uncharted territory [velveteen]

[Fable (DELETED 5728)]

”Tell her I’ll be right there.”
“You tell her.”
“I asked you.”

A man with blonde hair looked his buddy up and down, as if he was inspecting the guy. A cigarette in his hand as he tapped at the butt of the stick with his index finger flecks of orange and grey ash falling to the ground. Fable, a man standing at six foot two shook his head. He had just been working in a nearby store – selling antiques. Black, circular rimmed glasses rested against the bridge of his nose. His buddy Alex pulled out a phone from his *** pocket and began to strum his fingers against the screen, he had an iPhone six. He was the type of person who had to have everything, whilst Fable had an old fashioned Nokia, he wasn’t interested in technology. He liked old things, things that would stay with you forever. Antiques. His friends had taken the mick out of him for even liking such things but Fable, he brushed that **** off. He liked what he liked, and didn’t bother to have anyone else’s acceptance. He didn’t need them.

”Fable, you coming to the pub?”
”Why? You know I hate beer.”
“No wonder no one likes you.”

Fable flipped Alex the middle finger, with a smile he turned from Alex and began walking to the train station, his arm lifted so he could look at the time, he had a wrist watch it was a Mickey Mouse watch, the only thing that reminded him of his parents. The only thing, they died when he was twelve, car crash his guardian had said, his guardian being his aunt. She had been nice to him, opened her home to the man, even bought him clothes got him a good education, but she had died last year leaving Fable alone, well – he had this small little shop to keep him busy, but the owner. Linda, liked to leave Harper Rock a lot, business she’d say, she never stayed for long. Though when she was in town he had noticed the tattoo’s that snaked up her back. It was an intricate design; whenever he had asked her its meaning she had always said ‘You wouldn’t understand, I belong to something’ she never said more, Fable had put in charge when Linda was away. – It was little past ten o clock, there was enough time to catch the next train that would get him to Cherrydale before eleven.

Fable arrived at the station at a slow pace, he made it in plenty of time. His train wasn’t for another fifteen minutes, a red scarf wrapped around his neck – his tattoo that snaked up his arm, and along his bicep was hidden, an owl and a skull. He wasn’t even sure why he had gotten them tattooed, if you asked him he would reply with a spur of the moment. You only live once, an odd saying for someone who believed himself to be an old soul. Yet it was here, it would be here he would meet his demise. He would never see it coming; he would even miss his train. The train he usually caught to get back to his flat, to watch the re runs of the Antique Roadshow, on his old fashioned box television, none of that flat screen crap.

The shadows moved around Fable, lifting their arms. Death was coming for him, in the form of a beautiful, raven haired woman.

[Velveteen]

The one thing Velveteen did like about the **** sucking, cold weather was the fact that she could could hide her death like appearance more easily. With skin so pale that it was almost translucent and gave off an ashen grey appearance under bright lights, it was difficult to look anywhere near living let alone healthy. The necromancer curse. To spend an indefinite eternity looking like a walking corpse. Which is the exact reason that the woman avoided well lighted areas, especially in the warmer months when long heavy coats and gloves would raise more than a few brows among the warm blooded population.

Covered from head to toe in black, form fitting leather she looked like a gothic tribute to Underworld meets the Matrix but she gave as much care to how she was perceived now as she did when she relied on air to keep her alive. For the longest time very few in her field took her seriously. The only medical examiner in her country to rock up to work in knee high boots covered in skulls and steel spikes, looking like the bride of Frankenstein. That was the running joke where she worked. ‘They called her Frankie behind her back. They thought she didn’t know but she sure as **** solved more cases for them than they would have on their own. They at least gave her the respect she deserved when in her presence. As for the rest of it she was used to it. Something she had dealt with from family, kids at school, and the other...patients. Some things changed from one life to the other. Some things did not. She was a freak then and a freak now. Something she embraced.

The hem of the floor length coat caught at the thick, rubber soles of her boot with every silent step she took. Her gloved hands were buried deep in her pockets as she made her way to the platform that would take her to Wickbridge. Every now and then Velveteen would go to Beta Towers and let herself into the apartment that was owned by the first person she had turned. Tali. She still missed her though it was one of those things she kept very much to herself. Not even Micah knew that she would go there from time to time and just sit in the empty apartment with the dust as her only witness. While it was a reminder of the sadness that she kept buried deep it was also partly therapeutic. She felt closer to the younger woman wherever she might be. Tonight however, she wouldn’t make it that far.

The first thing the dark-haired, vampire noticed when she arrived was the single, solitary heartbeat that drew her towards the shadows at the other end of the station. The man who stood there was a secondary acknowledgement and she smirked crookedly as she took up a space nearby. Just another freak on the streets waiting for a train. She watched him from her peripheral and couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He looked like Superman’s alter ego Clark Kent. He had that whole nerdy, unassuming, wholesome thing going on from the way he dressed to the dark glasses that perched unobtrusively on his straight and rather perfect looking nose. “You look like you lost your phonebooth.” She said out of nowhere as her head turned on her shoulders to look directly at him. Mischief danced like an elephant in a tutu across her dark, red lips though the gesture didn’t reach the steely gaze that promised trouble.

[Fable (DELETED 5728)]

So Fable waited every now and again he would push his jacket sleeve up so he could see the time from his Mickey Mouse wrist watch. Sometimes he would even look twice in a minute – time seemed to have slowed down. The glasses still sat neatly against the bridge of his nose as he unexpectedly lifted his arm and used his index finger to push on the small metal bar that held the two lenses together, and in place further up the bridge of his nose. They had slipped down a little. He waited for this god damn train that was soon going to be late if it didn’t arrive within the next five minutes. Fable was just worried he wasn’t going to get to see the Antiques Roadshow, he’d be extremely sad if he missed it.

The program itself brought joy to Fable. He did love it. It was then that he caught a glimpse of her his future killer. He wouldn’t see that one coming, but this woman was gorgeous. She pristine, not a blemish on her skin – or face. She had dark lips, full – inviting. Shame Fable didn’t swing that way, otherwise he’d be hitting on her. Instead he gave the woman a smile, as he was no longer the only person on this train station, waiting impatiently for the damn thing.

Fable found himself looking at her for a moment, he was observing her. Not in a ‘Oh I need you now’ kind of way, but really. When he saw her he thought about Kate Beckinsale, from the film Underworld. Except this woman’s hair was longer, much longer than Kate’s. He turned his head away then, he didn’t want her thinking he was some kind of creepy stalker with a crush. Which he was neither. He re pocketed his hands into their rightful place within the confines of his coat, he didn’t hear her approach him. Phonebooth. Fable found himself chuckling deeply.

”Do I? Do you know where I’ve misplaced that damn thing.”

He laughed again, as his steel like orbs looked directly at the woman, the vampire – unbeknownst to him.

[Velveteen]

The short, barely audible chuckle was more polite than anything else in nature and she shook her head in response to his question. The cool night air caught several long wisps of hair and lifted them giving the silken strands the appearance that they had taken on a life of their own. “No. Unfortunately I haven’t. They seem to be a thing a past though. Most people own mobile phones now and the cost of forever repairing the damage done by vandals...Makes the whole venture needless and expensive, I suppose.” The australian accent strong in every word spoken. She had felt his gaze and noticed how he kept checking the time. It seemed as though the only other person on the platform tonight, beside herself, was in a hurry to be somewhere. The Mickey Mouse watch? Now that did amuse her. A sign of sentimentality she assumed.

Velveteen’s observations found him to be the sort who likely kept to himself. The smooth, uncalloused state of his hands were indicative that he was not one for manual labour. The red scarf, style of glasses and lack of formality or a suit suggested he wasn’t a corporate man either. Again she thought of the mild, mannered Clark Kent. A reporter. This man standing not too far from her could be a reporter she supposed, but where was his briefcase? “It does make you wonder though, doesn’t it?” The woman paused and tilted her head as if listening to something in the distance. She could hear …. or rather feel the vibrations of the tracks and ascertained that the train had just left Honeymead Station. It would be here in roughly two minutes or so….maybe three. Her head swung around sharply as she looked directly at the younger male. “What is a superhero to do?”

The grin that crossed her lips was sinister in appearance. The dark crimson, stark against her alabaster skin, twisted in a rather peculiar fashion. The woman looked like she had a secret that she was dying to share. Black gloved hands appeared from her pockets and game up so that she could tug the tops downward. Her fingers then pressed between the digits of the opposite hand meticulously. All her concentration seemed focused on that one task as if right now it was the most important thing in the world that her gloves were secure. The action slightly reminiscent of a crazy scientist who was about to start work on his or her next macabre project.

“And they wonder why we have no heroes anymore.” She shook her head ruefully though that grin remained. One would wonder what it was she found so amusing right now. “It’s because they have nowhere left to change.” A deep, throaty chuckle followed and lingered in the quiet of the night.

[Fable (DELETED 5728)]

Fable didn’t hear her chuckle. He could see her smiling though, as if she had a secret of sorts – or maybe a joke. Perhaps she was reciting a joke over and over in her head. It seemed plausible. As he turned his body fully to face her. Ocean blue eyes curious as he took a step towards her, that red scarf of his hid the nape of his, it hid all the skin really, even the tattoo’s he had that made their way up his arm, and across his shoulders. Skulls, roses, words. Words that mostly meant more to him than most people. It was the only thing that reminded him of his parents he felt like he needed to get a new tattoo, something to remind himself of his aunt who had recently passed.

God rest her soul.

• ”I dislike mobile phones.”

He said, unexpectedly. When he spoke it was like talking about modern day things aggravated him. Fable was in touch with all things history. He liked the past, having a mobile phone went against who he was as a person – but he had to have one, even this brick of a Nokia. He needed to people, from work could contact him. That was what this mobile was for, for ringing people. Fable did not know how to text people. It was far to intricate and advanced for Fable.

• ”I always wonder, I wonder so much about this world.”

Well done Fable, make yourself sound like an idiot. Those hands of his escaped the confines of the coat pocket as he nodded his head for a moment watching as the woman took gloves from her own pocket. He paid close attention to the way she put them on, it was so careful, so precise. He couldn’t help but watch. Even though he batted for the man team. He smiled. He was curious. He was curious about her. She spoke about heroes then, having no where to change and he let out a deep throated laugh. He got that joke.

• ”I say we should make a complaint.”

He laughed again, and found himself once more checking that time. He was sure that train was due about now.

[Velveteen]

A delicately curved and tattooed brow rose curiously. How could anyone dislike mobile phones? Personally she loved technology. The freedom and independence it allowed and the untapped wells of knowledge it supplied. It opened up a whole new world to those that likely would have not have known it via other means. People like herself, for example. Most of what Velveteen had learned before her turning was learned from those in the spirit world and the internet. To completely different mediums, both with their drawbacks. People often said that one couldn’t always believe what they read on the internet. Velveteen often said that you couldn’t always understand the messages sent from the spirit world. But none the less, both were abundant with information.

She watched the man from the corner of her eye. He appeared to be young in years but something about the way he dressed and his disdain for something that was intended to make modern life easier, spoke of someone much older. Yet again he checked the time. At a guess she would also say he did not like to be late though she expected he likely used the word tardiness like some old fashioned school teacher. This thought made her chuckle inwardly and tucked her hands back into her pockets. “It’s not the world itself that you need wonder about. What you see is pretty much what you get.” His spoken thoughts really sought no response from her but social proprieties were usually lost on her in most cases. “On the surface. It is those that dwell within it that should demand your ponderous attentions. The things you can’t see. The things you do not know. The things you wish not to know.”

Her grin curled at the corners as she looked into the man’s eyes, holding his gaze hostage beneath her own. “There is no sense complaining. No one cares. Not really. Life is just one big predictable charade. Death is where the adventure lies. Or so I have heard.” She shrugged and took a step closer, offering a leather encased hand, outstretched for him to take and reciprocate if he so desired. “My name is Velveteen. A tourist who got a bum deal and ended up…..here.”

[Fable (DELETED 5728)]

An odd name, she had an odd name. Much like he did. Fable, that was an odd name too. The name of a story, Fable was nothing like a story – or if he was, then his story was filled with tragedy and death of his family. He turned his ocean blue hues onto the woman and nodded his head in a greeting.

• ”Fable, odd name. Were you named after a book as well?”

The question fell from his lips before he could even realise what he had been saying. He kept a straight face, he did like to read the Velveteen Rabbit. It was one of his favourites growing up as a child, he could still recite some of the words if you asked him too, and here he was meeting a woman who had the very same name as the rabbit. Coincidence? She was a tourist who got stuck here and laughed. His deep laugh rumbled through his chest.

• ”This place does seem to draw people in, the population has vastly increased over the past three years. I actually live here, born and raised here. I run an Antique shop just-“ He pointed his hand down towards a corner store, with small lights dancing in the window illuminating an Egyptian vase. ”-down there, we hold some of best Antiques.”

Fable was a proud owner, he loves his Antiques. He loved their history. They had a story to tell and Fable was eager to hear them.

• ”What are you referring to, the things that you do not know? What is that we cannot see?”

He looked at her curiously. The sound of brakes faint in the distance as a train began to make its way to the station. Would he catch this train? He was quite interested to hear Velveteen’s answer. He wondered now, was there anything that he was missing. Fable was a logical man.

[Velveteen]

The woman shrugged, dropping the hand that had been left hanging and instead used it to dig her pocket for the crumpled pack that she was sure stilled housed one or two cigarettes. “Dunno. I was adopted. Apparently that was the name given to me by my birth mother so I never really got the chance to ask.” Her Australian accent was quite obvious as she placed the smoke between her lips and cupped the flame that was sparked to life with the other hand. She took a moment to inhale the flavorsome smoke and exhaled it slowly as she watched the soft, white plume waft and eventually dissipate before returning her gaze to the only other person on the otherwise deserted platform.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why the populations has increased as it has? I mean...It’s just another city, nothing special to write home about. I don’t recall seeing any huge new corporations going up...not enough to explain that sort of influx.” She snorted softly though her grinned remained steady, a permanent fixture it would seem. “And it sure as **** aint the amazing weather that brings them. So...doesn’t it make you wonder?” She paused then and allowed time for the male to answer, avoiding his last question. That was one he would find out soon enough for himself.

There was nothing about this guy that really stood out to Velveteen. No reason on earth that she would be currently considering turning him except for the fact that her husband had recently brought home a new addition. Female, of course. What was good for one....The corners of her mouth twitched in mild amusement. She was probably gonna end up in trouble but sometimes that had it s own merits as well.

Just as the train pulled into the station Velveteen stepped closer, her voice conspiratorially low as she muttered...”More than you can possibly imagine. ” Before he could move to board the waiting train she reached out to touch his shoulder, her expression one of faux concern. “Are you ok?” He was of course perfectly fine until she touched him at which point she was able to infiltrate his mind and fill it with images, so vivid that he wouldn’t be able to discern reality from illusion. He could close his eyes but still be unable to hide from the vision before him. Her chin covered in blood as she laughed and curled her ice cold fingers about his jaw. He would recoil from the cool breath that washed over his face, fetid with the stench of rotting corpses as she fucked with his senses.

Then would come the knife, appearing from nowhere and glinting menacingly before it was buried in his stomach and twisted brutally. He would see and feel everything as if it was really happening, physically crippling him, for in his mind it was very real.

Any curious passengers that happened to be watching would only see the man grab at his stomach and his female friend showing concern as she guided him to a nearby seat, completely unaware of what was to come once the train left the station and the pair were once again alone.

She shook his shoulder gently though that wicked grin had replaced any feigned expression of concern. “Fable? You don’t look so good. Everything ok there?”

[Fable (DELETED 5728)]

Fable liked to have all the facts. He wasn’t spiritual, he didn’t believe in the supernatural. He was a historian by trade. He dealt with antiques that had history, that he knew had truth to them. So what tonight was soon to be in store for him. He would never have guessed such a thing. Ocean blue eyes blinked at the raven haired female in front of him. There was something about this woman that seemed to instill fear within him, he couldn’t quite place it but deep within the core of his belly he felt fear, this woman frightened him. He refused to reveal it though, Fable did have a poker face.

• ”I’m sorry to hear that. I’m an orphan too.”

A voice at the back of his head told him he shouldn’t have said that, it was like an invitation. Who would miss him really if he suddenly upped and vanished one night. Not a train driver. That was for sure. When she spoke about the influx of people coming to Harper Rock, he found himself nodding his head further. She had a point, it was rather strange. There wasn’t anything appealing here that would draw that many people here, he didn’t even know about the existance of Vampires. Poor Fable.

The train began to make its approach towards the platform and he picked up his briefcase, ready to board the train. That was when a hand went to his shoulder, drawing him back. It was Velveteen. He turned to say something but was stopped. The briefcase dropped to the ground, the contents inside spilled everywhere. No one offered to pick up the items, they didn’t even register what was happening. Fable was looking up at this beautiful woman’s face only to find crimson blood dribbling down her chin, cold fingers coiled around his chin.

Fable tried to resist the ice cold grip. He didn’t like it, his first instinct told him to run, but as he closed his eyes and turned away. The bloody image was gone, and he was looking at softer, much gentler features of Velveteen, he blinked again to make sure it wasn’t there, only to find the images replaced with an evil looking woman. A demon.

She smelt like death. It penetrated his nostrils. He found himself gagging, doubling over. In the corner of his eyes he saw the knife. It was glinting under the dim lighting of the station. He saw the backwards motion, then the forward motion as the blade slid into his belly like it was gutting butter. She twisted it, and Fable cried out. The pain was crippling as he sobbed.

• ”What demon are you…”

He found himself panting, as he was brought over to the bench.