The first one spoke. He had a booming authoritative voice that forcibly grabbed the attention of the others. It brought to an immediate halt one engrossing conversation in mid-sentence and rattled some old nearby windows. There was no one else within earshot of him, not that anyone else besides those assembled would have been able to perceive it.

He was already in character, deciding to simply jump into his tale without the typical buildup or reflection. It was not unheard of to begin in such a fashion, but it drew the ire of some in the background, feeling disrespected, or worse, ignored. There were many who had been harboring such feelings from his very introduction to the group; however, if he knew of it, he behaved as if it were insignificant, which succeeded in making their furor worse.

Reluctantly, they took their positions and did their level best not to make their disdain for him so painfully obvious. In the end, as usual, whether they liked it or not, they found themselves so drawn into the telling that they could not pull themselves out again before the payoff.

“I pulled into my parking stall late that first night and shut off the car. We don’t have a parking lot, just a few spaces in the alley: there’s only eight units in the complex anyway, so we don’t need much. I drive a 98 Mustang convertible; yellow with black lines and when I opened the door, something caught my ear.”
“Hannah.”
“It sounded very otherworldly, as if I heard it, but not really. More like I felt it. I thought someone was crying, and then realized that that wasn’t it, it was somebody calling. However, when I stopped to listen, it was gone. I stood there in the dark for a while to see if it’d come back, but it didn’t. I was tired and hungry, so I probably only gave it a few seconds before I finally turned and headed for my apartment.”
“I didn’t hear it again until the next night. I had just pulled into my spot and cut the motor.”
“Here, Hannah.”
“It scared the shit outta’ me! I must’ve been daydreaming or something. I even checked the back seat. That’s how close it was.”
“C’mon, Hannah. Come to big sister. Hannah?”
“So I jumped out of the car to see whether I might be able to catch them this time. I wasn’t thinking about ghosts or anything…”
The spinner of the tale paused a moment, slipping out of character. “I know. I love that, too,” he said, directing the comment to some of those who laughed.
He quickly climbed back into character and continued.
“I was just curious. Anyway, I could hear the voice as clearly as my own thoughts, but I couldn’t see anyone.”
“Hannah? C’mon, girl. Hannah?”
“It just kept taking me deeper and deeper into the alley and away from my building. There’s not much lighting back there either, so I was starting to get more than just a little spooked.”
Another pause and more laughter ensued.
“Here, Hannah. Here, Hannah.”
“Finally, I stopped. I glanced back toward the building in order to judge the distance. I never heard another thing that night, but it stayed with me. I didn’t get a wink of sleep. The last time I looked at the time it was 3:07 am. I forced myself to roll over and quit staring at the clock after that, so I don’t know what time it was before I finally fell asleep; it was a while, though. I know that. I sure paid for it the next day at work, let me tell you.”
“The next day was a blur. All that I could think about was whether I might once again hear that mysterious voice in the alley. I didn’t even have the stereo on when I drove home that next night, and I usually have it cranked; that’s how committed I was to getting to the bottom of all of this. I didn’t even wait to completely pull into my spot before cutting off the motor. Hell, I may have even jumped out of the car before it had finished rolling forward. Who knew?”
“Unfortunately, all of my best efforts proved fruitless because there was no one in the alley and no nearby activity. I was alone and felt like a damned fool. I remember shaking my head in disgust as I made the slow walk up to my apartment.”
“A voice suddenly came out of nowhere.”
“Excuse me, Sir,”
“Where she came from, I’ll never know! I just spun around. But as I did, my short-term memory kicked in and I knew who it was. It was the same damn voice I had been chasing in and out of the shadows for the past two nights. I couldn’t believe I was hearing it now. But there it was; there she was.”
“Excuse me, Sir,”
“She called me ‘sir’. Can you believe that? I could see she was a little young, seventeen or eighteen, but ‘sir’, I don’t think so! I’m not that much older. Okay, maybe twelve years, but that’s it. She said hello to me with a sweet smile. Man, was she pretty! Nice skin; not too dark, not too fair. And there was a lot to look at with the bare midriff and the tiny shorts that nearly revealed the entire leg.”
“I’m, Audrey. I’m looking for my cat.”
“I asked her whether her cat’s name was Hannah and she appeared surprised. She didn’t know the strength of her own voice, I guess.”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Well, of course it was because she had been driving me half out of my mind for three days, but I didn’t tell her that. I just told her that I had heard her calling for her”
“Him, she corrected me.”
“Him? I asked and she started blushing.”
“My baby sister named the cat a long time ago. She was too young to understand gender and I was too young and childish and spending too much time watching Hannah Montana. I suppose it’s my fault, ultimately. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t. What does he look like?”
“They’re called Ginger cats: orange and white.”
“I was promising to keep an eye out for the cat when a set of headlights belonging to a police car that was pulling into the alley distracted me. When I looked back at the girl, she was gone again. Disappeared, just like that into thin air, like the saying goes. I about freaked! I must have glanced around for her madly because the police car pulled right beside me and the officer studied me for a while.”
“Hello, I remember sighing.”
“Live around here?”
“Yes, Sir. I just moved in.”
“Seen any suspicious activities?”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been watching you for a while now and you were acting a mite suspicious.”
“I remember just staring at him. I was standing in an alley, talking to a young woman. We were only talking!”
“You looked like you were waiting to hook up. Got something cookin’?”
“I was flabbergasted! I come home every night, haunted by some girl calling for her cat. I finally meet her, only to have her disappear almost as mysteriously as she appeared. Then a cop shows up out of the blue and accuses me of suspicious activities. I’m just looking to get some dinner in me so I can go to bed. He must have noticed me growing upset because his expression changed.”
“Relax, buddy. I’m just asking. It is rather late.”
“Yes, it is.”
“But there was someone. Right?”
“He looked me straight in the eye and asked. I felt like his eyes were boring a smoking hole into my forehead and beginning to probe my brain. The only things missing were the box interrogation room, a two-way mirror and Andre Braugher from Homicide: Life on the Streets, staring me in the face. Anyway, I was tired, so I just let it all out. Alright, officer, here’s the thing. For the past few nights, I’ve been hearing some girl calling out for her lost cat. I tried to find her, but I never could. Tonight, I finally found her. Actually, she found me, but that’s not the point. I spoke to her for a little while, but she disappeared on me again just as you pulled up!”
“His expression changed yet again. This time I thought that I had made him angry, as if I had gone too far.”
“You spoke to a girl who was looking for her cat?”
“Yes.”
“Hannah, right?”
“I tell you I just bet my jaw dropped when he said that. I was starting to feel like a character in the Martian Chronicles or something. Like the whole town was against me, watching and planning elaborate schemes to play on me. Either that or Alan Funt was hiding behind a row of cars with hidden cameras a dime a dozen. Then the cop jumped out of his patrol car and whipped out his flashlight.”
“Short blonde hair; always running her hands through it.”
“I stepped out of his way and let him pass. I vaguely remember doing it as his knowledge of the turn of events continued to stagger me. He walked a little way down the alley, and then turned back. I didn’t have clue-one as to what the man was doing, so I didn’t say a word. I just watched him. He turned off the light and put it back through the ring holder for it on his belt.”
“I attempted to answer him, but he wouldn’t give me a chance. He just kept talking. The words were coming out of his mouth as if he were unable to stop them.”
“Cold out, but she’s wearing, let me see…a bare midriff tee-shirt, shorts, white shoes, no socks.”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“He just watched me for a while and waited. It was as if he was surveying me, studying my expression to see if he could find a crack to start pounding away to see if I’d rat out my friends and tell him who killed Kennedy and where Hoffa was buried.”
“This isn’t bullshit, is it?”
“No! Who the hell makes up a story like that?”
“You’ve just spoken to Audrey! He said and sighed.”
“Audrey. Yeah, that was her name.”
“Not, Audrey. The Audrey!”
“The Audrey? What the hell does that mean?”
“She’s our ghost!”
“What? I’m tired as hell, but I know a real life, living and breathing person when I see one!”
“Trust me. We have a ghost. She’s not spotted very often. In fact, I’m surprised you saw her at all. And to actually talk to her, that’s something else entirely. I wish it would have been me! I’ve been hoping to catch a glimpse of her for years. There’s not much else to keep you awake in a quiet city like this on the graveyard shift.”
“C’mon, officer! You’ve got to be kidding me! There’s no way that the girl I just talked to was a ghost. There’s just no way!”
“I know it sounds like horseshit…”
“Sounds like it?”
“Look, Audrey McNeal was a runaway. She disappeared sometime in the summer about thirty years ago.”
“Thirty? This girl wasn’t thirty!”
“Of course she wasn’t thirty! She was only seventeen when she disappeared! She hasn’t aged! Some say she was kidnapped by perverts, but I don’t think so.”
“What about the cat?”
“Well, see, that’s my point. The kidnapping theory-people can’t explain it. All of their answers differ. But that’s what makes her a runaway in my book. You see, I think it’s some kind of psychological thing. She ran off, and God knows how she ended up, but now, in death, it’s the cat who was the one who ran off, not her. Hannah abandoned Audrey, not the other way around.”
“At this point, I think I was the one who was staring at him now.”
“Doesn’t it make perfect sense? The girl can’t cope with the blame for her fate. She’s somehow either forgotten what happened or repressed the entire thing. Anyway, she’s evidently in limbo looking for a cat that’s long gone. That’s some punishment just for running away, don’t you think?”
“But aren’t you just giving her a little too much credit? I mean, if she’s a ghost, does she still have the ability to think and to repress events if she feels so inclined?”
“The officer became lost in introspection for an instant, but that was all.”
“You bring up a good point.”
“I thought I had his bullshit by the maggots. I even felt victory for a second, but it was fleeting.”
“Unfortunately, I cannot explain the condition of her state. However, I can the result. What I’ve described to you are the facts as I’ve come to piece them together over the years, from every source willing to discuss it with me; there’s not many, you know.”
“People don’t like to talk about it?”
“Sure don’t.”
“I thought this was rather odd, but I didn’t dwell on it long. Instead, I tried another approach. Well, if I see her tomorrow, I’ll ask her what she thinks. Goodnight. Then I tried to make good my escape.”
“Wait! You can’t talk to her!”
“Why not?”
“Because you can’t risk it!”
“What risk?”
“You don’t understand! Audrey isn’t safe!”
“So! I’ll use a condom!”
“My poor attempt at humor caused a very ugly look to crawl upon his face. He frowned suddenly and made a move to put a hand on me. I remember I didn’t expect that, and I’m not really sure what I would’ve done had he gone through with it and got rough. Luckily, I didn’t have to do anything. Something stopped him. I don’t know what it was, but I was grateful. Man, I actually saw anger flash across his eyes there for a second like lightening across an Oklahoma horizon. As long as I live, I’ll never forget that look.”
More laughter ensued. Even some of those who hated the speaker with a passion that they had not known in this life found it difficult to not join in with the rest.
“Anyway, I wasn’t ready for it, you know. I’m still a stranger in this town. How do I know what they do to people they don’t like? It’s a small place: maybe they take ‘em out by the river and make ‘em disappear like Audrey did. Who knows, right?”
“If you thought the first story I told you was something, then you’re definitely going to love this next one.”
“To tell you the truth, I could have cared less! I’m just glad he was talking again and making peaceful. I was too tired for anything else.”
“Anyway, he was right; I didn’t believe him, and I obviously wasn’t gonna’ to be buying this next one either. But I let him take his shot at it anyway.”
“As the story goes somebody named Olsen happened upon Audrey about twenty years ago. It got to be kind of an obsession with him. He started missing work, staying up ’til dawn, sleeping during the day; the whole nine yards. They say he began to look like a ghost himself, after awhile. Sometime after his wife had had enough and had taken the children and left him, Mister Olsen finally found his ghost again. Well, the reason I’m warning you, though it sounds ridiculous as hell is because she attacked him.”
“So I said that he’d ended up getting what he wanted after all, but that apparently was not what the officer wanted to hear, either. I thought he was going to try and grab me this time for sure. He stepped close, looked around nervously and whispered something you wouldn’t believe.”
“She sucked his soul!”
“And that’s when he finally grabbed me. He had these thick black gloves on. I bet they were warm inside, but they were sure as Hell freezing on the outside. And they had a hold of me good, too! I was about fifteen seconds away from kneein’ him in the family jewels and yellin’ for help. Luckily for both of us, some resemblance of sanity suddenly seemed to return to his face.”
“The way the story goes. She sucked the life out of him.”
“Sucked the life out of him? Give me a break! What was incredible though, was, here was a man who although a Police Officer, a servant of the community, had only known me for fifteen minutes, but was absolutely frightened for me. So, that’s when I realized that my sarcasm was better suited for the re-telling of the story, not the listening. Brilliant, huh? She did what? I asked him, sounding genuinely interested. I knew I had to be convincing. I just couldn’t suddenly act like a smitten schoolgirl, feigning interest with her boyfriend while he explained the difference between defensive linemen, linebackers and defensive backs, you know. And I was good because he bought it. He let go of me and then finished his story.”
“She drained him of his essence. I don’t know how she did it, but she did. When they found him the next morning, he was nothing more than a husk. He spent the rest of his days over in Kingsview.”
“Of course, I didn’t need an explanation as to what ‘Kingsview’ might be. As long as this cop knew, that was all that mattered. Somebody should call and make reservations for you right now buddy, I remember thinking.”
“He died just a few years later. Broken spirit, I guess.”
“It must’ve been, I agreed with him. I guess it was a successful snow job because a sudden calm washed over him. He stepped away and seemed to catch his breath, so I waited for a few seconds and then tried to make my escape. Look, officer…”
“Officer Clark. Officer David Clark.”
“Okay, Officer Clark. I know that I haven’t been too appreciative with what you have tried to do. I mean, you don’t even know me, and yet you have put yourself out on a limb by telling me all about Audrey and the danger. I won’t lie to you: the story’s fantastical, and I am having trouble with it, but I do thank you. I stepped toward him and extended my hand. I’m very sorry.”
“That’s alright, he said, reaching for my hand. But as his gloved right hand touched mine, the cold rayon or polyester or whatever it was sent my hand retreating. Man, it was freezing! Anyway, we looked up at each other and started bustin’ up. It was the perfect ending for a perfect night, if you know what I mean. Of course, I didn’t tell good Officer Clark that. Anyway, he finally headed back to his car.”
“I’m sorry, but your gloves are freezing!”
“So I understand, he smiled and said, climbing back into his patrol unit. Next time I see you, I’ll take them off.”
“Finally, he was gone. I waved him off and then quickly went home. I slammed a sandwich down my throat and went to bed.”
“The next night was Saturday and I was off. I just took it easy. I watched some TV, munched on some cheese and crackers washed them down with a beer, then took a nap, waiting for after dark. I wasn’t frightened by Officer Clark’s bullshit about sucking souls, and I certainly didn’t believe that Audrey was a ghost, yet, I just couldn’t help being curious about seeing Audrey again.
“I ended up falling asleep. The best laid plans of mice and men, right! Well, actually it probably turned out to be the best because even at two in the morning, I could still hear people hanging around outside by the pool, having some drinks. I didn’t have to wait long, though. Soon I was outside, back in the alley.”
“Here, Hannah.”
“The voice was suddenly right behind me. I spun around and there she was.”
“Here, Hannah… Oh, hello.”
“She apparently had not seen me either. Hi, Audrey, I said. I’m surprised I got that much out. Audrey was standing there all right, but not like she was the night before. She was wearing the smallest fitting sweater and a pair of low rise jeans that fit like a second skin…”
Now the entire room seemed to explode with laughter.
“Anyway, I was stunned. What happened to Officer Clark’s story about her being in the same shirt and shorts she’d been wearing every day for the past thirty years? It looked like I was proved right, but the funny thing was, I guess I was just a little surprised. Maybe a part of me really wanted to believe the story about her after all! No luck finding Hannah, huh?”
“Nope, I can’t seem to find him. I hate to give up on him, but he’s been gone a long time. The town’s small, and still pretty quiet, but it’s still not safe in the world these days for a girl to be out this late.”
“You know, that’s very smart thinking. It isn’t safe these days. But it could be worse: I’m from Phoenix, I should know!”
“You’re right. I think I’ll probably just forget it and go back inside.”
“When she did finally turn to go, she allowed me to accompany her home.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Yes, I know. You called me ‘sir’ the other night!”
“Audrey giggled and apologized. You looked older in the dark, she said. I can see that I made a mistake.”
“That’s okay, I’m Max.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Max.”
“It’s nice to meet you again, Audrey. I’m new here and it gets lonely when you don’t know anybody. I stopped her as we reached the grass that led to her place and re-phrased what I had said to her. I don’t mean for that to sound so serial killer-ish. What I meant was that it gets boring if there isn’t anyone to talk to, you know, that’s all. You can only watch so many reality shows.”
“That’s okay, she said. I didn’t take it any other way.”
“I shook her hand briefly and wished her a good night.”
“She wished me a goodnight as well and I headed for home. Unfortunately, I never made it. I found myself half-blinded by headlights again. I knew who it was. It could not have been anyone else; not the way my luck had been running. I walked up to the car and by the time I could see again, I saw the passenger door open. I stopped and waited to see if anyone was getting out. Eventually, I took it as my clue that I was supposed to get in. Hey, Officer Clark, I said. How’s it going?”
“He just stared at me without saying a word.”
“Something wrong?”
“I thought I told you to stay away from Audrey? I thought you understood?”
“C’mon, Officer…”
“Shut up!”
“I didn’t need any more of this, so I grabbed the door and started to get out. I got about half-way before a big cold hand grabbed me and pulled me back in.”
“Did I tell you to get out?”
“I tried to fight him off, I tried to speak, but I was so cold all of a sudden that I lost my train of thought. I thought of Audrey. What happened to your story about Aw-dree being a ghost? Suddenly, I was losing the ability to speak.”
“I was so cold! It felt for a moment like my arm was on fire. Let go my arm! I think you really done s-something to me now, it’s starting to h-hurt! Yes, my ahm! Don’t just ook at it, et me go! You got some k-kind of problem or what?”
“Not at all.”
“Can y-you let g-go?”
“Not quite yet.”
“Not q-quite yet, what the h-hell does..? Oh, G-God! It’s s-so c-cold. Y-your h-hand. I’ss r-really s-sar-ing to b-bur mme.”
“Just a while longer yet and it won’t hurt ever again. However, first let me explain that Audrey isn’t a ghost. I am.”
“Is that when you sucked him?” one of those up in front interrupted.
“Yes, but it wasn’t quite over yet.”
“Sorry,” he quickly apologized.
He waved it off, attempting with some difficulty to maintain his position in the story. “That’s okay. Anyway, he tried to pull my cold fingers off of his arm, but by then the process was already complete and he just fell lifeless.”
“I love the way, though, that the point of view has changed,” He continued to interrupt. “At first you were a character to Max, now Max is a character to you!”
“Ah, yes. Anyway, he said to me… Um, I said to him… Oh, Hell! I can’t remember where I was!”
“Take it easy,” another said. He stood against a wall at the back of the room. He was much older and wiser, and the most senior arch demon amongst the throng of ghosts and demons present. “It will come to you. This is often the case with human stories. When interrupted enough times, especially near the end, you often become confused between your role and your role as seen through the eyes and ears of the husk before the drinking of the soul.”
“Okay, I’ve got it. Max looked down at his arm as the last of the warmth left his body. Well, he didn’t have much choice in the matter: his neck, too weak to support his head simply fell limp. All he could do at that point was move his eyes. Anyway, I think he understood what had happened. Just in case, I leaned over his husk after I pulled him out of the car and whispered to him, setting my now warm red lips over his right ear: Max, what I said about sucking souls was true. I just sucked yours!”
“You didn’t tell him that!”
“Yes, I did, Poltergeist.”
“Cruel bastard!”
“I promised you I’d remove my gloves the next time we met, I reminded Max. Unfortunately for you, Max. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t know that the sucking of souls takes place through contact with bare skin.”
“That’s when his eyes started to lose their final luster and became that dull stare. I knew he couldn’t hear me after that. Well, he could, but there wasn’t much he could do with it. I know the institutions think they can get stuff out of the husks we send them, but they can’t. They’re just fooling themselves! Anyway, I just leaned him up against his car and drove off into the night.”
Among them, there arose a question.
“Yes, young demon?” the teller of the tale asked.
“Is that the end?”
“Well, not quite. I did do something that you might’ve been rather proud of, Poltergeist.”
“What’s that?”
“Hannah. I retrieved the dead cat out of the trunk and tossed its stiff little body in the husk’s lap before I left. You should’ve seen the look on Audrey’s face next morning when she heard the ruckus as a crowd formed to see the sight. She walked over, the crowd parted to let her through, she screamed at the top of her lungs. It was great!”

James Garcia Jr.

James Garcia Jr’s novel Dance on Fire by James Garcia Jr. will be available from ebookundead.com published by Vamplit Publishing in the New Year.

The woman standing at the bar resembled my cousin so much it was uncanny.

For the last few years, I’d been hunting more and more only those who seemed to bear some likeness to members of my mortal family, dead and gone. It was as if I were physically attempting to destroy any and all memories of them. It would have been far easier to argue the logic of this had it not proved so effective, as with each evocative feeding, the memory of my former life receded a little further into the recesses of my mind. After hundred years, I still had some way to go before I would lose recollection of them completely.

I’d had been watching the woman for some time. She’d entered the central London pub with a silky confidence, gliding through the throng effortlessly to find a space at the bar where, refusing to resemble the many pathetic city patrons trying desperately to be served, she simply stood there as if merely taking a breather. Her body weight shifted subtly to rest upon one precariously high heel, causing the thin black material of her dress to tighten upon her formidable curves. Casually, she ran a hand through her long blonde mane, conscious or not that the gesture caused all males around her to stare. Within a matter of seconds, one of the many barmen made themselves readily available to her, much to the chagrin of her neighbours. She’d smiled then, a devastating expression that seemed to spell danger as much attraction, paid, took her drink (a white wine) and turned from the bar. In the same assured manner in which she’d entered the pub, she placed herself, quite coincidentally I was sure, amongst a group of rowdy young college boys who’d been present since I’d arrived more than three hours ago. Her presence was instantly greeted with eager smiles. A few even attempted conversation, but were met with disappointment, beautifully rejected with a polite shake of the head. I sat on the other side of the bar, far enough away that she would not notice my observation and was again struck pleasantly with her posed and considered manner. She moved with a joyful nature only females who love to be watched possessed. Every mannerism and affection of her body seemed designed to titillate, to tease, and entice, yet it all seemed so natural. Involuntarily, I felt the corners of my otherwise cynical mouth rise into a grin. I had been correct in my first assumption. This fair creature bore more than a passing resemblance to my late cousin, both in appearance and demeanour. She too had known how to gain the upper hand in the battle of the sexes, using her wanton body to gain that which lesser lookers coveted, yet remaining skilfully out of reach, emotionally closed, her heart very much her own. I remembered watching her in her formative years and marvelling at the ease in which she played with men, her own victims, if you may. Now, again years later, watching this woman work the room into an effortless thrall was like an echo of the past, history physically realised once more. My smile grew wider, my tongue gingerly probing one slowly lengthening fang in anticipation. Her death would close a very influential chapter in my human life and take me one step closer to becoming the brutally efficient orchestrator of death I so desperately yearned to be. I longed to be rid of the vestiges of lingering and debilitating human emotions once and for all, a hundred years seemingly not long enough.

I watched for another hour as potential suitors tried and failed to gain her favour. It seemed there was a limitless supply of men willing to refill her glass whenever the need arose, willing to steady her arm as she stepped from her seat. The by now very inebriated college boys defended her seat fiercely against those who tried to take her throne, willing to be on hand just in case she happened to change her mind and take one of them up on their offer. Witnessing this display brought me much amusement and considerably heightened my thirst. I often enjoyed observing humanity unawares, particularly my prey, learning about who they appeared to be somehow made their deaths, their taste, all the more sweet. In fact, simply observing, seeming a part of something or somewhere yet remaining intangible and oblique, had given me a delicious thrill from the very beginning. Fortunate. There were none such as us who could have played the game with any more polished fervour. So I continued to patiently wait as I watched her, sipping from my glass of absinthe and smoothly rebuking the many offers I began to receive from the numerous females about me. I had made up my mind and tonight, there would be no alternatives. I wanted her, my cousin’s doppelganger, and I would not settle for less. I could not. The disappointment would have shamed me.

Time wore on, as it inevitably does, and soon those who had not managed to secure partners for the night finished their drinks, concluded their solo dances and took to the cold streets, leaving those who’d proven more fortunate to exchange numbers with the objects of their desires. I remained in my seat, as staff began to usher clientele from their respective circles towards the exit. The woman yawned making even this rudimentary necessary human function something of a performance and politely excused herself from the drunken students who were now being somewhat forcibly removed from the premises by the formidable looking doorman. She walked to the bar, placed the empty glass upon the counter and immediately struck up a carefree and easy conversation with the remaining barmaid who was busying cleaning. They knew each other, that much was obvious, the conversation light and familiar. No further surprises were heralded in the sound of her voice, she was young, seemingly naive and borderline arrogant. She knew her potential in the world. They continued their dialogue as numbers in the bar dwindled, leaving them, the doormen, a loving couple helping each other on with their coats and myself. No matter, it wouldn’t make my intentions any more difficult to achieve. I’d learned long ago in the early years following my Embrace to cloak myself from human eyes. It wasn’t so much a matter of disappearing or appearing to vanish as so much failing to register in their subconscious despite their eyes seeing my physical form and I would be impossible to recollect. To this day, I cannot fully explain how I achieve this. I simply will it so. A handy trick, as I was all too soon to find out, all those many years ago. So my presence here was not a consideration. I cared even less where and when they would find her. I would be long gone by then.

I finished my absinthe and stood from my seat, just as the doorman was making his way towards me. One look in my eyes was all it took for him to continue past me, as if I wasn’t even there. I turned and began to make my way around the bar, past the numerous empty tables, past the empty glasses, hollowed out and now devoid of worth, towards my own vessel of nourishment, towards the woman who was now finishing her conversation and heading towards the ladies room. I quickened my pace, noting with some irritation my lack of reflection in the bar mirror (yet another of my lingering human habits) and the barmaid who seemed to see me yet not, her face a mixture of confusion and fear for one brief second. She returned to her duties a moment later. I smiled confidently, pulled my eager hands from my pockets, my fingernails lengthening into talons, and slipped through the rest rooms closing door behind my prey so smoothly I made not a single sound.

My assault was fierce and sudden. The woman had barely turned to look at herself in the large mirror before I grabbed a fistful of her long hair and slammed her precious face into the unforgiving glass. Her nose and cheekbones broke immediately, blood splattering the spider webbed reflection that bore only her image. I hauled her backwards, her high heeled feet skittering upon the wet tiled surface beneath, and taking hold of her shoulders, pitched her through the unlocked door of the nearest cubicle. Pausing only to note that my mouth had now uncontrollably began to water and my fangs had reached their full sharpened length, I followed her in.

She lay half slumped upon the closed toilet, one leg trembling, the other folded backwards behind the toilet. Her head rested against the side partition of the adjacent cubicle, barely conscious and affectingly beautiful. A bright crimson star burst of blood decorated the wall above her where the back of her head had undoubtedly connected. I turned in the small space and locked the door behind us, just as she made to slip from her seat altogether. I gathered her into my arms before she hit the ground, causing a low gasp to escape her lungs, and tilted her to one side, allowing her head to hang upon my arm, exposing her neck. A quiver of thirst ignited alongside one side of my tensed jaw as I stared down at the pumping vein. My hands instinctively clutched her tighter, my talons digging through her dress and into her warm pliable flesh. My entire body shivered with the sheer anticipation, till I could stand it no longer. Hoisting her body up higher in my arms, I opened my mouth and drove my twin incisors deep through the fleshy meat into her pulsing jugular. Ecstasy flooded me at once, her blood as delicious as I had allowed myself to hope and involuntarily, I swooned against my own assault. Falling against the partition, my head light and dizzy with sensation, I held her ever tighter and drank as much of the red hot fluid as my throat could contain in one gulp. My hands had started shaking at some point and now it felt as if I were shaking my mortal drink greedily as if to get to the most valuable of nutrients hiding within her shell. My eyes had closed at the beginning and now I fought to open them, sure as I was that my dizzy spell could not last. Soon, far sooner than I could have wanted, I heard the comforting beat of her heart begin to slow and knew that I must break the contact, relinquish my connection and withdraw. The thought alone pained me. Finally, I succeeded in forcing my body to acquiesce to my will and with a harrowing reluctance I ripped my blood drenched mouth away from her ravaged neck. My equilibrium regained itself almost immediately. My hands ceased shaking. My eyes fluttered open.

She weighed next to nothing now in my rejuvenated arms. I could still hear her rapidly fading heart clearly in my ears, as I could hear bolts being thrown in the bar outside as doors were locked for the night. It wouldn’t be long before the doorman or the barmaid would begin their nightly check of the toilets. I sat the drained woman back once more upon the closed toilet and began to modestly readjust the skirt that had risen upon her pale slender legs. I stopped immediately and stood in frustration, my fang biting clean through my own lip in sudden anger. This was exactly the kind of human emotive gesture I so desperately wanted to shed, and here she was, my cousin twin, dying at my hand and yet my mortal habits seemed as eternally present as ever. Another death and my contradictory character remained thoroughly intact. It ignited a fire within my dead heart that almost threatened to sour the sweetness that had been the taking of her life.

A door slammed within the building and footsteps began to sound, drawing closer to our drama. I moved swiftly, exiting the cubicle and landing upon the window pane that overlooked the small public room from its vantage point a few metres or so high from the ground. Such distances were mere child’s play. I slipped the window lock and gliding through the gap, closed it silently. I paused there upon the outside ledge, looking back through the frosted glass where the woman still sat perched upon the toilet seat, her head to one side, her long hair falling about her like a crimson stained cloak, her skirt spread wide, revealing the black knickers beneath, one foot shoeless, the other twisted and a broad smile upon her dead features. I gasped in surprise as I continued to stare, her eyes unseeing and lifeless yet contradictory to the pleasurable smile that now adorned her blood splattered face. I couldn’t help it. With her brazen posture, unashamed nudity and that grin, it seemed she was mocking me, just like my cousin had done all those years before when I had confessed my undying love for her. I couldn’t believe it. She’d found me. All this time, she’d followed me through countless generations just so she could take the form of this creature and laugh at me, one last time. My sudden and overwhelming rage almost caused me to re-enter and rip her smiling head clean from her shoulders, but it was at that moment that the barmaid, about her nightly duties, entered the room, whistling a merry tune as she did so. I dropped into the side alley alongside the bar, my anger still pounding a tribal rhythm within my bloody veins as the scream ripped through the night, a scream of primal fear and unhinging sanity. It more than improved my mood. Casually straightening my jacket and wiping the excess blood from my mouth, I walked away.

I paused under a streetlight in the midst of London’s busy Soho district and allowed myself a little laugh. My humiliation once again at the hands of my cousin was fading fast and so too was the sweetness of the hunt that I had so looked forward to. I knew that the night was not yet over. There was always life to ruin, to steal, to breathe into my own veins. I couldn’t help but look forward to the next hundred years. I was immortal. My memories were not.

I pushed aside all negative thoughts as easily as I erased myself from mortal recollection and with an air of authority, only we the kindred possessed, strolled into the beating heart of London life, eager once more to murder my family again and again.

Twinkle, twinkle little vampire
how I wonder if you’re a liar.
Up above the town so high
like diamond in daylight sky.

Twinkle twinkle the undead
vegetarian an under fed.
never sleeping, sneaking in
bedroom windows, never sin.

Twinkle, twinkle little vampire
the epitome teenage desire.
Making out, then pushing away
will power keeping hunger at bay.

Twinkle, twinkle creature of the night
now at home in the daylight.
Up above the trees so high
make-believe that you can fly.

Twinkle, twinkle Peter Pan
never grows up as Wendy can.
Up above the sea so blue
Wendy, Peters looking for you.

Banging and fanging, shaking the bed
making out with the unholy dead.
Screaming and dreaming all through the night
the beast with two backs is never contrite.

Shaming and blaming, the neighbours stare
bumping uglies with the dead on a dare.
Slaking and making, a passion that swells
kicking her feet she can almost hear bells.

Thrashing and crashing, gasping for air
she screams her passion, pumping despair.
Drained and depleted, she stares in his eyes
dead to the world, just like regular guys.

Grace Mahoney

It was on the fourth night of his vigil outside her apartment that she returned home with a companion.

Clearly not quite able to believe his good fortune, the young boy whom she had chosen for the night chatted animatedly and at length, his arm slung casually across her slender shoulders as they made their way towards her apartment block. She entertained the boy’s humour and enthusiasm with well mannered grace and humility, smiling occasionally and even laughing when one of his stories reached it’s tiresomely predictable conclusion. He watched them, laughing and stroking one another unashamedly and a cold possessive streak of jealous ignited within the furnace of his heart.

Drawing his collars up against the icy wind, Dominic leaned against the street light and withdrew a cigarette from his pocket. He snapped a flame to life with a silver lighter in his left hand before re-pocketing it and checking his watch. It read 11.22pm. The girl had been gone for a little over an hour, hardly enough time for her to have gained an accurate impression of the boy she had chosen as a potential suitor. He took a drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke out, watching as it twirled and spiralled to frolic with the rushing winds that carried it upwards through the night light of the street lamp above him. He took in the sight of the full moon for a moment as his gaze drifted, noting it’s stark white brilliance against the dead of night, aware that his thoughts, like his focus, also desired to free roam.

Where had the girl headed to this night? Had the intention of offering herself to the first attractive stranger been her driving force? He grimaced inwardly, her character and everything he had placed upon her threatening to be destroyed in that instant. Could the girl he had watched and lusted after night after night, so beautiful, elegant and carefree, truthfully be so brazen? So foolhardy? So whorish? This was the last thing he had expected, so undeserving of the revelation was he that the reality of it didn’t quite seem real. He’d planned well, of that there was no doubt. From the moment he’d laid eyes on the girl supping with friends at a late night coffee house, he’d conspired to never let her leave his sight again, at least until the time was right. She was mesmerising, her youthful exuberant beauty startling in a conventional way he found noticeably lacking in others of similar ilk. In addition, she possessed a grace and nobility that he’d thought he’d seen the last of in New Orleans, yet here it was once more, the sensual presence and regal charm of those so comfortably at ease with their own sexuality immaculately embodied within this young girl. He’d wanted her immediately. She would be his and he would brook no refusal. However, time, if nothing else, had taught him self preservation and so he had decided to wait before indulging his lustful wanton fantasies. Despite the logic of the decision, it had been almost unbearable to endure, patience not listed among many of his virtues and now it seemed he had missed his opportunity entirely. For three nights, he’d stood underneath the window to where he’d ascertained her bedroom lay and fancied that he could hear her breathing, comforted in the fact that she lay dreaming less than only a few feet above him. The notion that someone, the boy who even now was nuzzling her neck as she attempted to insert her key into the door, would lay with her tonight in that very bed in that very room was threatening to overwhelm him. It could not happen. It would not happen.
The door to her apartment closed and lights flickered into existence. He dragged on the cigarette again and hunched his shoulders against the cold, eyes narrowing into thin steely slits. From his vantage point across the street, he could see her in the kitchen, her back to the small shuttered window, her jacket being drawn clear of her shoulders. From the way they were heaving, she appeared to be laughing. The boy, as if aware of scrutiny, remained hidden from view, preferring to stand shrouded in the darkness of the adjacent hallway whilst continuing their exchange. Their communication was lively and punctuated with smiles and laughter. A punch of bitter and resentful bile rose in the back of his throat as he watched this flirtatious behaviour. It was making him progressively more uncomfortable by the second to observe how freely they conversed with one another so soon after their initial meeting…

…and then it happened. As if for his benefit alone, the boy stepped out of the darkness towards her, his expression one of pure unrestrained longing and placed his hands upon her waist, leaning her back against the work counter in full view of the window. They stood there, framed in the harsh fluorescent light, and came together suddenly, their mouths opening to one another hungrily. That sick familiar feeling of frustration and rage, coupled with the hunger she always invoked in him, began to boil in Dominic’s stomach and angrily, he inhaled the remainder of the cigarette and threw it to the ground, crushing it under heel. The boy’s actions were frenzied and clumsy and he pawed at the girl like she was a slab of meat. In contrast, her administrations were precise and articulate, her hands slow and steady to his uneducated fumbling. For much of the younger generation, ambition and appetite always outweighed skill and experience and at once, Dominic felt a seething and sudden rush of hatred for the young whelp. This downright disgusting display was offensive to every moral he held dear. This was not how this girl was to be treated! Had he not a shred of decency or respect? Back in his day, there was only way to deal with ruffians of such calibre. It was this thought and the answer that it inevitably brought that made him straighten from the lamp post and start to stride his way towards the apartment, his eyes never once leaving the framed lovers.

He was halfway across the street when the girls’ first scream shattered the calm dead of night.

The boy had her bent over the counter, her hair falling into the sink in bloodied ringlets as he lowered his mouth inevitably, teasingly to her neck. Blood lined his fingertips as they insistently pressed into the soft meat of her forearms, forcing her arms downwards. Her thin frame thrashed beneath his weight as he pressed down upon her, trapping her against the counter. His eyes blazed like wildfire, his teeth lengthening now at an alarming rate, the brightness of his pupils challenging the light thrown by the kitchen’s bulb, his fangs defying the hovering midnight moon to match their bone white neutrality.

His mouth, widening with every second, was less than centimetres from the girl’s freshly exposed jugular when a glass suddenly exploded over his head.

The boy spun to face Dominic’s rage fuelled offensive as the girl slipped from his grasp and ran screaming into the hallway. He attempted chase and was met halfway by a roaring Dominic who threw all of his body weight into a squarely aimed punch that connected solidly with the bridge of his nose, shattering it instantly. Howling with pain and anger, the boy charged a second time, barely giving Dominic a chance to withdraw his fist and the two combatants crashed to the cold linoleum floor in a tussling heap, the boy taking instant advantage to mount.

Hissing and screeching with hell bent fury, fangs bared and yellow eyes blazing, the boy clawed ferociously at Dominic’s fending arms, leaving deep ragged tears in the worn leather, furious he was unable to drive home a successful strike. It was as the boy reared back once more, howling like a world weary wolf, ready to unleash an assault of savagery not yet attempted, that Dominic wrestled the boy around the midsection and hauled him up off his knees. He staggered under the boy’s counterbalancing weight and drove his head further down to one side to avoid the blows that the boy was unleashing before taking the strain.

With a tremendous burst of strength borne of desperation, Dominic barrelled forwards and launched the boy headfirst against the metal shuttered kitchen window. The portion of glass spider-webbed instantly, the thin metal shutters buckling under the combined weight. The boy realised the intention all too late and tried to wrest himself free of Dominic’s grip but the bigger man was simply too strong. Backing up a second time, Dominic charged again and succeeded in pitching his attacker straight through the third storey window. The window exploded on contact, glass and metal shutters shattering and folding like plastic and paper and the boy sailed free of his grip, hurtling over the edge and out. With an intake of breath, Dominic watched as the boy’s body crunched into the asphalt with bone juddering force, his limps splaying outwards like a rag doll robbed of it’s strings. The momentum rocked the body a few times before stillness pervaded and the blood started to pool.

Heaving with exertion, Dominic turned and sagged against the counter, his knees trembling beneath him. He slid down the counter till he half sat on the glass covered linoleum, his breath tearing from him in strained gasps. The girl could still be heard sobbing in her bedroom from down the hall, a strangled desperation half borne of a mind rocked upon it’s very hinges. The sound of her sobs came distantly, along with the noise of movement from outside the window. Dominic stood warily and looked over the window sill in time to see the boy get to his feet and start to run down the street, one leg kicking outwards haphazardly and a loosely jointed arm swinging at his side. The sound of the girl’s cries getting louder finally drew him away.

She sat huddled upon the bed, her duvet drawn tightly around her trembling form. He stood motionless by the doorway, unable to prevent himself from taking in the sight of her bedroom like a blind man granted sight, unable to resist appraising her fragile and vulnerable beauty as tears wracked their way through her. Whether she was aware of his presence, Dominic could not say, but he held no intentions of intruding until she was ready. He did not wish, after all this time, to unsettle her. So he stood and watched her cry for what seemed like an eternity. Despite his eagerness to touch her, to be with her, her loneliness at this moment seemed insurmountable and he wasn’t sure if his presence would hinder or help. She looked up at him suddenly, her eyes red raw with tears, her face wet and flushed, her hair falling about her face in sodden strands and smiled. It was a smile of gratitude and it was meant purely for him. He inhaled deeply, basking in the warmth of it’s presence and nodded his acceptance.

It was only at this juncture was he aware that her full length mirror which hung adorning her wardrobe door was half ajar and facing him. From her vantage point on the bed, his lack of reflection would go unnoticed.
‘We’re not all like that.’
He whispered, loud enough that the tone of his voice seemed to reverberate throughout the small interior of her apartment.

Amanda could have sworn she’d glimpsed silver at the corners of the stranger’s mouth in the moment before he vanished, could have sworn she’d caught light dancing in those green eyes…

…the thought evaporated almost instantly as her own eyes alighted upon the blood that had smeared itself upon the back of her hand as it sat trembling upon her bare knee, trembling and shaking as if some unforeseen force had taken hold…

Swan Song is the debute vampire novella by Jevron Mc Crory available from ebookundead priced £2.99

The midnight Madonna is skipping around

waiting, watching, listening for the sound.

The sound of a child crying in the night

breaking its delicious heart, without respite.

.

The midnight Madonna takes her family

from lost souls setting them free.

Dancing in moonlight a ghostly pied piper

scooping up innocence all around her.

.

The bloofer lady is hunting again

bringing sadness the Madonna of pain.

Keep your children from her hungering thirst

and ancient blood that’s perpetually cursed.

.

The midnight Madonna is dancing with glee

clapping her hands she is so happy.

Nighttime mother that gives succour to none

so watch for her coming and run children run.

Brighter than light, flying through the night
twisting and turning in the pale moonlight.
Away from the city, the world and its pity
his solitary soul, soars beyond petty.

Dancing on air, in death without care
scouring the world with unblinking stare.
He rotates, back flips then waits
thankful finally, for the twisted fates.

Still she stands, plans and waits till he lands
the vampire’s most loyal and loving of fans.
Joyous a quiver, with a delicious shiver
she waits for her nocturnal dream to deliver.

Swooping from the sky, he lands near by
sweeping her into his arms with a satisfied sigh.
He twirls her around, lifts her off the ground
as her pulse he’s found, she dies with no sound.

The light in the night shines ever so bright,
as he drinks in the sight of her body all white.
He dances on air with never a care
his dinner date dead, well life isn’t fair.