Afrocentric Lesbian Vampires

"This place is beautiful," Ankha said, as she walked through the Museum of African American History in the City of Atlanta, Georgia, with her lover, Jesslyn Collier. The two female Blood Drinkers came to the Museum the moment it got dark, and thusly safe for them to exit their new Lair, a stately mansion located within walking distance of Spelman College.

It was Jesslyn's decision to move to the City of Atlanta, Georgia, because she'd grown up in a so-called Chocolate City, and liked being surrounded by her own people. Ankha had a lot to learn about the twenty-first century and its strange racial politics, but the 2700-year-old Nubian female Blood Drinker was learning quickly.

Ankha had been appalled to learn that much of the history of the ancient Africans was lost. The modern world knew a lot about the Romans and Greeks, and a bit about the Assyrians and Babylonians, the Maya, the Aztecs and even the ancient Hebrews, but they knew next to nothing about the great Nubian Kings and Queens of old, Rulers of the mightiest Kingdoms of the ancient African world.

As much as Ankha despised the long-dead King Shebitku of Nubia and his Queen Arty for entombing her for so many centuries, she often missed the Nubian Empire, her home. Ankha remembered days spent training with the fighting men and women who made up the Royal Guard of the Royal Palace of Napata City, sacred dwelling of the Nubian Kings.

Closing her eyes, Ankha remembered, and thusly found herself temporarily out of the modern-day City of Atlanta, Georgia, and transported twenty seven centuries into the past, into the seventh century before the advent of Jesus Christ. While Ankha languished in her Tomb, the beautiful and powerful ancient African nation that was her home vanished beneath the sands of time. Nevertheless, Ankha could never forget where she came from...

The Kingdom of Nubia, the fabled Land of Gold, whose wealth and power made that of the almighty Egyptians pale by comparison. Nubia, whose Kings had armies that could have wiped out many powers of the ancient world if they so wished. Nubia, whose garrisons used domesticated lions and domesticated elephants as weapons of war against their enemies. How could the world ever forget such a powerful people? Ankha wondered.

The people of Nubia had always been innovative, that was pretty much the source of their strength. Much of Nubia was desert country, with the fertile lands close to the Nile under control of their eternal rivals, the people of Egypt. The Egyptians had it easy, the Nubians did not, and it forced them to use their intelligence and resourcefulness to achieve wonders.

Long before the Egyptians build those gigantic pyramids of theirs, the people of Nubia built them, as final resting places for their Kings, Queens, noblemen and noblewomen. They also built pyramid-like structures to honor their deities. The people of Nubia made the African desert work for them, digging into its soil for gold and rare, precious stones, thus increasing their wealth and purchasing power.

Merchant ships from the Kingdom of Nubia went into West Africa, and acquired everything from silk to spices and exotic oils and even fearsome beasts from the locals. They carefully traded with the Egyptians, with both Kingdoms forever trying to outdo the other in terms of technology and achievement. It was a friendly rivalry that was anything but friendly...

In terms of military might, the Nubians were often a step ahead of the Egyptians due to their innovation. Rendered lazy by their easy access to water and fertile lands, the Egyptians built a strong army but it remained the same century after century. In the Kingdom of Egypt, the wealthy nobles and the Pharaohs allowed the poorest sons of the nation to be virtually drafted into the army.

In the Kingdom of Nubia, every man, woman or brat was expected to learn how to fight. Men and women were proficient in the use of the sword, spear and axe. The Armed Forces of the Kingdom of Nubia remained all-male until the arrival of legendary King Piye, who began integrating it by first allowing female Archers, and then female Lancers, and eventually female Riders. In the ancient world, no one had ever done this before...

"Every son and daughter of Nubia must be ready to lay down his or her life for the Kingdom, I ask you the same thing I expect of myself," King Piye said, speaking to the assembled nobles at the Meeting Hall of the Royal Palace in Napata City. Ankha's father Ashten, as a senior military official was in attendance, and she happened to be with him as the King gave his famous speech.

Father and daughter had ridden an elephant on their way to the Royal Palace of Napata City. Long before the Carthaginians ever got the idea to use war elephants, Nubians had perfected the system for the capture, breeding and training of these magnificent beasts. Ankha remembered her father Ashten, once the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces of Nubia, second in power only to the King and Queen of Nubia, taking her on a ride on an elephant.

"In this world, order is everything, for both man and beast," Commander Ashten said to his daughter as they rode his favorite war elephant, the stoic old Ruda, during a trip from the outskirts of Napata City to the beautiful Royal Palace. Ankha, who was but a young woman at the time, held tightly onto her father and marveled at the older man's absolute command of the magnificent beast.

"One day, father, I want to ride an elephant into battle," Ankha said enthusiastically, and Ashten laughed and nodded. My daughter has a fiery spirit, the old Nubian military man thought proudly. Ankha was eighteen years old, and a time when most young women were concerned with their upcoming nuptials, she showed very little interest in anything other than matters of war.

"Ankha, my dearest daughter, you have the heart of a warrior, when your mother Khanaka was pregnant with you, the Gods rest her soul, I prayed for a son but got you, a daughter stronger than most people's sons," Ashten said, laughing. Ankha looked at her father and hugged him fiercely, overcome with love for this stoic, taciturn but wonderful man who meant so much to her.

Ankha's older brother Jarok chose to become a Scribe, a learned man who worked in the Royal Archives of Nubia at the City of Meroe, rather than following in their father Ashten's footsteps and becoming a soldier. Although Ashten never discussed the matter with Ankha, she could tell that her father was disappointed in her brother.

When Ankha's father Ashten caught her in bed with a lovely female servant named Narya, the old man hadn't been shocked or angry. Ashten was amused by the fact that the Gods of Nubia apparently got their wires crossed, they gave him a son with the spirit of a daughter, to the point of preferring art, music and poetry to warfare, ( while showing zero interest in females ) and a daughter with the spirit of a son, to the point of loving warfare and bedding beautiful women.

"Father, about Narya and I, I can explain," Ankha said to her father, after getting dressed and dismissing Narya. The beautiful, brown-skinned and short-haired girl, originally from Egypt, had brought Ankha much pleasure. Still, Ankha knew that as a proud Daughter of the Nubian Realm, and a noblewoman to boot, she was expected to marry a man and produce the next generation of Nubians. Sadly, no man aroused Ankha's desires...

"My dearest daughter, no need to explain, you only love girls, and your brother loves only men, I love and support you both, but I wonder why the Gods are amusing themselves at my expense," Ashten said, laughing. The old man had been in his study, drafting plans for the expansion of the military caserns on the south end of Napata City when his daughter came by, a worried expression on her face.

"Thank you for understanding, Father," Ankha said, throwing herself into the old man's arms. Father and daughter embraced, and then Ashten went back to his work while Ankha retired to her chambers. From that day forward, Ankha went about town holding Narya's hand, and did not hide her love for the beautiful, curvaceous young Egyptian servant. Ankha did not care that people around Napata City talked about her preferences, for she had her father's blessing...

These were rapidly changing times for the people of Nubia, in ways both good and bad. Commander Ashten's good friend and benefactor, the legendary King Piye shook things up when he took the helm of the Nubian Kingdom. With Commander Ashten leading his armies, King Piye began the Age of Nubian Conquest...

King Piye went around conquering nearby lands, building roads, solidifying the Nubian currency, the proverbial gold coin of the realm bore his face and seal, an idea credited to the King's Royal Advisor, the insidious Atem. Ankha never cared for the short, silver-haired, dark-skinned man who had the ear of both King Piye and his successor and son, King Shebitku. With his beady eyes and eerie laughter, Atem reminded Ankha of a hyena...

At the thought of Atem, Ankha bristled. Snapping out of her train of thought, Ankha disentangled herself from the powerful pull of her ancient memories and remembered where she was. Napata City, and the Nubian Empire itself were long gone, along with her beloved father Ashten, and the female servants whom she enjoyed in her bed. My whole world is gone, Ankha thought bitterly.

"I visited the Museum of African American History when I was an undergrad at Howard University, it took my breath away back then too," Jesslyn said, smiling. Ankha turned to face Jesslyn and blinked, and amazingly, the younger female Blood Drinker seemed to be aware of Ankha's zone-out. They'd been happening frequently, her getting caught up in vivid memories from the ancient past...

Gently, Jesslyn lay a hand on Ankha's shoulder, for her partner seemed a bit out of it. I wish she'd stop zoning out like that, I worry about her, Jesslyn thought, nodding gently at Ankha, quietly reassuring her. Ankha looked at Jesslyn and returned her smile. My lover looks amazing, ankha thought, admiring Jesslyn.

Tonight, Jesslyn Collier looked particular gorgeous. The newbie Blood Drinker wore a Black leather jacket over a dark blue tank top, Black Yoga pants, and Black leather boots. She'd done her dark kinky hair into a stylish Afro which suited her just fine. Damn Jesslyn and the way her ass looks in those pants, Ankha thought, smiling. The revealing attire that modern women wore in this strange future would have made the courtesans of Nubia blush, that's for damn sure.

"Now you don't breathe," Ankha said softly, throwing her arms around her beloved Jesslyn as they stood in front of the official portrait of President Barack Obama. Ankha, who'd been alive in the time of the Nubian Kings of old, some twenty seven hundred years ago, cracked a smile as she admired the portrait of America's first Black President...

"I haven't met this man but I will admit, he does seem remarkable," Ankha said, and for a brief moment, she closed her eyes, remembering the time when men who looked like President Barack Obama were rulers of the ancient world. Long before the Romans, the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the ancient Greeks and the Egyptians or the Persians, the people of Nubia were a great power in their own right.

"Sweetie, I was around the night Obama got elected, I remembered saying a prayer of thanks for his success and praying for his safety even though I wasn't religious," Jesslyn said with a happy sigh. Ankha smiled, marveling at this strange, beautiful, wonderful woman who'd become her lover, her supporter, and one of the most magnificent Blood Drinkers she'd ever seen.

"Must have been a wonderful night," Ankha said, smiling, and she playfully licked Jesslyn's ear, then poked her nose. Jesslyn frowned, annoyed, and Ankha laughed, for she knew exactly how to push her lover's buttons. Jesslyn tried not to smile, and Ankha nodded innocently, then grabbed her lover's big round butt and gave it a squeeze.

"Hmm, pretending to be interested in African American history so you can squeeze my booty, shame on you, Ankha," Jesslyn said, giggling. Ankha looked into Jesslyn's eyes, and took in her lovely face, her button nose, her freckled face, and that round, sensuous mouth. Ankha silenced Jesslyn with a kiss, and Jesslyn embraced her, kissing her back passionately.

"Whoa," Ankha said, for, after their kiss, Jesslyn grabbed her butt and squeezed it real hard. Ankha looked at Jesslyn, who smiled mischievously and shrugged. Shaking her head, Ankha grabbed Jesslyn's hand, and they ventured deeper into the Museum. It was seven thirty and the Museum closed at nine o'clock, so they had to hurry up if they wanted to see most of the exhibits...

"I'm glad that the Museum is featuring African artifacts returned to the people of Northwest Africa by the British," Jesslyn said, standing before a ceremonial mask and a set of weapons on a display case. Ankha placed her hand against the case and carefully looked at the artifacts, then smiled, shaking her head.

"Jesslyn, babe, these weapons aren't from Northwest Africa, they're tools of the Axumites, what you modern people call Ethiopians, I know because they fought against us Nubians in the time of my father, Commander Ashten," Ankha said, matter-of-factly. Jesslyn looked at her lover, amazed, and smiled. My Ankha is a walking library, Jesslyn thought, marveling at her.

"You should be teaching Nubian history at a college somewhere," Jesslyn said, laughing. The two of them continued walking around the Museum, checking out various artifacts, paintings and precious objects. The place was really something, but Ankha was starting to get bored. The amount of African knowledge that had been lost over the course of the centuries was staggering...

"I'd rather teach you a thing or two," Ankha said, and she kissed Jesslyn on the lips. An hour later, they left the Museum, and headed to outside. Jesslyn had been to Atlanta many times, once for a sorority sister's wedding, and another time for a three-day conference on women of color in education. Ankha, though, was seeing Atlanta for the first time...

"What was it like in Napata City when you were alive?" Jesslyn asked, and Ankha paused. There were certain things that one simply couldn't put into words, and Jesslyn didn't know what she was asking of Ankha. For Ankha, waking up in this strange time, where people who looked like her were objects of scorn, hatred and persecution, when they'd been rulers of the ancient world, well, it was akin to a nightmare...

Ankha thought long and hard about Jesslyn's question. How to describe Napata City in its former glory to someone like Jesslyn? Napata City, with a population of half a million, was considered one of the largest metropolitan areas of the ancient African world. Traders and merchants from all over the world came to do business there, the Capital of the Land of Gold. The wealth of the ancient Nubian Kings had been truly exceptional...

Ankha remembered the City of Napata's walled gardens, the public square in which tumblers and other performers put on fantastic displays, and the lively marketplace, where everything from silks to oils, spices, exotic animals and slaves were sold. The City of Meroe was glorious in its own right, but Napata City was truly the heart and soul of the Nubian Empire...

Ankha remembered her father Ashten taking her and their servant Narya, Ankha's secret lover, to the Arena where wealthy men and women paid to watch men fight other men in gladiatorial games, sometimes to the death. Thanks to her father's connections, they got to sit at the pinnacle of the seat, the very best vantage point from which to watch the games...

What really interested Ankha was the fights between animals. Watching men fight other men grew boring after a while. Ankha craved excitement and new experiences. She would never forget the day when an African male lion captured in the Southern African savannah was pitted against a tiger, a fearsome striped beast from the jungles of Southern Asia...

"Once upon a time, Napata City was the place to be," Ankha said, smiling faintly. She gently squeezed Jesslyn's hand as they walked by the lively campus of Spelman College, one of the first places they'd visited upon moving to the City of Atlanta, Georgia. The all-female, historically black school appealed immensely both to Ankha and Jesslyn's unique sensibilities.

"I hope Atlanta pleases you, my love," Jesslyn whispered, and Ankha nodded. They continued walking, heading to a nearby park. A monument dedicated to Martin Luther King Jr. in that same park had recently been defaced with racist graffiti, and Jesslyn bristled when she saw the hateful symbols. Ankha, unfamiliar with the symbols, they meant nothing.

The City of Atlanta was beautiful and complicated, but Ankha was adjusting to it. Truth be told, for Ankha, home was wherever she happened to be, as long as she was happy and safe, with her beloved Jesslyn by her side. Since moving to the City of Atlanta, they'd been discrete in their quest for blood, preferring to drink from the veins of wicked men and wicked women.

To Ankha, a woman sworn to protect the people of Nubia, and beholden to an oath of honor to the ancient Nubian King Shebitku, the idea of preying upon the sons and daughters of the African diaspora living in Atlanta seemed downright sacrilegious. Becoming a Blood Drinker hadn't diluted Ankha's sense of honor, even though she still resented King Shebitku for robbing her of 2700 years of life...

"You please me," Ankha replied, and Jesslyn was about to reply when something caught her attention. Ankha froze, and then turned around. She stood protectively in front of Jesslyn, and faced the new threat. A trio of young Caucasian men, two of whom wore bright red hats, while the third had a shaved head and tattoos. The trio looked at the two tall, dark-skinned females and smiled.

"What have we here, boys? A couple of lesbian darkies," said the bald-headed, tattooed one, who appeared to be the trio's leader. The other two flanked him, and pulled switch blades out of their pockets. Ankha eyed the three young men coolly. It might have been eons into the future, but the proud, and now fanged Daughter of Nubia knew enemies when she spotted them...

"Leave us alone," Jesslyn protested, and the three young men laughed. Ankha remained silent, her eyes never leaving her foes. As they came forward, so did she. In a blur of motion, Ankha waded into the men, her eyes turning bright crimson and her fingernails extending into claws as she did so. In less than a minute, two of the young men were dispatched with haste.

"Get him," Ankha said to Jesslyn, pointing to the third young man, who stood there, frozen. He'd seen the carnage that the tall, dark-skinned and bald-headed female unleashed unto his buddies. Not even in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined that strength and speed like this could exist.

"Don't touch me, bitch," shouted the young man, and he pulled out a gun, firing as Jesslyn came for him. The tall, curvy, brown-skinned and Afro-sporting female Blood Drinker's eyes turned red, her teeth elongated and sharpened, and she caught the gunman in her arms, barely flinching from the bullets that thudded into her.

"That's what you get for calling me a bitch," Jesslyn said, laughing as she sank her fangs into the young man's neck. She tasted his sweet blood, and opened her mind to the experience, relishing the kill while simultaneously experiencing all that her victim was...or had been. What Jesslyn saw both amazed and disgusted her...

When a Blood Drinker drinks from a human victim, he or she doesn't merely soak up the nutrients necessary to extend his or her own Immortality. Jesslyn saw into her victim's She saw him online, stirring hatred against those who didn't look like him. She sensed his hate, his fear and his insecurity, fueled by the fact that the country in which he'd grown up was starting to change...