Here's this month's edition of Darkness Within!!
Index
President & CEO
Vice-President and Cover Artist
Editor-In-Chief
Theater
of Tears by Thom Futrell
Lore’s Corner: The Bogeyman by LM David
Dear Hattie by Helen Bishop
The Hybrids-Greg’s Birthday Party by Brien O’Raighne
The She-wolf of Lake Wildwood: Part 10 by Ronald
Edward Griffin
Pure by MJ Boshers
Bram Stoker by The Vampire Queen1
The Worm Farm (15 &
16) by Helen Bishop
Detective Goodson: Rand’s Story: The Blood Lords 6th
part 2 by Brien O’Raighne
2016 All
rights reserved, including the right of reproduction of this ezine in part or
in whole.
THEATER OF TEARS
TGREAPER
The Sacramento
Theater company was founded in 1942. The company now has two theaters in its
complex and has over 300 performances a season.
The most well-known
ghost that is said to be haunting the various stages of the Sacramento Theater
Company has been nicknamed Pinky. In our research, we uncovered reports of as
few as five and as many as six other ghosts inhabiting the theater. There are a
few consistent details about the ghosts from the multiple reports. Pinky is a
prankster ghost that is most often identified as female. Pinky sometimes
manifests as a pink orb. She is often seen in the costume shop.
According to
accounts, three clairvoyants visited the site in 1991 and uncovered five more
ghosts, although the reports that discuss the clairvoyant's visit only mention
two specific additional spirits. One is a tall thin man who sports a moustache
and an ascot. One account calls him Jim and another states that he is the ghost
of a former volunteer. The other ghost is that of a woman sometimes described
as a Hungarian woman, sometimes as a Polish woman named Madame Modjeska. She is
described as sad and as a struggling actress who never succeeded.
I've never been
to the Sacramento Theater, but I have been to a haunted one here in town. The
feelings of nostalgia, of sadness is nearly indescribable. Seems like the stars
of the past just can't seem to stop being a part of the theater.
So what is it
that causes the dead to walk the halls of an entertainment venue? If I was to
harbor a guess, I would say it was dedication. I mean, people work so hard for
so long to get into the theater, and then something happens and that life is
cut short. It just isn't fair. So the spirit stays behind to live out what the
body wanted to so badly. Or it could be a stage hand, killed in the line of
duty, the spirit making sure that the show will go on. Sometimes it's a fan,
who just can't get enough of the theater. Who knows? When the curtain rises and
the lights fill the room, you might find yourself sitting next to a transparent
fan, waiting for the next encore...
Author Bio:
Thom Futrell is a horror
writer living in Jackson Michigan. He has been in more than sixty publications
and has four films under his belt. He writes under the name T.G. Reaper.
The Bogeyman
The Bogeyman (also spelled boogieman, boogeyman, or boogie man) is a common allusion to a mythical creature in many cultures used by adults to frighten children into good behavior.
As a child, the word was used every time I had to go to
the basement for something. Dark places became horror pits. Parent. Do they
have a sense of humor or what?
The Bogey man monster has no specific appearance, and
conceptions about it can vary drastically from household to household within
the same community. In many cases, he has no set appearance in the mind of an
adult or child, but is simply a non-specific embodiment of terror. Parents may
tell their children that if they misbehave, the bogeyman will get them.
Bogeymen may target a specific mischief—for instance, a bogeyman that punishes
children who suck their thumbs—or general misbehavior, depending on what
purpose needs serving. In some cases, the bogeyman is a nickname for the devil.
Bogeyman tales vary by region. The bogeyman is usually a masculine entity but
can be any gender or simply androgynous.
The word “bogey” is believed to be derived from the
Middle English bogge/bugge (hobgoblin) and is generally thought to be a cognate
of the German bögge, böggel-mann (English "Bogeyman").The word could
also be linked to many similar words in other European languages: bogle
(Scots), boeman (Dutch), Butzemann (German), busemann (Norwegian), bøhmand /
bussemand (Danish), bòcan, púca, pooka or pookha (Irish), pwca, bwga or bwgan
(Welsh), puki (Old Norse), pixie or piskie (Cornish), puck (English), mumus
(Hungarian), bogu (Slavonic), buka (Russian, бука), bauk (Serbian), bubulis
(Latvian), baubas (Lithuanian), bobo (Polish), bebok (Silesian), papão
(Portuguese), торбалан (Bulgarian), Μπαμπούλας (Greek), bua (Georgian, ბუა),
babau (Italian), baubau(Romanian) papu (Catalan).
This guy has a “rep” no matter what country he’s in.
The word bugbear, from bug + bear, suggests that the
bogey eating small children takes on the appearance of a bear. The word bugaboo
probably arose as an alteration of bugbear.
In Southeast Asia, the term “bogie” is popularly supposed
to refer to Bugis or Buganese pirates, ruthless seafarers of southern Sulawesi,
Indonesia's third-largest island. These pirates often plagued early English and
Dutch trading ships of the British East India Company and Dutch East India
Company. It is popularly believed that this resulted in the European sailors'
bringing their fear of the "bugi men" back to their home countries.
However, etymologists disagree with this, because words relating to bogeyman
were in common use centuries before European colonization of Southeast Asia and
it is therefore unlikely that the Bugis would have been commonly known to
westerners during that time.
In other cultures, Bogeyman-like beings are almost
universal, common to the folklore of many countries. And in many countries, a
bogeyman variant is portrayed as a man with a sack on his back who carries
naughty children away. This is true for many Latin countries, such as Brazil,
Portugal, Spain, and the countries of Spanish America, where it referred to as
el "Hombre del costal", el "hombre del saco", or in
Portuguese, o "homem do saco" (all of which mean "the sack/bag
man"), or el roba-chicos, meaning child-stealer. Similar legends are also
very common in Eastern Europe, as well as Haiti and some countries in Asia.
In Spain, parents will sing lullabies or tell rhymes to
children, warning them that if they do not sleep, El Coco (the bogeyman) will
come and get them. The rhyme originated in the 17th century has evolved over
the years, but still retains its original meaning. Coconuts (Spanish: coco)
received that name because their brownish hairy surface reminded Portuguese
explorers of coco, a ghost with a pumpkin head. Latin America also has El Coco,
although its folklore is usually quite different, commonly mixed with native
beliefs, and, because of cultural contacts, sometimes more related to the
bogeyman of the United States. Among Mexican-Americans, El Cucuy is portrayed
as an evil monster that hides under children's bed at night and kidnaps or eats
the child that does not obey his/her parents or go to sleep when it is time to
do so. However, the Spanish American bogeyman does not resemble the shapeless
or hairy monster of Spain: social sciences professor Manuel Medrano says
popular legend describes El cucuy as a small humanoid with glowing red eyes
that hides in closets or under the bed.
And parents wonder why their children grow up scared of
the dark, checking closets and just maladjusted in general.
Reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bogeyman
Author Bio:
LM
David has been writing stories since Jr. High School after taking a Creative
Writing class. Initially drawn to the genre of Science Fiction, a fascination
with Paranormal/Urban Fantasy/Romance drew her back into the dark erotic world
of vampires. The more she read about the subject of the ‘undead’, the deeper
dark erotic world of folklore and legends of the vampire became. You can reach
her at:
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/authorLMDavid
Twitter:
@LMDavid54
Dear Hattie
by Helen Bishop:
Dear
Hattie:
When is cannibalism ok?
When is cannibalism ok?
Hungry
in PA
Dear
Hungry,
Cannibalism
is only okay if you're a rugby player crashed in the Andes or you're
exceptionally hungry and too busy to get dressed to go shopping.
Dear Hattie:
Dear Hattie:
If
your brother is really annoying, is it ok to "turn him"?
Annoyed
in Arizona
Dear
Annoyed,
If
you're talking vampire or zombie, it's okay to turn your annoying brother, as
long as you realize that neither will make him less annoying, and may make him
worse.
Dear Hattie:
When the Zombie Apocalypse starts, will my debit card still work?
Afraid in Atlanta
Dear Afraid,
Your debit card will still work for a while,
but I don't recommend standing still long enough to use it at an ATM. The first
purchase should be a sledgehammer or a flame-thrower for when it doesn't work
anymore.
Dear Hattie:
When you are dead, do the living haunt you?
When you are dead, do the living haunt you?
Haunted in Hudson
Dear Haunted,
When
you are dead, the only living that will haunt you are the bugs and worms, the
ones looking for body parts and of course, the IRS, because Federal debt is
forever.
Dear Hattie:
I hear that laying black plastic over weedy vegetation will kill it off and help it to dissolve, effectively getting rid of it as well as feeding your plants.
I hear that laying black plastic over weedy vegetation will kill it off and help it to dissolve, effectively getting rid of it as well as feeding your plants.
Battered in Las Vegas
Dear Battered,
I suggest you dig a shallow trench next to your husband and rolling him in, and covering him with cut open black trash bags.
Go in the house, put a hat and his coat on, and yell out for 'him' not to forget the lime, and send 'him' to the store.
Park at the train station, leave his coat in the trash and walk back.
Your neighborhood either didn't know about the abuse or knew and didn't care. Keep re-covering the trench with trash bags or poop for landscape cloth. Eventually, your problem will actually do something good, namely feed the plants.
I suggest you dig a shallow trench next to your husband and rolling him in, and covering him with cut open black trash bags.
Go in the house, put a hat and his coat on, and yell out for 'him' not to forget the lime, and send 'him' to the store.
Park at the train station, leave his coat in the trash and walk back.
Your neighborhood either didn't know about the abuse or knew and didn't care. Keep re-covering the trench with trash bags or poop for landscape cloth. Eventually, your problem will actually do something good, namely feed the plants.
Dear Hattie:
I’m a vampire
but I’m unable to get the basic things I need. Please help.
Shy Guy in Savannah
Dear Shy Guy,
You could go the safe way and hire home health care or a housekeeper, but those people are notoriously full of blood, and tend to get expensive what with the need to replace them. Or, you could get an apartment over a store so you could slip downstairs to get your groceries. Also, many things can be ordered off the internet these days, and you can tell your local delivery service that you aren't available for delivery until after dark. Just be sure not to avail yourself of the delivery person, that can only lead to bad things.
You could go the safe way and hire home health care or a housekeeper, but those people are notoriously full of blood, and tend to get expensive what with the need to replace them. Or, you could get an apartment over a store so you could slip downstairs to get your groceries. Also, many things can be ordered off the internet these days, and you can tell your local delivery service that you aren't available for delivery until after dark. Just be sure not to avail yourself of the delivery person, that can only lead to bad things.
Author Bio:
Helen Bishop is a native of Pennsylvania and a
true fan of the written word. She works as a litigation paralegal; reads on
average 20 books a week; writes book reviews for an internet blog; writes
stories, poems and novels in various genres; and-just to fill out her dance
card-contracts with fellow authors to proofread and copy-edit their work before
it goes to the publisher. You can check her out at
https://www.writerreadr.wordpress.com
The Hybrids:
by Brien O’Raighne
by Brien O’Raighne
Greg’s Birthday party
JUNIPERWOODS SUBDIVISION | AUTUMN, TEXAS
Belle walks through the
house. She takes a deep breath. Destiny turns to the teen. “Belle, honey.”
Belle stops in her tracks.
“Yeah, Mom.”
“Go get your brother.”
Destiny says. “Everyone should be here soon.”
“Okay, Mom.” Belle says. She
runs upstairs. She stops at the first door past the loft. She enters the room.
In the room are
eleven-year-old boys. A young black boy and a sandy blonde boy. Both are playing
Disney Infinity on the PS6. They don’t even hear her enter the room.
“Hey, squirt.” She says. No
response. Belle shakes her head. She walks over to the wall and pulls the plug.
Greg turns her direction.
“Hey! You didn’t have to do that!”
“I couldn’t get your
attention any other way.” Belle says as she crosses her arms. “Besides, squirt,
mom wants you downstairs. The rest of the family should be here soon.”
“Your family big?” JaJuan
asks Gregory.
“A smidgeon.” Greg says.
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Both JaJuan and Greg rush
past Belle and down the stairs. Belle follows them. She hears the reaction of
her brother as he sees the Star Wars decorations.
“Oh, wow! Awesome, Mom!” Greg
says.
Belle smiles as she walks
down the stairs. She hears her mom respond. “Glad you like it dear.”
The doorbell rings. Belle
turns towards the door. “I got it, mom!”
“Thanks, honey!” She hears
her mom say.
Belle opens the door. There
standing before her are Erin, Michel, Jean-Luc, and Eloisa. Belle jumps into
the arms of Jean-Luc. “You’re here!”
Jean-Luc and Belle go out
onto the porch. Erin looks cross at the two teens. “You could let us enter
first, you know.”
Belle blushes. “Oh, sorry,
Mrs. LeBouf.”
Michel chuckles. “Ah, young
love.” He turns towards Erin. “You should’ve seen Louis when he was Jean-Luc’s
age. He spent so much time with his girlfriend back then. Too bad some damn
vampires killed him.”
Michel, Erin, and Eloisa walk
into the house. Erin is shaking her head.
Jean-Luc and Belle walk over
to the porch swing. “Belle, mon chere, I missed you.”
Belle chuckles. “I missed you
to, Jean-Luc. We saw each other last night.”
“I know.” He responds. “But
every moment away from you is such agony.”
“Ugh.” They hear as Ethan
enters the porch. “Mom back?”
“Yeah, she’s out back setting
up the party games for Greg’s party.” Belle tells Ethan.
“Thanks, Belle.”
“Your brother knows how to
interrupt.” Jean-Luc says.
“I know. But he lives here.”
Belle shrugs her shoulders. “Not much I can do. Mom Elise and He moved in after
they lost Uncle Matt.”
“I heard about him and your
father. Sorry that your father had to do that.” Jean-Luc says.
“It’s a bit of a touchy
subject. Olivia lost her mom at the same time.” Belle tears up. “It’s hard even
thinking about it, Jean-Luc. Can we change the subject?”
A red Suburban pulls up.
Belle turns she sees her other brother get out of the suburban. She hears him
scream. “Ooh, the lovey doveys.” Then, he makes smooching sounds.
“Cut it out, Meka.” Belle
hears coming from the front passenger’s side of the suburban. Belle shakes her
head.
“My other mother and
siblings.” Belle says. “Sometimes I hate Mekamber.”
Priti shows up following her
twin. She cringes. “Sorry, B. He’s like this all the time.”
“Yeah, I know. Every time he
sees us, he does this, P.”
“Your mom inside?” Priti
asks.
“Yeah, everyone else is
either inside or out back. I think Elise is cooking on the grill.”
Belle sees Christina walking
towards her. “Mom!”
“Baby girl, how you doing?”
“Alright.” Belle says. “Gets
harder every year without Daddy.”
Christina hugs Belle. She
runs her fingers through Belle’s golden locks. “Baby, I’m sure that Ethan and
Olivia know how you feel. But you’ll get through it.”
A small boy rushes between
Christina and Belle. He squeezes between and, then, shoots into the house.
Christina breaks the hug. She pats Belle’s shoulder. “Excuse me.”
Then, she hears Christina
yelling as she enters the house. “Sanjay, young man you get back here now!”
Belle giggles. She walks back
over to Jean-Luc and sits down. She chuckles a bit more as she shakes her head.
Sevfar stops on the porch as he spots the two teens. “Hope you’re treating her
right, young man.”
He winks at Belle. She winks
back. Jean-Luc’s mouth is agape. “Tha – tha – that’s…”
“My other dad, well,
Christina is my dad genetically, but I refer to Sevfar as my father.” Belle
says.
“I was gonna say the
Thunders’ GM.”
Belle rolls her eyes. Then,
she sighs. “Really? Sports? When you’re with me? Come on, Jean-Luc. And yes, he
is the Thunders’ GM, so what?”
Another, uninvited person,
appears in the driveway. Both Belle and Jean-Luc turn their heads towards the
driveway as they sense the stranger. Belle and Jean-Luc rise to their feet.
Belle feels anger and her fiery powers emerge.
The stranger jumps over the
vehicles and lands in the front yard. HE is huffing and puffing. “Bring me the
grimoire!”
Jean-Luc raises a brow and
cooks his head. “Have no idea what you are talking about.”
The stranger, wearing a black
cloak, removes a wand from the inner pocket of the cloak. He points it at
Belle. “Alakazam!”
Jean-Luc hears this. He
rushes over to Belle. He dives and knocks her out of the way as the blast hits
his legs. His legs slam into the wall of the garage by the porch. Blood drips
from the damage on his legs.
“Aaaaaah!” He screams.
Belle releases her fiery
power and it slams into the stranger. He reels backwards. He wipes the blood
from his mouth. “Say goodbye, little girl.”
He aims his wand at Belle. As
he waves his wand as spell is cast from behind Belle. “Duratus!”
The stranger cannot finish his
motion as he stops moving. He freezes in place. He looks at the person who
emerges from the house, a person he tried to make his own years ago. A curly
brunette witch named Elise Matthews.
She turns to Belle. “Take
Jean-Luc inside. Your Aunt Sandy can help him.”
“Thanks, Elise.”
“Hello, Xanathos.”
Author Bio:
He is a
connoisseur of sci-fi and paranormal films and books. He, also, lives in
Houston with his son.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/DRBStreetTeam/
The She
Wolf of Lake Wildwood
part 10
part 10
Tabitha continues running through the woods
not sure where to go now that the police are after her. She doesn’t have family
anymore so there’s no one to hide with. Thoughts run through her head as she
tries to figure out what is happening. I
couldn’t have killed that detective could I? Why do I keep having these
nightmares and then bad things always happen after having them? The
deputies are still within earshot in pursuit and she tries to remain as quiet
as she can. I have no idea where my
roommates are if they are even alive and I don’t have any friends. I have
nowhere to go. Her thoughts turn to Kurt and how nice he has been to her
even at the expense of alienating his wife. Maybe
I can convince Kurt to help me. After all I don’t have anything to lose
anymore.
Tabitha sees a fence nearby and
peeks over it to see if anyone may be home. She doesn’t see anyone around and
looks back for the deputies. Once satisfied no one can see her she climbs the
fence and hurries to the back door. She tugs on the sliding glass door to see
if it’s locked and it opens with ease. Quietly she enters closing the door
behind her. She searches through the house looking for a room with a window
that has a view of the woods that the deputies are searching for her. Once she
has found a room she watches out of it careful not to be seen and waits for the
best time to head back to Kurt’s’ house.
At Kurt’s house
Kurt sits in his favorite chair watching
television changing the channel every time a news update would come on about
the manhunt for Tabitha Greer. He still finds it difficult to believe that such
a young pretty girl would be capable of such brutal acts. He looks at the clock
on the mantle and sees that it’s almost time for Diane to be home and is
eagerly anticipating her return.
Then he notices something from the corner of
his eye. A brief reflection of someone in a glass mirror over the fireplace
alerts him that someone is in the back yard. Kurt stands up and walks to the
sliding glass door that leads to the patio in the back yard. He peers through
the glass trying to see if someone is out there. When he doesn’t see anyone he
opens the sliding glass door and slowly walks out.
“Is anyone out there?” he calls out.
He hears the sound of something breaking in
the shed and looks over to see the door cracked slightly. Kurt reaches back
into the house just inside the glass door and grabs the baseball bat that they
leave there just in case for protection.
“Alright I know someone is in there, now come out.” He slowly opens the door to the shed all of the way and when he looks inside he sees a very scared Tabitha sitting in the corner with her knees pulled to her chest.
“Alright I know someone is in there, now come out.” He slowly opens the door to the shed all of the way and when he looks inside he sees a very scared Tabitha sitting in the corner with her knees pulled to her chest.
“What are you doing here don’t you know that
the sheriff department is looking for you? They think you killed those people.
Did you do it?”
“No I didn’t.” she said even though she’s
unsure whether she did or not.
Kurt has a look of conflict on his face and
remembers that Diane would be home any moment.
“You know you have the worst timing on showing
up at my home. My wife will be here any moment and you shouldn’t be here.”
“Please I don’t know where else to go. I don’t
have anyone to help me. Look at me I can’t do those things to those people.
Only an animal could do such things.” She pleads
“They say you must have a dog or some kind of
pet that could do that.”
“I don’t though you have seen me outside a bit
and have you ever seen me with an animal?” she asks.
Kurt lowers the baseball bat and considers
what she is telling him.
“Even if I could help you know my wife
wouldn’t be very happy about it.”
“Isn’t there anything that you can do?”
“No there isn’t anything he can do for you.”
Diane says.
Kurt turns around and sees his wife standing
there with her arms crossed and patting her foot on the ground.
“Hi honey welcome home.” Kurt says.
“Hey honey could you step away from the shed
please?” Diane asks.
Kurt remains quiet and steps out of
her line of sight. Diane glares at Tabitha with malice in her eyes. Tabitha
slowly stands with her back pressed against the wall of the shed with her fists
clenched tightly.
“Admit it you want my husband. Ever
since you moved next door you make excuses to be around here.” Diane says.
“No it isn’t like that at all.”
“It’s really convenient that you’re
on the run from the police and the one place you try to come to for help is my
home. You come to seek help from MY HUSBAND!”
“I need help whether it’s you or
your husband. I’m not capable of killing anyone.” Tabitha says.
“Of course you’re not capable of
killing anyone; you’re weak and pathetic.” Diane says.
Kurt’s’ eyes open wide as he watches
hairs grow all over his wife’s’ arms.
“Honey what’s wrong with your arms?”
Tabitha stares as well and notices
that hair is growing all over Diane’s’ face as well.
“Nothing is wrong I am about to
finally take care of a small problem. I was able to keep my other side to me
hidden for all these years from you Kurt. Once she started prancing around
though I couldn’t control myself. I had to make sure she wouldn’t be able to
get her hands on you. So I framed her by killing everyone around her to make it
look like she did it.”
Her fingers grow longer and nails
are replaced with sharp talons. Her face elongates growing a snout with canine
fangs. Her ears become pointed and hair covers her entire body. Kurt stares at
her in surprise at this new revelation. Diane’s’ speak is replaced with low
growls towards Tabitha and when she looks at Kurt she lets out a soft whimper.
Tabitha stands paralyzed with fear staring at the werewolf before she calls out
to Kurt.
“Please Kurt save me. Don’t let her
kill me.” She pleads.
Kurt looks at the beastly form that
was once his wife and then back to Tabitha.
“I am truly sorry Tabitha but I made
my vows the day I married my wife and I am a man of my word. No matter what she
has become she is my wife and I love her dearly.” He turns facing the opposite
direction so he cannot see Tabitha anymore. “Go ahead and do what you must
Diane. Let me know if you need anything.” He says while walking away towards
the house.
Gums peel back to reveal the razor
sharp fangs in Diane’s’ mouth as she growls. With great haste she enters the
shed and rips out Tabitha’s’ throat. She lets out a loud howl before she runs
from the back yard and into the woods howling as she runs, making sure that all
in the area could hear the blood curdling howl.
An hour later
The Sheriff knocks’ on the front
door and awaits an answer. Diane answers the door wearing a pair of jeans and a
Van Halen T-shirt. He couldn’t resist looking down her curves and this makes
Kurt who is standing at the kitchen counter a little bit jealous but also proud
because she is his wife.
“I hear that you found the body of
Tabitha Greer?” The deputy asks.
“Yes sir my husband and I heard a
loud howling sound behind the house and running into the woods. We went out to
investigate and saw blood on the patio leading to the shed and that’s where we
found her.”
“The coroner should be here soon.
Until they get here I better check it out.” The sheriff says.
“Of course Sheriff, my husband will
show you the way. I don’t have much of a stomach for these types of things.”
Diane says.
Kurt nods and leads the Sheriff out
the back sliding glass door out to the patio.
“We called our boys aunt to go pick
them up for us. They didn’t need to come home and see this.”
“I can’t say that I blame you
there.” The Sheriff says.
The Sheriff approaches the shed and
soon as he sees the mutilated remains of Tabitha he turns and vomits into
Diane’s’ rose bush. He wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform before
turning back to Kurt.
“You said you heard a howling
sound?”
“Yes sir.”
“I know this may sound crazy Kurt
but we have been getting calls of wolf sightings in the woods near here. Some
people speculate maybe Tabitha here brought one into the area since they aren’t
indigenous to the area. I guess this shows that she wasn’t able to control the
beast.”
“I guess no one really can.”
Soon after the coroner van shows up
and takes what’s left of Tabitha away. After they leave Kurt locks up the shed
and covers the blood spots on the patio with a few rugs from the garage before
walking back into the house. Diane stands in the kitchen with her eyes lowered
while drinking a glass of wine.
“You must think that I am a monster
now.” She says while a tear falls from her cheek.
Kurt walks over to her and wipes the
tear away.
“No I don’t think that you’re a
monster. I may not agree with what you did but I love you. The fact that you
did what you did just shows how deeply you do love me. No one has ever made me
feel that important in their lives and I thank you for that.”
He pulls her face to his and kisses
her lips softly, tasting the wine on her lips. Then he pulls away and looks her
in the eyes.
“Just know now that you never have
to worry about anything with me or get jealous.” Kurt says with a smile.
Diane smiles back at him and stretch
her arms while yawning.
“I guess we should probably go get
the boys soon before they drive the sitter crazy.” He says.
“Yeah it’s been a long day.”
Kurt wraps his arms around his wife
again and she snuggles her face into his shoulder and he can feel her smiling.
As crazy as the situation may be the fact remains that they are perfect for one
another and will live a long and happy life together raising their boys. As for
the She-Wolf of Lake Wildwood no one has seen the creature or heard a sign of
her ever since that night.
Author Bio:
Ronald Edward Griffin is a native of Macon, GA where he
was born and raised. He is an accomplished Author in his own right and is
always working hard on something. He has two children whom he hopes to pass his
writing bug on to them.
“Pure”
by: MJ Boshers
It’s a rainy night as Jenna stares out her window,
trying to make sense of the world. She prays to anyone or anything that will
hear her on this lonely night. Her heart hurts and she cries out in pain.
Sometimes she thinks she should just end the pain herself, but realizes that
nobody would miss her if she were gone. She laughs at the thought because the
very reason she should end it all is the very reason she doesn’t. She doesn’t
want to die yet, not without being loved, wanted, or at least desired by
someone.
She wipes her eyes and sees a
figure across the street. It’s a man. He stares at her as he is drenched by the
rain. She gets a chill down her spine and decides to go to bed. She tosses and
turns until three in the morning. It’s still storming outside and a flash of
lightning comes through the window. She jumps when she sees a man standing over
her. It’s the man from earlier, the man she saw across the street. He is
soaking wet.
“Who are you?” she asks.
He looks at her with his bright
blue eyes. “I am the answer to your prayers,” he says. He holds out his hand
and she takes it, knowing she has no other options.
“Where are we going?” she asks as
he pulls her in close to him.
“Home,” he says. Flames fill the
room and she grabs him tighter. He gives her a little smirk and they disappear.
They enter a room filled with animals…dead animals.
“Please tell me this isn’t home,”
she says, worried.
“No,” he says. “Just somewhere
private. I wanted to let you know what you asked for.”
“And what is that?” she asks,
swallowing hard as he turns away from her and takes his jacket off.
“You asked for someone to love
you, to want you, and to desire you.” He turns back to her. “I can be that
someone.” He grabs her hand and she notices, as the light hits his face, how
handsome he is.
“Why me?” she asks.
He laughs at her. “Let’s just say
that we want the same things.”
Jenna looks into his eyes and he
looks back into hers. This could be her chance…her only chance. “What is your
name?” asks Jenna.
“Derik,” he says as his lips get
closer to hers. She gasps, knowing he is about to kiss her. When his lips touch
hers she feels something she’s never felt before. She feels his need for her
and she loves the feeling. “I have to ask you,” he says, backing away from the
kiss. “Before this goes any further. I need something from you first.” He
strokes her cheek.
“Whatever it is—
“I need your heart,” he says. “I
need your whole heart. Are you willing to give it to me?”
“Of course,” Jenna says, still
feeling weak from the kiss. She leans in for another.
“Are you sure?” he asks again.
“Once you give me your heart, it can’t be returned.”
“I’d give anything,” she says,
desperate for him to kiss her again. He leans forward.
“So be it,” he whispers in her ear
and then gently kisses her. She feels a pressure in her chest and she gasps for
air. Her eyes widen with shock. “Don’t worry,” he says. “It will only hurt for
a second.” He pulls his bloody hand out of her chest and reveals her heart. She
looks down at the hole in her chest and looks back to him confused as she
falls. He catches her before she hits the ground. “Don’t be afraid,” he says.
“Just let go. I will be right here when you wake…just let go.” She gives him a
smile because for some reason, she trusts him completely. She closes her eyes
and drifts away. Derik strokes her cheek and sighs. “You are my angel, Jenna,”
he says and he picks her up and they vanish.
****
Jenna wakes up in her bedroom and immediately feels
for a hole in her chest. When she doesn’t find a hole, she gets up to go splash
water on her face. She laughs at the crazy dream she has just had. While she
washes her face she notices her eyes in the mirror. They are bright blue, just
like Derik’s were in her dream.
“It wasn’t a dream,” Derik says from
behind her, making her jump.
“What did you do to me?” she asks.
“Made you like me,” he says,
backing her up against the sink.
“And what are you?” she says, not
being able to take her eyes off of his lips.
“Someone who wants you to want me,
someone who desires you to desire me, and someone who will be with you
forever,” he says, stroking her cheek. “Do you want the same from me?”
“Yes,” she answers, swallowing a
lump in her throat.
“Good,” he says, picking her up
and carrying her to bed.
Everything she has ever wanted is
carrying her to bed and her heart should be racing, but she can’t feel it. She
remembers him ripping it out of her chest and she panics again. “What am I?”
she asks.
He sighs, not wanting to tell her.
He lays her down on the bed and rubs his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ll tell
you everything, but first…” He kisses her and her body aches for him. She bites
her lip, as he kisses every inch of her. She screams for him to take her when
she can’t take any more.
“I want you now,” she says. He
finally gives her what she has waited so long for. Everything she has ever
wanted she has been given in one night and right now she is not worried about
the price.
****
Jenna lays on Derik’s chest and
realizes he has no heartbeat either and she bites her lip, thinking.
“What are you thinking?” Derik
asks.
“Nothing,” she says.
“You can tell me anything,” he
says. “Was I not what you hoped for?”
“No,” she laughs. “That was more
than I could’ve hoped for, but…”
“But what?”
“I still wonder why you chose me,”
she says, sitting up in the bed. “I mean look at me…I’m nothing…a nobody.”
“You’re wrong,” he breaks in. “I
picked you because you possess qualities that most all woman lack. Strength and
beauty,” he says, smiling. She looks down in embarrassment. He pulls her chin
back up to look at him. “Inside as well as outside. You’re pure,” he says, with
a smirk. “Well, you were.” She gives him a shy smile. “And you have more love
to give than anyone I have ever came across. You don’t know how long I’ve
searched for you.” He combs his fingers through her hair.
“What am I?” she asks again and
this time he knows he must tell her.
He looks into her eyes hoping she
will not freak out. “You’re a demon, Love,” he says with his British accent,
waiting for a scream.
“Oh,” she says, softly.
“Oh,” he says. “That’s all you
have to say.” He laughs.
“I don’t know,” she says. “It’s
not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Werewolf, Vampire, or Faery,” she
says. “I know stupid, right.”
“No, not stupid at all,” he says.
“Considering they exist as well.”
“What!” Jenna yells.
“Now you scream,” he says.
“Sorry,” Jenna says. “What now?”
“You can do whatever you want to
do Jenna,” he says. “The world is yours, but first you need to meet my father.”
“You have a father?”
“Doesn’t everybody?” Derik asks.
“I didn’t,” she says.
“Everyone has a father. Whether
you like them or if you’ve met them is another issue.”
“What does your father do?” she
asks. “Is he a demon like you?”
“Sort of,” he says. “I’ll tell you
when we get there.”
****
They enter a hall-way made of stone. A woman quickly
runs up to Derik and grabs his arm. “Where have you been?” she asks. “Your
father has been calling you all night.”
He backs away from the woman.
“Amelia, this is Jenna and she belongs to me now.”
“What,” Amelia asks. “You couldn’t
have,” she says, backing away from us. “Your father is going to go ballistic.”
“It will be fine, Amelia,” Derik
says. “Damien still needs a bride.”
Jenna looks up to see that
Amelia’s eyes are red and not blue like theirs. Amelia notices Jenna’s eyes as
well. She gasps. “She’s pure!” she yells and she runs out of the room.
“She over-exaggerates,” Derik
says. He grabs Jenna’s hand and they enter the next room. A man turns to great
them.
“It’s about time,” he says.
“Father, I want you to meet—
“Yes,” he says. “I know.” The man
looks into Jenna’s eyes. “Pure,” he says with a sigh. “Son, do you know what
you have done?”
“But—
“She doesn’t belong here!” Derik’s
father says.
“She belongs with me!” Derik
yells.
His father paces back and forth
and begins to get frustrated. “They will seek war for this. I will not have it.
I will have war, but on my terms…not theirs,” he says.
“Father, I can talk to them. Once
they know—
“I am Lucifer and I will not allow
this, Derik!”
Jenna’s eyes widen with alarm.
“Your father is Lucifer!”
“Forget to mention that, did he?”
Lucifer says.
Jenna backs up wondering what she has got herself in to.
“Jenna, don’t freak out,” Derik
says.
“Your father is the Devil,” she
says, calmly. “Why would that freak me out?” She tries to sound as sarcastic as
she can.
“I was going to tell you,” he
says. “But I was scared.”
“Of what?” she asks, looking at
him confused.
“That you wouldn’t want me
anymore,” he says.
She grabs his hand. “That will
never be an issue,” she says. The Devil laughs at her comment.
“Why don’t you give me a moment
with my son?” Lucifer asks, snapping his fingers. Before she can argue, she is
back in her apartment. She sits down at the kitchen counter to try and let all
the events of the day sink in. Her stomach begins to growl. She goes to get
something to eat, but nothing seems appetizing to her. She sniffs the air and
something smells amazing to her. She thinks it must be the restaurant around
the corner so she decides to go find out. Whatever that smell is, she has to
have it. The restaurant is crowded and she can’t focus on the smell anymore.
She begins to get agitated. “Table for one?” the hostess asks.
“I guess,” she says and follows
her to sit down. “What smells so good today?” she
“The special I guess,” the hostess
says. “I’ll get your waiter.”
A man walks by and she gets this
overwhelming feeling as the wind blows a scent in her face. She immediately
follows him. She catches up to him and reaches to grab him, but someone
snatches her back.
****
“You know she can’t stay,” Lucifer
tells his son.
“Why not?” Derik argues. “She is
just like me.”
“No, you are my son,” the Devil
says. “She doesn’t belong here.”
“Neither do I, but yet I’m still here.”
Lucifer sighs, getting impatient
with his son. “Look, Derik, I have been through this,” he says. “Trust me when
I tell you that this will only end badly.”
“Just because you scared Mom away—
“She chose them!” Lucifer says.
“Remember that.”
“Jenna will choose me,” Derik
says.
“Will she?” Lucifer laughs. “Well,
what happens when she can’t do what needs to be done? That girl has more love
in her than your mother had. There is no way she’ll be able to feed.”
“I’ll walk her through it,” Derik
says, not knowing if he believes himself. “She’ll be fine.”
“Well, you better hurry,” Lucifer
says. “She’ll be getting hungry soon.”
****
Jenna turns around to Derik. She
hugs him. “What is happening to me?” she says. He pulls her head in close to
his chest and kisses her forehead.
“I’m so sorry,” Derik says.
“Why am I so hungry?”
“Because as a demon, regular food
will not sustain you here in the mortal world. You have to eat something else
if you want to survive here.”
“What do we eat?” asks Jenna,
hoping it isn’t blood or brains.
“The souls of the damned,” he
says.
“The souls of the damned?” she
repeats. “How do you eat a soul and how do you know they are damned? People
change their mind about good and evil all the time.”
“Do you smell that?” he asks.
“Yes,” she says, taking in the
aroma. “What is that? It smells so good.”
“You see that guy over there,”
Derik says and points to the man she was following.
“Yes.”
“He’s a very bad man and the
smell…is his soul.”
“Oh…” she says, figuring it all
out.
“And trust me when I say his soul
is as damned as they get.”
Jenna sighs not really liking the
whole idea of eating souls, but if it’s what she has to do to be with Derik,
she’ll have to learn to deal with it. “Are you ready?” he asks. He can see her
uncertainty. “Trust me, Jenna.”
“Okay,” she says. “What do I do?”
He grabs her and brings her in
close. He turns her around so her back is against his body. He pulls her arm up
as if she is reaching for the man. “Call out to his soul,” he says. They get
closer to the man and she hesitates, looking at all the people who will see
them. “Don’t worry,” Derik says. “They can’t see us.”
Jenna closes her eyes. “Okay,
focus on his soul…the smell and tell it to come to you.” A black shape comes
from the man’s mouth. It looks like smoke. The man falls to the floor and
people come running to check on him. The black soul reaches Jenna’s mouth and
she looks to Derik. “Go ahead,” he says. She opens her mouth and the soul
enters her. She believes it is the best thing she has ever had, but she still
feels guilty about taking a life, even if it is damned. “How do you feel?”
Derik asks.
“Good,” she says.
“Great job,” he says.
“Do all demons eat souls?”
“No,” he says. “Dad only lets a
few out of Hell…the privileged. Other demons aren’t like you and me, Jenna.
They have to eat, but they eat the good souls.”
“What…are you serious?” she asks.
“But that’s—
“Wrong…yes, but they are demons,
remember and so are we.” Jenna is silent, finally realizing what she is. “Are
you okay?”
“I think I want to go home,” she
says. He takes her back to her apartment. “Where will I stay?” she asks,
looking around at all her stuff.
“Wherever you want,” he says.
“But, like I said, to sustain your life here you will have to eat.”
“Okay, but what if we went back?”
she asks.
“Well,” he says, coming closer to
her. “You would stay with me, if that is what you choose.” She looks into his
eyes and knows that it doesn’t matter where they are as long as they are
together, even if it is Hell.
“Then let’s go home,” she says.
“I’ll always choose you over anything.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “My
family is a lot to take in.”
“I’ll deal,” she says.
“Then let’s go home,” he says.
****
Jenna wakes up alone. She has been
in Hell with Derik for a week, but it has seemed like paradise to her. He
hasn’t left her side, until now. She gets out of bed and walks down the
hallway, heading towards the Livingroom. She stops when she hears voices. Derik
and Lucifer are talking so she leans in to get a better listen. “Enough is
enough, Derik,” says Lucifer. “I’ve let you have your fun. It’s time to let her
go.”
“I will never let her go, Father,”
Derik argues. “I love her.”
Jenna can’t help but smile at his
comment.
“You are a demon!” his Father
yells. “Demons don’t love anything. Love makes you weak.”
“You loved Mother and you love
Damien and me…I hope.” Derik looks at his father for assurance.
“Family is different,” Lucifer
says. “And you know what happened with your Mother. That’s why I’m trying to
make you see—
“Father,” says Derik breaks in. “I
know you’re trying to protect me against what you had to go through, but let
this play out. She might surprise you.”
“It’s not me she will need to
convince,” Lucifer says. “Michael will come for her, son, and I will not try
and stop him.”
“He will not take her from me,”
says Derik. “I won’t let him.”
“You can’t stop your Uncle,” says
Lucifer. “And I will stop you if you try.”
“But—
“No!” Lucifer shouts and flames
come from his fingertips. Jenna jumps. “This is all on Jenna now, do you
understand?”
“Yes, Father,” says Derik and his
Father gets up to leave. Jenna runs back toward the bedroom so Derik doesn’t
realize she heard the conversation. Someone pops up out of nowhere and she runs
in to them. “Oh, sorry,” she says.
“Quiet all right, Jenna…is it?” he
asks.
“Yes…and you are?”
“I’m Damien, Derik’s brother,” he
says, smiling.
“Oh, hi,” she says.
“Sorry I didn’t introduce myself
sooner, but I’ve been busy with work.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says.
“Is it?” he laughs as he circles
her. “Nobody has ever told me that before. I have to say that it is not a total
waste of my time meeting you either.”
“Thank you,” she says, not knowing
if that is a complement or not.
“Little Bro gets all the perks,”
he says. Jenna starts to feel a bit uncomfortable around him. He inches toward
her and backs her up against the wall. He looks into her blue eyes with his
that are blood red. “I can see his fascination with you.” She glances down the
hall and sees Derik coming. “Speak of the Devil’s son,” Damien says.
“What’s going on?” asks Derik.
“Just getting acquainted,” says
Damien. “But I do have to get back to work. Not all of us can sit around and
play house, right Brother?” Damien smirks and vanishes.
“Are you okay?” asks Derik.
“Yes,” she replies. “I’m fine. He
seems like a ray of sunshine.”
“Yes, he is delightful,” says
Derik, laughing. The ground starts to shake and Jenna holds on to Derik. “What
is that?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” he lies. Rocks
start to fall around them. He knows what is happening because it has happened
before, every time his Uncle comes down to visit. He grabs Jenna’s hand and
runs. A man in a white suit appears and blocks their way.
“Hello, Nephew,” the man says.
“Michael,” Derik says, grinding his teeth in
anger. He squeezes Jenna’s hand and they are back in her apartment.
“Who was that?” Jenna asks. “What
is happening?”
“That was Michael,” says Derik.
“We have to hide you before—
“Before what,” replies Michael. He
grabs Derik by the throat. “You really disappoint me, Nephew.”
“No!” Jenna cries. “Don’t hurt
him.” Michael releases Derik and moves toward Jenna.
“He’s not the one I’m here for,” Michael says.
“I’m taking you to Heaven where you belong.”
“I belong with Derik!” she yells.
Derik smiles at her comment. She chose him.
“You know the rules, Derik,”
Michael says. “Nobody pure can live in Hell.”
“I live in Hell!” yells Derik. “I
am pure! Does nobody get that! I am the only pure demon in Hell. Is it too much
to ask to have someone there that can make me happy?”
“Derik,” Michael says in a soft
tone. “I am sorry that you got stuck in Hell with your Father, but rules are
rules.” Michael grabs Jenna’s arm and Derik runs toward them. Michael snaps his
fingers and before Derik can reach them they vanish. He falls to the floor,
realizing she may be gone for good.
“Jenna!” he cries. Flames shoot
from his hands as he screams her name.
****
“Father!” Derik shouts as he
enters Lucifer’s castle. Lucifer comes at once. “Where is she?” Derik demands.
“Calm down, son.”
“I know you know where she is,”
Derik says. “Tell me!” He throws his father across the room. The guards run in
and Lucifer quickly puts his hand up to hold them off.
“I’m going to let that one slide
because of your situation, but do not test me, boy.”
“You could have stopped him.”
“She didn’t belong here!”
“Neither do I,” says Derik and he
starts to walk away.
“Where are you going?” Lucifer
asks, but Derik doesn’t answer. Damien walks in at the same time and Derik runs
into him.
“Hey, Bro,” Damien says. Derik
pushes him out of the way. “What is his problem?”
“Damien,” Lucifer says. “Keep an
eye on your Brother. See what he is up to. Don’t let him out of your site.”
“Yes, sir,” he says and runs to
catch up with Derik.
“Hey, Bro,” he says. “What’s going
on?”
“Don’t act as if you care,” says
Derik.
“I don’t, but I’m curious,” Damien
says.
“Michael took Jenna,” he says.
“Oh…that sucks,” Damien says. “I
looked forward to playing with that one.”
Derik slams him up against the
wall. “She is not yours to play with, Brother.”
“Yours either, apparently,
Brother,” Damien replies. Flames come from Derik’s fingertips. “Okay, easy.
Just teasing.” Derik lets go of his brother. “What are you going to do now?”
Damien asks, straitening his clothes out.
“I’m going to get her back and you
are going to help me,” Derik says. “There has to be a spell to bring her back.
We need to go get us a witch.”
****
“Where are we?” Jenna asks and looks around to see she
is in a room of a warehouse. “I thought we were going to Heaven?”
Michael laughs. “Now that’s
funny,” he says. She gives him a confused look. He snaps his fingers and she is
tied up to a chair.
“What are you doing?” she asks,
trying to wiggle out of the ropes.
“You’re a demon!” he says, bending
down to her level. “Demons are not allowed in Heaven.”
“Then why are we here?” she asks.
“Oh, I’m going to kill you,” he
says, taking a blade from his pocket.
“I thought you were an angel?” she
asks, beginning to panic.
“I’m an Archangel,” he says. “So I
can pretty much kill any demon I want. It’s my duty. My brother handed you to
me on a silver platter. He just wants me to wait a bit.”
“But Lucifer said—
“Lucifer is the Devil…he lied,”
Michael says. “All that about Derik’s Mom was a lie. No demon has ever entered
Heaven and they never will, even a pure one.”
“Then what happened to his Mom?”
Michael sighs. “He picked up some
poor lonely women and used her. When he was done he killed her. He turned Derik
when he was a baby.”
“I thought he was born a demon?”
“I think I’ve said too much,”
Michael says, smiling. “And I’ve grown impatient with Lucifer so let’s get to
it shall we.”
Jenna tenses up as he starts to
come toward her. “What will happen when I die,” she asks. She tears up thinking
about the fact she might not ever see Derik again.
“You chose Hell when you chose
Derik and now you will see it up close,” he says.
“I chose love,” she says.
“Well everyone makes their choice
in life and now you must live…or die with yours.” He comes forward again with
his knife and she closes her eyes and waits for death.
****
Derik and Damien walk into a shop and a young woman
walks into the room. “Can I help you?” she asks. She looks up at them and
quickly tries to run to the back of the store. Damien grabs her before she can
get away.
“You do have a way with people,
Brother,” Damien says.
“Why are you running?” Derik asks.
“You’re demons,” she says,
struggling to get away.
“How?” he asks, but remembers how
some witches can see true forms. “You can see our true form. Look, we don’t
want to hurt you.”
“Speak for yourself,” Damien says.
“Control yourself,” Derik orders.
“We need your help, Maggie.” She gives him a curious look. “I got your name
from a friend. He said you could help, but it looks as if you may be a
little…inexperienced to handle this.”
She smiles. “Don’t let my looks
fool you,” she says as a light comes from her body and slams Damien into the
wall. “I’m older than I look and I can handle anything.”
“You’re Fae,” Derik says.
“Half, actually,” she says.
“Jenna would love to meet you.”
“Jenna?” she asks.
“She is why I am here,” Derik
says. “I need her back. She’s been taken.”
“You’re different from the
others,” she says. “You can love.”
“Yes,” he says. “And I love Jenna.
Can you help me?”
“I can try,” she says. “Is she a
demon?”
“Yes, she is like me,” he replies.
“Then I will need her heart…and
yours.” He looks at her confused and laughs. Damien stands up and runs toward
her.
“Damien, no!” Derik yells, giving
Maggie a warning. She raises her hand and Damien falls to the ground in pain.
He grabs his head and screams.
She looks back toward Derik. “I
can’t do the spell without both your hearts,” she says.
“Don’t listen to her, Derik,”
Damien says with pain in his voice.
“Give me a moment,” she says and
walks toward Damien. She looks into his eyes and Damien realizes she is reading
his thoughts. “Get out of my head, Bitch!” he yells.
“Thank you,” she says to Damien.
“That’s what I needed to know.” She raises her hand and he disappears.
“Where did he go?” Derik asks.
“Back to Hell where he belongs,”
she says.
“Why?” he asks, confused as to
what is happening.
She looks at him with pity.
“Derik, you weren’t born a demon. I don’t know why, but they have been lying to
you this whole time.
“What? Why would they lie about
that?” he asks, trying not to believe it, but he doesn’t put anything past his
Father or his brother.
“We don’t have time,” she says.
“You need to go and find your heart before they do.”
“I don’t know where to look,”
replies Derik.
She thinks for a moment to make
sure this is what she wants to do, but she feels sorry for him. “Take me with
you,” she says.
“No,” he says. “Faeries can’t
survive in Hell. You will wither.”
“We won’t be there long enough for
that to happen,” she says. She holds out her hand. “Let’s go and I’ll locate
your heart.”
He sighs with concern, but grabs
her hand and takes her to Hell.
****
“Michael!” Lucifer yells. Michael
stops seconds before the blade strikes Jenna.
“What now, Brother. I’m growing
tired of your mood swings.”
“We just have a slight change in
plans,” Lucifer says. “Derik knows about his past and it’s only an amount of
time for one of his tantrums. We will need her to keep him in check. Besides
you know you can’t kill her. You can only banish her.” Jenna gives him an angry
look because he made her believe she was going to die. He gives her a smile and
a wink.
“I didn’t think Angels could lie,”
she says.
“You forget, I’m not an ordinary
Angel,” Michael says. “I’m an Archangel. I’m ‘The An—
“We know your ‘The Angel’,”
Lucifer says. “Just because you are the oldest, Michael, doesn’t make you ‘The
Angel’. He has a bit of an ego problem.” He looks toward Jenna.
“Really,” she says. “Maybe it runs
in the family.”
Michael bursts out laughing. “I
like this girl,” he says. “I hope it works out for you, Sweetheart.” He gives
her another wink and vanishes.
Lucifer rolls his eyes. “Okay,
this is how it’s going to go…”
“Let me finish that sentence for
you, Father,” Derik says.
Lucifer’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Hello, son,” he says.
“You killed my mother,” Derik
says.
“Yes, well she would have made you
weak,” the Devil says.
“Well, you don’t have to worry
about me being weak anymore,” replies Derik.
“Well, it’s about time,” Lucifer
says. “It only took twenty-five years.”
“Jenna, come here,” Derik says. He
can tell Maggie’s spell is starting to work. “This may hurt a bit.”
Maggie appears to finish her
spell. A light appears in Jenna’s chest and she screams as she falls to the
ground. Derik also falls to the ground. Lucifer begins to worry. “What’s
happening?” he asks.
“She’s Faery,” Damien yells
appearing next to his father. Lucifer reaches for her, but she is protected by
a barrier.
“I’ll get through in a minute precious,”
Lucifer says. She panics and chants quicker, but as soon as she’s almost
finished Lucifer breaks through the barrier. He grabs her by the throat. “What
do you think you are trying to do?” he asks. “I’m not trying to do anything,”
she says, short on breath from him squeezing her throat. She looks the Devil in
the eyes. “I did.” She raises her hand and says the last words of the spell.
“It is done,” she says. Blood starts to run out of her veins and floats into
the air. It hovers over two hearts that appear. The hearts hover in front of
Jenna and Derik. The blood seeps into the hearts and they light up as they
enter their chests. “Their flame will burn forever.”
Lucifer takes his hand and thrusts
it through Maggie’s chest. She gasps as he removes her heart. She smiles at him
and vanishes. Lucifer drops the heart and it vanishes as well. He looks back to
see that Jenna and Derik are gone as well. “No! Stupid Faery!” he shouts. The
ground begins to rumble and the building collapses.
****
Jenna wakes with Derik looking at
her. “Everything is going to be fine now,” he says. “We will be together
forever and nobody will ever come between us again. We are Faeries now. Sleep
now you need your rest.” He kisses her cheek and she falls back to sleep. The
power he feels is amazing. It courses through his veins like fire. He wonders
what the future holds for a moment and then looks back at Jenna. “She is my
future,” he answers himself. “And that is all that matters.” He lies down next
to her with no worries of what lies ahead.
Author
Bio:
MJ
Boshers is an Author of Fantasy and YA novels. The Faewitch is her debut novel
and the beginning of a great trilogy. She also has a YA series called Backlash
coming soon. She is from the South and is also a songwriter, two things she
loves to incorporate in her novels. In college she studied Graphic Design and
Photography. She loves hanging out with her husband and daughter in Alabama.
@mjboshers
a three book series. She has a YA novel, Backlash, coming
soon as well. She is also a songwriter and loves to add music to her novels
whenever she can. She
Bram Stoker
by The Vampire Queen1
by The Vampire Queen1
Abraham "Bram" Stoker (8 November 1847 – 20 April 1912) was an Irish author,
best known today for his 1897 Gothic novel, Dracula. During his lifetime, he was
better known as the personal assistant of actor Henry Irving and business manager of the Lyceum
Theatre in London, which Irving owned.
Stoker was
bedridden with an unknown illness until he started school at the age of seven,
when he made a complete recovery. Of this time, Stoker wrote, "I was
naturally thoughtful, and the leisure of long illness gave opportunity for many
thoughts which were fruitful according to their kind in later years." He
was educated in a private school run by the Rev. William Woods.[5]
After his
recovery, he grew up without further major health issues, even excelling as an
athlete (he was named University Athlete) at Trinity College,
Dublin, which he attended from 1864 to
1870. He graduated with honours as a B.A. in Mathematics. He was auditor of the College Historical Society ("the
Hist") and president of the University Philosophical Society, where his first paper was on "Sensationalism in
Fiction and Society".
In 1878
Stoker married Florence Balcombe,
daughter of Lieutenant-Colonel James Balcombe of 1 Marino Crescent. She was a celebrated
beauty whose former suitor was Oscar Wilde.[6] Stoker
had known Wilde from his student days, having proposed him for membership of
the university’s Philosophical Society while he was president. Wilde was upset
at Florence's decision, but Stoker later resumed the acquaintanceship, and
after Wilde's fall visited him on the Continent.[7]
The
Stokers moved to London, where Stoker became acting manager and then business
manager of Henry Irving's Lyceum Theatre,
London, a post he held for 27 years. On
31 December 1879, Bram and Florence's only child was born, a son whom they
christened Irving Noel Thornley Stoker. The collaboration with Henry Irving was
important for Stoker and through him he became involved in London's high society,
where he met James Abbott
McNeill Whistler and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (to whom he was distantly related). Working for Irving,
the most famous actor of his time, and managing one of the most successful
theatres in London made Stoker a notable if busy man. He was dedicated to
Irving and his memoirs show he idolized him. In London Stoker also met Hall Caine, who
became one of his closest friends – he dedicated Dracula to him.
In the
course of Irving's tours, Stoker travelled the world, although he never visited Eastern Europe, a
setting for his most famous novel. Stoker enjoyed the United States, where
Irving was popular. With Irving he was invited twice to the White House, and
knew William McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt. Stoker set two of his novels there, using Americans as
characters, the most notable being Quincey Morris. He
also met one of his literary idols, Walt Whitman.
Before
writing Dracula Stoker met Ármin Vámbéry, a
Hungarian writer and traveler. Dracula likely emerged from Vámbéry's dark
stories of the Carpathian mountains.[9] Stoker
then spent several years researching European folklore and mythological stories
of vampires.
Dracula is an epistolary novel,
written as a collection of realistic, but completely fictional, diary entries,
telegrams, letters, ship's logs, and newspaper clippings, all of which added a
level of detailed realism to the story, a skill Stoker had developed as a
newspaper writer. At the time of its publication, Dracula was considered a "straightforward
horror novel" based on imaginary creations of supernatural life.[8] "It
gave form to a universal fantasy . . . and became a part of popular
culture."[8]
According
to the Encyclopedia of World
Biography, Stoker's stories are today included in the categories of
"horror fiction", "romanticized Gothic" stories, and
"melodrama."[8] They are
classified alongside other "works of popular fiction" such as Mary Shelley'sFrankenstein,[10]:394 which, according to historian Jules Zanger, also used the
"myth-making" and story-telling method of having "multiple
narrators" telling the same tale from different perspectives. "'They
can't all be lying,' thinks the reader."[11]
The
original 541-page manuscript of Dracula was believed to have been lost until
it was found in a barn in northwestern Pennsylvania in the early 1980s.[12] It
included the typed manuscript with many corrections, and handwritten on the
title page was "THE UN-DEAD." The author's name was shown at the
bottom as Bram Stoker. Author Robert Latham remarked: "the most famous
horror novel ever published, its title changed at the last minute."[10] The
manuscript was purchased by Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen.
Stoker's
inspirations for the story, in addition to Whitby, may have included a visit to Slains Castle in Aberdeenshire, a visit to the crypts of St. Michan's Church in Dublin and the novella Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu.[13]
Stoker's
original research notes for the novel are kept by the Rosenbach Museum and
Library in Philadelphia, PA. A facsimile edition of the notes was created by Elizabeth
Miller and Robert
Eighteen-Bisang in 1998.
After
suffering a number of strokes, Stoker died at No. 26 St
George's Square on 20 April 1912.[14] Some biographers attribute the cause of
death to tertiary syphilis,[15] others
to overwork.[16] He was cremated, and his ashes placed in a display urn
at Golders
Green Crematorium.
After Irving Noel Stoker's death in 1961, his ashes were added to that urn. The
original plan had been to keep his parents' ashes together, but after Florence
Stoker's death, her ashes were scattered at the Gardens of Rest. Visitors to
his urn at Golders Green are escorted to the room as a precaution against
vandalism.
The short
story collection Dracula's
Guest and Other Weird Stories was
published in 1914 by Stoker's widow Florence Stoker. The first film adaptation
of Dracula was released in 1922 and was named Nosferatu. It
was directed by F. W. Murnau and
starred Max Schreck as Count
Orlock. Nosferatu was produced while Florence Stoker,
Bram Stoker's widow and literary executrix, was still alive. Represented by the
attorneys of the British Incorporated Society of Authors, she eventually sued
the filmmakers. Her chief legal complaint was that she had been neither asked
for permission for the adaptation nor paid any royalty. The case dragged on for
some years, with Mrs. Stoker demanding the destruction of the negative and all
prints of the film. The suit was finally resolved in the widow's favour in July
1925. Some copies of the film survived, however, and the film has become well
known. The first authorized film version of Dracula did not come about until almost a
decade later when Universal Studios released Tod Browning's Dracula starring Bela Lugosi.
Because of
the Stokers' frustrating history with Dracula's copyright, a great-grandnephew of Bram
Stoker, Canadian writer Dacre Stoker, with encouragement from
screenwriter Ian Holt, decided to write "a sequel that bore the Stoker
name" to "reestablish creative control” over the original novel. In
2009, Dracula: The Un-Dead was released, written by Dacre Stoker and Ian Holt. Both
writers "based [their work] on Bram Stoker's own handwritten notes for
characters and plot threads excised from the original edition" along with
their own research for the sequel. This also marked Dacre Stoker's writing
debut.[21][22]
In Spring
2012, Dacre Stoker, in collaboration with Prof. Elizabeth Miller, presented the
"lost" Dublin Journal written by Bram Stoker, which had been kept by
his great-grandson Noel Dobbs. Stoker's diary entries shed a light on the issues
that concerned him before his London years. A remark about a boy who caught
flies in a bottle might be a clue for the later development of the Renfield
character in Dracula.[23]
On 8
November 2012, Stoker was honoured with a Google Doodle on Google's homepage commemorating his 165th birthday.[24][25]
An annual
festival takes place in Dublin, the birthplace of Bram Stoker, in honour of his
literary achievements. The 2014 Bram Stoker Festival, which encompassed
literary, film, family, street and outdoor events ran from 24–27 October in and
around Dublin City.[26][27] The
festival is supported by the Bram Stoker Estate[28] and
funded by Dublin City Council and Failte Ireland.
(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bram_Stoker)
Author Bio:
The
Vampire Queen1 aka Jodie Pierce has been writing since Jr. High School but was
unsatisfied with her teenage romance stories. One day, a friend handed her an
Anne Rice book and she found her inspiration. She’s been writing about vampires
ever since.
The Worm Farm
by Helen Bishop (Chapters 15 & 16):
by Helen Bishop (Chapters 15 & 16):
15
On the way to town I tried to
keep myself still and groaned a bit when Dan hit bumps. When we got there, he
took me to the Doc first, and said he'd be back to get me. Doc had me sit on
the edge of his table and got the nurse to help get my clothes off down to my
skivvies. He asked me what I remembered and I told him. Doc said," I don't
think he molested you, Charlie, at least not sexually" I blushed and he
asked the nurse to leave for a while. " Your underwear is clean and dry,
and there's no blood. Your face on the other hand is all bruised up, you lip is
busted, and I think you might have a cracked rib or two. Someone really wanted
to hurt you!" Doc stitched my lip and wrapped my ribs, he gave me a shot
for the pain, and told me to relax until Dan came back. I kinda dozed out on
the table, with the crinkly paper under me, and thought about the boy hanging
in my dungeon. It occurred to me that I might not have to 'disappear' him. He
got knocked out suddenly, and I had blind-folded his eyes before I hung him.
Maybe I could teach him his lesson and then let him go, it would be interesting
to see. The worms would miss him, I thought, laughing to myself, but maybe he'd
give them something to remember him by.
I must have fallen asleep,
because when Dan came he had to wake me up. Doc and he had talked about my
injuries, and Doc really wanted me to stay in town for a few days, in case I
had problems, but I told them I had to get back for the worms, and after a lot
of back and forth, Doc allowed me to go back to the farm, on my promise to call
twice a day for the next week, just to check in. I already had a follow-up
appointment scheduled for 2 weeks from today. I promised and Dan helped me with
my shirt and we left. Doc had fixed me up with some samples of pain-killers.
Before we went out to the
farm, Dan offered dinner at the diner, and I accepted, saying I was too tired
to do much after I got home. Dan said he would check around the house before he
left, but made me promise to call if anything happened.
When we got to the farm, I
didn't have to pretend to be tired and sore. After all, I had been beaten, and
dragged over rough ground. I expected Bobby was in worse shape now than I was,
because by now he'd been hanging by his arms for about 4 and a half hours. Dan stayed and talked to me a while, but I
kept yawning, and finally, he poured a cup of water from the refrigerator for
me and made sure I had the pills.
"I'll call you tomorrow, son," he said, "Try to sleep as long as you can. The worms will be okay for a while."
"I know Dan, I fed them this morning before they came." "Okay, Charlie, go to bed. I'll let myself out. Good night." I waved as he left. I waited to hear the patrol car leave and then waited another 15 minutes. Then I went down to him.
"I'll call you tomorrow, son," he said, "Try to sleep as long as you can. The worms will be okay for a while."
"I know Dan, I fed them this morning before they came." "Okay, Charlie, go to bed. I'll let myself out. Good night." I waved as he left. I waited to hear the patrol car leave and then waited another 15 minutes. Then I went down to him.
He was hanging there still
but there were signs that he had tried to get down. I decided that if I didn't
talk to him he wouldn't know who I was, and if he survived his lesson, maybe I
could let him go later. Maybe.
I put a wide swatch of duck-
tape over the blind-fold to make sure it stayed on, then I brought the hose out
and sprayed him down with the cold well water. If he wasn't awake before he was
now. I paid careful attention to his wrists where they had swollen between the
zip ties, and to his clothing. He started mumbling behind the gag, so I reached
up and pulled it off. He started cussing and screaming, so I turned the hose
full into his mouth, thankful that the eye tape would stay on through his
soaking. He shut up pretty quick. I slapped him full in the face, then backed
off. He started yelling again, and I responded with the hose. We did that a
couple more times, until his brain caught on. He got really quiet. I put down
the hose, dropping it so he could hear, then went for my box-cutter. I
carefully cut his shirt off, and the tee shirt underneath it too. He said, "What are you doing? Who are
you? Are you a pervert?" I picked up the hose and let it answer his
questions. Then I dropped the hose again and started to cut off his jeans. He
reached out with his foot and tried to kick me, and talked to the hose again.
It took him three more times to let me take the jeans without being kicked. He
was coming along. He whispered, "My arms- are they broken? They hurt so
bad." I dragged a box over underneath the hanging boy and let him stand on
it. It was low, he had to reach for it and wound up standing on his toes, but
at least the pressure was off his arms. He tried to kick again, and I picked up
the hose, and kicked the box away before I blasted him. He started crying, and
said, "No, I'm sorry, sorry, please." So I gave him back the box. I
left him his underwear. I brought up the hose and dialed back the nozzle to a
trickle and put it to his mouth. He drank, then choked, so I took it away. He
said, "more, please" and I gave him some more. "I'm hungry,
too," he said quietly. I did not respond. I hadn't quite decided whether
he was going home or to the worms. I told myself not to talk, and tried to
figure out how to give him a lesson without speaking.
I left him then, and went up
to the yard. I gave the worms their dinner, forked in some leaf mold and the
now-dead minnows, and watered them well. I had fully intended to kill the fish
before they went in, but felt bad that they had died because I forgot about
them.
I made some burgers on the
grill and sat out by the worms to eat them, every once in a while throwing a
chunk into their mass, like throwing bits to a pet. The worms weren't picky,
the pile heaved and moved, like the floor of snakes in that movie I had seen in
the hospital, and the bits disappeared, just like they were never even there. I
saved one hamburger back. No condiments, but a bun, and took it down to the
boy. He started when I opened the door, and I stood until he stopped swinging.
I knew he could smell the burger. I went up and held the sandwich near his
mouth. He tried to bite me, or it, and I took it away. I went for the hose, and
I know he heard it, because he calmed right down. I held the burger to his face
again and when he didn't lunge, put it to his mouth. He opened very carefully
and licked at it. A choked, "please?" so I gave all of it to him, a
bite at a time, giving him time to chew and swallow. I brought the hose back
up, on the low setting and let him drink.
I put the hose down, and put a bit of wood under his box so he could get
more of a foothold, and went away, turning off the lights as I went.
I got back up to the house in
time to hear the phone ringing, and hurried to get it before it stopped.
"Hello?" "Charlie? Are you okay? You sound out of breath?"
It was Dan. "I'm okay, was in the bathroom, and I guess I fell asleep on
the toilet. Wow, those pain pills are strong." "Are you sure you're
alright?" the deputy asked. "Yeah, I was a bit sore, but I took the
pill, and I was getting some rest. I
suppose I'll see you tomorrow?" "I can't in the morning, maybe not at
all tomorrow. We're out looking for Bobby Drums, seems he never came home.
Maybe he ran off, maybe he's lying low till he finds out how much trouble he's
in." "That's fine, Dan " I said, "I'm gonna laze around for
a few days, man the shed and get some rest." "Okay, Charlie, don't
forget to call Doc tomorrow." "I won't."
The next morning, I hurt. I hurt
so damn much, almost as badly as in the hospital after I had killed the woman
and Sir. I shuffled into the bathroom and lowered myself gingerly onto the
toilet, finished that and guided myself, using the walls for support, into the
shower. The water hurt at first, then it was better. Not a lot better, but
enough that I could get dressed. I held back on the pain pill. I didn't want to
get caught groggy if I was with the boy, and I figured the pain would keep me
aware, like it had when the woman and Sir were beating on me.
I went into the kitchen and
made some toast and coffee. The coffee burned my mouth and I wound up spitting
it out, thankfully into the sink. The toast hurt too, and I didn't want to
think about maneuvering my sore body around to make a better breakfast. It was
too bad Dan wouldn't be up this morning, he would've helped, but he was
searching...for someone who couldn't be found, at least not yet... if ever.
I waited a little, then
called Doc. He asked me how I was and I was truthful when I told him that it
hurt more today than it had right after. Doc asked if I had taken the pain
pill. I said, "Not yet, it says to take it with food, and I couldn't
really keep anything down yet." He asked if I had applesauce in the house,
and I did. He said that would probably stay down and I could take the pill.
"Then try to rest, boy," he said. " Rest is the only thing that
will help. Maybe you can find someone to help out with the worms."
I had thought of that before,
someone to come and help with the farm would be good, but what about the people
down in the dungeon? There were still so many people that needed to be
'corrected'.
Thinking of the dungeon, I
took the cold toast and spread some of the applesauce on it, saving the rest
for later and went on down. He was awake, and muttering to himself. I poked at
him, and he stopped. I went over and reached out with the toast. I waited until
he opened his mouth, then pushed the piece part-way in. He bit carefully, and
chewed, then he opened up for more. I felt like a momma bird, except the baby
was hanging. When the boy had finished all the toast, I brought the hose up,
and dribbled water into his mouth. I didn't want to get too close-he had been
violent before and he smelled like crap-literally. I tapped his hip with the
hose nozzle. He started, and I waited, then tapped him again. He seemed to get
the point, so I opened the hose up part-way and rinsed him off-starting at his
toes. At least he smelled better.
I put down the hose and
carefully rolled up the newspaper, set it near the door and spread some more
under the boy. It hurt horribly to make the bends, but I managed.
"Where am I?" he croaked out, barely whispering. "Who
are you and why am I here? " I had decided not to talk to him, if he found
out it was me, I'd have to send him out to play with the worms. I was thinking
how to teach him things, because it appeared he could learn-look how fast he
got the hint with the hose.
I reached out and grabbed his
mouth, like I had seen him grab his sister. I picked up the hose and pushed the
nozzle into his mouth. He tried to drink, but I had the water off. I pushed the
nozzle farther in and he started to shake his head back and forth. I pulled the
nozzle out and slapped him.
"What? What? Why are you
doing this? " he sputtered. I grabbed his face again and put the nozzle to
his lips. He refused to open his mouth, so I pinched his nose shut and kicked
out the box. When he opened his mouth I jammed the nozzle in, farther than
before, far enough to make him gag. He was wriggling like a fish on a hook and
trying to push out the nozzle. I pushed farther, almost going down his throat.
He was trying to scream around the nozzle, so I pulled it out and turned the
hose on full and sprayed his face. Then I slapped him so hard I hurt my hand.
He sagged in the bindings.
As soon as I could move
freely, and I was sure he was out. I put new duct tape on his mouth being
careful to avoid covering his nostrils, and the box back under his feet. I cut
off his underwear and stuck a piece of duct tape on the hair around his
penis-not all the way around, just on the thickest patch. I also put a piece on
his balls and a long piece down the crack of his ass. I wasn't being a pervert,
I knew from experience that those areas made a person pay attention. He would
lose some hair and maybe some skin in the process, but if it worked, he'd keep
on breathing. I cleaned up and turned
off the light, and took my bruised body back on up to the house.
I ripped up the newspaper and
flung it over the worm bed, forked in some loam and scattered pellets, then wet
it all down. Those pieces of newspaper disappeared before I had coiled up the
hose.
I went into the house, had
some applesauce and half a pain pill, and gingerly put myself on the recliner.
I pulled up a blanket and went away.
16
Someone was banging on the
side of the wall, bang, bang, bang! I sat up fast, then sort of fell back down.
The banging continued, and I got up, a little slower this time. I lowered the
recliner with the handle on the side, and thought I was going to throw up. The
noise continued, but as I was able to stand up, it became knocking on the door.
Hard knocking, repeated knocking, but even though I felt every knock in my head
like a hammer, it really was only knocking.
Using the walls along the
hallway and the counters in the kitchen I pulled myself to the door and
wrestled it open. Dan caught me as I pitched forward.
"Charlie! Jeez, are you
alright? I've been knocking forever." "I know," I muttered,
"you nearly killed me."
"I was worried sick! Nobody had heard from you, nobody had seen
you, and with Bobby Drums still missing, I thought the worst!"
"Could you please,
please stop shouting? My head is going to explode." "Oh, sorry
Charlie, I've just been so worried." Dan helped me lower myself to sit on
the stoop. I kept holding on to the door jamb, seriously dizzy. "But, why
were you worried? I called Doc before I took my nap..." "That was 2
days ago, son, two days while I was out running the county looking for the
Drums boy and Doc calling the office every hour. I gotta call him, he'll
probably want to see you." Dan used his cell to call Doc. "Yeah, he
was home. No he looks like crap, all pasty and sweaty. Wait, I'll ask. Charlie,
Doc wants to know how many pills you took." Charlie held up one finger.
"Doc? He took one, yeah, okay I'll be bringing him in, I'll see you in a
bit."
Dan had to help me out to his
car, I just couldn’t seem to walk straight. Dan put me into the front seat and
buckled me in without me doing anything to help. Dan was worried, he was also
worried about the dried blood he saw on the back of Charlie's shirt. Something
was definitely up.
Charlie lolled in the seat,
asleep again or unconscious, Dan didn't know which. He decided to get him to
the Doc as fast as he could. He called Doc as he drove. "Doc? It's me. We
are on our way. Should I just take him to the hospital? Yes, yes, he looks bad,
really bad. He couldn't walk to the car, and he's out again. Okay, I'll meet
you there!" When Dan reached the roadway he turned away from town, put on
the siren and flashing lights and drove as fast as possible towards the
hospital.
As the Deputy pulled into the
Emergency entrance to the hospital, staff members were coming out with a
stretcher, apparently Doc had called ahead to alert them. Dan started to
unbuckle the boy to lift him from the car, but the orderlies took over, putting
Charlie on the stretcher and running for the ER.
Dan parked and ran in and by
that time they had transferred Charlie onto an examination table and were
cutting off his clothes. He already had oxygen cannulas, and someone was taking
blood samples. As they were cutting his shirt off, and pulling it out from
under him it got stuck on something. They turned him to check and Dan saw a
bone coming through the skin of the boy's back. That's when all hell broke
loose. Bells were ringing, the ER on-call came running in with Doc, and people
were pushing the Deputy, none too gently, from the room.
Dan went and sat in the
waiting room, too wound up to read, or even to pace. That kid in there was
special to him. He hadn't known him long, but he'd grown very fond of him. If
he died from this, Bobby Drums had better run far and run fast. He should have
broken the door down, he should have come up last night, even though it was
late when they called the search for the night. "God, let him be
okay."
Twenty tense minutes later,
Doc came out to talk to Dan. "Is he okay?" "He will be, "
said Doc.
"He's going up to
surgery now, we have him stabilized. He had a reaction to the pain pill,
probably what made him sick and dizzy, but he apparently did chores for the
worms anyway, and one of his cracked ribs gave way and pushed through the skin
when he bent over or lifted something. He has some internal bleeding, and we
need to fix the bone, but he should come out of it okay. They'll be keeping
him, at least a couple days, to check him out and regulate his pain meds. He's
in good hands, Dan. Don't worry."
Dan called the office and
told them he'd be staying at the hospital until Charlie was out of surgery, and
then he'd be in. He sat and tried to
relax, and thought about how he had met Charlie and how he had become his good
friend. 'This should never have happened," he mused. "He never should
have been so far away and alone.'
Dan looked out the window for
a while as an idea came to him, then he made some calls. He had just hung up
when Doc and the ER doctor came into the room. "Is he...? ' Dan started.
"He's okay, Dan,"
said Doc. "We opened him up and stabilized the broken rib and checked the
others. We put him in a cast to keep him still, and we'll be keeping him a
week." " Can I go see him?" asked Dan. "Of course. Don't
tire him out."
Dan walked into recovery and
saw Charlie. He looked better already. He had some color in his face, instead
of the pale pastiness from before. "Charlie? Are you awake?"
"Yeah, Dan, thanks for
bringing me in. Doc explained everything."
Dan smiled. "But Dan, how can I stay here a week? The worms will
die." "I have a solution, Charlie, and I already set it up. My nephew
Phil, is unhappy in his job in the city. I talked with him and my sister about
the farm, and he's willing to come out and tend it while you're in here. If it
works out, we're all hoping he can work with you." "But, Dan, he
doesn't know how..." Dan interrupted, "I'm going to go and pick him
up and bring him to the farm, I know a lot about the feeding and stuff-just
from watching you, and I'll help. He's a good kid, Charlie, he'll keep your
farm safe." "Okay Dan."
Dan left soon after that, and
I tried to get comfortable on the bed. The orderlies came in and took me, my
bed and all to the elevator and up to a sunny room. An aide came in with a
menu, and helped me pick stuff for dinner, mostly broths and pudding, and put
everything near my hands since the cast didn't allow any upward movement.
After dinner, which was more
on me than in me, they washed me up, gave me a shot and I went away. Something
was bothering me, something kept sliding in and out of my brain, but I couldn't
catch it.
Author Bio:
Helen Bishop is a native of Pennsylvania and a
true fan of the written word. She works as a litigation paralegal; reads on
average 20 books a week; writes book reviews for an internet blog; writes
stories, poems and novels in various genres; and-just to fill out her dance
card-contracts with fellow authors to proofread and copy-edit their work before
it goes to the publisher. You can check her out at
thttps://www.facebook.com/HelenBishopAuthor?ref=bookmarks, and
thttps://www.facebook.com/HelenBishopAuthor?ref=bookmarks, and
https://www.writerreadr.wordpress.com
Rand’s Story: The Sixth Blood Lord’s pt.2
A Southern Hospitality Companion Story
By
Brien O’Raighne
CLUB CHAOS VIP ROOMS
Rand turns and face Szin
Diablos. There is a look of anger on his face. “What the hell did you do that
for?”
Szin raises a brow. “Now.
Now, Randall. I was just making things easier for you. This will make it easier
for you to create your new Vampire clan and assert yourself as the Sixth Blood
Lord of Storm City.”
Rand gulps. “You sure about
this? What if Metapol comes knocking on my door? They are not going to let this
go lightly, I promise you that.”
“Randall, you worry too much.”
Szin has a big grin on his face. He raises his flute into the air and begins
drinking more of his champagne. “Now, I wouldn’t waste your time talking to me.
They are not going to be out forever. I could change them into vampires in my
own right, but I find that coercing people to do it to others is more fun for
me.”
“You’re an ass, you know.”
Rand spouts.
Szin shrugs his shoulders.
“So, I’ve been told on numerous occasions. But nothing surprises me.”
CLUB CHAOS GROUND FLOOR ABOVE THE VIP ROOMS IN THE
BASEMENT
Matt turns from the bar and
looks across the room at his brother Lance. Lance taps his earpiece.
“We lost Roxy’s signal.”
“I know.” Mutters Matt.
“Brandon is going to kill us.”
“You think. Be glad she gave
birth and got back in shape for this, though.” Lance says. “We may have to call
in, Des.”
“She and Elise are at home
with the kids. No way am I calling in either of them.” Matt says. “We are not
putting our girls and kids at risk.”
“Risks are a part of
Destiny’s job, you know.”
“I know, bro. But you need to
think about, Belle.”
“Trust me, Matt, I am. She’s
our best chance to survive this.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I.” Lance says.
He pulls out his cell phone. He pulls up the contacts. On the contact list he
pulls up the list of contacts starting with D. The first name on the list is
Destiny. He pulls up the contact and taps the phone icon.
SYRACUSE GROVE APARTMENTS
Destiny is looking over her
finances as she hears her phone rings. She tosses down her checkbook and a
pencil in frustration as she reaches for her phone. She picks up the phone. She
looks at the caller ID: LANCE.
“Lance, I thought you were on
a mission.” She says.
“I am, Des. I need your help
here. Bring the V marked magazines and your guns.” Destiny hears.
She sighs. “Fine. I’ll drop
Belle off with Elise. She won’t like being awoken at this hour.”
“Elise will be okay with it.
Especially since you’re helping Matt and I.”
“I hope your right.”
“I know I am.” Destiny rolls
her eyes and chuckles as she hears the smugness from Lance. Then, his voice
changes. “Hurry!”
CLUB CHAOS
Roxanne emerges from the VIP
rooms and back onto the main floor. She zips over to Matt and knocks him onto
the ground. Then, she follows with Lance. She leans into Lance. There is a wry
smile on her face.
“Hello, Lance.” The sound of
her voice sends a chill up Lance’s spine.
“Roxy… Brandon is so gonna
hate us.” Lance mutters.
“Yeah, you let his wife get
turned into a Vampire. I don’t think he is going to like it at all.” Roxanne
says with a wry grin on her face. “But I cannot go back and face them until I
get everything under control.”
Then, she hears the sliding
of a pistol’s slide as it loads a bullet in the chamber. Roxanne turns. Her red
eyes see someone familiar. The pink haired hunter is pointing a gun at her.
“Leave my husband alone, Roxy. Don’t make me turn Brandon into a widower.”
Roxanne stands up. There is a
smile on her face. Destiny turns and sees several vampires behind her. A
familiar face is behind the vampires. One she hoped to never see again. A smile
emerges from his face. “Hello, Destiny. Long time no see, old friend.”
“Lucifer!”
Author Bio:
He is a connoisseur of sci-fi and paranormal films and books. He, also, lives in Houston with his son.
*Anyone looking for a GREAT editor/beta reader should
contact Jessica Sawa (same name on Facebook) or at her email: jessisawapromotions@gmail.com. She does excellent work and is even offering specials for
Nano pieces!!! Check her out!!!
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******If
you'd like to contribute an article or become a columnist, please contact me at
darknesswithin.jpierce@gmail.com. Also, please feel free to leave a comment
here letting us know what you think of the ezine! We love to hear from our
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Keep
Writing/Reading!
Jodie
Pierce
