The Curse of the Romani by Gryffindor
Discover the enchanting tale of “The Curse of the Romani” by Gryffindor, where passion and magic intertwine. Dive into a captivating gay sex story filled with desire, mystery, and unexpected twists that will leave you breathless. Uncover the secrets of love that defy boundaries—read now!
A muggy heat descended on the small town of Soulcrest, creating a thick, hazy fog in the air. No one dared leave the air-conditioned safety of his home lest his skin become covered in slick, sticky sweat. Even the animals of the neighborhood had found a cool space to spend the evening. The light of the full moon peaked out occasionally from the dark, thick clouds that covered the night sky.
A single cry from an owl broke the silence in the air surrounding Soulcrest Cemetery. The pale moonlight cast eerie shadows around the tombstones, providing a surreal, ominous feeling to the graveyard. A pair of figures moved stealthily across the hallowed ground making sure to stay close to the shadows. The only sign of their movement was the faint glow of the moonlight as it reflected off the pair’s nocturnal eyes.
One of the figures quickly raised his hand, signaling his companion to stop. The duo carefully scanned the immediate area for any signs of movement. The clouds suddenly shifted and the moonlight shone down upon them. The creatures’ true nature was revealed a moment later when they opened their mouths and light glinted from their razor sharp fangs. They were possessors of the dark gift, children of the eternal night. Vampires, roaming the cemetery grounds.
Just as the two vampires had decided the area was clear, a new figure–dressed in a black monk’s robe–stepped out of the dark shadows created by a mausoleum. The deep hood of the robe was pulled forward over the stranger’s face masking his identity. The hungry vampires took immediate notice of the new arrival, grateful that a human snack had been so easily delivered.
The soulless creatures split apart and slowly circled their prey, trying to decide the best course of attack to take their dinner down. In the same instant, the duo sprang into action and leapt to attack. They were both a few feet from their feast when the stranger’s hands shot out at them, and they suddenly stopped in midair. The vampires howled in frustration at their inability to move.
“You will no longer hunt these grounds.” The figure’s quiet voice slipped from beneath the hood. “Burn.”
The vampires’ howls increased in intensity as their bodies burst into flame. The hunter stood motionless as the vampires turned to ash. The robe-covered arms remained outstretched until the remaining ash of the soulless creatures floated away on the breeze. As the figure turned around, he came face to face with another vampire. Unlike his companions, this vampire stood a few feet away and watched the cloaked figure, making no move to attack.
As their eyes met, the hunter’s breath caught in his throat. There was something different about this vampire. An unusual feeling that could not be explained shot through the cloaked figure. The two of them stood silently, carefully watching each other, but neither made any attempt to move. After what felt like an eternity, the vampire slid back into the darkness and disappeared. The hunter’s head shook back and forth slightly. He couldn’t understand why he let the vampire live. He felt as if he was under some type of spell. As the moon was once again shrouded in darkness, the mysterious figured stepped back into the shadows and disappeared.
#
Ian Sanders sat up in bed, gasping for breath. His unfocused eyes darted around the confines of his bedroom. A shaking hand reached out and brushed back a piece of blonde hair that was stuck to his sweaty face. His body didn’t stop trembling until he realized that he was safe and sound in his own bedroom. Ian sighed as he glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was too early in the morning to be awake, and the dim light creeping through his windows, signifying the rising sun, solidified the fact.
Ian had been having the nightmares for over a week, ever since his run-in with the mysterious vampire in the cemetery. He couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t sensed the creature behind him. His reflexes were razor sharp, and it worried him that his abilities had failed him. With another deep sigh, he pushed himself out of bed. There was no way sleep was going to be coming again. Ian was in for a very long day.
Groggily, he made his way into the apartment’s kitchen. He filled up the coffeepot before making his way into the bathroom. His six-foot-three frame fit snugly in the small shower stall as he washed himself clean. Ian dried his body with a towel and then brushed his shoulder length hair back and secured it at the nape of his neck with a strip of leather. He threw on some clothes and headed into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.
Ian hoped that the caffeine would help with the headache that was ravaging his head. He had been on pins and needles ever since seeing the mysterious vampire in the graveyard. Ian had to been on guard constantly because he obviously couldn’t sense this new vamp. He knew the best course of action would be to talk to his grandmother. If anyone could shed light on the situation, she could.
Ian placed the half-empty cup of coffee into the sink and grabbed his keys off the counter top. He locked his front door and started walking the few blocks to his grandmother’s house. Ian hoped that his father wasn’t there visiting, as well. Ever since he came out of the closet a few years ago, there had been a large distance between the two of them. Jeffrey Sanders still felt that Ian was a child, even if he was twenty-two-years-old.
His father was old fashioned, and he wasn’t very happy to find out that his son would not be continuing the family name. Ian was the first male child to be born into the family for many generations. The family’s bloodline had depended on the women to carry on their heritage for so long, his father was very proud to sire the first boy in hundreds of years. Ian knew that his sexuality damaged his father’s pride, but there was nothing he could do about it. Being gay was no different than being born a Gypsy. It ran through his veins defining the man he had become.
Ian slowly made his way up the front steps of his grandmother’s old Victorian home. Happy memories from his childhood flooded through his mind as he stepped into the entryway. He would treasure the years he had spent growing up in that house for the rest of his life. As he headed down the hall towards the kitchen, those happy thoughts were interrupted as a warning bell sounded off in his head.
Without even a second thought, Ian dropped to the floor and somersaulted forward. He came up in a defensive crouch with both his hands extended. Every muscle in his body tensed as he waited for the attack to come, but nothing happened. His head jerked towards the kitchen as sounds of clapping reached his ears.