by Carly Fall
Eris had chosen the slow death after her husband, Sami’s father, had died. She had told Sami that she wanted to be with him, but instead of committing suicide with pills or a couple of slashes to the wrist, she’d quit taking nourishment. Eris had told her the only blood she would ever drink would be her husband’s, and she’d stuck to that, no matter how many times Sami had begged her to drink from the stash they kept at the house. At first, this had angered Sami, and loud arguments had ensued. After the first few months, she’d given up, realizing she could spend the rest of her mother’s time on this Earth either fighting, or loving each other. She chose the latter, and accepted that her mother not only died from lack of blood, but also from a broken heart.
After the death, Aida had washed the body three times, as was custom, then dressed Eris in a long sleeved, ankle-length dress. Her hair should have been parted down the middle and arranged over her breasts and shoulders, but most of it had fallen out. She had then laid her on three white sheets with her hands resting over her heart in prayer. Aida had wrapped Eris in the sheets, always folding the right side over the body first, then the left. The shrouding had been secured with a rope above Eris’ head, two at her body, and one below her feet. Sami hadn’t been able to watch the procedure, but Aida had told her in detail the steps to a proper Muslim burial. In fact, she had insisted that Sami attend classes in the near future to learn the process, but Sami had put her foot down on that. She had no desire to wash dead bodies, nor did she want to be anything like her awful aunt. She’d rather see the woman rot in Hell than to take part in proper burial for her.
Eris had insisted she be buried next to her husband, a Catholic agnostic, who had died about a year prior. Sami had paid double to have the ceremony so quickly and in the late night hours, but it had been worth it to have her mother and father together again.
The cries of those in attendance met her ears. Mostly her mother’s women friends, their very presence in the graveyard going against Muslim tradition as much as the casket did, but her mother had asked Sami to have them all attend. Unfortunately, Sami didn’t feel very godly about any of them, and she had the urge to slap most of them in the face.
For example, Aida, who her mother had always accused of being a drama queen, wore a black laced gown with a veil and howled like a wolf at the moon just to let everyone know that she had fallen into deep, dark grief at her sister’s demise. The fact she hadn’t spoken to Eris for fifty years was completely irrelevant. The reason? Because her mother had married a human. Sami had thought Aida would have a nervous breakdown when she’d told her that her mother wanted to be buried in a non-denominational cemetery. The woman followed the Hadith to the letter, which mandates that a Muslim cannot be buried among non-Muslims, while her mother had been faithful to the Quran, which states that they will only sleep until Allah wakes them. The burial place didn’t seem to matter.
Some of her mother’s friends also cried uncontrollably while others gossiped about the horrible way she’d passed, even though they knew the death had been coming for some time. Sami understood that even when the end of life was imminent, it could be hard to accept. However, in her eyes, most of them had abandoned her mom in her darkest days when she’d needed them the most.
In the beginning, they had visited, and tried to coax her mother to drink, which she’d adamantly refused. They couldn’t understand how a vampire would not drink the very life-sustaining substance she needed—blood—to save her own life. It went against everything natural, and pretty much equaled a human starving herself. It was a long, horrible, painful, debilitating process, one they hadn’t been able to stomach. Her mother had lost so much weight, her bones had poked through her yellowing skin. Her hair had fallen out, and her nails, teeth, and eyes had also turned yellow. It had been a terrifying picture, but if they had truly been Eris’ friends, they would have come around to see her and pushed their own discomfort to the side.
Sami had done her best to follow her mother’s burial wishes to the letter. This afternoon, there had been a memorial luncheon for the humans who grieved her death. Those guests had consisted of mainly her father’s old co-workers and their significant others who didn’t realize her mother had been a vampire. They’d always told their human friends that she had a severe case of Photosensitivity, or an allergy to the sun, and that’s why they didn’t see her during the day. The meal had been a somber affair, but the sadness in the room had been real, unlike this spectacle now.
Although the death had been brutal, Sami did understand her mother’s choice.
When her father had been murdered by a group of rogue vampires, Eris hadn’t wanted to live any longer. She’d deprived herself of the very thing she needed to survive.
Sami had thought she could make her mother want to live again by going out to hunt down the vampires responsible for her father’s death. If she could kill them, justice would have been served. She’d had dreams of kidnapping them one by one, then tying them up out in the desert outside Los Angeles where they’d literally burn into ash as the sun rose. If she could avenge her father’s death, maybe her mother would want to live again, but Sami had been way over her head since Day One.
When her father lay on his deathbed, with very little blood flowing through his veins and chunks of his flesh torn from his bones, she should have realized that the vampires responsible were evil and sadistic.
Well, she had realized that, but she’d thought she could handle it. Her dad had brought her up teaching her how to fight, and she’d let her fists fly in more than one skirmish. However, standing up to the stronger vampires had left her feeling like a baby flailing its fists up against a dinosaur.
Presently, as the head of the funeral home finished his words, the casket began to lower. Her aunt howled louder, yet, Sami couldn’t see a tear below her veil. Her mother’s friends continued the gossip, somehow thinking that the sound of machinery drowned out their voices, and a tear finally slid down Sami’s cheek.
The funeral director motioned her forward, breaking into her thoughts and setting her into action.
He leaned in and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to say any words or offer anyone else the opportunity to do so?”
She shook her head, having said everything she needed to while her mother had been alive. If she offered up the chance for someone else to speak, she’d only find herself more irritated with the whole situation. Instead, she laid the white rose on her mother’s casket and nodded to the funeral director to lower it fully into the ground.
She was utterly alone now. As an only child, she had no siblings. When her mother had revealed to her family that she would marry a human, they’d pretty much disowned her. Her father’s parents had died about ten years ago, and she certainly didn’t want anything to do with her dramatic aunt.
Thankfully, the ceremony came to an end a few moments later. She thanked the director, then accepted condolences from a few people. Some asked if there would be a reception, and she shook her head. Her mother hadn’t mentioned anything like that in her will, probably thinking that Sami would want as little to do with the vampires in attendance as possible.
Eris had always looked out for her.
Finally, the crowd dispersed, and Sami slid into her car, completely exhausted. Between the actual death, putting up with her harpy aunt, and pulling together the most untraditional Muslim burial she’d ever witnessed, she ran on empty.
She drove back to her childhood home, where she still lived at age twenty-eight. She’d never butted heads with her parents like most teenagers do, so when she’d reached adulthood, she hadn’t been desperate to get away from them. They’d never pressured her to move out, and had seemed to enjoy having her around. It was just the three of them, and she’d been happy.
She parked the car in the garage and killed the engine. It seemed to take copious amounts of energy to get out of the vehicle, but she found it. She walked into the house, turning on the lights in the laundry room and kitchen as she went.
After kicking off her shoes, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine. She poured a large glass, then sat down on the couch facing the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the backyard.
This area of the house had rarely been used when her parents had been alive. Sami and her father had been content to stay underground with Eris in the basement. Now, she couldn’t bring herself to go down there.
With so little vampire DNA floating through her veins, she was more human than not. The only vampire trait she possessed was the need to have blood every now and then. She usually got by on once a year or so, and she compared it to a super vitamin infusion that helped revive her.
Since her mother’s death, she’d spent most of her time right here on this couch. Although her time had been busy arranging her mother’s funeral and speaking to her family’s friends and relatives, she’d never felt so alone in her life.
Taking a long sip of her wine, she pulled one of the grey throw pillows onto her lap and ran her hand over it. A year ago, her life had been perfect, and now, it felt as if she had nothing. Yet, she had no more tears to cry for herself, or her parents. What her next step would be, she didn’t know.
Setting down the wine glass, she stretched out on the couch and pulled a blanket over her torso.
At some point, she’d need to find some direction, some way to put this year in her past, and keep from drowning in the sadness consuming her, yet retain her beautiful memories of a family that was no more.
2
The next day after very little sleep, Sami hoped a jog would clear her head. Even though she didn't feel like eating and had trouble resting, she didn't want her whole routine to go to Hell.
Upon returning from her two-mile run, the depression refused to lift, and after a shower, she took her place on the couch. She turned on the television, hoping for some kind of distraction, but after a half-hour, she still hadn't found one.
The past few days, she'd become obsessed with the hunt she'd initiated on the rogue vampires who had killed her father, and by default, as far as she was concerned, her mother, as well.
She knew they'd met their demise--she'd read about the fireball outside Barstow and who was responsible.
Connor--the damn human who saw auras around vampires. She'd had no idea that humans possessed such abilities before she'd met him, but he'd been telling her the truth. But boy, had she screwed things up with him. Thinking about it only sank her mood lower.
A knock sounded at the door, startling her. She got up and hoped it wasn't more flowers, or some relative coming out of the woodwork to pay their condolences. She'd had enough of both, and also found out she had a particularly bad allergy to daisies.
She opened the front door to find no one there, but a white, parchment envelope lay at her feet. Glancing around the quiet neighborhood, she didn't notice a delivery driver, nor did she hear any delivery trucks. Leaning over, she picked up the envelope and returned back inside.
Her first name was written across the front in perfect calligraphy. She guessed it was some note of condolence and threw it on the table and went back to watching television. She didn't need to read anything about how sorry someone was for her loss because no matter how many times she heard it, the words never brought her any relief.
After a few moments, she detected a strange smell--a faint, earthy scent. She got up and walked around the house to investigate if a window was open and blowing in pollen of some sort. Then, she sniffed her clothes, thinking she'd picked up the wrong detergent. The odor seemed stronger as she approached the envelope, and finally, she sat down to open it.
* * *
Dear Ms. Karim,
You are invited to join our organization, Operation Underworld. We specialize in hunting those paranormal species that want to harm humans. If you were to come into our ranks, it would be a huge benefit for us. We watched you hunt those vampires that killed your father. You have the tenacity, the intelligence, and the ability to think on your feet that we look for in our recruits.
Along with generous compensation, all your living and travel expenses will be covered for the duration of your assignment.
If you wish to accept this invitation, light a candle and burn this packet of sage on your windowsill. After that is done, we will be in touch with you shortly.
* * *
The letter had been written on the same white parchment as the envelope and in the same flourished calligraphy. A small plastic package lay at the bottom, and as she brought it up to her nose, she immediately recognized the scent. Sage. Her mother had used it when cooking their holiday meals, especially their Thanksgiving turkey.
She reread the letter again. What made her so special? As far as she was concerned, she was pretty average. And what was Operation Underworld? The word underworld reminded her of Hell and all the fun things that went along with it, such as Satan, demons, fire, and torture. What organization would name themselves that? And what did lighting a candle and burning sage have to do with anything?
"Stupid," she muttered, tossing the letter aside, and she went to go shower.
She turned on the water and stripped down while waiting for the spray to warm. Stepping into the tub, she shut her eyes as the hot water made its way through her thick, black, shoulder-length hair.
As she showered, her mind kept drifting back to what she'd just read. It was as if that stupid letter had some magical pull, begging her to do as it asked.
She felt so utterly lost, like a boat out to sea with no motor or sail. For just over a year, her life had been consumed with caring for her mother and trying to find the vampires that had killed her father. She'd never been particularly social, even as a child, preferring to live in her imagination and play dress-up, read books, or spend time with her parents. Those habits had continued throughout her life, and for some reason, she never could picture her existence without her parents in it. Yet, here she stood. Now, she had nowhere to be, no place to go, and no one to accompany her. For the first time in her life of self-imposed isolation, loneliness seemed to be crushing her.
Maybe instead of looking at the letter as a stupid prank or a hoax, she should just follow the instructions and see what might happen. She could consider it an adventure. What would burning a candle and sage in a window hurt? Nothing. It would give her something to think about besides the hopelessness and sadness that consumed her. They said they would contact her after she'd torched the sage. Who were they? Other vampires?
Yes, now she needed to find out as curiosity ate at her. It could take her mind off her current state of despair, and if something happened, great. If not, no harm, no foul.
Stepping from the shower, she wrapped a towel around her head, then one around her body. After wiping the steam from the mirror, she stared at herself.
Her mother had been of Middle Eastern descent, emigrating from Turkey about fifty years ago. Because she was a vampire, she'd lived longer than humans, and had barely aged. At the time of her death, she'd been about a hundred and twenty years old, but didn't look a day over fifty, which was the age of her father when he'd died. Sami, however, did not get those genes. Based on the small lines beginning to form around her dark eyes, she seemed to be following the aging patterns of humans.
Her tawny skin remained clear, except for the deep, purple circles under her eyes. She rarely wore makeup, but her father had always told her how beautiful she was. She certainly didn't think of herself as ugly, but she could never compare to her mother's exquisite dark looks and sunny disposition.
She quickly dressed and ran downstairs to her parents' rooms to get one of her mother's candles.
As she looked around the area, her chest began to ache.
The taupe walls and red velvet furniture looked elegant and aristocratic, yet, this area had been where they'd been a family. They'd laughed and loved here, and visions of her and her parents sitting on the sofas watching the fifty-inch television played before her. To the right of the main living area stood a small,
white kitchen. Although her father had done most of the cooking upstairs in the main kitchen, her mother had still liked to fiddle around with the pots and pans every now and then during the daylight hours, making stew recipes she'd had growing up.
To the left stood a door--her parents' bedroom. The door hadn't been opened since her father's death, her mother preferring to sleep on the couch, and she'd died on the red velvet piece.
Sami didn't dare enter the room. It almost felt as if her parents' ghosts lived behind the door, but she didn't want to open it to find out if her assessment was true, because if it was, she didn't want to disturb them. For some reason, it brought her comfort to think that they were together in spirit in that room, and she wanted to maintain that consolation. Instead, she grabbed one of the candles from the side table. Turning off the lights, she headed back upstairs.
Grabbing the envelope and dumping the contents on the table, she moved to the back window and lay everything on the sill.
She sat down on the floor and read the letter again.
If you wish to accept this invitation, light a candle and burn this packet of sage on your windowsill.
Damn. She'd forgotten the matches. And, she had nothing to hold the sage.
With a small curse, she went to the kitchen to retrieve a book of matches, but only found a butane lighter her father had used to fire up the barbeque. It was a bit extreme, but it would work. She grabbed a glass mixing bowl from the sink and quickly dried it.
Sitting down once again, she placed the sage in the bowl. She clicked the lighter and placed it on the candle wick, then to the sage.
Within moments, the room filled with smoke, and she began to cough. She stood to open the sliding glass door, her eyes watering from the acrid smell of the herb.
Sucking in the fresh, afternoon air, she hoped the smoke detectors didn't go off.
