Jessica sat in the hard wooden chair in Mr Phillips’ law office, tapping her fingers on her knee and glancing at the clock mounted over the door. The desk was L-shaped and quite tidy. The part facing her was rather old fashioned – there was a blotter and an ornate, antique inkstand, along with a green-shaded banker’s lamp on it. The other side was more modern, with a PC, monitor and keyboard, all unremarkable and functional. The other walls of the office were lined with law books, save for a spot directly behind her hung with an oil painting of a sailing ship with three masts. Although there were no ashtrays, Jessica’s nose detected a faint odor of tobacco. 

The door opened and Mr Phillips entered, carrying a thick folder. The lawyer was a tall, cadaverous-looking man with thin gray hair surround his bald head, making his head look like an egg had fallen into kitty litter, an impression intensified by his rumpled gray suit.

“Ah, Mist – Miss Smith, thank you for waiting,” he said, holding out his hand. Sara did not shake it, so it hung there for a moment before he grabbed his chair with it. 

“Can we just get this over with?” Jessica asked. “I’ve never been on very good terms with my family. I’m sure this is all some sick joke or last minute plea to ‘go back to being their son’.”

Mr Phillips blinked. “Yes, well, very well,” he said. “I am sorry for your loss, anyways. They were still your parents, despite your . . . um . . . differences.”

Jessica said nothing. Mr Phillips coughed. 

“As you have already guessed, your parents did not want to leave you anything after the . . . ah . . . unpleasantness . . . between you,” he said. “However, there hands were forced because this state still permits entailments to retain their legal force if they are old enough and this one is quite old. It forced your parents to leave you Dashwood House, together with enough assets to guarantee you can maintain it and pay the property taxes.”

“Dashwood House? I’ve never heard of it,” Jessica said. 

“It’s a mansion, over on Cemetery Hill Road,” he began . . . 

“ . . . It’s absolutely enormous, with about 50 bedrooms on 200 acres,” Jessica said.

She was sitting around a table at a bar with three of her closest friends: Sara, Audrey and Lucy. Sara and Lucy had been close with her since childhood, and supported her from the moment she realized she was trans, all those years ago. Audrey was one of her first transfemme friends when she came out. 

“Wow,” Sara said. 

“What are you going to do with it?” Audrey asked.

“Live in it, of course. I mean – it’s a mansion, it’s mine and I can live there for free,” Jessica said. “There’s room for me and 49 others. It’ll be a safe space for queer people. We can also throw some bitchin’ parties there.”

“Hell yeah,” Lucy said.

“Your parents finally did something good for you,” Sara said.

“Not really,” Jessica said. “They were forced to by the terms of the original bequest.”

“Oh, speaking of that – you said there was a catch,” Lucy said. 

“Oh yeah,” Jessica said. “Apparently, in order to make the bequest take effect, I just have to stay there for one night.”

“That’s so weird,” Lucy said. “I’ve never heard of a bequest operating like that.”

Jessica shrugged. “You’re the law student,” she said. 

She took a sip of her drink. “So,” she said. “What do you say? Want to stay with me for the night?”

The girls agreed enthusiastically and set Friday as the night of their sleepover. 

The Uber driver dropped the girls off at the foot of the drive. Jessica unlocked the cast iron gate and together they opened the creaky, heavy thing. The driveway was paved, but cracked, with plants, including some young trees, shooting up through them. The park surrounding the house was quite overgrown.

“Guess they haven’t really maintained it,” Audrey said. 

They turned a corner and the house came into view. It was a massive edifice of gray stone in a kind of gothic style, with turrets and crenellations.

“Mansion? That’s a castle,” Sara said. 

Inside, there were more signs of abandonment. What furniture there was was covered by sheets and there were thick layers of dust everywhere. Lucy sneezed. 

“Well, this isn’t what I was imagining,” Audrey said. “I thought your family got money to maintain it.”

“They do,” Jessica said. “I guess they were doing the bare minimum and pocketing the rest. Kind of typical with my family.”

They explored the house together, not wanting to get separated. The stone was cool and shadowy, despite the afternoon sun. Jessica was relieved to discover no signs of mold or water damage, excited by the ballroom and unnerved by the basement. There was a huge, though empty, wine cellar, but then behind an assuming door, was a room with only a few slits for windows. It was seemingly the dustiest and most decayed. Several rectangular slabs were set into the ground and bronze or brass candelabras held the waxy remains of dozens of candles. 

Kneeling down on the floor, Jessica blew the dust away from one of the slabs to find a nameplate: “Abigail Dashwood,” she read. “Born 1712, died 1736. ‘Blood is thicker than water.’”

“It’s a crypt!” Lucy said. 

They all backed away out of the crypt. Jessica did not notice that she erased some chalk symbols on the floor as she left. 

Back in the main entrance they held a council. 

“No offense, Jessica, but this place is a dump,” Sara said. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Lucy asked. 

Jessica thought for a moment. The house clearly needed a lot of work before it could be habitable, it might even take multiple years of the bequest to do so. Still, it was a house she would own, a gigantic mansion she could use for anything she wanted, like provide free or low cost rooms to transpeople in unsafe living situations, though the crypt was undoubtedly creepy. Yet, as she looked around at the walls and rafters, the house was filled with liquid golden light as the sun set, she could imagine it restored to its former glory. 

“Yes,” Jessica said. “I’ll stay here the night.” 

They found a comfortable-looking room around a large fireplace and brooms in a closet. They opened a window and were able to clear the dust out of it. As the sun set, they lit some flashlights and ate some of the food they brought. In the dark, lit only by their flashlights, they felt very exposed. 

As the dark outside deepened, the wind picked up and soon it was blowing hard against the stone wall. 

“That wind is something else,” Lucy said. “It sounds like the wailing of the damned.”

They sat talking for a bit and then Sara announced she was feeling stiff and was going to take a walk. She grabbed a flashlight and disappeared into the darkness.

Sara only meant to walk down to the end of the hall and come right back. Halfway down the hall, she suddenly felt like she was being watched. She spun around, suspecting a prank by one of the other girls, but there was no one there. She suddenly felt cold and her skin broke out in goose pimples. Her flashlight flickered and went out. She was very afraid. 

Around her, a reddish orb began spinning around her. She watched it as spun, it was mesmerizing, but it was fighting the fear she now felt. She ran, unsure of the direction, but she ran. The orb pursued her, its light began pulsing. Then it went out and she stopped running, breathing hard. 

The orb reappeared in front of her, in a burst of pulsing red lights. She could not resist. She sank to the ground. The orb filled her vision and then her mind. 

Audrey . . . Audrey . . . 

Audrey looked around. Sara had only been gone a few moments, but someone was calling her name. 

“Did any of you hear that?” she asked. 

“Hear what?” Jessica said. 

“It sounded like someone calling my name,” Audrey said. 

“I didn’t hear anything,” Lucy said. 

Audrey . . . come help me . . . 

“I think it’s Sara,” Audrey said. “She’s in trouble.”

Audrey stood up and grabbed a light. “I’m going after her,” she said. 

“But she hasn’t been gone long – we should all be hearing her,” Lucy said. 

Audrey . . . Audrey . . . help me! 

“I don’t care what you can’t hear,” Audrey said. “I’m going to check it out.”

“I’m coming with you,” Lucy said. 

“Guys! We should stick together. I’ll go with you,” Jessica said. 

She stopped to grab a flashlight as Audrey and Lucy walked out of the room. She was only a step or two behind, but it was enough. As soon as Lucy had passed the threshold, the heavy oak door slammed shut with a boom that reverberated through the room. 

“Audrey! Lucy!” Jessica shouted. 

Audrey and Lucy turned around and pounded on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. 

Around Jessica, the other doors and windows in the room slammed shut before she could run to them. 

“Jessica!” Audrey yelled. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Jessica said. “I’m scared!” 

All thoughts of helping Jessica vanished from Audrey and Lucy’s minds as red orbs manifested in front of them. Their flashlights flickered and went out. The orbs filled their vision as they danced and spun and soon enough, they filled their minds, too. 

Jessica was trapped. She didn’t understand what was going on and panic was setting in. Then her flashlight flickered and went out. She was trapped, alone and in the dark. She sat down, crying and hating this stupid house and the transphobic parents who left it to her.

Then she was no longer alone. 

The flashlights turned on suddenly and she screamed. There was an unfamiliar woman in the room. She was beautiful, wearing a richly decorated white dress. Her soft, plump lips were ruby, but her eyes glowed red and her skin was yellow and pale, like that of a corpse. 

“Hello, my child,” she said. Her predatory smile made Jessica scream again. 

Sara awoke on a plush, soft bed on the second floor. Her head felt foggy. She suddenly realized she was naked and sat bolt upright. 

The red orb appeared before. Despite her fear, the pulsing, swirling light made her feel calm and relaxed. 

“You will obey,” said a voice from the orb. 

There was no fighting it. “I will obey,” Sara said. 

“You will be my fleshly vessel,” it said. 

“I will be your fleshly vessel.”

“You cannot resist.”

“I cannot resist.”

“I control your mind and will and soul.”

“You control my mind and will and soul.”

“Good girl.”

The orb transformed into the image of a beautiful woman. She caressed Sara and she felt the arousal spreading in her body. She could no more deny the pleasure than she could resist the ghost’s commands. In response to the ghost’s touch, she spread her legs. 

“You are going to orgasm for me now,” the ghost said. “At the moment of total release, your mind will be blank and I will assume control of you. You will just be a servant to me and trapped in your head.”

“I will be a servant for you. You will control me.”

The ghost lowered its head between Sara’s thighs and began to lick. Sara had never felt anything like the ghost tongue on her pussy. Her arousal and pleasure spiked. She moaned  and writhed under the ghost’s ministrations. Soon enough she screamed as she came. 

Outside the room they had made camp in, Audrey and Lucy were also well on their way to being controlled by the ghosts. They were using them like puppets to kiss and fondle each other, overwhelming their minds with arousal. 

In the room, Jessica was paralyzed by her fear and didn’t try to move away, even when the woman caressed her cheek. 

“Wh-who are you?” she asked. 

The woman laughed. “They didn’t tell you anything? I guess that’s why you’re the least prepared heir I’ve seen in two hundred years,” she said. “I am Abigail Dashwood. I was the first wife of your ancestor, Andrew Smith. I am a vampire. When I returned from death to feed on the blood of the living, he made a magical pact with me, promising that the blood of the eldest heir would be mine forever – but he tricked me: while I rested in my tomb, he encircled it with a ward of binding that sealed me inside. Forewarned, the heir could spend a night here and as long as they did not break the seal, they would lose only a small quantity of blood – enough to keep me going until the next heir came. But you broke the seal. Your parents never warned you.”

The reminder of her parents and her hatred for them overcame Jessica’s fear and she was up. If they intended for her to die, she would live to spite them. Seizing a flashlight she hurled it through a window with as much force as she could, shattering it. She ran to it, grabbed a chair and climbed on it, intending to climb through it to what she presumed was the safety of the outside. 

But she was seized in a cold grip. Abigail! The vampire dragged her from the window and turned her round, so Jessica was first to look into her face. 

“Oh, that won’t do at all, my dear,” she said. “Still, you’ve got spirit. Look into my eyes.”

All Jessica’s resistance and tension melted away in the force of the vampire’s hypnotic gaze.

“That’s better,” Abigail said. “You will obey me.”

“I will obey you,” Jessica found herself saying. Strangely, she felt the psychic invasion to be arousing and blushed. 

“You will not resist and you will not try to escape,” Abigail said. 

“I will not resist and I will not try to escape,” Jessica repeated. 

“That’s better,” Abigail said.

Jessica watched, horrified, as Abigail laughed and fangs grew from her canine teeth. Then she plunged them into her neck. Jessica was expecting pain, she did not expect what actually happened, which was mind blowing pleasure. She couldn’t help herself, she orgasmed as the vampire drank her blood. 

“Oh, this is interesting,” Abigail said. “Nothing like the other Dashwood heirs. What a tiresome lot of dull, conventional men. Your blood is . . . exciting. Hmmm.”

Jessica sank to her knees again, sobbing. 

The door burst open and Sara, Lucy and Audrey glided in. They were now wearing white dresses not unlike Abigail’s, though much more plain. As they fondled and teased one another, Jessica knew something had happened to them. Then their eyes glowed red and they seemed to be in telepathic conversation with Abigail. 

Then the vampire knelt down. “I understand now,” she said. “The conflict with your parents, your friends’ love for you. Oh, daughter of mine, your blood is too precious to drain. I have a better plan now: revenge. You and your friends will become my vampire brides. You will love and serve me for eternity – and yes, feed me until you are turned. But you will also bring more blood to me. Yes, this house will be restored and you shall bring such wanderers as you choose here. They too, shall serve and give their blood. Now, obey!”

Abigail took Jessica’s head by her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. It did not take long for her possessed friends to join in. If she had any doubts or fears left, they were soon washed away by the tide of kisses, caresses and cuddles as the five women reveled in their pleasure and fed their arousal.   

The orgy of blood had begun and the newborn vampire coven would spread, bringing power and liberation to its devotees.