When the Magick goes away – The Last Enchantments

[Zodiac]

The razor hung above the waiting flesh calmly. Waiting in patience to wreck havoc upon its prey again. Soft drops fell on the waiting skin like a slow rain as the path of destruction it had just finished was proudly displayed in the light. A finger touched the path and ran along its length, checking for errors.

The finger moved away as a focus of inner energy ran along the waiting flesh. Willing a change within itself. A moment later the finger strayed off the path and explored untouched flesh and found no difference where the razor had rampaged and had not. The fingers moved and explored the leg yet to be tormented and found nothing but silky smoothness and not a single hair to contend with.

A look of confusion swept over the girl’s face for a moment. She had never considered using one of her abilities in such a manner. Again she focused and reached under her arms and found the same results.

’Well hell,’ She sat on the edge of tub. Imaging she looked like the one child in class who did not get what everyone else understood with ease. She took a towel and removed the rest of the shaving gel from her leg. ’How much money, time and effort I could have saved.’ her thoughts tutted. Well, maybe not a total waste. When she took moments like this for herself it was one of the few times everything else that was falling on her doorstep was forgotten. A small island of tranquility surrounded by a sea of chaos that never stopped.

No, the time was not wasted, but she could have done without nicking her legs occasionally.

She stood up and got into the shower to bathe. Dimly as the hot water flowed over her form like a tender caress if she could get away without showering as well. That would be a real perk. Will away the sweat and grime and the remains of perfume from earlier? Her hair suddenly lush and full and catching the light?

No, she decided as she lathered up. Sometimes the easy way was the wrong way when it came to issues of self therapy like this. The steam surrounded her as she indulged her compulsive need to always be as clean as possible.

*****

“What size you need?” the clerk asked through the fancy colored face mask. Zodiac held up six fingers.

“Women’s? Purple?”

She nodded yes and waited. As the clerk checked the back, she oddly considered her feet while tugging at the useless mask hanging over her mouth. They had not changed much since her ‘accident’ which was strange. Feet changed depending on how much one used them and how. A bit wider or a different type to help with aches and pains that come with age and such, but she was still sporting a size 6 track shoe with zero problems. She could wear track shoes out easy, so she was putting a high demand on her feet (when she wasn’t floating around). Her old pair looked like car tires going bald and they were one of the lucky pairs. Once, when she tried the Feral Mutation ability, her feet expanded and sent razor clawed toes ripping out the fronts of her Air Jordan’s. She cried about that. She loved those Jordan's.

“Here we go,” The clerk returned with a box in hand and took a seat on that silly little stool they used for fitting a customer. “Women’s size 6 purple Pumas.”

Zodiac tried to wave the man off, but he would not hear of it.

“Oh sit down. Isn’t a problem. Besides, you usually one of the nicer customers I have.” He inspected the shoe before sliding it onto her stocking covered foot. “Damn Corona brought the very worst out of most people coming in here. Nice to have a friendly face for once.” He deftly tied the bow and looked up at her. “How’s it feel?”

She stood up and bounced a bit. The shoe held her foot perfectly. She smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Great. Sit down and we’ll get the other one on you. What happened to those Adidas’ there? You got dragged while hanging on to a car bumper through a construction zone or something?” He gestured at the train wreck of the shoes she walked in wearing.

’No, just running through tunnels under this town. Climbing over all kinds of debris and ruins to track and kill monsters and sometimes running for my life through all kinds of things.’ she thought to herself while giving a ‘I don’t know’ look as she shrugged her shoulders to the clerk.

She paid cash.

And took the old pair with her. Such a thing might have a clue to what she had been doing. They had a date with a fire pit later that night.

******

If shoes were odd, then shopping for clothing was downright disturbing. Women always were in a state of flux with their body size, but what she wore at 20 still fit perfectly at 31. No need to sort and classify jeans as skinny or fat in her case. No use for concealing, flattering or slimming items. At time she felt like a Barbie doll. Just buy the clothes-they fit-end of story. If the size was right, you were good to grab and go. No misadventures with extra inches or lack of inches. She considered this as she moved past shops now. Taking in what was new in the name of fashion.

High fashion was never her thing. Few were the times she went all out for anything fancy, but if she did then perhaps shopping would take on the element of ‘the hunt’ again. Now the entire expedition was like stalking a pizza in a pizza parlor. Only an idiot could miss.

Perhaps she wasn’t getting the plus in all of this. Sometimes she imagined having this conversation with her friends from childhood before she had been turned. She could imagine the comments would range from ‘**** you, vampire *****’ to the ever popular ‘GTFO!’ She probably wouldn’t blame them. She had been blessed/cursed with something most women would kill for. She was not vain, but going by the looks she got from most men and women her natural framework was pleasing to the eyes of others. She was a frozen moment in time. Defying the things that would gradually have torn her up if she was still alive. She had imagined in the past she would end up like her grandmother – a wrinkled, fat jelly donut with snow white hair, no teeth, the ponch in her front being a combination of belly and boobs oozing together when she sat down that would only be dwarfed but the spread of her backside. It would have happened. Nana told her it was in her genetics and apologized. Despite all of that, everyone adored her Nana and loved her.

Why did that fate seem more appealing that what faced her now?

[Zodiac]

Siblings:

She moved like a ghost in the darkness. Feral eyes picking out the details as she levitated above the ancient floor. On the floor itself, her cat walked in total silence as she guided them to their goal. The pair slipped past ancient traps and monsters waiting for someone to disturb their vigils and pushed even deeper into the labyrinth. Instinct and an educated guess told the girl that who she was searching for was here.

Ginny found him first. A tiny squeak from the cat told her that something had caught her attention. As she drifted closer, she saw him. He was sitting in an alcove. Back against the wall as if he had found a secure place to take a short nap that he failed to wake up from.

’Mordie,’ she whispered directly to his mind. She crossed her legs and floated just inches from him. She mentally ‘poked’ him a few times before she dared to reach out and touch him. The giant could move like lightning, and she had no desire to have a bullet between her eyes for her troubles.

But there was no reply to her mindspeak or her touch. She herself had fallen into these kind of vampire naps herself. Wake up and discover days, even weeks, had passed. All of their kind have done this one time or another, however Mordie had been MIA for over a year now as best she could tell.

Idly, her hand pushed away a few of the cobwebs that formed around his face. If one who explored this place just glanced in his direction they might mistake him for a dead monster or something. But still, he generated a aura of something most would dare not try to loot.

’Wake up,’ her thoughts plead as she held on to him. ’I need your input, brother.’

‘Brother’ was a term she gave him simply because the vampire that had turned her also made him. She wasn’t sure he liked it at first, but as time went on their interactions did play out as a type of siblings, and once their sire vanished the pair grew closer. There was nothing like love or romance between them. It was more of a situation where two people decided that when the chips were down they were all they had.

’I got the brains, you got the look,’ her thoughts sang to herself as she just floated in front of the slumbering giant. If they set their minds to it, they could be quite the team on things, and despite his unemotional mindset vs her everything is feelings way of thinking they communicated very well to each other.

Of the handful of males she actually trusted, he was one of two first on the list.

After a time, she wrote a note and slipped it into his hand to discover when (if?) he finally woke.

Find me, if possible. I may not be here.

She then leaned in a placed a kiss on his cheek. Leaving behind the dark purple of her lipstick as proof she was there. She then stood back up and began to drift in the direction she came from. Her familiar following closely.

*******

Children and Lovers:

The proper term was ‘Childers’ when it came to the night feeders. At least she thought it was. Sometimes the entire concept seemed to be a pick and choose mash up of various ideas of vampire fiction. ’Thank the gods we don’t sparkle,’ she thought, but then again some of them did. Her own long missing ‘wife’ used some obscure ability that made things appear worth more than they were to make herself practically glow in the spotlight when she danced.

Mates and childers. A total waste of time. Recently she made a new one and was not even sure why. There had to be a reason and (hopefully) it was a good one. The information had not stuck in her brain as to the why. She recalled giving them what she considered her standard pep talk. The do’s and don’t about being a child of the night, what to avoid, etc. She gave her 6 months tops. That seemed to be the average to the majority of childers she had created. Oh there were exceptions, but they had been rare and when she tried to reach out to them she found them in the same state Mordie was in down in the darkness.

Childers were supposed to be like children. You raise them, have fun with them, teach them life (or un-life) skills and take pride as they grow and move on. Only 2 of hers did she have that pleasure with but one vanished into nothingness back in the early days while the second slumbers with her own mate.

Partners? Companions? Spouses? Lovers? No better. For being supposedly immortal, one would think things might last a bit longer but it was never the case. Just begin to truly open and comfortable with another and they would vanish the way the kids do. She had finally given up and visited a local tattoo artist. (It wasn’t the one who had done her previous bits of art. She would have preferred him but he was in dirt nap city like practically everyone else she knew. ’Damn you, Mr Bones.’) and had a nasty looking Black Widow spider put just above her navel. It had to be her, she finally began to reason. Was she basically a ‘kiss of death’ to those who got close to her?

Apparently so. And as her newest child went off to begin to develop and grow, she had placed a violet colored kiss upon her cheek and wished them well. Now when she thought of it, she probably put a small time bomb on her. Just ticking away until….

*boom!*

*******

Friends:

Vampire ‘friends’ (allies, buddies, etc) was perhaps the most eccentric concept of them all. It was almost a daily (nightly) lottery where you reached your hand into a box and pulled someone out. However, if you drew the person you picked last night there was no guarantee they would be the same person. In emotions and personalities some vampires were mercurial in nature. One moment all smiles, the next a rampaging death machine. She was honest enough with herself not to consider she was exempt from this kind of behavior. Was it part of the process or a side effect? Either way it was a crap shoot when it came to socializing with her own kind.

EDIT-ADDITION

It wasn’t impossible. She had a few long standing friends among the night crowd. Some of them had been with her to the literal hell and back and it always made her smile when they visited or if she ran into them along the way. Chatting time always well spent among other types of visits. If there was a problem with this was the inevitable twist of them taking those extended naps or vanishing for months at a time. Despite enjoying her solitary times, she was a social creature by nature and worried about others when they fell out of touch. There were times you wanted to be alone and others you didn’t, but more and more she found herself alone no matter what time it was.

To sum it up simply? It sucked-big time.

(TBC)

[Zodiac]

‘HALT!’

’Oh ****. Not this again.’

She stood still with her arms spread to her sides as the sound of boots was heard approaching from behind. Several others in the crowd had done the same. It was best not to take chances with the military types especially if you did not want excess attentions drawn to yourself or you affairs. The boots past her by as the solider confronted another in the crowd and silent sigh of relive passed her lips. She held her place for a few extra seconds before slowly continuing in the direction she was headed. She would have to add this new checkpoint to her map. The troops kept moving around randomly, but this was the first time this particular intersection was being used that she knew of.

As she moved past the one who had been stopped she could see several other soldiers working the crowd. Thankfully this was one of the random checkpoints which meant no super detail exploring of who an individual really was (or what they were) was involved. One made eye contact with her and approached as a mask of curiosity and calm claimed her face. Gently she pulled her wallet from the oversized purse that dominated her one shoulder and pulled what she had joking called ‘the best three dollar bill money could by’ and handed the ID to the solider. It stood up well in a basic checkpoint like this, but the one who sold this to her warned not to push her luck in a more permanent checkpoint. Those involved more than just ID scans. Usually dogs and mirrors and blood tests and other bits of vampire detection were employed.

“Thank you, Miss Faraday.” The solider smiled after scanning the card and handing it back to her. “Have a safe evening.” She smiled as well and slipped the card back into her wallet and let it fall into her bag where it landed against a pack of cigarettes, a deck of tarot cards and a custom made bit of firepower that could take out the lot of them in seconds if she chose to act.

Behind her a person began to rage about the entire idea of stopping every few blocks and being forced to show proof they were human. The solider in front of her excused himself and moved to where the man was screaming. She watched as they ‘politely’ escorted him to the back of a personal carrier to be questioned further. None of this was strange to her. Her own bloodline’s history had experienced such things before, and by bloodline she meant when she was still among the living. Vampires or Juden and Romani– it was the same game being played out again in a different spot of history. A game she had no intention of playing for much longer.

Or ever again.

She knew what she was and took pride in it rather than apologizing. The blood of Egypt and India flowed in her veins. Baset and Shiva smiled down upon her. She took her heritage quite seriously and, according to the experts she certainly wasn’t a member of the all mighty Caucasian race. Her kind was called many things, but it all came back to a central idea.

The Travelers. Always moving on. She could imagine the disgust of her ancestors at what she become. Not because she had been turned to the night (there were many tales of gypsies in the past suffering such a fate) but because she had allowed herself to become domesticated. Domesticated! The word sounded toxic to her. She grew roots in this place! Roots were the ties between family and tribe. Not to a stupid building and business. (Cash was always a good thing, but there were limits in how far one should compromise to get it.)

She needed to be back out there again. Not trapped in this town. Escape was very possible if you planned it right and not just grab and run. She’d go south. Back to America. Considering how chock full of nonsense the place had become it would be just a visit. Last thing she wanted was to get caught up in some ‘BLM’ debate. She could prove her kind was treated just as badly as they were through time plus acts of genocide waged on the Romani even to this day. But from what she had gathered watching the trainwreck of news on the subject. The only lives that mattered were black ones (everyone else was expendable), and even then that group was sub divided as to who actually qualified for life (some were expendable such as black fetuses and others). She admitted she probably wasn’t seeing it from the proper perspective to even try and make a judgment call but she discovered she didn’t want to know or be involved.

No, it would be best to pass through those hot spots in the shadows and let the ‘experts’ continue as they were. When it came to the game of ‘who really matters’, gypsies were always dead last, but she had come to accept that in life as well as un-life. Plus, you never see the Romani throwing a nation wide public hissy fit in a scale and size as they are on this. Perhaps they tried in the past? She didn’t know but in no history book she ever read did she see the revolt of the gypsies.


Keep moving south to Mexico and beyond to South America. She could melt into the background of things easily there. Or, she could become quite visible. She would imagine some drug lord might like having a vampire enforcer on his or her payroll. Live the sweet life and occasionally arrange ‘accidents’ for people who did not want to play the game. And who would think the tiny gypsy girl was the cause of such disasters?

She still liked her original idea better. Find some area with limited interactions with the modern world. Set up a cabin and begin to become a presence that sometimes helped the natives. All she asked in return was some understanding and not bother her over stupid stuff. One day they would tell their children legends of the ‘white lady’ who came in the night.

She began to laugh. Well, maybe something between those 2 extremes would be nice.

‘Miss Faraday?’

’OOOOH!’ she mentally snarled. ’NOW WHAT?’ The girl turned gracefully with a inquiring smile on her face. It was the solider that had checked her ID before.

“I’m sorry, but you dropped this.”

She blinked. Yes, it was hers but she thought she had dumped this out of her bag ages ago. It was a credit card sized calculator. They were the rage before they got the idea right on a cell phone. She used them to double check her math occasionally. She gestured her thanks and continued on for a couple of blocks, then ducked into an alley. Eyes scrutinized every inch of the old device. Had it been opened? A little something extra put inside of it? There were several axioms she lived her life (un-life) by and the idea of ‘Just because I am paranoid doesn’t mean I am wrong’ was a big one in her book. She tapped it against her palm for a few moments as she debated.

“Excuse me,” a tired voice spoke up in the dark. She looked and saw one of this town’s homeless population speaking to her. “I don’t want any trouble. Just asking for spare change if possible.”

She always loved when fate answered her problems for her. With a bright and beautiful smile she gave the man 50 dollars. As he looked at the unexpected blessing, she wiped her prints from mini calculator and deftly slipped it into the man’s back pocket. She listened to his thanks and bid him well as he stepped out of the alley, then she turned and continued her own journey of this night. If they had done something to the relic-let them follow this guy for awhile.

’South America.’ she nodded as if making a decision. ’Absolutely South the **** America.’

(TBC)

[Zodiac]

Friendly business (part 1 of 2)


Business and the art of making money was probably the most unholy thing ever conceived by the minds of men. An unnatural act against the very powers of creation itself. The idea was simple when one thought of it. A person took two bits of gold (or diamonds, other precious stones, or metal change), which was not a living thing at all but simply inert, dead minerals, rub them together in the right way and somehow forced them to reproduce like rabbits which were living things.

An abomination in the eyes of some elder gods she would think. The living bring forth life and the un-living brought for un-life and the dead brought forth walking dead peoples. That was the nature of the universe basically. Forced geology was unnatural! Add to that the concept of ‘compound interest’ and the damn thing became a rabbit farm the size of Texas.

Everyone was guilty of it. Even professional thieves, who normally did not produce anything except problems for others made a good living stealing other people’s rabbits. The procreation of the almighty dollar (or whatever it was called in other parts of the world) was the number one thing in this world and considering how much of an abomination it was one could safely conclude every living soul there ever was, is or will be is heading straight to hell for force fornicating abominations without a permit. People demanded to be given more rabbits than they themselves could make while others hoarded them for no reason except to claim they had more than others. None of it every got put to a worthy cause exactly. There were plenty of causes in the world that deserved the help of the rabbits, but it was never an issue of one giving up their rabbits but conning others into giving up theirs to them for safe keeping and delivery to the worthy cause (after they took out taxes and holding fees of course) so people with few rabbits had fewer, the ones with lots of them had more, and the causes were lucky to have enough extra rabbits to buy a coffee at the corner donut shop.

Vampire business was not so different than human business. If one played the game straight up the same perils that plagued the living took their bites (ha ha) out of the biters as well. Back alley sales did somewhat better but had their own sets of perils to them. (A hostile takeover usually involved bloodshed and bullets) Ever since she opened her first tiny shop, the gypsy discovered the only way to truly thrive in this environment was to keep one foot planted in both the honest and not so honest.

Back ally ways and the ‘Black’ market were no strangers to her. She grew up selling and shopping at times in places like that. Of course the goal was to make as many rabbits as you could but sometimes it turned into something less un natural. ‘Horse trading’. You have a ‘horse’ and so do they. Is their horse worth yours? Is yours worth theirs? This led to one of the gypsy’s favorite games. Haggling.

It was an art form if done right. Simply put, you try to get more for less. They have the same goal, so it becomes a contest who can sweeten the deal just enough (without loosing too many rabbits in the process) and get exactly what they want. It usually was a fun experience, for her at least. Most did not like having to have a translator to deal with her and the sign language. She had the advantage in this. No spoken words meant no audible hints where her mindset was going, and she learned if she quit smiling and keep a stone face in play she could seriously piss off others in the haggle. This could seriously throw off their game and allow her to make the best deal most times.

In this, the legit side of her business was much the same. Wheel and deal. The American way! It did not matter if her fake paperwork said she a natural born citizen of the Great White North. She was Romani by the grace of the gods and a Texan by the luck of when she was born. ‘An American Vampire in Canada’ probably would not have sold as many tickets as the ‘Werewolf in London’ film, but basically she was an All American Girl and that meant making rabbits.

(tbc)

[Zodiac]

Friendly business (part 2 of 2)


But after going on 10 years, making rabbits had become somewhat boring.

Wheeling and dealing, inside tracks, buying low and selling high. It was a full time job and the girl excelled at it. Always drawing profit in the process. One shop grew into four and she did her best to keep track of what way things were going when it came to how money was being spent. There were a few limits and lines she did not cross despite the fact running such situation would have improved her rabbit population immensely. Bars was one of them. Too many already in play. Also strip clubs and houses of ill repute were others she briefly considered as options. She was a silent partner in a couple of them, but she never showed her face at them. In time she had cultivated an image of a person one could do business with that came with little fear of being ripped off by. Honesty was something almost exotic in a place like this and people did love finding the exotic.

In the darker world of finance she was honest as well. **** with me and you will hurt badly for your efforts. She catered to markets that truly appreciated some of her more unique skills. Among the gifts her grandmother had taught her, the art of poison making was always popular. Want someone removed and have it appear as natural causes? She was your girl. Providing such unique tools to the darker elements not only brought her rabbits aplenty, but opened doors to be able in import and export items that would never break though the laws of customs, border security and public safety. Then she was able to craft even better items for the same clients. One hand washes the other was always in play when the lady appeared at some invite only sale in some deserted part of town.

Not all of her nocturnal actions brought items to craft into death. More mundane, yet unique items drifted into her hands. Flowering plants normally banned from leaving their home countries bloomed in her garden. Animals as well. Books and tomes of things considered dangerous and blasphemous in nature sat in her library and the export of items found only in this town was always a booming business when it came to customers with the same esoteric values that she had.

Those who knew her would say her life was a simple one, but she could have lived like an empress if she chose to. The only throne she had was the one she sat in while telling fortunes. Another skill some paid well for. Before the area had been locked down to travelers in or out, there those who came to her in disguise under the cover of anonymity seeing her counsel. In her adventures in divinations, she treated all, small and great, the way a physician treated their patients. Wars and such had happened around her simply because she refused to say what she had discovered of one or another’s plans. A fortune was a private thing-shared between 2 people alone. All she knew was if she revealed the names of some that had journeyed long and far to sit in front of the alabaster skinned woman child with raven black hair and piercing eyes of crystal blue, most if not all would call her a liar.

And even if she had lied on something as trivial as that, few could dispute her accuracy. She saw the rise of the night children months before arriving in Harper Rock and also saw how low the entire concept could and would fall and the evidence she was right was all around them now. Demanding to see ID’s and forcing people to look in a mirror at gun point. ’Like the Bible says, a prophet is never appreciated in their own home. Or something like that.’ She would say. The girl kept her observations to herself nowadays. Why speak if no one listens? One would think seeing the future and the issue of acquiring rabbits would go hand in hand. Most times it did, but even the girl would not claim to be 100% right all of the time. Sometimes she was miles off point or something that seemed so immediate happened years after she saw it. She learned to hedge her financial bets. Ease in and out of new and old situations and keep a finger on the pulse of the entire mess playing out around her. The rabbits followed like a constant running stream rather than like a tsunami, but perhaps that was her greatest strength of all.

She was a patient little thing. The rabbits continued to grow, but she was basically bored out of her tits on the subject.

(TBC)

[Zodiac]

Location, location, location


Nothing is eternal.

When she first crossed the town limits, Harper Rock seemed like a quaint, charming little place. A small town in the middle of a growth spurt. Alpha Tower was brand new and sparkled in the sunlight and the Beta Tower was under construction. The Quarantine Zone was an ugly smear in the down town area, but the rest of the place was quite pleasant to behold.

Harper Rock. She vaguely remembered reading something about the folklore and history of this place in the beginning. Something about a Moose? She wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. Opportunities to make money abounded. Her best friend forever, Temperance (Gods, she still missed her), let her stay in the guest bedroom while she got her feet under her. From the small rats nest where her first attempt at a actual shop stood, she clawed her way up. The town was easy to keep a map of in your head then. It was, in a way, fun.

Finding the quickest way from point A to B. Seeking out the newest discovery or location. Confronting monsters for the very first time. The Quarantine Zone a dark playground where the dead itself walked. And the sewers…

It was actually crowded at times down there. Dashing around in the darkness, trying not to run into anyone. Rats…

She still shivered at the thought. It wasn’t that she feared them in general, it was just the fact it was slimy and yucky down there to begin with. And the stench? Then add rats to be playing and eating the garbage (or the remains of fools left to rot)? In one word-‘Ewwww!’

At first, they congregated in the main areas of town, but in time new developments began to appear and they spread out. She had at least one bolt hole place in the majority of them. Always something new to be explored, learned.

But in time, the glow and shine wore away. Tarnish on the golden. As the vampires began to exert their presence, new things began to appear in the once quiet, growing town. Darkness begets darkness as supposed living masters of the night came face to face with actual un dead ones. The underworld elements bloated and expanded to accommodate the new norms creeping in. It was inevitable. She had wondered many times if the Nexus was part of the problem.

The Nexus. The gateway between this world and what most of them called ‘The Shadow Realm’. An ever changing limbo where the spirits of slain vampires were held. Local history had it that a rogue vampire named Cobb had tinkered with something that should have been left alone and tore a hole in the Realm– thus allowing several elder spirits to return to this world. Thus the return of the vampires. Even worse? Also through this invisible hole in the sky above the town, what could only be termed monsters drifted down as well. Were they once the population of the Realm or something that used the gateway to escape a different type of limbo? She had talked with many who had spent extended time there and most offered ideas, but none of them were provable. It was a mystery that was slowly gaining size in the sky and even more bizarre creatures were slowly escaping to the streets of this once quiet place.

And the problems were not just from above, but from below as well. The history of this town was far older than many would think. The Moose idea (had it been about a moose or not?) was simply the point in time where people of the modern era had settled in this land. The tunnels and labyrinths and mazes that honeycombed the ground beneath their feet was far older and contained riches and terrors of their own. One such terror was perhaps the oldest vampire still in existence that a group of idiots managed to let loose into the world again. A world that was barely able to cope and deal with vampires and monsters suddenly had an undead demi god to contend with as well.

And more, more, the list went on. Vampire hunters, scientists trying to find the secrets of the vampires, people who discovered that consuming vampire blood gave them all the pros of being a vampire and none of the cons of it, would be wizards and sorcerers, and the darkness responded with the Fae itself and other wonders of myth and legend. Fish people, spider people and still more monsters. All of these things and more. All with their own axe to grind against the vampires. And in such a growing storm, the attitude to the undead shifted. From simple legend, to a possibility, to actual proof, to grudging acceptance, to distrust, to blaming all the woes of the world upon them, to the most recent adjustment of IDing and tracking their movements. In less than 10 years, the vampire had gone from ancient myth to a new race of people to be housed (at first) in prison camps if things continued as they were.

So much more eroding the foundations of a once thriving place. She once called the night after being turned a ‘dark Wonderland’ of sights and experiences and sensations. Now the darkness failed to hide the rot that was seeping into everything around her. The towers no longer sparkle in the early morning light and the dead and monsters wandered the streets looking for prey-no longer confined to the Zone anymore.

(TBC)

[Zodiac]

People


As much as the idea offended some of the new born night children especially those who followed the ‘Killer’ (who the hell thought up these names?) path, Humanity did not simply roll over and accept the idea they now were nothing more that juice boxes to be picked up, drained, and tossed away like garbage. This concept also showed loud and clear the incredible ego and idiocy of some vampires who think they were never human to begin with. How is this even possible the girl had yet to begin to speculate with any success. What she had discovered is was that a vampire (the essence) was what was placed into the blood of a victim which grew and changed the physical aspects of the host. It had no mind of its own. It acted like a parasite and did what any parasite did. Perhaps a parasite with perks, but still. The vampire was still an entity of human origins.

Yes, you self important idiots! You WERE human once and you still share the majority of the pros and cons of being human. You may be faster, stronger, and able to do some tricks humans cannot, but it doesn’t make you gods or things to be worshiped.

It made her head hurt when she’d hear one of her ‘kind’ prattle on about how humans were less than or nothing but cows and should be treated like said cows. But what they failed to consider is that sometimes, ‘cows and bulls’ got pissed and fought back. Resisted and actually won the fight on occasion. It reminded her of an old joke she heard once on the subject of bullfighting. ‘The bull not always loose.’

The same with normal 100% homo sapiens . These were not the primitive villagers most saw in the bad movies that were helpless against Christopher Lee when he was enraged. No, they were confronting the new world man here. People of various experiences, situations, who has fought in actual wars, involved in street violence, and even those not in physical types of situations could be damn smart and crafty. Not all of them, of course. When it came to stupidity humans and vampires both had their fair share of those in their ranks. (no group was perfect)

People began to fight back, which seriously pissed off the self important types to no end. Not always successful at first, but the gauntlet had been thrown down and accepted and the more proof that vampires were real began to slip out, the more determined most humans became. The gypsy would not even include the ‘augmented humans’ that began to appear to join the fight. Vampire Hunters kinda made her scratch her head. Somewhere in this world there were bases where people had trained for generations to fight something that did not walk the Earth for who knows how long? (to her, it sounded like people like this needed a large supply of liquor and to get themselves laid) Blood thieves was actual parasites in her view. More so than the vampires themselves. Where vampires fed to stay ‘alive’ these people simply wanted to be something out of the super hero comics. Worse? A percentage of them used their stolen powers against their fellow men. They were, in the girl’s opinion, the worst humanity had to offer. Sorcerers had their own set of unique skills and she could understand them more than the Hunters. There was others as well, but in what she was thinking none of them came into play.

Regular, skilled, determined people. One such individual could do a hell of a lot of damage if they planned ahead and throw all kinds of errors into an idea of ‘vampire superiority’. In the end they might die, but the damage was done. And considering how somehow scientists arranged for the abduction of some vampires in their quest for a ‘cure’ ? Most vampires would claim they were fledglings or vampires not of importance, but then the ‘superior’ argument falls apart. Is not the least of us 5 times or more better than the average human? For guys who play with test tubes for a living, it suggests they used their minds for this one.

Brains! Gotta love em’. And now the government and the military are on the case? The government never plays fair and one could be sure their troops will come with new toys and the brains to use them against Homo Superior.

The whole deal sounded like a bad episode of the X-men. The bottom line is, the majority of people do not take **** from a group who suddenly stands up and thinks it is better than the rest and what the average citizen has to say is basically the lowing of cows in a field.

But, to be fair, humanity has a vivid flaw. One the girl had observed many times in her life (both current and original). People always know when to start something, but never when to stop it. Should humanity stand up and say no ******* way? Absolutely! Every living things has a right to exist. But to be treated like an animal when their brains work just as good as a vampire’s (sometimes even better) is really a mistake in the long run. Humanity has always found a way to blow the piss out of things that threaten them as a whole, and there is where the ‘start/stop’ conundrum comes into play. Not all of the night children are terrors intent on slaving humanity into slave camps for food and breeding more food. Some of them are possibly the best friends a person could have. The night children think, strive, invent, solve problems, and find ways to be better than they were before. Knowing humanity as the girl did, she was certain eliminating the violent would never be enough. All of them must be destroyed because…

One could insert a bunch of terms in to finish that sentence. Because they are Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, gay, straight, Christian, Islamic, Jew,

Romani.

Because they are vampire is no better excuse than any that has been used before. That’s another flaw of humanity. Racist bastards– the lot of them. Survival is one thing, but genocide is another. The good always gets crushed with the bad. It’s humanity in action. You can bank on it.

(TBC)

[Zodiac]

Monsters

“But I always think the most interesting customers, are the mooooooooonsters.”

She sat watching the cartoon. No matter how many times she saw it, this was one of a bunch that made her laugh and smile. Bugs Bunny making a fool out of Gossamer (the big hairy monster who wore red tennis shoes all the time for some reason. They seriously erased some of his scary power.)

Seriously.

Somehow she doubted the ‘Wascally wabbit’ could get away with his jokes on the things that hung out here. They didn’t bargain, negotiate, take a break or even think. It wasn’t totally impossible, she would guess. She watched her familiar once make a fool out of a feral vampire once in the QZ that was determined to try and devour her. Made her wish she had her video camera with her and see if there was such a thing as ‘Canada’s Funniest Home Videos’.

She glanced down and gave the black feline a loving pet as she dozed in the gypsy’s lap. She never seen Ginny back down from any of the mutant freaks she knew the animal had encountered. The fact that she wasn’t running away or attacking them at first sight probably confused the damn things. That and the fact that despite being a giant of a cat (Maine Coon and Norwegian Snow Cat mix) she was probably too small to even be a blip on their radar.

People, and vampires, were another matter. Anyone within reach was fair game. As well as anything. She had seen a car locking it’s brakes to avoid hitting a fadebeast and the creature responded with brute rage when it lashed out at the vehicle. It was hard for her to imagine where exactly these things came from. A pocket universe of total warfare? She had seen them attack other creatures (including their own kind) without a second’s hesitation. It was walking madness.

Or, perhaps maybe they were not so mindless-at least where they come from originally. Perhaps passing through the portals and out of the Nexus did something to their minds? Shattered them, leaving them in a new world afraid, confused, and acting on instinct. She had actually attempted to plan out how to get one of them to sit still long enough to hook an EEG up to their heads and get a clue how their brains worked. She could hear some of her friends now. “What’s next, Zo Zo? Get them to lay down on a couch and discuss their feelings?”

She hardly thought that would help, but it would be a totally different way to spend an afternoon.

––-

‘Tell me about your mother?’

‘I tore my way out of her guts, ate her, and danced on her remains.’

‘And how did that make you feel?’

-inset a major rolls eyes emoji right here-

––

Zombies and ferals were at least motivated by something. Blind hunger, but the others?

She wasn’t the only one who had considering tinkering with the damn things. Rumor had the so called ‘Alpha Fadebeast’ was the result of someone playing with genetics. Faster, stronger, and a hint of cunning going on in its head. Also, first hand experience showed her the newest version of a Mooncalf (named after the ancient hag now running loose in the town) was downright working with something in what could be considered a brain. Some of its attacks had been downright calculated.

And it almost seemed like more appeared with greater frequency as time went on. Every time a new underground something was opened and discovered there was something new that wanted to rip the heads off of people and vamps. Every time Theo-whatsits did something things slowly shifted to even more ****. Every time a group of idiots did what they thought was best without consulting the rest of them let loose a new horror to cope with. And as a bonus, another reason for humanity to want them (vampires) all destroyed. After all, none of these things showed up until the vampires returned. Is obvious they are their servants or something.

She wished! She remembered the first time she managed to actually kill a fadebeast. She felt like she was in a spin cycle in a washing machine that was sent tumbling down a mountain during an earthquake. She was a mess. Dragged herself (literally) home with proof of her victory and laid in bed for 2 days. Pretty nasty actions for a ‘servant’ to do to it’s ‘master’.

And they just kept showing up. Now in places no one suspect. In malls, homes, and other places where people gather for various reasons. She wondered if any ever appeared in a church. That would be a hellava way to convince the congregation to repent.

“The Devil is REAL!” shouts the pastor as a Mooncalf suddenly appears behind him. That should jack the convert count up big time.

Where they an accident or some cosmic **** up that appeared because of the Nexus, or was their a direct link between the vampires and the ‘monsters’? She hoped it was the former. She had visions that if she did escape to South America that these things might be drawn to her. So much for a quiet life in the jungle. Exclusive photos in this month’s National Geographic. Wild monster men of Argentina! And then the hunters would come and the whole ball of nonsense would start again.

And **** moving to Antarctica! She always hated the cold. Even legends of old Nazi bases or ancient civilizations hidden under the ice could not tempt her.

Maybe.

She stood up, which annoyed the cat in her lap and took a step to the table where a project of hers sat in process. The working title was ’Mistress Zodiac’s Field Guide to Monsters and other Local Horrors.’ A collection of specifics of each and every creature she and others had encountered so far. Mundane details (Height, weight, girth, number of limbs, eyes, etc) and more specific details along with pictures she had taken of them. Advice on how to deal with the situation if confronted with one, best/worse tactics. It was an ongoing thing she amused herself with and she doubted it would ever be published (even if it was, she was sure a thousand and one ‘experts’ would criticize it to no end) but it was not for the general vampire public. It was for her, for lack of a better term, ‘grand childers’ to help them learn from. A soft smile as she saw the entry for the 'Ancient Tizheruk'. She remembered the first time she encountered it. Walking home in the middle of a snowstorm and suddenly the snow got worse. She looked around and saw this thing in the darkness. She took several quick shots with her phone before being forced to defend herself. She also remembered going back to Ty and trying to convince them there was one spooky mo-fo monster wandering around out there. The photos and her wounds helped in that. She would admit, her photos were not the best in the world (considering the circumstances how they were taken) but they were enough to help one ID the beast if it ever showed up again.

Too often the new vampires had zero clue what truly awaited them when they walked out into the night for the first time. And too often, most sires just let them go without a helpful hint to work with. She had never been like that with her creations in the past and saw no reason to be now if she could help it. A few chose to ignore both her and her advice, but that was their choice. She had offered. She could not force anyone to listen.

Not many ever did anyway.

But she felt she had to try. At least with her own. Perhaps one day, one of hers would take over the project. Perhaps not. The book just may become a curiosity among others or forgotten in a box. It didn’t matter anymore. Everything around her was slowly falling apart now and no one seemed to give a ****. Had the arrogance that comes with what they had become gotten that out of control?

She supposed if she actually talked to others of her kind, she might have a better take on the matter but talking with other vampires never seemed to work well in the long run. Outside of sitting across from another over her reading table, she ‘spoke’ very little to anyone in recent times. Oh, the she considered friends got their mental ears talked off by her-when they were around.

It seemed like anyone she knew and cared about wasn’t around much anymore was the problem.

Tomorrow soon turns into yesterday.
Everything we see just fades away.
There's sky and sand where mountains used to be.
Time drops by a second to eternity.

There was nothing out there anymore, and the view from within was growing stagnant as well. Within 10 years she had gone from nothing to having everything she had ever dreamed of and more. Everything that was once impossible without money at least. It was her conclusion she had gotten a bad trade. This had only cost her the simple things of life that most considered redundant, yet carried so much value in the overall experience of existence.

There's laughter where I used to see your tears.
It's all done with mirrors, have no fears.
There's nothing pure or sacred in our time.
The nights we spend together are no crime.

’Except for you, old friend.’ she looked down at the cat working her way around the girl’s legs purring loudly. Possibly the last living remnant of her original life. She made a clicking noise and the cat jumped up into her arms. Sadly there was no way to make the feline like her. After 13 years, Ginny’s age was beginning to show which made the day that would probably destroy the gypsy girl that much closer.

Like marble statues all with gold inlaid
In castles built of silence, let us play.
Even though our skulls rot in our flesh.
We can build a laser, and tear the mesh.

’Unless a major miracle happens soon, we got plans to make, don’t we?’ She rubbed her face back against the nuzzles the cat gave her. ’Yes we do, my beloved one.’

“Having re-disposed of the monster…” Bugs was declaring on the TV. She picked up the remote and shut it all down. Sadly it didn’t work that way. Monsters in this place was like an old snack food ad she remembered. ‘Kill all you want-we’ll make more.’

It doesn't matter if we turn to dust;
Turn and turn and turn we must.
I guess I'll see you dancin' in the ruins tonight!
Dancin' in the ruins!

”Oh yes, you’ll see me, dancing in the ruins tonight.’ she hummed as she turned off the lights and headed for her bedroom.

(TBC)

Song lyrics from ‘Dancin’ in the ruins’ by Blue Oyster Cult.

[Zodiac]

Besties

This was an odd experience. For once, she was the ‘big spoon’.

Sorta.

Ginny was curled up against the girl’s belly snoozing away as they both lay in the bed. This was a common occurrence especially in the daytime. Almost as if the feline had appointed herself as body guard while the vampiress slept. Night was a different matter. Ginny would appear occasionally at work to sit in on readings or just loom over the customers from the high shelves, but she had her own cat ‘business’ to attend to as well and would vanish for hours into the night.

Not so much in recent times. The mini panther was growing lazy. No, that wasn’t the right word for it. It was an excuse the gypsy used to hide the truth. She was getting older and some of the spring was missing in her step. The last time the gypsy allowed her to play in the night, she returned home injured. Something had managed to hit her and the wounds were nothing to laugh at. She found a 24 hour emergency vet and rushed her to them. The service was more accustomed to farming emergencies, but they had no issues with a cat. She refused to leave, even though they told her they would know nothing till the next day. When they insisted the girl leave the waiting room and go home, she simply went out to her van, drew the blackout curtains and slept there. The following evening brought better news. Her heart jumped into her throat as she saw her familiar laying on a table. She looked so….helpless. Frail. Words the girl would never apply to the cat.

‘One of those freak things got at her,’ the vet explained. ‘A half inch deeper and she would not have survived and possibly ended up as lunch. She is doing fine now. What we had to do was…’ And as the man began to lay out the details of the surgery, all the girl could think was this was impossible. How many times had Ginny stared down, double dog dared, and lashed out at monsters that would trash a vampire with ease?

A hand gently ran down the side of the sleeping cat. Touching the scars from her surgery in passing. She was healed now, but the memory would not calm down.

’I made the mistake of thinking you were as I am now,’ her mental voice barley a whisper in the cat’s mind. ’Never again, my dearest one.’

Ginny was not happy with the changes to their living arrangements. The cat doors had all been locked and she was carried from place to place. All the workers in the girl’s businesses knew not to let her out if she was there. How many times did she listen to the cat howl and yowl in frustration. Demanding to be let out. ’Meow, meow meow, my ***! I refuse to let you get killed!’

Simply put, the animal was truly her best friend. They had covered too much time and too many parts of the world to end things now. From Mexico to Canada and a lot of places in-between they were a team of travelers. She was one of two that had made the trip the girl endured from human to vampire that still was alive and cared about her.

The other was a quirky redhead named Jennifer Hayes.

She met the girl at the local college. She needed help organizing her first time shop but could not pay for the help, so she checked to see if any student was willing to intern to gain credits for their major. A day later she was contacted to come meet with a possible intern.

A meeting neither of them would ever forget. Jenn was dressed smartly, like an aspiring business woman ready to conquer the world while Zo showed up in her typical business attire of flowing skirts, bangles and a flower crown. Jennifer didn’t bat an eye. Shook hands with her and began to speak of her qualifications. She liked that about the girl. No judgments. Zodiac stood up and asked her where they could get a cup of coffee and discuss things like civilized people while she wandered to the door.

Outside in the sunlight, seated at a table drinking a house blend, the two rapidly got on the same page. Jenn apologized for being the only one she could interview. Besides her accounting and business management skills like the others had as well, she was the only one who knew ASL (American Sign language). Zo looked over the paperwork the woman handed her, but she was going more with the vibe she got from Jennifer rather than her qualifications. Ginny, who had followed her owner to the university, settled the entire matter by jumping up on the table (freaking the daylights out of both of them) and nuzzling up to the redhead.

Well, that settles it. She is the boss, so I guess you are hired.

Thus, a journey of 11 years began. Jennifer quickly helped get Zo’s project into order. Some of the best laughs they ever had was in that flea trap in Westwal. Trial and error at it’s finest. She wasn’t getting rich, but each quarter saw her profits slowly rising. Jenn projected that if current patterns held, within a year she could upgrade to a better location and then a new plan could be put into action to help maximize the profits. Her dream was coming true…

Until that ***** Scorpia came into her shop one night and thought how much of a joke it would be to turn the gypsy girl into one of the night’s children. Zodiac was aware of them and had gone to great lengths to avoid them. All it took was not locking the door fast enough at closing time to become a victim and beyond. Her only satisfaction lay in the fact that the ‘joke’ was still here and no one had heard anything from her sire in years.

’Joke’s on you.’

How many lies had she told Jenn once she managed to get a grip on her new condition. Why was the shop only open at night now? Why were profits rising but sales weren’t rising or lower than before? Why, why, why? Several nights she had to fight to keep her calm and not just rip the woman’s throat out. If there was any proof there had been a life altering change in the gypsy’s life it was found among the dollar trail Jennifer had trained to follow and improve upon. She finally got a grip on the matter by letting Jenn run the store in the daytime when she could. Fake proof from a physician that she now had a strong reaction to sunlight and had to avoid it as much as possible. This was at the beginning of the return and the idea there were vampires was an over rated joke at best in the town. The Masquerade was almost an imperative back then (before too many jerks made it impossible to maintain) Zodiac (as she called herself to her fellow night feeders) went far and above to keep her condition a secret and keep that part of her new life away from Jennifer.

Sadly, as with most of her hopes, that goal became impossible.

The habits of people will become the habits of vampires, and one evening when the gypsy discovered Jenn had left her diary behind she could not resit a peak and was shaken by what was inside. Apparently Jennifer had been playing detective and was putting the clues together rapidly. When she saw the things she had picked up she was surprised. She was always so careful, but somehow Jenn had strung them together. Her conclusion so far suggested Zo was hip deep in organized crime but the idea that vampires were involved was not an impossibility and her quest for clues was going to take her into very dangerous company and situations.

She faced a serious decision. She had already prepared a type of financial ‘go back’ for Jennifer if things got too crazy. Go elsewhere and start a new life. She could offer that.

The alternative was something she could not bring herself to think about.

So one evening she had a private meeting with her second in command of all things business. For the first time Jennifer ‘heard’ Zo’s voice within her mind. She explained and demonstrated her new abilities. Begging her for forgiveness for the deceptions. Eventually she marked her as a thrall. Not to control her, but to give her an aura that might keep her safe in the night. She always insisted the woman speak the truth in all things but one. Never discuss what the girl really was with anyone outside of those who know. She made the offer to leave before she enthralled Jenn, but she declined. They had made their fortune together and as long as she knew the truth she saw no reason to break up the band.

*****

(three weeks later)

She had never considered such a thing, but after a conversation with Mortll when she suggested the idea, it was hard not to think about it. She grilled her on the details– the pros and cons of doing it. Her friend showed her examples of results that could not be denied.

So one night at Ginny’s feeding time, something extra was added to the raw meat. She watched the cat devour her meal as normal, then she limped back to her spot in front of the fireplace and dosed for a time. When she awoke, she was different.

The spring was back in her step. Fast and strong. Her teeth had gotten longer as well as her claws. Moving more silently that before (if that was even possible) She took the cat outside and watched it run in a blur of motion, and anytime it slipped into a shadow (any shadow) she was totally invisible.

She never would have thought that a few drops of her own blood would have such an effect on Ginny. As much as she loathed the blood thieves, the idea gave her oldest friend a new extension on life. The girl sat in the park and watched Ginny playing, as if she was discovering herself all over again. The animal had not gained any vampire powers from it all (at least the girl hoped not) but like a vampire her physical attributes were improved. She could re enter her nocturnal Queendom again with no fears and with the few extra perks she got from it all, the beasts that stalked the night would once again learn to respect her majesty.

Ginny approached the spot where the girl sat and meowed softly.

’You are most welcome,’ she smiled as the animal jumped into her lap and nuzzled her. She imagined one day in the future she would have to make a similar suggestion to Jennifer. Either become a thief of her childer, but that was tomorrow. Tonight, she rejoiced with her oldest friend in silence.

(TBC)

[Zodiac]

Back Alley Deals.


“Is everything in order?”

She glanced up at the man who spoke to her. They knew each other very well and had done business many times in the shadows of this town. He was her first choice for arranging deals that extended outside the reaches of the quarantine zone formerly known as Harper Rock. They both had made profit and reaped the benefits of working with each other over the years and, unlike some of his competition, he always delivered what he promised.

She went through the folder of paperwork carefully. New sets of ID to be used and changed along the way with license plates and registrations to match. Proof of ownership of a full size van and trailer along with keys for both. (not this year’s models but low miles and a full overhaul from top to bottom) “It seems to be so,’ He passed her a smaller folder. This one contained a set of keys to a storage facility along with the contract arrangements and payment method. Also the pin code for the gate and what ID to use if the security stops her.

“The van and the trailer are parked in a heated unit. Also left a boost pack in case the battery dies off in the meantime, and a full tank of gas. Trailer is packed with the items you had me take out of here and the van is equipped for your ‘napping’ needs. One years rent paid in advance.”

’Very good,’ She nodded her satisfaction. ’You have pictures, I assume?’

Without a word, the man handed her his cell phone and she thumbed through the images. The van was in very good shape, and a series of photos followed showing her the items she sent ahead arranged on the floor and the stages of packing the trailer. “You have room for more. You need anything else taken out I can get it added to the load.”

’There will be possibly one more large amount of items. The rest I can carry with me,’

“So, you really gonna do it?” The man lit a smoke and sat back in the chair. “Damn. Miss Zo? I am going to miss you.”

’I will miss you as well, and this place. But perhaps the issue is this ‘place’ is no longer the place we met in.’

“You got that right,” The man tapped some ashes into the tray. “Every new layer means more government clowns to pay off and bribe to get anything done. I am sorry for the price I am asking for on this but it could not be helped. I tried to cut some corners, but…” She dismissed the rest of his statement with a wave of her hand. She understood all too well the conditions he was now forced to operate under. They had bit her as well in matters of exporting goods to clients out of the area.

’I know you gave me quality, and I never mind paying for that.’ She pulled a large envelope from her desk and laid it in front of him. He did not bother to count it and slipped it inside of his jacket. ’Also, thank you for getting that past customs.’ she gestured to a large box sitting on the floor. The markings indicated the contents were perishable and was packed to stay cold.

“All the way from ******* Aussie land. May I ask what is in there?”

’Samples of Dendrocnide moroides.’

“And that is?” She laughed softly at his reply.

’It is more commonly known as The Gympie-Gympie stinging tree. Perhaps one of the world’s most venomous plants. It won’t kill you, but the pain that comes from being ‘stung’ by it can last for months. A unique neurotoxin in the plant’s gympietides seem to trigger permanent changes to the sodium channels in sensory neurons in a victim. This action is thought to explain why people stung by the plant can experience recurring pain sensations for months, or even years, after the initial sting. I have a few clients who would love to have some people suffer for extended lengths of time.’

“Is there a cure for getting stung?” the man looked at the box and absently wiped his hands on his jacket in reaction.

’Not yet,’ she smiled.

“That’s another reason why I will miss you. You just love playing with some mad *** ******* ****.”

’I was told once I should have a TV show like the Science Guy.’ she laughed.

“I’d binge watch it.” The man stood up and reached into a shoulder pack he was carrying and pulled out a wine bottle and sat it on the desk. “Bobcat is your favorite, if I remember right.”

’Indeed it is.’ she looked over the bottle. ’I will be in touch when the last items are read to go.’ she replied as she stood up as well.

“Don’t suppose I could talk you out of this?”

’Only if I get a full refund?’

“I thought not.” He sighed. The pair laughed and hugged each other for a moment. As he pulled away and moved to the exit, he paused and smirked as he held up a set of keys. “Getting slow, Miss Z.” He laughed. She laughed as well as she held up the envelope that held his payment. Both of them broke out in loud laughter as they traded items back.

Once the man had exited, she began to gather together all the items, except the wine, into a pile and placed them into a box . On the lid was 2 words. Exit Plan. She placed it into a locking drawer and closed it, She then picked up the other box and moved into her work area. ’Let’s get you all sorted and comfortable.’ she thought.

’Fuqua’ she thought as she opened the packing to reveal the foam container within. On the top a small note had been placed.

I don’t want to know why.
Hope things are going well for you, dear.

~S~

’Such a sweetheart, she is,’


(to be concluded)