For Stephanie the hunger she felt was for human
companionship. She could not bring herself to call her mother. There were no good friends she could think of to talk to about this.
She stepped out of her apartment into the hallway in her light blue tank top, flared bottom jeans and thong sandals, her toenails painted a midnight blue- typical casual wear for her. She needed to clear her head.
A wavy haired blonde woman was walking toward her in the hall, her head down, contemplative. Perhaps she had lost someone in the attack as well. Although Stephanie did not know her well, barely at all, their paths had crossed several times. She appeared to be friendly enough.
“Gwendolyn?” Stephanie said, unsure.
The woman looked up. She was twenty-something, probably late twenties, attractive; her uncertain smile belying her beauty.
“Um, hi,” she said, startled. “Stephanie?”
“Right, Stephanie, but you can call me Steph.”
She nodded. “And please, call me Gwen. Only my dad calls me Gwendolyn anymore.”
“Fair enough. Were you... ah... headed out somewhere?”
Gwen shook her head. “You know, I’m not quite sure where I was headed. Just kinda wandering I guess.”
Stephanie understood. “Well, if you want, I was going to go outside, take advantage of the nice weather, if you’d like to join me.”
Gwen appeared momentarily shocked at the prospect. No stranger ever asked her along to anything. So used to her circle of polite society, where everyone met through someone else, and had ties to some big company or someone famous, she was pleasantly surprised, and said,
“Yes, that would be nice.”
Stephanie noticed how reserved she was. Not particularly uppity, as Sarah might have put it, but certainly poised and delicate in her mannerisms. She followed Stephanie to the elevators. They rode quietly until they were in the lobby, pushing through the revolving doors, and stepping out onto the sidewalk into the bright sun.
“I love your hair,” Gwen told her, “The way it comes up at the tips like that. It’s really cute.”
“Thanks,” Stephanie smiled. “I like yours too.”
“So where are we going?” Gwendolyn asked.
“Nowhere. Just... going.” Stephanie said.
Gwen nodded. “You lost someone too, didn’t you? In the attack?”
She was not exactly surprised, as the same thought had crossed her mind moments ago, but she was startled at Gwen’s openness about it. Stephanie realized she only needed someone to talk to as well.
“Yes,” she said. “I lost my best friend Lindsay, and probably Sarah as well.”
Although there was confusion on her face over the last comment, Gwendolyn chose not to pursue it.
“What were those things anyway?” Gwen asked instead.
“Vampires,” Stephanie answered quickly.
“Vam...?”
“Who did you lose?” Stephanie interrupted, not wanting to think of Sarah.
Gwen looked down, following her shadow as they walked. “I lost my fiancé Russell. We were going to be married next week.”
“Oh my God Gwen, I’m so sorry.”
Gwen nodded. “Thanks, me too. He was one of the good ones you know. I’d finally found Mr. Right, that elusive guy everyone talks about, and poof, there goes that dream, you know? Just like that. I watched him be thrown through the air, and then a group of those monsters... vampires pounced on him. I never saw him again.”
Stephanie put an arm around her, holding her to her side consolingly. Gwendolyn didn’t precisely cry, so much as sniffle, making small choking sounds deep down in her throat, as if she thought it embarrassing to break down in front of a person she’d just met. Yet she accepted the small embrace graciously, and with appreciation, leaning her head on Stephanie’s shoulder.
When she broke contact, Gwendolyn quickly shifted gears in the conversation, as if to admit what happened was to admit a moment of weakness, which up until today was simply not acceptable. Just over the
last few weeks her worldview had radically begun to
change.
“How old are you Stephanie.. I mean, Steph?” Gwen asked.
“I’m twenty-five. You?”
“Twenty-seven, although I’m feeling quite a bit older these days.”
“No kidding,” Stephanie said.
“Would you like to stop by my place tonight, have a few drinks?” Gwen said, surprised to hear herself say it. “I could use the company.” She was even more troubled to realize that awaiting the answer was much worse. She would have actually been crushed if Stephanie had refused.
“Of course,” Stephanie said, “That would be lovely,” she said, mildly mocking what Sarah might have called her highfalutin’ voice.
Gwen laughed rather than get offended. “Oh dear, do I really sound like that?”
Stephanie shrugged, and nodded, pinching her thumb and forefinger close together. “Just a little. I think you sound charming.”
Gwen cracked a smile. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been called that.”
“Well, get used to it. I’m full of compliments.”
Gwendolyn looked at her with a kind of awe. “You are just... adorable.”
Stephanie giggled. “That I’ve been called before.”
After an hour or so of walking and window-shopping, they headed back to their respective luxury condo apartments. They realized they lived only five doors away from one another. An exchange of numbers and a promise to meet up later that night for drinks, they each lounged about their dwellings, Gwendolyn sitting on her sofa with a cup of tea watching the news, Stephanie lying down cross-legged on the sofa curled up with a book, a classical station playing softly in the background. When she was done reading, she would switch to the soft rock station. For the moment she felt a sort of peace wash over her, and she wasn’t sure how long it would last. It was hard enough losing her best friend Lindsay. Then Sarah was taken just when she was feeling better. Gwen was nice and she feared getting too close, as she did not want to lose her too.
She pushed those thoughts away. Everything would be okay, someday. She wouldn’t be sad forever. There was hope as long as good people were left in the world. She stopped telling herself platitudes, and settled into her book- a romance novel, and let the calm take over. Stephanie fell into a light sleep. Her book lay open on her breast, her
hands still clutching the pages.
The sun was setting outside the window, casting a warm orange cozy glow into the living room when she woke.
“Whoa, must’ve dozed off.” She put the bookmark back into her novel where she left off, got up and strolled toward the kitchen. She made herself a pot of coffee. While that was brewing, she went back to the living room and switched to the soft rock station on her stereo system as she’d originally intended. Stephanie wandered over to the fridge looking for something simple and light to eat. She chose an apple, biting into it while she hummed along.
Outside somewhere, in a cemetery crypt, a girl named Sarah also awoke, hungrier than ever. It wasn’t quite safe yet to venture out. The sun was not low enough, and she intuitively knew this. It was almost as if her biological clock had automatically readjusted itself to keeping nighttime hours. She would need to feed and soon. The hunger was becoming overwhelming, and she knew no normal food could sate it; only blood. She craved it. As soon as it was feasible to exit the crypt she did so, the sun gone down over the horizon, leaving only traces of purple, red and gold, the automated street lights above the darkling sky throwing her into shadow.
Her hunger drove her animal impulses and she scrabbled about the dirt and grass of the cemetery on all fours, fingers digging into dirt, running like a dog, bounding like a rabbit, her hair swirling wildly around her, teeth bared and snarling.
An inner voice cried, No, Sarah, no. Resist it. However, the voice was small; the hunger was deafening. Tonig
ht Sarah was the huntress, and she was on the prowl.
After waking up to fresh coffee and lounging a bit with the radio, Stephanie decided to switch and turn on the TV.
There was some sort of press conference going on. It wasn’t live because it was still daylight during the broadcast and it was taking place here in Mercy Falls, on the local news station. Sipping on her coffee she said, “Oh shit!” nearly spilling it. It was the mayor. She had forgotten all about him. He had somehow miraculously returned. But she’d seen him pulled under the stage. There was no way he’d survived unscathed, given the recent revelations. Yet, he was talking to the press, in daylight. So he wasn’t a vampire, and he wasn’t dead. But he was lying through his
teeth. She knew what she’d seen.
“Why?” Stephanie said, eyeing the screen suspiciously. “What did they do to you Mayor Tremont? What did they do?”
More importantly, why was he back?
The diners were out and about, waiting in lines outside to be seated in restaurants. Sarah watched with envy from across the street behind a hedge of bushes.
Even with her all consuming hunger she knew it was too public. She had to look for a side street, catch someone walking away. She lucked out when she found a couple walking down a desolate street a few blocks behind the restaurants. They were thirty-somethings, well dressed, headed from somewhere or to somewhere fancy. They walked hand in hand.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Sarah said from behind them.
The couple turned, startled.
“Oh my God,” the woman said, “Are you okay?”
Sarah realized she must be caked with dirt, having crawled through the cemetery, having risen from the ground when she became, her hair scraggly from having slept on a concrete floor, her eyes wild with hunger. They probably didn’t mistake her for a homeless person, because she was young and attractive like the couple she intended to feed on. They must have mistaken her for a victim of something.
“Are you hurt?” the man said.
“No,” she said, grabbing him by the head with a speed she didn’t know she had, “but you will be.”
She buried her teeth in his neck. The blood squirted
in an arc. The girlfriend or wife screamed. Still clutching his head, mouth buried in his neck, savoring the warm gushing nectar, she grabbed the woman with her free hand by the waist, dragging the woman toward her.
Dropping the man, who fell sideways, knees bent, his legs buckling under him, she took the woman’s head in both her hands.
“Shut up,” Sarah said. The woman’s eyes opened the second before she knew what was coming. Sarah twisted her head, snapping her neck. She couldn’t very well have the bitch drawing attention to them.
She went down in a crouch to the prone man and continued to drink from him. She felt his lifeblood and his life force flow into her. It was amazing. Intense. A minute later, she heard the clacking of shoes running on the sidewalk toward her. She looked up and caught a glimpse of shadowy figures headed in her direction.
“Crap!” She ran, only partially satiated. She would have to seek shelter for now; somewhere to hide. Then she could finish eating.
It was after eight p.m. Stephanie was still watching TV when the phone rang.
“Hello?” she said.
It was Gwendolyn on the other line. “Hey Steph, what time are you coming over? This bottle is not going to finish itself.”
Stephanie chuckled. “I’ll be right there. Give me five minutes.”
“I’ll be counting.”
“Bye.”
She still wore the same clothes, minus the sandals. She put those on and switched off the television.
Scaling the walls of Westchester Towers was far easier than she imagined. She was fairly sure she could fly, although she hadn’t tried that yet. Sarah was aware she could leap what had to be at least a hundred feet in one bound on all fours. She was still getting accustomed to her new abilities.
She searched for a window with not just a light on,
but one she could look in, where she could see someone, and soon she found it.
Stephanie knocked on Gwen’s door but no one was answering. She had tried several times, and even attempted calling her name. There was no loud noise, no booming music or loud TV where she might not be able to hear her. It could be she was in the bathroom. She doubted that for some reason. She just knew something was wrong. Stephanie turned the knob and found that the door was open, perhaps in expectation of her arrival. She quietly stepped in.
“Gwen?” she called, “Are you here?”
The pretty, young blonde sitting in her bed reading was Gwendolyn, Sarah remembered with a grin. Oh, Princess Gwendolyn; her beautiful milky skin must taste divine.
She rapped her knuckles on the window. Gwen looked up from her book, dropping it, frightened.
“Gwen?” Stephanie stepped into the entryway leading into Gwen’s living room. She looked left and right. Everything was too quiet. Too still.
She stepped into the kitchen, the family room, walked down a hall to a set of doors. One was open partway and she could hear what sounded like whispering.
“Gwen?” Stephanie whispered in return. She
pushed the door in and stepped through. Gwendolyn sat on the edge of the bed. Directly in front of her, some fifteen feet away the vampire Sarah was lifting and stepping through an open window, coming over the threshold at a crouch. Gwen stared at her as if star struck.
“Gwen?” Stephanie called, “Oh my God.”
Sarah turned to her. “Stephanie, how nice of you to join us.”
“Get out,” Stephanie said.
“How rude! Gwendolyn invited me in, didn’t you Gwen?”
Gwen stared blankly at her.
“And she’s so happy to see me, can’t you tell?”
Stephanie could see blood on Sarah’s lips and teeth. “Since when did you become a comedian? Since you started eating people?”
“You have no idea how great this feels,” Sarah exclaimed, “You should let me turn you!”
“You’re not Sarah,” Stephanie shook her head. “You’re not my friend. You’re something else now.”
“Stephy, that hurts,” Sarah pouted. “Of course I’m Sarah silly. Who else would I be?”
“A monster,” Stephanie replied. “And you’re not taking Gwen.”
“Oh, I wasn’t planning on taking her anywhere. I was going to leave her right here to drip dry. Now move along and let me eat if you won’t let me turn you.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Stephanie said.
“Well, who’s going to stop me? You?”
“I could scream my lungs out right now and this party won’t be so private anymore. Seeing as how jittery you are right now. I don’t think you could face off a mob of people wanting your blood.”
Sarah hissed. “You drive a hard bargain. There’s plenty of other people on which to feed. I’ll catch you...” she pointed to Gwen, “...later.” She retreated backwards out the window.
Stephanie whispered to herself. “She could’ve taken us quickly, maybe not before I could scream, but certainly before anyone got here.” She did not comprehend the hasty retreat.
Gwen gazed out the window from where she sat on the side of the bed. What was it, Stephanie thought. Right before she exited, she had seen a bit of the old Sarah flash through her eyes. Perhaps a part of her was still fighting it, but she’d already given in, at least once.
I’m so sorry Sarah. I’m so sorry for what you must be going through.
“Gwen!” she shouted. “Gwen! Snap out of it, she’s gone!”
It took several seconds before Gwendolyn did, before she even acknowledged Stephanie’s presence. She looked at her blankly as if awoken from a sleep, which in a sense she had.
“Was that... was that your friend Sarah?”
“Yes,” Stephanie said. “She’s one of them now. You’ve got to un-invite her right now.”
“Will that work?”
“I don’t know, but we’ve got to try. She may come back. We’ve got to be ready in case she does. We need to make some stakes, get some holy water, crucifixes.”
“Where are we supposed to get all that?” Gwen asked.
“Un-invite her first, and we’ll figure that out,” Stephanie said.
She did, unaware that Sarah only needed permission from the condos owner to entire any of the facilities should she choose to return.
“Sarah, you are no longer welcome here.”
“Good, now let’s get cracking. I think we’ll both need drinks after this one.”
“Shit!” Sarah said, now hiding behind some bushes several blocks from the towers, looking up at the lit windows, “I’m still hungry.” She bounded off in search of more prey. She could have taken both of them.
But Stephanie’s your friend.
No, she had no friends. Not anymore. Holding on to her humanity was difficult, and she didn’t want to hurt Stephanie, but giving in to her animal nature was so much easier, and much less painful. If only she could get rid of the hunger.
Charles Tremont sat at his desk in his well-lit office, the shutters on his blinds open, signing paperwork; working late as usual. A mayor’s work was never done, especially one who had the prodigious chore of elevating the town’s vampire population. This made him possibly the only (mostly) human being who could not be shocked by a sharp-toothed vampire outside his window, open-mouthed, growling, and dribbling blood and saliva from her gaping maw.
Sarah was startled to see it was the mayor. These were his headquarters in town, but she hadn’t expected him to be in at this hour, and certainly not at work at his desk. She knew he’d survived the attack somehow, but not exactly sure how. She didn’t think he had been turned because she’d seen him in daylight.
The Depths of the Hollow (Mercy Falls Mythos Book 2) Page 3
