Jerome stumbled out of the nightclub, tipsy and aroused. He had spent the whole night dancing and drinking, and now the warm summer breeze was like a cool caress against his flushed skin. He tripped on an empty beer bottle and almost fell headfirst on the concrete floor. Struggling to keep his balance, he staggered on the sidewalk, the world spinning around him.
It was a little past 3 am. The streets were quiet and empty, and most of the city was asleep, but Jerome’s heart was still pounding with the loud electronic music from the club. The furious rhythm was inside him, its intensity making him queasy. He stumbled his way towards a garbage bin and leaned against it. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to steady himself.
He leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, trying to steady himself.
Despite being in a good mood, he had no reason to smile. In the last forty-eight hours, he had lost his dream job at an accounting firm, and his girlfriend after finding out she was cheating on him with her personal trainer. Frustration seeped from every pore of his being, but he drowned it with liquor and mind-numbing parting. The responsible adult in him was asleep and he had no intention of waking him up.
He lingered there, unperturbed, for God knows how long, floating in a pool of nothingness that promised nothing but a fast descent to self-destruction. “So be it,” he thought, his voice fading away in the distance.
That’s when a hand touched his shoulder, soft and cold. He opened his eyes and gasped as if he had been struck by lightning. Standing in front of him were two of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. They were like creatures from a fantastic dream, with long dark hair, full red lips, and eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. At first glance, they seemed like twins, but it was both a trick of the light and the similar makeup they were wearing. The woman on the left was clad in burgundy leather from the halter top to the mid-length skirt and ankle boots, while the one on the right sported a sequined silver dress that highlighted her perfect legs. 
“Are you okay?” the woman in leather asked, her voice low and velvety.
Jerome blinked, trying to focus. “I’m fine,” he said, though he wasn’t sure if that was true or not.
The women smiled, their eyes glittering. “We couldn’t help but notice you all alone out here,” the other woman said, stepping closer to look at his discombobulated face. “Do you need help?”
“Nah. If anything, I need another drink,” he replied.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough already?” the leather-decked woman asked again.
“Are you kidding? Not in a million years! This party is only getting started.
“In that case, perhaps you’d like to party with us then.”
Jerome’s head was still spinning, but he nodded without hesitation. He had always been a sucker for beautiful women, and he no longer had to worry about being faithful to the one who despised him. He would never forgive Ruth for making a fool out of him.
“I’d love to party with you two,” he muttered, tongue sticking out of his mouth like a dog. “You look ravishing, ladies. When did you fall from Heaven?”
“Oh, he’s adorable!” said the sequined beauty. “What’s your name, stranger?”
“Jer…” he licked his lips and shook his head. “Jerome. I’m Jerome.”
“Hello, Jerome. I’m Luna and this is Dahlia. It seems we were fated to meet tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” he mumbled, admiring their angelical features. God, they were perfect! It was like they had stepped out of a painting to make the real world more beautiful and bearable. Their natural perfume was delightful and tickled his nose. 
“Come with us, then,” Dahlia declared.
Luna and Dahlia led him to a sleek black car waiting by the curb. Jerome got in the backseat, his vision blurring as if he were in a wonderful dream. They sat on either side of him, their bodies pressed close. The car pulled away from the curb, and Jerome wondered where they were taking him. But he didn’t care. He was too caught up in the moment, too excited by the thought of spending more time with these two mysterious goddesses.
As they drove through the silent streets under the auspicious light of a full moon, Jerome kept stealing glances at his new party companions. He couldn’t believe his luck. Exciting things like these didn’t happen to guys like him. Maybe he should get hammered more often to invite the impossible to his doorstep. Dahlia and Luna seemed to sense his thoughts, and they smiled at him, their expressions knowing and seductive. Not a word was said during the fifteen-minute ride, but many were thought, and all thoughts began and ended with lust.
Finally, the car came to a stop in front of an ornate mansion, bathed in white and yellow light. Jerome’s mouth dropped open. He had never seen anything like it. The house was enormous, with towering Greek pillars, rows upon rows of curved windows, and a front door so wide it could fit a delivery truck through it.
The women led him inside, their hands clasping his arms. The interior was just as breathtaking, with marble floors, sweeping staircases, and priceless Renaissance paintings hanging on the walls. He was flabbergasted and intimidated by the sumptuous spectacle unfolding before him. There was no one else around, which was odd for such a large estate, but it was late, and most people didn’t stay up after midnight.
“Come,” Luna said, navigating the entrance hall before leading him to the back of the house. They stepped out onto a large patio, and Jerome saw a figure eight pool glimmering in the moonlight. The water was warm and inviting and if he were to take a swim, he would love to drown in it.
“Do you like it?” Dahlia asked, her hand trailing down Jerome’s right arm.
“It’s lovely, just like everything else in this place. I… I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jerome stammered.
The two seductresses laughed in unison, their voices ringing like a heavenly melody. “That’s sweet of you to say,” Luna purred. “We like to surround ourselves with only the best life has to offer.”
“If that’s the case, then I’m not sure what I’m doing here,” Jerome chuckled. A shiver ran down his spine. The longer he spent in their company the more otherworldly they appeared. His thoughts wandered between deep fascination and a creeping terror clawing at his neck, and yet he couldn’t resist wanting to know more. He was drawn to the mystery and all the possibilities it entailed.
There were three golden lounge chairs by the pool, and they all sat down to admire the soothing reflections on the water. Dahlia reached for an open cooler underneath her chair, revealing a bottle filled with a dark red liquid that was too thick to be mine. She filled a cup with it and handed it to Jerome.
“What is this?” he asked, taking a sip.
“Something to make your night even more memorable,” Dahlia replied. “Relax, Jerome. You’re in Paradise now.”  
He felt a rush of warmth sliding down his throat and spreading through his body, and he sank back in his chair, eyelids fluttering. Luna and Dahlia pulled their chairs closer and began talking among themselves, their voices low and alluring. His consciousness began slipping away and he entered a trance-like state, mesmerized by their beauty.
As the minutes wore on, his perception of Time changed. The world was in slow motion, matching the speed of his thoughts. Luna and Dahlia’s hands began to wander, caressing Jerome’s hands and chest. They explored the back of his neck, his thighs, and the mound of black hair around his genitalia. He felt himself growing more and more aroused, his body responding to their touch. They leaned in close, their sultry lips brushing against his skin. Jerome moaned, his head spiraling in and out of reality. He couldn’t remember ever being so turned on and helpless.
“Pleasure, Jerome,” Dahlia whispered. “We offer nothing but pleasure. Do you want more?”
“Yes, please…” he muttered, licking his lips. “Give me more, Dahlia. Give me everything you’ve got.”
“With pleasure.”
Suddenly, they both stood up, pulling Jerome to his feet. “Let’s go inside. We’ll be more comfortable there,” Luna said.
Jerome followed, drifting in a wonderful daze. They led him upstairs to the first bedroom on the left, and as soon as they got inside, they began to undress him. Jerome’s breath caught in his throat as he watched them, his body on fire with desire. Their hands were everywhere, touching and teasing him, making him ache with need.
They pushed him onto the Texas King bed, and he lay there, naked and exposed, as they climbed on top of him, hands and mouths roaming over his sweaty torso. Jerome cried out, savoring the flood of erogenous sensations that melted his resistance, turning it into a puddle of goo. They were wild and passionate, heralds of never-ending satisfaction. Dahlia wrapped her hand around his tumescent shaft and squeezed it hard, driving him to the brink of ecstasy. It was too much!
And then, just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, they sank their teeth into his neck, and everything exploded in a burst of pleasure and pain. Jerome screamed, his body arching off the bed as the women drank from him. He squirmed and writhed, trying to fight them off but they didn’t relent. He was being drained of blood, memories, and whatever hopes and dreams were still left in him and the agonizing sensation was also the most liberating. Like every normal person growing up, he had heard stories about vampires, but never believed they were real. And yet, here he was, aways from everything and everyone he knew, being fed on by two of them.
As Luna and Dahlia drank from his paralyzed neck, a tingle ran up his crotch, an energy unlike any other. It was as if they were feeding him as well, filling him with their power and their desire. He was overwhelmed by contradictions, his mind and body consumed by the pleasure of their fierce bite.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The two vampires released him, and Jerome collapsed back onto the bed, panting and dazed. He looked up at them at their ravenous smile and blood-tinged fangs, his eyes wide and disbelieving.
“What… what was that?” he gasped.
Luna did the honors, grinning at him. Her face was flushed, her pursed lips stained with life. “Just a hint of what’s to come,” she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
“You’re monsters, spawns of evil,” he muttered, too tired to get up. “Leave me alone, daughters of Satan!”
“Oh, please…” Dahlia wiped the last drops of liquid red off her fingernails. “Satan’s a myth but if he were real, he could never handle us. Besides, you don’t mean what you’re saying. You don’t want to be alone. No one does after experiencing our power.”
“It’s inside you now, Jerome,” Luna purred, sitting on his still hard cock. “To experience The Gift is to crave The Gift. You want more. You know I speak the truth.”
Jerome growled at them like a bear caught in a trap, but knew they were right. The intoxicating bliss of being at their mercy had latched on to his soul, and the addiction was already setting in. 
“No, I…” he said.
“You’ll beg to be bitten again. Only when you do, will we give you the release you need,” Luna crossed her arms and waited.
It was happening. Every cell in his body fought against his dreams of independence. Darkness was all around him and it was winning, changing him and commanding him to leave his humanity behind.
“Please…” he mumbled, not realizing he was doing so. His fingers tapped the bed, declaring his need to surrender and become whatever they wanted him to be.
“Louder, pet!” Dahlia mocked him. “Tell us what you desire the most.
“Your venom…” he replied, shocked at his tongue’s betrayal. “All of it. I need you! Fuck, I need you to take me right now.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Luna crushed his balls. Before he had time to blink, they were already on top of him once again.
But this time, it was different. Their kisses were more urgent, their touch more possessive. Jerome could feel their hunger, their need for him growing with every passing moment. And it was the same for him. He couldn’t get enough of their touch, their taste, their scent.
As they made love, the vampires whispered promises in his ear, promises of eternal pleasure and power. Jerome’s mind was clouded with desire, and he no longer cared about what they were saying. He would do anything they asked of him, if only they remained at his side.
As the night pressed on, Luna and Dahlia took turns feeding on Jerome, each bite more intense and invigorating than the last. And with each wave of painful delight, Jerome understood he was becoming more than human. They were transforming him, filling him with their dark essence, and making him theirs.
When the first rays of dawn began to peek through the windows, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, his body spent, and his thoughts consumed by their power.
Jerome awoke several hours later, disoriented and weak. He looked down at himself and saw that he was covered in bruises and bite marks. However, there was no pain anywhere. In fact, he felt better than he ever had in his life.
He sat up, surprised to be naked in a strange room. He looked around, trying to remember how he got there. And then, fragments came back to him – the nightclub’s entrance, the two women smiling at him, and the sharp fangs on his neck and throat.
But now, in the light of day, Jerome began to doubt whether it had all been real. Maybe it was just a dream, or a hallucination brought on by too much alcohol. He got up and shocked himself once again, staring at his arms and legs and all the popping veins and muscles where there used to be none. His body was different in every way. He was stronger, faster, and more agile, reborn into maddening youth.
He looked in the mirror and saw that his once light brown eyes were now a vivid shade of green, and his skin was paler than usual. His mind raced as he processed the mixed signals that told a story beyond rhyme or reason. The impossible realization left him in a stupor, broken only by a soft knock on the bedroom door.
“Are you awake, Jerome?” a familiar voice called out.
His heart skipped a beat. It was Dahlia. He put on the robe waiting for him inside the wardrobe and opened the door.
The sexy vampire glided in, her bare feet not touching the carpet. She was wearing a long white dress with a plunging neckline that stressed her curves and made her look even more seductive than before. Jerome stared at her cleavage, his mind still reeling from the events of the previous night.
“How are you?” Dahlia asked, her eyes searching his face.
“I… I don’t know,” Jerome replied, still a little out of himself. “I don’t remember much after we… after you…”
“It’s okay,” Dahlia said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You will remember in time.”
“What’s happening to me?” Jerome asked, his voice trembling.
Dahlia smiled, her expression both reassuring and mysterious. “You have been chosen, Jerome. We’ve given you The Gift: eternal life and power beyond imagination. Tonight, you’ll be joining the Crimson Shroud.”
“I’m still breathing…”
“For now. The transformation is gradual. It takes at least twenty-four hours for your body to change for good. You’ll know when it’s time to leave your mortal coil behind.”
“But why me?” he asked, feeling a surge of fear mixed with excitement.
Dahlia’s smile widened. “Because you are special, Jerome. You have a hunger inside you, a need for something more. And we can give that to you.”
Jerome looked into her sparkling eyes, believing every word without question. Even when he had a job and a loving girlfriend, he had always felt like there was something missing, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. For the first time in forty years of existence, a new path lay before him.
“Come,” Dahlia said, holding out her hand. “There is much for you to learn.”
Jerome took her hand, and she led him through the mansion, showing him all the wonders of their secular home. He saw paintings and sculptures, treasures from all corners of the world. And everywhere he looked, he saw the same symbol – a crimson rose, twined with bleeding thorns and a cloak underneath to capture every drop.
“Is this your crest?” Jerome asked, pointing to the symbol on a tapestry hanging on the farthest wall.
Dahlia nodded. “Yes. It is the mark of the Crimson Shroud, the coven to which we belong.”
Jerome felt a thrill running through him. He was now part of a coven of vampires. It was like something out of a book or a horror movie, but it was real.
As they walked, Dahlia told him more about the coven and their ways. She explained that they had been searching for a new member, someone who could help them expand their influence and power. And they had chosen him.
Jerome was both flattered and terrified. He didn’t know what kind of power he now possessed or what he was supposed to do with it. But as he looked at Dahlia, at her beauty and her poise, he knew that he would obey her instructions no matter what.
They came to a large room at the end of their tour, and Dahlia pushed open the door to reveal a grand hall, with high ceilings and a long table set with a good deal of exquisite foods and drinks. However, what drew Jerome’s attention were the people sitting around the table. They were all women, as beautiful as Dahlia and Luna, and with an otherworldly quality that he found both alluring and intimidating.
“Welcome, Jerome,” one woman said, her voice ringing out like a silver bell.
“Hello,” Jerome replied, his voice failing him once more.
“He is still adjusting,” Dahlia said, taking a seat at the head of the table. “But he will be a valuable member of our coven.”
Jerome took a seat opposite Dahlia, and the other women began to introduce themselves. Besides Luna who had been complicit in his ongoing metamorphosis. There was Celeste, a blonde who had a mischievous glint in her purple eyes. There was also Ivory, a Nubian deity with braided silver hair, and Jade, a mixed heritage petite hurricane who always spoke her mind. She was the most critical of Jerome’s choice from the start but yielded to the majority who saw in him the perfect candidate to reinvigorate the coven’s ways.
The sun set outside as Jerome relaxed in their company. They were all so different, yet they shared a bond that was still beyond his understanding. And he was one of them now.
Dahlia and the others told him more about their coven and their ways, about the power they held and the responsibilities that came with it. Jerome listened in silence, eager to learn everything he could. They ate and drank like they were still human, indulging in all the excesses they had been denied for so long.
Hours passed and the embrace of the summer night filled the room. There were no stars in the sky, only the moon to bless his new existence.
Just before dawn, Dahlia turned to him and said, “It is time, Jerome.”
“Time for what?”
“The last step in your transformation. This ritual will bind you to the coven for the rest of your undying life. Come.” 
He followed her out of the hall with the other vampires close behind and stopped before the pool where his inevitable descent into darkness had begun. The figure eight was also the sign of infinity sideways, the perfect representation of what awaited him once he drew his last breath.
“Ladies, you know what you must do,” Dahlia declared, holding a ceremonial knife in her right hand. 
One by one, the other members of the coven took the knife and opened a vein, each one adding a few drops of blood to the water. Dahlia was the last to do so, before commanding Jerome to undo his robe and step inside the pool. She removed her dress and joined him. Her arms wrapped around him as she began to wash his body with the bloodstained water.
“Jerome, I wash away your humanity so that the real you may rise. The Crimson Shroud welcomes you as our newest thrall.”
Dahlia’s hands moved over his skin, cleansing him from the imperfections of his previous existence. She caressed the back of his head under the watchful eye of the other vampires and whispered words of power and desire in his ear. “Ours forever with the baptism of the water. Submit.”
The moonlight bathed his pale skin, and Dahlia pulled him under the water, holding him in place until he stopped struggling. A single bubble rose to the restless surface, his time as a human being lost forever. When she pulled him back up, the green in his eyes had turned to crystalline white, the truth of his immortal fate revealed.
A ruse, a web of lies he had accepted gospel when the vampire’s poison first corrupted his soul. The Crimson Shroud was a coven of women, and no man would ever be their equal. Everything she had told him, the sweet nothings about his power, were illusions to keep him sedated until the binding came into effect. 
“On your knees, slave,” Dahlia commanded as they climbed out of the pool. Jerome fell at her feet, an empty vessel to be filled by their commands forever. “You are the property of the Crimson Shroud now. You exist to serve the coven. We own you and your pathetic existence. You will not speak, and you will not protest. You will only obey your superiors. Kiss my feet and then do the same to them. That’s an order.”
Jerome buried his lips between her toes, all promises of a better tomorrow drowned with his former self. The mantle of unconditional servitude would always be with him from that moment forward. Once a thrall, forever a thrall, a shadow in their divine presence who would never see the light again.

THE END