The Girl With Crooked Fangs

by Amy Cross

  Suddenly Izzy took a step closer, until she was less than a meter from Violet. The scent of blood was already so much stronger, and she could hear the thick, rich fluid coursing through the girl's body. The song was so beautiful, she just wanted to free it from the meat prison that kept it hidden away.

  “I need to hear it better,” Izzy whispered, imagining herself tearing Violet apart and releasing the song.

  “What the actual hell do you want?” Violet barked suddenly, raising her eyebrows. “You're starting to piss me off now, bitch! Did you hear me mentioning a party, is that it? Sorry, Izzy, but no matter how lame the party might be, it's still too cool for a moron like you.”

  “I don't...” Feeling dazed, Izzy was barely able to focus on Violet's words. Instead, she was staring at the side of the girl's neck, listening to the sound of blood rushing through her jugular vein, and still hearing the melody that begged to emerge.

  “No,” Violet continued, turning away, “I don't know what the fuck's wrong with her. Listen, I really need to -”

  Suddenly Izzy reached out and placed a hand on Violet's shoulder. She hadn't intended to do that, but now all she could think about was the sensation of blood rumbling and throbbing beneath the girl's skin.

  “What,” Violet said cautiously, turning to her, “the actual -”

  Izzy began to open her mouth.

  “I'll take things from here,” Rita said suddenly, stepping up behind her and grabbing her hand, pulling her away from Violet.

  Shocked, Izzy took a step back, almost tripping over the edge of a crate.

  “What the hell are you freaks doing?” Violet asked, her face filled with disgust. “I guess I should've known that Major Freak One and Major Freak Two would be working together.”

  “Go to your party,” Rita told her, adjusting the rope over her shoulder while watching Izzy with a hint of caution. “Get drunk, throw up, cry til your make-up runs, and maybe if you're lucky you can end up with someone's cold, wet tongue shoved down your throat.” She paused, before clapping her hands together a couple of times. “Didn't you hear me? Get out of here, bitch, or I'll make you!”

  “Are you, like, threatening me?” Violet asked with arched eyebrows.

  “Yes!”

  Violet opened her mouth to reply, before turning and stomping away while complaining over the phone about “freaks” and “weirdos” following her.

  “Sorry to interrupt you there,” Rita said, turning to Izzy. “I saw you a moment ago in town, and something about the look in your eyes just didn't seem -”

  Before she could finish, Izzy turned to follow Violet again.

  “Easy there,” Rita continued, grabbing her arm to hold her back. “Do you wanna tell me what's going on? I'm wasting some very valuable mine-exploring time here, so I'd really like to know what you're up to. You look like someone who's crawled through a desert for five days and suddenly found a bacon-burger.”

  “I'm fine,” Izzy muttered, trying to pull free of her grip while still watching Violet's silhouette in the distance. “Just leave me alone.”

  “You're not fine,” Rita replied, stepping closer. “Have you been spiked or something? I was once -”

  “Leave me alone!” Izzy hissed, struggling a little harder to get free. “This is none of your business!”

  “What were you about to do to that little bitch, anyway?” Rita asked.

  “I need to hear the song!”

  “What song?”

  “Her blood song!”

  Rita frowned. “Her what?”

  Izzy turned to her, but after a moment her gaze shifted and she began to look at Rita's neck.

  “What?” Rita asked again. She waited for an answer, but after a few seconds she began to feel a little nervous. “Izzy, you're acting weird. Like, majorly weird. Like, weird and creepy and zoned-out. In a bad way.”

  Slowly, cautiously, Izzy reached out and placed a hand on Rita's shoulder, before sliding her fingers up onto the side of her neck.

  “That doesn't help with the weirdness thing,” Rita pointed out.

  “You have one too,” Izzy whispered, as if she was fascinated by the discovery. “Maybe everyone has one.”

  “Everyone has one what?”

  Her eyes filled with pure concentration, Izzy slowly leaned closer to Rita's neck, while her lips began to part slightly. Now that Violet was far enough away, the scent of her blood had begun to fade, and Izzy was picking up something new, something just as strong. She pressed her fingers against Rita's jugular and let out a faint gasp as she felt a pulse, as she felt blood throbbing through the vein. Every forced pump, every rush of blood, seemed so alive and so close, just millimeters beneath the skin, and she quickly forgot all about Rita as a person. All that mattered now was getting to the blood, and hearing her blood song.

  She could feel cotton strands of blood cells, too, slipping from the skin and brushing against her fingers. Calling to her.

  “So what's this about, huh?” Rita asked, sounding slightly nervous. “What's going on with you, what -”

  She paused, and for the first time a flicker of fear reached her eyes.

  “Izzy? What -”

  Before she could finish, Izzy bared two sharp, crooked little fangs and lunged at her throat, biting hard.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The blood rushed into her mouth. Most ran down the back of her throat, but some was forced up through tiny holes in the tips of her fangs, entering her body via a fuller, richer route that sent a shudder through her bones.

  And she felt a song, too, throbbing in her mind.

  But still she needed more.

  Tilting her head back, Izzy felt more blood trickling down her throat. A moment later she tilted her head forward again, trying to drive her fangs deeper into the flesh. At first she hadn't really known what she was doing, and she'd thought that just getting the blood into her body was enough. Now, however, she was starting to master the art of diverting almost all the blood through her fangs. With every taste, she felt her fangs becoming stronger, and soon there was almost no blood running down her throat at all.

  It was all coursing through her fangs, filling her body with its song. Every time she bit down hard, her fangs sucked more and more blood into their roots.

  “More,” she gasped, before letting out a slow moan of pleasure as she pressed her tender fangs deeper and deeper. She squeezed her eyes tight shut and focused on the shuddering, vibrating sensation of warm blood being drawn into her face and then spreading down into her body, running through passages and tubes that had hitherto lain dormant. It was almost as if, hidden between her normal veins and organs, there was a whole separate system that was only now coming to life, offering a kind of pleasure she never knew existed.

  And she needed more. Much more. All she could think about was draining her first victim, and then finding another. The rest of the world was irrelevant now. Only blood existed.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Darkness.

  Calm.

  A sense of fulfillment.

  Of everything being right again.

  Of someone else's blood wrapping around her own and giving it life.

  And strength.

  Drifting through thoughts of contentment, she felt stronger than ever before.

  She'd drunk from her victim, absorbed its life and its blood, killed it so that she might rise.

  And that, she felt as she wandered through the peaks and troughs of her silent dream, was how it should be. The strong should consume the weak.

  Just as the living should tower above the dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Opening her eyes, Izzy saw a patch of moonlight picking out cuts and scratches on the nearby wall. There were a few graffiti tags on the bricks, and a moment later she realized she could smell something sour and foul. As soon as she tried to sit up, however, she felt thick ropes running around her arms, keeping them firmly tied against her sides.

  “What the -”


  “Oh, you're awake now, are you? Welcome back to the land of the living, Buttface.”

  Turning, she saw Rita sitting on the ground nearby, examining the blade of a long, curved knife.

  “Where...” Izzy paused, feeling distinctly faint. She could somehow tell that time had passed, but she had no idea how much time. All she knew was that every joint in her body felt stiff. “What happened?”

  “How are you feeling?” Rita asked, setting the knife down. “Still all... jumpy?”

  Trying once again to sit up, Izzy found that the ropes were wrapped all the way down her body, keeping not only her arms tied tight but also her legs.

  “It's for your own protection,” Rita told her. “Well, and mine, too. I'm gonna take a wild stab in the dark and guess that maybe you don't remember much of the past...” She checked her watch. “Two hours, four minutes and about thirty seconds.”

  “What happened?” Izzy asked, rolling onto her side but still not managing to get up.

  “You mean after you tried to bite my neck? After you came within about half a millimeter of taking a chunk out of me?”

  “Why would I do that?” Izzy stammered breathlessly, trying not to panic. “Why have you tied me up? Let me go!”

  “You were totally feral,” Rita continued. “You were like a wild beast, I barely managed to get you under control. I might not have succeeded at all without those ropes, and let me tell you, I don't carry thick ropes around with me every night. I'm lucky you didn't...” She paused. “Well, whatever you were trying to do, I don't think it was gonna be very good for my health.” She leaned a little closer, but only a little. “Your eyes look better. More normal.”

  “I don't remember anything,” Izzy gasped, pulling harder and harder on the ropes. “Did you drug me?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Then what am I doing here?”

  “Do you remember following Violet down this alley?”

  “Following Violet?” Izzy paused. “No! Why would I do that?”

  “You seemed pretty keen on her,” Rita continued. “Then you turned your focus onto me. Both times, you were acting pretty strange.” She paused. “Even after I tied you up, you were struggling and spitting and cursing. You've got some salty language when you're stressed, did you know that? The f-word, the c-word, even some words I never heard before. I'd say I'm shocked, but I'm not, not really. I might even be impressed. Still, you wouldn't calm down, not until...”

  Her voice trailed off.

  “Not until what?” Izzy asked, trying but failing to sit up.

  “Well, it was pretty clear what you wanted,” Rita said cautiously. “Eventually I figured I might as well give it to you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Relax, I didn't give you mine.” Reaching down, she picked up something small and dark from the ground. When she held it up into the light, she revealed the corpse of a surprisingly large rat. “It's a good job we happened to be in such a foul part of town,” she continued. “These little bastards are so used to humans, they've lost most of their natural fear. Otherwise, I'm not sure I'd have had much luck as a rat-catcher.”

  “What are you doing with that thing?” Izzy asked, disgusted by the sight of the dead creature. “Put it down! It's probably diseased!”

  “It probably is. You should get yourself checked out.”

  “Put it down!”

  “There's a surprising amount of blood in one rat,” Rita muttered, admiring the corpse for a moment before setting it down again. “You can wipe that look off your face, dude. You might be grossed out right now, but an hour ago, when I cut the poor little thing's throat and let you sink your fangs into it, you were begging for more. You seemed like you were lost in your own private fantasy, you were all -”

  “No!” Izzy hissed. “That's a lie!”

  “You wanted blood,” Rita said firmly. “Any blood, as it turned out. You weren't picky.”

  “I did not drink blood from a rat!”

  “No, you drank blood from three rats.” She held up two more corpses, dangling them by their tails. “Drained them dry, actually. You had quite an appetite.”

  “Why are you lying to me?” Izzy asked, trying once again to get up. “Let me out of these ropes!”

  “I figured you might not believe me,” Rita muttered, pulling a phone from her pocket. “First time one of these dumb-phone things has actually been useful.” She tapped the screen, before turning the phone so that they could both see the video.

  Izzy stared in horror at the phone, as she saw herself tied and bound, sitting in a patch of moonlight while Rita held one of the dead rats above her mouth. A moment later, she saw blood dribbling from the rat, running between her own lips and into her throat. And she saw her own eyes, bright and yellow, the pupils impossibly large.

  “Seriously, dude?” she heard Rita's voice saying on the video, filled with a mix of fear and fascination. “Is this what you want?”

  “More,” she heard her own voice gasping, and she saw herself leaning up, trying to bite the rat. “I need more!”

  “Let's finish this one first,” Rita continued, her voice sounding a little tinny on the recording. “I've already got two more lined up for you.”

  Izzy watched as the rat was lowered into her mouth, and then she flinched as she saw herself biting down hard on the struggling rodent. The rat's squealing scream filled the phone's tinny speakers.

  “Stop it,” she whispered finally.

  “It gets better,” Rita replied. “In a minute, you actually start -”

  “Stop it right now!” she shouted. “Please!”

  Cutting the video, Rita tapped at the screen. “I deleted it. Don't worry, it won't show up online.”

  “No way,” Izzy gasped, feeling a rippling sense of nausea in her belly. “That's not me! It can't be me! You used special effects!”

  “After the second rat,” Rita explained, “you seemed a little more docile. More yourself. You still wanted more, though, so I figured it'd be better to satisfy you as much as possible. After rat number three, you got kinda tired and groggy, so I let you sleep. You were out for about forty-five minutes, and then I guess you remember the rest.” She offered a faint smile. “And for the record, I like rats. I only gave you those little critters because I couldn't think of anything else that might help you. I've gotta admit, for a while there you were kinda scary.”

  “You're lying,” Izzy stammered, with tears in her eyes. “That didn't happen!”

  “You saw the video.”

  “It was fake! You staged it!”

  “Why would I bother doing that?”

  “Because you want to mess with me! Because you want to make me feel like a freak!”

  “I don't understand it any more than you do,” Rita continued. “I've seen some weird-ass stuff in my life, but I've never seen someone begging for rat blood. At first I thought you'd been spiked, then I thought maybe you're some tiresome wannabe goth punk, but then...” She paused, eying Izzy with a hint of caution. “It took a while, but finally I kinda started to think you weren't faking. Like, the hunger in your eyes, and the way your body was trembling until the rat blood got into your system. Izzy, you're kinda -”

  Before she could finish, she watched as Izzy rolled onto her side and began retching, finally vomiting and bringing up a smattering of blood mixed with bile.

  “Nice,” Rita muttered.

  Izzy heaved again, coughing up a few more mouthfuls of pale liquid before spitting a couple of times and letting out a low, shuddering groan.

  “I guess most of it's been absorbed into your system by now,” Rita continued. “I've gotta admit, I was sick a little in my mouth too, while you were drinking the blood of the second rat.”

  “Let me out of these ropes,” Izzy stammered, her body shuddering with panic. “I have to get home. I don't know what's happening to me, but I have to go home.”

  “Izzy -”

  “Let me go!” she shouted. “I s
wear to God, if you don't let me go right now, I'll... I'll scream until someone hears!”

  “That's all well and good,” Rita said firmly, leaning closer while still keeping a safe distance, “but how do I know I can trust you? How do I know you won't go straight for my throat again?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Deep in one of the mine's tunnels, a hand moved through the darkness, finally reaching the wooden boards that had broken a day earlier under the weight of Izzy's right foot.

  Long, spindly fingers brushed against the jagged edges, before finding the spot where a splash of Izzy's blood had soaked into the wood. Just a splash, a barely visible stain, but the graying fingertips rubbed the splinters and slowly the blood was drawn out. Finally, the stain had transferred from the wood to the fingertips, at which point the hand retracted and rose through the darkness.

  A pair of gray lips parted, allowing a tongue to reach out and lick the blood away. Then there was a pause, before the tongue emerged again, sampling the blood as if it was searching for something stronger, something more powerful. As if, by tasting the blood, it could also identify the body from which it had spilled.

  Tilting its head back, the figure sniffed the air, detecting the faint edge of a blood-strain that had drifted all the way from town and finally reached the heart of the forest.

  “Isobel,” a frail voice whispered finally, filled with bitterness and anger.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “How are you feeling now?” Rita asked a half hour later, as she and Izzy wandered through the shadows, making their way along a residential street. “Still feel like you wanna hurl?”

  She waited for an answer, but Izzy still seemed very quiet. Ever since being untied, in fact, she'd barely said a word, instead simply staring straight ahead as she made her way home. Her hands were resting on her belly, too, as if she was waiting to feel something.

  “I'd wanna hurl,” Rita continued, as her various knives and pieces of metal jangled around her waist. “You know, if I'd half-eaten three rats. It's kinda gross. I was serious earlier, you should totally get yourself checked for, like, diseases and so on.”