Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Annie and The Ghoul... down in the darkness.. 3/13/13

The monster touched her cheek. Annie stood there, motionless and 'dead.' She heard him whisper something in an unknown language. And the darkness was palpable and absolute, as if the air itself was made from dense, black velvet. Then she hissed and lashed out raking his hand with her needle sharp incisors. The ghoul recoiled. And in that instant she sublimated through the air, coming to rest far, far down the track, but she could hear him lapping up the blood. 

Though the ghoul knew where she was and in a series of carefully constrained leaps (so as not to crack his head upon the ceiling) streaked down to join her, desperate to have his meal. Vampire flesh has a certain, gamy tang, you know. And even young ones, such as she, possess exotic flavor.

Annie heard the labored breathing. She heard the gravely dirt crunch beneath his shoes. But she knew these tunnels too. They were her labyrinth, her playground, her escape.  A skinny, little, white girl  hand flashed down, locking around an old, dry femur  with a jagged, dangerous end. Come on. She knows every bone pile in the place... and most of the former owners, as well.

The cadaverous flesh eater crashed down before her. She felt his tomb-like stink on her cold, soft skin, as he exhaled and said - 'dirty, dirty, little girl, my dirty little girl.'... But the ghoul hesitated for a moment and chuckled, contemplating pleasures to come. And in that singular instant she lunged up with her ancient spear, slicing through the fabric of his pants and plunging into the soft meat of his groin.

Then she heard a squishing sound and that stopped him, but two heartbeats later she did a quick, little staccato dance on his greasy head for good measure, before vaulting off to safety down the tracks.

But ghouls heal too, you know... and there'll be hell to pay...

The night world has such contrasts. Tomas at his prayers.... Baylah singing 'standards' from the great American songbook in her jewel-like little lounge far down the way. Sarah fills crystalline vials with droplets of her restorative blood for darktime distribution to those worthy of salvation. And Leo kills, just like a cat, for that makes him so glad.

When you go out on the streets tonight, you're in for a big surprise...

Ah... Philadelphia After Dark, awash in the glow of a chill, March moon.

An old town full of tales... and teeth and claws, as well...

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