Sex and Murder Magazine

By Hal Kempka

Dante Devereaux gazed out the massive picture window of his suburban New Orleans mansion. The howling winds outside bent a century old magnolia to the point it might snap any moment.

He imagined the sound to be similar to how the arm and leg bones of the young prostitute he murdered earlier in the month had snapped after he'd barbequed her. The meat had been so moist and tender he'd gnawed into the bone, and had to pick the slivers from his palate.

The dinner bell rang, and he retired to the dining room. Ophelia, his maid, had anticipated the coming storm and prepared his favorite meal, French Quarter chili. She used the stew meat he'd cut from the same woman's belly.

Dante learned early on, the younger ones' bodies were sweeter and suppler than those of the older ladies of the night. The more experienced they were at plying their trade, the tougher and blander their meat became.

He considered himself a cut above the other vampires preying on visitors to New Orleans night clubs and back allies. Most limited themselves to only draining their victims' blood and leaving the corpses to rot. Dante prided himself on minimizing the waste of his victims through cannibalizing, thus leaving little evidence of his handiwork.

As the hall clock tolled nine times, Dante readied himself for another evening of fiendish revelry. His driver dropped him off at a club on Bourbon Street where he met a young woman he'd connected with in an online chat room.

“My dear Angie,” he said, handing her a snifter of Anisette, “you are much lovelier than you described yourself.”

“Why thank you, Mssr. Devereaux,” she replied, “and may I say you are much more handsome than I imagined.”

She sipped her drink, savoring its tart licorice flavor. They talked and laughed into the night, relaxed and enjoying each other's company.

Dante moved closer, and nuzzled the nape of her neck. The intoxicating scent of her perfume drove him crazy with desire and he struggled to contain himself from biting her neck right there in the club. It was past midnight when Dante suggested they return to his mansion.

She smiled wickedly. “Ooh, you are such a naughty boy. I may have to punish you.”

“My lovely Angie,” Dante replied, “I can't wait. Tell me what you intend to do.”

“Let's wait,” she whispered, “and let it be a surprise.”

Angie slung her large leather purse over her shoulder as they strolled to his car.

“Let me take that for you,” he said, reaching for her purse.

Instead, she locked her arm through his, and playfully replied, “Oh, no. I have toys for us to play with, and I want them to be a surprise.”

Upon returning to his mansion, Dante led her into the parlor. She excused herself to the bathroom, and returned a few minutes later wearing a black nightgown of crisscrossed leather straps exposing all but the most intimate parts of her body.

“Your beauty defies description,” he said, nearly breathlessly. He pointed to the bar, and continued, “Please pour us each a snifter of Cognac while I stoke the fire.

When they sat on the couch, Dante ran his hand along her slender leg, lingering on the softness of her inner thigh.

“My dearest Angie,” he whispered, “your scent is driving me crazy, and I want to fill you with passion you've never known.”

“Then, we shall finish our drink,” she whispered, “and drive each other insane with passion.”

Dante felt his face numb, and his eyes become gritty. The room began spinning, and he felt himself losing control of his movements. Angie said something, but he could only hear intermittent chunks.

Then, she dragged him to the table, and laid him on his back. He wanted to pull away and call out, but lay completely paralyzed.

Dante felt a dull burn deep in his chest. Angie leaned over slightly and gazed into his eyes. Through the drug-induced haze, he could make out her smiling face, and the glint of something in her hand.

The deep burning returned and Dante lost consciousness. He neither saw nor felt her remove his heart. Nor did he see her eyes roll back enraptured as she bit into it.

The next morning, Ophelia discovered Dante's remains and called the police. After an extensive investigation, they closed the case.

The crime remained unsolved, as had similar homicides of suspected vampires. All the police knew was, whenever this happened, other slayings and missing persons reports temporarily declined.










































Text