Prologue.

  “What’s my name?” Samantha asked as she pulled off her Metallica T-shirt and got out of her cut-off short shorts down to just her white cotton panties.

  “You’re a servant of the Dark one,” the woman said, smiling “He will be pleased with you. You’ll have your name in the next life, when you return as a glorious creature of the night,” the woman tilted Samantha’s chin up and gave her a deep kiss, “What you do here will show your true commitment,” the woman licked her lips.

  Samantha slipped into her fine white sundress and looked with lust to the woman, “Fuck Christ,” Samantha said, running her hands down her body to straighten the dress “What about him?” she asked, turning to the nervous and pacing man at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Don’t worry about him,” the woman said, leaning into her to whisper in her ear, “He’s just a tool, and a useful one,” she said pulling out a knife. She took a slow sensual step into the kitchen handing the knife to the man, “You know the words, right?” she asked.

  “Of course, my mistress,” the man said as he took the blade from her. He turned his hand up and brought the knife to it, slicing his palm open. He winced at the pain. He was still mortal, still had the concerns of pain that being a mortal brought him. But with the reward he would soon be given, a little pain was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

  The woman went back to Samantha, “Oh, my child of the night, what you do here will give you a great reward, we have to tell the humans, and you’re a vessel for our message,” she said, caressing her face.

  “Hail the Dark One,” Samantha said to the first person who had given her a home since her lame born again Christian parents kicked her out.

  Samantha modeled the white dress for her elders, as the man painted the message on the house's wall. “I love the dress, mortals see white as purity, I love the chance to corrupt that image, no one is pure in this world,” She said.

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  “That’s correct,” the woman went to her purse and took her tools out. A hammer and two steel stakes. She rested her tools on a table by the wall, then went back to her purse for the syringe.

  “I’m giving you a great honor, I hope you know,” the woman said as she brought the needle to her arm and extracted some of her blood. She brought the syringe to a wine glass and injected it into the glass, ready to be imbibed.

  “The sacrament, am I worthy?” Samantha asked, sliding down the stairs with a dreamy look in her eyes.

  “Not yet,” the woman said, “To experience pleasure, you must give the Covenant pain,” she said.

  “I’m ready, whatever you ask of me mistress,” Samantha said, smiling with all the joy a sycophant had with one who could show them true power and glory.

  The woman came to her, took her hand, gently led her to the wall of the foyer. She put her hand up, stretching it out, “Stay there,” she said as she took her tools, a hammer and stake. “Be strong,” she said as she put the stake to her hand, “Be strong for the Dark One, remember that this is for his glory,” she said.

  Samantha nodded, “I’m ready,” she said, closing her eyes, getting ready, “Make me beautiful,” she said.

  The woman bashed the stake, stapling Samantha’s hand to the wall. She screamed, as was to be expected. The woman rushed to muffle her screams, “You’re becoming beautiful, beautiful for the Dark One,” she said as Samantha bit her lip, trying to fight off the pain as the woman set up the other stake, extending Samantha’s other arm. She was breathing hard, fighting her pain, this was for the glory of the Dark One. The only force in this life that had ever showed her true acceptance.

  The Woman staked her other hand to the wall, the pain shot through Samantha, in a way it was a rush, almost orgasmic.

  “He will rend this world,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, he will,” the woman said as she raised the wine glass to Samantha’s mouth. She opened her lips, ready to take the sacrament. The woman poured int in her and then tossed the wine glass aside. “Are you ready?” she asked.

  “Yes, my mistress, I am ready to show his glory,” Samantha said.

  The woman opened her mouth, barred her fangs, she ran her hands up Samantha’s white dress and leaned in towards her neck, biting her flesh, puncturing her jugular as she began to feed, holding her helpless prey against the wall as she drained her blood.

  Dimestorepublishing.com Presents

  The Depraved Covenant

  (The Occult Crimes Unit, Book 1)

  Robert C. Gemmell