Dawn broke uneasily, as if afraid that its gray pale and milky light would disturb any occupants in the bus station. Peeping over the jagged, smelly pines and sighing, leafy willows, the sun made its presence slowly, never truly revealing its form just its light. Here in the bus station just outside New Orleans, only two occupants were slumbering, slowly stirring to the light. The clerk there was a withered old man with thin hair growing from his ears and chin, sleeping with his arms crossed over his chest, swiveling neck hanging his head low. He sat on a brown stool against the wall. The night before he had worked too late and hadn't the energy to drive home. The buses weren't due to arrive until eight anyway. The old man smelled like the station; dusty and sterilized with stingy chemicals, like a gym floor. Curled up in a hard plastic green chair was a girl about nineteen, her features hidden in her thick, leather jacket. Her legs, clothed in knee-torn jeans, were curled to her chest and half flung over the armrest. The heavy black jacket provided excellent warmth, despite the fact that it was near spring and hot. The air in the place was thick with dust particles and warmth. The top of her head was a dark red brown, straight and thick. The bell in the station rang out the time: 5:00 am.
Startled the girl looked up from her arms and breathed a heavy sigh. Uncurling from the uncomfortable chair she stretched her arms to the ceiling and clenched her fingers, imagining that she could actually hold the air. Her face was fairly square, still clinging to its childish curves. Her rather heavy but good eyebrows were always frowned in thought, as if she constantly pondered something. Deep brown eyes, the color of hot chocolate or fudge, seemed to gleam with sadness, pain and care, selflessness. Under all that pain was a shine of loving care, happiness. She possessed a fairly pretty upturned nose, not too over done or hideous. Under that nose were full lips, having their own pink-red color and old smiles tucked into the corners, set above a rather rebellious chin. Reaching into a deep pocket in her jacket the girl pulled out a pack of Camel Lights and opened it. Shit, only three left. She was trying to teach herself to smoke, she could use the relief. Putting a stick between her lips she dug about for her red plastic lighter. She cast a glance at the grimy clock hanging above a window. Bus'll be here in a few hours, she thought dimly. Not finding her wallet which had her lighter, she patted her front down.
"What the hell?" she whispered in slight panic. Frantically searching her clothes and black backpack she began to freak out. Her wallet was gone! It had her fucking money, her tickets, her lighter, ids, everything! Someone must've stole it on the bus last night. Heaving a sigh of disgust she flung her hands up and began to mutter.
"Great, that's fucking great!" she grumbled heatedly, getting up and stretching her stiff legs. Glancing over at the sleeping old man she pondered. It was useless to try to beg for reason. People didn't care. She couldn't go back to Reno; there was no one there. Thanks to them. But she had to get to New Orleans, no matter what.
Quietly flinging her light bag over her shoulder she headed out the door, letting it slam and wake the clerk. Shivering in anticipation she began walking down the empty highway. Her name was Charley Dirk Wolf. Yeah, she was named after a sword and her last name was Wolf. Big fucking whoop! She couldn't remember the last time someone hadn't made fun of her name.
To be completely honest, she loved her name. Charley was a boy name; so what? Dirk was a sword, sharp and fast. That and her spirit animal was a wolf. So it kind of fit her. For a few hours Charley walked toward New Orleans, sticking her thumb out to passing cars. No one bothered to stop. Keeping her headset on, blaring Seether, she hummed the venomous words, vaguely wondering what would happen if she couldn't get to New Orleans by night. She didn't mind the night, but they could get her faster that way. That couldn't happen.
"You fuckin' jackass!" she howled at a passing red Intrepid as it sped dangerously close, nearly nailing the girl. She shook her fist at the driver. "Watch where your going!" The driver stuck his arm out the window, parading his middle finger. Anger boiling over Charley stomped her foot and yelled obscenities at the world. Growling she stormed down the road, not bothering to signal for a ride. Near midday, when it was quite hot and she had to take off her jacket, exposing her large chest under a thin dirty shirt, a truck finally pulled over. It was an old Ford, a rusted gray color with a broken tail light. Trotting up Charley flung her bag in the grungy back then wrestled the door open. Crawling in she closed the door and ran a hand through her thick, tangled hair. "Where're ya headed?" asked a rough, Carolinian voice. Charley turned to the voice and smiled automatically. Charms win all. The driver was a backwoods hick, that was apparent. He had straw like hair, dusty blonde, and dull blue eyes. Wearing a red flannel shirt and overalls smeared in dirt, he had a bent neck that exposed his Adam's apple largely. How gross…
"New Orleans"
"A'right. Need a bit o' payment though." He was reaching for his belt.
Charley was about to ask what the hell he was talking about but shut her mouth. It popped in her head and frankly the idea disgusted her. But she had to get there. The car smelled of cows and car oil, a gross mix. Stomach turning, Charley swallowed some spit, wetting her suddenly dry throat. Whatever it takes…

A couple hours later Charley was keeled over a tin garbage can, retching dry throws. Long before she had puked out the man's thick, bitter come that had settled in her stomach. But she was in New Orleans and that's all that mattered. Wiping the sick webbing that was now on her lips off Charley straightened and grabbed her backpack. Other tourists stared at her as they skittered to the side, not wanting to smell her vomit. Slinging the bag over her shoulder the girl walked down the street as the sun began to set, not knowing where she was going. Bourbon Street had a myriad of smells that were utterly foreign to the western girl from Nevada. Brown fishy smells of oysters and the Mississippi river and the gassy, alcoholic smell of beer. And something green, fiery and burning green. It settled her upset stomach greatly but made her really hungry.
Digging through her bag Charley brought out a bag of honey roasted peanuts and dug through it, finding a few nuts and sugary grains at the bottom. Devouring them quickly she only made herself hungrier. Tossing the bag back into her pack she sighed. Where was she going to go? She had no idea where they would be.
Slumping down against a flaky brick wall Charley buried her head in her arms on top of her knees, trying to squish her hunger pains. Maybe she'd sleep here; probably be raped and butchered. Oh well. A loud car passed by, blaring music. Charley wasn't going to even look up until she realized that the car had stopped in front of her.
Peeking up to the blood-red light she spotted a large black van on the road, waiting. Two heads leered at her from the front and passenger seat, both with dread-locked dark hair and faces framed in black makeup. They had studs and chains, collars. Standing up as the door slid open Charley stared. There was a young boy, about fifteen or so, kneeling there, giving her a shy, intrigued smile, wearing a raincoat lined in purple. He had black sheaved hair, obviously dyed and eyeliner. His dark blue eyes were welcoming and warm.
"Hey, you gotta place to go?" He asked politely. Charley shook her head, still staring at the grinning faces in the front seat and the sweet boy in the back. She could see the graffiti on the walls of the van, garbage spread everywhere and a stained mattress in the back. The boy smiled again.
"You can hang with us. We got some drinks," he offered suggestively. The two in the front hooted their agreement. Giving a shrug Charley grabbed her bag and clambered in. Immediately she realized the smell of weed and something meaty, bloody. The door closed behind her, sealing the girl in. With a nice smile, the boy took her bag and set it next to the mattress, sat down and patted the spot next to him. The van started again and drove off as she crawled over. Looking about she noticed the two were smacking each other playfully, tugging on each others hair and ears. "I'm Nothing and those two are Molochai and Twig," the boy said, pointing first to himself then to the passenger, who was eating a Ho-Ho, then to the driver who was swigging a wine bottle. Charley excepted the bottle from Twig as he handed it back. Taking a large gulp she felt her stomach turn. Oh, she was hungry.
"I'm Charley, from Reno"
Molochai tossed a package of Twinkies to the girl, seeing her hungry look then grinned.
"Ah, a cowgirl…tasty"
"Mmm, delectable"
The two of them burst into insane cackling and giggling then fell to slapping each other again. Charley was quite perturbed; was that a good thing they just said? Munching on the Twinkies she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Nothing held out a little piece of paper, smirking secretively. "Try some"
"Okay, thanks," sticking the paper in her mouth she felt it dissolve on her tongue. Instantly she felt an odd tingling in her nerves and felt her stomach flip pleasantly. The graffiti seemed to swim and dance in front of her. Presently she became aware of the fact that the van had stopped and that Molochai and Twig were on the mattress, slipping hands through each others hair and under their clothes, mouths sloppily locked. Mind fuzzed she mumbled something incoherent as Nothing firmly pushed her down.
"Got to find…the…vampires," she groaned weakly before the boy kissed her sweetly. A moment later he pulled away and looked down into her sad brown eyes.
"The vampires?" he repeated vaguely, obviously tripping out. Charley shifted easily under his thin frame and light weight. Molochai and Twig were looking down at her, confusedly. Too messed up to readily care if they knew, Charley nodded sluggishly and began to giggle at the stupidity of what she was going to say.
"Yep, kill'd my family. My lil' sis' and brother, mum an' da. Sucked'em dry of everythin': al' tha' was left was husks 'n' skeletons," she explained quite lightly, choking with laughter. Snorting a laugh she rolled her head about, looking up at the dancing graffiti. Her accent floated back to its rough Nevadan self as the drug took over her voice. "Ya're probab'y thinkin', 'Psh, yeah! Vamps! Whatisshesmokin'?' Right! Gawd, I've got no idea wha' I'm doin' or where the 'ell they are or ain't!" with a snorting bout of laughter Charley began crying at the hopelessness of it all. Nothing crawled off of her on her right, Molochai and Twig on her left. Rubbing her face and smearing the heavy black makeup she choked a sob.
"Fuckin' vamps kill'd'em. 'N' now I gotta get'em, those damn'd twins! Gonna kill'em? Right...like I could kill a vamp!" she bitched venomously, the acid making her angry and reckless. Sitting up she glared at the mattresses tattered end. "Not normal vamps either. They suck your soul and beauty. I could give a flying fuck about the blood suckers, hell, I'd probably join'em if I could. I gotta get those twins"
Towards the end of her speech she gained control of her voice and brought it down and stopped the tears. Molochai and Twig looked at her darkly, exchanging suspicious and dangerous looks. Nothing gazed at her in extreme pity and in bemusement. "What? You don't believe me, do you?" Charley asked, a bit dejectedly and angrily. No one else did when she told them. Being away at college she heard the news a week after the murder. At the morgue she saw the bodies, twisted and thin, flaking away and crumbling to nothing but clean bone. A witness said she saw two boys, both overly gorgeous in silks, hair the color of brittle fire and sunny gold, enter the apartment. The apartment security cameras proved this true. With a freeze frame she studied them, with the fuzzy feeling of recognition. Finally she remembered, weeks later. An ad had been placed about two singers in New Orleans. They matched the description but it wasn't enough for an arrest. Still determined to destroy them Charley studied vamps in her books and used all her money to get to the city. But she had no idea what she was going to do now that she was here. Where to start? Where will she stay? "Oh, no. We believe you," Nothing assured her gently, thoughts lost and eyes unfocused. "More than you think," Molochai added then gave her a menacing grin, showing his chocolate webbed sharpened teeth. Twig grinned too, both of them obviously a little crazy. For a moment or two Charley stared at the two, still too messed up to really understand. Why did they have sharp teeth? Did it have something to do with the meaty smell? For some reason it just wasn't making any connection. "Tasty cowgirl"
When they whispered that hungrily it clicked. They're vampires! Vampires! Completely off guard Charley scrambled to get on her feet but the two grabbed her wrists. With unbelievable strength they yanked down and snapped her body back to the dirty mattress like a bag of potatoes. Weakly the girl thrashed, whimpering and growling, flailing her legs and thrusting her chest away from them. They just watched like amused predators, waiting and playing with helpless prey.
Straddling her and taking hold of both of her wrists Twig sneered down at her, his sharp eyes like two shards of black glass. Molochai was tugging off her tennis shoes, growling and laughing lustily. Trying to kick her legs Charley limply let Twig take hold of her wrists in one big hand then snake the other to her shirts rim. Cool, rather sticky hands glided up the skin of her stomach then stopped. Too weary from the drug and the messes that have happened, the girl gave a dry sob and closed her eyes. The weight shifted off her waist and the clasp on her belt was fumbled with. Roughly her pants were yanked off her legs, exposing her white cotton panties. Faintly she heard a whispered argument and nearly opened her brown eyes. Then she felt warm, thin hands tug on her dirty shirts rim, lightly dragging it over her head. Giving no resistance she sobbed quietly as it was gently wrestled off her. Her hands were let go of but she didn't move. She was going to die, that's all there was to it. Why struggle?
Vaguely there was a warm silky weight on her body, pressed against her, light touches fluttering over her sensitive nerves. Choking a scream Charley wrenched her head to the side as fingertips danced on her cheeks.
"Charley, listen," Nothing's voice breathed into her ear softly. "I know someone who might help you. We will take you to him tomorrow night. But we're hungry, very hungry. We'll help you, but we need you to feed us. Trust me, we won't hurt you too badly"
"Wha-whatever it takes," Charley choked in weak resignation, not even thinking about it. It seemed to have become her mantra. A light chuckle tickled her hair near her ears. Gentle kisses were placed upon her jaw line to her chin. Finally Nothing pressed a shy kiss as he easily unhooked her bra.

(Dirty scene here. Email me for full version)

The night passed away slowly, the vampires feeding off the drugged girl and pleasuring her delicately. She kept enough wits about her to insist on no total sex and they eventually gave in. Charley fell asleep near five the next morning, pressed tightly between Twig and Nothing's nude bodies, the older vampire slinging an arm over her waist and hugging her to him, sucking on a light wound in her throat, Nothing licking a red crescent above her nipple. Molochai lay against Nothing, his hand playing in the boy's black hair and on his shoulders. They all drifted away on the green river of Chartreuse, soothing and fiery.