Deceased Dora

by Claire Chilton

  She watched in horror as its thick, hairy legs tensed in preparation to pounce.

  She tried to scream, but her throat seemed to have closed up in terror. She could barely breathe. Her pulse raced, and her heart pounded.

  Terrance dashed into the room and peered down at her. “What is it?”

  She pointed at the eight-legged monster that was staring at her. “S-s-s-spi—spid …” She tried to speak.

  Terrance glanced inside the dresser, and then back to her. He seemed to freeze, and his eyes narrowed in anger before he spun around to face the cabinet.

  “Mortimus! What the hell are you doing?”

  The spider blinked and stared at Terrance.

  Dora frowned. If she wasn’t mistaken, the spider looked apologetic.

  What the hell?

  “Massssster! I thought you were dead,” Mortimus said.

  “So in honour of my memory, you let the place fall apart?” Terrance raised an angry eyebrow. “Some caretaker you are!”

  “It wasn’t my fault, ssssir.” Mortimus peered at his spider-feet.

  Dora watched the conversation between Terrance and Mortimus in silent awe.

  His caretaker is a talking spider.

  “I’m greatly disappointed, Mortimus.” Terrance shook his head. “There is no reason for this kind of mess.” He gestured to the cabin around them.

  “It wasn’t my fault, sir. I swear it! When you didn’t return, I continued my duties, but then bad things happened. More spiders came here. I fought against them, but they neutered me.”

  Dora noticed the giant spider was kicking what looked suspiciously like a joint behind him.

  “I am powerless in this new world, my master,” Mortimus cried.

  Dora and Terrance spun around when the back door opened, and three giant spiders wandered in. One was pulling a crate of beer behind him.

  “Hey Morty! You shoulda come to the store. Dude nearly crapped his pants when we …” The orange-spotted spider trailed off when he saw Dora and Terrance.

  “Shit,” Mortimus muttered.

  “This is what has you neutered?” Terrance shouted. “Decadence and laziness!”

  “Dude, chil—” The orange spider began as he cracked open a beer with his tiny fangs.

  “Chill?” Terrance roared. “You’ve spun my weekend retreat into a speakeasy!”

  “Who are these idio—” The orange spider paused when Mortimus violently shook his head at them.

  Terrance turned to face Mortimus with his hands on his hips. “What treachery is this?” he hissed, flashing his fangs at Morty.

  Mortimus shook his head. “It’s just my cousins, sir. They’ll be gone by the morning. I promise!”

  Dora picked herself up off the floor. “So, um, the webs are part of partying?”

  “Babe, you have no idea how much fun it is to shoot a web out of your ass.” The orange spider turned and winked at her.

  “No one will be shooting anything out of their ass in my cabin,” Terrance cried.

  “Killjoy,” the blue spider muttered while pulling the crate of beer up to the refrigerator.

  “Sir, if you’ll just leave for a day or so, I promise to restore the cabin to its former beauty.” Mortimus respectfully bowed towards his master.

  Terrance held two fingers up to Mortimus. “Two days. That is all you have,” he said while gripping Dora’s arm. “Two days, or I shall withdraw my gift.”

  “Understood.” Mortimus nodded.

  “What gift?” Dora asked as Terrance dragged her towards the exit.

  “Dude, what about the kegger?” the orange spider whined.

  “No more kegging!” Mortimus snapped. “Pick up that cloth and start cleaning.”

  Dora could hear the other spiders grumbling until Terrance pulled her out of the cabin, and the door closed behind them. It was nice to smell fresh air again.

  They were deep in the forest, standing in a small clearing with vast pine trees towering above them.

  “Aww, come on. That was actually fun. Why didn’t you tell me you had a talking spider?” She stared back at the cabin in awe.

  “He’s just a familiar.” Terrance shrugged.

  “What gift did you give him?” she asked again, but he remained silent as he scanned to forest.

  “We cannot stay out in the open,” he said. “Do you have anywhere we can stay for a couple of days?”

  She considered the question. With the vampires chasing them, not to mention the Black Bishop, it seemed the obvious choice was the werewolves.

  “I think we should visit the werewolves. They know things we don’t, and they’ll probably help us.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Not a chance in hell.”

  “Come on. They’re not that bad. They won’t hurt you if you’re with me.”

  “No.” His face reddened with stubborn fury.

  “Well, the only other place you could go is to my parent’s church, but I can’t come with you,” she said, hoping that the idea of a church would sway him towards the werewolves.

  She still needed to find Kieron, and the wolves were her best bet.

  “I’ll go to your church then,” he said.

  “Are you kidding?” She spun to face him with wide eyes. That was the last place she expected him to choose.

  “No. What shall I say to your parents?” he asked.

  “Touchy-feely bullshit and never mention you’re a vampire,” she said jokingly while shaking her head.

  “Okay, then I shall see you here in two days, fair Dora.” He faded into mist as he teleported away, leaving her standing alone in the forest.

  “No, Terrance, shit!” She stared at the space he had once occupied.

  “Idiot.” She glanced around the forest and considered her options. She couldn’t go after him. She knew the second she set foot in the church that she’d be captured again.

  Either Terrance is going to be okay, or I’m going to need supernatural help to get him out.

  She stared into the dark forest.

  “Werewolves here I come,” she muttered.

  As Terrance peered up at the looming church, which had once been Dora’s home, a shiver of fear trembled down his spine.

  He stared up at the large cross that was engraved into the stone above the doors.

  Am I going to turn to dust if I go in there?

  In all his years of being a vampire, he had never set foot inside a church. He had heard far too many stories about what would happen to him if he did.

  He shook his head.

  No. This is insane. I should go somewhere else.

  He turned towards the alley across the street, freezing when he heard footsteps skittering down it.

  Beads of sweat popped up on his brow.

  Are the other vampires following me?

  He felt a bubble of panic in the back of his throat. He had no choice. The church was the only sanctuary he had. The vampires had overrun his mansion house and seemed to have eyes watching him all over town.

  Locking his jaw, he swung open the rusty iron gate and strode up the garden path towards the daunting wooden doors.

  He quickly knocked on the door before he lost his nerve. The knock echo through the church, and he shivered at the sound.

  His eyes travelled up to the cross above him again. Would God punish him for entering his house of worship?

  No, surely he won’t. I’ve been a good vampire.

  Loud footsteps echoed through the inside of the church, growing louder as they approached the doors.

  He nearly squealed in terror at the sound. He was almost tempted to teleport himself to Honolulu and escape this drab and dismal place, but the memory of the hot sun of the islands kept him frozen to the spot.

  He winced as the door swung open with a loud creak, but was pleasantly surprised when a drunkard in a dirty vest opened the door.

  “What?” The drunkard narrowed his eyes at him.

  “Ah, I see the pastor is helping the unfortunate. Migh
t I speak with him?” Terrance asked.

  “What?” The drunkard rubbed his weeks’ growth of stubble, making a loud scratching noise. His bushy eyebrows knitted together into a frown.

  “The er …” Terrance trailed off. What the hell was Dora’s full name? He heard a skittering noise behind him again and felt panic setting in. “Reverend, the reverend of this church. Please, I need to see him.”

  The drunkard eyed him for a moment. “What for?”

  Why is it so hard to get into a church? Perhaps God doesn’t want me to go inside.

  The skittering noise seemed to draw closer as it became louder.

  “Sanctuary ...” Terrance gasped. “I need sanctuary from evil.” He didn’t dare glance behind him for fear of what would be there.

  The drunkard sighed. He opened the door wide and stepped back as if to invite him in.

  Terrance paused, knowing he couldn’t walk in without an invitation.

  The drunkard shot him an incredulous look. “Come on then. Get in here.”

  He nodded while thanking God and all his saints for their forgiveness. He lifted his foot to step over the threshold, pausing for a moment in fear.

  What if this was some kind of trick? What if once he stepped on hallowed ground, he burnt to a crisp? He stared down at the intricate mosaic tiles that decorated the threshold of the church.

  “What are you fucking doing? Get in here if you want sanctuary.”

  Terrance considered his options. Hiding in a sweaty hole in Honolulu to avoid the sunshine wasn’t particularly appealing, but neither was staying out here with skittering vampires following him or risking burning in holy fire inside a church. None of his options were very appealing, but if God allowed this drunken imbecile in his church, why wouldn’t he allow someone as nice as Terrance into it?

  He gritted his teeth and set his foot on the tiled floor before stepping into the church.

  He waited for the wrath of God to strike him down, but it didn’t. He breathed a sigh of relief as he walked into the church foyer and turned to face the drunkard.

  As the man closed the church doors, Terrance spotted a vampire hovering in the alleyway outside. He was hard to see as he clung to the shadows, but his mouth appeared to be wide open with surprise.

  Terrance didn’t want the vampires knowing it was safe here, so he imitated and expression of pure agony and mimed himself writhing in pain while the drunkard’s back was turned as he closed the door.

  Once the door was shut and they were free from prying eyes, Terrance resumed a calm stance and waited to be taken to the reverend.

  The other man turned to face him and appeared to waiting for him to do something.

  “What?” Terrance asked.

  “Don’t just stand there. Go into the church and start praying,” the drunkard said.

  “What about the Reverend?” He would prefer to become acquainted with the man before he defiled his church. “I’d prefer to meet him before I pray in his church.”

  “You have done,” the drunkard said, pulling on the black vestments of a priest. “Now, go and pray for your soul.”

  “You’re the pastor?” He widened his eyes with shock as he studied the man. His white hair was overgrown and sticking out at crazy angles. There appeared to be mustard stains on his white collar and a tell-tale flask of alcohol poking out of his left pocket.

  Given that Terrance’s vampire nostrils were getting drunk from just being near the man, he was pretty certain that he was a drunken preacher.

  “Of course I am! Who else would be stuck in this place?” The reverend scowled at him.

  Terrance felt it was unwise to mention Dora, but decided to use the information he had to get a straight answer.

  “You live here alone?”

  “What’s it to you?” The Reverend narrowed his eyes.

  “Oh, I remember seeing a television show about this church once.” He lied. “I’m sure it was about a family who lived here.”

  The reverend lowered his head. “There was once.” There was a croak in his voice and sadness in his eyes.

  So, this is Dora’s father.

  Terrance found that what he saw and what he’d heard about the man didn’t match up. Something had happened to him.

  “What happened to them?” he asked with as much compassion as he could muster.

  “God took them both.” The Reverend flashed him a bitter smile while reaching for his flask.

  Terrance reached out and rested his hand on the flask before the reverend could lift it to his lips.

  “The answer to our problems can never be found in oblivion. Trust me on this. I wasted many years in oblivion, only to discover that when you come back out of it, the problems have become worse. You have offered me sanctuary. Let me repay you for that.”

  The reverend stared at him for a few moments before eventually relinquishing the flask. “If an angel can’t save me, what do you think you can do?” he asked.

  “Only the fallen can understand the fallen, Reverend,” Terrance said with a smile.

  “Call me Theodore.” He smiled and gestured inside the church. “Would you care for some dinner?”

  “That sounds lovely.”

  “So, she left you for a Greek? That’s appalling,” Terrance said.

  “I know! She told me that she couldn’t take it anymore when Dora died. That she needed a break, but who flies off the Greece during their daughter’s funeral? Anyway, a few weeks later I hear about Giorgio.” Theodore spat out the name.

  “Next thing I know, she sends me divorce papers and a YouTube link to her smashing plates in a Greek restaurant.”

  “I can see why you hit the bottle after that,” Terrance said. “But then women are a confusing gender. When Carissa went through her feminist phase, it was quite a challenge to communicate with her. She already had the right to vote. What more could she want? I just wanted my dinner on the table on time. A simple request for all that I provided in return. But noooo, she wanted to explore her gifts.” He shook his head while recalling some strong words he’d had with Carissa during the Victorian era. And some strong slaps he’d received for them.

  “That reminds me of when Josie decided she wanted to be a painter.” Theodore nodded with enthusiasm.

  “I tried to be supportive, but when a woman paints like a five year old, and you can’t even tell what she’s trying to paint, what can you do?”

  “You should hire a tutor. I realise she’s past her childbearing years now, but a lady should always be well versed in painting, dancing and singing.” Terrance nodded in agreement of his own advice.

  “Well, she’s a good dancer if there is a pole nearby,” Theodore muttered.

  “So, she’s quite accomplished then?” Terrance asked while wondering what kind of pole Theodore was referring to.

  A Maypole perhaps?

  “I guess so.” Theodore laughed. “You know, Terrance, it’s been a real pleasure having you here. If you’re in trouble, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  “Thank you, Theodore. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated. I’d be happy to stay here with you. Perhaps we can help each other resolve our problems in this little sanctuary?”

  “You have a deal, my friend.” Theodore shook his hand.

  “On that note, I think I shall retire for the night. Take your pick of the guest rooms. We have several.” He smiled one last time before he left the room.

  Terrance glanced around the dining room. It was a mess of dirty dishes and unwashed clothes.

  “I’ll stay up a while longer.” He called out to Theodore as he left the room.

  Terrance walked into the kitchen and stood over the sink. It was overflowing with dirty crockery. He hummed as he pulled on some yellow rubber gloves that had little marigolds imprinted on them, and he began washing the dishes.

  With his vampire speed, this place would be a clean sanctuary in no time. However, with his caretaker around, it would be done in a few hours.


  He made a telepathic connection with his caretaker.

  “Mortimus, stop working on the cabin. I need your assistance here, instead.”

  Dora rested against an old oak tree and stared into the dark forest with a sigh. She had been searching for the werewolves for hours now and hadn’t seen a hint of anyone.

  She peered up into the dark sky. The full moon shone brightly amongst a dark blanket of stars. It was a werewolf paradise, but then maybe this wasn’t the kind of full moon they came out for.

  A cold breeze rustled through the trees, and she shivered. It was late, and she was getting tired. If she couldn’t find them soon, her only option was to return to Terrance’s cabin and sleep with the spiders.

  She glanced behind her.

  If I can find my way back to his cabin.

  She frowned. The forest seemed unfamiliar in every direction. She had no idea which direction Terrance’s cabin was in.

  Oh great, I’m lost!

  A loud cackle echoed in the distance, and she shivered again.

  What the hell is that?

  She listened closely, and her pulse raced with fear when she heard a twig snap to her left.

  Is someone here?

  She spun around to face the thick bushes next to her, studying them with narrowed eyes. The leaves waved a little, but it could have just been from the breeze.

  “Hello?” She took a tentative step towards the dense brush and peered into it. “Is anyone there?”

  Something let out a deep growl behind her. She spun around to face a large, snarling wolf. Its nose wrinkled up in a fierce snarl, and its dark grey fur was standing up on its back because of its raised hackles.

  Its body shook as it prepared to launch at her. Saliva dripped from its yellowing fangs that seemed massive when it peeled back its lips in anger.

  Oh, shit!

  “I don’t suppose we can talk about it?” she asked while backing away towards the bushes.

  The wolf growled again, stalking towards her.

  Her heart hammered, and she stumbled back against something solid in fear.

  Arms grabbed her from behind.