《The Bloody Brick Road (Complete)》
Rochester, England – December 1707
¡°Elly,¡± said her father as he caressed her tearful cheek. ¡°Please understand. I¡¯ve lost everything. This deal had to be made. Your brothers, your sisters¡ªthey depend on this, on you. Don¡¯t be afraid, my child. Just look at the bright side of things. She promised to treasure you. So, don¡¯t be afraid. Just remember that we¡¯ll always lo-¡±
Elly writhed in silence within her prison cell. Blood-stained gouges scarred the dilapidated stone walls and floor. A sliver of moonlight spilled into the room through the small gated window, illuminating her emaciated form. Her body convulsed with every pang of hunger. Oh, she starved! Her face, neck, arms, hands, chest, stomach, groin, legs, and feet groaned and ached. Her mouth stretched open, fangs gnawing at the air in hopes of inhaling the nourishment that simply was not there.
She shrieked, and the room shuddered. Dust and debris scattered all around as she thrashed, rending earth and stone with her claws. Every strike tore the muscles and sinew in her hands, briefly revealing bones underneath before her flesh regenerated. The more she flailed, the deeper the pit inside her grew. Oh, how she yearned to fill that void¡ªand the Beast agreed.
Beast¡ªthe name of the blood that that woman injected into her; a parasite with a voice and presence, taking the form of an amorphous shadow that loomed at the back of her mind, sending torrents of unintelligible whispers, yet somehow, she knew its intent¡ªthrive together, or the Beast takes over.
¡°Welcome to the family, my darling,¡± the woman spoke to her. She was tall, beautiful, with ghastly features and eyes that seemed to bore through her soul yet carried a softness that eased Elly¡¯s trembling. ¡°You remind me so much of her,¡± she continued. ¡°You even have her name.¡±
The Beast gnawed at her mind, but outside of her constant agony, she felt its fear, its anger, its loneliness, its desperation to live. Or was it hers? Something about those feelings felt primeval¡ªyet familiar. If she were stripped of all civility and dignity in order to cling to life for a second longer, would this be what she would feel? The hunger overwhelmed her reason; no longer could she distinguish the ownership of the feelings inside her.
Every wail that escaped her parched lips also burst from the Beast¡¯s maw. Its presence encroached upon her, threatening to overpower her will. It tore into her thoughts, eating away at all the morsels that comprised her humanity: happiness, sadness, loneliness, love, hate, anger, pride. It hissed at their insignificance¡ªunneeded morsels, all as nourishing as air yet the Beast devoured them, leaving behind only husks of words that she understood but struggled to relate.
¡°You are perfect just the way you are, my child,¡± said the woman. ¡°It is a grave sin to let you wither you away like the rose you love so much. Time is a prison that dooms the ill-fated. However, you are not like them, so I will gift you eternity.¡±
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Elly felt the hollowness consume her. She shrunk into herself, almost disappearing into the oblivion, but the Beast held her in its arms. It wrapped her in a blanket of reassurance that no matter what, she will be¡ªthey will be alright. She needed nothing else but its comfort.
Strange, how even in this hellish isolation, she never felt truly alone. The Beast was always there. When she rended at her prison, the Beast kissed her wounds. When she lost her senses, the Beast lent its own. When she began to lose hope, the Beast screamed for her. Live, it whispered between the waves of voracity that quaked inside her. Live. Feed. Live. Feed. Feed. Feed.
Yes. She needed to feed above all else. Blood¡ªthe nectar that kept the blanket warm around her. A blanket woven by the crimson pool inside the decanter of flesh that she once was. Oh, how she would gorge. The Beast approved.
Her flesh, organs, and bones amalgamated with the foreign blood spreading within, violently consuming and changing everything it touched, transforming her into a simulacrum that perfectly resembled her once human self. It nestled inside her head. She screamed throughout the entire ordeal, leaving her drained in the aftermath¡ªnot exhausted, but famished.
¡°A beast I am, lest a beast I become.¡± She heard the woman recite to her. ¡°Face the Beast, my child, and be reborn as mine own.¡±
The door opened. Elly scampered away into the cover of darkness. Threat. Hide. Safety.
A woman¡ªthat woman¡ªthe one who turned her. Her Sire. One like herself. But she locked her here to starve. Why? Why? Why?! Elly hissed.
The woman tossed someone inside¡ªa man, someone familiar, but the part of her that might have remembered was gone. He slumped on the floor, barely breathing. Lacerations covered his body. Rivulets of blood trickled from his wounds, pooling into the gouges on the floor. Its scent snared her heightened senses; succulent, nourishing, intoxicating, her being trembled longingly. Oh, how the Beast hungered. Blood. Blood, BLOOD!
The wounded man cowered beneath the moonlight, eyes darting at every phantom movement in the darkness until his gaze met Elly¡¯s own.
Elly winced. Who was he?¡ªThe Beast snarled. Live. Feed. Yes.
The man¡¯s eyes softened.
¡°Elly,¡± he whimpered, choking back his tears as he held out his hands towards her. ¡°Oh, my beautiful child. My dearest, it¡¯s your fa¡ª¡±
Elly leaped forward, fangs bared. Blood is blood.
Nottingham, England – February 1837
Everything she ever wanted was but a hex away from her grasp, even this prison called time. Her newest husband, a handsome widower who was a bit too docile and unbearably simple-minded, brought with him fortunes and estate greater than those who came before him¡ªnot that she was ever dissatisfied with the ones she¡¯s had until now.
Seducing him was a trivial feat; she used enough charms and hexes to render him nothing more than a marionette that danced around her fingertips. The only burden that came with her windfall was the spawn from his previous engagement. She never did like the girl. From the moment she laid eyes on her, a sense of resentment and envy boiled from within the pits of her being.
Sixteen winters of age, the girl exuded beauty, charm, elegance, and innocence, traits every parent wished upon their daughters, all embodied by a child that one could mistake for a human doll. Yet the girl was also cursed with some peculiar maladies that made her seem fragile; the light of day would mar her flesh in the most grievous way, enough that the estate was constructed to accommodate her aversion. She also had quite the unusual appetite or lack thereof. During their meals, the girl¡¯s plate was always bare¡ªyet she was never malnourished.
Her husband never spoke of his daughter¡¯s peculiarities. He dotes on her so, like one worships an angel. Atrocious. That little bitch was even blessed by a name that enamored all of her acquaintances¡ªElly.
¡°Mirror, mirror?¡± the woman asked the standing mirror by her bed. Her reflection looked back at her¡ªa gorgeous stepmother unfazed by the wrinkles of age, whose statuesque feature was nurtured by endless hex and care. ¡°Who is the fairest eternal, in the land?¡±
Her image dissolved, replaced by that of Elly reading a book in her windowless room, because that¡¯s all the bitch ever did during the day hours if she were not sleeping.
What? The mirror chose this girl, over she who earned the right of fairest by devouring those fair before her? Fair? This girl¡¯s fair surpassed her own? Deplorable.
Had that bitch not existed, she would have fancied staying married to her handsome dolt until he withered from age. Alas, she reached the limits of her jealousy after only three long winters. It was time to move on from this play of house. She needed to be rid of her husband and his spawn.
A hex to cause an unfortunate accident, leaving her a widow, was just the remedy for her woes. His fortune would become hers, or so she thought.
His will imparted that privilege to his pitiful daughter¡ªthat pitiful daughter who wept at his funeral, who her acquaintances showered with pity and affection, who still looked as lovely and unchanged as the day of their first encounter. All would be Elly¡¯s until her death reunites father and child. This sheltered child, unable to experience life beneath the sun, trapped in the cage that is their estate¡ªthis living doll, claimed all that was hers! Such blasphemy would not stand.
What a chore having to wait three weeks after her twelfth¡ªor was it her sixteenth?¡ªfather¡¯s death, for her mourning stepmother to finally enact her scheme, bless her heart.
The trek to the woods felt more exhilarating than her usual nightly strolls¡ªbeing blindfolded and shoved around by an armed huntsman probably helped. Elly couldn¡¯t help but smile at the recent turn of events. What did she do that caused her lovely stepmother to murder not once, but twice in the span of one season?
¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough,¡± said the huntsman as he grabbed her shoulder and turned her around to face him.
Elly slowly opened her eyes as he removed her blindfold. They stopped at a clearing surrounded by an audience of malformed trees. The huntsman¡¯s lantern illuminated the grove, though even without the light she could see just as well as any denizen of the dark. She knew exactly where she was. Her eyes flicked towards the huntsman setting down the lantern.
He stared at her like a ravenous predator. The twitch in his hands, the lick of his tongue, and the beat of his heart told her what kind of face he hoped for. Best not disappoint.
She gripped her dress, tightened her shoulders, and bent her knees together as she looked up at him with worry. ¡°Why did you take me here?¡± she asked with trembling lips, her voice stammering with each word.
The huntsman arched his head back and pursed his lips in a smile as if breathing in her fear. ¡°The lady filled my coin pouch to see you gutted,¡± he said. ¡°She wants me to take back your lungs and liver, for God knows what.¡±
Elly covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. How exciting! Where should she take this next? The fellow seemed rather addle-tongued to keep a dialogue with. More answers would be nice, though Elly suspected much already. ¡°Why? Why would she do such a thing?¡± she asked.
¡°Girl, I don¡¯t know nor care for the why,¡± he answered. ¡°She paid a right bounty on the deed so, here we are.¡± He set down his ax and knife and began to unfasten his breeches. ¡°It¡¯s a shame for a sweet lass such as yourself, who had never bed with a man, to be slain before getting that experience. But since I¡¯m such a gentleman, I¡¯ll do you the honors before the deed needs done.¡±
Elly crumpled to her knees and covered her face with her hands. ¡°Spare me, please! I¡¯ll run away into the forest, and never return again,¡± she said.
¡°Oh, give me more of that. Your voice kindles the fire within me.¡± Wisps of clouds billowed from his breath as he discarded the last of his clothing and approached her.
Elly trembled as she sobbed, though no tears fell.
¡°Don¡¯t be scared, girl. I¡¯ll send you off the right wa¡ª¡±
A large wolf leaped from the shadows and clamped its maw around his throat. The huntsman didn¡¯t have time to flail as his neck snapped from the wolf¡¯s thrashing.
Elly parted her fingers to peek and saw the wolf tear through the huntsman¡¯s flesh right in front of her. She stood and then took a step back, sighing. Droplets of blood splattered over her face as the wolf gorged on its prey. Her fear-stricken visage melted into that of annoyance as she wiped her face with the huntsman¡¯s shirt.
¡°How unpleasant,¡± she said. ¡°This is why your kind keeps to the woods. You¡¯ve no sense of grace.¡± She stared at the wolf¡¯s feast. Oh, what a waste. Her friend wolf could have at least waited until she killed him herself and finished feeding on his blood. ¡°Now what will become of my meal?¡± Truly, these beasts needed lessons in civility. Perhaps she¡¯d make a hound out of them in the future.
The wolf busied itself as Elly picked up the huntsman¡¯s affects. What should she do, now that she has been ousted from the estate? Her poor, wicked stepmother would be heartbroken to find not her lungs nor liver delivered in the morning. She pondered until the wolf finished its meal. It stared at her briefly, licking its lips, before leaving. Elly smiled and waved her goodbye. Ah, that gave her an idea. Elly skipped along, following a trail that led to a cottage smelling of gingerbread that had a high chance of having a spare child¡¯s lung and liver or two that she could barter for.
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At last, the bitch would trouble her no more. The stepmother cackled as she glanced at the jars containing the lungs and liver she received at her doorstep a few days ago. They would make for exquisite components to prolong her youthful appearance. Eternal beauty was only fit for someone of her stature, not some sun-cursed albino.
¡°Mirror, mirror?¡± she asked the standing mirror that loomed at her side. ¡°Now tell me, who is the fairest, eternal, in the land?¡±
Her reflection rippled, eventually being replaced by the image of Elly, draped in her usual red dress, chest rising and falling, laying down on a bed inside a cabin room lit only by candlelight.
The stepmother nearly choked on her own surprise as she scampered towards the mirror to look closer. Surely, she was mistaken. No. Perhaps the mirror was mistaken. No. The mirror was truth, such was how it was formed. The bitch was alive. The bitch deceived her. That, she would not stand. Her face contorted in maleficence.
Elly sighed as she stared blankly at the dining room ceiling. She never expected that living with seven dwarven men could be so dreadfully boring¡ªwell, living with four now, actually. Three met their unfortunate end, one-by-one, at the fangs of their wolven neighbors while they were out at night gathering berries with frail little Elly. What were the odds that three of them met their demise in the exact same manner, in the exact same circumstance, within the span of three weeks? The remaining dwarves buried their suspicion and worries under the rubble they often dug up, after some honeyed words of encouragement from her, of course. The paternal instincts of good men looking after a cherished child, never got old. But all of this waiting became boresome. When will another stranger¡ªthough they were all her stepmother in disguise¡ªvisit her and attempt at her life? Despite whatever glamor her stepmother witched herself to become, the tell-tale twitch of her eye, that careful half-step she was prone to have, that slight inflection of her voice at every plea, that scratch behind her ear whenever she became irritated, all of that woman''s usual quirks were plain to see.
The first time, a middle-aged traveling seamstress offered the most exquisite, silky, laced bodice. The woman laced her up so tightly that she would have fainted and died from asphyxiation. Of course, that was what the woman wanted, so Elly happily obliged and put on the act. All the practiced breathing that she kept up over the years helped make her act all the more believable.
The second time, a venerable woman dressed as a farmer came by and offered an apple of the most crimson kind. That woman schemed the most magnificent reason as to why Elly should eat a slice. Elly resisted the urge to applaud her stepmother¡¯s performance. Oh, a witch her stepmother was, but beneath the charms and hexes, she was still as human as the rest¡ªand humans, Elly knew too well.
Nonetheless, she humored her stepmother¡¯s efforts because something succulent roused Elly''s craving for the apple, something other food could never do. Blood. Resourceful stepmother began to suspect her true nature. Clever girl. Elly ate the apple and almost squealed at its deliciousness, half-noticing the poison that shared space with the blood within the fruit¡ªpoison that would have rendered her innards asunder if she still had any that worked as humans should. But she was a master at dying a thousand ways, and the death that reflected on that elderly guise was the one Elly showed.
The old woman had inspected her like any other would inspect a human¡¯s death¡ªno breathing, no heartbeat. She inspected again, and again until she was satisfied before leaving.
No doubt her stepmother would have seeked the praise of that mirror of hers shortly afterwards. Alas, she would have been disappointed once more of the results.
Now Elly waited once more. The third time was the charm, as some hopefuls would proclaim.
The door opened slowly. Elly glanced behind her. Her wrathful stepmother¡¯s shadow encroached upon her, guided by the searing light from behind.
¡°I should drag you outside and watch you burn under the sun¡¯s blaze, monster,¡± said her stepmother. No glamor veiled her true visage now. Those beautiful, sharp features sculpted by decades of witchcraft was something that Elly admired ever since the first time they met.
¡°I can only ask for your mercy.¡± Elly stood up to face her, arms held up in surrender. Her lips trembled, but she still offered a soft smile towards her. ¡°No matter what you did, I still love you, just as I loved my father.¡±
¡°Can you even love?¡± her stepmother asked. ¡°The other coven spoke of creatures like you. Beasts in the masquerade of man. Your depravity surpasses my own. Beauty is wasted on something so evil. I will not stand for it.¡±
Elly flashed a warm smile, and her stepmother recoiled.
Crackling magic of purple and black sprang forth from her stepmother¡¯s hands, striking Elly and knocking her back against the far wall. An eerie heaviness caused her to slump on the floor as if struck by sudden slumber. She struggled to force her eyes open, still looking towards her witch of a stepmother.
¡°I don¡¯t think I have strength to force you outside,¡± said her stepmother, ¡°but I¡¯ve finally crafted a hex powerful enough to encase your kind in a tomb which you will never wake from.¡±
The dark energies that coiled around Elly began to coalesce into a translucent crystal, slowly expanding until it formed a coffin around her body.
This wasn¡¯t good, at all. Definitely not the outcome she expected. The Beast was moments away from frenzy, but it was her turn to embrace and whisper words of quiet. Everything will be okay. Her mind settled, her eyes closed, and she smiled once more.
She did it. She finally won against that bitch. Hah! She admired her work from the doorway. The vampire was trapped inside that cocoon of a hex that could only be broken by true love. It took some time in creating it; she had to ask favors from covens outside her own. Now all that was left was to bury her somewhere where no one would ever find her.
Noise drew her senses towards the distance. Damnation! The dwarves have returned. She only brought enough hex to deal with that bitch. She¡¯ll have to finish her work that night when they slumber. She closed the door and fled, back to her estate.
Oh yes, she would finish this tonight, and in the morning, she was to meet with a charming young Duke visiting from Brighton.
Elly watched her wicked stepmother dragged by the soldiers of her darling rescuer. She heard her shrieks and wails as she thrashed about like a madwoman.
¡°It should be you! You¡¯re the monster! You deserve death! I deserve life!¡± Her stepmother rampaged, but the soldiers held firm.
¡°Take the witch and imprison her. She will be burned at my wedding to my beloved,¡± said Elly¡¯s prince charming.
Elly reproduced the smile that won his heart and earned her freedom.
¡°I¡¯d feel safer if you personally see to her imprisonment,¡± she said.
¡°Oh, of course,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll do so. Anything to ease your worry. Stay here, my love, and wait for my return.¡± He followed the men as they departed from the estate.
Elly watched from the window of her stepmother¡¯s room. The carriage left for the closest town, leaving her alone once more in the manor that gave her so much joy and entertainment over the years she lived as a daughter to a widower, and stepchild to a witch.
Humans like them never gave her a dull moment¡ªhumans of character. She opened the window and closed her eyes. Memories bloomed from the breeze offered by the moonlight; all the precious moments, she would treasure forever.
Her eyes slowly opened as she consumed every image of her vain, clever, hopeful, resourceful, vengeful, pitiful, wicked stepmother in her mind. Such a lovely character she was. How would she act again? Ah, yes. Elly¡¯s eyes twitched just like hers would whenever she thought of a scheme, make that half-step whenever doubt crept in her mind, hum with that inflection in her voice, scratch her ear as she did before telling a lie, and smile in that haughty way like a child prying off that last loaf of bread from their younger sibling¡¯s clutches right before eating it in front of them.
Her eyes flicked across the room.
Ah. That oh, so cherished mirror stood by the bed, as if waiting to serve. She walked towards it, almost floating the way its previous owner would whenever in her most jubilant moment¡ªas Elly was now.
¡°Mirror, mirror,¡± she said. ¡°Would you kindly tell me? Who is the fairest, for all eternal?¡±
The mirror trembled at Elly¡¯s gaze. It creaked and moaned, as if crying, as its surface buckled and cracked into a thousand pieces, yet still somehow held itself together.
Elly¡¯s eyes widened as she stared at the thousand that looked back at her, each sporting a different reflection of herself in their eyes, and each one reflected further, of the girl that was the whole¡ªthose countless that laughed, cried, hated, loved, lived, and died. They all stared back at her from the darkness, the cradle shared by her Beast where, little-by-little, they filled up her eternity. Not an ounce of loneliness, or isolation, fit in that space¡ªonly endless consumption. She admired the truth so eloquently displayed. Her grin spanned from ear to ear.
¡°Lovely.¡±
Nottingham, England – August 1845
Elly smiled in admiration at the progress her dear friend showed over the years. Becoming proficient in English was no simple task for those not exposed to it at a young age, but fortunately, she found him at the early stages of his adolescence. He was very receptive to the idea of learning her language and, fortunately for him, she wanted to try her hand at being a governess. Unfortunately, the environment of her employment was not quite ideal¡ªthe forest that was his household had no books, and her student, her dear friend, was a wolf lacking in civility and elegance. But he desperately wanted to be human. Lovely thing.
Entertaining the idea of a wolf learning a language seemed preposterous, but Elly felt a kinship with him from the moment of their first encounter. His amber eyes reflected the envy he had of her. How could a beast like her be so human? he must have thought.
So, the pact was made and she became his teacher, but the simple mind of a wolf would not have made for a good student. He needed a stimulant, or catalyst of sorts. Then an idea struck her. He could devour the flesh of man and in doing so, perhaps acquire the faculties needed to become one. It worked for her kind, maybe it would be the same for him?
It took ten years to get to this point, but Elly was proud to admit that her friend wolf knew enough about language that he could hold his own in discourse with any esteemed speaker¡ªif only he had the lips to speak his mind. A wolf was still a wolf, no matter how much human flesh it consumed.
Elly saw the disappointment in his eyes that night. Although he could not speak a word, she understood him. His expressions became more subtle and complex: a pout here, a snarl there. It was a remarkable achievement, yet she still saw that envy in his eyes. Poor fellow. What else could she do for him? Another idea struck her, and she smiled sweetly.
¡°Friend wolf,¡± she said. ¡°I think I know what you lack to complete your transformation.¡±
The wolf¡¯s ears perked.
¡°I was on my way to grandma,¡± she continued. ¡°She¡¯s a sweet, old witch who likes little boys and girls. Her being is made of hex and man. Perhaps if you eat her and don her clothes, you¡¯ll finally change.¡±
The wolf stared at her for a while, before sulking back to the ground. Her friend wolf was skeptical still, even his eagerness to devour the men she laid before him started to dwindle as if he started feeling regret and remorse for his actions. She didn¡¯t blame him. Her friend wolf had come a long way since learning her language. He started to understand how humans thought, and now he desperately wanted to become like them¡ªin flesh.
¡°Sometimes,¡± she said, ¡°it takes sacrifice to progress. The history of man has proven that, time and time again. If you¡¯ve found your resolve, seek the house that smells of gingerbread. Reach for that which you desire.¡±
Elly stood at the door of the witch¡¯s cottage, the fresh smell of her trademark lure still lingering in the air. She didn¡¯t hear her cackles or prancing inside. The fresh paw prints of her friend wolf were still embedded on the soft ground. Elly smiled. "Ah, I wonder what has become of friend wolf." She opened the door and stepped inside.
Blood, rags, and bones littered the floor¡ªspread over the table, the chair, the walls, and the cauldron simmering with the cooked innards of missing children. Oh, how the witch must have struggled. The scent of blood painted the picture clearly, and her gaze drifted to the witch¡¯s bed.
Her friend sat there, a malformed figure of a wolf, fitted into the tattered remains of a hemp dress, who looked as if he had just gorged on poison. His once proud dark fur looked mottled and withered, with patches completely missing, revealing blighted flesh underneath. His eyes lacked their golden luster. Buckled maw, blunted teeth, and a bulbous head replaced the sharp features of a once noble predator. Her friend wolf wheezed and coughed as if trying to regurgitate. He looked across to her, his body quivering.
Elly¡¯s mouth hung open as she stared into those eyes that pleaded with her.
Oh, her poor, unfortunate friend.
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Failure. He looked nothing like the humans that she adored. How could it have turned out this way? He looked like an abomination. Things were going so well. What could she do?
Ah. An idea struck her. Her dear friend just needed some encouragement. He needed to look at the bright side of things. Be positive. Looks were not everything¡ªa lesson her dear stepmother should have learned. Now it was Elly¡¯s time to be her friend¡¯s mirror.
Elly approached him, smiling coyly, hands clasped behind her back.
¡°Oh, granny, how hairy you are,¡± she said.
The trembling wolf looked at her and wheezed. What?
¡°Oh, granny,¡± she continued. ¡°What long nails you have.¡±
Disbelief reflected in his eyes. How could she think so?
The wolf looked down at his misshapen paws. They looked nothing like hands.
¡°Oh, granny, what big ears you have.¡±
The wolf attempted to grimace. Elly taught him sarcasm and mockery. Did he think she was mocking him?
Oh, no. Her dear friend was mistaken, she was only trying to ease his worries.
¡°Oh, granny, what big nostrils you have.¡± Elly stifled a giggle.
Stop. Stop! Why are you doing this? You were supposed to help me become human, he thought.
¡°Oh, granny, what big eyes you have.¡±
The wolf¡¯s glare bore into her, seething with embarrassment and anger. ¡®I hate you! You deceived me! I shouldn¡¯t have listened to you. I¡¯m not human¡¯. He tried to speak, but his usual growling and whining were all that came out. Nothing has changed. A wolf was still a wolf. His wheezing hastened.
Oh, what do we have here? Something inside her friend wolf was different as well. That quality that she thought he lacked seemed on the verge of blooming. Elly was almost certain that all her friend wolf needed now was just a little more push. Perhaps she could turn this tragedy into a comedy. She failed to hide her grin.
¡°Oh, granny, what a big mouth you have¡ª¡±
The wolf roared and pounced at her, his claws digging into her shoulders, and let out a vehement howl that shook the room and shattered the windows. He poured all of the rage, humiliation, anguish, and despair that he could not shout in the language of man, into that terrible wail¡ªand Elly felt it in full.
She raised her hands and gently grasped the wolf¡¯s forearms, ending his howling.
He looked down at her, the gold luster returning in his eyes. His tears flowed freely, trickling down on Elly¡¯s cheeks.
She smiled with pride¡ªat him.
¡°You did it,¡± she said. ¡°Though you may not resemble them, you show all the other qualities that make you undeniably human.¡±
His rage subsided. Was she speaking truth? Would he trust her now? Yes, maybe she¡¯s right. He certainly felt more human, in his mind. His visage was unmistakably not, but perhaps that didn¡¯t matter after all. He whined at her, licking the tears that fell on her cheek to show his affection and forgiveness.
¡°But,¡± she continued, her face somber. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry it had to end this way.¡±
The door burst open and a wizened dwarf marched towards them, swinging a weathered axe. It sank deep into the wolf¡¯s neck, sending him staggering. The wolf, already in a weakened state, crumpled to the floor and emitted a pleading yelp.
The dwarf¡¯s dark gaze showed no remorse as he brought his axe down once more.
The wolf¡¯s head rolled to the side, his eyes staring at Elly as she gathered herself.
¡°That was for my brothers, you fucking monster!¡± The dwarf spat on the ground, the axe trembling in his hands.
As the light faded from the wolf¡¯s eyes, he managed to move his maw, as if still trying to speak out. No, she made me do it. She killed them. She¡¯s the monster. She¡¯s the liar. I¡¯m human, he tried to confess. But all that came out was gurgling.
The dwarf dropped his axe and embraced her.
¡°It¡¯s alright now,¡± said the dwarf as he sobbed on her shoulder. ¡°The beast is slain. I¡¯ve avenged them, just like you said I would.¡±
¡°Yes, you can rest now.¡± Elly closed her eyes and returned his embrace.
The wolf stopped moving his maw but continued to stare at them in silence.
Ah, what a tragic day, to lose a dear friend this way. She sank her fangs deep into the dwarf¡¯s exposed neck and opened her eyes to stare at the wolf¡¯s own, watching as their luster faded.
Beast, the wolf thought before he died.
How cruel of him to have thought that. No beast would be as charitable, as compassionate, and as cruel as she. Her friend wolf was wrong. There were no beasts in the cottage that night¡ªfor in the arms of a dying, vengeful dwarf, watched by a dead wolf, surrounded by the remnants of a cannibalistic witch, within a house that smelled of fresh gingerbread, Elly couldn¡¯t have felt more human.
London, England – July 1938
¡°So, what happened with Red Riding Hood after that?¡± Elizabeth asked as she and the other girls gathered around Elly in the garden.
¡°Well,¡± Elly said. ¡°She went off on a new adventure.¡±
¡°What kind of adventure?¡± a girl asked.
¡°Whatever she happened to pass by,¡± Elly answered. ¡°I believe the next tale was with a certain French gentleman sporting a blue beard.¡±
A collective gasp echoed across the group of young girls.
¡°I¡¯ve never heard of Red Riding Hood told this way before,¡± said one girl.
¡°It¡¯s certainly not by the Grimm¡¯s,¡± said another.
¡°I think I like Elly¡¯s story better,¡± said Elizabeth as she sat by the tiny campfire across from Elly. ¡°It seemed like it could have actually happened.¡±
The other girls nodded in agreement.
¡°But enough of fairy tales,¡± Elizabeth continued. ¡°It¡¯s already getting too late and we¡¯ve only little time left until we¡¯re off for bed. I think we should talk about other things.¡±
¡°What did you have in mind, Lilibet?¡± Elly said.
¡°We¡¯ll each take turns asking questions, and the other has to answer.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t we do that anyways?¡± asked another girl.
The others giggled in unison.
¡°So, who wants to start?¡± asked a girl.
¡°I¡¯ll do the honors,¡± said Elizabeth, turning towards Elly. ¡°Do you have anyone that fancies you?¡±
Elly blinked. Her mouth hung open as she faltered to reply in her usual timely and graceful manner. Instead, she stared blankly at the girls waiting with bated breath.
She let out a sigh and shrugged. ¡°At this moment, I suppose I do.¡±
The girls squealed. Elizabeth waved her hand, shushing at them.
¡°Who is it?¡± Elizabeth asked. ¡°Is he someone we might know?¡±
¡°It¡¯s probably Benjamin,¡± replied one of the girls. ¡°He¡¯s been giving her fanciful looks lately.¡±
Elly giggled but shook her head. ¡°No, not him.¡±
¡°What about Richard?¡± Elizabeth asked.
¡°No, he¡¯s not someone from here,¡± Elly said. ¡°The boy is from Germany.¡±
¡°A German?¡± asked a girl.
¡°What¡¯s his name?¡± asked another.
Elly paused for a moment, looking up at the starry sky. Revealing his identity to them felt a bit embarrassing. She chuckled to herself before turning her attention back to her dear friends. ¡°Herr Wolf.¡± The name rolled off her tongue like filth from the laundry.
The girls looked at each other in confusion.
¡°Wolf? Like the one in your tale?!¡± asked the youngest of the bunch.
Elly clutched her sides and let out a hearty laugh. So wrong, yet so hilariously right.
¡°He does somewhat resemble the wolf,¡± Elly said. ¡°But yes, he has a German name, being from Germany and all.¡±
¡°Do you fancy him?¡± Elizabeth asked who was now sitting next to Elly.
Elly stared at her and made a half-hearted smile. ¡°Not particularly. I don¡¯t dislike him, yet.¡±
¡°He troubles you?¡± Elizabeth asked.
Elly shook her head. ¡°No.¡±
¡°What¡¯s wrong then?¡± Elizabeth asked.
¡°Mmm, I think I left too big of an impression on him,¡± Elly said. Thinking back on her first encounter with him all those years ago in the opera where Wagner performed Lohengrin, she never could have predicted meeting such a peculiar fellow that almost made her want him as her kindred. What a mistake that would have been.
¡°Leaving a big impression on someone isn¡¯t such a bad thing,¡± Elizabeth said.
¡°What sort of impression were they?¡± asked a girl.
Elly stood up and meandered around the group, watching as all eyes glued to her every move. She smiled and spoke lyrically, ¡°Herr Wolf loved my fair. O happy fair! He said my eyes were like blue skies, and my tongue¡¯s sweet air more tunable than lark to a shepherd¡¯s ear. He said ¡®were the world mine, Germany being bated, the rest I¡¯d give to you translated.¡±
¡°Is that Shakespeare?¡± Elizabeth asked.
¡°Helena said that,¡± said one of the other girl. ¡°I saw that play once, at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre with my mother.¡±
¡°Oh, I¡¯ve always wanted to go see Shakespeare,¡± said another.
¡°I heard it¡¯s only proper for a lady to know a bit of Shakespeare,¡± said another. ¡°I¡¯ve only read a bit of the play but I always wanted to see it in the theatre.¡±
¡°Perhaps we can all go see a play for our next outing,¡± said Elizabeth, now following Elly around. The other girls stood and paced around the campfire.
¡°What¡¯s your favorite theatre that you¡¯ve been to?¡± one of the girls asked.
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¡°I liked the Duke of York¡¯s Theatre,¡± said one. ¡°It¡¯s got such lavish seating.¡±
¡°The Palace Theatre is nice as well,¡± said another.
¡°Which theatre do you like the most, Elly?¡± Elizabeth asked, walking closer to her friend.
Elly tapped her chin in thought before giving her reply. ¡°It¡¯s hard to pick a favorite. I¡¯ve been to them all and they all have their own charm. But I think I¡¯ll enjoy the theatre that Herr Wolf is building.¡±
The girls gasped.
Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow. ¡°He¡¯s building a theatre? In Germany?¡±
¡°How big will it be?¡± asked another girl.
Elly spun around and spread her arms open. ¡°It¡¯ll span the entirety of Europe.¡±
The girls laughed, including Elly and Elizabeth.
¡°Stop being silly, no theatre can be that massive,¡± said a girl.
¡°Oh, I trust him to be thorough,¡± Elly said. ¡°That¡¯s partly why I¡¯m here in London, so I¡¯ll be able to see the entire stage.¡±
¡°What¡¯s the other part of you being here then?¡± Elizabeth asked. ¡°Aside for being a dear friend of mine.¡±
Elly smiled with her usual coyness. ¡°Well, partly because your most gracious and generous mother and father wanted the best and loveliest tutor to teach you French.¡±
¡°Merci,¡± Elizabeth said as she curtsied.
Elly curtsied as well, then her smile faded. ¡°And partly to escape Herr Wolf¡¯s advances.¡±
¡°Why?¡± Elizabeth asked. ¡°He sounds like a gentleman.¡±
¡°He¡¯s driven by obsession,¡± Elly said. ¡°And his obsession is misplaced.¡±
¡°So you came here to distance yourself from him?¡± Elizabeth asked.
¡°Yes,¡± Elly said. ¡°But I¡¯m afraid he¡¯ll come for me soon and take me, despite my wishes.¡±
¡°Well, that¡¯s not very gentleman-like,¡± said one girl while the others nodded.
Elizabeth held Elly¡¯s hands and looked at her friend with conviction. ¡°Well, you are in no safer company than mine. I won¡¯t let someone like him cause you any grief. This I promise you.¡±
Elly smiled proudly and embraced her. Oh, so adorable this girl. She was far from the mistake that was Herr Wolf.
¡°Thank you,¡± Elly said.
¡°We¡¯ll also do our best to keep you safe,¡± said another of the girls. ¡°It is our pledge as members of the First Buckingham Palace Company.¡± The girls cheered.
Elly giggled and gripped Elizabeth¡¯s hand gently. ¡°I couldn¡¯t have asked for better company, and it¡¯s all thanks to the grace and good fortune of our leader and future monarch, Elizabeth.¡±
Elizabeth blushed at her friend¡¯s remark. The other girls clapped for them.
¡°I¡¯m not doing this just because of my status, Elly,¡± Elizabeth said. ¡°It¡¯s because you¡¯ve been a good friend to me. I know you¡¯d do the same for me.¡±
¡°Of course I would,¡± said Elly. She released her grip and placed her hand over her chest as she bowed before Elizabeth. ¡°I declare before you all that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service and the service of your great imperial family to which we all belong.¡±
The girls applauded and soon were joined by the servants standing by at the summerhouse.
¡°Elly,¡± Elizabeth said, looking awed at her declaration.
¡°May I have a dance with you?¡± Elly asked. ¡°As a small token of my thanks for your comfort.¡±
¡°Um, well, I suppose,¡± said Elizabeth. ¡°But I¡¯m still not good at dancing.¡±
¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± said Elly. ¡°I¡¯ll lead this once. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll pick it up quickly.¡±
Elly held Elizabeth¡¯s hands once more before turning to face the other girls.
¡°Girls, may you sing for our fairest friend?¡± Elly asked.
The girls smiled and nodded. They collected themselves and hummed together before releasing their angelic voices in a choir fit for the two exalted beings before them.
God save our gracious Queen
Long live our noble Queen
God save our Queen
Elly led Elizabeth in a mesmerizing waltz, turning rhythmically around and around as they danced around the campfire. She saw Elizabeth¡¯s eyes transfixed to her own as if she were looking at an idol.
Send her victorious
Happy and glorious
Elly leaned close and whispered softly into Elizabeth¡¯s ear. ¡°Can you promise me one thing, Lilibet?¡±
¡°What is it?¡± Elizabeth asked.
¡°Promise me that you¡¯ll live a long life, and that you¡¯ll keep being such an adorable girl?¡±
Elizabeth giggled at her friend¡¯s request. ¡°What a silly thing to ask. You think I¡¯ll still be adorable when I¡¯m all old and grey?¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Elly answered. ¡°You¡¯d still be the adorable little girl that I¡¯ve come to know and love, even when your curls live in perpetual winter.¡±
¡°And I¡¯ll bet yours will still be as bright as a field of wheat beneath perpetual summer?¡± Elizabeth asked, and they both giggled.
Long to reign over us
God save the Queen
¡°While I can¡¯t promise that I¡¯d get to live a long life,¡± said Elizabeth as she continued following her friend¡¯s expert lead. ¡°I¡¯ll try my best to make it happen. I suppose it¡¯s better to live a long one than a short one.¡± They giggled once more.
¡°I can relate to that,¡± said Elly.
O Lord our God arise
Scatter her enemies
And make them fall
Elly noticed Elizabeth¡¯s eyes closed as she continued their waltz. Her face was one of bliss as if dreaming of some prince charming.
¡°What are you imagining right now?¡± Elly asked.
¡°That we¡¯re dancing in the palace, and everyone is gathered to watch us,¡± Elizabeth answered as she opened her eyes. ¡°You should try it. Imagine.¡±
Elly chuckled and slowly closed her eyes.
Confound their politics
Frustrate their knavish tricks
She imagined herself at the theatre, the soft grass underneath her feet becoming a scorched, barren earth. Scattered bodies of men in tattered uniforms span into the horizon beneath a crimson sky. She danced around the bodies, leading her waltz through rivulets of blood that trickled between as she followed the explosions that peppered the land and sky like drums and cymbals of an orchestra.
The marionette that was her dance partner moved at Elly¡¯s every whim, seeming to enjoy being swept off its feet. The waltz continued on, and on, an endless rise and fall. Soon, a bright light pierces the blotted sky, enveloping the dancers in its glow. The battered landscape shifted into a field of flowers as Elly opened her eyes.
Ah, the future will be so bright up ahead.
On Thee our
hopes we fix
God save us all
Washington D.C., Senator Baldwin’s Office – 7:12 p.m., November 2016
The lamprey writhed as the diver struggled to pull it away from his neck¡ªhis triumph cut short by the flick of a T.V. remote.
Senator Baldwin looked across his desk at the young girl garbed in a crimson Victorian dress. She looked no older than his thirteen-year-old granddaughter, but protocol demanded a professional discourse.
¡°What may I refer to you as, miss?¡± Baldwin asked.
¡°Elly,¡± the girl replied.
¡°Alright, Elly.¡± Baldwin leaned back and tapped his finger over the manila envelope between them. ¡°Have your masters read through all of the terms outlined in these documents?¡±
¡°Yes. All the documents have been read. Multiple times.¡±
¡°And what¡¯s their response?¡± The only response he expected was their unconditional compliance. It didn¡¯t matter if the United States government dealt with allied nations, displaced refugees, or these blood-sucking things from fiction; as long as they wished to live on U.S. soil, Baldwin and the others in his party held all the cards.
Vampires. The very thought still annoyed him. Months ago, if one of his staff had told him that vampires were real and wanted to come out of hiding, to live openly among the people, he would have fired them on the spot for being retarded. But here he was, looking at a living, factual vampire. Christ. Well, whether they were living or not was yet to be medically verified.
¡°We graciously accept the terms set by the United States government,¡± said Elly. The girl didn¡¯t speak like someone her age should, despite looking as one. ¡°The conditions outlined in the documents are within acceptable parameters, therefore you have our compliance.¡±
Baldwin snorted. It was like listening to his granddaughter recite an essay from memory¡ªenthusiastic and rehearsed, all to impress. But it was obvious that this vampire girl was only repeating what she¡¯s been told. Perhaps that was her role, a pawn pretty enough for the media to fawn over, while her superiors remained hidden, lurking in their holes somewhere. Pathetic, but relatable. If he were a vampire, he wouldn¡¯t dare reveal himself to the public until he knew without a doubt that he had the public¡¯s full support and approval.
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If. He licked his lips at the word. Fifty-seven, but his body felt twenty years older¡ªall thanks to that damn prostate cancer. Treatments, chemotherapy, agony¡ªthe coming years looked abysmal. But this was his golden ticket¡ªhis miracle drug. Hidden within their blood laid the secrets to curing him, and evolving humanity into beings closer to gods.
Immortality. Imagine that. Governing the nation for all eternity. What were the trade-offs? Allergy to daylight? Subsisting on human blood? He could live with that. The others in his position probably felt the same way. Once science and medicine decode the myth, they would be at the front of the line towards human evolution.
Baldwin shook off his thoughts, finally noticing that the girl had been staring at him, unblinking, lips twisted in a courteous smile. In those eyes, the color of a vast clear sky, he saw his reflection¡ªthat of a young boy, a time that he had all but forgotten. Strange. Somehow, she reminded him of a happier time in his youth under the care of a young home tutor. Why couldn¡¯t he remember her face?
¡°Senator?¡± Elly asked.
Baldwin blinked, snapping back from another reverie. Christ. What the hell were all these daydreams? It must be because of this late meeting at the office. The deal was all but done anyway. Time to finish this formality.
¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°As long as you keep to your agreement and do your job, we will mutually benefit.¡±
Elly nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to play my role as the goodwill ambassador perfectly, Senator Baldwin.¡±
Baldwin chuckled. That remained to be seen, but he was hopeful. The lingering fantasy of living forever still prevailed in his thoughts. Maybe he¡¯ll watch those ridiculous vampire films. Millennials can¡¯t seem to get enough of them¡ªsomething about vampires having allure and sex appeal. Laughable, but could it all be true?
¡°Not to get ahead of myself here, but, how does it all work?¡± Baldwin asked. ¡°Living as a vampire, I mean. What should I expect when I become like one of you?¡±
From the other side of the desk, Elly leaned closer to him, a smile spreading on her lips, ¡°What kind of vampire would you want to be?¡±
New York, Presbyterian Hospital – 9:35 p.m., April 2017
¡°One blood bag, please.¡± Elly gave a toothy grin.
Tabitha looked at the I.D. and glanced over at Elly from behind the receptionist counter. Four months ago, Tabitha would have laughed off anyone that gave her a passport card with a ridiculous date of birth. December 25, 1707. Yep. Ain¡¯t no way that the girl looked over three hundred years old, but the I.D. was legit, and she¡¯d seen the girl all over the news media these past few months¡ªnot to mention this wasn¡¯t the first time the girl came over to get a blood bag specially ordered by the government, but it still felt surreal. Every time. Oh, Lord.
¡°Are you really a vampire?¡± Tabitha asked.
Elly chuckled as she took back her card. ¡°Tabitha, this is the third time this week that you asked me that. Of course I am. What else would I need blood bags for if I wasn¡¯t one?¡±
¡°Girl, I don¡¯t know. You just don¡¯t look like one.¡± Tabitha typed and waited for the proper clearance to appear on her computer screen. The girl looked more like a doll than a sexy Goth chick. ¡°Vampires are supposed to be all gangly and crazy-eyed, or sexy Goths all wrapped up in leather and shit. Walking dead with the devil¡¯s soul. But you ain¡¯t like that, right?¡±
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¡°Not in the least. I¡¯m very much alive and I don¡¯t have any devils on speed dial. Besides, I¡¯m agnostic.¡± Elly drummed her fingers on the counter. ¡°You really should watch Vampire Diaries. Didn¡¯t I recommend it to you the other day?¡±
¡°But that¡¯s all Hollywood nonsense. There¡¯s like a million different kinds of you. Hard to keep all the facts straight. Are you like Dracula? Selene? Edward or Camilla?¡±
Elly hoisted herself up until her elbows rested over the countertop, causing Tabitha to recoil as she stifled a yelp.
¡°Jesus!¡± Tabitha said. ¡°Don¡¯t scare me like that, girl. Nearly gave me a heart attack.¡±
¡°Your heart¡¯s fine.¡± Elly giggled as she tapped on the counter rhythmically. ¡°It¡¯s beating wonderfully.¡±
Tabitha felt a chill slither up her back before shaking her head. ¡°Now that¡¯s just creepy. Anyways. Nice to see you doing well. What¡¯s it like, anyways? Drinking from blood bags?¡±
Elly beamed. ¡°It¡¯s heaven on a lollipop stick.¡±
Tabitha quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Huh, right. You still haven¡¯t answered my question though. So, which one are you?¡±
Elly smiled coyly, resting her chin atop her bent hands.
¡°Well, what kind of vampire would you want me to be?¡±
Anaheim, California – 9:00 p.m., May 2018
¡°Oh my god, I can¡¯t believe this is happening!¡± The teenage girl sitting next to Elly squealed with delight. The photographer in front of them took several pictures before leaving the lavish Victorian-themed parlor.
¡°I love you so, SO much. Elsa used to be my favorite, but that was like before you happened. I mean, like, before your whole big reveal that vampires are real¡ªand that they¡¯re, like, nothing like the movies.¡± The girl rambled on without pause, not wasting any breath in the five minutes of allotment she has with the newest member of this fairytale castle.
Elly clasped the girl¡¯s trembling hands and smiled at her. The girl, who introduced herself as Sam, looked as if seconds away from fainting. Her heart pounded like a steam locomotive fed with too much coal and endangered from flying off the rails.
¡°Calm down, Sam. Breath. I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± Elly said.
¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m just so, so excited to finally meet you in person,¡± Sam said, attempting to calm herself down. ¡°I¡¯m acting like a total dork, aren¡¯t I?¡±
Elly chuckled. ¡°Hey, that¡¯s not a bad thing. I acted the same way when I met all of my idols for the first time. You should have seen me when I met with Lenka.¡±
¡°Oh my god, you listen to her too?¡± The girl gasped. ¡°She¡¯s like, my favorite singer and she¡¯s so underrated. I wish more people listened to her music. They¡¯re so good, I love her too. What¡¯s your favorite song?¡±
¡°The Bright Side,¡± Elly said.
¡°Oh my god, that song is so, SO you!¡± They both giggled and continued on with their idle chatter until it was time to switch to the next adorable fan waiting outside Elly¡¯s parlor.
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Before Sam left, she asked one more question.
¡°Elly, you like¡lived forever, so you probably have a lot of hobbies, but do you have a favorite?¡±
Elly tapped her chin and looked up at the ceiling before looking back at Sam.
¡°Gardening.¡± Elly pursed her lips in that coy smile immortalized in posters and screenshots all over the world, exemplifying her alluring demeanor.
Elly never expected that her first job, outside of being an ambassador, would be so well received¡ªthe living embodiment of a fairytale princess, employed by the premier entertainment conglomerate in the world.
She had all the qualifications that fit her job: fair skin, bright lips, full eyebrows, perfect height, eternally youthful, and above all, staying in character at all times¡ªthe character of Elly, the first vampire heroine who, against all odds, found the courage to step out of the shadows to fight against the stereotype placed upon her kind. Come to think of it, she was more of a product than an employee.
In a sea of make-believe princesses born from prose and the silver screen, Elly was the real deal, and the happiest place on Earth eagerly built a parlor for her own inside their castle once the contract was signed. It didn¡¯t take long for them to flood the market with her image. Take a backseat, Twilight. Vampires aren¡¯t just for angst Goths and Edgelords¡ªit¡¯s all about loving yourself and not being ashamed of being different.
For the low price of two hundred dollars, a customer could spend five minutes with her in private along with receiving five complementary photos, a signature, and approval to have one Instagram picture. Once per night, for the price of one thousand dollars, and if the customer was an adult, they could have the privilege of donating their blood to Elly directly, receiving her kiss and being inducted to the list of her honorary stewards. The next available spot in that queue for that was November of 2019¡ªand growing.
Elly walked along this microcosm of capitalistic fantasy and watched the myriad of attendees take pictures, enjoy rides, eat exquisite meals, and make wonderful memories. She skipped along with a radiant smile, basking in the light exuding from the streetlamps, the decorations and, more importantly, the joy of everyone around her. Who said that one needed to bask underneath the rays of the sun to live? She smiled proudly and danced.
Ah, what a beautiful garden.
San Francisco, California – 2:21 a.m., December 2018
The street lamps, neon signs, and passing cars warded away the darkness that sheltered her as she skipped along the rain-kissed sidewalk.
Elly saw a withered old man with an ebony complexion crouched down against a street lamp with his head slumped down. Dirt-encrusted hair shrouded his heavy eyes. Outwardly, he resembled a dried husk, but Elly heard the faint beat of his heart echoing by the chasm of his belly.
The old man looked up, and with a quivering arm, reached out to her with a cupped hand.
¡°One dollar?¡± he said, voice cracking from the weight of the effort. ¡°Any change, or bits of food? God bless you.¡±
Elly bent down and grasped his hand; It was withered, scarred, and callused from his constant use of construction tools, but his blunted fingers made it apparent that he hasn¡¯t used any in years.
Slowly, she opened her eyes to look at his. In those reflections, the steady yet defiant pulse of his heart exposed snippets of his life in a monochrome of red: one beat, one frame, one moment, revealing decades of hardship, discrimination, abandonment, and abuse inflicted upon him by those he devoted his mind, body, and soul to. A life of suffering. But between the frames, faded images of his 1971 Cadillac, his lovable bulldog, his first wife, his grandchildren, his completed projects, and all of his pride and joy, flickered like apparitions on the verge of being forgotten. In those moments, the echoes of his heartbeat the loudest, spurring him to crawl through despair, urging him that life was still worth living.
Ah, this was why she loved humans so. His stubbornness, his perseverance, was something she knew all too well.
Elly rummaged through her purse and placed a few hundred-dollar bills on his hand.
The old man¡¯s eyes widened, his lips trembled as he stared at her.
Elly smiled warmly. She couldn¡¯t very well let a human of his dignity die of starvation in front of her. How tragic that would be. One less human meant eternity became just a little bit smaller.
¡°God bless you,¡± he said again, whimpering. ¡°You¡¯re too kind. God bless you. You¡¯re an angel.¡±
¡°Tsk, tsk. I¡¯m no such thing.¡± Elly patted him on his head before continuing with her walk. ¡°I¡¯m just a gardener passing through.¡±
Three street lights away, she stopped, hearing the steps of four men approaching the old man from an alley nearby. They circled the old man while he remained mesmerized by her good deed. One of them swiped the money from his hand, snapping him out of his reverie. The old man lunged at the thief, tackling him.
¡°No, no, that¡¯s mine. An angel gave it to me,¡± the old man said.
The other three converged upon him and rained heavy blows on his already battered form. But the old man held firm, one hand gripping the arm of the thief that stole his momentary reprieve from hunger. His desperate wail drowned out the thieves¡¯ frantic curses.
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One of them pulled out a knife and stabbed the old man in his back¡ªthrice more for good measure.
Elly heard the old man¡¯s dwindling heartbeat through the thieves¡¯ hasty retreat. She walked back to him and stood outside the pool of blood seeping from underneath his body¡ªhis blank eyes staring at his outstretched hands.
She kneeled down once more. One beat, one moment, one frame. She saw her image in his eyes, an angelic girl in red, the final happy moment in his life being repeated, overshadowing the cruel reality of his demise, before all that was left was darkness. She reached down and closed his eyes before walking away.
What a waste. She frowned. Her good deed ended in tragedy. That old man didn¡¯t deserve to die like that. Not like that. Wither away and be forgotten in a ditch somewhere like discarded garbage, sure, but to fall victim to banditry¡ªwhat a disgustingly human end. A dreadful shame, really. She had high hopes for him. Her charity invigorated him, and he would have preached her deed to the good people of San Francisco and eventually the world.
A destitute man of color, saved by the kindness of an angelic bloodsucker. He would have been showered with interviews, testimonials, and attention. Hashtag vampires have a heart. Trending on Twitter. Front page on Facebook. Like. Follow. Subscribe. Imagine that. Elly, the goodwill ambassador of vampires, caring for the old and the unfortunate. Kind. Generous. Angelic. Oh, the stories that could have been. Instead, he was reduced to a useless slab of meat. What tragedy.
Elly heard the footsteps of the four thieving, murdering miscreants following her, keeping their distance, but keeping pace. They must have realized that she had more money in her little purse. It wasn¡¯t enough that they inadvertently foiled her plans, but now they intended to rob her? Or worse?¡ªthe audacity.
One of them had a beak-shaped nose that reminded her somehat of her first father. What was he fond of saying to her again?
"Don''t be afraid, my child. Just look at the bright side of things..."
The men navigated around the darkness, at times tripping among themselves. Elly took comfort in the night¡¯s embrace. Beyond the park that was once covered by a barrier of trees so long ago, stood the gates of a decrepit manor.
She smiled wickedly as they loomed closer. Let them follow. Her kindness didn¡¯t end with aiding starved humans. No. She also had a soft spot for her starving kindred. It was about time they had a decent meal.
Elly skipped along, humming a cheerful tune, eager to turn this tragedy into a comedy.
Oh, wa-Oh,
on the bright side,
oh, uh-Oh,
the bright side,
dum, de-dum, dum,
on the bright side,
oh, wa-Oh,
the bright side¡