‘How much for this?’ Sadie asked, handling the purple, green and yellow coloured-glass bead necklace.
‘That, my dear, it’s nothing but a cheap glass trinket of no real value. If you’re looking for jewellery, we have some beautiful jet necklaces or pearls.’ The woman moved across the junk shop with a grace and speed that belied her obvious age as she snatched the necklace out of Sadie’s hand.
‘No, I like this one, but it doesn’t have a price tag.’
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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Grace Mahoney is the Vamplit published author of The Dancing Dead. She lives and works in North Wales, she writes poetry because she hears it in her head and writes vampire poetry for fun. She has no plans to write anymore vampire poetry at the present as she is working on another project. She also edits and publishes other authors work and finds this just, or more, fulfilling than writing herself. And…she’s our very own Gaynor Stenson.
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‘No, it wouldn’t. That necklace isn’t for sale, I’m sorry. My grandson, Ned, comes and helps me with the heavier items and he must have left it out.’ As she spoke she nodded towards a tall and very attractive young man hovering at the back of the shop. ‘This necklace belongs to me and has been in my family for generations.’
‘But…’
‘No, I’m sorry. Now I’d like you to leave my shop.’ The shop’s owner then walked to the door and held it open. Sadie had no option but to leave, feeling slightly bemused by the old woman’s odd behaviour.
***
Sadie couldn’t rest, couldn’t think of anything other than the bead necklace. It even invaded her dreams, with each new dream becoming stranger and more vivid than the last, culminating with her looking down on the corpse of the old shopkeeper as she used the bead necklace as a ligature; the beads glowing and shimmering in Sadie’s murderous hands.
Permanently tired and constantly irritable, Sadie’s life began to unravel. First to go was her boyfriend who’s parting shot of “You were never much good in the sack, Sade, but at least you were easy going,” didn’t hurt as much as the fact he cleaned out their joint bank account. Next to go was her job with the prestigious firm of Snodgrass, Jerks and Banks Investments along with the excellent salary and bonuses. The beautiful apartment she lived in was purchased with a staff mortgage, which became repayable in full with her dismissal, so she was now also homeless too.
As the only child of older parents, who themselves had both been only children, Sadie was completely alone in the world. Once the notice of eviction had been served, Sadie boxed up her life and realising she had nowhere to send them, she grimaced and looked around her for the last time before dropping the keys down the toilet and walking out the front door.
Finally, she found herself standing outside the shop watching people going in and out as she tried to catch a glimpse the old women. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she knew something was wrong, the past month had decimated her for a reason and it had to be linked to the dreams. Nothing else made sense.
Daylight began to fade away and the street lights at the other end of the dingy street came on. Where Sadie stood, the only light came from the shop window, bathing the pavement in a golden, inviting glow similar to the shimmer she’d seen in the necklace when she’d held it up to the light. Then she saw her, the old woman, standing in the window wearing the bead necklace and smiling as she closed the blind. In an instant, anger blossomed into rage and she rushed across the road into the shop.
‘You took you time in coming back, my dear. Would you like to touch the necklace and see if it still feels so good in your hands? Isn’t it beautiful isn’t it, wouldn’t it feel wonderful against your skin?’
The old woman was taunting her, but Sadie was beyond thought, reason or even sanity. She grabbed the bead necklace pulling it tight around the scrawny neck. It glowed with life, just as it had in her dream; she pulled tighter and tighter until the light died in the woman’s eyes and she lay still, unmoving on the floor.
Sadie pulled the glowing necklace from the dead woman and in a daze placed it around her own neck.
‘Well?’ Ned asked from the shadows at the back of the shop.
‘Who are you?’ She smiled at the look of shock on his face. ‘Only joking Ned, God can’t you take a joke yet sweetheart.’
‘No I can’t, love. This time the necklace has taken us to the wire that old body was on its last legs. I don’t know why the necklace can’t just choose a couple each time.’
‘Why worry, the necklace chooses who it chooses and hasn’t let us down since it was thrown to me two-hundred years ago. Now help me drag this lump of meat down into the cellar and dispose of it with the others, be quick about it, Ned, this body is hungry for more than food,’ she said, absently twirling the beads between her fingers.
‘Thank God for that I’m fed-up with you picking at your food and it will be a relief to make love to a body that doesn’t smell of decay and creak like an old floorboard.’
The couple dealt effectively with the remains and then locked-up and headed to their flat above the shop. If the locals noticed that the old lady had gone and that her grandson finally had a girlfriend, they didn’t mention it and so the cycle began again. One day in the future they would begin to age and then it was only a matter of time before the necklace found new bodies as hosts. They never questioned the why of it; they just enjoyed their immortality and thanked their good fortune that they attended the Mardi Gras so long ago.
