Lies were the only thing that I’ve been told. They do exist, they are real, and you have every right to be afraid.

I died, a long time ago or so I thought. I wasn’t sick, and I wasn’t elderly. Actually, I was only twenty years old. A man killed me. Someone who I thought loved me, who I could depend on, took my life. I don’t remember how, it happened so fast. I only remember waking up on the floor and saw my mother…dead in the next room.
The police had come. I ran to them, I had to tell them I knew who the killer was, but they just ignored me, or did they. I tried to get their attention. I tapped the shoulder of one… but couldn’t. My hand just disappeared into his body. Horrified, I went into panic mode. Am I dead? If so, why am I still here then?

I went over to the hall mirror. Someone had told me that ghosts don’t reflect. Odd that I should think of that, but never the less, I eased my way to its front. I didn’t look up, not right away. I was afraid to see what I might see, or not see. Slowly, I lifted my eyes. The tears came flooding out. There in front of me was…nothing. Disbelief and an overwhelming urge to break the mirror to pieces came into play. I ran outside. The rain, like tear drops, ran down my face and soaked my clothes quickly.

He stood across the street, this stranger. He looked like he could see me, as if he knew me. This familiarity bothered me greatly, but I couldn’t place him. We stared at each other for what seemed like hours, when really five minutes had gone by.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s impolite to stare?” His attitude was smug.

Still too stunned to speak I just shook my head no.

He crossed the street oblivious to the car that was coming toward him. I went to scream out but he leapt over it and continued toward me.

“I said it’s impolite to stare!” Glaring into my eyes, which held me steadfast, they changed to black and ominous.

I was intrigued, and yet, I thought if I relaxed just slightly I’d faint right on the spot.

“I-I’m sorry, but you were staring at me first.” I blew it. I got too bold and realized my mistake. My head banged against the brick wall. Next thing I realized was I could no longer feel the ground. This man, this creature grabbed my neck and hoisted me up.

“You impudent piece of meat, how dare you accuse me. Do you know who I am? What I am capable of doing? Do you?”

Still hanging from his grip I struggled to get the words out, but all I could say was, “No…”

In one swift movement, was thrown across the street. My body slammed against the building. Pain ensued immediately and I gasped for breath. I looked around for anything I could use as a weapon, but saw nothing. Every moment I made sent shooting pain through my body. It was so bad that I wanted to pass out, but feared for my life. He came for me again. Still dazed I tried once more to get away; he just laughed and stomped on my leg. I heard a crack and then again, more pain. I screamed out for mercy.

“Going somewhere are we? I don’t think so. I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet. You still haven’t answered my question. Do you know who I am?”

Why was he after me? What did I do to deserve such torture? I didn’t care anymore, I wanted to die, the pain was too unbearable.
“I don’t think you do know me. I don’t think you appreciate all that I’ve done for you, all I promised to do. Such a pity. I’ve wasted precious time on someone like you, someone who doesn’t deserve anything…not even life.” He stared down at me with this pathetic look of caring. I wanted to spit in his face.

I was seething; I didn’t deserve to be treated like a piece of dirt. I scooted myself up to a sitting position. My body throbbed with each move, but I didn’t care. This was my chance to have my say.
“H-how…I’m already dead! Why in the hell do you speak of life as if I’m alive!”

“Oh, but you are alive, I heard your heart pounding in my head and the smell, you are wonderfully fragrant. Oh, so fragrant, that I thirst for none other but you.” His eyes gleamed at the words he spoke, like a child with a bag of candy; the only difference was I was his candy.

This was my end, I resolved myself to that fact. Pushing my back up against the building, I shivered from the cold, it reminded me of him, this stranger. I looked to see if anyone was around who could help, but then I remembered…I’m dead so why am I afraid. I glared at him, I hated how he felt his superiority was to be honored. The hate was like a poison in my mouth, it needed to come out.

“I don’t reflect! I…I, my mother she died before me I saw her body on the floor, just a few feet away! You speak of life, there is no…more…life! Leave me alone, I have done nothing to you. Nothing!” It started slow, but as the poisoned words left my lips they flowed faster and faster. I thrilled at each intensity I gave them. I was in control now.

“You fool. Don’t you feel your own heart? Don’t you feel the fear in it?” He bent down and grabbed my hand and placed it on my chest.

“How can this be? I saw, I know what I saw! It wasn’t a dream…was it?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time and then I’m through. Through with you and all you stand for.”

I didn’t want to speak. I was afraid that if I did, I’d be thrown again .

“Answer me!” he bellowed.

“I-I don’t know.” Stammering out of fear I cringed as I spoke. Every word was like a death sentence.

His eyes had changed to amber, but now, now that his angry got the best of him, they blackened once more, and his lips curled over his teeth, exposing fangs. A low guttural noise came from his throat as he hunched over, ready for the kill.

“I am your father and this is all but a dream.”

The next thing I knew someone was calling my name. I awoke to find myself on the floor…again. My hand shook as I moved it to my neck. A bandage was there, taped. I dug my fingers in, yanked it off, and felt the two holes that I knew would be there….I screamed.

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.

My Guest Arrives

Ah, the sound of carriage wheels against cobbles, finally my guest arrives. Putting down my first edition volume of “Wake Not The Dead” by Johann Ludwig Tieck, I rise from my chair and cross to the window. Far below me in the courtyard I see a young man alight from my ancestral coach. As I eye him up the way an eagle stares at its prey from atop its mountain perch, I am not surprised to find that every muscle in my powerful body is tensed like a coiled spring. How easy it would be for me to drop the two hundred or so feet to the cobbles and have his throat ripped out before he even has the time to blink. To feel the hot, sweet, velvet taste of his life’s blood as it passes between my tingling lips and down my eager throat.

Calm yourself Blutsauger! Mentally I reprimand myself, as I cannot think that way, long gone are the days when my kind could quite happily eat their guests without fear of reproach. Sighing softly and cutting short my reminiscing over the old days, I check my attire. I will tell you now, just because I have walked this earth for the best part of eight hundred years and I hanker for the old days, doesn’t mean I am trapped in the past. I am very well up on the current affairs of the world and, more often than not, I am quite at home in t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, but my guest I fear, is looking for something more. . .traditional.

However, dressed in all my finery, a red Chinese silk open necked shirt, finest Italian leather pants and patent leather shoes from Knightsbridge in London, I’ve been told that I look like a modern day rock star. Fabulous. I make my way down the hall, ready to make my entrance on the main staircase. It’s a pity I have no reflection, for I’m sure I cut a devilishly dashing figure.

I watch from the shadows as Clove, my manservant come butler, shows our guest into the cavernous and ornate hall below. My guest looks nervously about him and I can tell by the sound of his breathing and the way that his heart beats that he is both impressed and nervous. From my vantage point, I can even see the slight flare of his nostrils and the dilation of the pupils in his hazel eyes. I lick my lips softly as each major vein and artery in his pale neck seems to stand out. My belly growls and I actually make the motion to leap, to attack, until I mentally reprimand myself again. Were I not already dead and so have no need to inflate my defunct lungs, I would take a deep, steady breath, to calm myself. Instead, I hitch an easy, carefree smile upon my handsomely rugged, clean cut features and lope with a graceful gait, down the staircase. He turns and spots me as I am half way down.

“Ah, Herr Stone, good of you to have come. An easy journey I hope?” I reach the bottom of the stairs and offer him a perfectly, manicured hand. He takes it and I can tell he is impressed by my slender but strong fingers and the paleness of my alabaster flesh. His skin is warm and slightly sweaty as he taps his heels together and bows courteously.

“It’s good of you to see me Your Highness,” he replies in perfect German.

“Ah, I see you are well versed in royal protocol as well as fluent in my native tongue,” I say and his cheeks flush a little.

“I spent a year in Fussen a couple of years back, researching an assignment I was on at the time.”

“And this is where you learned German?”

“No Highness. I actually learned the language while studying A-Levels at Sixth Form College.”

“And the royal protocol?” I ask him.

“Ah. . .” he answers, and he blushes again. “I…er… I did a little homework before I flew out Highness. I wanted to know how to address a personage of the German Royal Family so that I didn’t offend you or embarrass myself.” My guest explains and I can’t help but warm to him.

“Well, let me tell you Herr Stone that your lessons have not been in vain and you have conducted yourself before me, admirably.” I incline my head slightly as I finish talking and he copies the gesture. “Now, for the official welcome of my homeland.” I pull myself up to my full and considerable height, knowing how impressive I look. “Welcome to my home Herr Stone. Enter of your own free will and please, when you go, leave behind some of the happiness you have brought with you.”

“It is a great honour to be here Your Highness.” He bows again and I warm even more to his impeccable manners.

“Well, perhaps you would like to freshen up before dinner?”

“It was quite a tiring journey,” he replies. I clap my hands and Clove appears.

“Show Herr Stone to his room so that he may freshen up before dinner.” Clove bows and takes my guest’s suitcase and hand luggage.

“This way sir.” Clove moves to the foot of the stairs and I watch my guest follow.

“I’ll see you in an hour in the dining room. We shall talk then,” I tell him.

“Thank you Highness,” he replies.

“Please, let us dispense with formalities Herr Stone. You may address me simply as Blutsauger.” He nods and smiles and follows Clove up the stairs.

Being dead, I have no need, nor desire for food anymore, but I do enjoy watching others eat and Herr Stone seemed to enjoy his dinner of roast suckling pig and all the trimmings. He particularly seemed to enjoy the part where he washed it down with the finest claret from my cellar. I regard him closely over my clasped hands.

“Tell me Herr Stone, why exactly was I contacted by Vamplit Publishing?”

“Gaynor, my editor, is interested in producing a monthly column in our e-mag. As you probably know, our website is dedicated to vampires and she thought it would be great if we could interview a real life vampire as it were. Please forgive the pun.”

“And what made her come to me?” I ask.

“Well to be honest High…sorry, Blutsauger, there are vampires and there are vampires and then, there is Prince Blutsauger. Forgive me sir, but your name is legend. I have travelled extensively and I have yet to go to a country in Europe where your name is not known and where your hospitality is not renowned.” He blushes again but I revel in his compliments. “To be perfectly honest, we didn’t know whether you’d grant our interview but Gaynor said, ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’ It happens to be her favourite saying and when Gaynor wants, Gaynor usually gets.”

“And quite right too, my friend. She seems to be a woman after my own heart. But tell me, what is it you actually wish of me?” He puts down his glass and studies me. His confidence in my presence seems to be growing, though I expect the wine has helped a little.

“We want to put the vampire’s side on record. Vampires, as I’m sure you are aware, have had a bad press over the years and we wish to put the record straight. We feel our readers and authors would love to read it from the vampires’ point of view. What it’s like to live between the living and the dead. What drives you, apart from blood and do you consider your state a gift or a curse.” I nod and mull this over.

“Perhaps my friend, before I tell you about myself, it might be, shall we say, helpful, to tell you about some of my kith and kin throughout history. I am well read and I have come across some atrocious and abysmal writings purporting to be factual about my species. Were we human, I dare say we could have sued for slander a thousand times over. So, in order to understand me, I think you must first understand my kith and kin.”

“That would be even better than Gaynor and I envisaged,” he tells me excitedly. He reaches into his pocket and brings out a small electronic gadget. “Would you mind if I used this?” he asks, showing me what I recognise as a small recording device.

“By all means, use it.” I tell him. “But it will be of little use to you.”

“Oh?” he replies, his eyebrows arching.

“Just as a vampire casts no shadow or reflection in a mirror, neither can our image be captured by camera or our voices on recordings.”

“I never thought of that.” He looks a little sheepish as he responds, like a school boy who has just been caught in the midst of some misdemeanour.

“Please, feel free to write down what I tell you. You do know shorthand I take it?”

“Well, it’s been a while, but I’m sure it will come back to me.” I wait while he goes to fetch the necessary tools from his room.

When he returns, I am waiting for him in the Great Hall holding a heavy candelabra. He stands before me, a little uneasily, for I am scrutinising him closely, forgetting for the moment how intense my vampire stare is.

“Forgive Randall, I did not mean to stare, but is so rare that we have guests these days.”

“Not at all Highness,” he responds. His manners really are impeccable.

“I thought I would take you on a brief tour of these hallowed halls. Every wall, every stone, every corridor, has a tale to tell. Take this hall for instance. It was here in 1241 that a great ancestor of mine, Duke Francis Bonner, cut the throat of his wife, the Lady Eleanor Bonner, before sending what was left of her carcass down to the kitchens to be served at supper.” He blanches and I can’t help but let a cruel smile play along my lips. I can feel his discomfort as he imagines the scene. I can almost see the pictures as they play in his head.

“Here,” I point to the double doors, shadowed by the curve and sweep of my elegant staircase. “This is the…well, perhaps it is better if I show you.” He follows close behind me and his footfalls echo, bouncing off before becoming ensconced within the stones forever. I say his footfalls, for there is no sound from mine. As we cast no reflection and, as our voices cannot be recorded, neither can our footfalls be heard. It makes hunting so much easier. I push open the doors and bid him wait as I go around and light the candles in the wall brackets. Glancing back, I see his eyes grow wide in wonder. At last, I face him and I can feel the excitement radiating from him, just as I can feel the heat that comes from a flame. His mind is noisy and crowded with the myriad questions he has for me.

“May I present…The Grand Ballroom.” He bows in a gesture of homage as he steps into the room.

“This is a Mansart,” he utters, almost breathlessly. I, in turn raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Why yes, it was Jules Hardouin Mansart himself who designed it back in 1680. You are an expert in historical architecture?” I ask him, extremely intrigued by his knowledge. He shakes his head casually as he spins on the spot, taking in every detail.

“Not really,” he replies. “We had a trip from college to the Palace of Versailles and it is extremely similar to the Hall of Mirrors that Louis XIV had built.”

“Ah, poor Louis,” I intone softly.

“You knew him?” he asks me in surprise.

“Oh yes, I knew him,” I tell him with a sardonic twist of the lips. “He was a particular favourite of mine.” I run a hand over one of the thirty two golden cherubim that supported the crystal candelabras around the room. “I remember when this room used to vibrate with life and merriment. Ah, the parties we used to have then.” He notices the faraway look in my eyes, the sadness in my tone and I feel the need to explain.

“When I was first endowed with the…gift, I am afraid that I let the thirst get the better of me and I rather indulged myself amongst family and friends. Oh, we still held masquerade balls, but I’m afraid these beautiful mirrors were too much of a reminder for some, of a different, long forgotten life. Interests waned and the parties dropped off.” I look wistfully at the mirrors, seeing only Randall’s reflection, the rest of the room and the crystal chandeliers coated with over two centuries of filth and grime. Even the frescoes so full of colour and vitality are now dulled with a film of dust. “You know, it was in here, during one of our grand balls in 1611, before the masterpiece you now see, when we received word that my cousin, Erzebet Bathori of Hungary was under arrest for murder.”

“Really?” he asks, clearly impressed.

“Hm,” I respond, dreamily. “Well, if you would care to follow me Randall, I shall show you what you really want to see, the history and folklore of my race.” With that, I lead him back into the Grand Hall.

When I contacted the mysterious writer Randall Stone and asked if he would write a regular column on vampires here on vamplit.com I wasn’t sure what we would be getting. I gave him a free hand and his only remit was to produce an informative, interesting column without taking risks with his own neck. Well after reading the first installment, where he visits the world a renowned vampire to get his point of view I’m waiting with baited breath for the next installment of The Blutsauger Chronicles by Randall Stone.

‘Before I found you, David, in all the world I had had only one friend and he was without a doubt, the kindest, most gentle man.  He liked women and their conversation, not keen on cats though, well neither am I, so we were suited.  He wouldn’t eat my cooking, but I can’t eat my cooking either, so I wasn’t insulted.  We loved the same films, hated the same music and were both night people.  All my life I have been fascinated by all things nocturnal, as you know.  I love to watch clouds drift across the face of a full moon or sit on a beach at the darkest part of the night, listening to the sound of the sea gently rushing up against the sand.’ Pausing, I look out on the moonlight and shift slightly on my comfy old couch before continuing. David had promised to listen to my story without interruption and I hope he will. I will tell him once and then, if he wishes, we will move on.

‘You know me I’m just this dumpy, little female with frizzy hair who couldn’t change a plug, a technophobe through and through and he was…’ I stop and David tries to deny my description of myself and I smile. He can’t make me change and anyway I like me exactly as I am. I prepare to continue, forcing myself to focus on the past. ‘How to describe him, I pick my words with caution because you will think I’m exaggerating. You will for a moment think I’ve lost my mind David, but I haven’t.’ I look into David’s eyes and know he understand me, but still I wonder if that will be enough.

‘He was amazingly tall, dark and handsome, with skin that was perfect, without flaw, and eyes of the palest blue, so blue in fact that they seemed almost without colour.  I should really stop now, but his body was just all male, perfect and I loved the way he made me feel safe, as if the world would be no match for him, if anyone tried to hurt me.  I’m not the kind of woman that sets great store on looks, I can’t afford to with my non-descript mousy hair and slightly crooked nose. No matter how many times he said that my nose was cute, I was never going to believe him.  I know what I looked like on the outside; his looks set him apart, mine were just average.  Yet still, I secretly hoped he would want me as more than his friend.’ I say, feeling uncomfortable. The man beside me is hanging on every word, looking into my eyes and just for a moment I regret starting this story. I do regret the past and wish the future wasn’t so certain. So I continue telling David about him.

‘One hour to sunset and I was tense. He always arrived on my doorstep just after dark with a DVD, half a ton of chocolate and smile so big I was almost blinded, but tonight he wanted to tell me something.  Every week, since we had met, Friday night had been movie night.  He picked the movie and he must have liked me, because every once in a while we got a chick flick. The only rule was no horror, we agreed to this after one particularly gory vampire shocker.  We didn’t enjoy it at all, so no horror films.  We sat on my ancient couch and talked and laughed, sometimes when it was cold we snuggled, just a little, he said I had the coldest feet in the world.  So every friday night he came over and the night wasn’t lonely. We stayed in and that was fine with both of us.  I had never been to his home, he’d never invited me, so sometimes I wondered if he was hiding something.  We never really talked about our lives, I wished….Wishing never gets you anywhere and everyone has regrets. I’m sure if he was married, with half a dozen kids, I’d have known.  Probably.  He wasn’t married with kids, after all I’m as careful as a girl can be and choose my friends very carefully.’ I say and it is absolutely true. I, like many females of a certain age, may be tempted by men who are not free, but I never cross the line, complications of that kind would destroy me.’ I pause and hope David understands, because I’ve become so hungry, for his love I need him to feel empathy.

‘He knew I didn’t really like loud music and the “club scene” from our first meeting.  I had decided that a single, twenty-first century woman should be able to go out and paint the town red on a Friday night on her own.  Having been single for what felt like a century I just wanted to find some company, okay male company, and so I bought appropriate clothes and I hobbled off to a club I’d heard a man in the supermarket talking about.  Needless to say it didn’t work out well, the music was too loud, the club too hot and the men too coarse for my taste.  I sat in a corner debating whether or not to leave and he found me.  I almost sighed out loud, not that he would have heard me over the thump of the base, this was the one I’d been waiting for.  He was so perfect and those pale eyes seemed to bore into my very soul.  I was never able to think straight when I looked into his eyes, but I didn’t care. I was thirsting for companionship and someone I could connect with.’ I stand and walk to the open window to breath in the night air. I feel its chill invade me instantly and I shudder.

‘Then one night I heard his distinctive knock at my door.  I knew as opened the door something had changed.  Gone was the light up the world smile and the obligatory DVD and chocolate were missing too.  Nothing about him was normal, his eyes were red, his skin almost irridescently pale and he was staring at me with such a hungry look in his eyes.  Just the sight of him frightened me.’ Even standing by the window, knowing that David is sitting on the couch, I feel a little scared, a little lost in the past. Perhaps, by telling David, I can banish the other face forever.

‘We sat and he held my hand and stared at the floor, composing himself to tell me his secret.  To finally let me fully into his life. Then my friend told me his secret and I must have apppeared shocked. He told me about his sister and their childhood. Finally he told me she was dead and he was alone in the world except for me.’ I look up at the stars as I speak and in the stars I find some peace. Truely all I’ve ever wanted was peace and not to be alone. I touch the glass with a finger and feel the cold against my finger tip.

‘I asked him what had happened, but he wouldn’t tell me. I realised he was in shock and I told him that he did’t have to do this, I did’t need to know anything.  I wished I could think of something to say to take all the hurt away.  I know what I am and I know I don’t do emotional too well.  I just never know the right thing to say.’ Smilling gently at David as I touch the night sky through the glass with my finger tip pointing to the stars.

‘I shifted a little so I could see his beautiful translusent eyes, to drown in their calm.  I knew that for as long as I wanted, I could and would have him in my life.  Then I saw something in his eyes that was new.  As he looked at me, I felt for the first time in his company truely alive.’ I say, looking at David and their faces merge in my mind.

‘Well my friend the vampire, where do we go from here he asked me and smiled. I had thought my secret safe still, as I had with you until tonight David.’ I turn from the window and the night to face David. ‘Remember, David, that I have spent forever checking to see if my friends have flowers or a stake behind his back.’ He may have handed me roses as he arrived, but I know he has a stake in his coat. I nearly laugh aloud at the thought of asking David if that’s a stake in his pocket or if he’s just pleased to see me.

‘I do not trust easily, time is nothing to me.  This life I have is longer than most could bare.  I have lived lifetimes on my own.  I have homes all over the country and I move from one to another in each lifetime.  I have no memory of any family and have never met anyone else like me. Trusting people has never seemed the sensible option to me, David.’ I watch his hands, hoping he doesn’t reach for the stake in his pocket.

‘Let me finish my story, David, then decide. Anyway he and I were at the point of no return so I listen as he talked his way into my life. The only person I’ve ever connected with, other than my sister, is you and while my sister was alive, she was my responsibility.  Now I have nothing to go home to, tonight or any night.  No one will care if I don’t turn up for work on Monday.  I can finally be where I want to be and do what I want to do he said, looking at me with such hope that I could have cried, that is if I could cry.’

‘I stood and walked to the window, the darkness is always comforting and I remember smiling at the thought of having someone again.  Of sharing my life and not being alone just for the short time he had left and that made me pause; only another forty years or so and I would be alone again. I always end up alone David.’ I say, hoping he will understand, but dreading the outcome whether he does or not.

‘If you share my life,’ I told him, ‘you’d better know the downside.  I don’t go out in direct sunlight, ever. I live only in the night, daylight is like poison to me.  I don’t sleep in a coffin, but I do sleep alone and I don’t have a problem with crosses or garlic.  I do however need to drink blood to live and, although I don’t feed often, I do think you should know the downside of my life.  I have never killed anyone and people don’t remember when I’ve fed.  I have never fed from you and I never will.  Most importantly I cannot make you like me. Then I asked if there was anything else he need to know? In that moment I turned and he was there holding me tight. He asked me if I would ever leave him and I told him truthfully, that he would never be alone again.

‘Then for the first time he kissed me.  I might just say here that I’m a bit toothy and this may have shocked him a little.  Credit where credit is due, only the smallest of hesitation and he opened my mouth with his tongue and plunged in.  I could smell the life in him, taste his humanity and I was in awe for the passion I felt in him.  Shocked by the love I felt for him in my heart that barely beats.  Then the kiss ended and nose to nose he whispered to me, “My friend the vampire.”‘

‘That’s it, David, conventional happy ending for an unconventional couple.  We stayed together all of his life and we laughed for most of it.  Any sadness in him evaporated the day we left and started a new life at my farm in Wales. He loved the life and when we moved on I know he missed the isolation, but I can only last a few years on animal blood and then my thirst becomes unbearable.  We moved a lot as he aged, but he did so love to travel and with the modern world came more freedom for me.’ I say, wondering how I sound to David, will he believe me. After all David is the first man to bring a stake into my home for two centuries maybe David will be the first to catch me in the lie.

‘When he finally died, we had spent a meagre fifty years together.  Too short a time, for such happiness.  I don’t regret a single minute of this sadness.  I only regret that I could not keep him forever.’  I finish my story and turn to a David sitting on a similar old couch, staring at me with similar wide cow eyes hanging on every word, just as they always did. This is the defining moment in our relationship, will he choose life and try to kill me or like all the others would he sucumb to the lure of the vampire. Either way David, like all those sad, unsuspecting men before him is mine.

‘Well, do you still want to be with me, David? As I’ve told you I can’t give you anything.’  I say in all honesty, I never make false promises. I don’t like being a vampire, honestly, but if you believe that you’ll believe anything.

Not answering he kisses me.  They always do, always shocked by the sharp teeth that strokes their tongues.  Always shocked as they feel the teeth I hide from the world nip them gently.  A prelude, a taste of things to come.  I’m weak, I know it and if my fantasy of a life lived without death, their death is just that, where’s the harm.  I let them believe that I offer them friendship and companionship without end and in a way I do because they are dead from the moment they meet me.  For I stalk my prey well and choose only those who suit my purpose, my appetite.  Sad lonely men, ones with a little money to keep me and no one to miss them when they suddenly disappear. I am always their friend, their life feeds me, their blood sustains me, but sadly only in a limited way. After a while, like a dieter fallen off the wagon, sips and tastes when they visit are just not enough. I need to feast, to lose myself in an orgy of feeding to watch the terror and gorge myself on the fear raging uncontrolled in their veins. I love the taste of fear, its almost sexual.  The head rush alone is too die for.

Sadly David doesn’t stand a chance, before he can use the stake, I have savaged his jugular vein with my sharpe little teeth and lapping frantically, he tastes like nectar.  His eyes wide with shock lock with my now blood red eyes. For the first time he sees me as I really am. A dark angel healing him from life’s sorrow. His body slumps, his eyes glaze and I know a moments hesitation, should I save some for later. Then it’s too late, like a yummy chocolate milkshake, he’s finished and so am I.

Why do I do this to myself?  I could just hunt the night and take what I want without once having to talk to them.  Well I do eat out occasionally,but I like to know where my food comes from. I have no end, that I know of, and so I get bored.  I like to play with my food, pick at it a bit and then finish with an orgy or gluttony as I drain it dry.  Fill myself with everything not just its blood. but its adoration, love, fear and finally hopelessness.  I tried to talk this one out of it, but I do so hate to be alone.  I do so hate to be hungry. I’m to full to clean up after dinner, so I put on a film and promise myself I’ll clear away after it’s finished.

By Grace Mahoney

A Beautiful Day (250 words)

Yesterday I was with my wife, for the first time since the accident. There had been pain, and hospital stays, and heartbreak, so I was determined that it would be a day of wonder and cheer now that she had been released.

I woke early and prepared her breakfast in bed. The eggs were too runny, I admit, but the toast was golden brown, and we took turns nibbling on it until our lips met. That lasted until the orange juice spilled, staining the sheets. So we showered. Together. I must admit that I had missed this.

Neither of us wanted to be near a car that day, so we decided to walk everywhere. We went to the movies, catching the matinee (I didn’t like it much, but she laughed at the antics on the screen, so I said nothing). We took a picnic on the beach. I built a sand castle, but the surf washed it all away, so we just walked and watched the sun set.

Later, we had dinner, scallops and shrimp. The wine was too bubbly, but we didn’t care about that. We didn’t care about anything but the company. Just ourselves, together at last.

That night, in bed, I asked her what she wanted. “I want to go on like this, forever.” She said. “Please don’t wake up. I don’t want to die again.”

But the phone rang, and I started, and realized I was in bed alone. And I began to weep.

By Anson Bremer

Screeching

Shrieking

Howling

Whipping

Wind tears at my flesh

Rocks tear at my fists

As I climb the spire

Higher, higher,

Listening to the wailing,

A thousand damned souls

Buried in the rock face I

Pull myself up.

Keep going.

Must keep going.

Can’t stop,

So close.

Pulling

Grasping

Reaching

Higher

Higher I climb

Over the faces

Buried in rock

Mother, father

Friends, teachers

Everyone

Can’t let any of them

Stop me now

He’ll get me,

That ghastly leaping thing

On the rocks below

Clad in rags

And a dead man’s skin

With empty eyes

And a skeletal sneer

Below his writhing silver hair

Up I go

Up I go

Ignore the pain

The sudden whiff of

Blood, tears, sweat,

The pleas of faces

Buried in the rocks

And that rasping whisper,

It’s not a race

You can ever win

There is no place to go.

Almost there.

Almost there!

I grab the edge,

Pull myself to the top

Of the heap and look around

And there’s nothing there

But shrieking wind

And jagged rocks

And the thing.

There’s no place to go.

Except down again

Or into swirling air

My fragile grip breaks

I am taken away

To add my own howls

To the storm

And wake,

Wake again

Convince my self it’s just a dream

Bandage my bloody hands

Shut the window to the wind

Prepare for work again.

by Anson Brehmer

To read more of Anson Brehmer’s poems and short stories visit vamplitpublishing.ning.com

It was a town like any other town you might imagine, okay so maybe not quite like any other town, it was a bit strange to say the least. An outsider would have never guessed how deep the darkness of this town could get.

In the daytime all seemed normal, the police patrolled the streets, men and women went to work, and kids went to school. Busy shopper in the stores and restaurants kept the town alive and buzzing. Everyone was just as friendly as can be, but at night things were different. I know most people say that about the town they live in, but here it was true. Things became darker and more sinister when the sun went down.

If you work at night you had to wear an armband of various different color signifying your job, At least if you were human you had to. Not everyone in our town was human, at night Vampires ruled the town. This was important for two reasons. If you were out after dark without an armband you were deemed fair game for any vampire to take your life, if you had an armband and was attacked by a vampire, no matter the reason, that vampire was sentenced to death, at the next morning light. However being out after dark, wearing an armband that was not yours, or not for work related reasons, would mean prison time for the wearer. The greater punishment for that person would be having to become a feeding source for the vampires. Sure we had our problems, but what town didn’t. For the most part we lived in perfect harmony. Some of my best friends were even vampires.

Our night shift police officer were ninety percent Vampires, they would patrol the streets at night making sure everyone stayed withing the laws governed by our town. I was a postal worker and worked the early morning shift before daybreak, so I too had to were an armband, blue was the color designated for postal workers. If you worked all night in one of our factories, a green armband was worn. Red signified you were a blood donor at one of our local bars, but could only be drank from at the bar, not in the street, blood prostitution was highly illegal and carried a stiff penalty of death. Human police officers working at night simply just wore their uniforms.

Every morning on my way to work, I would go by way of the park. Now just because I wore my armband didn’t keep me from being scared from time to time, there were some vampires out there that didn’t give a rats ass about our laws and functioned under the thoughts of catch me if you can. One morning, while walking through this park, I noticed two vampire feeding on an unfortunate soul, someone had made the mistake of getting out too early, thinking they could make it to their destination. Not wanting to be noticed ,I continued walking, speeding up my pace. I had almost made it to the tree line, and into the clearing, when one of the vampires stopped me.

“Where do you think you are going” he asked me.

“I’m on my way to work,” I said a bit fearful for my life, “see I have an armband so you have to let me go.”

“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to”

Fear gripped me and I turned to run, knowing this was the wrong thing to do. I was running back into the park, which provided little protection for me. I needed to get around more people to be safe from certain death. The vampire moved with speed I could not even see, next thing I knew he was standing back in front of me. He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off my feet, he was about to take my life, when all at once he released me and I hit the ground. Finding my footing again I looked to see how I became free of his grasp, it was one of my vampire friends that had rescued me.

They were rolling around on the ground, locked in an awesome battle, when the police noticed the commotion and came running. They broke up the fight, ask a lot of question, and proceeded to arrest the rouge vampire. He had not drawn any blood from me and the other poor soul did not have an armband, so they could not hold him over day. Releasing him just before day break and letting him try to find shelter before the coming sun they said would be punishment enough for rough handling me. I did not share the same feelings with them, but now before walking to work by myself, one of my vampire friends would give me an escort.

I have seen this vampire since then but never had the desire to speak with him. A few months later, he was arrested and sentenced to meet the morning sun, for taking the life of a young girl wearing a red armband. Despite all the work I had, I was not going to miss this. I could have been the one to lose my life had it not been for my friend, now this vampire would pay and I wanted to watch.

Bound to a pole by silver chains, he could not break free, when the sun came up he began to scream as he burst into flames. I was happy, my nightmare was over… for now at least.

By Sunshine Raines

I’m not going to start from the beginning. We will start from this time forward.

Once upon a time there were two sisters.  Sadly torn from one another at the hands of a Human. Until one day…
I could feel something lurking on the horizon. The moon had been rising for a week and was to becoming swollen in the night sky. Morning came too quick. Alarm screaming at me, forcing me to awaken.  Reaching up, pressing the power on the laptop, I went to make coffee. The sun shining in the rest of the house, blinded as I crawled out of my cave. “Need Coffee”, I moaned, dragging myself like Frankenstein to the pot of black warmth. Slinking back, unnoticed, into the darkened room with my mug. Not wanting to say good morning to anything yet. The warm liquid sliding down my throat woke me just a little more. Settling back into my bed to check emails, hoping for something special and not just more spam. I dribbled my coffee when I saw who I got a letter from. My sweet, dark sister. I rubbed my eyes just to make sure I was not dreaming and opened the letter in my box.
I must of been in close proximity to her recently, she must of caught my scent. Immediately,  all the brief  moments we spent together swirled like eddies in my mind. Times that we made stand still. The bond that we once shared was the epitome of two becoming one. A love that is rarely shared and most misunderstood amongst humans.
We spent that morning chatting online, sewing the lines of our souls back together. It was as if a day had not gone by since we talked last. Her words, soft and sweet across my screen, made me remember how much I loved her. We made a plan to meet, in the moon drenched night to rekindle the fire that once burned. Anticipation churning my blood, pacing like a caged animal as I waited for her in front of the graveyard where we first met. She pulled up to the curb, her smile brighter then the headlights. I jumped in and we threw our arms around one another, inhaling deeply.  Her sweet scent was just as remembered, her smile warming, her eyes igniting. As she pulled away, I tried to relax, but every fiber of my being was catching her vibration, making me tingle. Trying to give direction to where we going without tripping over my tongue. Pulling into the parking lot safely we couldn’t get out fast enough. Embracing her fully now, nuzzling my nose into her neck, I could feel the pulse in her veins quicken with a gently laid kiss. A soft moan escaping from both our throats. Giggling, we walked arm in arm down a darkened path, into the brilliant light of the moon. Drifting into her on purpose as we strolled, catching her familiar scent. Leaning in, I kissed her ivory shoulder, sipping gently, slowly intoxicating every fiber of my being. Placing my hand on her heart and hers on mine, all the time lost between us, evaporated into the sky. All the love I have for my dark sister came flooding through me. All the memories of what and who we are came rushing back. My blood coursing hard, reminded of her touch. Igniting the once smoldering embers, bursting like a phoenix from the ash. Soaring fast into the night sky and touching the moon that blessed us.
It had been so long since I have felt the coolness of her body near mine, warming my skin. Too long since our lips tasted tongues. We teased, taunted and nibbled one another threatening to bite until I could no longer contain my mouth. I cupped her beautiful face in my hands and instead of biting, kissed her. Sweet like honey her tongue dripped into my mouth, I licked it off her lips, wishing it was crimson.

I ache for the moment to give her my gift. For a night of her and I loving each other until we are raw, feeding until we are sated, and for time to stand still for us once again.