by Raven, C L
"Come closer and I'll make you one foot shorter."
The man bared his fangs, so Casey pushed him away then stabbed him in the heart. The man fell to the floor. Casey grabbed the other sword and ran. He spun out of a woman's grasp then swung his sword, decapitating her. He snuck up behind a rising man and chopped his head off. It didn't sail through the air like in the films but flopped to the side. The man turned, his head dangling. Casey fought back vomit and sliced his neck again. The head dropped with a thud then rolled. The body staggered then crashed to the floor.
"You are our master," another man spoke.
"At best I'm a trespasser. At worst, a murderer. I know I said I wanted to live here but this isn't how I imagined it."
He stabbed the man then tucked the other sword under his arm and drove it backwards, satisfied at the death gasp of the vampire behind him. The doors swung open. His arms dropped to his sides. His bloodied swords rested against his legs. Crimson drips pooled on the floor like spilled rubies. Sapphire stood in the doorway, candlelight flickering over her stunning form. Her corset accentuated her curves. She moved gracefully, her hips rolling sexily. Her skirt swirled around her ankles, trailing on the floor. Her dark hair was a striking contrast to her ghostly skin.
"Why do you have to be a vampire?" He groaned. "I don't care what teenage fiction says – in real life this isn't fashionable. I can't take you home to meet my parents – you'd bite them."
"You're mine." Her voice was husky.
She circled him, her finger tracing his jaw. He whirled around. He'd been watching her. How had she moved so fast?
"You're strange. Handsome but strange."
"Me strange? You're the one living the Gothic fairytale." He paused. "You think I'm handsome? The girls usually go for Alex. He'll be here soon, armed with silver stakes and garlic."
Her cold touch caressed his face. He blinked when he found himself staring into her scarlet eyes. Her fingers raked his cropped dark hair. He closed his eyes, his scalp tingling. Her lips pressed against his, her tongue flickering along his bottom lip. He moaned, his tongue dancing inside her upper lip as he surrendered to the kiss. Her body moulded against his, iciness seeping through him before desire ignited flames inside him.
"Casey!" Alex burst through the door, wielding his branch.
Casey stepped back, fumbling for his swords. He thrust them into her chest. Vampires blocked his exit. Alex walked through the crowd.
"I leave you alone for five minutes, you make out with a hot Goth chick and go on a killing spree. My mum always said there was something odd about you. You'll be the death of me."
"Run!"
"Not a chance."
The door slammed. The vampires moved closer. Alex staked one with his branch, wrenched it out and staked another. Casey watched in horror as Alex was dragged down by two female vampires, his screams filtering through the hall. Casey fought them off and dived on Alex. He stroked his hair as blood seeped from his throat and the light faded from his eyes.
Sapphire pulled the swords from her heart and threw them. They clattered on the dusty floor, one sliding until it hit a fallen vampire. The others stood in silence. Watching. Waiting.
Sapphire's eyes blazed. "A single kiss awoke me from my sleeping death. Now I'm yours. For eternity."
"No!"
She flung him against the wall. Her fangs pierced his neck. Casey's screams echoed around the castle that was shedding its shackles of the curse and awakening to a world that no longer believed in fairytales.
Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge
Some say I'm a bad girl like it's a bad thing.
Children's stories teach you if you're good, you'll be universally adored, have the kind of beauty that only comes in Max Factor packaging, the handsome prince will fall in love with you, your enemies will be smited by Karma and you'll live happily ever after.
Yuck.
My ambitions run far higher than marrying Mr. Darcy and being unemployed for the rest of my life. Pretty dresses and glittery things aren't my style. Besides, I'd rather get my own revenge on my enemies. Karma's too busy to deal with everyone. Think of me as her glamorous assistant.
I tried being good. I got bored.
So I tried being bad. And I liked it. I never wanted a boring goody two shoes guy whose sole aim in life was to treat me like a Princess Barbie. I fell for a bad boy. He's far more fun. My mum refers to us as the new Bonnie and Clyde. I want to go down in history. In a hundred years' time no-one will know who Posh and Becks are. Pouting at the camera with one hand on your hip gets old fast. Bonnie and Clyde are still celebrated. But in the modern age of grow-fast celebrities, no-one would care enough to write my story. I'd have to write it myself.
Jazz and I met six months ago. He and his gang were hated by most of the town. At first my mum pitied him - he and his widowed mum lived on a decrepit farm and were forced to sell their livestock to keep it. He'd been arrested for petty theft, burglary and possessing a knife. There were rumours his mum turned to prostitution to keep the bank off their backs. Some said it was Jazz who'd done the prostituting but he vehemently denied it. I believed him. He wouldn't look good in crotchless knickers and fishnet stockings.
My mum's pity vanished when I hooked up with Jazz. The town's delinquent teenager was only likeable when he wasn't dating her daughter. When he exchanged his car for pills, he was banned from the house. Especially when he took one then planted the rest, convinced a beanstalk would grow and he could climb it to a magical land filled with treasures.
There's still no beanstalk in his garden.
Jazz and I are soul mates. Our demons are soul mates too. They fed off each other, growing stronger until they consumed us. In some ways we're each other's salvation but we're also each other's ruin.
***
"You're not in the Jolly Rogers," Neon grouched, kicking me in the leg. He dyed his hair bright colours, which I thought was stupid considering the gang were wanted for most crimes and his hair made him easily identifiable. He might as well leave his driving licence at the scene.
"I helped you escape the cops." I kicked him back, harder.
"Listen Goldilocks, we all went through initiation. All you've done is screw Jazz. How does that prove your loyalty?"
"Aw you want me to screw you too?" I smirked. "No thanks, I'll catch something. You haven't had your jabs. I'll get a gang tattoo. No, I'll put a studded flag on the back of my leather jacket, like yours."
"Only if that's all you wear." Jazz grinned, sliding his hand under my top as I lay between his legs. He leaned down and kissed me.
"I'll wear yours tonight." I smiled wickedly, stroking his thigh. "Is it blood in blood out? There're a few people I'd happily 'erase'."
"It's not initiation if you want to do it," Razor said.
"I really don't want to kill anyone on my list."
"You should do one too, Jazz."
"Fuck that, I started the Jolly Rogers."
"It's high risk letting her in. The minute she gets arrested she'll run crying back to mummy and join Sunday school."
I kicked him too. "Should I rob a bank? Steal somebody's mascot? Flash a football team?" I started to lift my top. Jazz pulled his phone out to photograph me.
"Break into the house in the woods."
"The serial killers' house? Sorry, 'victim' isn't in my DNA."
"You gotta spend the night there," Demon told me.
"You're hoping they'll kill me so I can't join the gang," I accused.
"How does that prove her loyalty? Can't she break in and steal something?" Jazz protested.
"She's a girl so she has to doubly prove herself."
"It's too dangerous."
"I'll do it," I interrupted.
"Georgie, don't."
"I want to ride around on a motorbike and scowl at my neighbours."
"We don't do that." Neon glared at me.
"My mistake. I'm doing it, Jazz."
"We'll both spend the night there."
> "She's gotta do it alone," Demon said. "Jazz, you have to break in to the Judge's house three times, stealing something each time."
The Judge was the most vindictive judge on the court circuit. If Jazz was caught, he'd never see natural daylight again.
"If you want rid of us, arrange a hit," I muttered. "It'd be kinder."
"If you're too wussy, just say so. You've had a free ride, Goldilocks. No other girl's allowed to hang out with us. Jazz, you brought her in, you're responsible for her."
I glowered. "I've already said I'll do it. D'you want it in blood?"
I really didn't want to spend the night in the serial killers' creepy house but I wanted to join the Jolly Rogers. Tearing around on a motorbike and indulging in petty crime was far more exciting than Youth Club. There's only so long I could listen to the airheads gushing about the latest boyband before I wanted to poke them in the eyes with their false nails.
"Come on Jazz, is she worth risking the Judge's wrath for?" Razor asked.
"You haven't seen her in her crotchless knickers and fishnet stockings." He winked at me.
And Jazz was worth spending the night in the serial killers' house for. I only hoped we lived long enough to reap the rewards.
***
I kissed Georgie, slipped my rucksack onto my back and picked up my bike keys.
"I can act as your lookout," she said.
"I gotta do this alone."
"Text me when you're out." She opened her leather jacket. She wore only her minx smile and her blue satin knickers. "So you remember to come back."
I groaned and kissed her hungrily before tearing myself away. I mounted my bike and rode towards the Judge's place. I stopped outside and killed the engine. I dismounted and removed a grappling hook from my bike seat. The Judge lived in the penthouse suite of a gated community, nicknamed Land of the Giants because all the big names lived there. I hid my bike in a bush then jogged across the road. I scaled the fence easily, my leathers protecting me from the barbed wire. As cool as scars are, I didn't want one across my arse, acting as a target for the inmates if this went horribly wrong.
I jumped down the other side and crept towards the building. Whistling. I ducked into the shadows, flicking out my knife. A security guard walked past, swinging his torch. I was tempted to take him out, but there were probably other guards and they'd notice if they were a man down.
I waited until he rounded the corner then I took out my grappling hook and swung it underarm towards the roof. The hook disappeared into the night. It jerked so I hung onto it a foot from the ground. It held firm. I was already wearing my harness, so I attached the clip and climbed to the roof. I pulled myself up and peered over the edge to see the security guard walk below me.
I trotted to the door that led inside. It was unlocked. This was too easy. Knowing my luck, I'd get inside to find a gang of armed police, their lasers making me look like I had a severe case of chicken pox. I eased open the door and tiptoed down the stairs. My boots were loud on the marble floor. I was tempted to take them off, but no burglar looks fierce standing there in Jack Skellington socks.
I figured the best way to do this, was to act like I was supposed to be there. So I walked to the Judge's door and knocked. At least I'd be able to tell if he was in. I didn't want to abseil through his bedroom window to find him in bed with his wife. There are some sights they don't even subject terrorists to.
There was no answer. I took my rucksack off and removed a lock picking kit. I had the door open in seconds. The alarm bleeped. I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket that had his date of birth, his wife's date of birth and their marriage date. Third time's the charm.
I crept through the suite. There was no way he could afford this on a Judge's salary. The place looked like a museum had thrown up in it. I was surprised everything wasn't in alarmed cases with armed guards.
I entered the living room and ran my torch beam along the shelves. They were filled with photos of him and his wife, him qualifying for the bar in his younger days, him taking the silk, him becoming a judge. There were also newspaper clippings of his most famous cases. His modesty was inspiring.
A key turned in the lock. Swearing, I looked for somewhere to hide. I snuck into his bedroom and crawled under the bed like a horror movie cliché. Any minute now I'd be dragged out by my ankles and hacked to pieces whilst the audience groaned at my stupidity.
I heard two male voices. Great. I could handle the Judge no problem, but if he had younger, stronger company, I'd be screwed. And not in a way that would feature in the Kama Sutra.
The door opened. My heart thudded so loudly, I was surprised it wasn't sending treacherous vibrations through the floor. Two pairs of legs entered the room. One pair wore suit trousers, the other was clad in jeans.
"You've been a very bad boy. I'll have to punish you," the Judge said, in what he probably thought was a seductive voice. He sounded like he had wind.
I screwed my eyes shut. No. No. This couldn't be happening. I know people believed in Karma but this was harsh.
"I'm very sorry m'lord. Please be merciful," the other guy pleaded.
"I sentence you to twenty lashes. Drop your trousers."
The jeans hit the floor. I covered my mouth, biting my finger to stop myself laughing. I hoped I never came up before the Judge in court now. How could I be terrified of a guy who was trying to pull off sexy dom and failing? I sincerely hoped he wasn't wearing a leather g-string and nipple clamps under his suit.
The bed creaked. The Judge's legs were right by me. I was sorely tempted to tie his laces together. He couldn't chase me then. But now wasn't the time for mischief.
"I'm going to put you over my knee and spank you 'til you're sorry."
I gaped. I did not just hear that. I shuffled forwards. Forget the Seven Wonders of the World, the Judge spanking some guy was a sight to cross off my bucket list. I pulled my iPhone out and hit record. A good looking guy wore only his shorts, his head lowered in fake shame. He only looked about sixteen. He knelt and lay across the Judge's lap. I bit my lip at the first smack. My fist was in my mouth on the second. I turned away, fearing I'd laugh if I continued watching.
A pair of eyes stared at me under the bed.
Shit! We were so close I could count his eyelashes. My heart pounding, I put my finger to my lips and winked like a sleazy lothario.
You don't need to know what happened next. I'll be in therapy for the next five years, so I'll spare you the gory details. I consider it repaying my debt to society. I'll just say this – that guy was flexible.
When the Judge was snoring like a warthog, I army crawled out from under the bed and into the living room. I stood and headed for the shelving unit which contained a Faberge egg collection. I carefully placed them into my bag, admiring the solid gold one.
"If he catches you, he'll kill you."
I whirled around and saw the guy leaning against the doorframe.
"Maybe he'll spank me 'til I'm sorry." I know, I was hardly in the position to make jokes, but I couldn't resist.
"I get paid a thousand quid for that. What do you earn?"
"A thousand? Do I need experience or can I train on the job?" He smiled. "You should get your arse insured in case you sit on something sharp. Nice tattoo."
"Thanks."
"Are you old enough to be here?"
"Go. Before he wakes."
"Thanks." I rushed to the door. "Just...let me get a head start before calling the police."
"You think he'd want them here the same time as me?"
I smiled and slipped out the door. I hurried to the roof, climbed over the edge and abseiled down. I hit the ground, detached myself, gathered my rope and ran for the fence.
"Hey!"
A torch beam chased me. I jumped over the fence, mounted my bike and sped off as the gate opened. I didn't slow until I reached our hangout.
"Fee, fi, fo, fum, I stole the eggs off the evil one." I held them aloft so they could revel in my bravery.
"You wouldn't believe what I had to suffer to get these bad boys. My innocence has been soiled."
"You stole china eggs?" Demon scoffed, swiping one and tossing it around. "You could've nicked something valuable."
I caught the egg. "They're worth thousands. Think of them as golden eggs. I also got a life insurance policy in case the Judge presses charges." I showed them the footage. The Judge spanking a young guy was as erotic as cleaning the toilet. "That's my golden goose. I need to do squats so I can rent my arse out for a thousand quid per spanking session. Should I get a hand print tattoo on my arse?"
"I'll spank you." Georgie grinned.
"Only if you wear your Naughty Nurse outfit."
"One down, two to go," Neon said.
"Doesn't this count as two?" I waved my iPhone. "I can blackmail him for thousands."
"No. You gotta go on three separate occasions."
"We'll be rich!"
"Except you can't sell the eggs," Georgie said. "The Judge will file a police report. He probably has photos of them."
I offered one to her. "Wanna play with my eggs?"
"Ooh they're hard." She caressed one. "You could auction them in America. Create a fake IP address they can't trace."
"And you don't want her in the gang," I said to the guys. I stashed the eggs in my bag and hid it under a floorboard. If this all went wrong, the Judge would eat me alive.
***
I parked my motorbike in the same spot. I was surprised the police weren't waiting outside with a pop-up court and mobile gallows. I patrolled the perimeter. Streetlights made the car park glow like a pumpkin. I fired my grappling hook up, tested it then began to climb. I hauled myself onto the roof and glanced down. No security guards. Maybe they were stuck on a crossword clue. I opened the door and headed down the stairs. I strolled along the deserted corridor and knocked on the Judge's door. No answer. I picked the lock, switched off the alarm and released my breath.
I crept through the darkness to the Judge's bedroom. I peeked behind a framed picture on the wall. He was bound to have a safe. Money would be easier to trade than the eggs. I searched his bedroom. Nothing. As I headed out, a floorboard creaked. I crouched and used my knife to prise it up. There it was. I pulled out my sheet of paper and entered the Judge's date of birth. No luck. I tried his wife's. Nope. I tried their wedding anniversary. The safe popped open.
