Free The Vampire's Heart by Cochin Breaker

on my body. This is not right. He opens my legs. This is not right. I open my eyes, he is untying his breeches and pulling them down he exposes his erect, yet small, penis.
    He moves forwards, kneeling between my legs. He takes my arms and holds them at the wrists above my head, putting all of his significant weight on them. It hurts. He enters me, thrusting slowly. His hanging stomach rubs against mine. He will not live to regret this.
    I draw in every ounce of magic left in me, taking it from my surroundings, every grain of sand, every rock, the ocean, and even from him. I’ll need all the power I can muster to manage this. I cast my magic, but he’s too lost in the moment to realise what’s happening straight away.
    My bones crack and reshape, my skin darkens and fur grows to cover my body. My muscles alter and reform and I flex my claws as they slide out from what was once my fingers. The man has stopped now, and adamant fear emanates from him. He has realised his mistake.
    Now that I’m stronger than him I rip my front legs free from his grip and rake a set of claws across his chest. He screams and falls back onto the sand, half naked and trying to wriggle away.
    I right myself and pad over to him. I lash out again and again, claws cleaving flesh and jaws tearing it free from its moorings to the bone. As I continue to feast on the bastard that thought I was defenceless I notice that people are approaching, very cautiously. I mean them no harm, but they do not know that.
    Well within a mid-hour there are at least thirty people stood on the beach watching me pick the flesh from the bones of my rapist. Many of the men watching are brandishing weapons; swords and knives, some wield nothing more than big sticks. I can feel their fear of me. After all, why would a thought to be extinct panther be on their beach? I show them why, letting the magic return me to my natural form, I fall to the ground and retch up my meal; my human stomach is not capable of processing so much raw flesh and blood.
    Now they will see me for the victim I am; a victim of rape, a victim of the gods, and a victim of the Calcians. I am just a witch and I pose no threat to them.
    That said, I will be a victim no more.
    I see the shadow of a person come to stand over me. I look up and pain suddenly spears through my neck and head, and that familiar blackness comes to me again.
     
    ***
     
    I come to consciousness with a terrible crash. My head feels like it has split open. My face is painful and heavily swollen, and my arms and legs are bound to a post behind me. I’m upright, above a crowd which is milling, waiting. What is happening? A young and dirty boy in the crowd looks up at me and points a chubby finger in my direction.
    “ The vampire is awake!”
    His call brings the attention of many of the others to me. What does he mean by vampire? What are they talking about? I’m no vampire.
    A tubby man wearing relatively fine clothes steps up to the head of the crowd; he’s probably their leader. From my vantage point I can’t help but stare at the bald spot on the top of his head, which he has tried to hide by dragging over the hair from either side. He speaks with an air of importance, obviously imbued by years of esteemed leadership and pampering. I cannot help but feel that he is a weak fool who knows nothing. I will kill him. And I will make it slow and painful. No gods will be able to interfere. They do too much meddling in the affairs of mortals as it is.
    “ The village has found it to be true that you are the vampire that has been terrorizing our lands. Your demonic ways offend the great goddess Calcia, and you will be burned at the stake for your crimes against her.”
    “ I’m not a vampire you son of a whore, I’m a witch!” I shout down at the balding fellow, whom just shakes his head, and continues speaking, ignorant of my truth.
    “ May Calcia have mercy on your soul in Heaven and Samael take your mind to the pits of Abadon,