultry voice she’d used with Leandro.

“Come to me,” he said softly.

She complied and, when she reached him, he took her in his arms and she tilted her head – so freely, so willingly. He buried his fangs and drank deeply. The blood, it was… incredible. Delicious. Exquisite. Divine. He wanted more. More. There wasn’t enough. More. He needed more.

The dryness in his mouth was replaced by a blissful feast of warm, coppery, delectable goodness. And he drank. The pain in his joints disappeared. And he drank. His body became fluid and he felt like a new man. So satisfying. So sublime. He drank until he felt young again, then drank some more. He drank and drank until the sound of a slow clap filled his ears.

He lifted his head and turned to see Leandro sitting on the cot watching from the other side of the bars, now locked once again.

“So, how does it feel to make your first kill, friend?”

“KILL?” Ryder turned back to Blaire whose head lay flopped to the side awkwardly. His eyes widened.

“A girl that size only has but a gallon and a half in her at most, bud, and you just drank like you were feasting on a never-ending Nile.”

Blaire’s eyes were open, their vacant gaze fixed on the ceiling. He felt for a pulse, but found only stillness. The gaping wound he’d created lay bloodless and barren. He stared at her, his love. He did this. He killed her.

“And tsk-tsk. So hungry, you didn’t even have your way with her first.”

Ryder turned to him stupefied.

He shrugged. “At least one of us managed to… several times. And she was quite good, as I’m sure you saw.”

He glared at Leandro.

“I like this game though. I think we’ll play it again.” He opened a book. “I went by your old place and found this.” He lifted it showing Ryder the cover. “Your university yearbook, yes? Now, I was trying to decide if I should choose your next victim based on who I most want to bed or who I think it would destroy you most to kill.”

“No.” He shook his head from side to side. “You sick bastard. No.”

“Then, I struck gold and the decision was practically made for me.” He clapped the yearbook closed. “You’re not going to believe it - a literal goldmine of potential victims.” He held up another book for Ryder to see, then turned it to read the cover. “‘The Moore Family Album. How cute. Seems daddy’s missing but, damn, bud, is your mom still that hot? And your sis.” Leandro whistled. “Now, she’s a catch, isn’t she?” His eyes twinkled with his smile.

Ryder’s stomach sank. “No, not my family. Please, don’t. I beg you.” His body trembled.

“I did look into it, and your sis is in Colorado, and won’t be back for three months. So, I thought about it. If we make your mother your next victim, we’re guaranteed you feel the pain of it when you murder her aaand, as a sweet, sweet bonus, it will bring your sister home for the funeral. So, we can make sure you kill them both long before you lose your humanity.” He tapped the cover of the book twice. “Then we can start making our way through the rest of the family album.” He grinned gleefully.  

His body became taut. Pain crept into his chest. “Leandro, don’t do this. Please, don’t.”

“Oh, and you do have to tell me what it feels like, too… the vampiric starvation, I mean. I’ve never had to endure it myself, but I’ve heard it’s utterly excruciating. They say the pain of it is full bodied, that you feel it in every cell, and that it’s completely indescribable, being outdone only by the blinding, ravenous thirst for blood that accompanies it. Would you say that’s accurate? Having experienced it, I mean?”

Ryder stared at him blankly.

“I will say, you did look repugnant before you guzzled Blondie down, nothing but a skeleton covered in desiccated, grayish skin glued to your bones. Ew.” Leandro shuddered. “Ghastly. I mean, it even looked intensely painful.” He shook his head.

“I’ve also heard once the starvation is bad enough, the beating of a human heart can become deafening. Did it get to that point? Was Blondie’s heartbeat deafening? Before you killed her, I mean… when she still had a heartbeat?”

Ryder collapsed to his knees, with Blaire lifeless in his arms, and a tear rolling down his cheek. - What do you know? Tears came back after feeding.

“Oh, I understand. You don’t want to talk about it right now. Well, we can wait until you kill your mother then. I’m so glad you thought of this game, Ryder. After enduring more than four hundred years on this tedious planet, believe me, one welcomes any new and different forms of amusement, and this is so much more fun than if you’d just fed that first night as I’d instructed.”

“It was mesmerizing to read this. I could almost feel his desperation for blood.” - Mena Buchner