Short Story Sunday: Friends Forever

“My son is living a nightmare no child, nobody should ever have to deal with.”

Dr. Michael Trent spoke with the police for God knows how many times in the past three months. This time it had been about Christopher’s death. He ran his hand through his hair and sent the detectives out the front door of his home. Upstairs Hunter lay in bed in a state between life and death, sanity and insanity, between the real work and a nightmare.

It had been just another camping trip. The five boys had been camping in the woods on the edge of town for years – since they were in 6th grade. They were good kids. The parents never had to worry about them getting into trouble.

On a warm summer night, when they were all sixteen and seventeen, they camped together for the last time.

After they’d all climbed into their sleeping bags, after a night of hotdogs, smores, a few swiped beers, and a lot of talk about school, girls, and their plans after graduation, it happened.

Hunter, Christopher, Dylan, Kyle and Sam. Best friends forever. They’d always be with each other. Always.

While asleep under the stars something grabbed Hunter’s sleeping bag and dragged him into the woods. The other boys could hear the trashing, the crunching, the tearing, and the screams.

Something huge, like a shadow, like a bear, or as one of the boys put it “The Hulk”, stood over Hunter and looked from the darkness with glowing dark eyes. It could have been anything.

Hunter’s once handsome face was an unrecognizable bloody pulp. His left arm was mangled and almost fleshless. It was a miracle that the was alive.

That was in July.

On the night of August 1st Dylan was walking home through the park they’d all played in as kids. He stopped to sit on a swing, thinking about what had happened three weeks before. He never thought of himself as vain, but his friends joked he looked like an Italian Model. Poor Hunter. Tears flowed down his face.

Then mid thought Dylan was slammed to the ground by an unknown force. His head was held as if in a vice. Pain like no other exploded his entire being as someone, something  ripped off his entire lower jaw. In the morning his mutilated body was found by a woman walking her dog. She never slept easy again.

A few weeks later Kyle was at the grocery store picking up flour for his mom. She was making him a birthday cake. She knew he was in mourning for his best friend but she wanted him to have the cake. Sam and Christopher would be there.

Kyle never made it home. He was slammed against his car and an unknown thing, a creature, something too violent to be a man, took his arm. It tried to get at his face but was scared off with the yelling of other grocery store patrons.

By then nobody in town let their teenagers out at night. On a Wednesday night Sam took the garbage out to the street. The creature jumped him and took his scalp. Then it took his heart. The scalp was never found. His heart was found in the garbage can, still warm.

As for Christopher, poor Christopher, was home alone while his parents were out at a party. It drained his blood. His face, like Hunter’s was mangled. The only things left were his brown eyes and his right ear. The neighbors called the police when the two family dogs would stop howling.

After the death of Christopher the attacks stopped. The creature or whatever it was had left. Still the threat of violence and unknown horrors lingered over the town.

Two years later Kyle started his first year of college. He’d decided to go to the local Community College for two years and then transfer to UC Irvine to study medicine, or maybe political science. He liked the beach and sunshine. It would be a good school for him. Getting along with one arm wasn’t that bad. It was the nightmares that paralyzed him.

Hunter was accepted to Princeton. It was on the other side of the country and away from his memories. He’d always be in touch with Kyle. They’d always be friends.

As he walked across campus girls smiled at him and approached him. Other young men shook his hand and gave him bro hugs. He’d smile and was thankful to be alive. The scars were fading, thanks to his dad’s skills as a plastic surgeon. Actually, he looked good. He looked different but kind of handsome he thought.

He missed his friends but they’d always be with him. Christopher’s ear and nose, Kyle’s left arm, Dylan’s jaw, and Sam’s thick brown hair.

Winter came and the memories of the horror was starting to fade. Dr. Trent was hanging Christmas lights, humming Jungle Bells. He heard something in the bushes. Darn it, the cat must have gotten out. He glanced over and called the cat’s name. It was the last thing he ever did.

~ end

Tangled Tales

Looking for more Horror to get you into the Halloween spirit? Check out the three WPaD (Writers, Poets, and Deviants) horror anthologies. All are available on Amazon, B&N, Kobe and other fine online book sellers. Proceeds go to help support our fellow writers with MS (multiple sclerosis) through research and support organizations. I am in awe of my fellow writers included in these books (seriously in awe.)

Halloween is almost here so keep checking back for more scary stories, and fun Halloween posts.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Dawn of the Undead – A Very Short Vampire Story

Dawn of the Undead – A Very Short Vampire Story

It had been a long night of love and blood and fun. So many Halloween parties. It was a good night to be a Vampire.

Jon pulled up to his house and sat in the driveway for a few minutes as he checked his messages. The sky grew lighter in the distance. Soon the sun would be up and he’d be in bed, shutters closed, dreaming sweet dreams of the night skies and warm women with long necks.

As he stepped out of the car something grabbed him and slammed him down in the driveway. Flat on his back he looked up into the face of a Vampire Hunter. Damn it.

“We’re going to hold you here until the sun comes up and you fry,” said a man dressed in black.

“Honestly Dude you’re going to have to cut out my heart or cut my head off to kill me. i guess you could burn me to a crisp but that takes forever. You might want to reconsider. Come on in and we’ll talk about this over a beer or something…” Jon was trying to stall them. The sun wasn’t going to hurt him much.

Turning his head Jon could see the thin ribbon of pink coming up over the hills. Dawn. It was his best hour. It was the time he’d write his best work. It was the time he’d relax and gather his thoughts. It is his time and they were not going to take it from him.

“Guys, I have a deadline on an article for Vampire Review. I have to get it done this morning. You’re making a mistake.”

The Vampire Hunters raised their knives.

A few hours later the sun was in the sky, the birds singing, squirrels ran through the trees. Jon took off his work gloves and put away his shovels. This wasn’t the way he’d planned on spending his morning, but when you’re a Vampire… sometimes you have to face the sun and do what you have to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From ghoulies and ghosties

And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!

~ end

 

We’re counting down to Halloween. Keep coming back for more stories and other Halloween fun.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Short Story Sunday: Small Talk

Tangled Tales

Small Talk

The woman with the Mamie Eisenhower bangs and Cleopatra eye liner took a sip of sparkling wine and said, “I think they should all go to jail. Every single one of them.”

Max glanced over and smiled. Her high child-like voice made his head hurt. He knew she’d cultivated that sound for years. What the fuck was wrong with some people? She smiled back at him and winked.

Walking though the room he picked up bits and pieces of conversations. Always the charmer, he’d smile and blink his eyes one time in a way that would seduce the dead. Well, the living too. He smiled at his own joke.

Just two hours before he’d been with Mehitabel, his hands in her hair, his mouth on hers, her legs around…

“Max?”

He turned at the sound of his name.

“Max, so glad you could make it. You seemed deep in thought. Hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“You’d never disturb me Marc.” Max gave his old friend a one armed bro-hug.

“So when is the wedding?”

“I’m not sure. We’re still working on it.”

“Don’t take too my man long or she’ll run.”

It had been almost two years since Max asked Mehitabel to marry him. Then again why hurry? He’d been involved with her on and off for the past one hundred and forty nine years, since she was twenty and he was twenty one. A few more years wouldn’t make a difference.

Max spoke with Marc a bit more and moved on towards the bar. He glanced over to where Tim Peoples stood surrounded by an audience.

“Oh my god, Max,” said a woman, breaking herself away from Tim’s group. “How are you?” She kissed him on the cheek. He gave her a hug and a dazzling Max smile.

“Great. How are you Lydia?” He hoped it was Lydia. It could have been Linda.

“Good. How about this house? Fantastic isn’t it.”

“Beautiful,” said Max. “I need to find out who their interior designer is.” He couldn’t believe those words just came out of his mouth.

“If I find out I’ll let you know,” said Lydia, then she squeezed his arm and moved on.

“Max,” Tim called out. “Come over here.”

Max cringed inside but smiled. “Hey, Tim. Good to see you.”

Tim leaned inclose to Max, “Check out the ass on that one,” he said as he pointed out a woman in a tight green dress. “That is my goal for tonight. Hey, did you hear about my new car?” Tim showed a picture on his smart phone to Max.  “Eighty Thousand dollars worth of pure testosterone. What are you driving these days? Still wasting your time in that truck?”

Max’s friend Jayne took his arm. “Sorry Tim, I have to borrow Max for a bit.” She led Max away from the group. “Women used to find Tim attractive but not much anymore.”

“Being a douche takes the finish right off of those rose colored goggles,” said Max.

“Indeed it does. Where’s my girl tonight?”

“Mehitable? Um, she’ll might be here in a bit. She said she had a few things to take care of first.”

“She hates these things.”

“So do I.”

“Why’d you come then?”

“Had to. It was expected. If I didn’t show it would be noticed.”

Jayne shrugged. So far she was the only other Vampire there. Later there might be more. Max hoped there would be more. He hated events where he couldn’t be himself. Being charming was never a problem, it just wasn’t always enjoyable.

At the bar Max got a Martini that was all gin and an olive. Jayne ordered a Bloody Mary with an extra shot of vodka.

The two old friends scanned the room.

“So what do you think?” Max asked. “You hungry?”

“What? Dinner?”

“Sure. Dinner. I don’t think Mehitabel is going to show. We have to eat somewhere.”

“Let’s go somewhere else,” said Jayne. “The menu here is kind of boring.”

“Indeed it is,” said Max, downing his drink. “Let’s go.”

Jayne smiled and took his arm, as they went out into the night and away from a night of endless small talk.

~ end

 

 

 

Short Story Sunday: Peaches

Margaret Mary Jones talked about leaving her home planet on a ship full of sixty other travelers looking for another place to call home.

Justin had a hard time getting his mind around the whole concept. He could never imagine willingly getting into a giant tin can and blasting off into the unknown.

Everyone else on board had died. When he first entered the ship it reminded him of the time his mom’s batch of peach preserves had gone bad and all of the jars turned a nasty color of brownish gray, and the lids popped out due to the toxic bubbling inside. Peaches. These were people. He’d never get the images out of his head.

Margaret Mary Jones was a journalist and an artist. She had all of the scientific facts down. She knew the social implications of the actions of her former leaders. She believed, or at least wanted to believe what she was told by her leaders, and the scientists of her planet. She even started to listen to the religious leaders who for a rare moment supported her views.

She’d asked Justin to call her Maggie. It was less formal than Margaret Mary. It fit more with the brown haired woman who sat on his porch looking out over the pine trees and lake behind his cabin. She’d spend hours watching the birds and writing in her notebooks. He’d gotten her a dozen of the note books, the composition books that high school and college students use, along with colored pens. It made Maggie happy.

Maggie worked with the scientists, the journalists, and the government officials. She freely shared information. Her planet no longer existed so there was nothing at home to protect. That and the fact that she’d come from a toxic, violent place. Everything, including family and friends was gone.

Justin watched her from the cabin as she carefully placed her notebook and pens back into her tote bag. She stood and stretched in the moonlight, then dropped her robe.

“Come swim with me,” Maggie called up to Justin.

The scientist in Justin marveled at her beauty. She was the definition of desire… at first. He watched as she put her feet in the water.

“Come in. It’s lovely,” she called to him.

Two other ships had landed beside Maggie’s. All were full of putrid rotted bodies with the sickening sweet smell of rotted fruit mixed with the smell of putrified flesh. Those ships also had survivors. Two men, and another women. One was a historian. There was also a biologist and another journalists.

The ships had mostly been full of politicians, celebrities, and religious leaders. A total of 1,200 ships had gone out but the four survivors didn’t know what happened to them.

Other than some slight differences the survivors DNA was identical to that of the inhabitants of Justin’s world. Nobody could figure it out. Justin knew the difference, but declined to say. He honestly liked these four strangers. They were witty, kind, and had adapted well to their new planet. He marveled at how well they’d adjusted. But he’d also warned them to be cautious. “Be extremely cautious,” he’d told them.

“Come on,” called Maggie, again from the edge of the lake.

Justin pulled off his clothes, grabbed a towel and went to join her.

Maggie put out her hand and smiled, then laughed, showing her fangs, in the light of the autumn moon.

 

~ End

 

Tangled Tales

This is my first new story for a few weeks, written over a cup of coffee this Sunday morning. More new Tangled Tales to come each Sunday. 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Juliette’s Monday Book Club: A Trio of Escapes – Fiction, Travel, Poetry

Under Currents

By Nora Roberts

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I’m currently reading Under Currents.

I’ve been reading books by Nora Roberts for years. I’ve loved her stand alone books. I’ve loved the trilogies. The books in the J.D. Robb In Death Series are my absolute favorites.

This one is different. Below is the official description but that doesn’t describe this book completely. I had a difficult time reading the first few chapters. The descriptions of violence and brutal child abuse were graphic and disturbing. Sure, I read a lot of horror but this was beyond that. I’m not saying don’t read it. Stories of abuse need to be told. Stories of surviving need to be told. Stories of overcoming such horrors need to be told.

Do I like the book? So far so good. I’m still reading. That’s a beautiful thing.

Official Description: For both Zane and Darby, their small town roots hold a terrible secret. Now, decades later, they’ve come together to build a new life. But will the past set them free or pull them under?

Zane Bigelow grew up in a beautiful, perfectly kept house in North Carolina’s Blue Ridge Mountains. Strangers and even Zane’s own aunt across the lake see his parents as a successful surgeon and his stylish wife, making appearances at their children’s ballet recitals and baseball games. Only Zane and his sister know the truth, until one brutal night finally reveals cracks in the facade, and Zane escapes for college without a thought of looking back…

Years later, Zane returns to his hometown determined to reconnect with the place and people that mean so much to him, despite the painful memories. As he resumes life in the colorful town, he meets a gifted landscape artist named Darby, who is on the run from ghosts of her own.

Together they will have to teach each other what it means to face the past, and stand up for the ones they love.

 

Riding The Iron Rooster
By Train Through China

By Paul Theroux

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Written in 1988, this book was recommended to me by my dad. I couldn’t put it down. Riding The Iron Rooster took me on a live long love of books about travels, but this one always stands out.

Official Description: Paul Theroux, the author of the train travel classics The Great Railway Bazaar and The Old Patagonian Express, takes to the rails once again in this account of his epic journey through China. He hops aboard as part of a tour group in London and sets out for China’s border. He then spends a year traversing the country, where he pieces together a fascinating snapshot of a unique moment in history. From the barren deserts of Xinjiang to the ice forests of Manchuria, from the dense metropolises of Shanghai, Beijing, and Canton to the dry hills of Tibet, Theroux offers an unforgettable portrait of a magnificent land and an extraordinary people.

Riley Love-Lyrics

by James Witcomb Riley

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Years ago, so many I can hardly remember, I picked up a small red volume of poetry at a book store. This one always stuck with me.

Her Beautiful Hands

O your hands–they are strangely fair!
Fair–for the jewels that sparkle there,–
Fair–for the witchery of the spell
That ivory keys alone can tell;
But when their delicate touches rest
Here in my own do I love them best,
As I clasp with eager acquisitive spans
My glorious treasure of beautiful hands!

Marvelous–wonderful–beautiful hands!
They can coax roses to bloom in the strands
Of your brown tresses; and ribbons will twine.
Under mysterious touches of thine,
Into such knots as entangle the soul,
And fetter the heart under such a control
As only the strength of my love understands–
My passionate love for your beautiful hands.

As I remember the first fair touch
Of those beautiful hands that I love so much,
I seem to thrill as I then was thrilled,
Kissing the glove that I found unfilled–
When I met your gaze, and the queenly bow,
As you said to me, laughingly, “Keep it now!”
And dazed and alone in a dream I stand
Kissing this ghost of your beautiful hand.

When first I loved, in the long ago,
And held your hand as I told you so–
Pressed and caressed it and gave it a kiss,
And said “I could die for a hand like this!”
Little I dreamed love’s fulness yet
Had to ripen when eyes were wet,
And prayers were vain in their wild demands
For one warm touch of your beautiful hands.

Beautiful Hands! O Beautiful Hands!
Could you reach out of the alien lands
Where you are lingering, and give me, to-night,
Only a touch–were it ever so light–
My heart were soothed, and my weary brain
Would lull itself into rest again;
For there is no solace the world commands
Like the caress of your beautiful hands.

This is a charming volume of poetry that is near and dear to me. Today some might consider this book might be considered overly sentimental or by some sappy. Screw em. I like it. You can like it too. You can like anything you want.

Inscribed on the inside:

To the Elect of Love, – Or Side-By-Side
In Raptest Ecstasy, Or Surrendered Wide
By was That ear No Message To Or Fro
Between The Loved And Lost Of Long Ago.

My version was published in 1905. The book originally came out in 1883.

You can get copies of this online (free digital) or find it in used bookstores. There are also new paperback versions.

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summerreading

Happy Reading.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Captured Bride: A weird little story of romance (sort of), personal growth, and Vampires.

Captured Bride: A weird little story of romance (sort of), personal growth, and Vampires.

I was minding my own business, outside tending my herb garden, when someone throws a blanket over my head, hauls me up on a horse and takes me to God only knows where.

After what seemed like forever, combined with a lot of screaming and cursing on my part, we stopped.

When the blanked was taken off I found myself in a hilltop sort of mini castle. It was absolutely beautiful. Standing in front of me was a tall man with golden hair. He certainlly was handsome but I was not in the mood to ponder his good looks.

“What the Hell is going on?” I was in no mood for making all nice.

“You are to be my bride,” he said in a serious voice.

“I don’t think so. You don’t even know me.”

“I have chosen you.”

“Listen up Prince Charming. I might be full of nasty sexually transmitted diseases. I might snore. I might poison your food bit by bit until you can only sit in your chair and drool while I take control of your empire. I might sleep with your brother. I might have stinky feet and fart in bed like an old hound dog.”

“I was tasked as the second son of the Clan Chief to find a bride. I’ve been watching you for a while. You’re perfect.”

“You abducted me.”

“That is our way.”

“Then change your way. Holy cow, you can’t build a marriage on distrust and violence. Get out of your comfort zone and marry a woman who can be your best friend, not just a house keeper and sexual slave.”

“The man must rule the house.”

“Alright, you’re a smart guy or I’m going to assume you’re a smart guy. Listen up. I know some of the things I’m saying sound weird. You’ve been brought up to believe women are subservient and property of the males. It is difficult to let go of old beliefs. Changes is difficult. But so is a bad marriage. Before you speak let me tell you a few more things. In a society where women are equal to men everyone ends up more successful, happier and your children tend to thrive. It is a win-win situation for everyone.”

“Then be my bride and change things.” Then he took my hand and led me to the bed. It was a gorgeous bed and he was totally hot but I did not like where this was going.

He stood before me and started to unbuckle his belt.

“NO NO NO show a girl a little romance,” I yelled. “You can’t just take me like this.”

“Let’s get this over with. You will do as I say.”

“Come closer and I will rip your throat out.”

He grabbed my shoulders to push me down and I grabbed his wrists. He stopped, images of terror filled his brain. I filled him with fear as his eyes locked on mine.

“You’re a witch,” he gasped as he dropped his arms to his side and stepped back.

“No I’m not a witch.” I motioned for him to sit and opened a bottle of wine. “Let’s talk. Do you have a name?”

“Aleric.”

“Good start. I’m…”

“Olivia. I know your name.” Great. He was stalking me.

“Alright Aleric, you have to listen to me. You think you’re some manly man but I’ll end up ripping your throat out if you try to touch me again. Forget all the crap about men and women that you know. We are all equal in the eyes of whatever God you choose to worship or not worship.”

We talked through the night. At first I thought he was dumber than a rock but I believe I got through to him. He returned to the village and married a girl he’d known since childhood. She’d always been considered “forward” and considered trouble by the locals. Aleric had always been in love with her but she was too much like a man. Now he had the courage to take her as his bride.

Years later I visited him. He was the Chief by then. His clan and town was thriving. I found him in a large hall playing ball with his grandchildren. He looked up at me in shock.

“Olivia. No, you must be her daughter or grand daughter.”

“I don’t age Aleric. I wouldn’t have made a good wife because first of all I would have driven you nuts, second because I’m a Vampire. I could have killed you but I saw something good in you. I saw a willingness to change. I saw hope. I’ve watched you over the years. I’m proud of what you’ve done with your life and your clan.”

He looked at me with grim eyes. “So do you want a reward now or do I owe you a favor.”

I smiled. “Not at all. I was just passing through. Listen, I’m not one of those Vampires who lords over a population ruthlessly draining everyone of blood and money. I don’t do that kind of shit. I just wanted to let you know that I’m proud of you. You could have spent the rest of your life being a brainless jerk like all the other men in your village but you married a woman you love and respected her. You built a life together and passed that respect on to your children. Good job Aleric.”

“Did you find love?” His question caught me off guard.

“Kind of sort of. You know, I’m not like you. My heart is kind of a flighty thing. Vampires are like that.”

“I’m sure he is a man with a true heart and a brave soul.”

I smiled then left him to his happy life.

Later that week when I arrived home my tall cool Vampire man was waiting for me. “How was your walk down memory lane my dear?”

“Alright I suppose. Do you think people will always be so stupid?”

He took me in his arms and nuzzled my neck. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out in a couple hundred years. In the meantime, I have a propisition for you.” We spend the rest of the evening in each other’s arms. In fact, we still spend evenings in each other’s arms.

I think about that time now so long ago. Had I been a regular girl I might have ended up as the bride of a second son of a Chief. Or I might have ended up in the arms of a Vampire. I did end up in the arms of a Vampire but that is another story for another day.

~ end

 

Tangled Tales

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

And why yes, you might have seen this story before (2015 and February 2019.)  I’m out and about with all kinds of family and Vampire stuff, but I’ll have new posts in the coming week. xoxoxo