By L. Crystal Michallet-Romero
Copyright © L. Crystal Michallet-Romero
All Rights Reserved
since taken the story, blown off the dust, removed the cobwebs and revamped it for the year 2002.
Disclaimers: One isn't needed since the characters and story are my creation. The original story was registered and
copyrighted under my legal name in 1993, so I am not stepping on anyone's toes by using it.
Rated: NC17
Violence: Yes, you can't have a vampire story without violence.
Sexual Violence: Can you have a vampire initiation without sexual violence??
Subtext: Yes
Sexual Scenes: Oh yes!
This was the genesis for the longer vampire tale that is soon to be published into a novel. For the novel I changed the names
of the some of the characters, the situations and added more back story. To read the longer version: Sleep Comes Too Late.
At times Anecita Zaragoza felt as if she had outlived her contemporaries by eons. From the darkness of the night she had
been a witness to the rise and decline of dynasties. She had taken an active part in the conspiracies of governments. With
partisan allies, Anecita used her acquired skills to fight against tyranny. Once the battles were won, she allowed herself to sit
back and watch as mortal men were made kings, only to be overthrown years later by those who placed them into power.
In the beginning of her new life, Anecita felt a surge of exhilaration at a second chance for life. It was a life of no pain. A life
that she could lead in her own way and it was to be an everlasting life.
When her second life began, the sights were new and fresh. Anecita remembered the initial excitement she felt as she moved
through the shadows of the night. The events of governments were intriguing. The vampire always felt a deep fascination for
the developments of the mortals around her. Every name and place where she traveled was an endless adventure for her.
Despite her great adventures, Anecita had to admit that somewhere along her journey she had grown bored. The dark
woman began to notice the changes of the world as merely another phase in the wheel of time. With each new invention of
convenience, her interest sparked until a newer, better innovation was created. After a time, the change from candles to light
and from horses to cars seemed inevitable to the nightwalker.
By day, Anecita found refuge in the safety of her home. As she had for countless years, she laid in comfort and waited until
the setting of the sun. After so many years alive, she did not know if she dreamed or simply had memories of her life
replaying in her mind. At dusk, Anecita rose from her resting place in the customary manner. It had been this way for
countless years. The only thing that changed was the location of her home.
Like a traveling wanderer, she moved from countryside to mountain regions and onward toward those places she considered
exotic and appealing. After a time Anecita learned that every place she lived was all the same, more or less. Each time her
wandering feet grew tired, she would search for a home where she would be able to blend into the shadows and be unnoticed.
In the beginning, before she became doomed to live in the darkness of the night, she resided in her family’s estate in northern
Spain near the river Ebro. Anecita remembered the carefree days spent with her mother and father. As if the future was
something distant from her existence, she lived in the splendor of wealth.
The only daughter of a merchant, she had never needed or wanted for anything. Just like everything in the past, all she had to
do was ask and her father would provide it. As a child, she was never aware that her actions had a negative impact on
others. She only knew that her father loved her and would grant her anything her heart desired.
With an inward smile, Anecita thought back to the beginning of her existence. It never dawned on her that her father had
gained his wealth from the backs of the poor. She didn’t realize that had it not been for his treachery against the Gypsies, her
father would not have been able to own vast amounts of land. If he had not united the villagers into an angry mob to push the
“squatters” from the open land, then the Gypsy curse would never have fallen upon her shoulders.
Anecita was young and innocent in all ways. Her lips had never touched the lips of a man, let alone a woman’s. Yet on her
twentieth birthday, a date, which deemed her beyond that of an old maid, she was initiated into an existence she might not
have willingly chosen.
Although her last day as a mortal was permanently etched in Anecita’s mind, the actual turning was nothing more than a haze
filled dream. The dark one vaguely remembered her family gathered together in the great hall, the villagers voices rose until
the shouting began. Like her family, the men had taken the lands from the Gypsies. The fact that the usually nomadic tribe
had settled on the land first did not enter into the villagers mind. All they cared about was the acquisition of land, which led
them to evict what few Gypsies remained.
Angered that her father would contemplate such acts caused the normally timid woman to speak out, to shout down the men’
s cruel words. At her action, her father had grown silent, the anger in his eyes never wavered. Anecita knew that there was
nothing she could do to stop the atrocities, which her father would take part in.
With one final attempt, she turned to her father, begged him to leave the Gypsy clan alone. But it was to no avail. Like the
village people, he did not want to hear anything about fairness or justice. Angry and unable to stop their madness, Anecita
ran from her home. Not quiet knowing where she was going, she mounted her mare and rode away from the confines of the
people’s hatred.
The young Spanish woman tried to rid her mind of the guilt and shame. She attempted to ride until the madness slowly left.
After a while, Anecita remembered the exhilaration as her horse carried her over the green hills, her long black hair flowing
behind her. She felt the fabric of her tailor-made men’s breeches rubbing against her legs. The smell of the changing weather
remained etched in her mind as she deeply inhaled the scent of rain. The aroma of fresh rain always took her back to that day
long ago.
The young woman had managed to make it to an abandoned hut before the raging storm reached her. If she had listened to
the language of her horse she would have heeded her warning and taken shelter elsewhere. But she did not. In her youthful
exuberance she entered the dark shelter unaware of the cloaked figure hidden in the shadows.
To this day, Anecita did not know the identity of her first lover. It had happened so long ago that bits and pieces of her
memory were mingled into incoherent images. At the time the young woman could not have stated why she trusted the
strange Gypsy woman. All she knew was that a beautiful woman was also taking refuge from the storm. In the quiet solitude
of the night, as the thunder roared over the land and the lightning scorched the ground, the exotic woman took her to heights
of pleasure she had never before experienced.
The merchants daughter vaguely remembered hearing the jingling of golden bracelets as the beautiful Gypsy touched her
virginal body. Within the back of her mind Anecita felt that something was wrong. As soon as she felt the dark woman’s icy
touch against her bare flesh, the mortal woman felt an instinct to run. But instead of listening to her inner fears, she closed her
eyes and basked in the sensations of the Gypsy’s lips upon her breasts. When the dark lady smiled seductively, Anecita felt
her heart skip a beat, and then cried with ecstatic pleasure as she watched the exotic woman’s head dip between her
quivering legs. Like a maestro controlling her body, the dark Gypsy took away her final innocence and showed her how to
love another woman. With each shuddering climax, the merchant’s daughter thought she would die, but each time she lived to
feel further heights of pleasure.
Only when too exhausted to continue, did the strange Gypsy move over Anecita’s form. Panting from her pleasure, the
young, blue eyed girl only smiled as her older lover smiled down at her. At the slight flash of lightning, Anecita thought she
saw the dark lady cutting open a thin line of flesh on her nipple, but quickly dismissed it as the Gypsy took her breast and held
it over Anecita parted lips. Like a suckling babe, she took the woman’s fullness into her mouth. The initial taste of copper
spurred her thirst as the intoxicating liquid sent a burning red vision through her brain. The sound of her lover’s hiss registered
in the back of her mind as she drank to fullness.
