by Dylan Keefer
Prudence's head snapped up. The next second, she had grabbed the woman by the hair. She yanked the woman backward through the little opening separating the two spaces, breaking the plastic divider.
The metal around the opening bent and the woman's bones cracked under pressure. When she tried to put a hand over her new victim's mouth, the woman bit her hand and hit Prudence in the stomach. Prudence sat down on the woman's torso, her knees exerting pressure on the woman's ribs. Prudence wrapped one hand around the woman's chin, while another one slid around the back of the woman's head. One sharp motion and the woman's neck snapped.
Prudence bent over, sinking her fangs into the woman's neck. She could feel herself draining the blood out of the corpse's body. The soft hush was soothing.
The pain faded, and all Prudence could feel was the warm feeling of a full stomach. If she focused just enough, she could feel her body fixing itself. Muscles were knitting back together, and blood was retreating into the now no longer burst veins and capillaries.
When the body under her was empty, Prudence smelled the air. There was still blood left in the other one. She got up and walked over, breaking the body into pieces to get to the slowly coagulating blood. She ripped the rib cage out and bent over, intoxicated by the smell.
A few minutes later, both bodies on the floor of the ambulance were completely drained. Prudence was sitting next to Mike, licking her fingers. Her light blue dress was soaked with blood, as were parts of the floor. She was trying to eat as much of it as possible.
After a few moments, Prudence heard a rumble outside. A lower sound than the wailing projected from the metal box she was in. Her hearing was enhanced by her feral state, she heard something slam and a heartbeat come within range.
CHAPTER THREE
Prudence walked over and pried open the ambulance’s back door. A young woman, quite short, with extremely short red hair and freckles, was standing in front of a similar contraption as the ambulance, only differently shaped and red.
“Phew, I found ya. When I saw the mausoleum door, I ran as fast I could. Good thing Joe hadn’t left after he hit ya.” She looked at the inside of the ambulance and smirked. “Have a good snack?”
The woman's heart was steady, and she didn't even flinch when Prudence growled at her from the shadows. It made Prudence want to stand back and observe instead of attack.
"I'm going to give ya something that belongs to ya. But try and make me a meal and you'll wake up with a massive headache." The woman removed what could have been a gun if Prudence squinted hard enough, from her shoulder. She put her hand in her pocket and tossed something out. It glinted in the sun and landed in front on Prudence.
Prudence knelt and snatched it out of the patch of sun. It was a necklace — a soft chain on which there was a pendant. The top of the tear-shaped pendant was rough and felt unfinished. She had a vague recollection of this being around her neck and the feeling of it on her skin. When she turned it around, she knew the initials P. D. would be there. They were a bit faded but still legible.
The fog lifted, and Prudence felt the familiar feeling of knitting needles boring into her head again.
She was crawling over the bloody floorboards again. But this time she could see around her. The house was small, and in shambles, the walls around her splattered in red. The man above her was graying and menacing, heavy-set, but unencumbered by it. Prudence saw herself rip off the necklace from her neck. And then her vision turned red.
The pain subsided, and Prudence fell from the ambulance to the ground. Breathing heavily, she rose.
“Who am I? Who are you?”
“The first question is too complicated to be answered here. Second question – I'm Charlotte, and ya were in my great great Aunt Prudence's grave. I got a letter telling me to keep an eye and take care of ya when ya wake up."
“Why?” Prudence tread lightly.
“How the hell should I know?” Charlotte shrugged. “The important thing, for now, is for me to help you hide those dead bodies.”
Prudence turned around. She opened her mouth in horror as the faces of her victims stared back at her. She could recall everything she did in visceral detail. Every sound, smell, and taste. Half of her wanted to throw up. The other was sated and content.
Prudence realized she could still smell the blood on her hands. She started wiping them on her dress. Tears rolled down her face. Her mind focused on the victims’ terrified expressions. She took their lives, she tore through their bodies and relished it.
Before she could realize it, she had sat down on the ground, hugging her knees. The screams tumbling down from her throat were ones of an animal in pain.
Charlotte approached her. “What’s gotten into ya?”
Prudence looked up. Charlotte’s expression was horrifyingly calm. “What has gotten into me?” Prudence pointed at the ambulance. “I did that! I took another person’s life!”
Charlotte blinked several times. “The letter said ya’ve been hit with a bout of amnesia, but you seriously don’t know why you did that?”
Prudence got up, walking over to Charlotte. She towered over the small redhead. “Why did I do it? Tell me!”
Charlotte took a deep breath. "I guess we're doing this here after all. One of ya parents is or was a vampire. Ya know what a vampire is, right?"
Prudence stepped back.
“Ya not only spent several centuries stuck in a stone box, occasionally moved, with no food or water, ya got hit by a car going 50 miles per hour. The guy that hit ya, Joe, said ya flew out of some bushes, and most of your body was mangled. It’s obvious ya were probably on the brink of death. Instincts happen.”
“That’s all you have to say?” Prudence yelled. She looked at the road, at the trees around her. The vision of the hanged woman floated back into her mind. “I shouldn’t be alive.”
Now it was Charlotte’s turn to yell. Her high-pitched girly voice carried a surprising amount of weight. “No, ya don’t. Ya’re going to get into that truck before the sun makes ya get blisters and I’ll clean this up. How could ya have stopped if ya didn’t even know what you were? And don’t even try and sneak out, I have good aim.”
"You really think that will hurt me?" Prudence eyed the gun.
"Ya're still half human, and these darts can put down an elephant." Charlotte pointed at the truck behind her. "Go, now."
CHAPTER FOUR
Prudence didn't believe Charlotte, but the idea of hurting anyone else made her sick. When she thought of running, she realized she had no idea what would kill her. Or how long before she flew into a haze like that again.
Prudence skulked over to what Charlotte called a truck. Charlotte opened the door for her. She then reached under Prudence's seat and pulled out a metal container.
"Here, it seems ya have a little way to go with healing still. Don't worry; this is a pig. I got it from the butcher's shop."
Charlotte unscrewed the lid, and the smell reached Prudence’s nostrils. She recoiled. It definitely smelled different from the blood she had before.
Her stomach growled.
“I don’t want it.” Prudence could still taste her two victims in her mouth. She wanted nothing more than her taste buds to stop working.
"Look, this is better than accidentally killing more people right? We know how ya get when you’re hungry."
Prudence picked up the container and drank from it. It tasted delicious, which is exactly what she didn’t want. It didn’t compare to human blood, and that was what made her even more scared. What if I attack others? How can I stop myself? Thoughts like that were swirling in her head. She looked down at the thermos. At least with this, I didn't hurt anyone. The pig was already dead. And the taste wasn't that different if she squinted really hard.
When Prudence was finished, she finally spoke. “What else do you know?” She felt her voice break.
“After we get away from the murder scene.” Charlotte wagged her finger. “Let me finish cleaning up first.”
Charlotte didn’t stop talking for all the time it took her to methodically clean everything and set the scene up to look like an accident. “We had fancy things in 2015. Ya drained them, but there is still hair, stuff under their nails, and even fingerprints. Ya touch something, we know ya touched it. But if we do this accident well enough, none of that will matter. Boy, ya did a number on this dude.”
Most were incredibly detailed information about what she was doing and why. And some were comments which made Prudence uncomfortable. She didn't pay attention to most of it since it flew over her head. But she did learn they were in a small town in a place called Maine. The ambulance was set to catch on fire and dropped off the cliff, with the two bodies set inside. When that was done, both women sat in the truck and drove off.
“So, we can talk now.” Charlotte was the first who broke the silence.
Prudence wanted to ask a hundred questions at once. “What do you know about me?”
“Well, I went off to study a few years ago, to get my degree — yes, women do that now, then I get back, and my family is dead. Only me and my cousin left. I get a letter in the will, saying that I need to keep an eye on a half vampire, half human put to sleep in the mausoleum by some dude. To hide ya. All I know is that my ancestors needed something very important. Otherwise, they wouldn't have made the deal. Also, it means people might try and kill ya." Charlotte drove at high speed, never looking away from the road.
“I was hidden?”
“Yeah, I don’t understand it. Either a few centuries in a coffin somehow made ya stronger, or we’re damn lucky vampires aren’t out and about.”
“So you know nothing about me? My name?”
“Nope.”
Prudence knitted her eyebrows. Charlotte was like a strange assault to her senses. She dressed crazily and talked loudly. Prudence understood maybe a little over half of what she said. She did things Prudence expected of no woman, seemingly without fear.
“I suppose the world has changed a lot since the 1600s.”
"Ya have no idea. Hazy summary: we colonized this continent and killed a bunch of natives and have been real jerks to them since, then we got pissed at England and fought in a revolutionary war and became the United States, then we went crazy again, split in two, fought each other, then merged back, stopped the whole slave thing, then the world went crazy twice more, and a bunch of people died, then slowly we started getting a bit saner and gave people other than white men the right to vote. Now we're advanced but still crazy. I think that sums it up." Charlotte lit a cigarette.
Prudence wrinkled her nose at the smoke. “Those are bad for you.”
"Duh," Charlotte smirked.
A few moments of silence later, after Charlotte had finished her cigarette, she spoke again, "By the way, for ease, ya can keep using Prudence as your name; until we find yours that is. I'll tell people ya're my cousin for now."
“Alright.” Prudence nodded.
Charlotte took a hard right and stopped at a large house. “This is it. Let’s go.”
Prudence didn't realize how much her surroundings changed until she got out of the truck. They were on a largely smooth and gray street, larger than Prudence had ever imagined a street could be. All the buildings around her were the same color. Spacious, white-walled stores or houses. Prudence felt small.
"Over here lady!" Charlotte snapped her out of her thoughts. She covered Prudence with a blanket she removed from the truck, along with all her other things. Prudence remembered the crusty blood on her clothes.
CHAPTER FIVE
Prudence was shocked at how she could recognize the house's style. It has obviously been heavily rebuilt, but it was clear they kept as much of the original as they could. The outside was painted white, with a dark roof, a tall metal fence around a medium sized yard with a bench under an apple tree in it.
When they came inside, Prudence saw a long hallway with stairs leading up to the second floor, her now bare feet comfortable on the plush red carpet. Charlotte led her through a side entryway. That area was divided into two parts, both with cream walls. One had a balcony and very large windows taking up the largest wall. Every piece of strange furniture was light. Apart from a large black rectangle above the fireplace.
"Living room, where we sit around." She then swiveled Prudence around and led her to the other side of the room. "Kitchen, where we eat. Aka, stuff ya're not using until ya know how. Food's in those cupboards, and here. Fridge keeps it cold. There's blood in there too." She opened a large green cupboard Prudence noted was called a fridge. She didn't try and touch anything. She could learn about them when Charlotte wasn't running around and could help.
“I have to go to work now, but you won’t be alone.” Charlotte walked back to the stairs and screamed. “Milo, get your ass down here now! Letter business!”
After several loud thumps and a few hushed "I'm coming," a tall, scrawny man came down the stairs. He had messy brown hair, a square jaw and small blue eyes hidden behind large eyeglasses with very thin frames. When he saw Prudence, he quickly wiped his hands off his long gray sweater, smoothed out his hair and offered a handshake. "Oh, you're awake. Milo Davenport, nice to meet you."
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ya’re on babysitting duty. Lose her, ya die.” Charlotte interrupted them.
“Yes, ma’am.” Milo did a salute.
“Don’t be a snarky jerk.” Charlotte punched Milo in the arm and left. As the door closed, Milo turned to Prudence, extending the handshake again.
Prudence was frozen. Milo's face didn't look right. She found herself mentally adding some gray in his hair. Then a resigned exasperation with the world to his expression. Finally, she turned his eyes brown. She noticed his expression changed from politeness to confusion and to nervousness.
She shook her head. “That was odd.” She tried to explain herself.
“Um, what was?” Milo dropped his hand and put it in his sweater pocket.
“I think… you look like someone I knew. But I can’t remember who.” Prudence turned around, found a chair and sat down.
“Oh, well I hope it was no one that you dislike. Maybe it’ll come back to you later.” Milo smiled.
“I hope so too. With my luck, it’ll be just like all the other memories I’ve gotten today. Painful and violent.”
Milo rocked on his feet, and he was looking at the floor. Prudence could tell he was nervous, so she made an attempt to smile. He noticed and returned the favor.
“Do you need anything? Like, a change of clothes?” Milo offered, gesturing toward Prudence.
Prudence looked down. The blood on her blue dress made her sick. She nodded, trying to keep calm.
Milo scratched his head. “How about I show you where you’ll be staying? The darkest room, only one on the bottom floor.”
“That would be nice.” Prudence smiled. Milo seemed to be comfortable with her, but not comfortable with the fact he had been taken away from whatever he was doing on the second floor.
Prudence noticed his hands were calloused, but they didn't seem like calluses created from working with metal or wood. They were mainly on the middle finger, forefinger, and thumb. Prudence imagined what would make them be like that. She concluded Milo must spend most of his time writing.
"I guess being gone for a few centuries is a recipe for confusion huh? Don't worry you'll figure it out, and we'll help." Milo showed her the way and opened the door for her. Prudence was surprised that the gesture was familiar.
“Thanks." Prudence was in a room with dark blue walls and a fluffy green carpet. There was a bed with light blue sheets and a dark frame with a headboard, a desk, some chairs and bedside tables the same color as the bed frame.
Milo walked in and opened the only white door in the room. “This is the bathroom. Where we clean ourselves and, em…” Milo suddenly looked uncomfortable. He put one of his hands in his pant pockets and looked away. “It also serves as an outhouse.”
Prudence raised her eyebrows a
nd went in after him. She was curious.
“Toilet, where you, um…” Milo trailed off again.
“Oh, I know that word.” Prudence was quick to ease Milo’s discomfort.
Milo smiled. “Okay, press here and water flushes out the remains.” He flushed the toilet. “It refills back again on its own. This is the trash bin, for trash, we empty it ourselves.”
He turned and pulled back a strange curtain. "This is a bathtub, for cleaning. This is for hot water, this is for cold ; you turn them, and it comes out of here. If you need help, you can call me."
He turned again, this time to a small porcelain bowl sticking out of the wall, over which was a mirrored cabinet. "This is a sink, like a tiny version of the tub, used for face and hands. We shower every day now and brush our teeth with… something I need to get for you, hold on." He walked out.
Prudence looked at herself in the mirror. Her skin was tan and smooth. Her long face showed a sign of freshness she cringed at. She felt tired. Her eyes were large and brown, slightly upturned at the ends. Her hair was brown and long, up to her knees, and a bit dry at the ends. Her body felt limber, and her muscles didn't hurt. She also felt sated.
She wanted to feel terrible. She felt she deserved to. No one should have been able to gain this much through the death of others, and yet here she was, healthy as she could be, with two murders in her past. Closing her eyes, she could see them in her mind. Their eyes were full of fear.
When Milo came back, Prudence wiped away her tears.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking around as if expecting to see a tangible reason in the bathroom.
Prudence sniffed. “Nothing, just, overwhelmed, I guess.” She didn’t want to dump her problems on him.
Milo looked at her like he didn't believe her. But instead of saying anything he gave Prudence a few small items. A small orange brush, a tube, what looked like a flat rough stick, and a pair of shears.
