Some may call me a Succubus, but I call myself a thrill seeker. I know what I want and I go after it.

Any vampire that can be with a human sexually - without killing them, - has true strength. And as far as I'm concerned, no such vampire exists.

When I was fourteen years old, I watched my mother being burned at the stake, for supposed witchcraft, all because she knew when someone was going to die. She could sense it, somehow.

Most people, considered her to be a Banshee.

This was in the year, 1478.

My mother, Elizabeth Fitzpatrick was born in 1447; she died at the age of 31.

Now back then, sure, that seems pretty old, but my mother would have had a long life. She was a good person; she would have done anything for anybody. Some asshole got pissed off, because she was right about his son's death. Apparently, since she knew it was going to happen, it was her fault.

Lesson for life: Don't fuck with the higher ups; they'll kill you in cold blood.

So naturally, that's all I do.

Hi, I'm Lily Fitzpatrick, and I'll be here to get my guilty pleasures for…eternity? In case you haven't figured it out yet, yes… I am a vampire. Stating the obvious is my specialty.

I was born in the year 1464, in Ireland. We were basically a poor family. It was just my mother and I. I've never met my father.

Since I was about 12 years old, I've had the opposite sex chasing me. I have always been the most attractive girl, even as a child. I could use my looks to get what I wanted, and it has never since failed me. I was wanted by many and had by few, - back in the 1400's that is. All I had to do was shake my hips and every man was on his knees.

From my tragic fourteenth year and on, I have always been alone. I'm sure my mother is looking down upon me in disapproval, but I could care less.

It doesn't matter anymore.

When and if I die, I will be nothing but a pile of ashes, there is no afterlife for my kind.

When I was 17 years old, I ran away from everything, from Ireland all together. I was tired of being looked at, tired of being stalked by disgusting men, but most of all, I was tired of having to look in the mirror knowing that I should have been able to find a way to save her, and I didn't.

I watched her burn, I watched her die, and all I could do was scream and cry like the little bitch I was.

Well, I wish all of those bastards were alive to see me today, I would have made them dig their own graves, then I would have drained them of every ounce of blood they had.

Moving on…

When I left Ireland, I didn't have a destination in mind. I just knew I had to get away. I had nothing but the clothes on my back, but did it really matter? I mean come on, look at me. I could have any man I wanted. I could get a rich man that would buy me anything. I just needed a few minutes, and a good looking enough man.

Naturally, it didn't take long.

Augustín O'Grady.

Another Irish man, out of town on business I presume.

Didn't I just finish saying I was sick of the Irish men staring at me?

Yeah, I did. Again…does it matter?

He followed in his father's footsteps. He was part of a grand family name. Him and his ancestors were Merchant Traders. Imports, exports, whatever. He had plenty of money, and he wanted me. What else is new?

Or course, I'm obviously not complaining about it now, I needed him and I could give him everything he wanted, sexually that is.

I stayed with him for a while. Travelled with him a lot, he was never stationed somewhere for longer than a week. I gave him what he wanted, I let him put a piece of himself inside me and I let him drag me around like a trophy, showing me off. In return, I had everything my heart desired, by which I mean, money, clothes, shelter, esc.

About 7 months later, it was time to get out of there.

Augustin proposed to me.

He... was a nice guy and everything, fairly decent looking, but I didn't want to settle down. I had a life that I wanted to live to the fullest. My mother survived without being tied down by a man, I could do the same. I could just use them for when I needed money. Men aren't worth the trouble. Case closed.

It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, leaving Augustin. He simply refused to let me.

When I tried to pull my arm from his eager grasp, he slapped me in the face, which made me lose my balance and fall to the ground.

I had never been hit by a male before.

I remember his exact words.

"Ungrateful wench. Your presence is not to leave my side, or death will fall upon you. Do not begrudge

me your body."

He locked me in a windowless den, or a 'chamber' if you will. Only entering the room to put his filthy body on me. I hated myself for getting into this situation. My mother always warned me about the Irish men that lived near us – she was raped, that's how I was conceived, - but I figured that it wasn't a big deal. I wasn't even in Ireland.

I wasn't exactly sure where I was anymore.

Trying to figure out why I hadn't thought of this weeks ago, I watched him walk through the door, than lock it. He turned around giving me a disgusting yellow, toothy grin and started undoing his pants.

He stepped over to the bed, where I was sitting. I was trying my hardest to hold back my stomach acid. He placed his gigantic hand on my face, pushing me down forcefully.

Normally, he would lie on top of me, watching me cry while he violated me. But not tonight.

Never again.

He placed his heavy body on me, putting one of his legs between mine, which left one of my legs between his.

Perfect.

Augustin started kissing and licking the cleavage that was sticking out of the top of my corset. I had to wait for him to drag himself up my body a little more, just so I could have the perfect shot.

I only had one chance.

He was taking his time, moving further down, placing feather light kisses on my clothed stomach. This wasn't working the way I had hoped it would. He stood up, pulling me with him.

Have you heard of Cinderella's story? Yeah, this was the polar opposite for me.

I was the damsel in distress.

There was no Prince Charming to save me.

There was no Black Knight.

No white horse.

No, hero. Period.

If I wanted to be saved, I had to do it myself.

I was standing up straight by now. He circled his arms around my back so he could un-tie the lace, which was keeping the corset together. He placed his hands on my arms, rubbing them gently at first, then more roughly, until he was scratching me.

I could feel liquid trickling down my arm. He dragged his fingers across the pulsing crimson, bringing them up to wipe upon my lips.

He was staring at me expectantly. He actually wanted me to lick the blood. Disgusting. Who does that?

He rushed his lips to mine then, tasting the wet syrup for himself. I grimaced. I didn't want his lips anywhere near me, especially sampling my bodily fluids. Now, a small part of myself was inside of this being. I couldn't call him a man, he was barely human. I felt nauseated.

My heart beat started to race as I was trying to keep the contents of my stomach down. I still had a job to finish.

He dropped the corset to the ground, leaving my chest exposed to him. He lowered his head to my nipple, parting his lips over it. He softly licked the sensitive skin at first, causing it to pebble. My body was betraying me, no matter how sick he made me feel, no matter how disgusting I thought he was, my body still reacted to his touch.

He left his mouth to tease my nipple, while his hands roamed down to my pelvic bone, scratching and pinching all the while. I jerked my leg because of the extremely painful clawing that was causing me to bleed again. He always warned me not to move or he would do something that he didn't want to do.

Please…

He would do anything to me as long as it caused me pain. He was really into masochism that way.

He further lowered his hand to my knee - to keep me steady, - then he bit my nipple so hard, I could literally feel his teeth in the cell tissue.

I let out a blood curling scream, and it didn't faze him a bit.

I had plenty of wounds, scares and bite marks from him befouling my body weeks prior, but he'd never been this aggressive before. He'd never actually tried to rip off one of my body parts with his teeth.

So… it was now, or never.

My scream was so loud, that is caused my vision to go red and it blurred from the tears. I realized later on, that the redness was indeed from popping my own blood vessel – but all I could think about at the moment was, "How am I going to get to him, if I can't see?"

I wiped the tears away from my eyes, still seeing complete red. Though the monster's face was fairly clear in the crimson haze. I fell down to my knees, the pain was agonizing. He shoved me against the side of his mattress, took his dick out of his pants and forced it into my mouth.

Exceptionally stupid of him, but an even more perfect idea for me.

I pulled back slightly, trying to take a deep breath. I wasn't looking forward to having the taste of his blood on my tongue, or down my throat, but if it was going to get me out of here then I was elated.

He grunted at my hesitation and shoved his hips forward, making me gag by the force of his thrust. My lips were at the base of his cock and I shakily swallowed, hearing him moan in approval.

I opened my mouth a little wider, pulling my lips back over my teeth.

He was getting impatient with me, grabbing the back of my head, trying to force me to move. I grabbed his buttocks as hard as I could, digging my nails in roughly, only causing a hiss to leave his lips.

Before he could pull me away, I bit down on his throbbing groin, as fiercely as my jaw would allow. I immediately tasted the blood and felt it gushing down my throat. I was gagging so much; I could feel the bile rushing out of my stomach.

Until I realized my teeth were connected.

I hadn't been trying to bite his member completely off, but hey, bonus points for me.

I had finally registered the screeching echoing off of the walls around me, they didn't last long though. His eyes went blank, and he fell to the floor, taking his severely detached member with him. He could have passed out, or he was dead. Either way, I wasn't sticking around to find out.

I ran out of the so called 'chamber', grabbing a dress on the way by and slipping it on. I left all of my other possessions behind; I didn't want anything that came from that disgusting creature.

I continued to run, not caring of my surroundings.

I caught a glimpse of the front gate through the window. I ran faster than my legs have ever carried me before, right past the two guards stationed at the door, who gave me a questioning look as I retreated. I guess Augustin had never told them he had his non-existent future wife locked up in the basement.

I continuously prayed that my legs wouldn't stop working, although it felt like that would be the case any moment now.

I fell down in the middle of a dirt path, I couldn't breathe. I thought my lungs had collapsed on me. The air whisked out of my mouth and burned on the way back in.

I knew I couldn't stay here, I had to keep moving, but my body wasn't responding to my mind. My vision was getting hazy, my eye lids started to droop. The exhaustion taking a complete toll over my body.

Darkness had been the scariest time for me, ever since I was 14 – it was the official time that I realized I had no one to protect me from the bad things, from the evils lurking around the corner…from the dark.

Though, this darkness wasn't so bad. It was the first time I had felt safe in a long time.

Yes – I was alone, but the longing for the loneliness was overwhelming and unexpected. I hadn't ever expected to feel this good again.