The room was dark and foreboding as if some old ancient evil were embedded in its fabric. Shanda turned her nose up. The room was musty. Although there were windows, it was obvious the Headly's never opened them. She didn't know if she was going to make it for one week alone in that house or not. Nevertheless, unlike the rest of the towns people in Graystone, she didn't believe in ghost, hanks, gnomes, fairies, angels; you name it.
But in all her disbelief, there was still something strange about this particular room. It felt slightly damp; cold even. Maybe one of the windows were not properly sealed and the night air was seeping through it.
The good thing about it was; at least it was neat. She had house sat one weekend at the Hartfield's home and they didn't even bother to clean the place up. Cat hair everywhere, magazines out of place, the joint was just in shambles. "Never again" she thought to herself as an agitated line crept across her temples.
Inquisitively, she gazed at the pictures on the wall. It was nothing special; as a matter of fact; it wasn't interesting at all. No black and white photos of distant relatives; or anything of significance that tied to the family. Most of the pictures were of symbols only. "Hmm...that's boring and strange" she thought.
With her hands resting snugly in her back pockets she inched her way around the room. Not looking in front of her, she stumbled into a stool. "Shoot!" she hissed as a dull ache permeated her toes."Why is this place so cluttered? And why are there so many chairs in this tiny corner?" She wanted to move them and space them out, but resisted the urge to come in someone else's home and start rearranging the place.
None of the chairs matched and at first they all looked odd and out of place. "With all the money these folks got, they could at least buy matching furniture."
Tossing her hair over her shoulders, she turned and started to the door. Just then a frightening thought popped into her head. She glanced back at the circle of chairs again and then it hit her. Her belly twisted in knots as her breathing grew hitched.
"They have seances in here! What the eff?"
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Amie rolled over on her side. The words of the vampire burned inside her head like hot coals. 'My suffering will end?'
'Is it really possible to live a life free of death? Can this thing be true. Can my strange visitor be real?'
Gently she rubbed her achy belly. It was bound and swaddled in a scarf she had to wear on a continuum. She desperately desired to get back to her own life. To be the person she used to be; that is before the sickness came.
How cruel her doctors had been. And she hated them all. She had been to two gastroenterologist, and none of them had mentioned that her current NSAID's were destroying the lining of her belly. 'Those cruel bastards!' She blurted out. Now her fist were balled and had she been able to sock all of them in the face she would have at that moment.
'But now deliverance has come. And the dark man has promised me another life; an immortal existence. And I can finally be free of this thing.' She tugged at the scarf again. It was such a burden to wear. The only time she could take it off was when she was in the shower. And as soon as her bath was over; she had to immediately wrap her belly again.
Yes, it was that painful!
And every time she spoke, red mist flew out of her mouth. It frightened her. She tried to cover her mouth with her hands but it was no use. Its slithering dust simply oozed between her fingers; drifting in the air like red smoke. Her heart started to race. Was this her punishment? Is this what she was condemned to? Was this the payment for her crime?
The universe had betrayed her. She didn't know that accepting "the dark gift" would do all this. But then again what did she expect? She had defied the laws of morality and spit into the face of integrity. She'd committed the ultimate crime. She'd killed someone and now this was her payment.
At the time, the deal with the devil seemed to be her only option. She'd tried to be nice, sweet, kind and honest. But none of those things worked. As a matter of fact, everything got worse. She had waited patiently for the universe to right her wrongs, but it had failed her. Everything had failed. Everybody had failed her. So what was she expected to do? She did what she had to. She saved herself.
There was no need to cry. No need to sob and beg others to help her. No, she had to be wise. She had to grow up. She had to save herself. So when the old man offered her the gift of 'darkness'. She accepted. And now this was her fate.
She came back to see him. Running and flying through the woods like a banshee ready to take flight. The red mist still floating out of her mouth. Her heart raced as sweat poured from her temples. 'How do I make it stop? I can't live the rest of my life like this. Is this my curse? Will I always be reminded of the deal I made?'
Swiftly rounding the corner at the edge of the forest, near the old oak tree with the crooked branches. She found the old man hunched over; with a dark cloth draped around his waist. One hand firmly gripped his staff, while the other held a tiny child. He was eating a baby; feasting off of it; with red blood oozing from his lips.
When Chelle saw him, vomit shot out of her mouth like a faucet. She fell to her knees before him with her face pinned to the ground. Heaving for oxygen, dust danced at her lips. Her eyes blared. Her limbs grew weak. She was a rag doll before him. "This thing you have done to me. Can it be reversed? It must be reversed!"
She couldn't bare to look at him any longer. He was a beast and an animal feasting off the blood of a child...
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