Bohaban proudly grinned at his little project. He could see that his toy was breaking. He had seen that for years but he couldn’t let it break to soon. Even the thought of toying with his prey gave him a tingle in his libido. Of course, he slowly had to work his way up. They become addicted to the pain he causes. They can’t help but do his bidding. They know how powerful he is, and they are driven by the fear he crests. He drains the light from his victims, and the more he drains, the more he can become them. And once all of what is good is consumed, the light cannot prevail.
Pandora had fought longer than he thought she would. He was rather enjoying this challenge. Hope is such an amusing form of deceit. Give them hope and watch them fall. He kept silent in the ears of Pandora for a few minutes.
Jacob wandered to the far side of the dead road in the cold of night and climbed over a ditch. There was a grassy hill that moved up past a chain-link fence, over into a dense forest of light snow and green fir trees. There was a pile of garbage on the edge of the forest, with plastic bags and some non-recyclable plastic bottles. The forest was dark but sparse, and there was plenty of space between the trees. Moss covered the ground and little bike paths crisscrossed throughout. A house could be seen to one side, backyard trampoline and garden, special little working-class place. Toys littered the lawn covered in light snow. There he was in the silence moving slowly, the sound of dry twigs breaking beneath his feet. He was sure that no one else was here, and that now here in this small copse he could wander for several miles until he reached another suburban neighborhood, caught a bus and found his way back to the city. Continue reading “This Heavy Metal Earth”
When I began focusing on doing my spin on the vampire story, everything has been done ad nauseam. Or has it?
My premise is simple. What if you were a newly bitten vampire and had to feed. But every time you did you were filled with revulsion. You had the side effects of tremors, shaking, vomiting, passing out, and, yes, even death (again).
Such is the plight of Abigail Martin. Her life, her death, her new life, and then …