The Girl Who Digs Graves

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The Girl Who Digs Graves Page 8

by Willie E. Dalton


  “Is it weird that I don’t want to let go of this?” I asked, tugging at the flowered blouse I couldn’t even remember owning.

  “Darling, nothing is weird here.” His long slim fingers gently tossed his hair back over his shoulder, and he winked an amber eye at me.

  A giggle caught in my throat; I couldn’t bring myself to let it out, but I smiled.

  When he walked over to me from behind the counter, I saw he was wearing flowy, black bell-bottom pants, and a peasant style black shirt embroidered with gold beads that brought out the gold in his eyes.

  “Love the outfit,” I smiled.

  “It’s all in here,” he said with a wave of his arm.

  “I was looking for something more… me. Jeans, maybe—t-shirt?”

  He shrugged. “Well you’re cute enough to pull anything off.”

  “Thanks,” I said as he led the way through the shop.

  “How long have you been here, doll?” he asked as he held up a pair of jeans in front of my waist, and shook his head no, choosing another pair.

  “Uhh, yesterday, this morning? I haven’t really figured out time here,” I admitted, and chose a black t-shirt hanging nearby on a rack.

  “If you do figure it out, let me know. Things are what they are here, until they aren’t.” He finally selected a pair of dark wash jeans and handed them to me. “Here, go try these on.”

  I went behind the little curtain in the back and changed into my new clothes. They fit, and made me feel more like myself. I looked at the old jeans and shirt I had been buried in. It made me wonder: who chose that for me to spend eternity in? Practical, yes, but not very pretty. Not that it mattered, anyway.

  “Do you like the clothes?” the vampire called.

  “Yes, they work well,” I answered.

  “Great, you can just keep them on,” he replied, and pulled back the curtain.

  He looked me over and nodded. “Nice, but are you certain you don’t want something more interesting?”

  “I’m a reaper. I’m afraid anything more interesting wouldn’t work out too well.” I smiled.

  He shrugged and wrinkled his brow. “Why are you a reaper?” He asked with obvious distaste.

  “I was a gravedigger in life. I wanted to stick with what I know.”

  “I was a train engineer. I wanted to do nothing like what I did in life,” he giggled.

  I thanked him for the help and said goodbye, heading back to the field.

  The sky still looked like a wet blanket had been spread across it, and the fields of dead under the ground still went on forever. I missed rain and sunshine, and most of all, wind. I couldn’t register a temperature here, not in myself or my surroundings. I wasn’t uncomfortable, but to not be able to “feel” hot or cold on my skin was inhuman.

  I wanted to lie down and rest, so I went to my little box that I had been assigned. The inside was laid out so much like the home I had lived in, my heart ached and I swallowed down the tears. I wondered if pain got better in time here... Or would I always hurt this much?

  Lying on the bed, I closed my eyes. Darkness pulled me in, and I felt like I was floating, then flying through space and time. Memories of Ray and my childhood danced before my eyes, then traveling and my college years. Raphael was suddenly there, introducing himself, kissing me, inside me, and I felt myself shudder. Then I saw myself die, so bloody and torn, dragging myself to the road and letting go.

  I opened my eyes and gasped. I didn’t want to remember any of that. I just wanted death to be peace and darkness—nothingness.

  Something caught my eye just outside the window. Was that... sunshine? The golden rays were streaking down over the plain brown dirt like little strands of hope. I remembered what the lady had told me about being able to see the living when the sun shines here. I jumped up and was out the door faster than I had ever moved in my life.

  I ran through the fields towards the city, ignoring every person I saw. I had to get to the fountain. I tried to remember where I had seen the fountain, but it was a blur in my head from the excitement I was feeling.

  I spotted a man walking the opposite way and paused just long enough to ask him, “Excuse me, sir, where is the fountain in town?”

  His smile was kind, but he shook his head. “It’s two streets down. Don’t look though, it’s harder than you think.”

  I thanked him and ran on, not even considering turning back. This was my chance to see Raphael.

  I could barely see the fountain as I approached, even though it was huge. People were everywhere, squeezed in on top of one another, to get a glimpse of the people they had left behind. I tried to squeeze my way in too. It didn’t matter if I had to sit on a stranger’s lap to see, even for a second.

  A woman at the edge of the fountain turned to me as she dried her tears. “Here, you can take my spot. I was only checking on my son.”

  “Thank you,” I laid my hand on her shoulder and slid into her spot as she fought her way out.

  I could see the fountain more clearly now. The water flowed down from the top, filling what looked like little silver bowls all the way down, each bowl overflowing into the next one. I looked down into the bowl in front of me and saw nothing. I glanced around and saw people putting a finger into the water, so I tried that.

  The moment my skin touched the water, I saw it—like a movie playing in front of me. I saw my cabin, empty of my things. I saw my graveyard, heavy machinery digging a grave. It hurt.

  Instead, I thought about Raphael. Then, I saw him too. He was in his Jeep, sitting somewhere that I knew had to be out west. He was parked on a mountain, looking out at tall red rocks and a beautiful sunset. He looked peaceful, and I was thankful.

  He took out his phone, opened the lock screen and stared down at the picture on the background: it was me. Raphael had taken a candid picture of me sitting in the floor of my living room after our first official date. My hair was down and I was smiling.

  He touched the picture and his breath came out harsh and long. Then he scrolled through other pictures in his phone until he found one of a sunset like the one in front of him, and changed the background.

  I bit my lip, fighting back tears for more reasons than I could begin to count. He was so beautiful, and his eyes were so full of sadness—sadness I only ever wanted to fix, but instead ended up making so much worse.

  I pulled myself up from the fountain, and numbly turned to go back to the field. My feet carried me forward, but my brain was turned off. I wasn’t thinking about Raphael; I wasn’t thinking about digging graves. I couldn’t feel anything. I pulled up every shield I could muster and forced myself to feel nothing.

  I kept waiting for the acres of brown and dead to come up in the distance, but everywhere I looked there were only gray buildings and gray sidewalk. It didn’t take a genius to figure out I had gotten myself turned around. Damn.

  Things felt as though they were closing in around me, and the wall of numbness I had faked was slipping. I had nowhere to go that felt safe, nowhere that held even an ounce of comfort.

  Movement caught my eye down one of the shadowed alleys. I walked towards it, hoping to find someone to ask which direction I needed to be going. As I made my way into the shadows, I seemed to still be all alone, but it felt… different.

  There was no sound, and from what I could see there was no one in the alley with me. I looked up as I walked, silently remarking on the Gothic architecture towering above me. The buildings had turned from gray to black, and seemed to be close enough to touch at their peaks, creating an archway to walk beneath. That was why it was so dark.

  I felt as though I was walking into an entirely different world. The sidewalk seemed to narrow, and once again I found myself feeling claustrophobic. I stopped and looked back, only to see I had walked so far into the darkness here that I couldn’t see the road I had started on.

  A figure stepped out of the shadows beside me, and I screamed. He didn’t react. I could tell he was a vampire, but somet
hing about him was different from the others I had met. The other vampires I’d seen were beautiful, entrancing. This one had stringy white hair that hung in clumps against his visible scalp; paper-thin, chalky skin that I could see the blue and red veins beneath. The eyes weren’t lovely like the other vampires I had seen, just endless pools of cold blackness.

  He tilted his head at unnatural angles trying to figure me out, like a dog that hears a strange noise, then he stepped in closer and smelled my hair.

  “Freshly dead,” he hissed, and smiled showing fangs, yellow and black with rot.

  I choked back another scream, and backed slowly away from the vampire. Something was very wrong here.

  His eyes were on mine, and when I thought I could turn to run, he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled it up to his mouth.

  This time I did scream, I screamed and kicked and tried to pull at his hair. None of my flailing seemed to bother him in the slightest; he opened his mouth to bite, and I closed my eyes.

  “She’s a friend, Rasputin.” I recognized the voice as Boude.

  The pathetic vampire in front of me dropped my arm, and then did what I can only describe as “scampered” back into the shadows.

  I turned around to see Boude standing behind me; he practically glowed, with his red curls and gold waistcoat. His green eyes sparkled at me and he smiled, careful not to show fangs.

  I ran to him and he pulled me into his arms. A small sob escaped my lips as I buried my face in his hair.

  “There, there,” he comforted as he petted my hair. “You’re safe. He won’t bother you again.”

  “I thought vampires couldn’t drink from us if we’re already dead,” I said between heaves.

  “Shouldn’t… it doesn’t truly sustain us, which is why Rasputin looks the way he does. Over time, our brains turn to mush on dead blood, as well, so it can drive us mad.” Boude squeezed me to him a little tighter as my sobs turned to sniffles.

  “Is that the ‘real’ Rasputin?” I asked, recalling the history stories.

  “No one is really certain. He seems to think so, but he’s been drinking dead blood for quite some time now. This is the Vampire’s Quarter, not very safe for you. Most of us are harmless, but still, what were you doing here?”

  “I went to the fountain to look, then I was distraught trying to find my way back to the fields, and got turned around.” I dropped my head so that my forehead was against his chest, he smelled like spices, like incense, and underneath, a very faint scent of pennies.

  Boude raised my chin up to look at him. I would never get used to looking a vampire in the eyes. It was too confusing with no pupils.

  “Sweet little, Hel. That fountain brings much more sorrow than relief. You have to move on.” He paused. “The one you miss has, hasn’t he?”

  I bit my lip to hold back a tear, but it didn’t work. The hot, wet drop rolled down my face, and Boude wiped it away, cupping the side of my face in his hand. His skin was warmer and softer than I had expected. I closed my eyes and sighed. I felt his other arm tighten around my back, and then his lips were on mine, oh so softly. I tensed and pulled back. I opened my eyes only to be staring right into the shining emerald gems that were his.

  He blushed, which I didn’t know was possible, and said, “Forgive me. I just wanted to comfort you. I—”

  I stopped his words with my mouth back on his. This kiss was longer, but still gentle and soft.

  He broke the kiss this time and searched my face. Apparently, he liked what he saw because he smiled. “May I walk you back to the fields?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Arm in arm, we walked back through the gray city to the brown fields, and as long as I was touching him, my mind was peaceful. I wondered if it was some kind of vampire magic, but didn’t care.

  As we approached the fields I saw Soren and Billy digging nearby. A look of disgust crossed Soren’s face.

  “What are you doing here, vampire?” Soren spat the last word.

  “The lady found herself in a less than ideal situation. She asked me to help her find her way back,” Boude replied.

  Soren made some kind of snorting sound. “Well, be on your way soon.”

  I was angry. “He’s my friend, and he can stay as long as I say.” My voice was shaky, but biting.

  Soren shook his head in disapproval, but went back to digging. Billy said nothing; he just watched, then started digging again.

  As we walked on toward the housing, I told Boude I was sorry for Soren’s behavior.

  “Many people don’t like vampires. They think it’s evil or weak that we give up our souls to walk among the living for as long as we choose,” Boude shrugged.

  “I can understand making that choice. I don’t think it’s evil or weak,” I said.

  “Don’t tell me you are considering it yourself?” the vampire inquired with a look I perceived as eagerness.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.” We stopped walking in front of my little place. “I kind of think I should keep my soul.”

  “Well I will support you with any choice you make. Thank you for letting me walk you home.” He kissed my hand and turned to leave.

  “Thanks again for saving me.”

  “Anytime,” he said, and gave a small bow.

  I walked up to my door, and as I turned the knob I was struck by the evening’s events, and the most overwhelming feeling of loneliness. It was such a deep, heart crushing feeling that I simply couldn’t bear it. I turned around and called out to the vampire walking away from me.

  “Boude.”

  He turned, an inquisitive look on his face, and walked back towards me.

  I went to him and tangled my fingers in his hair as I kissed him, long and deep, before pulling back to say, “I don’t think I can stand being alone. Will you stay with me?”

  Wordlessly, he scooped me up and carried me into the house, gently kicking the door closed behind him. He laid me down on the bed and kissed me. I watched as he undressed me, gently caressing my skin with touches and kisses.

  I helped him out of his waistcoat and shirt, and ran my fingers along his smooth skin. Images of Raphael filled my mind: my nights with him, the care he took with my body, and the immense desire I had for him. Boude was lovely, and everything he was doing felt good, but my mind kept drifting away to the love that I’d had.

  “Maybe this will help you focus,” Boude said as he settled himself between my legs and smiled up at me. “I promise to be mindful of my fangs.”

  His mouth and tongue worked on the most intimate parts of me, and it was incredible. The orgasm washed over me like a cool tide, strong but calming. It settled my mind, and my body was happy.

  Boude kissed a line up my body and stopped to tease my nipples for a while. The afterglow from the orgasm faded, and I still needed more.

  I gently tugged on his hair to get his attention and said, “Inside me, please.”

  He nipped at my skin hard enough for me to cry out, and positioned himself against me. My logical brain clicked on, and I asked, “Condom?”

  “Vampires are incapable of carrying disease, and we’re both dead, so pregnancy is also not a concern.”

  I laughed. “Makes sense.”

  He smiled and kissed me, his soft curls falling around us like a crimson curtain. He kissed me softly, and gently opened my mouth to his with his tongue. As he kissed me, he slid inside of me so very slowly, letting me feel each inch of him. I moaned and gasped against his mouth, but he wouldn’t let me break the kiss; his tongue took over my mouth as his body took over mine. I was filled with him, and when he couldn’t push into me any further, his body stilled while his mouth worked hungrily at mine.

  My body spasmed around his, desperate for the motion that would get me where I wanted to be. My hips moved against his, trying to reach that one sweet spot. Finally, I could pull away enough to say, “Please, please, fuck me.”

  His eyes went wide, but it was the rest of his face that showed the surprised emotion.
He laughed, and it was a full, lovely sound.

  “I didn’t expect to hear that word come out of you,” he chuckled.

  I looked at him, my mouth parted and eyes wide, pleading.

  He leaned over and placed his mouth to my ear. “Is this how you want me to move?” he asked, as his hips found a smooth, steady rhythm.

  The feel of his breath in my ear sent shivers over my skin, and the feel of finally getting what I needed carried me far away from all the pain I had felt for so long.

  Boude left after several hours of being with me. The sky still looked the same as when we had gotten here, dull and dead.

  I needed to dig, to work off some of this damn time, but I hadn’t wanted him to leave. I didn’t seem to have “feelings” for Boude, but I felt less crazy when he was around. I had to focus on being a big girl when he left, and not begging to him to stay right with me so I didn’t fall apart.

  Out in the field, I dug mindlessly. I still didn’t mind the work, but when I was alive it was easier to focus, to feel like I was giving someone peace. Now, digging them up from the other side, I didn’t know if it was peace or heartache I was delivering.

  “I can’t believe you let a vampire stay with you.” Soren was standing over me, his shadow eclipsing mine.

  “He was kinder to me than you’ve been,” I said.

  “Vampires aren’t kind,” he snorted. “They want your blood, sex, or soul.”

  I wasn’t feeling friendly, and I didn’t like Soren being mean about one of the few people who had been nice to me.

  “Well, I’ll tell you, I had sex with him, and I think I got a lot more out of it than he did.”

  He scoffed, “I’m telling you, though, you better be careful,” Soren warned, and walked away.

  I rolled my eyes and watched him go. I looked down to see the frail little old man I had just dug up disappear in a flash. I blinked at the hole I had just dug, and filled it back in again.

  Truthfully, my mind was having difficulty deciding if sex with Boude had been a good idea or not. On one hand, it had provided much needed distraction and relaxation. It was the best I had felt since I died. On the other hand, it still felt kind of wrong to be sleeping with someone who wasn’t Raphael, like I should wait for him. A small part of me even felt like I didn’t deserve happiness, like death should just be sorrow and suffering.

 

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