by C. Ikpoh
"Shhh! Don't scream, cher. Dis what ya wanted, yea?"
Remy's Cajun accent, once intoxicating, was now mortifying. Sophia's lusts, her desires, all were mutilated by the supernatural force Remy held her with. His body was pressed tightly against hers as he embraced her from behind. She could feel Remy's muscular physique clench tightly, not allowing her to move an inch. His left arm was wrapped around Sophia's torso. His right draped over her shoulder with the palm of his hand cupping her jaw line; fingers extended across her face as he tilted her head slightly to the side, exposing her jugular. Remy traced the sharp nail of his index finger across her cheek in a condescending, yet, soothing fashion. He was gently letting Sophia know she was going to die.
"So dere no need for da tears, mon amie. Ya asked me for dis, remembuh?"
"Let me go, Remy!" Sophia demanded.
Remy chuckled. He was genuinely humored. As he did, the Cajun's smile revealed instruments of death - a mouth full of protruding, razor-edged teeth. Forcefully, Remy sank the tip of his nail into Sophia's skin, sending streaks of crimson down her face. The acute pain paralyzed her, leaving her without resistance and shivering in his arms. The feeling of Sophia's supple, shapely body vibrating against his, combined with the sight and scent of fresh blood, was more than enough to catapult Remy's animalistic hunger beyond the point of control. The end was at hand.
"I sure gon' miss ya, petite. Maybay we meet in da afterlife." With a swift jerk, Remy tilted her head to the side as far as her body would allow. Then, just before he ravaged her neck, he continued, "And when ya get dere, tell dem Remy sent ya."
With that, Remy sank his teeth into Sophia. Clenching his mandible ever so tightly, he secured a furious hold on her. Inhaling her life force, not a single drop escaped his lips. Sophia's limbs violently thrashed about. She would not go easily. Nevertheless, her neck and head remained motionless, allowing Remy to feed uninterrupted. It was not long before her fight gave way to acceptance. Sophia's body was to be drained. Remy was to have his fill.
And so it ended. Under the hunter's moonlight of the bayou, nature's perfect killer assumed another victim. Everything was in balance. Remy offered her body as sustenance for the swamp, feeding her to the gators. "Here ya go, fellas. She mightay tastay. Bon appetite," he said as he slid Sophia into her liquid grave. As they thrashed about in the water, Remy laid back in his boat with his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky. The mosquitoes circled about, seemingly praising Remy with dances of worship. The sound of the gators ripping her body limb-from-limb was music to the Cajun's ears. He reveled in it. But not just that, Remy reveled in his new existence as well. He was a vampire now, and no one could take that from him.
The remnants of dusk's lavender sky draped over New Orleans with elegance as it dissipated into a deep violet hue. Its air fed the affluence beneath it mingling in the grand courtyard. The bourgeois was active, engaging in all sorts of elitism. Yet, amidst the crowd was a yearning for some truth. Amidst the sycophants and opportunists, there was a deep, subconscious desire for an individual who was worthy to be amongst them but was not of them. This feeling was evident in the woman of the hour. She juggled alike thoughts in her mind all evening. "My Creole servitude, though gorgeous, lacks the proper genetic lineage to fraternize with tonight," she contemplated. Despite racial acceptance being a prominent issue of the time, many private nights had been spent with a particular type: those Creole men whose skin and eyes were light enough to have them seen in public side-by-side with any wealthy individual as their servant. No, she did not discriminate when it came to satisfying her carnal impulses, and upon pondering such things, she began to form a scheme with her regular sexual slave, such as what room to order him to so they may share a quick encounter. It was then her plotting was interrupted.
"Sophia, are you alright, suga?" her friend, Belle, inquired while noticing Sophia's pensive look.
After a pause, Sophia gathered her thoughts, smiled and answered, "Right as the rain. I just..." Instantly, her attention was drawn across the courtyard. A tall, fit gentleman was moving through the crowd. It appeared as if he was walking on air; there was a magical aura about him. The cores of his eyes were glowing with a magnificent hue. "Fire," Sophia said aloud as their gazes met. His were the color of auburn and hazel. They captivated Sophia, and everything behind them, all they were a mirror for, immediately enthralled her entire being.
"Fire? What ARE you mumbling about?" Sophia's friend asked. It was not long before Belle traced her line of sight to the gentleman. "Hmm..." she hummed in a familiar tone as she sipped her champagne.
Sophia refused to waver in her stare. Her blood pumped vigorously through her feminine physique as she contemplated, "I wouldn't mind letting him ravage my body." As she pondered such lust filled desires, it was then she noticed Belle's familiarity in her groaning. "You know this man?" she queried.
Belle, while also still staring at the gentleman, answered, "But of course. That, Sophia, is Remy Louviere. He’s the newest money in New Orleans. Just docked about a month or two ago."
"Is that so?" Sophia said excitedly. "I would have never of guessed it. He looks so..."
Before Sophia could finish, Belle interjected, "Rough?" They both turned their heads slightly and giggled for a moment, trying to hide their juvenile admiration. Unbeknownst to them, Remy heard each word and expression. The more they tried to hide it, the more he was drawn to them. As he made his way over, Sophia's friend continued, "It is rumored his mother was a slattern in the Quarter, and his father's family is of the wealthiest land owners in the South of France. Truth be told, honey, no one knows. He just showed up in New Orleans one day buying up substantial properties."
Sophia's face scrunched with a slight expression of disbelief. "His manner appears as if he were born and raised in the swamps."
"Bayou or not, his pocket book could most likely waltz everyone else's here into a stupor," Belle replied.
Sophia's intrigue was beyond peaked. "A wealthy man with a Cajun’s soul, I do declare," she hurriedly stated just before Remy approached them.
His tuxedo was finely tailored. It fell graciously over his chiseled, athletic frame. Tall with dark features and a magical fire in his eyes, he smiled revealing pearl colored teeth that almost seemed too perfect to be real. With his thick, Cajun accent, he began charming Sophia. "Pardun me, but I notice ya noticing me, and dere but one ting no man gon' refuse, and dats da eyes of true beauty."
"Well, I'll leave you two alone, suga," Belle said as she walked away.
Sophia lightly brushed a strand of her black hair behind her ear before replying, "You are Remy Louviere if I am not mistaken."
Smiling even more he replied, "In da flesh, mon amie. My reputashon precede me, yea?"
"That it does, Mr. Louviere. That it does," Sophia answered while displaying her immediate attraction. She coursed her eyes over his stature, admiring the quality of his attire and the shapely size of his manhood. Once her analysis of Remy's physique was complete, she slowly stood to allow him the chance to admire her buttermilk skin that adorned the impeccable frame she possessed. Sophia's dress was as blue as the summer's sky. It hugged every curve of her ample, but not overwhelming, bust line before contouring down towards her thin torso and slim waist. His eyes did not hide his pleasure at the sight. "They are glowing," Sophia thought to herself as she noticed a bright increase in their color.
"It da fiyah of passhon in my eyes, cher. You bring dis out in Remy," he spoke upon listening to her thoughts.
Sophia was dumbfounded. She could not decide if it were voodoo or some level of fate that allowed them such a connection. Nevertheless, the mystery only sharpened her attraction and her lust. She inched closer to Remy so they could intertwine personal space. Remy, recognizing this, did not move an inch. He welcomed her into him. This opened Sophia to his essence, and she drank of it wholly, becoming intoxicated by his presence. Her heart rate rose and her mouth became parched, resulting in her licking her lips in an attempt to keep their moist appearance. Remy knew all too well what was occurring. He had won his prize.
As Sophia engorged her senses with Remy's aura, they were approached by a servant. Absolutely not wanting to be disturbed, she motioned with her eyes for him to leave. However, the Creole man was unaware of her signal. Proceeding to Remy's back shoulder, the servant asked in perfect Southern English, "Champagne, sir?"
Visibly annoyed, Sophia interjected, "Run along. We have no need for your servitude at this moment."
In a moment's flash, it was Remy who became visibly annoyed. Not with the servant though, but with Sophia. He disapproved of her brash dismissal of the Creole man. Noticing this, Sophia instantly changed her mood. She no longer appeared vexed but perplexed. Remy's sympathy for the servant was as uncommon in those parts as the sun rising in the west. Quickly glancing at the servant in confusion, Sophia looked back at Remy as he began to address her. "*Tisk tisk* No need to be mean, no?" Slowly, Remy turned to the Creole man and said, "I plan on drinkin' latuh. Don't wanna have too much befoe den. Thank you doe."
While being replied to, the servant caught a reflection of the lights in the courtyard off of Remy's eyes. The glare shone bright, displaying the eternal flame that burned in Remy. This frightened the Creole man, causing him to fumble his silver tray and almost topple the champagne flutes. He did not know who Remy was. Rather, he knew what Remy was: the being that haunted his people for ages. With no hint of the proper Southern English he previously displayed, the servant murmured in a pure Creole dialect, "Bon-Dyé-God!"
Amused, Remy said with a slight smile, "Indeed."
The servant remembered the tales of spirits walking in the flesh, imitating mortal humans, and drinking the blood of the living to obtain their essence and extend their ability to stay in this plane of existence. Knowing Remy had the power to hear his thoughts, the servant slightly lowered his head towards the ground, looked at Remy and said to himself silently, "Vampiro?" Remy heard the Creole man's pondering and simply winked in return, relaying his appreciation to the servant for not revealing his true nature to Sophia or anyone else in the grand courtyard. The corner of the Creole man's mouth curled up. He was delighted for he knew his master's fate. He was delighted as well because Sophia had not an inclination her death was at hand. All the nights her Creole servitude were subjected to tireless, impossible tasks of her whimsical nature, all the nights of her objectifying them to her sexual desires, they were all about to cease. Remy translated these thoughts with his powers. Through unspoken words, he addressed the servant by name, "Yo welcome, Jean. Tell da udduhs. Dey escape wit you tonight. Savvy?"
"Wi," Jean replied with his inner voice.
Remy placed his hand on the servant’s shoulder. It was a gesture of mercy. He was sparing Jean and the other servants because of the suffering and oppression they had experienced at the hands of Sophia. Then, Remy added with his psychic ability, "Now, you mus' excuse me fo' dis." To appear as if he were assuming a position of power over Jean in order to erase Sophia's bewilderment, Remy said, "C'est tout." The servant, understanding Remy's Cajun French, began to slowly depart with his head still bowed.
Sophia's emotion returned to jovial and flirtatious once she heard Remy dismiss the Creole man. Compiling to Jean's dismissal, Sophia rubbed on Remy's chest and arms while blurting out, "Go on now. No need to linger. Mr. Louviere must return to courting the lady of the hour."
The servant lowered his head more to hide his disdain for Sophia. "Yes, Miss Sophia," he replied aloud. While turning away, Jean sent Remy one more message in his mind. "Make her suffer."
Unbeknownst to Jean, Remy also possessed the ability to connect with spirits of the afterlife. Relaying a message from Jean's aunt who passed not too long before that night, and was watching over her nephew, Remy psychically relayed, "Yo auntie, Roza, want ya to kno' she raise ya bettuh dan dat." Jean paused momentarily. He was taken aback by hearing his ancestor's scolding from beyond the grave. Nevertheless, he smiled and continued to walk away satisfied.
Turning Remy back towards her, Sophia declared flirtatiously, "I think it's about time you and I sought some privacy, Mr. Louviere."
"Call me Remy," he replied, extending his bent arm as an invitation for Sophia to link hers together with his. Without hesitation she did just that, and the two made their way through the crowd purposefully. Many guests thanked Sophia for the invite as the two made their exit, complimenting Sophia on the wondrous gala she was hosting. Some simply nodded to pay their respects to the host. Others, meanwhile, looked on in extreme curiosity as to whom the tall, captivating gentlemen was. Whatever their reasons were, all eyes were on the new couple.
Finally, just before Remy and Sophia exited the party, they came across Belle and a group of Sophia's other female acquaintances. Witnessing the two arm-in-arm, Belle commented, "I see the introduction went quite well."
Momentarily stopping, Sophia glanced at her friends and said with a smile, "As well as a lady could hope for." Her friends all giggled like little school girls, excited at the prospect of hearing Sophia's lust-filled story upon her return. It was then the mood changed from gleeful to serious, however, as Sophia remembered how Jean bothered her and Remy earlier upon seeing him across the courtyard. She stated to Belle, "Remind me to have Jean flogged when I return. The insolent slave interrupted us quite rudely."
Remy held back his feeling of disapproval, a feat difficult to handle at the moment. Not only had he grown tired of Sophia's ignorance and cruelty, but he also was heavily anticipating the taste of her blood. This exasperated him; very little patience remained in his body. Belle's voice disturbed Remy's anxiety when she said, "Go on now, darling. You can worry yourself with the colored folk later. You don't want to spoil the mood."
Looking up at Remy, Sophia stared with a carnal anticipation for him to lead the way. He nodded his head to Sophia's friends and said, "Ladies, it been a pleazuh," while exiting into the Spanish moss trees that elegantly draped over the grand courtyard's entrance.
Once beyond the gates of her estate, Sophia began to familiarize herself with Remy's anatomy. She grew more attached to his side, periodically brushing her bust against his body as she leaned towards him for each laugh they shared. Her hands roamed his arms, shoulders and torso every moment they spent stopped along the river. Remy knew her intentions. He knew her style of seduction as well. Though it repulsed him, the lust for her blood that burned inside his body was greater. Remy played along with Sophia's manipulations. He ensured she would be his by the end of their walk. Minutes passed, and before Sophia knew, they had traveled quite a ways from her estate. Remy was successful. She was a sizable distance departed from her home. Sophia had nowhere to run. All that was left was to finish her.
"My. Exactly WHERE have we traveled to?" Sophia facetiously asked as she directed her attention from Remy to her surroundings.
Remy replied, "Ya not kno' yo own backyard, cher?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Remy. Of course I do. But this is not it. We must have walked quite a ways. I guess we were just lost in one another."
Her suitor's reaction was not as warm and attentive as it were in the grand courtyard. Remy was exasperated with the charade. He wanted to exsanguinate her, nothing more, and it was time for him to collect.
"Come. Ya no look so well. Maybay da bayou not yo cup of tea. I take ya back home." As Remy spoke, he headed over to a luxurious, pearl colored boat tied to a small dock hidden in the draping branches of the Spanish moss trees that blanketed the area. Sophia smiled upon the sight. She believed Remy to have planned their walk there as a means of impressing her with a quaint ride in his plush, fancy boat. But as she approached it, Sophia grew hesitant. Something made her proceed with caution. Remy sensed her brief trepidation and said, "No worries, petite. Ain't no gris gris gon' happen. It just a boat." His smile, combined with the soothing nature of his voice, lulled Sophia into compliance. She gently maneuvered her way onto Remy's boat with his help, and before she knew it, they were floating along the river through the bayou.
Sitting on opposite benches facing one other, Remy locked eyes with Sophia. The moonlight shone perfectly upon them, flickering diamonds in the water as Remy's paddles rippled through the river. Sophia's blood began raging as she anticipated the physical pleasure she yearned for. Sensing her hormonal rise, Remy said, "Why ya all da way over dere? I won't bite ya kno'." As Sophia welcomed his invitation, he spread his legs apart and patted the area of the bench between his body and the edge. Slowly, she turned, flipped her hair over her shoulder while seductively looking back at Remy, and slid her bottom down over his crotch and onto the bench. There was no space between them anymore. No space for Sophia to run to.
As Remy placed the paddles down, he moved his hands up Sophia's arms. Gently, he traced his fingertips over her shoulders and down towards her cleavage before quickly moving them back to her shoulders. Remy then leaned in and softly traced his nose through her dark hair, and when he reached her neck, placed his lips next to her skin. He was teasing her senses and she loved it.
Sophia reached behind her and grabbed Remy's hand, wrapping it around her waist at first, and then moving his hand down to her warm thighs as she hiked up her dress. Simultaneously, Remy slid his fingers over Sophia's shoulder and underneath her chin, rolling each fingertip off her neck in short strokes. Without hesitation, Sophia turned her torso to meet Remy. Eyes closed, their lips pressed together for a precious moment. Sophia inhaled deeply almost immediately. She was overrun with lust and desire. Remy's lips massaged hers unlike any other that she had kissed. She was convinced she met her soul mate. "It is him. He is the one! I can die a happy woman having discovered true love," Sophia thought to herself.
"I don't kno' 'bout happy, cher. But ya right 'bout one ting. You gonna die." Remy read Sophia's thoughts as they kissed, and could not resist the opportunity to reveal his true self.
After an awkward pause, Sophia removed Remy's hand from her thighs and pensively replied with a nervous chuckle, "I beg your pardon?" In a flash, Remy seized Sophia from behind into his death grip. The supernatural speed in which Remy moved and the power he possessed, all alarmed Sophia beyond belief. "Wha... what in God's name are you doing? Release me at once!" She squirmed about exclaiming he unhand her.
Remy laughed at the sound of Sophia's demands. His cackle echoed off the bayou, reverberating through the night sky. It sounded as if all the spirits from the other realm were wickedly laughing in unison. "You tink you can order me heyuh? In da bayou? Dis my home, babay, and you ain't welcome!"
Sophia was flabbergasted. She never could have anticipated the change of events that came to pass. Furiously trying to free herself, Sophia continued to murmur between grunts and inhalations, "Let - me - go!"
"I let ya go alright. I release ya from yo misery heyuh real quick. No mo’ need fo' anyone to suffuh yo ignorance," Remy declared with every ounce of animosity for Sophia that built inside of him throughout the night.
Sophia, livid, retorted, "You good for nothing swamp rat, I hate you!" Every ounce of anger for Remy that built inside of her in those moments was injected into her declaration.
Convinced at a realization upon processing her words, Remy retorted, "Nooooo, mon amie. Ya fear me, yea?"
Indignant, she reiterated her sentiments. Remy jerked Sophia close to ensure she understood the unflappable truth he was about to bestow upon her. As he did, Sophia became frozen in anticipation of his next action. Remy gazed deep into her eyes; fire igniting the color in his and her soul through hers. He opened his mouth, perfectly accentuating the Cajun accent oozing from his words, "It fear dat ya hold in yo heart. How I kno? Cuz I love fear, not hate, and at dis moment, cher, Remy in love."
He was correct. Fear riddled every fiber in Sophia's body. There was no hope. No one could save her. Everything she had -- her estate, her wealth, her vast amounts of luxuries and possessions -- all were about to be lost. The life she led as a revered socialite in the New Orleans bourgeois, admired by all women and adored by all men, had ran its course. The reality she was to meet her end in the swamps only added insult to her imminent demise. There would be no proper funeral, no grand send-off by her peers. There would be no one to mourn her, for it was certain her body would never be found. All she would become was a memory. Sophia's tomb in the family mausoleum next to her ancestors would forever remain empty. She would be virtually erased from the history books, remembered only by a blank "date of death" space next to her birth date. A question mark would be all that was left to detail her story. Sophia had met her greatest fear, and it was not death. Yes, she was afraid to die. However, what mortified her was being worth nothing, and dying in the manner she was about to, her legacy and name would most certainly amount to such.
Each of these realizations rushed Sophia's consciousness. They flooded her mind, sending her fear into a state of frenzy. She screamed with all her might, flexing her lungs until not an ounce of air remained. As Sophia cried, she gathered her breath and rhetorically inquired, "What are you going to do to me?"
Remy was reveling in the moment. With his poignant wit and Cajun charm, he answered, "Why, Sophia, I tought ya would kno' by now. Imma do what ya first said ya want me to do when ya see me in da courtyard." Sophia processed her memories of that night trying to solve Remy's riddle. Suddenly, it hit her. Remy was going to ravage her body. Terrified, she screamed and thrashed about even more. Tears poured from her eyes as heavily as the river beneath them. Full of delight, knowing victory and satisfaction were at hand, Remy told Sophia, "Shhh! Don't scream, cher. Dis what ya wanted, yea?"