Cthulhu's Daughter and Other Horror Tales

by Rhiannon Frater

“You're lying.”

  He is leaning against the window across from the piano. The skyline of New York spreads out behind him in a panorama of earthbound stars. He looks so young. She always thinks of him as being ancient, but at moments like these, with his hair newly shorn and his clothes reflecting the latest fashion trends, he is wonderfully young and fresh.

  She shrugs in response to his accusation. Her fingers fumble with the keys on the piano, not really playing, just musing.

  “You've been going out a lot, Elise.”

  “I'm bored. When I'm bored, I wander.”

  His large arms are folded over his broad chest. He looks like a young football player at a local high school somewhere in Virginia. He's angry. She can feel it. When he cannot control her, he grows angry. It has been so long since she loved him and he knows it.

  “Don't do anything stupid,” he orders.

  “Jacob,” she says in a plaintive voice, “would I do that?”

  He is a blur, then she is up against the wall, his huge body pressed hard against hers.

  “Don't think I don't know what goes on in your mind? Don't think I haven't seen flashes of your desire. A child, Elise? Really? Are you that bored? If you are, I can relieve you of this immortal coil, you know? I made you. I can destroy you.”

  She flashes back to that moment when he had pinned her to the ground outside of her family's dilapidated homestead in West Virginia so long ago. Her threadbare dress had torn when he had seized her and she had been distraught when she heard it rip. The thought of her husband beating her for destroying her only dress had filled her with fear until Jacob had bared his fangs and sank them into her slim throat. That was when everything had changed and she had been lost to the darkness.

  Elise tries not to look into his eyes. She tries not to feel her fear rising up inside of her. He can read her thoughts even more clearly when she is afraid. She has to divert him now or everything will be lost.

  She wraps her long legs around his waist, grips his thick neck with her hands, and kisses him deeply.

  They may hate each other, but they are joined by blood. Within seconds they are lost in a fever of lust. When his teeth sinks into her neck and he fills her sex, she closes her eyes and tries not to weep.

  3

  Elise perches on the fire escape and taps on the window of the little boy's room. It is the only bedroom in this tiny apartment. It's not much bigger than the living room where the mother is trying to sleep on the battered sofa. It is obvious the mother has tried hard to decorate the little room in cheerful blue and red with a big tattered poster of Spider-man, rescued from a trash bin outside a theater, hanging on the wall.

  Tapping lightly again, she smiles as the boy stirs and looks through the glass at her. Sitting up, he rubs one hand across his eyes.

  “Hi,” he says. “I like your sunglasses.”

  She laughs and takes them off, revealing her green eyes.

  “I like your room.”

  He cocks his head. “I saw you today.”

  “I saw you, too.”

  “I saw you another time, too.”

  “I know.”

  He slips from the bed and walks over to the window to peer up at her.

  “You're pretty.”

  “So are you. Can I come in?” Elise pushes back her dark hair from her face and tries to not look threatening.

  This is the first time he shows any hesitation. With a sigh, he says, “I'm not supposed to talk to strangers.”

  “Well, Dylan, my name is Elise. And your Mom is Brianna. See? We're not strangers.”

  “Mama's asleep,” he says thoughtfully. “She's tired. She works a lot.”

  “I know, so we don't want to wake her. Can I come in for a little visit?”

  Dylan considers, pursing his lips.

  She takes out the bag of donuts and the chocolate milk she purchased at the corner store. “I brought a snack.”

  “Okay, but be quiet. Mama is sleeping.”

  “Turn around,” she says.

  He obeys slowly, his green eyes lingering longingly at the donuts. Finally, he turns completely around, his back to her. She slides effortlessly into the room through the crack under the window and moves to sit on his bed.

  “Here, come here. Sit and eat these. I need to check on your Mom real quick.”

  With a little giggle, he sits on the bed and helps himself to the donuts. “Be quiet though. Mama is tired.”

  She loves the sound of his little voice. The thought of him one day calling her mama thrills her.

  Entering the small room that doubles as a kitchen and living room, she is quiet and stealthy. Moving over to the sofa, she can see the young mother is deeply asleep. At her side is a large tote bag that doubles as her purse. Manila folders, neatly labeled, fill most of it.

  Elise pulls out a folder, opens it, and reads, her eyes able to see clearly in the darkness.

  It is then that she knows for sure. Little Jacob is dying of leukemia and his desperate mother, so young and worn down with life, is his crusader.

  Tilting back her head, she inhales deeply, smelling the staleness of the room and death lingering so nearby. It is perfect.

  Too perfect.

  They are in need of the liberation she can bring to their tortured weary lives.

  She smirks with pleasure.

  Returning to the bedroom, she looms over Dylan as he eats his donuts.

  “Are they good?”

  “Uh huh. I love donuts!” He giggles and smiles at her, his face smeared with powdered sugar and chocolate.

  “Eat them up.”

  “Do you want one?”

  “Oh, no. I will eat soon enough. Eat them up.”

  Happily, Dylan eats his last meal, taking sips of his chocolate milk, looking so adorable in his Spider-man pajamas, snuggled into his bed of frayed and worn covers, as the cold harsh wind blows outside and the snow starts to fall.

  4

  Brianna stirs. Her head feels heavy on the pillow. The room is dark, but the light filtering around the shades is gray. Glancing at the clock, she is startled to see it is already two hours into her shift at the café down the street. Quickly sitting up, she reaches for the phone, an excuse ready to pour from her lips, desperate to not be fired from the job that is so vital to her son’s life.

  The phone is crushed to pieces on the stand.

  Gasping, she looks frantically around the room.

  The one piece of furniture that she owns that has any worth, her great grandmothers wardrobe, is shoved up against the front door.

  As she stands, her hands begin to tremble.

  It is then that she sees the dark-haired woman leaning against the tiny kitchen counter staring at her. Eerily, the woman's eyes seem to glimmer like those of a cat.

  “I'm here for Dylan.”

  Brianna is so startled by the sight of this woman and her bizarre eyes that she can barely understand the words spoken to her.

  “What?”

  “I'm here for Dylan.”

  “Who are you?”

  The woman laughs slightly. “Death.”

  Terrified, Brianna reaches for the phone, then remembers. Who is this insane woman in her apartment? Her eyes dart to Dylan's bedroom door. If she has hurt her son...

  “Dylan!”

  She darts to the door, but the woman appears in front of it with supernatural speed.

  Brianna gasps, afraid.

  “He's sleeping.”

  “What have you done to my son!” Brianna tries to budge the woman from the door, but the woman easily resists. Brianna lashes out at her, but her wrist is firmly captured.

  The woman with the eerie eyes draws near. “You've done a good job up until now, Brianna, but we both know he is going to die. It is time for him to die. You have done so much to give him life, giving birth to him, trying to keep him healthy, taking him to doctors, trying so hard to feed him. You've done such a good job for so long keeping him alive, you have slowly withered to a mere
shell of the girl you were. I'm here to relieve you of your pain. To release you and Dylan from this miserable life.”

  Brianna slaps the woman with her other hand. The flesh is cold and unmoving and her hand burns with the sting. “Get out!” She is so afraid. Terrified. She must be dreaming. A brief moment of insanity grips her and she looks to the couch to see if she is still sleeping there.

  “I want my baby! Let me go!”

  “I told you he's sleeping. He won't be awake for hours yet. Maybe not until tomorrow night.”

  “What did you do to him? What did you do to my, baby?”

  Brianna feels a hysterical sob building up inside of her.

  “Released him. He's mine now, Brianna. My child.” The woman's eyes are not cruel, but determined.

  “No, he's mine. He's mine! What did you do to him? Who are you?”

  “His new mother,” the woman answers, and gripping both of her wrists, pushes her back across the room. Her face is determined, cruel, and yet beautiful. “Let's not make this difficult.”

  “Please, please,” Brianna wails. “Please don't hurt him. Please.” She is pushed back until her back slams up against the grimy wall. She tries to avoid looking into those terribly-glimmering green eyes. “Please. Please, I just want my son.”

  “He's my son,” the woman answers.

  Brianna’s anger overwhelms her fear and she looks straight into those awful eyes and shouts. “He's mine! My son! Let me go!”

  The strange woman just smiles, then suddenly pins Brianna's arms against the wall. Serpent quick, she locks onto Brianna's throat. Sharp pain fills Brianna's senses, blotting out her senses. Then as the slurping begins, her body falls into a languid pleasure and she forgets everything.

  Even her little boy locked in the darkness of his bedroom.

  5

  Elise watches Brianna sleep on the ratty sofa covered in equally-ratty knitted throws. The young woman is too thin and her cheekbones and jaw are harsh in an otherwise soft, pretty face. The signs of her feeding are fading from the human’s punctured throat. She took enough to shove back the hunger, but not enough to be completely sated. She has to keep her strength for Dylan when he wakes up.

  She realizes she moved too fast but she had no choice. Jacob will only be out of the city for a few nights. She prays that Dylan will turn quickly, feed fully, and be ready to flee in a short time. Otherwise, it will only be a matter of time before Jacob finds them and destroys Dylan.

  Her body clenches with need, but she dare not leave the apartment. If Dylan awakens with the madness of the hunger upon him, she will need to control him until he has fed enough to sate his thirst and restore his mind.

  Glancing at her watch, she sighs. Time always seems to be her foe despite her immortality.

  She can feel the sun sinking down toward the horizon in the hollowness of her body. Raising her eyes, she looks toward the human mother still slumbering. Jealousy and bitterness eats at her. Long ago she had lost the ability to have children, grow older, and find the release of death at the end of her years. Immortality and ever-lasting beauty is merely a curse when the years are long, boring, and cruel. Yet, she cannot give up her life. Her instinct is to live.

  She envies Brianna. The mortal mother will fulfill her love for her child by giving up her life for him. It is an action she knows she is incapable of. She is a monster.

  But she is a monster who wants to love, to feel, to do more than exist.

  The digital clock announces another minute in eternity has passed.

  The sun continues its descent.

  6

  Brianna awakens.

  The room is full of blackness. There is no light from outside the apartment. The sounds of the city filter through the walls, but somehow the darkness makes her surroundings seem silent.

  “Hello?”

  “He's wakening,” a voice answers.

  Sitting up slowly, memories flood Brianna's wakening mind. Her hand flies to her throat. “What did you do to me? Where is Dylan?”

  She feels the darkness stirring around her and something soft, maybe a finger, touches her cheek for a moment.

  “Do you love him?”

  “Of course!”

  “Would you do anything for him?”

  “Of course! Where is he? What have you done?” Brianna is terrified, but determined. Her hands stray into the darkness, seeking out the lamp to use it as a weapon.

  A cold, strong hand grips her wrist.

  “Would you die for him?”

  “What?”

  “If the only way for him to live was for you to die, would you accept that?”

  “What are you talking about?” Brianna tries to pull her wrist away and is surprised when she is released. Falling back on the sofa, she blinks, trying to see into the blackness.

  “Do you mean it? Would you die for him? Do you love him so much you would die for him?”

  Brianna suddenly understands that these are not idle questions. The other woman's words are full of heavy emotion and need. Brianna realizes the woman wants her to not only tell her the truth, but craves that it will speak of love's sacrifice.

  She can barely speak as she says, “Yes. I would die so he could live.” Her hands tremble as she touches her neck, the truth of her situation becoming apparent even though it seems utterly impossible.

  The lamp flips on. The woman is sitting in a kitchen chair drawn close to the sofa. Dylan is asleep in her arms. He looks pale and still. He looks dead.

  Brianna gasps and darts to her feet. She surges forward to snatch her son away from the woman. His eyes snap open and he stares at her with glimmering eyes.

  The woman finally looks up at Brianna. She is crying bloody tears.

  Brianna sobs, her hands covering her mouth as she falls to her knees.

  “Mommy?” Dylan yawns, tiny little fangs showing in his mouth. Snuggled against the other woman, he smiles at her. “I feel better.”

  The woman runs her hand affectionately over his hair. “Are you hungry, little one?”

  Dylan sits up on her lap and rubs his eyes, nodding. “Yeah. My tummy is growling.”

  Brianna's gaze meets the woman's. Slowly, Brianna holds out her arms to Dylan. He slides off the vampire's lap and into her arms. She holds his cold little body against hers, his face tucked against her neck.

  “I'll take good care of him,” the vampire says.

  “Please, do.” Brianna strokes his brown hair, closing her eyes and relishing his arms around her.

  Then the bite comes.

  7

  Elise stares down at Brianna, a piece of her dead soul stirring. The human mother has done it. She has given herself freely. Elise feels strangely alive seeing the act of love. The young mother's breathing is unsteady, her eyes glazed. Dylan isn't aware of what he has done, that he has brought his mother close to death. He is sitting next to her, stroking her hair. Their voices are soft as they speak, sharing memories of a short life.

  She knows she should finish Brianna off, but she feels compelled to let them have these last few moments before they leave. Brianna's heartbeat is faint. It shouldn't be too long now.

  “I don't think my mom feels good,” Dylan tells her. “Can you fix her like you fixed me?” He looks up at her with those wonderful eyes.

  “I can't. I don't have enough left inside of me to make her what we are,” Elise says tiredly. She needs to feed. Her veins ache.

  “It's okay, Dylan. She's going to take you somewhere safe and good,” Brianna whispers.

  “Elise, I want to take my mommy.”

  She sighs and runs her hand over his hair. “We can't. We need to—”

  “Elise, what the fuck are you doing?”

  Jacob's voice. Outside the window. Angry and demanding.

  She grabs Dylan, holding him tight.

  “Elise, open the damn window. Get your human to open the window. Elise!”

  Brianna rolls her head, painfully and slowly toward the window. “Who is it?
”

  “He'll kill your son. Don't let him in!”

  “What?”

  “He has to be invited in. Don't do it!”

  “Elise, I can hear you! What have you done? I smell your new creation. Is it that child?”

  Clutching Dylan tight, Elise feels her body trembling. For the first time in a long time, she feels fear.

  “Elise, what have you done?”

  They are trapped. If they try to leave, Jacob will kill the boy and entomb her as punishment. She cannot endure another decade trapped in a coffin.

  “Don't let him hurt our son,” Brianna whispers. “Please.” She reaches her hand out to the vampire, pleading with her.

  Hesitantly, Elise takes Brianna's hand. The human presses her hand, her eyes seeking confirmation, a promise.

  “I can't escape from here. We're trapped. He'll wait us out. We can't leave during the day. We can't flee at night,” Elise confesses.

  Brianna closes her eyes, her breath more shallow than before.

  “Don't let Mommy die,” Dylan says, his hand pressed against Elise’s cheek. “Please Mama Elise, don't let Mommy die.”

  “Elise, gawddammit! Open this fucking window! What have you done?” Jacob's voice is a growl of anger.

  Dylan slides off her lap as Elise kneels next to Brianna. Slowly, a plan forms in her mind. “If I do this, I will be weak. But I can hold off the hunger a little longer. We will speak after the sun rises. Wake me. I'll be weak, but wake me.”

  “Elise, open the window and I'll show you mercy.”

  “But he'll kill Dylan,” Elise whispers to Brianna as she lies next to her. She draws the mortal into her arms. With a sharp nail, she opens her throat.

  Without prodding, Brianna rests her mouth against the wound and drinks.

  8

  All night, as Elise's blood swirled through her, healing her, restoring her, refreshing her mortal life but with the spark of the undead intermixed, Brianna listened to Jacob cajole, rage, and plead with them to open the window. On the fourteenth floor (technically the thirteenth, but renamed due to superstition), Jacob's perch was high above the alley below. He stayed there all night, perched on her air conditioner, demanding entry. His voice terrified her.