Tuesday, May 17, 2011


The noxious vampire woman known as Kadeema continued to dig. The light from a yellow moon lighting the way. Her grunts heard only by the moths and night birds. Few humans from the village vemtured out this way. They heard the stories. They knew the history. Strange cargo rests in that ground, bodies unshriven by the church. Souls in thrall to unnamed powers. Children of the dead. And so she toiled unmolested, a night-fiend at her work. Lorennzo heard her voice. He felt her call. It calmed him,  for salvation (of a sort) was at hand. So he fought to compose his mind and lie still. Now a human carbinerro (the local dialect for 'miner.') would have taken three or four days to uncover the crypt. But this somewhat more than human made it in six hours. Cuts and scraps spangled her body. She ignored them. The red hot pain would soon subside. A vampirina heals in heartbeats.

 And as  to Lorenzo? He felt the soft thud of her strong, peasant feet upon the lid. She knelt down. She spoke to him, cooing softly. But each valley has its own tongue, so her words were lost, yet the music of her voice told it all. She found him. She rescued him. And a lonely vampirina had her vampirino now. Oh, but would he stay with her? How could he do otherwise? She could not even imagine it. There are secrets. There is knowledge. He would need her. She could help him. Such is natural. For in the wild world creatures often band together. Look to the wolves. Observe the sharp-beaked crow hordes, as they tear across the sky.

First she clasped her hands before her, as humans do in prayer. Then rearing up on her knees, she steeled herself  and brought them crashing down against the fire-hardened wood with a force and a passion known only to her kind. Ten times. Twenty times. Brittle cracks appeared. Shards of wood flew all about, as the screams from he still trapped below rose up to join her own. Then she found a stone, a hand axe lost when ice lay all about. She hefted it and used it like a true Cro-Magnon woman, making quick work of the almost shattered lid.

Lorenzo gasped, sucking the crisp night air down into the very core of his body. Did he still need it? No. But human comforts die hard. Some vampires never let them go. With a mighty heave she grabbed his arms  and pulled him to his feet. But where were the chains? How had he slipped them?  What magic made it so? Later, he'd  come to understand the talents vampires possess and would become quick and adept at using them. But in these first hours sublimation was a mystery. His body did so reflexively, passing through the chains in a mad, panicked rush. There! See? Look into the crypt. The thousand links still lie there, tangled like a nest. And he kicked free of them, along with the gory, slippery tissue that was once his human skin.

They clambered up to the surface, two feral, naked creatures , running wild through the night. And a new terror was set loose upon the land, a terror our more domesticated twosome would one day soon encounter. 

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