THE BIRTH OF BRITE EYES

I do not enjoy relating these things to you, but I am a narrator and it is my duty to do so. This is not a choice Zebulon would make, but I must do it.....The Red Paint young man went down toward his doom. They did not hear much noise up above. It was all largely silent and clinical. Papa sat the youth down on a chair next to the bed. Annie wasn't sleeping. She was waiting, like a baby eaglet, ready to tear the vole apart. Papa kneeled down on the floor and whispered something into the young man's ear. I know what it was, yet such things are private. Perhaps if you encounter him in the world to come he will tell you? The human quietly nodded his head and waited. He cried a bit, maybe a tear or two. But not much. By this time Annie was quite aggitated. She clenched and unclenched her fists. She was trembling. Papa stroked the young man's cheek. Then he turned to his new born deathling and gestured for her to begin. She  shifted over a bit and put her skinny arms around his neck. He shuddered. She kissed him. But soon it was not a kiss. She had broken the skin, instinctively finding the right vessel. And then she began to feed. Cotton candy, chicken nuggets, Reeses Pieces? No, this was better. This was richer and deeper in an unescapable fundamental way. They were united. And they stayed that way till every drop of his blood and every bit of his life was drawn into her. She let him fall to the floor and sighed. Papa kicked away the quilts and blankets. They watched, as the empty human husk ignited into the eternal cold, blue flame and disappeared.  When it was over, she looked her 'father' in the eyes and giggled. Then she traced her finger through the remnant of grease on the floor, brought it to her nose and said yuck. Papa playfully mussed her hair. She impatiently sucked her teeth and smoothed it back. He helped her clean up in the little bathroom. She changed into a child's outfit made up of this and that pilfered from the wardrobes of Marianne and Celeste, the two elfin girls. Then she took his hand. They climbed up to the main floor, walked brazenly passed the others and out into the unsuspecting night. Everyone heard the quiet, heavy purr of the engine as they drove away. The Old Woman possitively trilled with delight, as she gathered up her tools and went downstairs to wash the mortal's remnants away. Sarah broke down and cried. Jonathon went over to comfort her. The other Red Paint people, maybe two or three, joined hands in prayer. Edith just sat there looking down at the table. wilkravitz closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. They were in shock and no one knew what to do. But after a few heartbeats, Jonathon took out his cell phone. He called Baylah and told her to stay away. And the ersatz fire, in the well made Amish mantle shed its comforting orange glow upon it all.

DARK HORIZONS

Papa took Annie into the thickest part of this urban woodland, to a place where even the stars looked new. He held  her and whispered of the life to come. She was still. Her eyes were opened, drinking in the silvery spangled darkness. Everything was apparent to her. Each sleeping squirrel burned bright. And he was not concerned for his costly attire, as they sat on a dias of cold, dead leaves and pine needles. Icy patches commandeered the forest floor, sharing it with a sugar spun frosting of snow. A greeting card to herald the birth of a new little deathling, a spiritually unencumbered like-eater. Now sometimes the shedding of the skin comes early and sometimes it happens later. Annie, possessing the body of a child, would shed fast. Tiny skin breaks were already starting to appear. She whimpered at the strangeness of it,but he held her close, whispering words of encouragement and security.It happened quickly. The sticky, mortal mask slid off. He removed her dress and dipped it in snow, then used it as a rag to wipe away the remnants. She shivered, still remembering the danger cold could pose. But that was just for mortals, not for her. He took off his suit coat and wrapped her in it. Then he picked her up and carried her back to the refuge. Wide eyed., woodland life forms (some known and some unknown) silently watched them pass........................................................... And those inside never moved. Each held their place, staring off into space, comtemplating what was to come. The heavy, metal door opened. Papa entered carrying his new, little , prize. He walked right passed them and went downstairs to the sleeping rooms in the cellar, where he placed her in a bed of quilts, tucked in all snug and tight. She slept. But it was a fitfull sleep, for the hunger was beginning to build. He went back upstairs, walked into the middle of the open space and looked around. They knew what he meant to do. The silence in that room was beyond silence  Papa studied them all, paying special attention to the mortals. He focused on Edith. Her shoulders slumped. But then he moved on, settling on one of the Red Paint People, a young man who sat motionlessly holding a book. Papa looked at him and said - You, come with me......... The young man did not move. Edith spoke. She said - No, take me........ Papa ignored her. The young man found his voice and quietly responded. He said - No, I will go. It's all right. I'll go. My conscience will live on......

THE BAD SEED

I could hear the elves and cherubs bouncing off the walls downstairs. They knew what was happening. They remembered their own transformations a universally painfull experience for each and every one of them. At the time, while it was unfolding, they were transfixed. But after it was over and there was no turning back things were different. That's when the cold sets in. That's when the hunger starts. Some of them tried to stay with their human families. They tried to sit in their old place. They tried to sleep in their old bed. But the vessel containing their old life was broken. Loved ones shrieked and ran away. Priests came bearing heavy, ornate, silver magician's tools. Prayers were screamed. Spells were cast. Doors were slammed. And they were dead.....at least to that world. Yet if they had the good fortune to avoid the vampire catchers, especially the vile breed specializing in children, a new existence opened up to them. They'd make common cause with others of their breed, infesting the dark, forgotten crannies of the world. A ruined charnel house, a damp, stone, oozing crypt. What did it  matter? Just so it was dark. And their eyes grew wide, adapting to the  absence of the light. True, most refrained from killing their victims outright. A drink tonight. A drink tomorrow. And some next week. And then the sorrow. For a slow draining ultimately leads to death. But the small ones have their needs and cannot avoid it. The Old Woman clapped her hands. She cackled like a banshee. The rest of the us sat there, afraid to make a move. Papa progressed to the next step. He raked his strong and carefully manicured nails into the skin of his throat. The blood immediately began to flow. Then he lifted up his little demi-corpse, tenderly supporting her fractured neck, so that her mouth was level to the wound, as he nursed her with the crimson milk of death. A tiny tongue peeked out from between her blue and icy lips. She stole a taste. Look, she likes it. Watch her lap in up. See her drink and drink. Hear his low and throaty laughter, as he lures her ever farther from the sun. She shuddered. She burped. She actually did. And it was over. Her bones were healed. She sighed and leaned back, as he craddled and rocked her. Sarah cried softly. Edith whispered a prayer. The one or two Red Paint People present just stared into the middle distance, revealing nothing. wilkravitz silently witnessed it all, waiting for an opportunity to type it up and add it to our story. That's when Papa spoke. He said - See? No harm done. She is as good as new........  He rose to his feet, holding her close to him and said - Please forgive my sudden outburst. I have a temper and cannot help it........ Then he looked at me and added - Jonathon...Tomas...or how ever you style yourself, just don't lie to me again.........  We watched as he walked toward the heavy, metal front door, which opened before him, and carried her out into the cold, winter night......

TOUGH LOVE AMONG THE UNDEAD

So we sat there, listening to the humans munch their food and watching little Annie squeal as her new best pseudo human friend dribbled the elixir of life into her already ruby stained lips. Boy, are we in  for it. Sarah drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. She still had that classic, mortal impatience. How appealing. Papa pretended not to notice. The smile never left his face. He said - Why did you never try to free me?...... I stammered. I coughed. And then I said - What could I have done? I was just an 'orphan'. Do you think I actually understood what had happened to me? I didn't know where they were taking you. I found out about that later, much later........He added - What was 'much later' to you is only 'after a bit' to me. I saved you. You would have been killed. The Crusaders would have come back. They were still in the area. They would have burned you or hacked you to death or used you for target practice. But I prevented that. Was it so easy to put me out of your mind?........... I said - Please, I am sorry........That broke the spell. He burned. His face turned hard. He crossed his arms, crushing Annie close to him. She looked frightened. She turned to the Old Woman. But that dried up crone just froze and did nothing. .....He whispered - Don't lie to me. I tasted thousands during my imprisonment. They forced me too. They....addicted me. And through those souls I saw the world. Most of us can sense things. But I know things. And you are a liar........ I didn't know what to say. No, I was afraid to talk. I was afraid to say anything. He started to stroke Annie's hair, brushing it back from her face. His diamond pinkie ring sparkled in the ersatz firelight. He chuckled. He kissed her. The humans did not move so much as an eyelash. Everything stopped. I was afraid to shift my gaze..........He looked at me and said - Well?......But I said nothing.........He said - And?........ But I remained silent........He said - Now I'm getting angry.......His hands resting 'round the little girl's throat.......My eyes met his, silently pleading  for him to leave that damaged child alone......He sighed. No, more than sighed. He exhaled. I think we all did. Everyone  in the room did. But then it happened. We heard the clear, small , sharp crack. And it was done. Her neck was snapped. Edith screamed. He glared at her. She stopped.. Hearts pounded, both human and inhuman. But the tiny dribbles of blood gifts he had given her did their work. Her thin, small legs contorted. Her hands grasped out spasmodically. Stunted pathetic groans rose from her throat.......Papa said - See  what you did? I told you. Don't provoke me. Sarah broke into tears. He started to stroke Annie's hair once more. Then he simply bit through her child sized throat and drank up all the blood. He never spilled a drop...

TWILIGHT CONVERSATIONS

The monstrous, gaseous fire blazed its way across the heavens, then left us all in shadows. Dusk was upon us and we started to awaken.  Each vampire is different. Some stretch and yawn like mortals.Others immediately move about like tightly wound automatons. I am of the former sort. Baylah was still out. She apparently had spent the day holed up with her paramour. Nothing new there. Sarah was at her ablutions. She enjoyed her baths. I went in to help her wash her back. True, we do not attrack dirt, nor do our bodies excreet much, but a hot bath is a hot bath, especially to sometimes clammy creatures like ourselves. I could hear the Old Woman clattering about up in the kitchen, as she prepaired some sort of protien starch mixture for the humans. I do not think I can even recall what food tastes like. Sometimes in a dream I might. But not often. Sarah smelled good. Not necessarily from her expensive bath salts. She always smelled good. And since the old tub was of the huge, ornate, claw-footed variety,I eagerly slipped in to join her. And she agreed that I smelled quite nice too. We tarried in the steaming brew until we both were satisfied, then dried ourselves in turkish luxury. I was in a Jim Morrison mood, and so chose a leather and denim look. It so suited my new, handmade bootkins. Sarah carefully assembled her costume ....black cashmere and fine, wool pants. She put on her new, black bootkins too. Were we always so particular? No, but the presence of our 'visitor' made us so. He seemed to exude an aura, an intoxicating vapor and we could not resist. Up above, the humans were already assembled around the table consuming yellow mounds of cooked, sterile uterine chicken juices. Eggs...eggs...I know what they call them. They eat them a lot. Mortals so enjoy tearing off a bit of a 'tasty' usually dead animal. Not like us. We could never feast upon the dead. It's living fare for us...and always human too. Rat eaters? Deer munchers? Hardly, that is just in fiction. And 'Papa' was there waiting for us. He sat off to the side in one of the large club chairs bouncing Annie on his knee. His clothing was fresh. Where did he get it? From the luggage in his car, naturally. Another fine suit. A trim, starched shirt, worn open at the collar. Everything straight out of G.Q.. No, not G.Q., The Robb Report. He looked like a Wall Street prince and had an appetite to match.. Edith and wilkravitz ate silently. I watched as 'papa' offered Annie sweet, little hot, bloody drops from his finger tips. She quickly clapped her hands and slurped it up. Then he neatly bit into another digit and gave her more. The Old Woman chomped on a thick crust of bread and smiled. Sarah looked at me. I looked at her. Then he spoke. He said - Come, sit down. It is time for us to talk..........How smoothly he takes over. How easy it all seems for him.......Creator and created united at last. Yet this was a conversation I did not want to have.........

HOMECOMING

The humans were all asleep. Well, the Old Woman was as asleep as she ever gets. But Edith, the questionable little girl Annie and the few Pineys and Red Paints staying with them were contentedly snoring in the dark. Baylah still trysted with her extremely well heeled boyfiend. The parkland refuge was quiet, wrapped in its sheltering, evergreen vale. And a silent powdering of snow drifted down from the heavens. The sumptuous, ebony sedan turned off a nearby service road and drifted to a soundless stop behind the low, brick building. True, it was once a Fairmount Park equipment depot, but our creative immortals did their best, working their magic and transforming the structure into a cozy, snug redout. A scattering of colorful, children's toys (used by the 'cherubs') decorated the great-room floor. And the electric fireplace (with its Amish crafted, walnut mantlepiece) shed a low, orange, comforting glow. Where were the elves and cherubs? Who could know. They flit about the city like wide-eyed, pixilated moths, returning when they chose, staying elsewhere when they do not. But don't worry. They have other places to hide. The heavy, metal door drifted open. 'Papa' stood off to the side, gesturing for Jonathon and wilkravitz to enter. And they did, each finding a commodious seat in one of the club chairs arranged about the room.. No one spoke. Jonathon studied his creator. Modern dress suited him. Whom  did he favor, a somewhat trimmer Alec Baldwin or  maybe a John Gotti? Sarah was not home yet. But she would be there soon, for the daylight  cannot wait. Two cherubs dashed in through one of the small, high windows, sublimating through the glass. But they instinctively felt the gravity of the situation and immediately retreated to one of their closet, hidey-holes. 'Papa' chuckled. He said - I have not seen their like in centuries. It will be good to have them around. So, Tomas... I mean Jonathon, where can I take my ease?...... That was when the gnarled Old Woman stepped out of the shadows and said  - I have prepared a sleeping space, sir. It is in one of the small, side rooms downstairs. You will know iit for the door is opened and a candle shining forth from a glass cylinder, flickers within..... Then she nodded and stepped back....... Jonathon whispered - Well, that takes care of that .I suppose you have a lot of questions? God knows, so do I...... The smartly dressed 'gentleman'  said - That, I do. But the orb turns and soon we shall face the sun. Until the dusk, offspring!..... He rose and went down to his chamber, not like a newcomer, but as if he'd lived there for years..... wilkravitz said not a word, but sat there in silence. Jonathon stared at the artificial attempt at a fire.......Then came the small sound of a key in the back door. Sarah walked into the room. She asked - What's that car doing out back?........Jonathon simply looked at her and smiled........

FAMILY REUNIONS

I turned and there he was, sitting in a small, corner booth. He smiled, raised his glass and nodded. I went over and stood there looking down at him. He gestured for me to join him. I did. He spoke first, lapsing into a more or less current jargon. He said - Sonny Boy!.......He offered his hand. I grasped it. We maintained physical contact for a heartbeat or two and then let go. He sipped his drink. I do not know how he did that. But he has many tricks. I glanced down at the table and saw an opened copy of Gentleman's Quarterly magazine. He had obviously been reading it. Yet another trick, considering the tiny pool of warm, gold light, issuing forth from the small, shadded lamp.......Planning a shopping trip? - I said.......For many things - he added........Perhaps you will help me? ........... I hesitated, but he continued uninterrupted, talking of our long seperation. And if I still went by Tomas, or had adopted another name. I told him it was not so much  an adoption, as a reassertion of what had  gone before. He said - So, you are Jonathon then. I remember. How could I forget? .......And you? - I asked. What should I call you? How are you addressed?...... He shrugged and said - I don't know. Call me papa........ and so 'papa' he became.  We spoke of many things, about the others in our band, about our refuge, about our 'spiritual' tricks. He said that he especially wanted to meet my granddaughter/consort, my offspring in the spirit and the flesh. He wanted to know Sarah. Then he looked at his watch (something heavy, expensive and brutally metallic) and said that we should be going, since the night would be dying soon. So we went out to the street and walked on about three dozen cubits when he stopped and pointed toward an impressive, black sedan parked by the curb....... Yours? - I said.......He merely smiled and nodded. Then the doors clicked open with quick, modern precision. Was it his magic or simply some other sort of technological enchantment? I could not tell. But I walked around to the passenger side and got in. He lowered himself into the driver's seat and we were off. Soft music, jazz, I think they would call it, warmed the rich, leather lined interior. I studied him. How does he achieve all this? He could not have been here more than a day or two. I would have felt something. Edith would have felt something. Well, maybe we did. Denial can be very strong. Look at him, with his carefully styled salt and pepper hair, his suit, the soft, gray, suede overcoat, like a fit and dapper mafia don. We rode on in silence. Then he said - wilkravitz, your familiar, he is still gaming? Come, we shall pick him up......... So we went to the casino. He valet parked the car like he was born to it and we entered. 'Papa' led the way through the crowds, aiming right for a bank of video poker machines. We stopped short right behind my familiar, who looked up in silent, shocked surprise. I didn't know what to say. I had never intruded on him like this, but 'papa' spoke first. He said - Grab your things we've come to take you home..........wilkravitz cooperated. He gathered together his belongings. It was obvious that he had lost the fivehundred dollars. But at the last instant, 'papa' spoke and said - Look, five credits. One more shot,........He leaned over and pressed the button. The images flickered and three seconds later, wilkravitz was onethousand dollars the richer.  Four Jacks and an Ace. Five of a kind. He looked at me. He did not know what to do. Papa spoke and said - Take it. Take the voucher. It's yours....... So we waited while he went to the bank-like counter and traded the paper coupon for ten crisp one hundred dollar bills. Then we walked out, retrieved the car and rode home in silence.........