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Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez


Ranger Princess

Ranger Princess

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Lights flashed all over the arena. The crowd roared as a rolling chant of "Moonbeam! Moonbeam! Moonbeam!" echoed against the walls like a low rumbling wave. That was what Marisa heard all around her as she stood atop the turnbuckle, raising her arms in triumph and pumping her fist for the crowd. They absolutely loved her, and Marisa knew it as she glowered down at her groggy prey beginning to stagger to her feet. Marisa knew what the crowd wanted next. The
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of course! With one more fist pump and a cry to the heavens, Marisa dragged her finger across her throat just as she went hurtling through the air toward the oblivious blonde beneath her. She flew through the air like a falcon, latching onto the poor girl's shoulders with her talons just before spinning the fuck around and slamming the girl on the mat with her feet!

Not giving her opponent anytime to recover, Marisa pounced like a wildcat. She slipped her arm beneath the blonde's denim-clad thigh, pulling up her leg as she pinned her to the ground. The referee was already there ready for the count, but everyone knew that wasn't really necessary. This poor blonde didn't even have a chance against the ferocious Moonbeam! The crowd roared with each count. "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

"Yeah!" Marisa cried as she sat up in bed covered in sweat. It was dark and quiet in her bedroom with only the light red glow of her clock saying 1:00am. It was all a dream... gah!
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Hmm... no... that actually happened, didn't it? Marisa thought to herself, sitting in the dark of her bedroom. Let's see... that match was... it was probably a couple weeks ago...?

Sometimes dreams just seemed so real it was hard to realize that the only place they'd ever happened was in your head. Other times the realization came slowly simply because you just wanted it to be true so bad. Both applied to her now - Marisa laid in her bed for ages, trying to puzzle out just when she'd earned that win... and when she finally cemented in her head that she hadn't, explored every "wasn't it" and "but didn't I" and realized that the answers were "no", she'd grown restless and frustrated - each step toward her realization an aggravating exercise towards a truth she didn't want.

"Fuuuck me..." she whispered in irritation, tossing violently to lie on her other side under her blanket, going back to sleep. She was already 24! She was in her physical prime now. If she couldn't land her big break soon... well... lucha libre was very demanding on the body. If she didn't get her big break soon, she might not have any years left to even have a career...

Unsurprisingly, her irritation and anxiety kept her from getting back to sleep. Marisa kept tossing and turning in her sheets, getting nowhere... until finally, she couldn't take it anymore, and threw off her covers in annoyance and got out of bed. "Goddammit," she muttered, and went over to her closet to throw on a grey hoodie and sweatpants - sleeping in just her undies was pretty handy like that - before bending down to pull out her workout mat from underneath her bed. Just laying there was getting her nowhere, after all - maybe if she worked up a good sweat and vented that frustration a little, she'd be able to get back to sleep and get back to sleep.

Reflexively giving a quick glance around the apartment when she came out, she headed to the door and up to the building's roof if nothing looked odd. Some of the night air and the view might do her good... even if the view was just of a night sky whose stars were blocked out by the city's smog and lights, and the night air was polluted with exhausts and gases.

Hmm... first up was crunches. Then she could stretch, then... well, then she could do whatever the hell she wanted.
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Getting to the top of the narrow and seldom used staircase, Marisa pushed right through the door with the sign saying AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. It's not like the sign had ever stopped her before. Besides, she never found any authorized personnel up on the roof anyway. She learned long ago that it was one of the best places to go in the city to get some ...relatively... fresh air and be alone at the same time.

Tonight, a relaxing cool breeze met Marisa as she stepped onto the roof of the building and closed the door behind her. The moon, full and luminous, hid behind a pair of puffy black clouds, but it poked beyond them just enough to show her it was there. Even though the city was anything but quiet at night - the taxi cabs never did really quit honking - Marisa still felt at home up there on top of the world. It might not have been the prettiest or the most peaceful place, but it was her home.

The aspiring luchadora had worked up a nice sweat with her work out, just starting her cool down routine when suddenly a blood curdling scream pierced the heavens, drowning out even the incessant taxi drivers! The scream was nearby, seeming to come from the alley to the side of Marisa's apartment building. Everything went silent for a few moments when the woman screamed again. Sometimes people would scream when they were horsing around, but this definitely did not seem like a playful scream.
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Halfway through her post-workout stretches, a horrible scream rent the air. "Jesus, what was that?" Marisa asked herself, getting up to run over to look over the side that it had come from. It'd most definitely come from the alley just next to the building...

She patted her pockets to check if she'd brought her phone - probably not, she usually plugged it in to charge when she went to sleep - but even if she did have it, it sounded like something bad was already happening. In a part of town like this, at this hour of the night, if the cops even bothered to show, whatever was happening down there was probably going to be over, and whatever criminal was doing it long gone!

Marisa hurried down the fire escape, calling 911 if she'd miraculously grabbed her phone from her nightstand. Hopefully, that bastard down below didn't have a gun... she might be able to escape by smashing through a window attached to the fire escape, but she'd be in real trouble if he was armed. She was good in a scrap, but wrestling was wrestling; a fight with a criminal was something else entirely. A brawl and a real fight were completely different beasts, and even though she was a good fighter and wrestler, if the other guy had a knife, or a bat, or a gun... oh Christo, she'd be in real deep shit.

She looked over the edge, trying to get a look at what was happening... and when she finally got to the ladder, she would slide down it and dropkick the rudo at the bottom!
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Sliding Dropkick! - Level 8 Difficulty Physical Action
Roll 1: 5 (fail)
Roll 2: 10 (success!)
Roll 3: 1 (botch! - cancels out 1 success...)
Result: Fail, sorry!

Just her luck, Marisa forgot to bring her phone with her. It looked like she was gonna be on her own, but she could see the culprit just beneath her. It was a creepy bald guy with overalls backing a sexy blonde woman into the wall just at the bottom of the fire escape. She looked totally terrified and was screaming like crazy, maybe even more than one might expect, as if she was revolted by the man himself. No time to ponder that though!

She knew just what to do, a sliding dropkick. That always worked in the movies, and even better, the culprit was right in line with the ladder. He'd be easy pickings. The latina bolted into action to take the creeper by surprise, dashing down the ladder, step by step until she was ready and slid right down to line up the drop kick to the head.... wait, he's not supposed to turn and see her at the last moment! The attacker whirled around, blocking and grabbing Marisa with ease then pounced her onto her back, pinning her to the ground with inhuman strength and cackling with glee. Even though the attack was disorienting, Marisa could still tell that this guy was one ugly fugler. His face was parched and scrunched up as if his skin was just covering for a skull, even his nose looked like someone smashed it and didn't bother fixing it. He had piercings everywhere, enormous ears, and a massive overbite with long fangs protruding from his mouth. And then there was the smell, he probably hadn't showered in 800 years!

"Nice try girly! Hahaha! Who taught you that move? Oh well... wow, you're even sexier than I thought... I'm gonna enjoy sucking all that lusciousness right outta you..."

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Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

"GYAA!" Marisa screamed when she got her first look at this rudo. "Jesus Christ, cabron, what happened to your face?!"

She couldn't help it. Even through the breathlessness, pain, and exploding stars that hit her when this scumbag suddenly whirled and slammed her onto the rough and trash-covered ground of the alley, the sight she saw was terrifying. He looked like a corpse! How did you get that disfigured?! And yet... he was so strong! He seemed stronger than anyone she'd ever known - how could his muscles work so well when they looked so decrepit!?

She wasn't sure what she meant about what he said next, but it sounded bad. She didn't want anything to do with this guy! She was on her back, so it would be hard to wiggle out of his pin... she brought her knee up hard. He was strong... but still, he was a man, and no man liked getting taught what the capital of Thailand was!

Well... unless he was a eunuch. But she didn't think he was...
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

The creature grinned widely, seeing Marisa's revulsion, folds of his flesh wrinkling and cracking as his lips pulled up at the corners.

"You like that huh little girl? Better get used to it cuz its what's gonna happen to your face when I get through with ya..."

He leaned even closer, relishing Marisa's response even more. Even when she kneed him in the groin - a surefire tactic if there ever was one - nothing happened! He just laughed. "HAHA! That's a good one. I'm afraid those bits stopped working ages ago... but just for you I could turn them on..." The nasty creature finished with a whisper, pushing his hips against Marisa and smiling with glee, reaching out toward her face with that slimy long tongue of his...

This was bad. Marisa was clearly overpowered and not even a knee to the groin would do the trick. It looked like there was nothing she could do to stop from being this monster's dinner... or worse. Just when it looked like she was doomed, though, the creature wailed in pain, flopping off of her and clutching his shoulder. He was up on his feet, staring off in the other direction at some timely intruder.

Sure enough, there was someone standing there. It was a man clad all in black. Not just his shirt and pants either, but a cape and a Spanish gaucho hat. He even had a black mask to cover his eyes. He didn't look happy either!

"I say foul creatue! In the name of the Prince, step back and unhand the maiden or face my wrath!" The masked man demanded, holding his rapier aloft at the glowering monster in a dueling stance.

The ugly man with the overalls just stared, clearly not amused by the masked man's antics. "You got no business with me Marauder. This is my turf, and ya better get off it if ya know what's good for ya."

"Your turf?" shot back the masked man, "Ha! A pretty dangerous thing to say on the territory of the Prince. How many traditions do you plan to break this night. You know what... besa mi culo, puto!"

Meanwhile, Marisa was free during this strange stand off, despite the pesky stars still fluttering about her head. The blonde woman, seemingly having fainted, was laying against the side of the building, but she was alive. Ugly creatures, masked men, and damsels in distress... was this some kind of strange dream or what??

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Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Oh God, it didn't work! So he was a eunuch or something?! But then... what did he mean by "turn it on"?! No - more importantly, what was she going to do if he really made good on his promise to make her look like him?! How would she ever fulfill her dream of becoming a luchadora then?! Would her lifelong dream really be torn from her, just like that, by this asshole!? She struggled even harder to get away, trying to headbutt his nose in the process.


Then, the ugly bastard shot off her screaming, and like an angel, she found a man behind him - and not just any man, but Zorro!

...Wait. Zorro?

Marauder?

Prince?

Was this some kind of dream?? Mmn... anytime she ever thought that, the world started to go fuzzy and collapse around her... and then she would wake up. And... the world was kind of fuzzy, but that was because she'd gotten slammed...

No... no time! There wasn't any time for her to start thinking this, right?!

As best she could, with the wind knocked out of her as it had been, Marisa rolled over onto her stomach, and then pushed up to bring herself back on to her feet - trying to keep herself steady. She didn't think she would be able to lay a finger on that freak... and even if she could, what would it help, if she couldn't hurt him? No...

"Who are you, amigo?" She asked, leaning against the wall and walking backwards to the blonde, who in trying to save she had almost joined in victimization. Rather than stay, she planned to pull that woman to her feet, and then stagger away out of the alley... perhaps see if she had a cellphone, in a purse, to call the police...
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

"Bah! I won't forget this," The monster responded to the Masked Man, glaring creepily at Marisa. "I'll make you mine someday. You just wait! HEHE!"

The monster cackled with glee as he made his timely escape into the sewers, where he apparently made his home.

As Marisa began to stagger away with the blonde woman in tow, it looked like the Masked Man wanted to give chase after the monster, to bring him to justice, but something kept him from giving chase. He lowered his shoulders and his head for a moment before slowly turning to look at Marisa as she walked away, those dark eyes beneath the black mask gazing into her own... just before he sprinted right at her!

He was already upon her in an instant. This man was so fast, Marisa could hardly believe her eyes. Before she knew it, he was in front of her. He grasped her with his arms, pulling her around and pressing his chest against her back. One arm held her around the waist firmly while the other tilted her head back against his shoulder, the poor blonde falling in a heap from the force of the move. Despite his body being covered in clothes and gloves, Marisa couldn't help but feel the coldness of her apparent savior's body as he loomed above her from behind. His lips brushed against Marisa's ear with an ever so tantalizing touch.

"Mmmm... such strength for one of staggering beauty. You have seen too much mi gatita. I'm afraid I cannot allow you to live."
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Marisa turned and spat on the ground when that freak made it's claim. Disgusting!

Before she got much further, though, the masked man set upon her, moving impossibly fast - practically a blur! She'd barely registered what he was doing before he was already grabbing her - the blonde tumbled to the ground as her supposed savior manhandled Marisa, spinning her around roughly before holding her. Why did he feel like he'd been in a freezer? And... and he did he just say he was going to kill her?!

"See- seeing what?! Was that thing's face not punishment enough!?"

Why oh why hadn't she stayed in bed. Had that scream attracted every lunatic in the city?!

"Perhaps you should find a new costume, amigo. Zorro would never take an innocent señorita's life."

The man in black was strong, and the hold she was in didn't offer much movement for Marisa's upper body, like when she'd been pinned... but, just like that time, too, her legs were free. She raised a foot to stomp her heel into the man's instep, and if she caught him by surprise, hopefully his grip would loosen enough for her to elbow him in his solar plexus - the spot just under the ribcage, in the middle of one's torso. A good blow there would knock the wind out of anyone! She didn't want to do so to the man, after he'd saved her... but... well, he was going to kill her! What choice did she have?
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Marisa was fast with her stomp, but the masked man was faster. He dodged, bouncing his foot to the side as if he was dancing. He whirled around, scooped Marisa up just off the ground and stretched her arm out with his, holding her by the waist with his other arm as if they were doing a tango.

"You are fast and feisty senorita. Just my kind of woman, haha!" He smiled, hauling Marisa around with him in the alley as he led the tango. "Not as fast as me I'm afraid, but you intrigue me."

His steps were quick and elegant, clearly an expert not just in fighting but also in dance. He went forward and backward, spun around, then dipped Marisa in his arms. His lips hovered just inches from Marisa's own, curly black hair flowing out of his bandanna.

"I do not know this Zorro of whom you speak, but as for me, I take... and take... and take some more! While that foul cretin that attacked you would do so to desecrate you, I do it to strengthen you. Your life is fragile and short. I can grant you so much more."

This time when the masked man smiled, he did not hide his long ivory white fangs. They grazed against Marisa's lip, gently pricking a drop of blood, he licked it up with the tip of his tongue. Marisa felt a wave of pleasure rush through her at the touch of his fangs. It should have hurt, but it felt really damn good! Meanwhile, everything had grown quiet around them, not even a peep or the drop of a pin, no sounds of sirens or blaring taxi cabs or wails of the night. Only the pair of them, Marisa's heartbeat and her breathing.

"Resist if you must senorita. Scream if you will. No one will hear you except me, exquisite as I am sure the sound is. I would of course prefer more pleasurable sounds, heh."
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Marisa had hoped the surprise of her attack would trump his speed, but it looked like she wasn't that lucky. She'd half-expected it, and meant to throw herself in the direction opposite his foot - but she hadn't thought he would recover quite[ that fast... however, she'd anticipated him whirling her into some sort of dance. She'd never really had one with a man before... it might almost be nice, if he hadn't told her he was going to kill her.

His lips were right there... what kind of rapist kissed their victims? Whatever - if he gave him an opening she would take it. Would his speed help him her teeth were right there? She could bite into his lip... dirty, but what was she to do? She was going to die!

And then he smiled, revealing monstrous, dagger-like teeth. "Mierda, what are those?!" she screamed. They sliced open her lip, and...

Nnngh... what... why... why did it feel so good?! She shuddered, involuntarily - she never would've given the bastardo the pleasure of feeling her reaction, given the choice.

"What... why do you toy with me, rudo?!" she spat. "Did you save me just to kill me yourself? Do you wish me to beg for my life? Sadist! Let me go!"

Fuck. She could win against her brothers when she tousled... but the one time her life depended on it, it turned out she was just a defenseless little girl. She hated that feeling. Hated it. And she hated him!
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

The man she called Zorro pressed Marisa closer as she shivered, holding her in the dancer's dip. Complain as she might, he didn't let go. After the slight nip to her lip, he groaned, eyes rolling under their lids in pleasure before refocusing and looking directly into her eyes.

"You'll have to forgive me señorita, for my need is great."

He pulled off his hat, holding it beneath Marisa's back to support her. His grip was firm but gentle like an overprotective lover. He knelt to one knee, fangs extending and lunged forward to Marisa's neck. As soon as those sharp fangs pierced her neck, Marisa's body went still, rocked by the force and surprise of the pleasure. It was like nothing she'd felt in her whole life, feeling so good that it was hard to think of anything else. She could feel her life being sucked out of her as the man clad in black sucked the blood from her neck like a delicate wine. It raced through her body and into his, giving him sustenance and strength while weakening her. Part of her in the back of her mind knew that she was losing blood, losing life, but her body refused to react except to squirm in pleasure.

Marisa was just to the point of nearly passing out when she vaguely felt the wrist of Zorro press on her lips and a cold, viscous liquid trickling into her mouth. The taste was strange.. almost repulsive at first, but the more she drank the better it tasted until eventually he pulled his wrist away. Her body wanted more but had naught the strength to fight for it. She felt his hand caressing her cheek and a soft kiss on her forehead was the last thing she felt before drifting away.

~~~~​

The next thing Marisa knew, she was awake, and she was hungry! The world was dark around her. She was standing but not of her on accord. It was like she was trapped upright in a coffin! It didn't matter where she was or how though. She just knew that she needed blood, and she needed it now!
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Surely this was a dream - or rather, a nightmare. How could this happen anywhere but? She could feel her consciousness fading, felt herself dying... and yet, it felt so good. She didn't think she'd ever have a wet dream about having her blood sucked out and dying... really, she couldn't think at all. If she could have, she would have knee'd her killer - struggled, pulled her lips away from his wrist and the disgusting crimson he would make her drink. But she didn't - and then unconsciousness overtook her.

---

When she came to, Marisa had no time to reflect on what had happened. She clutched her stomach in the tiny confines of whatever entombed her - it felt like she hadn't eaten in... forever! Putting her palms against the front of her box, she braced against the back with a foot and then shoved as hard as she could.


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Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

The darkness was oppressive and it felt like a really, really confined space around, but nothing was worse than the ungodly hunger Marisa felt in her belly. It was so bad, she couldn't think of anything else. It was like she hadn't eaten in weeks! Marisa pushed against the walls around her, light suddenly flooding around her as she toppled forward onto the ground. There was a rush of sound and lights around her, much louder and more vibrant than she was used to, but eventually things started to come into focus. She seemed to be in the Ancient Egypt section of the Art Museum and had just fought her way out of a sarcophagus!

Even worse.. or perhaps even better from the point of view of the beast inside her, Marisa could sense someone coming closer. It was a member of the night watch on security patrol. When he came around the corner, Marisa could see he was about her age with curly brown hair, and a speedy, thumping heart rate.

"Who's there... hey lady... I'm gonna have to ask you to... wait... what are you doing with the mummy?!"

Haha I love Bloodlines too. :)
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Marisa didn't bother to wonder how or why she was now here in an Art Museum - or, really, even bother to register where she was. All she knew and all she cared about was slaking that all-consuming thirst that dominated her thoughts... and, luckily, it seemed something that would solve her problem was coming towards her. She could hear it's beating heart, full of what she craved... It seemed to say something, but she didn't care - Marisa scarcely took the time to even stand, scrabbling against the sarcophaguses' cover for purchase as she tore towards the blood she so needed, leaping towards the man, Marisa's mouth open, the starving woman simply unable to wait to soothe the starving pangs eating at her being.
 
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Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

The poor security officer never stood a chance. Hearing the thump of his heart in her mind, Marisa could almost taste the blood before she even got there. The latina scrambled to her feet, running like a panther toward its prey. Marisa was already in the air before the security officer even moved, and all he could do was drop his flashlight to the ground. Just at the last moment before contact, Marisa could see the widening of his green eyes, filled with fear. Just as they did, something deep within her, some beast in the unknown depths of her soul, smiled with glee.

Marisa tore into his neck with her fangs, and it was then that she felt it... the exquisite rush of those dark ruby fluids into her mouth. It was like nothing she'd ever tasted or would ever taste again. That's what it felt like as she drank it down, guzzling, and sucking the blood like a martini on a summer day.

She hadn't even noticed the slowing beat of the man's heart when Marisa suddenly found herself yanked backwards and held in the strong arms of a dark curly haired man. He laughed and held her until she calmed down. Marisa may have been resentful at having to stop her feeding, but deep down she also felt a strong attraction to the man before her, as if there was a connection between them. It wasn't as if she couldn't resent him or even hate him, but even so, the inner attraction was something she was going to have to deal with.

"Haha! You are quite the feisty one señorita. Not that I blame you. It never will quite measure up to the first time. Forgive me for intruding on your feast, but we should not kill unless we have to. If you just lick the wound on his neck closed, no one will even know the difference."

The curly haired man then stopped and smiled, running his hand through his hair. "Where are my manners? Of course introductions are in order. Tis I, Don Juan Antonio Maria Cervantes, at your service. Perhaps you may better know me as the Marauder, or..." Don Juan rolled his eyes before continuing "Zorro.. if you must."

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Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

In the fractions of moments between when she launched herself at the man and when she slammed into him, she saw terror in him, and his terror made her feel powerful. Yes... this was no game, like she'd always played at before!

Her teeth in his neck granted her the incomparable rush of his hot red lifeblood on her tongue, and she sucked at the gushing wound greedily, breathing hard as she emptied his arteries. She reached behind his head and lifted, pulling his neck up even as she crushed her lips against him even harder, desperate for more of the stuff pouring down her throat, craving it as it satisfied her like nothing ever had before.

She fought against being removed from the man's neck hard, at first pushing at his arms, then against his chest as she tried to slip from their grasp, then swinging at whoever held her as best she could - whether with a free arm or simply fling her head back and hoping to smash into her head into her assailant.

The realization that she wasn't going to break free just by struggling slowly dawned to the Latina's still-thirst-addled mind as her efforts proved fruitless... her struggles becoming less and less frantic and more and more a protest against whoever held him back from tasting more blood... eventually ceasing all together, as she glowered into the black fabric of that man's chest once again. All her strength training, and she was absolutely no match against this man... she couldn't do anything now, so she simply stopped, biding her time as she tried to plan some way to get him back. It absolutely did not help her resentment that, as much as she resented his ability to treat her like a helpless child, she was enjoying the solid feeling of his body, pressing against her's. She wondered... what would his blood taste like?

Wait... had he not said he would kill her? Why was she still alive, then? She'd... she'd woken up in a coffin... had he meant it as some sort of symbolic thing, then? After all... he was dressed up like Zorro, running around and fighting off weird sewer rapists with a sword. It wouldn't be the most outlandish thing she'd experienced with him.

Then he introduced himself. "'Don Juan'? Really?" She asked, sarcastically. Talking smack was a favorite pastime of her and her brothers - no wrestling match was ever complete without a healthy round of it before the rumble started! - so it was almost instinctual. "If threatening to kill me is your idea of being charming, you may need to rethink your gameplan, mujeriego."

Her rational mind was returning... and with it, the realization of what she'd done to that man, whose neck she'd bitten into.

"Wait, what... what are you talking about?" She asked, panic rising in her chest. She looked over to the man, sprawled out on the ground, two bloody holes in his neck. She'd... she'd tackled him, and...

Queasiness soon joined her panic. "Mierda! What- what did I do to him?! What did you do to me?!" It had been so good going down, but now, she wanted it out of her... and, if given the space by her captor, she would try to make herself throw up, pushing a finger down her throat.
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Don Juan smiles in reply to Marisa's snarky comment, dramatically pressing his hand to his chest in mock offense. "Si, tis my name Marisa, mi gatita. Just a simple "Juan" is fine with me, however if you wish. You will come to appreciate my charms in time. I am not worried," Juan added with a wink.

The unmasked vampire's expression quickly changed to concern, noticing Marisa's sudden realization of what she had done. He was quickly behind her, his strong arms holding her tightly to his dark, manly body in a protective embrace, preventing her from harming herself. Juan gently pressed his cold lips to the top of Marisa's head for loving kiss.

"Do not fear mi gatita. Yes, I know it may feel horrible right now, to have to feed on the blood of others. I remember when I first became a cainite... a vampire, myself. Some of our kind call it a curse, but I do not think so.

It is a gift I have given you like my sire before me. I may only choose one childe every so often, and I chose you out of everyone in the world. You are immortal now Marisa, stronger, more beautiful and powerful than any human. You will outshine even most of us among the kindred. It is only within my own bloodline and those of our brothers and sisters that we do not grow pale with age. Instead, we maintain our ravishingly sexy dark skin! You are now a goddess amongst the mortals, though they will not know it. We will.

Besides, look... the man still breathes. He is in but a gentle slumber. You do require blood to survive, but you can still choose whether or not to kill your prey. All you need to do is master the beast within you, within us all, to make these decisions for yourself. With a simple lick to his wounds, they will disappear. He will eventually wake up, and no one will be the wiser. Try it."
 
Re: Viva Luchadora Morte: Marisa Menendez

Marisa resumed her struggles against her captor when he held her as she struggled with the thought of having bled that man for nourishment. Not only that, but she had enjoyed it, savored it, so much so that even as she tried to retch up his blood, she wasn't sure she could tell herself she wouldn't do it again. Damn him, it was his fault that she'd did it! How could he even - did he just kiss her on the head? Could he patronize her any more?!

When he finally freed her, her mind was racing. "A gift?!" she near-shrieked. "I can never see the sun anymore! Never see it rise or set! I can never even go out during the day without turning into ash! That's a gift?!" She started pacing. She had to had to think. "I can never... I can never go inside someplace without being invited in. Fuck! What if I lose my keys? I can't... silver... dammit, my costume has loads of silver on it, it goes so well with the moonlight! Crosses, too, right? A vampire can't even look at a cross... they burn up just looking at one in Santo Contra Las Mujeres Vampiros! Running water... shit... and I can't eat garlic anymore! Dammit, I love garlic!"

She was running her hands through her hair, muttering to herself feverishly. "I'm stronger... I'm stronger?" Kicking herself out of that sarcophagus couldn't have been too difficult... it was standing, after all, all she'd had to do was tip the cover over, and balance would have done the rest. She'd jumped him practically before he could even register it - was that it, too? If she was stronger now, though... what did that mean? She'd overpowered him so easily... would that be what her lucha libre would become? Victory because of some... some 'superiority'? Because she was a goddess, playing with men that were just objectively weaker than her? Would she win, now, because he'd injected her with vampirism, like it was some sort of steroid, instead of because she was simply more skillful, more cunning, than her opponent? If that were the case, even if her dreams came true, if she got hired into the WWF, it would be... nothing. She could wrestle Andre, Hulk Hogan, The Body... she could wrestle Stone Cold, The Rock, she could wrestle any one of them and she'd have them beat like it was nothing. No challenge. She would make them all look like jobbers. There would be nothing there for her, except to play victor over someone just completely outclassed - play like there was any weight to it.

It took her a few moments to realize that she was shaking her head side to side, muttering the word 'no' over and over again to herself.

"No," she said simply, louder. "Vampires aren't real. They're not." She strode over to the guard. "Vampires aren't real and this will prove it." She would lick his neck, she would taste latex and rubber, or whatever they used to make that fake bite wound - maybe some kinda gross powder that they dusted on it - and then someone would come out and tell her "Smile! You're on Candid Camera!" or something and then they'd all laugh, and she'd wonder how the hell they'd managed to get her to jump someone rushing in and bite his throat, or how they made her feel like she was dying of thirst, and then when she 'bit' him, made drinking his 'blood' the most incredible thing she'd ever felt. They'd probably get an Emmy or whatever they gave out for TV. She'd learn that Don Juan was actually named, like, Tommy, or something, and that that disgusting sewer guy was actually a really fancy robot puppet like in Gremlins or something, and then all of that would happen and all of what she'd heard and thought wouldn't be true.
 
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