"Night on Pandemonia", by Bloodwitch Luz Oscuria

This is the third excerpt from my novel, "Night on Pandemonia", in its version translated by Saleem Rustom.

Anomaly and Bloodwitch spent their entire night hunting mortals together. Bloodwitch was not at all hungry when she set out to return home from her night at the Phoenix. But the blood of her own guard on her dagger had aroused her appetite. She had retained a rancid taste in her mouth from cleaning her blade.

Indeed, Troll’s blood wasn’t the one she craved the most. And the guard was precisely one. Either way, she would have preferred it had been an Elf guard who made the mistake of hitting his host. Their blood was much more appetizing than that of Trolls.

She gave herself the privilege of being the first to eat that night. It was a young woman which Anomaly had grabbed before graciously giving it to the one who gave him back his freedom. When Bloodwitch’s fangs left the victim’s neck, the inert body no longer contained a single drop of blood. Bloodwitch had completely drained it. Especially appreciating the moment when the young woman expired for the last time. The two Vampires felt invincible. They hunted their prey in all possible and imaginable ways, multiplying originalities.

The funniest moment for Bloodwitch was when this very old man thought he finally had the chance to put a wench in his bed. Something which had not happened to him for at least twenty years. He was quickly disillusioned when Bloodwitch started scratching his chest so deeply that blood flowed profusely from each of his wounds.

The man had pushed back his assailant with all the strength he had at his disposal. Rather sketchy however, in view of its advanced age. Bloodwitch had fallen out of bed anyway, but got up just as quickly before pouncing on him again. Anomaly remained outside. He watched with great interest the way what Bloodwitch was doing through the bedroom window. He would not have liked to be in the place of the old man, who died after a slow agony. There were dozens of scratches and bites on his body. Bloodwitch clearly didn’t go dead handed.

When she joined her host outside, all her clothes were covered with blood. She was wearing a beautiful light blue corset that evening. It had turned purple. Her cloak was shining. It had soaked so much in the pool of hemoglobin in which the old man’s body drowned. And even her eternal pendant, representing a naked woman with a pair of wings on her back, was unrecognizable so much it had dragged into the bowels of her victim.

Anomaly admired the Governor of Pandemonia. Stregoïka and Kurushimi had never spoken to him about her. So he discovered what she was through the adventures he had with her. A true lawless vampire. Without pity or feeling.

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