Table Of Contents

Annwn's Maelstrom Festival: Concluding Volume of the Vampire Noctuaries

by Eric Muss-Barnes

Copyright Page
Donations Page
Dedication Page
Proem
Shakespeare Opening
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Shakespeare Closing
Playlist
Epilogue
Biography
Colophon
Poster Catalog
Other Books by Eric Muss-Barnes
Backcover

Copyright © 2013 Eric Muss-Barnes. All Rights Reserved.

All rights reserved under the Universal Copyright Convention and the Berne Convention For The Protection Of Literary And Artistic Works. The author of this book, Eric Muss-Barnes, secures all rights to this book, including the right to reproduce this book in whole or in part, in any form whatsoever, and extends such privileges to absolutely no other parties, individuals or companies. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, in whole or in part, by any electronic, mechanical, or other means including, but not limited to, all existing and yet to be invented information duplicating, storage or retrieval systems, without specific permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages. Thankfully, an unscrupulous company did steal material from the prequel to this book and I sued their pants off. Please, feel free to rip me off once more. I enjoy collecting money from criminals.

Published by Eric Muss-Barnes.

The Gothic Rainbow, the Gothic Rainbow logo, the font “Noctuary” (used in the cover title), the stylized ankh logo and their designs, the name “Dubh Sith Ink”, their various logos and logo designs, are all trademark and copyright © 1996 Eric Muss-Barnes. All rights reserved.

Address all correspondence and order inquiries to:

www.AnnwnsMaelstromFestival.com

Cover designed and created by Eric Muss-Barnes

PRINTED AND MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

First International Printing: January 2013 (eBook)

Donations

Dear Reader,

As a writer, the most important reason I publish my books is so good folks like yourself can read and enjoy them. Therefore, in order to make my writing available to the largest possible audience, I have decided to make all of my ebooks available for whatever price readers think is fair.

Here is how it works...

You can download any of my ebooks for free and donate money for it later. Instead of having a set cover price, you can visit www.DubhSithInk.com and give whatever you think this ebook is worth. $1.00 or $5.00 or $50.00 or $18.63 or a nickel. Anything you want. Only you can decide how much value my writing brings your life.

If you can't afford to pay for this ebook, simply share a copy with people in your life who would enjoy the story. Some friends. A few family members. A couple coworkers. Anybody you like. Or perhaps, you might be kind enough to write a glowing review for this ebook on the Internet? Whatever helps my writing gain a larger readership is just as generous as a monetary donation.

Perhaps I am naive in thinking I can earn a living by giving away my stories and requesting donations, instead of selling this ebook for a set price. Nevertheless, in a world where greed and digital piracy has divided people into thieves and misers, I believe readers will gladly spend hard-earned money to support writers who pen worthwhile tales. I believe you are exactly that sort of reader, and I humbly hope you will regard me as that kind of writer.

Thank you for your time. May your few short hours spent with this story enrich all the remaining decades of your life.

Respectfully,
Eric Muss-Barnes
www.DubhSithInk.com

Dedication

in the words of Captain Malcolm Reynolds

“We've done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.”

for believing I can do the impossible

Annwn's Maelstrom Festival is

dedicated to

Phoebe D. Crnich

Proem

This book, Annwn's Maelstrom Festival, is a sequel to my first novel, which was published in 1997 and entitled The Gothic Rainbow. This story picks up right where The Gothic Rainbow left off. You won't fully understand the story of Annwn's Maelstrom Festival if you haven't read the other book first.

The Gothic Rainbow and Annwn's Maelstrom Festival are the beginning and concluding volumes of a duology called The Vampire Noctuaries.

From the onset, The Gothic Rainbow was intended as a single book. However, once I began outlining the story in 1993 or thereabouts, I quickly saw it would end up being about 900 pages long. I didn't want my first novel to be a 900 page behemoth. So, I picked a good “stopping point” and decided to divide the story into two parts.

Annwn's Maelstrom Festival is the second half of a singular story which has been in my head for the better part of 20 years. It's not some “tacked on” sequel. It's the rest of the tale which I always wanted to tell.

I should also note...

There were many musical references in The Gothic Rainbow and you will find many in here too.

- text appearing like this is usually song lyrics -

As with The Gothic Rainbow, these references are designed to enrich and enhance the story and should not be construed as copyright infringement. On the contrary, that is exactly why I call attention to the music. I could have just as easily lifted occasional song lyrics without crediting them. But, I have better scruples than that. I want to expose this music and benefit the musicians involved. I encourage all readers to please go purchase all the songs. Rather than regarding a one-or-two line quote as infringing, I hope the musicians and record labels appreciate these tributes as they were intended - free promotion and publicity, creating greater exposure and sales for all the musicians involved. Please don't try to sue me. That would be lame. Goodness knows, if the roles were reversed and a band or musician quoted a few lines from this book in a song, and talked about what an awesome inspiration my novel was to them, I'd be thrilled! I'd be thanking them for such flattery! I'd be endlessly grateful for the extra promotions and book sales. I would certainly not be looking to cash in and sue them. These lyrical references are free commercials to praise this great music. Listening to these songs will greatly enhance your emotional context of the tale. I implore all readers to spend the money and buy these albums. Every last one.

By the way, just like in The Gothic Rainbow, there is a playlist at the end of this book, listing every song mentioned in the text.

Annwn's Maelstrom Festival has taken many years to end up on paper. Many more than I would have liked. But, everything happens in due time, I suppose.

Incidentally, the word “Annwn” is a Welsh name for the netherworld and depending on accents and dialect, it is roughly pronounced to sound like “UH-noon” or “AH-noon” or “AWE-noon” or “ON-oon” or something vaguely similar. Just like words spoken in English and American accents, pronunciations vary slightly, because different Welsh and Celtic dialects slightly alter the sound, but those examples are pretty close. The proper pronunciation is not “ON-win” or “ANN-win” or anything like that. Those are totally incorrect.

Thank you for reading this much of my book. After you read The Gothic Rainbow, I hope you shall find this conclusion of The Vampire Noctuaries enjoyable and worth the investment of a few hours of your time. And who knows? This is supposed to be the end, but if the book proves to be a big success, maybe there will be other stories from the world of the Vampire Noctuaries...

Welcome to the Festival...

“. . . 'tis now the very witching time of night,

when churchyards yawn,

and hell itself breathes out contagion

to this world. . .”

- William Shakespeare

Hamlet

Act 3, Scene 2

Chapter One

My name is Helle DuBois and I am the dark faerie Daughter of the late Elric DuBois. Everyone calls Me, “Hel”.

I'm not very good at telling stories.

Honestly, I didn't want to tell this story at all. But after reading Elric's noctuary, The Gothic Rainbow, I felt obligated to finish the remainder of His tale.

Yes, I did say “the late” Elric DuBois. You read that right. He died sometime ago. I know I'm not supposed to tell you that. Right? Not yet anyway. Storytellers are supposed to save those climactic revelations for later.

That's bullshit.

Elric meant everything to Me and I shall love Him for eternity. To keep His death hidden and use it like a damn punchline is pretty disrespectful if you ask Me. So, I'm going to tell you right up front - He is gone and this book shall end with His passing. In fact, many of the DuBois family vampires die by the end of this tale.

Wait. “I'm going to tell you right up front?”

Or should that be, “I'm telling you right up front.”?

Shit, I don't know. Like I said, I'm not too good at this.

I'm going to assume you already read His story in The Gothic Rainbow. If not, what the fuck are you reading this for? This story won't make any sense if you haven't read His tale first. I'm not going to recap things for you. This isn't some lame television show that brings you “up to speed” first. Get your shit together and read His beginning.

So how did He die?

Well, it's a long story. Where to begin?

Allyson taught Elric all about The Killing Game. Little did My beloved Elric realize He was a victim of it too - just another Pawn in a cruel and deceptive centuries-old Killing Game being played by the heartless DuBois sisters.

Unbeknownst to Elric, Camillia and Allyson were not the only vampiric sisters in the DuBois family. There was a third. One Who no longer lived in the DuBois mansion. Her name was Jacqueline; the eldest of the three.

Elric was a truly noble and good soul as a mortal.

When He met Jacqueline, He was still mortal and She quickly fell in love with him. He never knew this, of course. She never revealed Her feelings to him. As far as Elric was concerned, Jacqueline was just a friendly acquaintance. He certainly never knew She was a vampire either. After all, what sane mortal would believe such a thing?

Being completely devoted to his girlfriend, Sasha, Elric never gave Jacqueline much thought, really.

But to Jacqueline, he was something unforgettable. Pure. Innocent. An embodiment of everything She was missing in Her Own existence.

As Elric had done to so many mortals, His memories of the night He was made immortal were altered. Clouded. He presumed His fragmented recollections were simply due to having been so close to death and because the events surrounding His demise were so horrible that anyone would seek to forget them. Perhaps His mind was just forcing Him to never remember.

In truth, it was Jacqueline who forced Him to forget. All the key moments of that tragic evening were twisted by Jacqueline's doing.

He was not beaten and left for dead in some alley where he stumbled through a skylight and was found by Camillia.

No.

Those were false memories.

Truthfully, he was beaten and dumped in Jacqueline's back yard.

Finding the boy She secretly loved, covered in blood and nearly dead, poor Jacqueline couldn't resist the Hunger.

So near to death, the only way he could possibly survive was for Her to do the one thing She never dreamed of doing.

Jacqueline was the one who Turned Elric into an immortal that night, not Her Sister Camillia.

Tortured by the guilt of what She had just done, Jacqueline took Elric back to the DuBois mansion where She begged Camillia for help.

Taking full blame and responsibility, out of love for Her Sister, Camillia agreed to help Elric.

But not the way Jacqueline intended.

Instead, Camillia helped Elric bring out His darkest self.

Helped to make Him cruel and merciless.

Helped strip away all the purity that made Jacqueline love him in the first place.

Why would Camillia do such a thing?

Well, I'm getting way, way ahead of Myself. Plus, like I said, I'm not very good at telling stories.

Let Me start over at the beginning.

Things really started a few weeks after I was Turned by Elric. It all began on the Winter Solstice of that year - at the party celebrating the anniversary of Our Sister Allyson being Unborn.

Chapter Two

“... Remember who You really are... and why You're here...”

“... What?...”

“Camillia was never Your true Mother, Elric...”

There, behind masquerade masks and Victorian regale, Elric saw a stranger He once knew dearly, from ages gone.

Single Gun Theory pined a tenderness of “Motherland”. Gentle song to make one miss absolutely everything. This was a way to know things for want forgotten...

Throes of the Dead reveled before midnight. Past the Wiccan hour and on till dawn. All to praise their Royal Siabra, glorious as vile crashings of thunder.

Oh, speak to Him not of remembrances...

In the chill of December, upon the Winter Solstice eve, We were grand with the annual celebration of Allyson's Rebirth. Five days hence, We would again rejoice as such for Camillia.

On a floor above Me, I watched My Father while I grasped for arcs of fountain waters. All around, Christmas decorations glittered.

Atop the gallery staircase in Tower City Center, at Our private party, I gazed down upon a misty wishing well. Billowed it brumes over the softly swaying, musicbox dancing of the guests.

Weird, mechanized puppets hung suspended by cables below the arched glass ceiling. Perched in contraptions bizarre enough to mortify any Cat In The Hat. As though one slip from their steel gallows might kill a bedtime tale.

Colors and sparkles and glows and grinning all beat wings and propellers spun in strange spinnings. Overhead and through panes the terminal Tower appeared exhausted. Gazing up, it looked ready to sickly faint and collapse any moment onto all of Our heads. Dark and silhouetted, the building dangled there behind the happy, robotic eeriness of gaudy light.

Puppets and lights.

Spinnings and grinnings, all o'er the maniac of a soul perhaps I no more have...

Spins. Grins.

... Endless are My maddened hatter cat sins.

Nearby, Elric turned, curious dire, to a beautiful stranger.

There was a voice He knew -

“... That is Your name now, isn't it? Elric?... Even that You have forgotten.”

No...

His name may not be known.

And His form be less than a ghost.

None who knew of Him at mortal breath would He ever allow to see... Yet...

Jeanette?...

This cannot -

No mortal was She. Enrapturing.

... What did She say?

“... Jeanette? Jeannette Monet?... How - ”

Shamefully, She lost His eye and spoke to the floor. “No. I'm afraid... that name was never Mine either.”

A whirl of hate in wistful.

Lost was He in another endless “can not be”... How will all these nevers manifest? The lies of lifetimes that He always knew were untrue.

Illusions unbearable to break began to shatter underfoot.

He knows everything -

Don't. Please don't. Again He is driven mad only by being.

Where does He find this, His time? What does She ask that He recall?

Smiling skewed painfully. “... Then... You know how old names can stop being Who We are.”

“ - No.” Irritated, She's smirked with a reflection of His hurt. “Here I berate You for what You have denied and yet... I'm just as guilty.”

No angel of Her charm could be burdened of guilt... Could She?

And would this turn divinity into grotesque?

“Then Who - ”

Vague memories. A sharp twinge tried to surface. Then died...

An ephemeral -

Pain -

Running -

Blood -

So much...

Solace of uselessness -

- through the years carried pain and loss -

“My name... My real name, is Jacqueline.”

“Jacqueline?”

As a thousand locusts over His skin...

- kissed goodbye of the love of our lives -

And He -

And He is numb. And He is frozen. And He is blind. And He is buried far within no place. And He longs for the comfort of deceit.

Never ask that He remembers a thing.

All underfoot shatters. And silence detonates to color the world.

Remember what? -

- buried far within no place -

Mandibles burrow under flesh.

- Who He is...

- Why...

Tell Him, why are You -

“Yes, Elric... Jacqueline DuBois... The eldest of the three DuBois sisters... And Your true Sire I am.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Sorry.

The hell with that crap. I wanted to try being all flowery and mysterious in My writing, like Elric was in The Gothic Rainbow.

Fuck that.

It sounds awful when I do it.

Warned you I wasn't going to be very good at this shit.

Chapter Three

Sasha Ann Dunsbury sighed. Alone in her room she sat, while Elric perched, imperceptibly, outside her window upon the balcony rail. She should have died the night He became immortal. But Fate was not so merciful or kind...

Staggering into the dark, Elric had fled Allyson's party, which was still underway... somewhere... in the icy, snowless din of night.

How He arrived was hazy.

Where He had been...

... How He had ever arrived anywhere at all... All vague...

But He remembered...

He remembers -

... Back at the party, Camillia had come up behind Elric and put Her hands about His waist.

“ - time You knew - ”

Something said of truths and revelations.

“ - was just too ashamed - ”

Voices had faded into the throb of blood surging in His ears until He was not able to hear a word from their lips.

“ - I'm so sorry - ”

Why?

Why?

Why?

“ - afraid to tell You - ”

Memories fragmented -

Disgusted. Hurt.

“ - forgive Me for never admitting - ”

Something of a time having come.

“ - now that You've borne Your Own Child - ”

Recall only moments of screams and shouting. Eyes upon Him in shock.

“ - thought You would be happy - ”

And He never wants to know...

And He never wants to know...

“ - really proud of You - ”

“FUCK YOU ALL!”

... By the Light, this is not who He is...

Everything ceased to be then... No movement. How all the world can always just stop. Torn out His mind in delirium.

A shriek. A horror.

Staggering...

Into...

The dark...

- Sasha.

The light... Oh... Oh, please...

Again, Elric found himself outside His one true loves' door. On high to her patio He rose.

There He went to find comfort. There He went for solace.

But to see His love always brought only further torment. That makes sense doesn't it? Common sense. Should have been obvious to Him... I don't know why it was so hard for Him to learn. And everytime her presence twisted a knife in His anguish, He found Himself confused by how He could so easily forget all those vows He made, everytime He departed, to never visit her again.

Can she ever forgive Him for all He had become?

His love that once blossomed so rich and bright, now seems a pathetic joke, rotten and sour.

What good does it do to love her with ever bit of His essence? Once upon a time, He truly believed all anyone ever needed was love. That true love could never be defeated. Always would it prevail.

And now...

Now He finds Himself in a world that love cannot bless. And cursed He is, for all His infinite days upon this earth.

All His sins are truly unforgivable and never can He let Sasha see what He has become. He hated everything about Himself and Sasha was His only reprieve.

He exists knowing she would hate Him now as well. And He cannot ever admit to her His wrongs in the hopes of having her redemption.

However, that night would be the first one He did not come to regret.

Down through the years, Elric had watched Sasha. Always keeping track of where she was. What she was doing. Sometimes visiting once a week for months on end.

For twelve years, Sasha never knew what became of Him. None did. His funeral mourned no body. His cenotaph laid bare.

... For that misery alone, He supposed she too had died on that night when everyone believed Elric and his sister had perished.

Dini was gone.

But Sasha and Elric went on...

After that night of unkind Fate...

Sasha didn't speak for over a month. To anyone.

Her parents were near to institutionalizing her. Stayed locked in her room and cried... Brutalized by a grief far beyond mere tears. What Elric saw happen in her during those endless days, He would rather not remember... But He could never hope to forget. Not at all.

Years it took for her to be any part of the living world again. Can I say that without seeming a fool?

Obviously. She was never the same again.

Sasha wed two years ago, at the age of twenty-eight, to a gentleman named Theodore McArdle. Met on a cruise ship, I believe, about four years earlier. He was photographing ocean-floating orange peels with an old Lecia camera. A strange act, which certainly caught Sasha's inquisitive attention.

He was a good man. Kind. Gentle. Terms so trite they verged on insults, I know, but in his case those descriptions were honest compliments. Elric genuinely liked him.

They made a splendid life for themselves, even if it was a bit poor. A life where Sasha began to feel safe again. Secure and protected. With him, she could feel hints of her true self once more.

As I said, he was a good man, and he provided her all he could. Lived surrounded by trees on a secluded lot in Gates Mills, within a house which, at that time of year, glowed with christmas decorations in abundance. Not so many as to be vulgar. Not so few as to be pathetic. Just enough to be cozy. Enough to call it a home. The house was modest, but respectable.

Relatives had been visiting. Warm and loving affections shared. Children spoke all alight, with the eyes wild for presents.

Once talking of having their own children someday. Vacations they had. Plans and dreams. Hopes and wants. Happy memories of always and family and never come again moments. Never was it easier for her to feign contentment than in those years spent in marriage.

... Of course, something was always missing...

And her husband couldn't see it. Her parents pretended not to see it... So only Elric could. Only He knew her well enough to tell.

But the pain was always there. She learned to hide it. Everyone does. Hide it so well that you begin to even have yourself convinced that “things are okay.” But they aren't. They never will be. You'll forget that you've hidden your pain only because no one could ever hope to understand. People always expect all pain to heal eventually. No matter what. Broken legs to broken hearts. Everything heals, right?... But sometimes things don't heal. Things won't get better. And they never will. Some pain will never release anyone from its hold. And if an injured person admits to that, others will call you crazy. Say that you need help. Something must be wrong with you. Because they don't know how it feels to have gone through an experience which will hurt forever.

Suppose they shouldn't be hated for their inability to comprehend. Just reminded how lucky they are to have no clue what you feel. Let the blessed pity those wronged, and with luck we won't kill them.

Part of Elric was happy that Sasha always hurt a little... A lot of Him was happy, in fact.

... Is that cruel of Him?

She was beyond being everything to Him. He found a strange comfort in knowing that her pain came from His being more than everything to her as well.

Oh, His love, please find Him not cruel.

Just that it eases His own grief to know He's not forgotten.

Every smile across her lips still filled Him with joy. Knowing, just an instant before she laughed, that a moment in time would again be blessed to hear that heavenly sound. All her happiness was the most wistful blue in His mind.

... Strange... That wistful blue. An idol as His muse incarnate.

Hurt in every way it can be expressed feels so redundant. Must words of suffering always be prolific? No other emotion but pain or grief has ever truly existed, it does sometimes seem.

Every joy in her life He watched with an endless hurting. And the woe came not with envy, but with regret and remorse. Remorse upon remorse, for all she had which He should have been the one to provide.

But as their divorce drew nearer to being finalized, even the joy of her marriage began to wither.

Illusions come to an end.

Withering with her ring.

Sasha thought it should have been a lady cigar.

Before she wed, Elric watched her go from boy to boy, trying to find a love in them as strong as the love she had with Him... and she never came close... None could live with her shadows and ghosts.

And ceasing to speak of her past only made things worse.

Hide it.

Deny it.

Pretend it never happened.

Some boyfriends even insisted she never talk about her past at all.

So what did she have left now?

Returning back to the dark and lonely, she had little use for any moment to be.

When she had first come into her room, Sasha clicked on her stereo. Abandoning her guests and her husband downstairs. Hobbling into the room with a cane for her injuries from that horrible night, softly, as though not to awaken it, she then placed a Sinead O'Connor Universal Mother album in the CD player and put the song “A Perfect Indian” on repeat.

Within her room Elric drifted. Nestling Himself between shades and reflections. Behind her He roamed, crossed within the black ink of all her private noctuaries.

Into a dresser drawer she dug. Solemnly and almost ritualistic in her movements. Drawing out diaries and letters and keepsakes. Loving things Elric had sent and given her a lifetime ago.

A scratched dolphin pendant on a broken chain.

And a framed jigsaw puzzle of a country road.

Sprawled about her were cards and notes she had also written to Elric over the years. A journal of memories kept to ease the suffering and always remember. Words she never shared with anyone... Anyone...

Another of many christmas cards she had written to Elric sat by her. Dated that year. The cover decorated in three inviting houses with warm yellow glows in their windows and a snowman wearing a tophat outside. Opening it, she stared at the words while over her shoulder, the shadow of Elric read.

∞ ∞ ∞

O' Dearest Love of Mine,

Merry Christmas! So, how are you? We absolutely loved the card you sent us. It is so pretty. (Okay, I know you didn't send us one, but I can pretend and I know I would've loved it.) Sorry we can't go get a special card for you. If we did Santa might be riding a red and green dragon. Hopefully, you will like the cheery little houses on the front of this card.

This is not typical. Look at the time. My best thoughts come at night and here I am writing to you in the laughter of the afternoon. “Laughter” you say. Of course “Laughter” - can't you hear those darn kids downstairs? If they were any other children I wouldn't mind but these are terrorists. They are probably laughing because they knocked over someones fence or dropped a puppy on its head. Anyway, this is my first letter in ... No ... Scratch that idea; I don't want to think about it. Time Flies. I wish we had a bigger picture to give you. This one is so small I had to tape it in the inside of the X-mas card so it would not get lost in the depths of the GIGANTIC envelope. You can't really tell how big, blue and beautiful Krissanna's (my niece) eyes are nor how long her eyelashes are. As for me - HA - that stupid headband is on the back of my head. But I guess you can get the idea/picture. Please forgive me for the untidyness and mispellings of the letter. Really, it's the cats fault. You know how Theodore and I are supposed to visit his relatives in California for a week, the 2nd wk of January. It looks gloomy now. See if you can understand this - Our insurance company cancelled us. There Their reason was a mistake. They said because we were cancelled we would not have to pay but they would make it look like we were still with them and continue to cover us while they did an investigation. Now they realized it was a mistake and they have reissued Insurance to us. We now owe them a lot of backpay and a new premium. In other words we are totally broke. We might not even have Christmas dinner and we definitely can't buy each other X-mas presents and we most certainly can not afford plane tickets. So we are praying for a miracle. We know such things are true. Spirit wise we are doing excellent. Our house is stock full of Love, happiness, laughing, Christmas caroling, decorations and more. As far as work wise we are ready to drop from exhaustion. Last year we could This year, with all our financial woes, we can't afford to buy any Christmas presents for each other, or anyone else. I decided this I wanted to make sure I could get Ted something and maybe even Mom and Dad a gift. I put an ad in the paper to watch people's pets, but all the jobs I got are for Christmas and after. So I am outside every night ringing the bell for the Salvation Army + Ted and I both do it for 8 and a half hrs. on Saturdays. It is very cold, lonely, and back aching work, but like I said we are very happy. Because we will get paid, we have to stand the entire time and no eating, or drinking on the job. Oh and Ted and I are never allowed to work together. Now they tell us we won't get paid until the 31st. But that is okay. Even late - We will have a Christmas. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas wherever you are might be. If you were here, I would tell you that each day until Christmas you should go out of your way to do something or show extra Love for your family. Give your grandma a kiss on the cheek. Try outright shocking them. On a lighter, pinker note I'm using a pink lined card because it only cost 98 cents for 3 packs. I hope this letter isn't too disappointing to you. Hopefully the next one will be longer, more interesting and creative. Anyway I am thinking about you. Take care.

Rainbows Shooting Stars And Anything Out of the Ordinary

Love Always,

Sasha

∞ ∞ ∞

The sort of letter with hardly any emotion in it at all, she had written.

Not a dramatic letter written to a long dead love, speaking of grief, loneliness and old times. Rather it was the sort of letter which only a dearest friend could love so much to receive. A letter only for two between whom every element of each others lives is relevant and exciting to be told.

Sasha had been rereading the card along with Elric. Never would she send it nor leave it at His grave. Just bury it away again in the drawer with other seasons of the gone.

She took out a pen and added.

∞ ∞ ∞

P.S. My happiness is a bullshit lie. I'm miserable here and I miss you.

∞ ∞ ∞

“I miss you.” She spoke aloud, looking in the mirror as though able to see Elric standing behind her. A voice of the worst despair. Sometimes the simplest words can express pain far more deeply than any poetic mourn. Elric quivered a hurt smile, thinking again of the card Sasha held and the letter within.

A tattered old envelope she opened, gingerly as every other movement. Inside were pictures of Elric. Of them together. Laughing. Photos taken in beautiful, beautiful, beautiful sunshine.

... Sunshine...

... Pictures from a picnic... And there were tiny snapshots from a cheesy picture booth that they have in malls and amusement parks...

Sasha didn't need a cane back then.

Tears would brim in Elric, were I to ask why Sasha needs one now.

Was that truly Elric?... Hardly seems possible now.

He had forgotten how different His smile had once been. No malice. Nothing snide... Alive. Content... Loving.

For all the guises of His faerie charms, that wasn't a way He could ever make himself appear to be again.

On that night, the last twelve years were nothing.

A single song.

A single photograph.

They can make eons vanish in a blink, Our hearts return to an exact emotion We haven't thought of in ages...

On that night, Sasha was His girlfriend again.

And He missed her...

And there was Dini.

Oh, she was so tender a child.

- and there I saw a young baby -

One of Elric's favorite pictures of her it was. Sasha had a copy because she loved it too. Holding a fawn in the petting zoo at Sea World, it was taken when Dini was about 8 years old.

- her eyes like a wild Irish sea -

Never could explain why He liked it so much. A spark in her eyes? The mystery in a lock of her hair? All of that?... He didn't know. But something about that image caught a glimmer of the magic that his sister was to him.

Maybe if He hadn't known. If He hadn't been there to witness all that was done to Sasha and Dini.

He wished fire on that night.

Sasha caressed Elric's likeness with a fingertip. Her lips silently spoke words to the repeating song wafting over her room.

- remembering him life is sweet -

Tears welled. Beaded so big in her eyes that it seemed impossible for them to not be falling.

Through more picture she thumbed. Moments captured forever. Their old friends. Ones Elric would never forget. Other whose names eluded Him and it made Him sad to know He'd forgotten.

Looking back, He thought it wasn't so much the friends He missed as the times they had... Because He knew nothing like those days would ever return to His life again. Strange to realize that now, and not to have been aware back then, how brief those years would be.

Do you mortals feel the same, He wondered?

Missing a time in life you didn't know was temporary?

Three years? Five years? A brief span you believed would last forever? Building amazing friendships you thought would last a lifetime, only to discover they didn't last at all?

Shameful to admit that perhaps He didn't actually miss many old friends. But He did miss the very moments of His past more than any who were part of those moments.

Every shade of color in pictures seemed faded as old pastel teardrops.

The simple sound of Sasha slipping one photograph behind the next made Elric yearn for a life forever lost.

He saw himself through time, in a past torn as easily as paper.

And time...

And time...

Always shall we know that there was an instance when everything changed.

Oh, how it is all time and pain and loss...

Can we not hold to any joy? All at once, He was cheated of every beautiful future He could possibly be blessed to possess. And with that, every noise be the sound of His requiem.

Time... It is all Our cruelty...

Funny thing about time - how something you did last week can seem like it was years ago... and how a decade-old memory can be as vivid as what you did yesterday. And lately, of that now and then so recently long ago, He felt caught between every possibility of future, present and past.

As I sat there in the evening darkness by her room on a cold winter night, it seemed a thousand years from a bright, sunny summer day. Yet seeing old photos, I not only felt the summer sun, but I felt Sasha's loneliness dispelled as she relived memories of Elric's smile on the way to Cedar Point in the car. The heat, music, light, breeze, the warmth of the day, his touch... How far was she from those bygone moments? Once time passes, does it matter if it took place ten seconds ago or ten years? What is time to the persistence of a memory? What moments matter? The present loneliness? The past joys? Or those joys and sorrows to come? Where are they? When do they come? Where have they gone? Once a moment turns memory, can we ever be certain of when it ever was? Has it all been? Or has none of it been? Is that sense of infinitely eternal joy an illusion, or are the lonely times an illusion? What moments can be those they truly seem to be? How fine are the lines between present experience and past memories? What is it which divides the split seconds of “now” from the fragmented minutes of “then” and the ever uncertain hours of “to be”? Are we always?... Or are we never? Is there any true continuity to past and future? If so, how can it be a thing as intangible as “the present”? For that is never truly consciously acknowledged, or even fathomable, until it is gone. It is possible that the present doesn't truly exist? That time is never in a state of “now” but only in a state of “what was” and “what could be”? We are never truly here. We are merely anticipating futures and recalling memories. There is no true link. There can be no continuity to time.

If we forget all we know, what shall we call time? What shall we become? How do we maintain the expected continuity of self? How close can we be to times past and times to come? If the difference between the time of memories and the present is so minute, what can the difference be between imagined futures and their manifestation into the present? How strong are the fibers of time? How tightly is the fabric of reality woven?

How can anyone long for friends who are, mere concepts in the mind? Not tangible entities. As I wrote this, alone in My room, I could very well think Myself the only Being in all the universe. So could Sasha. Yet, memory. She longed for her friends. She missed them. Those she's either never met, nor will ever be apart from. Her memory provides her own continuity... But even that can fail. How long had she known some of them? Centuries? Eons? Immeasurable time? Eternal. Without beginning or end. How then? Always together? Always apart?... No. Memory. That rings true. Always together indeed. I feel it. Even when apart. Always. Never forgotten.

...So what is time? What aspect is eternal? The past? The future? The present? View the future with anticipation. Relish the present. Cherish the past. Is it all one? Continuity irrelevant? Or do we grant time its continuity? What is time without our personal grants of continuity upon it? In what order does it fall? Our future visions? Our past memories? Where might they all lie without a continuum? How she can be with everyone and no one all at once?

If the line between past and future is present, how far can the gap be? How long can the future be kept from the present or the past? What are those moments of time without beginning or end? Those memories... or those presents? Are they truly as eternal as they feel? Are those the realities, the rest the mere dream?

Or is it all a mere dream, rising forever amongst our loves and hopes, our wishes and memories, our present is, our past was, and our future to be? Eternity has never truly been, for it has always been there.

All time was not simultaneous, so much as no moment Elric could fathom was neither in the past nor the future. Nothing came before or after anything else.

Time had abandoned all Elric's memories and marked only His grief...

Sasha began to write in a notebook, adding to a diary of thoughts she had started when He died.

Stopping, she got up to change her music. Then, she returned to the desk and reread old entries in silence.

∞ ∞ ∞

September 26:

Scott and I had a class together at Holy Dame gradeschool. It was the first room on the right, as you walk in the main doors of the school. When we remet in high school, we lived on opposite sides of town, so we didn't get to go to school together anymore.

In gradeschool, we were in the Science Fiction Club together too. Sort of symbolically, I suppose, he and I said when we looked back on it, we don't remember when we met exactly. When did we first see one another? When did we first speak?

I remember our one class. A studyhall. I sat in the middle row, lined up with the door, facing the west wall. I had the third-last seat. Scott sat right behind me. He would yank my fingertips as I was resting my head. He said he never saw anybody lay on a desk that way and he thought it was cute. I would drape my left hand over my right shoulder and rest my chin on my elbow.

I drew a lot in that class. Scott once asked me if he could take my notebook home to show his family. I let him. I was really flattered. The sketches were all pretty lame. But he said he liked them.

Scott would always tease me when he would read my mind and I was fantasizing about him. He never told me until years later why he'd just hit me, saying, “Sasha!”

Later, Scott said, he just would get images of me with some nude boy and at first he couldn't see the boys face, but then he saw it was him. I suppose I was a little young to thinking those thoughts, but he just intrigued me so much.

Once, I drew a picture of a nude male warrior and I told Scott I wanted to draw a nude warrior that wasn't dirty. I was scared to death to show Scott that picture. I even wrote him a note in study hall to explain it to him before I showed it to him. He liked it. Years later, he told me he was curious about me because he couldn't understand how I could draw the male form so well. It sort of enticed him.

∞ ∞ ∞

October 4:

I had a dream about Scott today. We were in a nightclub together and we were talking on a couch. He sat by me. His eyes were like kaleidoscope rainbows. Changing to dozens of colors as he spoke.

Once, Scott and I were talking on the phone when we first started seeing each other in high school. He said he was “like a ghost.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. He said that all of my friends knew about him, “and yet none of them have ever met me. I'm like a ghost. I just blow into these conversations now and then and then I'm gone.” He made a wind-like hush of sound and he said I was a ghost too, because I floated into all of his conversations too.

∞ ∞ ∞

February 9:

I recall sitting in my room with the radio on and “Against All Odds” by Phil Collins came on and I cried so hard in missing Scott. It was shortly after we met up again. He called the next day.

When Scott called me on February 10, it was around 4:00pm in the afternoon, I recall Jessie Granel was potentially going to “set me up” with some guy. When my grandma told me the phone was for me, I was eating dinner in the livingroom. I answered the phone in the dining room.

“Hello?” I said.

“Hi.”

“Hi... This is?” I didn't recognize his voice and thought it might be the guy Jessie had mentioned.

“You tell me.”

Then I said, “Oh, my God!”

I knew it was him. I was so overjoyed. I got his address and sent him a huge package shortly thereafter. The package with a video of me and my car and my house and stuff. Also with 4 Richard Bach books (Illusions, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, The Bridge Across Forever, One) and “There's No Such Place As Far Away.” I also sent “Creative Dreaming” and a lengthy letter.

On the last day before Scott died, he referred to that letter I wrote, and how much he loved it.

After he got my huge package, he called. And all he could say was, “That's awesome. Awesome.” He said it over and over, calling it “unexpected.” I remember saying that, “I was so excited, I guess I just got a little carried away.”

Funny... After Scott died, his friend Valorie complained that she didn't have enough things from Scott to fill a shoebox... I just realized that the treasures Scott gave me fill my heart, and that's better than a shoebox.

∞ ∞ ∞

On the night of December 30, I dreamt about Scott. He and I were running from someone or something. I recall helping him to cross some flooded aqueduct on floating metal panels. He wanted to kiss me, but he feared doing so because he had some weird skin disease he didn't want me to contract.

∞ ∞ ∞

January 24:

I was in the science lab at Holy Dame. It was Ms. Horvin's homeroom. It was on the first floor, all the way down on the eastern side of the school, on the southern side of the hallway. The first room there. I had carved a wooden unicorn horn for Scott the previous evening in my garage out of the leg of a table. The horn was mounted on a base. The top of the base had a “parchment” glued on the right side. It was actually a ripped piece of a paper shopping bag which I shellacked and super-glued onto he paneling base. It read, in gothic letters, “For The Brother of my Soul. May your life be purely enchanting. Your Loving “Sister” Sasha.” The bottom said, “A gift to Scott from Sasha for no reason in particular. Love ya! 24 January” The horn itself was stained wood, polished too.

I was waiting to give the horn to him and he wasn't showing up. It was before homeroom and I was getting annoyed, wondering where he was. The horn was so huge, it hardly fit in my bookbag. I remember saying “Darn it! Where is my soulmate?”

That was the first time I ever called Scott that.

The really strange part is, I don't ever recall having used that term before. And I couldn't remember were I had heard it, though it was really familiar.

Ms. Horvin overheard me and was shocked and asked me if I knew what a soulmate really was. I said I guess I sorta did. She explained to me how one “pair“ of souls were supposedly created between us all in the beginning.

When Scott finally showed up, he lit up when I gave him the horn. He was speechless. He told me later that it was hard to fit in his locker. I also remember him saying that his mom was making crude jokes about it when he took it home. That a unicorn horn can have “more than one meaning.” I recall being pretty shocked and embarrassed by that!

∞ ∞ ∞

Scott once told me about visiting his cousins in Carolina. Late one cold night, while talking to his cousin, he told her he could run across a mud field without getting his white socks dirty. So, he did it. He ran out the front door, across the street in a field to a construction tractor, and came back. His feet were clean and his cousin was amazed. When she asked how he did it, he told her he trained herself to run a few inches off the ground. She believed him for a second. Then Scott laughed, reminding her that it was cold and all the mud was frozen. That's how he did it.

∞ ∞ ∞

Scott,

Hello, my love. I really miss you... Forgive my cliched expressions of my feelings. I've got the radio on... Native Peoples say the Old is coming back.

I wonder... I doubt it will bring me out of where I am. Since I have seen you walk on, all is slightly darker. Always will it be.

How have you been?... It's so hard for me to hear you my darling. All I love seems to be slipping away. Everything seems to be dying.

I'm scared. I need you. So many times in my life, you were there for me. The sound of your voice was, so often enough, all I needed to alleviate my problems... Talk to me! No one ever knew me like you. No one knows us. No one understood.

Who can I talk to now?

∞ ∞ ∞

“Elric” was a nickname I gave to my one true love. It came about one summer afternoon (after we started dating) when I asked him if he had a name for his penis. He laughed and said he never thought about it, but, “How about Excalibur?”

I told him if he were going to name it after a sword, he should call it “Stormbringer” after Michael Moorcock's character, Elric. Honestly, I never read the books, but I remember it from his Deities & Demigods book.

∞ ∞ ∞

At Holy Dame, I remember seeing the Junior High kids Graduation in the gym. We were set up in rows on the gym floor, facing the stage. Aisle down the middle. I was on the right half, only 2 or 3 chairs from the aisle. Quite a few rows back.

Scott was on the left, a row or three ahead of me. Only two chairs from the aisle. Their “class song” was “Pray For Me” by Michael W. Smith. As we sang it, I stared right at Scott through the whole song. Mentally shouting at him to turn around. Eventually, he did for a line or two. I remember thinking that if he looks at me, then he truly loves me and always has.

After the ceremony, everyone hung out to talk and bid their farewells. Scott went on to talk to people... and I wandered through the crowded gym alone. I wound up sitting by myself on a bleacher bench... Realizing how lonely I was. How I had no friends. And how I might one day lose my one true love... Where will I ever find such an innocent relationship again?

∞ ∞ ∞

When I went to see Scott at his practice for his high school Graduation Ceremony at church, I gave Scott a copy of the Unicorn Notebook. I recall Scott got sent home from the practice because he wore shorts and people weren't allowed to wear shots to the practice. He always kept that book though.

After the Graduation itself, I saw Scott just as we filed outside. He turned around and smiled at me... Those shorts were red, I remember. White trim.

∞ ∞ ∞

2 February

Scott My Love,

Hiya honey. I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Part of me misses you so much I'd easily be willing to die to be with you again... Presuming that sort of thing would work.

But I will not die yet.

Because I have too much to do. I have so many things I need to do. One of the most important of which is to make sure your life is remembered. To assure at all costs that your death was not in vain. It was not something that will weaken me or the world or life.

I must use it to make me stronger. Even more resolute in my convictions to live a life full of meaning and importance. That's always been so important to me. Now it's even moreso.

I need to touch people. To reach broken hearts and make them smile a little. Help joy and innocence prevail. Remind them all what you and I know so well... And what you must've forgotten from time to time, just as I did.

... I don't think I'll ever be able to believe that you're gone, my love. Because I continue to sense your spirit. My love for you increases by the hour. And my pain hasn't subsided at all. Like winter bells.

“Adia” by Sarah McLachlan is on as I write this.

This whole album makes me think of you.

How can my love for you grow though? How can it grow when it is already boundless?... Maybe it's just my awareness of it which grows...

I'd give everything I have to be with you again... And now it looks like that will be my only choice; to give everything.

I'd rip clouds from heaven for you. Dance on the moon. Stand on the sun. Bring you bouquets of stars... Ha!... Sappy... What inadequate promises to express my love.

But, dance with me in dreams, my prince... At least bring me that comfort. For those are precious, bittersweet moments. Two nights ago, I dreamt of you. And held you close.

... I've heard friends cry over missed friends and lost loves... But they don't really know the pain I've felt over losing you. There are things worse than death... But nothing has left me quite as empty as losing you.

∞ ∞ ∞

When Scott told me about the book “They Thirst” by Robert McCammon, he said he liked the character Palatzin. He also said he knew he wasn't pronouncing his name like everyone else would. But that I would say it just like him (Pal-a-taz-in). And I was the only person he knew who would.

∞ ∞ ∞

When telling me about the Robert McCammon book “Boy's Life”, he read the first few pages aloud to me. Later, after we'd both read it, we agreed that those few pages were the only good part.

∞ ∞ ∞

When we were in gradeschool, one January, we were at a club meeting. It was in the last room on the west end of the building. Third floor. South side of the hallway. I remember the day he returned “Ariel” to me. My favorite book, by Steven R. Boyett. I was shocked that he read it so fast. Only 2 days or so. His face lit up when he told me he liked it. Later, I remember telling him I almost felt guilty, because it was my way of telling him that any other girl would hurt him and leave him. He knew I'd done that. It flattered him. I thought he'd be mad. He told me that boys look at those things differently than girls.

When he gave the book back, I was standing by him on his left and his bookbag was on a desk in front of us. About 3 seats back. It was a rainy, dark day.

That was also the room where everyone in the club sat in a circle in the southwest corner once and we all talked and Scott told everyone he was from another planet. I just remember being really annoyed with him, he smiled at me.

∞ ∞ ∞

In high school, for my birthday, he gave me a pewter baby dragon that was just leaving its shell. He gave it to me days early and told me I wasn't allowed to open it until my birthday. After I opened it, he said it wouldn't have hatched otherwise. And if I'd never opened it, it would've grown into a real adult dragon. I felt bad, because somehow I believed him.

After an argument, he also gave me a golden unicorn necklace. He gave me an envelope with the necklace in it. The outside of the envelope said “Dragons and unicorns ARE forever.” in red pen. It made me really mad because I said something to that effect to him, and he disagreed when I knew he didn't mean it. The necklace felt more like he was toying with me than apologizing.

I wore that necklace everyday for a long time though.

∞ ∞ ∞

After graduation, Scott was working at Waldenbooks at Great Northern Mall and I went there with Jerri Jarzicki and Chrissy Zacks. He wore a black sweater with pink in it and bluejeans. His eyes were grey that day. I was standing in a row of books and he walked by and said, “Hi, Sasha.”

When I turned to see who it was, he had vanished into the Children's section of the store. I went back to see him and felt... dazed. I didn't know he was working that day and it was such a joy to see him on accident.

It was around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. He had a very long braid on his right side. We stood amongst “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”, “A Wrinkle In Time”, “Island of the Blue Dolphins”, “Where the Wild Things Are”, “Indian in the Cupboard”.

I asked him about the book “Unicornis”. He said he's seen it. I told him I wanted to find the horn for him.

He showed me his skull & crossbones ring. He said it passed down to different friends and it gave them all bad luck. It gave good luck to Scott. After his death, I took the ring to throw into Lake Erie.

When I left, I said, “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Sasha.”

“Wait! I mean, I'll see you later. I'll never say goodbye to you.”

When I left, I noticed they were hiring there. I went home and went all the way back just to put in an application, in the hopes of working with him.

At 4:30pm, I tried one of those BioRhythm machines. I still have the output receipt in an old journal. My emotional biorhythm was at 89%.

I went back to show Scott.

“I always have that effect on you, don't I?” He said.

“Of course... ”

∞ ∞ ∞

August 28 Monday 3:02am

Dearest Scott,

Hello, my love. I finally watched “The Secret Garden” tonight. I saw you in it. My Colin.

Forgive me. It's been a long time since I wrote to you in here... I'm scared Scott. I know I've been forcing away a lot of the hurt. Stamping it down.

How do I live an entire lifetime without you?

I mean, I've thought a lot about you and me and soulmates and all. And if we aren't soulmates, what the hell were we?

That's part of why I'm scared. Everyday since we met I've felt stronger and stronger that you are my one true love. Haven't you? Hasn't everything else been a mistake?

Life balances itself. I tell myself my future can have a much brighter light by paying the price of this darkness.

But will it?

The truth isn't that important to those who only wish to feel better. They aren't seeking truth. That's the important part. They speak of seeking heaven, grace, peace, well-being, salvation and a million other things - but never truth.

What is my truth? Can it ever bring comfort?

So, what can I do? It's such a horrid notion to never see you in this life again. But, on top of that, to know we're soulmates! That never in this life will I find one to love or who will love me as completely as we love each other.

Love is always a couple of steps beyond definition.

Even after you have died, I continue to love you more everyday.

I still love you, Scott. But we always love what we can never have.

To most, “I love you” is just a figure of speech.

A friend couldn't understand when I spoke to her of being lonely.

A husband. A home. To her I have it all. She asked why I was lonely.

I said, “You know... sometimes, you just wake up that way.”

... What wretched loneliness that brings... This letter to you tonight won't bring any answers. But please keep in mind what I have said and we'll talk more later.

∞ ∞ ∞

7 September

As the months go by, I'm hit every now and then with the pain of how much I truly miss you.

Every now and then, I am still struck by the urge to call you. Just to hear your voice. always on those weird nights, when the years we haven't spoken feel only like days.

I would do actions and say words to you that I could never say to another. And what's more, I would do so without a question of thought or regret. I worship you. The air you breathe is holy to me.

... I just woke up as I began this entry. I had a dream that we were at Parmatown together, in front of where Woolworth's used to be. There were escalators in the floor and I was on a “lower level”. You were on the main floor, waiting at the top. I rode up and we hugged and kissed and I vowed to love you forever, and beyond forever. You agreed and said we never should've been apart and I swore to find you again.

When I awoke, you're all I can think about. No boy in my life has ever even come remotely close to touching me so closely. You elated me. I was so proud of you. No boy had the courage, spirit, wisdom, wit or any of a thousand other positive traits you do.

... Goddamnit, Scott! WHY?... I can still picture you in my life so easily. Imagine us together. Dating. Married. I can see dinners, hikes, vacations, relatives, laughing, loving, children, romance... How do I get it all back? How can it feel so close and yet not be? Is it that close? Is there just a trick to it which I've yet to find?

∞ ∞ ∞

13 September

Had another dream about you last night. I had snuck into a club with a movie theatre inside. The club had no cover, so I thought the movie was free too. But, once I got in, they started checking tickets. Ted Sovello is there too. The theatre looks very similar to Music Hall where I sat for Tori Amos. But I was in the first row of the back section. Ted is to my left. Scott is left of Ted. We're all spaced a number of seats apart. Everyone has orange ticket stubs they hold up as ushers shine flashlights on them. I find a stub on the floor and pick it up to use. I had no intention of seeing the movie. I just want to trick the usher and leave.

Scott gets caught. I'm laughing because he didn't get away with it. Then, I hear a voice on a PA or something announcing how anyone sneaking in gets brought up on charges. Behind me are the entrances. I hear Scott screaming. I turn around and see a big security guard smacking him and dragging him along. I get PISSED. I fly out of my seat and start hauling ass up the aisle to save him.

I woke up.

Then I had to remember his death all over again. Lying in bed, I cried and thought I would vomit. My heart was speared. Horrid to feel like such a failure. Failed to reach him in my dream. Failed to reach him in this world too.

... Scott, can you ever forgive me for not protecting you? Because, I doubt I'll ever forgive myself.

∞ ∞ ∞

8 November

Why did you leave me?

Being with my soulmate is all that ever mattered to me. Now, I must live out my life knowing that I had him in my arms, but I lost him.

... It is almost 11am and crows caw in the leafless trees outside my bedroom window...

∞ ∞ ∞

25 November 8:58p.m.

Hello, my love. As usual, its been awhile since last we spoke in here.

... I'm really confused... My husband may not be right for me. But it feels so comfortable and right when we're together. And feeling so loved and so much attention is absolutely dizzying.

I do have a lot to do yet though.

I do have along way to go.

Because I'm not prepared to give up on you and I yet. Now and then, I still see a glimmer of hope and love which just won't go away. And I don't really understand where that feeling is coming from.

∞ ∞ ∞

21 January 1:09a.m.

I always wait so long to write, don't I?

Scott, I am in love with you and always will be. I will never give up on you or us. But my husband really loves me. And I hate hurting him...

Why am I writing this?... Why did I start?...

I just fear something - ... (sigh)...

∞ ∞ ∞

26 March 3:38p.m.

Last night, I told my husband, Theodore, about the time we were on the phone and began to speak of vampires.

I remember you said that you and Chris were discussing your first crushes that you can ever recall having. We were on the phone in the summer sometime. You were all excited because your first crush was Countess Bathory, just like Chris Fisher said hers was Dracula, and you hesitated to mention it to her because you thought it sounded silly.

I never told anyone that conversation.

Until I told Theodore yesterday...

∞ ∞ ∞

3 August 1:39a.m.

I had only one entry in here all of last year?

... Scott, forgive me. I just hurt and I'm really confused by my feelings. I mean, my memories of you are all I have and... I don't have many. But I miss you, and the pain never changes now that I'm so numb.

∞ ∞ ∞

8 August 11:26p.m.

I told Ted about the lady fingers awhile ago. Today he gave me one. It pissed me off. I hate it when someone I love tries to be nice and instead violates some precious memory. It was one of those moments I'd never be able to comment upon. He was trying to be sweet. If I told him that he'd just cruelly manipulated a sacred memory, he'd feel like shit. So, I simply smiled and pretended I appreciated it.

Although it may have been special to me, the love I feel for you is nothing unusual. Girls fall in love forever all the time. We might not admit it, but we do. No matter how much we try to pretend we're strong and independent women, there's always that one boy in her past. She'll never tell you about him. But he'll be in her heart forever.

Boys rarely love a girl forever.

Yet, I think you shall have loved me forever too.

Any girl can tell you - that's a rare thing indeed.

∞ ∞ ∞

26 September 9:02p.m.

The way I've always known marriage was supposed to be was never how it was.

There was only one boy I ever should have married... but you died, my love.

Being married to you would have been so different than it was with Ted. Sure, I loved him and we were happy together at times. But marriage is supposed to be... like, if I look at my husband it should be like looking in the mirror at... a more ideal version of myself. He would have all the same hopes, dreams, goals, desires and ambitions as I, but, being an individual, his perspective on those things would make them... ugh... no...

No... I can't describe what I'm trying to say. Just when I'm on the verge of articulating the emotion, all the words disappear.

But it does seem it has something to do with mirrors and reflections.

An elusive notion I can not articulate?... Perhaps that is why I have failed at this institution called “marriage”.

... Shit. Who wants to be institutionalized anyway? (ha, ha)

... Marriage should be to a person who is a mirror to the essence of all we are... and perhaps the substance of what light we could become...

∞ ∞ ∞

Abruptly, the entries ended. Clearly, they had been started as a catharsis which was never completed. A way for Sasha to heal, that had never been finished.

“Treasure” by The Cure stopped on her stereo and Sasha snapped out of her daze at the sound of silence.

Sasha quietly closed the notebook.

In the movies, this would be the scene where Elric would linger and Sasha could sense His presence when she looked up into the mirror.

In reality, no such thing happened.

Sasha never looked up and Elric didn't stick around. He backed away and turned His face. He had done this before. He already knew how it would play out. I'd be willing to bet He had all those journal entries memorized, just as Sasha did.

She hadn't written anything new for years.

She was frozen in reliving.

Elric vanished from the room and Sasha was left isolated to mourn Him. She never knew He had been there in the lugubrious shadows.

She never sensed His presence.

She never felt His love.

She was alone in the world, abandoned to no comfort.

Chapter Four

“How is she?” I asked, referring to Sasha.

Although I had been watching Him in secret, Elric reacted to My question as if He had known I was there all along. Knowing Him, He probably did know.

“She's fine.”

It wasn't like Elric to give such a cordial lie.

Then again, it wasn't like Him to care about anyone as deeply as Sasha. Regardless of whether He had known I was there all along or not, His tone made it obvious He didn't want to talk about her.

Good. I didn't want to talk about her either.

I loved that He was so devoted and passionate. But I hated that He didn't reserve every drop of His heart for Me.

No one else knew He made all these visits to Sasha over the past dozen years. He never spoke of it to anyone. I only knew because I could feel her presence on Him.

- and I think I could leave Your world -

- if she was the better girl -

“Sorry. None of My business.” I lied.

His eyes told Me it was okay, but He didn't say anything.

Instead, He entwined His arm around My Own, held My hand, and pulled Me close to kiss My cheek. His forehead pressed against Mine, We sat in silence for a long time.

We shared so many quiet moments like that. I miss those most of all. Almost as much as I miss the sex and violence.

I couldn't get Tori Amos out of My head. The night felt like “Honey”.

- you're just too used to My honey now -

I had followed Elric from Sasha's house over to Lakeview Cemetery. Shorty before midnight, I walked up to Him out of the darkness and We sat upon the Haserot grave, with The Angel of Death Victorious.

The snows from the blizzard weeks before had since grown, adding to a dreary gray of winter that only the shores of Lake Erie could possess. Even in the blackness of midnight, you could feel the bone-colored gray of the world.

A chill night for mortals, but no concern to We Children of Banba as We settled into snowy thrones at the foot of the angel.

- so when We died I tried to bribe the undertaker -

- because I'm not sure what You're doing -

Finally, Elric said, “She talked to You.”

He didn't say it as a question and I knew right away Who He meant. “Jacqueline?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” I responded in the same tone.

“And?” He asked, “...What are We going to do?”

That wasn't a rhetorical question and I was a little shocked. He genuinely didn't know the answer. I never recalled Elric asking for My opinion before. Not that He didn't respect My opinions or feelings. It's just that He was the type Who always knew exactly what He was doing and He was constantly three steps ahead of everyone else. It took Me aback to hear uncertainty from Him. He never asked for My opinion because He never needed it. Until now.

I understood His trepidation.

After I spoke to Jacqueline, the full implications of Her secrets began to sink in. Elric and I were both uncertain of what these revelations meant. All We knew for certain was that Elric had been lied to for a very long time. The “why” was suspicious and one thing was clear - Elric was not fully aware of what deceptions may be around Him and the dangers they might imply - and by extension, as His Daughter, I shared in whatever bodes ill for Him, within those hidden agendas. Whatever was waiting for Us, We were in this together, and We both knew it.

“You ran out of there pretty fast.” I observed.

“I just needed to - ” His voice trailed off. I waited for the end of a sentence which never came.

He needed Sasha. To feel grounded. To burn away the chaos. Even if it was only an illusion. But I knew He wouldn't say any of that to Me.

I'm glad He didn't, and it made Me smile.

Finally, I said, “It was a lot to handle.”

Elric slowly changed His posture and it was as if His self-assured persona was being poured back into His spine.

That was the boy I loved.

He may have been understandably distraught, but when the chips were down, He still knew how to get His shit together really fast.

“Why?” He wondered aloud. “Why now?”

I could see this thoughts. “Why appear out of nowhere, right now?” I elaborated.

“Exactly.” He pointed at Me for emphasis.

I was embarrassed to respond, because I was the One responsible. “She told You,” I said. “It was because of Me.”

The motive began to make sense to Him.

“Right,” Elric said. “She was ashamed of what She had done. Now that I have created a Daughter of My Own, She felt I was ready to know what really happened.”

“That's fucked up.” Was all I could manage to say. Sounded moronic when I said it. I may have been 16 years old, but I really hated it when I sounded like I was 16 years old. Especially at moments like that. I wanted to be mature and wise and comfort Elric, not come off like a little girl.

To cover My embarrassment, I quickly changed the topic.

“Who is She? Who is Jacqueline?”

“I thought You talked to Her.” Elric replied.

I shrugged, “Yeah. But She didn't give Me Her whole life story. She told Me that You met Her when You were mortal. But She didn't really elaborate and I didn't ask. I was too distracted with worrying about You.”

Elric chuckled. “So it's My job to give You Her life story?” He frowned, “Heck, I don't know it either. I don't know anything about Her, really. We barely knew each other. After all these years, I hardly recognized Her.”

He looked both handsome and innocent in the darkness by that massive statue. There was a resilient strength in His eyes, underlying that overwhelming sorrow.

If My stupid “fucked up” comment was embarrassing, it is even more humbling to admit I found Myself in one of those moments when I became lost in His beauty and was not really hearing His words. I cupped His face in My palm and kissed Him. Long. Hard. Passionate.

He melted into My embrace and We swam in Our shadow lust for each other. That never changed. Never faded. Even in Our darkest of moments, the energy between Us was astonishing. Sasha may be the love of His life, and His entire sea - but I knew I would always be His lightning and thunder. Sasha may be the ocean, but Our love was the firestorm.

Eventually, We pulled apart and gazed into one another. His smile was gradual and sincere. He didn't speak, but mouthed the words - “Thank You.”

“You looked like You needed it.” I said.

Long and deeply He sighed and nodded in agreement. We curled up next to the grave and I buried My head against His shoulder.

“Tell Me?” I implored Him.

He let out another sigh and began. “Okay. Well, I didn't know Her as Jacqueline DuBois when I was mortal. She was Jeanette. Jeanette Monet. And We met at, um, hell, I honestly don't remember. I think it was at a party maybe? Or at school?... At school, was it? I'm not sure.”

He squinted at the past, remembering. “There was a fairly large group of us who would hang out all the time at school. Seemed like someone was constantly throwing a party at someones house or else we were all just, like, hanging out in the lobby at school and stuff.”

That sounded odd to Me. “Hanging out in the lobby?”

“Yeah,” Elric explained, His tone brightening. “It was so much fun!”

“Fun? Hanging out in a lobby?”

“Well, not a lobby. That's not the right word. It was a huge atrium, actually.” He clarified.

Apparently, the look on My face still reflected some incredulity, because He elaborated, “You don't understand. It was a blast! We were all the same. We were all like, this big crew of directionless slackers. We had no idea what the hell we were doing with our lives. Most of us just took classes at school to have an excuse to hang out with each other and slack off. It was fantastic. Just lounging around on couches and crap in the foyer/atrium/whatever. I know the administration didn't like our gang too much. We spent more time in that atrium than in classes.”

That made Me chuckle.

“I did a great puppet show behind one of the couches once. You should have seen it.”

I laughed even harder when He said that. “What!? A puppet show? You had puppets in college?... Was this a “special school” You went to? Did You take the bus with the strawberry-flavored windows?”

He laughed. “Fuck off! I was not on the short bus! I had My Own car, thank You.”

“Okay, puppet boy.”

“Oh, shut it! It wasn't like marionettes or some shit. It was hand puppets.”

I giggled, “Ohhh. Okay. So that's better? Mr. Dark And Brooding Vampire was doing hand puppet shows!?”

“Hell, yeah! I wasn't Mr. Dark And Brooding Vampire back then. Bitch. I had a sense of humor once, You know.” He winked. “And, yes, it was a hand puppet show because, well, I didn't have real puppets.” Elric smiled.

“Was it any good?” I asked.

“I don't know,” He shrugged. “Nobody really paid any attention to me doing it.”

With that revelation, I was howling with laughter. “So, you're like this young adult man. In college. Doing a hand puppet show. Behind a couch. In the school atrium. Dozens of your friends are around, just hanging out. And not one person is watching you making your hands talk to each other?”

“Yep. That's pretty much it.”

“That's brilliant! Loser.” I was laughing so hard, I think I actually snorted.

“Oh, screw You! I could have had a very promising career as a puppeteer. If only hateful fools like You hadn't dashed all my hopes and dreams.”

I tickled Him, “Puppeteer? Dorketeer, more like. Fucking puppeteer with no audience.”

Elric grinned, “Hey, that sounds like a great title for My memoirs. The Puppeteer With No Audience.”

“Memoirs. Right.” I rolled My eyes.

“No, seriously, I am writing some.”

“Gay.”

“I know,” He conceded. “That word sounds fucking gay. I think I'll call them “noctuaries” instead of memoirs.”

“Noctu-whaties?” I asked.

“Noctuaries. A noctuary is a journal which is only written at night. Appropriate for a creature like Us, don't You think?” He flashed that charming smirk.

That piqued My curiosity. “Seriously? You are? You're writing a journal?”

“Yeah. I'm nearly finished.”

“How can You be writing memoirs and I never knew about it? We're together, like, constantly.”

He snickered and did a flaming twink impression, “Honey, a girl has to have Her secrets! And it's not a memoir. Gay.”

“Whatever! So what's in them? They better than your puppet show?” I joked.

He crinkled His nose at Me, “Yes, little brat! They're better than the puppet shows. I'm totally a better writer than a puppeteer.”

“So You think. Get Thee back to yon puppets, Shakespeare!”

He conceded, “Eh. Good point.”

“So what are You writing about?”

“Everything. Mostly about My life since Camillia.”

I had to ask, “Am I in it?”

He frowned. “Are You kidding? Of course You are. Most of the story revolves around You.”

I don't know why, but that really surprised Me.

“Really?! It's all about Me?”

“No! Sheesh, what a freakin' ego You have!”

I laughed. He was right.

“It's not all about You.” He explained, “I said most of it is about You. You were the inspiration to start it, really.”

“I was?” Now I wasn't being egotistical, but sincerely humbled.

“Of course.” He looked into My eyes and spoke with His genuine princely charm, “You're the most important soul in My life, Hel. Obviously. Corny as it may sound, as We love each other over the centuries, I guess I just wanted to preserve these times when We first met. So I'd never forget.”

I kissed Him again. I believed Sasha would always be more important to Him than Me. But I loved Him for lying about His feelings.

“I'd love to read it.”

“You will,” He said. “When I'm finished with it.”

“You think You might get Anastasia?”

He looked totally baffled. “What?”

“You said You wanted to remember these times. Why would You forget? You think You'll forget and get Anastasia?”

Elric started laughing a deep belly laugh which shook My whole body as I laid against Him.

“Am I using the wrong word again?” I asked.

Wiping His eyes, He said, “Yes.”

“No! Anesthesia! I mean anesthesia. Right?” I corrected.

Elric laughed even harder. “No. No, baby.”

“Well, then what is it?”

He could barely speak. “Amnesia. You're trying to say amnesia.”

“Oh!” I said. “Well, what are the other ones?”

“Anastasia is a girl's name and anesthesia is what doctors use to knock people out for surgery.”

“Oh. Well, I was close!”

“I love You.” He said, and kissed Me.

I loved that He accepted Me as I am. He never looked down on Me, even when I said something stupid. I know he was older and smarter and more experienced than Me. That's part of why I always wanted to be mature and intelligent for Him. When I make silly vocabulary mistakes like that, I was always embarrassed. Even if He laughed and teased Me a little, I always loved that He treated Me with dignity.

“You're not really going to call it The Puppeteer With No Audience?”

He laughed. “No. Of course not. I'm thinking I'll just call it The Gothic Rainbow.”

“You sure? That's even more gay. We should really change the name of the club.”

“Oh, fuck you! Why?”

“I dunno. Kinda corny. The name is a bit of a cliche, don't You think?”

Elric shrugged. “A bit dated, perhaps. But the inspiration was sheer poetry. Can't change a classic, honey.”

I didn't give the name much thought beyond that. In fact, I kind of forgot about it until I wrote this. Honestly, I was still so shocked and flattered that He was writing a book about Me, I forgot what a huge tangent We went on. Suddenly, the topic of Jeanette popped back into My mind.

“Oh! So, Jeanette?” I said.

Elric clearly hadn't been as distracted and started His story right back up again. “Well, yeah, so Jeanette, er, I mean, Jacqueline was a part of that whole scene of friends.” Elric explained.

Suddenly, His eyes lit up.

“Wait! That's right! Now I remember. It was at an artshow that we met. She did illustrations for a book that Sasha's father had written. We met at the release party. I totally forgot about that, it's been so long.” Elric looked stoic. Somehow He appeared both happy and entirely ashamed of forgetting.

Continuing, Elric said, “She didn't make much money doing art. She also worked Downtown at some skate shop in the mall. Well, of course I didn't know She was a fucking wealthy ancient vampire.”

Elric paused, remembering.

For a moment, the haze of memories fogged frantic in His eyes. “That was the night I was Turned!”

He looked at Me, as if expecting Me to say something.

“Hel, her dad - Sasha's dad - mentioned Jacqueline to Me the night I died. She was out at a movie. Sasha's dad told us about Her that night! I had totally forgotten about that!”

I could see the expression on His face change. He was reliving these happy memories and suddenly mortified by what lies they had been hiding.

“Weird.” I noted.

“Yeah. You know, looking back,” He said, “She never seemed unusual. I mean, I never even suspected. I mean, obviously, I didn't suspect anyone was vampir when I was mortal. After I became immortal, I mean. Even then, I never looked back and thought - ”

He stopped.

Lost in memories.

I squeezed His hand and implored Him to continue. I didn't want Him to get upset again by dwelling on things. I figured if He kept the story moving, He'd be okay.

“Go on,” I said. “So You met Jacqueline at a show?”

He shook His head to dispel His consternation. “Yeah. I mean, honestly, there's not much to tell. That's... that's the weird part. I mean, She was just some hot, older, blonde chick who hung out in our scene. She was like 30, but I honestly thought She was about 19 - like my age. Very youthful. In fact, I went to a birthday party for Her once at The Powerhouse in The Flats. We never really talked much. Maybe half-a-dozen phonecalls. I never hung out with Her outside of that group of people. I'd just randomly see Her at parties and concerts and that sort of thing. I mean, I keep looking, I keep searching My memory for something that might have stood out or, I dunno, something that made Her unusual. But, there just isn't anything. She was just some ordinary, cute girl in our group.”

He looked at Me and frowned.

“Maybe that's part of why this whole fucking “melodrama revelation bullshit” has Me so freaked out. You know? Because, I mean, She wasn't anything special. She was just - ... How could Someone so insignificant change My life in a way more drastic than anyone could ever imagine?”

The more I thought about things, the less weird and freaky it sounded. I know Elric was still wigging out, so I tried to reassure Him. “Well, maybe We're overreacting.”

My fingers absently stroked His hair.

“How so?”

I tried to spell things out as simply as possible. “Jacqueline Turned You. She felt guilty. She asked Camillia for help. Camillia took credit for Turning You. Ashamed of what She had done, Jacqueline kept Her existence hidden from You all these years. Once She discovered that You had Turned Your first mortal, Me, She felt it was an appropriate time to reveal the truth. That really all sounds reasonable to Me. I mean, what I'm trying to say is, maybe things aren't as deceptive and sinister as We are making them out to be.”

I wanted to believe that.

I sort of did believe it.

Until Elric said something I wished He hadn't.

“And what about Dini's boyfriend?”

“What do You mean?”

“He had no motive. No reason to do something so violent.” Elric said. “What if He was helping Jacqueline and - ”

“ - Elric, stop. You know there are just evil people in the world. They need no motives. They just like to hurt something beautiful.”

“Maybe.” He didn't sound convinced.

I had already lived a life of being hurt by monsters. I knew they were real. Disguised as people. Demons playing at human beings. “Wait. Listen to Me. Camillia changed Your memory to make You think She was Your Sire. She completely wiped away all memories of Jacqueline. Maybe the whole incident of being attacked that night never quite happened like that either. Dini's boyfriend may have never been there. I mean, maybe it was - ”

Furious, He interrupted Me.

“ - Dini is dead, Hel! Sasha was raped in front of Me and lost Her mind for months. You're going to tell Me that was all bullshit? Fuck you! Don't tell Me it didn't really happen!” He was instantly simmering with rage.

“No, no! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! No! I didn't mean it like that. You're right. You're right. Of course it happened. I - I just think You may be - Well, maybe You're being paranoid about things. Maybe there was more to it. Or less to it. Or... I don't know. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say.”

I felt really stupid for upsetting Him like that. I really need to think before I fucking talk sometimes.

“What the fuck? How the fuck could You say - ”

“- I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I just meant maybe Your memories of Dini's boyfriend were changed too. That's all. That's all I was trying to say. I'm sorry. It came out all wrong.” I pleaded and cowered. He had every right to be insulted. I just hope He realized I hadn't meant it the way it came out.

Thankfully, We were close enough that He knew better than to think I'd be so mean. Mellowing out at My apology, Elric continued, “I know. I know, You'd never try to hurt Me like that. Just fucking think before You talk sometimes.”

That was kind of rude of Him to add. But I didn't blame Him. He was right and I didn't want to fight. “You're right. I'm sorry. That was stupid. I'm sorry, okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiled and was more sincere than I dared to hope.

“Forgive Me?”

“Yes, My Love.” He smiled warmer.

Mercifully, Elric got the topic back on track, saying, “I'm sorry too. I'm just tense from all this shit getting dropped on Me. After falling for such a huge lie, I'm just worried to - to trust anything.” Elric glanced down at Me, “You said there may be more to it or less to it. Well, the idea of there being more to it or less to it is exactly what has Me so freaked out.”

That was understandable.

He continued, “There are other lies out there, Hel. Every instinct in Me tells Me there are. And after what was revealed to Me tonight, I haven't the slightest idea what things are lies and what are not. Don't You see? It's not what Jacqueline told Me that has Me nervous. It's questioning what else I haven't been told. What other memories aren't truly My Own? How much of what I remember is real?”

I said, “You're worried about what else might be a lie.”

“Precisely.”

He had a very valid point.

Thinking about it in those terms started to freak Me out all over again too. I could see why He was so upset over this. “Well, that's reasonable. But I don't think We're going to discover those answers by making out in a cemetery.”

Now, I didn't want anymore questions or answers. All I wanted was to get off the topic and I hoped that would make Him smile. It did.

“Hey, You're the One Who started that.”

A warm and comfortable silence fell between Us. After the moon had moved between other trees, Elric spoke.

“Can I ask You something? How long have You known?”

“Known?” I puzzled.

“How long have You known about her?”

I understood then. “Sasha?”

He nodded with His eyes closed.

He loved her so deeply, I think it hurt for Him to even hear her name spoken aloud.

“How long have I known that You still visit her?”

He didn't say a word. Just gave a pursed grin.

I wasn't sure how to answer Him.

I knew the answer, but My jealousy of Sasha made it hard for Me to say it aloud.

“I knew the first time I saw Your face.” I told Him. “The first time I followed You to Sasha's place, I thought she was some random Pawn You planned to toy with. But the moment I caught the look in Your eyes, I knew she wasn't. I knew she was different. I knew exactly who she was.”

Elric's brow furrowed with curiosity.

“How so?”

I tried to mask My envy as I said, “You haven't spoken of Sasha very much. But when You do, there - there is a light in Your eyes which isn't there at any other time. That light is in Your eyes when You visit her too. I knew who she was right away - the second I saw Your face.”

Elric didn't respond. He just breathed heavily - one sigh after another. Like He was about to say something, but kept changing His mind, unable to find the words. Small grins flashed across His lips, then vanished. As though He were happy and appreciative about My observations, yet too emotional to comment upon what I had seen.

Finally, He simply said, “Yeah... Yeah.”

He nodded a bit, and sighed a bit more before smiling. “I'm sorry. You know, I, um, You know I love You more than - ”

“ - Oh, stop.” I interrupted. “You don't have to do that.”

“I just want You to know how much I cherish You.”

I grumbled, “Listen, I will admit that I'm a bit jealous of Your feelings for Sasha. Okay? Actually, a lot jealous. But at the same time, I never have a shred of doubt about what We mean to each other. I don't have any insecurity with You. Our love is eternal. You are My prince. I know this. You made Me immortal, not her.”

Smiling warmly, Elric chose His words carefully and said, “You know, Hel, I'm willing to bet there's a different light in My eyes, which isn't there at any other time, when I think of You too.”

That made Me so happy to hear - not because I doubted Him or needed such reassurance, but because I simply never considered that possibility before. He was right. The way Elric looked at Me was something no boy ever did before or since.

“True,” I grinned. “I love the way You see Me. You make Me feel there is no other girl on earth.”

“There isn't. I am Yours forever.” He kissed My forehead.

“Why didn't You tell her? How could You love her so much and never go to her?” I asked.

Elric looked at Me as if I were crazy. Yet, He spoke to Me in a tone that was gentle. He knew I hadn't given the question as much thought as He had. He answered, “Because she would hate what I am, Hel. I seduce people to feed on their blood. I fuck Camillia everynight. I've seen Allyson torture people to death and I let it happen. You really think an ex-girlfriend, a mortal, would approve of all that?”

I finally got it. He was lying.

I gasped. “You thought she was dead, didn't You?”

He hesitated.

Something in His eyes looked both surprised and pleased that I had seen into His heart so easily.

“Yes.” He nodded. “I didn't find out until weeks later that she was still alive.”

That was the real reason He kept His distance! That was why He had never revealed Himself to her! He couldn't bear to take her life once He learned she had survived their horrible ordeal.

Before I could talk about it anymore, He changed the subject and said, “You know, maybe You're right. Maybe We are blowing things out of proportion with Jacqueline. I mean, the whole story does make sense. Jacqueline had a crush on Me. She turned Me after finding Me beaten up in Her backyard. She felt guilty. Camillia took the blame to help Her sister. Jacqueline vanished, to remain out of My life, because She was wracked with guilt and thought I'd hate what I have become. Once She found out about You, She was less worried about Me being full of self-loathing, so She felt it was the opportune moment to confess the truth to Me.”

Reviewing it step-by-step in His head seemed to make Him feel better. I know it did for Me, anyhow. At least I wanted it to.

“Sounds reasonable to Me.” I shrugged, even though I didn't believe it. I was still worried about the other lies We instinctively knew were out there.

“You remember that night after Your Homecoming Dance? When We were sitting out in front of Your school and You started asking Me about why Camillia had turned Me?” Elric asked, His arm propped in the snow as He turned toward Me.

I was embarrassed that He had brought it up and groaned, “Yeah. I remember. I wouldn't shut up about it and totally made You uncomfortable. I'm sorry. That was stup - ”

“ - No, no. It's okay. I just - I'm bringing it up because it's relevant. I mean, now You're starting to see what I meant. Nothing feels right, Hel. The kind of crap that I learned tonight is... Well, now You see why I have never questioned much. Now You see why I get uncomfortable. I mean, I was dying. Camillia saved My life. That was good enough for Me. But, I'm not stupid, My Love. Naturally, there was no reason whatsoever for Her to do that. Why the fuck would some immortal Vampire Queen save the life of a dying mortal She had never met? What possible motive did She have? It never made any sense.” He sighed, “I'm not stupid. I always knew, there was more to the story. I just didn't dare ask.” He nodded at Me as He finished.

I didn't say much for a long time. The full implications of His words sank in slowly.

He was afraid.

Afraid to learn the truth.

Who could blame Him?

But I didn't want to think about My badass vampire Husband being afraid of anything. Nevertheless, I said, “Yeah. I can see where that would be a wise decision on Your part. To not question too much, that is.”

And now I'm caught up in it too. Fucking great.

I don't know why, but in that moment, my train of thought instantly changed. “Hey, did I ever show You My grave?”

“Your? What? What the hell are You talking about?”

“My grave. You know I have one in here.”

“You have a grave here in Lakeview?” Elric asked.

“Yeah.”

He was truly confused. “Why? Does Your family think You died and they - ”

“ - No. Of course not. You know I'm still a “missing person” to them.” I scoffed. “I mean I actually bought a plot. In this cemetery. I have My Own gravesite.”

He looked at Me as if I was sucking a horse penis. “You do? At 16 You bought a gravesite? That's... pretty warped, sweetie.”

“Yep. Well, 14 actually, when I bought it. I was 14. Of course it's kinda warped. That's why You love Me.”

“No. I love You for countless reasons. Being warped is just one of them. My little fucked up psycho goth chick. I'm just glad You'll never need it.”

“True.”

Elric licked Me. “The thought of that warm body You have, with all its sweet curves and caresses, would have turned cold and rotting in the earth is an inconceivable and horrifying concept.”

“Well, when You put it like that, it's pretty gross.”

“Don't worry, baby. Thanks to Me, You'll remain hot and fuckable forever.”

“That's what You meant by fucked up psycho goth chick? I'll keep getting fucked?”

Elric laughed, “Well, that too.”

“Yes, I know. I'm such the cliche. Little goth girl falling for the vampire boy.” I swooned.

“That's only a cliche in movies and books and shit. In real life, it doesn't happen quite so often.” He laughed.

“True. I guess I'm lucky then.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Speaking of which.”

“What?”

“Shhh... Listen.” He pointed down the ravine to the sepulchers below the dam.

∞ ∞ ∞

Five teenagers. Snuck into the cemetery for a midnight scare. Up to no good and looking for trouble.

My Lover and I were happy to oblige.

No mortal could have heard them from where We were. Hundreds of feet away, We turned to the shadowslip and flowed down the hillside like so much sinister smoke and shade.

The laughter of the children faded as We approached.

Mortal dread stirred them to silence.

They could feel Our presence. Something wasn't right. Something was watching them from the trees. Something that wasn't supposed to be real. Something that the collective unconscious of all humans has come to fear over thousands of generations. Something their primal hearts all knew existed, but never dared to admit.

My Love, still the shadow.

I, the white wolf.

“Listen,” one of the girls said to her friends.

Straining, they looked in Our direction.

Out of the dark We emerged, Elric bursting forth in a billowing wave of black horror.

“Run.” His voice boomed while still a shadow.

The teens screamed and cursed, flying as fast as mortal feet would carry them through the thick snowdrifts, over gravestones, up hillsides, between trees. Clamoring. Panicking. Shrieking. Shouting.

As the wolf, I towered by Elric's side. Fur pure as the driven snow surrounding Us. Ready to hunt.

His dark hand, cool under the scruff of My neck. My fangs bared, ready for the kill. For the passion of dirt and leaf underfoot and My paws to tear into the earth and nature herself does quiver at the power of My gait.

“Patience, My Darling.” Elric commanded.

Yes, My Beloved. To give chase too quickly robs Me of the pleasure of the hunt. Best to give them a head start. Give them hope. For it is by the murder of their prayers of salvation that the greatest pleasure of their demise is relished.

Allow them to think they have a chance.

Only to discover no god will protect them from My fury.

My muscles pulsed under My fur. I was ready.

Elric sensed My eagerness. He dug His hand into My neck, holding Me back for a moment.

“Patience.” He repeated.

The children had gotten further away. Three up the hill towards the Garfield Monument and two down the valley towards Wade Chapel.

Impatient, I growled and looked at My Husband once more.

Slowly, He grinned.

“Hunt.”

And so to the hunt and the fever of snow. The scent of bark on winter dead trees and the crush of leaves under ice.

How the children do clamor and cry, struggling to run up the hillsides. Weaving around shrubs and brambles and panting among tombstones.

The trail through the snow led up to the Rockefeller obelisk.

I approached in silence.

The ice of a snowman with a ballerina's soul.

“What was that?” One boy whispered to another, hidden behind the white marble. Breath steaming on chill wind.

“Shut up! It'll hear you!” Another scolded, his breath fogging on the cold night air even more.

“Where's Jenna and Madylin?” The third boy asked, in the quietest whisper of all.

There are those who have forgot the magick, both light and dark. Them that forget, live in their fancy houses and towering highrises, surrounded day and night by steel and concrete and glass and carpet and all manner of things which be helping shield them from the remembering. Were they to step into the underbrush and find the scent of rain and honeysuckle in their nostrils, to feel the mosses and cool stone of woodland boulders beneath their fingertips, to taste the springfresh water of a stream across parched lips, to hear snow crunch under barefeet and soles toughen to the icy cold, there would they start to remember that the magick lives far beyond the asphalt and automobiles within which they have encased themselves from the true nature of the world. For magick, you see, is the true nature of the world. All the islands of concrete and steel are a miniscule oasis in the vast expanse of the dreaming wold. Living without magick is the illusion, for magick can never be denied. Thus does the presence of My Siabrah soul remind them. Dragging them back into the dark forest. Something old. Something primal. Something they know is real despite all the denial they build around themselves, to sever their minds from knowing the magick. Minds young and naive as toddlers, for they are sons of sons who have forgotten and forgotten more still, and none have ever taught them the true nature of Our nightwind.

When one returns to the heart of magick, the remember time gets easy. Living in artificial landscapes of steel mountains and brick rivers and office buildings, people forget the magick ways. They replace the bonfire glow of mystic storytelling and tribal dance with television glows and spiritless visions. In the confines of their magickstarved rooms, they begin to believe crazy thoughts, like denying the magick exists at all.

Snow began to fall, and dissolved out of a snowflake fog, I appeared.

Towering and hell flame eyes I snarled.

Frozen with shock, one boy shook his head, “Can't be. It can't be. Can't be real.”

Leaping towards him, I ripped out his throat in a single bite. As his friend screamed, My massive paw pinned him to the ground, cracking his ribs as I crushed his corpse into the snow.

The blood I drank deep and honeydew. Spiced of fear and terror it gushed warm down My throat and matted fur perfumed.

The third boy ran off in tears and horror. I could have let him go, so he'd always have a story to tell, which none would ever believe.

Instead I followed silently.

He ran frantically over graves and lost his footing in the dark, twisting an ankle on a tombstone over and again. Patches of ice on the roadway. Buried headstones under snow. All served to trip him up as he fled like a terrified child.

No easy feat, he scaled the cemetery fence next to the Mayfield Road gates. Had it not been fleeing for his life, I doubt he would have had the fortitude to achieve such a stunt.

Crying and delirious with horror, he ran to his car which had been parked on Kenilworth and fumbled for his keys, shaking like an electroshock patient.

Returning to human form, I stepped from the shadows.

“Don't be afraid.” I said calmly.

The boy yelled out, then collapsed against his car. He still hadn't managed to find the correct key to open the door since he was shuddering so badly.

He sighed, “I... Oh, I thought You were... something... something else.”

“Oh?” I asked, calmly. “What did you think I might be?”

Looking both confused and embarrassed, the boy said nothing. His mind was still in denial - reeling over the fact that he had just seen a giant white werewolf murder his friends. None of this could truly be happening. Could it?

“I... I don't...” His voice trailed off and he began looking over his shoulders again, expecting the wolf to jump out from behind another car or some bushes or one of the nearby apartment alleyways.

“When I was a little girl,” I told him, “I often practiced dream control. I became quite good at it too. Read many books on the subject.”

My canines grew long, “Many cultures teach that during a nightmare, one should summon dream friends to assist in defeating whatever is pursuing you.”

Looked at Me, scared and confused, he didn't say a word. His mind unable to understand what was happening. I giggled, “Now, had this been a dream, this would have been the perfect time for you to ask for help.”

Obviously, he hadn't read the books.

I stared into the distance behind him. “Hey,” I said, squinting and pointing, “What is that?”

He spun around in a flash, intently surveying the snowy road.

While his back was turned to Me, I again transformed into the form of the white wolf.

“What?” The boy asked in a panic. “What did You see? Where was it? Is it still after Me?”

When he turned back towards Me, the scream caught in his throat and although his mouth was open to shout, nothing more than a squeal came out of his lips.

As the wolf, I stood before him again.

I fed and savored the cream that fear gives to the blood of dying boys.

∞ ∞ ∞

Elric had pursued the two girls down the ravine into Wade Memorial Chapel. One girl, Jenna, stood over the body of Madylin, attempting to revive her as she was laying, sprawled across the alter.

“Madylin, sweetie? Mady? Wake up!” Her voice was hushed and frantic. “Please. Please wake up!”

Snowcharged moonlight reflected through the Tiffany stained glass of The Flight of Souls, shimmering across the wall mosaics.

- their children also shall be dashed to pieces before their eyes; their houses shall be spoiled, and their wives raped -

Suddenly noticing Me standing against the back wall of the chapel, Jenna implored Me, “Help! Help us.”

Nervously, she glanced up at the ceiling, “He came from up there. He was shadows. It - ”

Jenna's voice trailed off as I slowly walked towards them and My beloved Elric materialized out of My Own shadow behind Me.

Grinning, I asked, “Is this what you were looking for?”

We walked together, holding hands down the aisle.

Jenna backed away, crying. Clamoring against the wall beneath the stained glass window.

Elric now the black wolf.

Hunting.

Circling.

The girl screamed and looked back and forth between Him and I.

“Werewolves? Vampires?” The girl mumbled her acataphasia, in a panic. She didn't believe or understand what she was seeing. She wasn't even aware that she was talking.

“You've seen too many movies, little girl. Don't you understand We are all the same Creature? Vampir. Werewolf. Fallen angel. The Unseelie Court. We are all the same Children of the Night.”

Dark things be called by many names the world over. No matter what name You be giving to gyre and gloaming faerietime, they still be haunting thee to the bone. The devils don't care by what name thous summon them. They hear thy call regardless.

Elric continued to circle, blood glistening across His lips. Building Jenna's fear like a violin anguish. I spoke disgusted, “You ignorant mortals name the Beast only by the facets you see. Yet, in truth, you simply call the same Beast by many names. We are Legion. We are Many.”

Elric pounced and pinned her to the floor. Her head made a hollow thwack as her skull hit the tile and she winced with pain.

When My beloved Elric wrote His noctuary, He would speak of feeding with such poetry. Even the most deviant of sexual lust was always written with a sense of grace. He never became vulgar. He was always a polite and cordial gentleman, describing coital passion in ways that were always dreamspun ambiguous and haze.

Boys are such liars.

Why make the sex sound so pretty? Sex was never beautiful because it was soft and tender. The beauty of being penetrated is raw and rough and hard and hurtful. As I watched Him plunge both His cock and fangs into Jenna as she screamed on the floor, My heart raced and My thighs grew tight. I loved not only to see Him be so beastly, but to be so vulgar.

He was never a gentleman.

He was so beautiful when He was brutal.

Despite what lies He would have you believe, We Creatures are not sweet and gentle and romantic. For a mortal to have her lifeblood drained from her body was beyond dread and pain. This was not romantic just because her eyes were closed. Jenna was in hell, not heaven. We are not Beings to show compassion. Elric certainly wasn't that night. Neither did I, to the boys lying dead in the snow. My darling Elric and I are like all dark abominations of legend; We are rage and cruelty incarnate; We are the inspiration for centuries of demons and imps and tales of fallen spirits.

And the way He fucked her was so vile as to be gorgeous.

Rape was an art in the hands of My Lover.

When Elric described it, He never dared call it that. No. He made it sound like a surreal nightmare. Like a half remembered dream. And while We may make mortals forget Our attack and alter the perceptions of their anguish, the truth is, We are still monstrosities. We are still fiends. And when Elric slammed His beautiful dick deep into the bloody cunt of that little bitch, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much she cried, she secretly loved being a whore to My devil.

Take it, bitch.

You know you want it.

This is how you want to die. Screaming.

As He fed from her to edge of her death, and their fucking reached a fevered rhythm, I could see her horror turn to desire in the drops of her final tears. Watching the creamy white of her skin, trimmed with the bloody red handprints of Elric, as she bucked her hips back into Him. Her own orgasm rippled across her face, mixed with guilt and fear like a caged animal.

This was His power of seduction.

Not sweet passion.

Rather making her an instrument of her own demise.

Blood tricking from her labia, I knew the unconscious Madylin had succumb to the ravages of Elric just the same. How much more exquisite it must have been for Jenna, knowing she was to be next for such horror.

Without even realizing it, My fingers had slipped into My panties as I watched. His sweet cock her viaticum.

You may question how I could envy His love for Sasha, and yet be aroused when I watched Him fuck this slut right in front of Me.

Do You think it's because He loved Me?

Do You think it's because a mortal is just cattle to We vampires?

No.

It's because no matter how she moaned, Elric always raped Me better.

He knew how to make Me cry. He knew how to make Me hurt. He knew how to make the pain drip from My neck like hornet stings.

Five suns could traverse the sky for the pleasure of His torment.

Ripped panties dripped off the lectern.

Madylin stirred.

Slivers of eyes opened as she watched her friend being defiled.

Madylin's lips turned into a barely noticeable smile and gently shed a tear of jealousy.

∞ ∞ ∞

There was once a time when I imagined I'd loath to take a life. Such shame I'd feel. No human being deserves to die like that.

But as Elric was quick to remind Me, not all people are human beings. Many are devils darker than We. Many deserve to die in blood and horror. And as Angels of Death incarnate, We possess every right to pass such final judgments on any soul We will. Those who deny the dark are consumed by it. Once I understood the curse of life eternal, the beauty of dying became a gift I bestow.

Elric learned this too.

He called Me His Eve. His Lilith. Drawing Him to the true dark.

But that night, He let the girls live.

They would find the bodies of their boyfriends in the snow on their way back to the car.

No one else ever would.

Dark courtiers of the faerie Host slinked near. I motioned towards one and pointed at the nearest body. Shadows swept around the corpses and drew them unto the netherworld.

Elric slithered thin as the shadows of daddylonglegs.

I felt Him everywhere.

Chapter Five

Allyson had retired for the day, but Camillia was still awake when We got home.

I hate getting home late.

Simply knowing the deadly promise which awaits by the light of day unsettles Me. I prefer being back in the safe lair of Our mansion with plenty of time to spare. Elric didn't seem phased by cutting it close. I've never let on how much it freaks Me the fuck out.

I blame Allyson. Allyson is just like Elric - fucking crazy.

I think She's a bad influence on Him.

Anyway, like I said, being too close to sunrise scares the piss out of Me. Never had I witnessed the sort of horrific death One of Our Kind experiences in the sunlight. Although, I had heard Their screams. I never want to make a sound like that.

∞ ∞ ∞

Camillia was clearly waiting for Us when We got home. A concerned Mother.

The estate itself breathed with Her. So much melancholy stone and the tenebrous and blackened tan of earthen walls and leaden windowpanes. Cold as the bones of graven arctics. The great house like Her cloak, spread from feet to valley.

“Are You okay?” Camillia asked, standing in the main doorway of the estate. “Please forgive Me. Please understand. I - I never meant to hurt You. I was only trying to help My Sister.”

She opened Her mouth, as if to add more, but stopped and regarded Elric's reaction instead. I had never seen Camillia look so sad or remorseful. Maybe We had misjudged Her. Maybe She really was sorry for the way things turned out.

Elric nodded, “Where is Jacqueline? She here?”

“No. She went home.” Camillia explained. “She still has Her other place.”

Not knowing how to reach Her, Elric asked, “Can You have Her come by tomorrow? We need to talk - ”

“ - It's already arranged. She'll be here.” Camillia began to answer before Elric had even finished speaking. She had been expecting His request. Apparently, so had Jacqueline.

Elric looked perturbed.

Understanding, Camillia explained, “If You didn't want Her to come, I was to let Her know.”

Elric took a moment to react, lost in thought and for a moment or two, not fully aware of what Camillia had said. Then a brief nod of acknowledgment and He turned to Me.

With that, We journeyed to the bed chambers in silence.

∞ ∞ ∞

Elric never fell asleep.

A short time later, He was pacing in the firelight of the winter room. Quietly, He sat before the flames. I stared at Him for a long time, through the lace of the canopy bed. The flicker of firelight and shadows across the spiderweb linens made Him look hazy. Even though He was just a few feet away, it was like watching Him from a great distance.

Camillia stirred next to Me.

Ages seemed to pass. I found Myself trying so hard to think of what to say to Him. How to console Him? What words of comfort might I offer?

I loved when We had deep conversations. He always had that mythic knack of serendipity where the things He could say seemed so dreamlike. As though He were an oracle of profound truths and insights which made almost no sense to the logical mind, but were completely understandable and intuitively comprehended subconsciously and to halfway dreaming thoughts. Wisdom with no conscious origin that, once said, anyone could tell was absolutely true, without really knowing why.

I couldn't imagine all that must have been on His mind. So much fear and betrayal swirling around His head. Confusion, most of all. Jacqueline came to Elric with revelations which taught Him nothing. On the contrary, this night had brought Him only questions and offered no answers.

That was when I began to imagine the night He started writing the first page of His Own memories, and thus began these vampire noctuaries. As I watched Him sit, I thought of the night when Allyson first mentioned Me to Him, and not yet knowing He would come to write...

“Allyson called it The Killing Game...”

At that moment, I slipped out of bed and curled up in His lap. I didn't say a word, because I finally realized there were no words of comfort I could say. Instead, I just nuzzled against Him and let Him pet My hair until We both fell into a deep, yet restless, slumber.

Chapter Six

Jacqueline DuBois was waiting for Elric in front of the estate the next evening, not long after the sun had set.

Standing against Her motorcycle, without a hello, She simply conceded, “That was a mistake. Last night, I mean. I'm sorry. I - I know it wasn't fair for Me to drop that on You. Not like that.”

As Elric and I walked down the grand staircase, I paused and sat on the steps, so He could approach Her alone.

“I could have handled it better.” Jacqueline added.

Elric regarded Her silently.

“I should have known better.” Jacqueline finished awkwardly.

“I'm glad You came,” Elric replied. His tone ignored Her apologies.

“Can We talk?” Jacqueline asked after a short pause. She looked at Me, Her gaze suggesting She wanted to speak to Elric in private.

As Elric walked nearer to Her, He explained, “Sure. We can talk. But where I go, so does Hel. Anything You tell Me, You say in front of Her too.”

I wasn't quite sure if He was doing that to impress Me or to make sure He had a backup in case any other unexpected surprises awaited Him. Maybe both? Either way, I was happy He did it.

He turned toward Me and offered His hand. Stoic and unemotional, I floated down the staircase and took hold of His arm. I didn't say a word - partially because I was annoyed that Jacqueline tried to get rid of Me and partially to defy what I saw as Her melodrama. Plus, I was just so damn proud of Elric for what He just said, I wanted to be regal and elegant for Him. I wanted to be classy.

Despite being so flattered, and even though I wouldn't miss this conversation for anything, I also wanted Jacqueline to think I didn't give a damn to be included. Just to irk Her.

Elric motioned Jacqueline towards the gardens. “After You.”

Jacqueline didn't argue the point of My inclusion nor the direction of Our walk.

“Of course.” Jacqueline conceded. She was being diplomatic and Her demeanor towards Me became more friendly when She realized there would be no compromise.

Bitch.

Gravel paths crunched underfoot.

I always loved a walk in the gardens. They were filled with so much darkness and mystery.

I hate describing them that way because it sounds so trite. “Darkness and mystery” does not do them justice. There is so much more to the intricate grottoes and grounds than simple mystery and shade.

Stone walkways. Ancient statues. Massive ponds and waterfalls. Towering arboretum glass. Deep pathways arched in hunter leaves of richest green. Docks of antiquated wood, mooring Styx longboats, bobbed next to lochs of the Chagrin River. Far from the orangeglow of leaden spiderweb windows.

One could always feel things watching from the shadows. The faerie swirls of spine tingling shudders and malevolent darkborn pixie wrath.

Had He still breathed, the air felt like the breath of Elric.

As if all the dread of Elric were surrounding Me, cool and comforting as His deathshroud. Even when I walked in them alone, a journey among the gardens always felt like I was being held safe and warm in His arms.

Nights like this one were unusually quiet.

Barely a wind. Distant chattering of darkling gnome and nixie mumbled the groan of elder trees.

We reached the center of My favorite garden aisle with nary a word spoken between Us. Once there, We sat by a whispering fountain with lilies in the water, surrounded by burgundy and black roses. Frost upon petals. All blooming in false life amidst the Glamour of Fae, even during the season of snow and dying. A Grecian statue of a woman with long hair, pulled up in a bun, was pouring water from a jar. More ornate than any fountain in Quinta da Regaleira.

I smiled lightly. Elric may have allowed Jacqueline to lead the way, but He still brought Us to the place, where He knew I was the happiest.

We had kissed and touched and made love and tasted the sweet blood of Each Other by the warmth of that fountain so many times. I remember the very first time He ever brought Me to those gardens and how We touched, Our skin become one. My mind drifted back to that night and all the pleasures it contained.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Come away. I need to show You something.” Elric lead Me out of the balcony, where I was learning “Stolen Child” by Loreena McKennitt on the harp. Never dreamed I'd get to learn something so elegant in a place so majestic.

The moonlit shadows of an ash tree plucked at the strings and continued the song, long after Elric and I departed the room.

“Where are We going?” I giggled as He pulled Me along, out into the Unseelie gardens.

He didn't say a word. Smiling, His eyes simply bade Me to follow.

Down cobblestone pathways We wandered. Through waters and wild. Past gurgling streams and toadstool rings. Over mossy rock bridges and bluebell ridges. Sculpted trees and shrubbery and colonnade statues of granite and quartz dotted gravel walkways which rolled and turned with the contours of the valley.

Now and then, Titania fireflies of autumn sparkled between black iron lanterns. Their oily flames illuminated the onyx night with orange frost. Light capped atop the moonglow amethystine glosses of the dark.

Hounds barked over distant hills and anxious children wept in their beds, for Changelings were abreast, snatching brothers and sisters to the world of tears. How the dark ones loved to watch from briar and brush. For in these hours did all manner of magicks swear fealty to their Host, and thereby, things were ever so lovely in the gardens.

Rounding a corner, behind the rose plumes and cherry trees, there sprang the glorious fountain, trimmed of frothy bubbles. Petals decorated the stone beneath Out feet like couril confetti.

Intricate pathways spilled into the dark of the grimwood and over arced viaducts in stone that appeared too elaborate and delicate to stand. To My soul it were as though all marvels beneath the moon stood in those very terraces, like an oasis of glee. Wondrous billowed atop wondrous as We meandered by beauty beyond beauty and joy reigned from crown to toes.

“Oh, Elric.” I sighed, overcome by the beauty of it all.

Sitting Me down aside the fountain, We moved close to each other. The stone bench of the fountain was smooth and warm to the touch. I reached into the waters and found them equally warm, but soft, like aloe and lace.

“It's so beautiful.” I reached out and touched His cheek. His flesh rugged under My fingers. “You are still a dream.”

“And still none of this beauty compares to Thee, My love. You have always been My dream.” His Own hand touched Me and My face melted into His palm.

So strong. Yet so gentle.

Pulling Me to Him, We kissed.

His lips were tender, yet forceful. As His succulent tongue met Mine, His free hand reached around My back and clawed down My spine.

I gasped and I felt the power of this grip across My back.

His touch could turn Me on instantly.

Every vertebrae of My bones shuddered with a shock straight into the base of My skull and ricocheted down into My thighs.

Both of My hands reached up and yanked His head backwards as My fangs scraped across His neck.

He growled and shoved Me.

I stumbled back on the bench and half fell into the fountain.

Water splashed as My palm smacked into the waters and cascaded onto the back of My hair. Nereid arms of midnight blue, scratched from the pool.

Regaining My composure, I snapped My gaze back on Him. His fangs glowed iridescent in the light reflecting off the waters as He grinned at Me.

Grinning back at Him, My heart raced faster.

Yes.

He wanted Me, just as I wanted Him.

No gentle lovemaking.

This would be the passionfire of blackened succubus souls.

Now to the rage. Now to the hate. Now to the odious fever.

Then it began.

In one blinding flash, He slammed His full weight atop Me and tore off My blouse. My shoulder blasted hard into the stone bench. Shrieking in pain, My fist backhanded Him across the face. He barely flinched.

Brutally, Elric rolled and forced Me to the ground, kissing Me harder than ever. I heard Myself moan and raked My hand across His chest. Fingers of werewolf malice, I ripped at Him over and over, until I finally tore the fabric apart and left gashes in His flesh.

He hissed and His tongue lapped at My throat, teasing with His fangs. Dragging Me to My knees, hands clamped around My neck and He pushed Me down. Clawing at His pants, I quickly had them undone. My skirt was ripped at the waist. I don't know if He had done it or if it was Me. I was shredding My panties aside as He slipped into Me and Our hips bucked together.

His cock was harder than He ever was in Our bedroom and He mercilessly bashed it far into Me. Penetrating deep into My pussy, I screeched like the distant hounds and buried My fangs far into His neck.

He moaned at the pain. Furious with Me and dizzy with My bite, He shuddered at the pleasure.

With every thrust into My cunt, His fucking cock seemed to get harder and bigger and deeper. My hair was wet from the fountain and splattering across the cobblestones. Around My neck, His grip grew stronger as He fucked Me. Choking Me as I drank from Him. The blood pouring down My throat, I gagged as He strengthened His grasp.

My thighs were burning. My heart searing with the shudder of My approaching orgasm and the intoxicating dream of His blood flowing into Me.

- whatsoever soul it be that eateth any manner of blood, even that soul shall be cut off from his people -

Just as I began to cum, He pushed up away from Me and spun Me around. Keeping Me just on the edge. My nipples bristled in the night air as His naked chest peeled off of My Own. How I loved the feel of His skin upon Mine.

Without a moment to gain My bearings, He entered Me from behind. I gasped at the sharp burn of that first thrust. The sound of the fountain, the color of the moonlight, the taste of blood, the baying of hounds, the melody of harpstrings, all exploded in My head at once. His cock submerged even deeper into Me and I screamed. I didn't even notice the pain of the cobblestones on My knees or the ache as My forearms bashed into the ground with each plunge.

Instead, I slammed My ass back into Elric, making sure every fuck buried His dick as deep as it could possibly go. I came again, almost instantly. Gripping a fistful of My hair, He nearly ripped it out of My skull as He yanked My head back. As the sting shot down My neck, I came a third time.

The darkness itself was aroused by Our seduction.

His carved muscles tensed as His Own orgasm sent blood down My inner thighs and it spilled out of My gore-wet pussy. Digging His claws into My shoulders, He tore flesh to muscle.

Fuck, that hurt.

Knocking Him off of Me from the wound, I screeched and spun around and sprang back to My feet.

Caught off-guard, He leapt back to His.

We stood facing each other. Panting. Clothes tattered. Blood coating His throat and chest. More splattered down Our legs.

“Asshole!” I jumped on top of Him, knocking Him back across the fountain. My claws dug into His chest.

Grinding My legs atop of Him, I pinned Him down and took Him back into Me. He bucked against Me like a caged beast. Pulling as far away from Him as I could, I let His cock slip almost all the way out of My pussy before I bashed My full weight onto Him again. Over and over I began to move like a machine of fury and poison.

I felt His thighs tighten.

More blood.

Spilling. Splashing. Flowing deep into Me as He came again.

Blood and water and moonlight and pain and pleasure.

Gluttonous upon such passions. I stand stoic. I am become the alabaster chatelaine and caterwauling whore. I do bid unto Him. Sidle as ghostwail music. Youthful bliss fades. Beasts wail with longing. Within raced the sickened devils to thieve the pulse of My life. There to plant briar and bramble and thorn, to cut and tear with shrill wooded blades. My breast pines with His hurt. The loathing He suppressed grew in dark pits I consumed for Him. As the arteries of rubies, My flesh chained in steel with pilings, far below the sands of the Apollyon pier.

We fucked three more times that first night. I lost count of how many times I came. We never did leave the gardens that evening. Our bodies covered in cuts and bruises and gashes from claws and fangs. Laying next to the fountain, We licked Each Others wounds and I fell in love with Him again and again as I replayed every detail of Our violent love in My head.

∞ ∞ ∞

I found myself irritated by the sound of Jacqueline's voice breaking that beautiful silence and the solitude of My daydreaming.

“It's been long decades since I walked these paths.” She said.

Elric and I said nothing.

I could see the conflict in His eyes.

Part of Him was eager to begin this conversation with Jacqueline and to learn the truth of what happened to Him. The other part of Him just wanted Her to go away, so He could fuck Me again and again in Our dark gardens by the fountain.

That made Me happy.

I would do anything for Him, as I know He would for Me.

Placing My finger to His lips, I gave Him permission to be silent with Me. I nodded toward Jacqueline, letting Him know, it was time to get His answers. I'll just listen. We can fuck later, I told Him using only a smirk.

Smiling back, He nodded.

Turning His attention to Jacqueline, He stared. Assessing Her.

“What happened that night, Jacqueline?” Elric asked.

He didn't want the answer. He just wanted to get this over with.

Jacqueline turned to face Us.

As much as I hate to admit it, the Woman was truly beautiful in the moonshine. The light of the heavens ran down Her blonde hair and flowed like mercury droplets skittering over spiderwebs.

Whore.

“Before I tell You where You came from,” She began, “I need to tell You where We came from.”

She motioned to the mansion, “My sisters. Allyson. Camillia. You need to know Our story before I can explain Yours.”

Elric nodded in understanding.

∞ ∞ ∞

The story Jacqueline told bored the shit out of Me, to be honest.

It was like a history lesson.

She went on and on for a fucking hour and explained a bunch of shit about French monarchs and her Celtic Gaul bloodline from Brittany and things I didn't care about at all.

She could have told the whole damn story in about 30 seconds.

Back in 1700 something or other, Jacqueline and her sister Allyson were born in France to Artimus and Morgan DuBois. Morgan died in childbirth with Allyson.

Their dad, Artimus, remarried a servant girl who was Blackfoot Indian. They had Camillia.

Artimus's father or grandfather or someone had the Unseelie Estate built in America and his brother oversaw the palace after it was completed. After the brother of Artimus died at the Unseelie Estate under mysterious circumstances, Artimus left France and moved his half of the DuBois family into the mansion.

Once at the estate, the small amount of local settlers enlisted Artimus to help kill a witch on a witchunt. That was actually a bit late in history to still have witchhunts, but they sometimes happened, much like the Szeged Trials in Hungary at the time. Since I've always been wiccan, that's about the only detail of this shit I remember. Anyway, turns out the witch in question had also killed the brother of Artimus, but Artimus was not aware of that until later.

The witch had a vampire lover only known as The Woodsman.

The Woodsman, vowing revenge for her death, Embraced Jacqueline five years later and killed the second wife of Artimus.

Artimus remained a widower the rest of his days.

In another five years, The Woodsman took Allyson.

Allyson gets buried alive for seventeen years. That explains a lot.

Camillia is Embraced about seventeen years after Allyson.

With that, The Woodsman had Turned every DuBois daughter and exacted His lifelong revenge on Artimus. The Woodsman waited decades to destroy the family, little by little, one daughter at a time, just to extend the number of years of sorrow Artimus would suffer. Just when Artimus thought his daughters were safe, he'd lose another.

That's fucking all. Don't ask Me why it took Jacqueline so damn long to tell that story. She gave every little fucking boring detail, going on and on about exact dates and French/American history and how and why the Estate was built and all sorts of other dull shit. I felt like another 200 years had passed, just listening to Her blather on.

“What happened to your father? Artimus?”, asked Elric.

∞ ∞ ∞

We stood before the grave of Artimus DuBois. The largest tomb in the DuBois cemetery.

“He died of a broken heart.” Jacqueline explained. “One month after Camillia was Turned, he had faded into a shell of a man. Camillia was his last remaining child. Once She was undead, my father had nothing to live for.”

Every so lightly, the sound of “Mornixuur” by Bel Canto lilted down through the breeze from Allyson's room back in the castle.

Elric stood staring at the grave and said nothing.

Slowly, He began to smile.

“Fate.” Was all He said.

“Fate?” I asked.

He nodded and looked at Jacqueline. “Random fate and chance. The entire curse upon Your family was random fate.” He let out a heavy sigh and His brow furrowed tightly, “And then I became a part of it.”

Guilt filled Her eyes and Jacqueline turned away. “Yes. Then fate lead You to Me.”

“Please understand,” Jacqueline implored Him. “My feelings for you were real. I know you never knew. You - you never knew what I thought of you. What I felt. I know I kept everything hidden from you. But...”

Her voice trailed off.

“I was so in love with you. You were good and kind and you just... You had a light to you that I had never seen. You were the opposite of everything I had become.”

I understood how She saw Him, and it pissed Me off.

I couldn't help but think of Our conversation about the light in His eyes. She wanted it too. Moth to the flame.

“That night. I knew you would die. You had been so hurt. You had lost so much blood. And...”

Elric nodded. “Fate. I was beaten and stumbled onto - ”

“ - Damnit, you came to Me for help!” Jacqueline started to weep.

Elric glanced at Me for an answer.

Why was She crying?

I was just as confused as He was.

Then, in one simple outburst, Jacqueline revealed the one little detail which She had kept hidden. The one thing which was the source of all Her guilt and torment. “This wasn't random fate! You weren't delirious! You knew exactly what you were doing.” Jacqueline cried.

Elric put the pieces together.

He spoke slowly as realization hit Him. “You didn't just change what I thought happened, You changed what I was feeling too. After they had beaten me senseless, I knew I had ended up in Your backyard! Didn't I?”

He began to remember. Little by little, the shards of a decade of glamour began to shatter, and He could gradually piece together what had truly happened.

Ashamed, Jacqueline stared at the snow. “Yes. Now You see the guilt I have carried? You came to Me because you needed Me. You came looking for Me. You were so... you were so relieved. Knowing that by some twist of serendipity, you had ended up at the house of a friend. Someone who could help you. Someone who knew you. When you staggered into My yard and and fell into My atrium, you knew it was My house. You knew where you were. And look! Just look at what I have done to You! To My one and only light! To the one boy I have met in three centuries who was decent and pure and true!”

Jacqueline wept with the guilt of a dozen years. Her awful secret.

Finally, everything She had hidden was there for Him to know.

Now it all made sense. The shock on Elric's face reflected My Own.

He hadn't been randomly attacked, then coincidentally ended up in the embrace of a vampire. He was randomly attacked and coincidentally ended up turning to a friend. After being thrown out of that van, he was still in the neighborhood he knew. He was right by Jacqueline's house.

“When I met you, something was different.” Jacqueline explained. “The way you carried yourself, how you spoke. You weren't like other boys I'd known. Nothing like other men. You were always special. Your heart was like some beautiful angel.”

Jacqueline nervously caught My eye, seeing Me staring daggers into Her.

This was bullshit.

Elric was many things, but I refused to believe that in 300 years, She had never fallen for anyone else.

Why would She adore him so much?

Soon, I would learn Her reason for that too.

Jacqueline wiped Her tears and turned away. “I was so ashamed of what I had done, My dear Sister Camillia took the blame for Me. I let Her look after You. And I ran. I ran away. Far away. So that You would never know the truth. So that I would never have to face the consequences of My sin.”

Elric felt My doubts, so He came right out and spoke them.

“Why Me?” Elric said.

Jacqueline knew what He meant. “Because you were there.”

“I don't understand.”

“I was never very good at The Killing Game, My Dear.” Her hands held a stone rail and She looked into the night. “Yes, I met other boys. Thousands. Fed from the throats of beautiful men and children. I never cared about them. I was always cold and distant. Treated them as nothing. I never felt a thing for humans.” She turned back to Elric. “But with You. To play a game? The more I pretended to be nice to you, the more those feelings became sincere.”

“Mere-Exposure Effect.” Elric muttered.

Jacqueline didn't understand what that meant. Neither did I.

Frowning, She added, “I guess. I spent so long disconnected from humanity, I forgot how nice it could be to feel something real. That's not the point of The Killing Game. Allyson sure had a shitty idea there.”

Jacqueline smirked, but not mirthfully.

Elric stood there stunned.

He looked at Me. Then back to Jacqueline.

His head was swimming and He finally saw what He was.

Nothing more than another Pawn.

Just like Me.

Spinning to face Me, He looked startled at the fact I existed. Reaching for My cheek, He touched Me tenderly. “With You it comes full circle.”

I understood exactly what He meant. “I was nothing more than a game, until You came to love Me.” I said.

His composure changed. For the first time, He softened towards Jacqueline. As much as He could hate Her, loathe Her for Her betrayal and for making Him what He had become, it now came to Him that She was no different than He was. Seeing Himself in Her, knowing She did exactly the same thing to Him as He had done to Me, He finally let His guard down a little.

“Oh, Jacqueline.” He took Her in embrace and She sobbed in His lap. I could see Her chest wince with the weight of Her remorse. This was the only time He had ever truly touched Her, and was obviously not the way She wanted it to happen.

For the first time, I wasn't angry or jealous. I only felt sorry for Her.

Elric was Her torment.

Just as Sasha was to Elric.

Love can never be bought, not even with your heart and soul. Jacqueline could never have Him, no matter what price She paid. The moment Jacqueline allowed Herself to feel something, to care at all for another, She destroyed him.

So maybe He never did love Sasha? No matter what He paid? Just as Sasha never loved her husband.

I could hope.

As the three of Us sat there in the gardens, the moon shifted between the trees. Jacqueline slowly composed Herself and sat up to look at Me. Awkwardly, She rose to Her feet and reached out Her hand to Me. I took hold and walked with Her. Not far from Elric, We stopped by a granite railing and looked over to a finely carved alto rilievo stone wall, sprinkled with deep ivy. “I'm sorry, Hel.”

Moonlight shivered down Her blonde hair, like milk mixed with mercury. She was a genuinely charming woman. I couldn't help but take pity on Her and asked, “What for?”

She shook Her head, “For trying to exclude You from this conversation. You see, I just didn't want to say all this in front of You. I know how much He means to You. I know You love Him and He loves You. Kind of awkward to, well, You know.”

I understood. “Kind of awkward to talk about how You fell in love with Him in front of His Bride.”

“Bride?” Jacqueline chuckled. “Oh, You are so much more than that to Him. To call You soulmates fails to do You justice. But, yes, You're right. So, I apologize. I wasn't trying to be rude.”

How could I help but warm to Her?

To call Us soulmates fails to do Us justice?

With statements like that, how could I not adore this Creature?

The truth is, She made Elric what He has become.

And thus, by extension, all I have become, I owe to Her as well. She created Him. He created Me.

If Elric be My Father, then Jacqueline be My Grandmother.

“You mean more to Me than You know.” Jacqueline continued. “You're the whole reason I'm here.”

I nodded. “Elric told Me. You stopped feeling guilty because of Me?”

Jacqueline pursed Her lips. “Yes. I heard about You in New York City and decided it was time to meet My Son and Grandchild. If He could create an undying family, I knew He might be willing to celebrate His Own and He wouldn't hate Me for My sins.”

Elric approached and wrapped His arms around both of Us and turned to His deiparous Mother. “Jacqueline, My dear. You committed no sin. Regardless of how or why I came to You that night, what You did saved Me from dying. How could I ever resent You for that?”

“There are some,” Jacqueline explained, “who would prefer death to Our half lives.”

Elric scoffed. “Half lives? My Love, Our existence is far richer than any mortal could ever dream!”

Willows shook snow upon bogle brows and they scurried into the darkwell valley greens.

“I run the nightshade moonbeams easily as mortal children splash through puddles.” Elric waved His hands, then gestured to Me, “I love the fairest leanan sidhe ever to walk the nightrealms. My reign shall be eternal and all manner of bedeviled courts cower to My command.” He said, striking fist to breast. “However could I curse the death You have given Me, Jacqueline?”

I fucking loved it when He talked like that.

Who the fuck talks that way? He sounded like a fucking Shakespeare play. So romantic. I tried to remain composed and not swoon like a schoolgirl.

What do I know? Maybe it sounds corny to read that shit, but fuck Me, it was sexy as hell when He said it.

“The circumstances by which I came to You that night were the worst of nightmares anyone could bear. But the truth is, You saved Me. I was dying. My life would have ended if not for You.” Elric said.

Gazing at Me, Elric said, “Happy now?”

“Excuse Me?”

He laughed. “Our conversation at Your school dance. When You asked about Camillia turning Me. Saying it never made sense.”

“I never said that. I said there had to be more to it.” I said in defense of Myself.

Elric frowned and used both arms to motion to Jacqueline, like He was a gameshow model showing off a new car.

I got it.

I laughed and said, “Yeah. I guess there was a lot more.”

There was a lot more than any of Us could have guessed that night. We may have presumed We knew the whole story in that instant, but all three of Us had much more to learn before We would actually know the entire truth.

We sat and stood together for a long while, none of Us saying a word.

All of Us had a lot to absorb in that conversation.

Elric finally broke the silence. “Hey. Jacqueline. You've never been to the Rainbow, have You?”

“The Gothic Rainbow?” She asked. “No. I know all about it, of course. I've seen photographs. The place looks amazing. But until last night, I have never been back here since the night You were Turned. I've lived in New York City ever since.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Snow fell in time to the opening notes of “This World” by Clan Of Xymox as We parked the Bugatti Type 41 Royale in the private garage and made Our way into The Gothic Rainbow.

As always, Our home welcomed Us with open arms.

Heat. Sweat. Lights. Darkness. Music. Youhful bodies gyrating and countless gallons of blood pumping just beneath the skin.

- some say We don't fit in, We're lost in another world -

Jacqueline gasped like a schoolgirl seeing a teen idol. Her eyes were wide and scattered in a dozen directions at once. Elric and I couldn't help but laugh. Jacqueline was elated.

“What do You think?” Elric leaned over to Her as We walked around the edge of the main dancefloor to the alter.

“Fucking amazing!” Jacqueline laughed in awe.

There is a beauty to the shadowdance that only a few understand. There has forever been something magical about music and dancing.

Down through the ages, ingrained in the collective psyche from our deepest ancestry, are the tribal rhythms of eons of dance. The very blood in Our veins was conjured from the beat of drums.

- this world is not made for you and I -

- it's built on blood and a million lies -

When dancing in a club and that music is playing, many people sincerely travel through time. They become 15 years old again. And all the worries and problems and heartaches of the last 20 years just vanish. Lost jobs. Lost loves. Deaths of those dear to them. None of that exists. Because it is their time again, back when life was perfect and they knew nothing of true sorrow or loss or heartache.

Nostalgia incarnate.

Despite the brooding atmosphere of their surroundings, they catch themselves smiling, and dancing, and lip-synching to the music, and they don't see a single other person in the crowd. They only see shapes and forms and they are back at the highschool dance. But this time, they are no longer shy. They are no longer timid. They are not the quiet and bashful kid they were back then.

As Bigod 20 starts to play “The Bog”, I move to the top of the stage on the alter. In the center of the club. Literally in the spotlight. For the whole of the crowd to see. And every beat of every drum is mine. The pulse. The heart. The rhythm. My Dominion.

I am home.

Allyson was there with a new Pawn. She had been keeping to Herself lately and not hanging out with Us as much. I think She was jealous of Me because Elric was hanging around with Me more often than Her. They used to be together constantly before I appeared.

I can totally understand that. Her being jealous, I mean.

Then again, Allyson was completely fucking insane. There's also a chance that She didn't even notice that Elric wasn't spending as much time with Her. After all, once a Creature has existed as long as Her, the perception of the passage of time begins to get very distorted. She could see Him 6 hours ago and yell at Him for ignoring Her, or She could not see Him for 6 years, and act like they had just seen each other 5 minutes ago.

Getting lost in My dancing, I moved through “Join In The Chant” by Nitzer Ebb and “Malfunction (Funker Vogt Remix)” by Velvet Acid Christ before I eventually walked off the floor and wandered about the club some more.

Jenna and Madylin were in the crowd.

They had never been there before.

Jenna still had bruises. She couldn't take her eyes off Elric.

I wondered if her fiance knew she had become a vampire's whore.

He lead them to one of the dark corners. Madylin on one arm and Jenna on the other. Smirking at the girls, Jenna grinned back. Embarrassed and ashamed and eager, she turned her face back into the fog.

Wandering the club more, I danced to “A Day” by Clan Of Xymox and “Hellraiser (VNV Nation Remix)” by Suicide Commando, and a few more songs, before I started to wonder what happened to Jacqueline.

∞ ∞ ∞

Jacqueline I found, standing atop the second floor balcony.

She spotted Me and hithered Me over to Her.

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“Who is that?” Jacqueline asked, pointing down below.

Following Her gesture, I saw Elric up on the stage, dancing with a girl in a flowing black gown. Her blonde and purple streaked hair was pulled up and swirling as She moved with Him to “Standing” by VNV Nation.

“With Elric?” I asked.

Jacqueline nodded.

“That's Liza. Liza Novini. But everyone calls her Fredericka.” I scoffed. The names these clubkids give themselves is such a fucking joke. Gets on My nerves.

No. It's not that.

Let Me rephrase.

It's not the nickname itself which bothers Me. It's the insistence that everyone has to use the fucking bullshit pseudonym. For Our Kind, it's different. Elric and I changed Our names too, but We are literally different Beings now. When mortals do it, the whole thing is kind of retarded.

Fredericka gets really pissed if anyone calls her Liza.

Naturally, Elric calls her Liza all the time.

Bastard loved twisting the knife into any wound, no matter how small.

“Fredericka? She's hot.”

“Totally. She's a revenant.” I don't know why I said that. Why volunteer that information? It's kind of like a mortal blurting out that someone is a queer or a musician or an Ivy League graduate. Doesn't really mean anything, it's just a label to slap on someone.

“Does she know?”

I pursed My lips in a sardonic laugh and gave Her a bitchy scoff.

“I didn't think so. Looks like He's really into Her.” She smiled.

I rolled My eyes and chuckled at the Prick. “The love of My life is a Whore. Blah, blah, blah, I'm a dirty Whore. He's into feeding on anything with tits that smiles at Him.”

Jacqueline laughed. “That doesn't upset You?”

The thought never crossed My mind.

Why be jealous of a flask of wine?

I could have told Her that everyone He touched was meaningless to Him compared to Me. I could have admitted that the connection We shared was beyond words and when We touch, the ecstasy We feel is beyond anything either of Us have ever known.

But I didn't want to share that much with Her.

Not yet.

So, instead I simply said, “They are just vessels to feed upon. Elric feels nothing for them.” I laughed. “He's just a little boy Who can't stop playing with His food.”

Jenna and Madylin were passed out on a nearby couch.

I motioned to them, but I didn't think Jacqueline got the joke.

Jacqueline grinned again.

She paused a moment, considering what I said, and took My hand. “Show Me around?” She motioned to the vast expanse of the nightclub surrounding Us.

“Gladly.” I smiled. “The Grand Tour.”

∞ ∞ ∞

We walked arm in arm and I guided Her around every dancefloor of The Gothic Rainbow to the sound of “I, Parasite” by Spoke.

She was childlike in Her awe of the place. At first, I thought it was sarcasm. Then, I slowly came to realize, no, not at all. It was pride. She was a very warm and sincere Woman - which is a bizarre thing to say about One of Our Kind. Nevertheless, the more time I spent with Her, I could see that everything She had claimed was true. She was genuinely happy for Us. She was proud of Elric. She saw My existence as Her redemption. The more We talked and the more I showed Her, the more She smiled, because all She hoped for Elric was manifest there in that club. There was an underlying envy in Her eyes, but all in all, She was a proud parent more than anything.

After showing Her every corner and catacomb of the old cathedral, from the spire of the belltower to the deeping of incensed basement crypts, We ended Our journey in a lonely corner of The Vault, filled with countless candles.

Even for sacrilegious monsters such as We, the room held a powerful aura of quiet meditation. You couldn't help but to speak softly in the place. No one was in there but Us. Sitting on a couch, We were encased in candlelight. Large and lumbering shadowbeasts, like wild boars, shambled over the dark of the walls. Quietly, We could hear “Once In A Lifetime” by Wolfsheim playing upstairs.

“Hel,” Jacqueline asked in a hush, “has Elric ever told You what happened that night? Before I found Him?”

“What night? When He was Turned, You mean?”

Nodding, She said, “Yes.”

I shook My head. “No. No, He hasn't. He's dropped a lot of hints, but that's about all.”

Jacqueline looked troubled. “Well, if He hasn't told You, then perhaps it's not My place to say anything. But, You should know. His story is Yours too.”

Part of Me agreed. Elric hadn't told Me, so Jacqueline certainly didn't have the right to go saying everything.

The other part of Me was burning with curiosity.

Curiosity won.

Jacqueline told Me everything. Naturally, I would also learn more details later, when I read Elric's noctuary. However, that night with Jacqueline, She revealed all the major points. Being assaulted by his sister's ex-boyfriend. Getting dumped in Her yard. How much blood he had lost.

Even without the horrible details Elric wrote about, the story was difficult for Me to hear.

As She spoke, there were a number of times when I felt a lump in My throat, aching with the thought of these things happening to the boy I loved.

My stepfather was abusive and knocked the shit out of me many times as a mortal. Those were unspeakably horrible experiences. Hearing the gory details of such a brutal attack on Elric was far worse.

Knowing Jacqueline wanted to tell Me, that pissed Me off too.

Honestly, I knew what Jacqueline was doing.

I saw right through Her.

She was trying to endear Herself to Me.

Quite a sadistically manipulative bitch, just like Her Sisters. She knew that by revealing all the horrors Elric experienced, I would care about Her more, because She saved Him. Showing Me what She rescued him from.

Twisted bitch.

It was quite clever. After all, I was young and inexperienced and I'm sure She figured I wasn't smart enough to pick up on Her motivation.

But I knew.

Because I can be a manipulative bitch just like Her.

At the same time, I was genuinely curious, so I played along.

Jacqueline was good, I must admit. With hundreds of years of experience for making people do what She wants, She was quite gifted.

Although I knew She was being manipulative, I found Myself more drawn to Her, despite knowing better. Even if I wasn't more trusting of Her, She made it easier for Me to pretend I was.

When Her story was done, I played along and told Her what She wanted to hear. Visibly distraught, I sighed, “Oh, Jacqueline.”

Hugging Her close, I said, “Thank You.”

Pulling away, I repeated, “Thank You. Not only for telling Me, but for saving Him.”

Jacqueline smiled sympathetically. “Thank You, Hel. Thank You for giving Me a reason to see Him again.”

Of course.

Her ulterior motive. If She couldn't have Him for Herself, She would share Him with Me. That's why She wanted Me to like Her so badly. To get closer to Him.

She kissed My cheek.

As She drew Her head back, I stopped Her.

Quickly, I pulled Her back into Me.

I returned Her kiss. Softer. Slower.

Embarrassed by Our lusting, the cumbersome shadows retreated and the room grew brighter.

Jacqueline touched My cheek and Her lips lingered longer upon My Own. But before We got much farther, a young giggling couple stumbled into the room, obviously looking for the same privacy.

Unlike in the movies, they didn't see Us and retreat sheepishly.

Instead, they found a place on the other end of the couch and started going at it, as if We weren't even in the room.

Would have been easy enough to scare them off, but their mere entrance spoiled the mood.

Jacqueline and I looked at Each Other and couldn't help but laugh.

We took it as Our cue to head back upstairs.

∞ ∞ ∞

One of the most erotic and memorable nights I ever witnessed with Elric was the night He met a girl named Renae Palmer who approached Him on the dancefloor as Peter Murphy played “I'll Fall With Your Knife”. She was a petite blonde nude dancer at The Circus. To this day, I can never hear that song without thinking of her.

She way Renae smiled.

The way she danced.

The way He charmed her.

The whole exchange between them was beautifully passionate.

The eroticism of that night was nothing compared to what I saw now.

Lady Gaga was filling the club with “Monster” as Fredericka moved seductively with Elric.

Her arms wrapped Him and they nearly kissed on the dancefloor. His hands glided all over her body, but never touched it. Shameless. Sensual. This wasn't a boy and a girl flirting on the dancefloor. This was art. This was two creatures of darkness fucking with their clothes on.

I had never seen Fredericka this aggressive. She wanted Him tonight.

But there was far more to it.

Two nameless and androgynous clubkid boys were there too. When Elric looked at Me, I knew.

- that Boy is a Monster -

Again would We feed, and feed well. He would eat My heart.

I glanced back at Jacqueline and Her eyes narrowed into slits as We got down on the floor.

She may have seemed like a warm and sincere Woman just a few moments ago, but with that one look, I saw revealed what She truly was.

This Bitch was as dark and twisted a Whore as any of Us.

A demoness Who had spent hundreds of years drinking the blood of the living.

She wasn't sweet at all.

When looking to feed, just like Her Son, that Girl was a monster.

∞ ∞ ∞

Overlooking the river, Fredericka had a condominium in the same building as Joshua Dehndron.

Her bedroom was a harlot's cage, gilded in refinements of silk and lace. Dark maroons and navy and black, sprinkled with ivory mesh highlights. The air smelled of nothing but sweat and incense and blood and rose petals.

- do not prostitute thy daughter, to cause her to be a whore; lest the land fall to whoredom, and the land become full of wickedness -

Nine Inch Nails blared from the stereo with “The Only Time” into “Get Down, Make Love” as I admired the forms of My lovers. With the pulse of the music and backmasking drums, I remembered the night in strobelight flashes.

As the beat of the music rolled and shuddered to the rhythm of sex, I watched the two prettyboys running their hands and mouths all over Jacqueline. When they weren't playing with a girl, they played with each other. Gently stroking. Sucking. Softly tasting skin and cock and cunt and cum.

Gorgeous as they were, Elric was truly a God. His muscles aggressive and lean, He appeared larger than life - the Greek statue made flesh. Every curve of His skin was like creamy stone. Every inch of Him found a way under My tongue. His firm ass cupped in My hands. The irresistible curve of His ribcage to His armpits. There wasn't a drop of His flesh that didn't make Me wet. I worshiped Him in ways that were shameful. My strength and resolve dissolved that night. This wasn't like Our violence shared on the edge of the dark fountain. That night, the werewolf bitch surrendered to His command.

I was His.

Jacqueline's flesh was pure and clean, the pale hue of vanillia icecream, dotted with freckles like bean specks. She was simple lines and curves and desire, like a caricature of sex, drawn by the hand of savages. That long golden hair and flawless pallor was a stark contrast to the body of Fredericka.

Fredericka was adorned in countless sensual and suggestive tattoos As she would writhe and moan, from beautiful cocks penetrating her tight mouth and pussy, her ink would ripple and glisten under her sweet sweat in the candlelight. Covering her entire back was a black-winged devil, grabbing a blonde angel by the throat. The harlot did nothing to resist his muscled domination. The small of Fredericka's back was decorated with a gargoyle-styled stone lions head, framed on either side by wickedly sharp fleur-de-lis, which swirled and curved all the way down to onto her perfect buttermilk ass. Each of her shoulders contained a misty gargoyle visage as well, while an exquisite and erotic image of Lady Death adorned her entire left thigh. The more I looked at her skin, the more I wanted to feel a tongue between My legs. The more I thought of her body, the more I wanted to see Elric do dirty things to it.

I loved how hard Fredericka would bury her face in My thighs when Elric would batter Her into orgasm from behind. Colubrine she moved and slithered. So hard inside her, Elric would thrust deeper and deeper and everytime she came, He made her buck and convulse with hellbeast fury.

Perverse and warm flowed all pleasures and blood.

Although the mortal boys never tasted a drop of Our ichor, as the night spun towards dawn, I lost track of who was fucking who and what blood was being shared.

Jacqueline's eyes lit up when Elric touched Her.

She had been dreaming of this for years and at last, She would know the passion of Her dreamlover. Her face twisted excruciating, while Her eyes burst with ecstasy.

Jacqueline's hair wrapped around Him, as if Her entire body were straining to pull Him as far into Her as possible. Melting into His touch, He controlled Her every move. The twitch of a finger. The shudder of a stomach. Every muscle responding to the way He would hold Her writhing body. After awhile, I don't think She even knew where She was anymore.

The prettyboys barely felt like anything when they fucked. I could hardly tell or care when they were inside Me. They tasted lovely as sweetmeat, but Elric was like honey and wine.

Anything He did to Jacqueline and Fredericka was nothing compared to the pleasures He gave Me. Fucking Elric was always different. Anytime He touched Me, all the intoxicating vertigo ceased. The swirl of the dreamtrance stopped dead and I became lost in His heartbeat. We no longer breathed, but His breath still smelled of winter frost and woodland musk. The scent of Him made My legs lock tighter around Him everytime.

He fucked them beautifully, but He didn't cum in any bitch but Me.

∞ ∞ ∞

Fredericka sent the boys home in a blood lost daze, while it was still far from dawn. As the sun rose, Jacqueline, Elric and I stayed with Fredericka, sealed deep in the dark of her windowless rooms.

Chapter Seven

The next night, I was the first to awaken.

Exiting the darkened chambers of Fredericka's condominium, I emerged onto the lofty balcony overlooking the city. The evening was young and a newfallen snow was beginning to lightly dust everything in sight.

So much had happened in the last two days.

I was still in a whirl. Thinking about the conversation with Elric in the cemetery, I kept on wondering what else was amiss.

Sometimes, You can feel the universe growing unsettled. Like a Cassandra Complex from a forgotten dream. Knowing something is going to happen, but uncertain of what it will be. You just feel it in Your bones.

A storm is coming.

There was little time to Myself.

Elric found Me and embraced Me from behind.

We said nothing.

He looked into My eyes and that alone said everything I needed to hear.

I smiled at Him. “I love You.”

“I know.”

He kissed My hand and guided it over His heart. “This will always belong to You.”

For a man who didn't say “I love You, too” He sure knew the right thing to say.

Resting My head against His chest, I felt safe again. With Him, I knew everything would be fine. As much as He was a pain in the ass and drove Me crazy, I knew He loved Me more deeply than every young girl dreams of being cherished.

Had I known He'd be dead so very soon, I would have cherished those moments even more.

“There's something I need to tell You.” I whispered. “It's been kind of bothering Me.”

“What's wrong, Baby?”

I shook My head. “Oh, nothing. Nothing. It's nothing bad. Well, it is something terrible, but - ”

“ - Just say it.”

“Last night, Jacqueline told Me all the details about, well, about what happened to You.”

“Oh. I see.” Obviously not a subject He wanted to be reminded about.

“You're not mad, are You? I shouldn't have let Her tell Me. I mean I should have heard it from You and - ”

“ - Shh. Stop. No. No, I'm not mad. I'm grateful. I don't particularly want to talk about it, but I'd like for You to know. So, having Her tell You is fine. Saves Me the trouble. I'm not angry with either of You. I'm glad You now know the whole story.”

“Good.” I smiled.

Fredericka found Us on the balcony, “Hey, You two.”

“Hey, Liza.” Elric said.

She visibly tensed her jaw, but swallowed her annoyance and said nothing.

He kissed her, long and slow. I could see her irritation melt away as her hips pushed into His.

“You're an asshole.” She said as they parted.

“Blah, blah, blah, I'm a dirty whore.” I mumbled.

“What?” Elric looked at Me.

“Nothing, Dear.” I smiled.

“What are You Two doing tonight?” Fredericka asked.

Elric shrugged. “Nothing.”

Because He had just irritated the fuck out of her with His “Liza” remark, it was obvious she almost tried to awkwardly change the topic. Instead, she went ahead and asked what she originally intended. “Faith & The Muse are playing the Sin Podium. Wanna come?”

Elric looked at Me and I nodded. “Sure.” Elric answered.

Jacqueline approached and was invited as well.

“Actually, Your Highness, I wanted to request a favor.” Jacqueline said to My Love.

“What is that?” Elric wondered.

“I would like to move back here. To the city. With Your permission?”

Elric crumpled His brow. “Jacqueline, You lived here before Me. I live in Your mansion. You made Me. You certainly don't need My permission to return.”

“No. I don't.” Jacqueline said sternly. Then She softened and said, “But I wouldn't want to be here if You didn't want Me. Therefore, diplomacy demands that I seek permission first.”

Elric smiled, appreciative of Her courtesy. He took two steps towards Her and kissed Her forehead. “You may return. Of course You may.”

Jacqueline bowed graciously. “Thank You, Mi'Lord. Then I must graciously decline Your offer to attend the show. Before I move, I have affairs which require attending in New York.”

Kissing Fredericka on the cheek, She said, “Was a pleasure meeting You.”

“You as well.”

“We'll walk You out.” Elric said, taking My hand.

Nothing more was spoken until We reached the parking garage.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Thank You, Jacqueline.” Elric said.

Jacqueline shook Her head. “I owe You, remember? You have given Me reason to come home again. To stop living a lie.”

Part of Me wanted to correct Her, that We were not truly alive. She shouldn't really use the word “living” in that context. But, it didn't seem the time or place to be pedantic.

Besides, I confuse anesthesia and anorexia or whatever.

Who am I to correct anyone?

“I owe the most gratitude of all, to You.” Jacqueline said, looking at Me.

I hugged Her. “Oh, Jacqueline.”

She continued, “No, I do. Seriously. If You hadn't accepted Me, then Elric wouldn't either.”

Elric suddenly looked shocked. “Wait. It was You!” He said, spinning to face Us.

Jacqueline looked confused. I was just as perplexed.

Elric continued. “You live in New York City. You've been there ever since the night I was Turned. Do You know Nix and Gillian Hill?”

Jacqueline shifted uncomfortably, “Yes. Of course. Everyone does. No one was very happy to hear about Nix.”

“And You were planning to come back here?” Elric asked.

“Yes. I had been thinking about it.” Jacqueline shot a glance at Me. “We've talked about this. I don't quite see - ”

“ - That's why Camillia was so upset when Gillian Hill showed up at the Halloween party. This past Halloween. He was trying to tell Us You were returning. That's why Camillia was so upset! She was worried about how I'd react!”

Jacqueline and I stared in silence.

Laughing, Elric said, “I'm sorry. Nevermind. I know You don't have any clue what the hell I'm talking about. I just figured out something that was bugging Me.”

“Ooookay.” I said. “Freak.”

“Shut up.” Elric laughed.

Looking at Jacqueline, Elric asked sarcastically, “You're not hiding anything else, are You? You. Allyson. Camillia. That's all, right? There's not some mysterious fourth DuBois Sister out there? You're not hiding three Brothers somewhere too? Like the fucking undead Brady Bunch?”

Jacqueline played along, “Well, now that You mention it - ”

“ - Oh, fuck off!” Elric smacked Her. “Don't even joke around about that shit! I'm serious!”

Jacqueline laughed. “No. No. I'm only kidding. No other DuBois family members. Just We three Sisters. That's it. Promise.”

“Okay. Because if there are, They can't come. The rest just need to stay lost wherever the fuck They are.” He joked.

Jacqueline had a good sense of humor about His comments and laughed along. I was laughing into My hand as They bid Their final farewells.

Jacqueline got into the Bugatti and drove off.

As the taillights vanished out of sight, Elric turned to Me. “Well?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I feel it too. I was thinking about it when - ”

“ - When You were on the balcony. I know.”

“Something is still off. I can't quite explain it.”

Putting His arm around Me, He said, “Stick close.”

That made Me laugh. “I'm like Your shadow anyway. This doesn't change a thing.”

Elric frowned. “True. How is this any different?”

As We began to walk back towards the elevator to Fredericka's condominium, I asked, “You like having Me for a shadow?”

“I would never have it any other way.”

“You sure? You never get tired of Me?”

“Tired of You? Hel, You are My shadow because I love having You so close to Me.”

“Always?”

“Always, My tiny dancer.”

I knew it was true.

I just liked to hear Him say it.

I spun a pirouette. I loved it when He called Me His tiny dancer.

He was always looking to show Me the sincerity of His love and I adored Him for it. He would even compose sonnets and loveletters to Me.

At first, I felt like He was trying to win Me over. I kept telling Him I never needed presents or gifts to buy My love. Sometimes I felt He was being manipulative as fuck.

He would explain that He was never doing that. After all, it's not like I was going to leave Him. Who could compare to the boy who gave Me immortality? He just loved going out of His way to show Me how much He cared. He wanted to make an effort for Me, just so I'd see He was never taking Me for granted.

What He said to Me just then in the parking garage made Me so happy, I fucked Him in the elevator, before We even got back upstairs. But I feel like this is nearly turning into a sex book, so I'll maintain a little decorum and spare the details. He fucked Me harder than priests fuck tight little choirboy asses though. I will say that much.

I nearly slipped in My blood on the elevator floor.

Fredericka was getting dressed to “Date With The Night” by Yeah Yeah Yeahs and gave Us a strange look as We stumbled back into Her apartment, all giggly with Our clothes ragged.

She didn't bother to ask what had taken so long.

∞ ∞ ∞

The Sin Podium was an intimate club over in Lakewood on Detroit and the ideal venue for an act like Faith & The Muse.

Fredericka parked in the nearby drugstore parking lot, and she walked with Elric and I through the snowy alleyway to the club. Blinding sodium yellow streetlamps lit the alley so brightly it looked like My memories of the sun.

Many of the regulars from The Gothic Rainbow were in attendance.

In fact, so was Our Sister, Allyson.

“What are You doing here?” Elric greeted Her.

She had a “what the fuck” look on Her face and said, “What are You doing here?”

“Liza just told Us about it. We didn't even know about the show.”

“Neither did I!” Allyson laughed. “I just found out from Felicia and John last night at the club. I was looking for You, to tell You, but then You disappeared.”

Elric nodded. “Oh. Yeah. We stayed at Liza's last night.”

“Fredericka.” Fredericka said, bitching.

Elric looked at Her like she was an idiot. “Right. Fredericka.”

Allyson didn't give a shit about that. She just said, “Well, I'm so glad You're here!”

“Yeah! Say, what car did You drive?” Elric asked.

“The Mulsanne.” Allyson said.

“Cool. That's good. The Bentley? Fuck, I hate that car.” Elric said. “Ugly as shit.”

Elric was such a boy. Him and His cars. I didn't know shit about cars. Camillia told Me that We came to Own three times as many Bugatti's after Elric came along. I don't know how He remembered all those names and years and shit. A Bugatti something something cabriolet. A 1939 Delahaye whatever whatever. Who cares? It has four wheels and goes. I just liked the colors. Matches My lipstick, I'm happy.

Allyson laughed, “Cool? Then why are You glad I drove it?”

“Because it has four seats, so Hel and I will just ride home with You.”

Fredericka said, “Great. I hate driving Your candy asses all the way back to the far east side anyway.”

“You drive like shit anyway.” Elric told her.

Fredericka smacked Him. “Excuse Me? I do not!”

“Yeah, you do.” Allyson backed up Elric.

The three of them kept talking and playing around.

I didn't say much at all.

For whatever reason, I couldn't shake the laconic feeling I had on the balcony. As Monica Richards started into “All Lovers Lost”, I found Myself barely present. My mind wandered too much.

The music was lovely as always, but I felt like I had already been there for eternity.

Shadows. Fog machines. Dancing. Fingernails and lips, black as the elegant dresses. I couldn't bear it anymore. Breaking away from Elric and and Fredericka, I wandered the crowd.

I didn't get far before I heard Elric's voice in My head, “What's wrong, My Love?”

“Nothing. I - ”

“ - Don't bother lying.”

I sighed and leaned against the bar. “Sorry. I should know better.”

Elric approached through the crowd. “You have been a bit lost since last night.”

“I'm fine.” I said aloud as He reached Me.

I wasn't fine. I just couldn't help but do that girly shit where I pushed to see if He'd pay attention. Like all girls, I hate Myself for doing that crap. Why do I constantly test a Soul Who adores Me?

He knew Me way too well.

“Now,” He said, “I can leave it go, and pretend You're being honest. Or I can ask You again.”

“I don't know!”

“Don't get bitchy when I'm expressing concern for You. That's annoying as shit.”

Fucker. He had that awful talent for pissing Me off, while being sweet at the same time.

Boys.

“I'm just really preoccupied. We've both had a lot of crazy shit happen with Jacqueline showing up and I think I'm just trying to process all of it.”

He nodded. “I understand, My Love. I feel the same way. You do that stuff a lot, You know.”

“What stuff?”

“You and I are in the same situation and You presume that You're all alone and I don't understand what You're dealing with.”

Bastard. It's not the same!

“We're not in the same situation! Nothing changes for You! You just keep having the same kind of relationships. Keep doing the same things in Your Own little world. Whatever makes You happy. It's all about You. Going clubbing. Coming to shows. Hanging out with these little goth sluts. But everything is different for Me! I don't know Who the fuck I am anymore or where I come from or where things are going. Am I just a fucking game to everyone? Oh, cute little Hel, look at how She's Elric's little Girl? Fuck that!”

How dare He!

Insensitive bastard. I never realized how fucking selfish this Prick was. Everything was all about Him.

He is the one going around fucking some other whores.

The last thing I need is for some new bitch like Jacqueline to show up!

He grabbed My wrist and dragged Me outside.

“Hey! Cut it out!” I yelled.

We ended up out on the sidewalk, snow dusting Our hair. The music spilled out, muffled from inside the club.

“What the fuck is wrong with You?!” He screamed. “Are You that self-centered? You think nothing has changed for Me and I only think of Myself? Fuck you!”

I growled back. “Don't talk to Me like -”

“ - Shut Your fucking mouth! You just fucking went off on Me for no goddamn reason. Now let Me tell You what's really going on. I think about You all the time. Everything I do is focused around You! Now, more than ever!”

He tensed and uncomfortably added, “There is other shit going on, Hel! You know this! You feel it, just the same as I do. Have You payed attention to the fact that I have barely let You out of My sight since Jacqueline showed up?”

His hand swept snow from His hair. “I don't know what more We are in for, but You are My whole world! Protecting You is all I can think about! That is why nothing has changed for Me. Don't You fucking get it? You think I'm being selfish and only thinking of Myself? I'm only thinking of You!”

He paused and I was just about to lash out at Him, when I suddenly realized what the fuck He was thinking.

Poor Elric was totally freaked out.

He wasn't being selfish at all.

He was acting like nothing changed, in order to protect both of Us. He didn't want any of the Dark Ones to know that We were both suspicious.

Now, I may have fucked that up, by backing Him into a corner like this. Shit.

I was wrong.

This wasn't all about Him. He was looking out for Us both. That's why He was playing it cool and acting like nothing was any different.

What a fool I had been.

Casting down My gaze, I apologized. “I'm so sorry. I - Of course. What You're doing makes sense. I just - ”

“ - Shhhh.” Elric embraced Me and I buried My face in His chest. His voice was deep and strong as I heard it against My ear. “You never need to apologize to Me.”

“Yes, I do. I was being stupid.”

“Remember what I always tell You - put Yourself in someone else's shoes. If You had just thought about what I was doing for five seconds, You would have figured it out. You're a smart girl.”

Nodding, I apologized again. “Yeah. I'm sorry.”

We pulled apart and He kept My face in His hands.

“I love You.” I said.

“I know, Baby. Would You fucking relax and trust Me. I have a reason for everything I do. There's always a purpose to it.” He winked and gave Me those smoldering brown eyes.

“There is always a purpose to everything?”

“Yes. Absolutely. You just need to have some faith in Me. May not seem like I know what I'm doing, but I usually have My shit together better than You suspect.” He grinned.

“Okay.” I nodded once more.

He was right.

I was still a teenager, after all. He had been around for awhile longer. Sometimes I forget that he's a lot older than Me. He looks so young, it's easy to forget. I'm turned on by Him being older and wiser, yet I'm also weirded out by it sometimes too. I know He wasn't flawless, but He did know more than I gave Him credit for sometimes.

“Just talk to Me. Ask Me. Don't go jumping to conclusions.” He instructed.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I love You, too, My Darling.” He smiled.

Before I knew it, the club was filled with the chorus of “Vervain” and Elric reached out His hand to dance with Me. I couldn't help but titter and blush like a schoolgirl. There We danced and spun and twirled. Right on the snowy sidewalk, under the glow of streetlamps.

Our feet slid across the frosty ground and Elric glided with Me like a celestial body of grace.

I thought about the people inside who saw Us leave in a heated argument and started laughing, thinking about how they'd see Us now.

As Faith & The Muse broke into “The Unquiet Grave”, Elric began to leap and bounce in a spirited medieval folk dance.

He was a freaking lunatic.

- for We professed eternal love that lives though I may sleep -

No matter how much He pissed Me off, no matter how upset I ever became over anything in the world, He was the only Soul on earth Who knew exactly how to effortlessly bring Me back to laughing again.

Our dancing lead Us back into the club, where the entire mood of the show had changed. Of course, I realized it wasn't really the show or the crowd at all. Everything was on Me. I felt ten times better, so the concert became immeasurably more fun.

By the time the show ended, I was having a great time and I was really glad We went.

∞ ∞ ∞

Once the show ended, Fredericka wanted to wait around and get autographs from Monica and William, then go out to eat at a diner across the street.

Allyson and Elric and I decided to meet her over there.

We could easily make her believe We were eating too.

The diner was nothing special. Typical greasy spoon with old haggard waitresses who call everyone “Honey”, and glass ketchup bottles sitting among the condiments, and single-serving dollops of jelly in plastic containers. Red formica tabletops with stainless steel trim and matching red vinyl benches for the counter stools and booths.

I slid into the diner booth as Elric moved in next to Me.

“So how did everything go?” Allyson asked from across the table.

Elric asked, “What do You mean?”

“With My Sister. Jacqueline?”

“Oh! Good. Things went really well.” Elric was a little uncomfortable. After all, it was His fault that Jacqueline left for all those years. Obviously, Allyson had been involved in the deception, along with Camillia, to never disclose the existence of Jacqueline.

“Nice. Camillia told Me that You talked.” Allyson said.

She said nothing more.

Slowly, Elric and I relaxed. It began to occur to Us that Allyson didn't really care about Jacqueline returning or not. After all, what is a dozen years to One Who exists forever?

In Her way of seeing things, Allyson barely noticed Jacqueline had been gone. She missed Her Sister about as much as a spouse in a forty year marriage misses the other when they go to the drugstore for twenty minutes.

I hate that word. Spouse. Just sounds ugly.

Moist is an awful word too.

Anyway, the three of Us sat in silence for a few more moments as Allyson removed Her jacket. Allyson didn't mention Jacqueline again.

Fredericka did.

“Hey, Allyson!” She said, walking into the diner.

Allyson scooted over, so Fredericka could fit.

“I totally forgot to congratulate You on Your Sister coming back!” Fredericka said. “I never even knew You had another Sister!”

Join the fucking club.

Allyson just nodded. Didn't say a word. Like I said, She hardly gave a shit. The return of Jacqueline barely registered in Allyson's thousand shades of crazy.

Fredericka had already moved on and was talking about the Faith & The Muse gig. Typical concert talk. Happy about what songs were played. Upset by favorites that were skipped.

One of the haggard waitresses came over and took Our order.

“What can I get for you ladies? And gentleman?”

“I'll have the number 6 with sausage.” Fredericka said.

“And how would you like your eggs, honey?”

“Sunnyside.”

“Mkay. And for You?” The waitress looked at Allyson.

“I'll have 4 infants with fresh blood.” Allyson replied. The waitress heard, “Number 4 with fresh bacon.”

The mortals would all remember Us ordering and eating something. They just wouldn't be sure what it had been.

After taking orders from Elric and I, the waitress left.

Then, the topic of conversation changed into something incredible.

To this day, I remember exactly where I was the night I first heard about the inaugural Lollipoploser Tour.

Hanging out in that little diner in Lakewood by West 117th Street and Detroit, Allyson brought it up in idle conversation.

“Oh, did you hear Jane's Addiction is going to be playing a concert this summer with Nine Inch Nails and Siouxsie?” Allyson said.

All three of us stared at Her speechless for a second. Finally, Elric just said, “What?”

Clearly Allyson was in Extra-crazyland tonight.

I managed to ask, “Siouxsie Sioux?”

“Yeah! I just heard about it earlier tonight.”

Elric and I were so shocked, We looked at Her like She was shoving rattlesnakes up Her ass.

“What?” Elric said incredulously. “No way.”

“Yeah, seriously!”

We still didn't believe it.

Fredericka played along, “That's awesome! When is it?”

“I just told you. This summer.”

“Yeah, but when?”

“I don't remember the exact dates.” Allyson reached over for Her jacket and pulled out a folded flier. Reading it, She announced, “August 5th at Blossom.”

What?

She had a flier?

You mean this was real?

She didn't make this up, somewhere in rattlesnake assland?

“Holy crap. Let Me see that!” Elric reached for the flier. Quickly, He snatched it from Her hands.

We couldn't wrap Our brains around the concept. How on earth could three bands of their magnitude be on the same bill? Who was headlining? Who was opening?

The whole notion was unfathomable.

“But,” I said, “when are they going to start playing? You can't have three headlining acts like that. They'll have to go on stage at 6 o'clock!”

“No doubt.” Elric chuckled. His tone reflected His disbelief. I could tell what He was thinking - This sounded like just another psychotic Allyson delusion.

But how could it be?

There was a flier.

As He stared at the flier, Elric showed it to Me. His eyes were lit like a kid on christmas morning.

Allyson elaborated. “Yeah, exactly. There's like a bunch of other bands playing too. The show is going to last all day.”

“All day?!” Elric asked.

“Yeah. Like those big festival shows they have in Europe.”

Well, now it was starting to make sense. In fact, it began to sound downright feasible.

“Let me see! Let me see!” Fredericka reached for the flier. When Elric refused to give it up, she shot out of her seat and forced her way into the bench next to Us.

I doubt Elric and I had ever looked so giddy or childlike with excitement. We were nearly bouncing in the diner booth.

“Fuck. Jane's and Nails and Siouxsie in one fucking show?” I was still awestruck, reading the flier.

But there was more!

Rollins Band. Butthole Surfers. Ice-T. Living Colour.

We didn't really give a shit about those bands, but still!

The flier indicated there was even a side stage featuring “local acts” and some sort of weird little sideshow/carnival/vaudeville thing called Annwn's Obsidian Sideshow & Maelstrom Festival.

Elric smiled, “That's going to be fucking amazing.”

Unknowingly, anything Elric could have predicted regarding the importance of that concert would have been an understatement.

We spent the rest of the night talking about it and planning on getting tickets and speculating about what the show might be like.

∞ ∞ ∞

“You ready?” Allyson asked as Fredericka finished.

“Sure.” I said.

Meanwhile, Fredericka had been flirting with Elric the whole time, rubbing His leg under the table.

She whispered in His ear. Had I been human, it would have been too quiet to hear. “Or You can just come home with me again. I can drive You home tomorrow night.”

I knew the bitch meant to only invite Him.

Whore.

He whispered back just as quiet, with venom surfing like silver over His tongue, “We will gladly bed you again.”

He made Me smile by saying “We” and making sure Fredericka knew I was not to be excluded.

Take that, bitch.

“Well, I guess I'm headed back alone then.” Allyson announced.

Fredericka looked confused. How did Allyson hear them from across the table?

Oh, My dear little revenant, you are not vampir. Never have been. Never will be. Even though you think you are, you're still just a mortal child.

As Allyson got up from the booth, She grabbed the Lollipoploser flier back from the tabletop.

“Oh! Can I keep that?” I asked.

Allyson shrugged. “Sure.” She handed it to Me.

“Later.” Elric said.

Allyson exchanged hugs and kisses all around and within a minute or two, vanished out the door.

∞ ∞ ∞

Fredericka was Mine that night.

Elric knew it right away.

My beautiful Devil Prince smiled at Me in the diner and fluorescent lights flickered into dim water.

The whole of the place turned darker.

The whole of the night stayed that way.

The eve and midnight black shrouded by My anger.

Elric never said a word. Back in her bed, He addressed Fredericka with evil grins and rough hands. At first, she was irritated by His silent treatment.

She laughed it off. Then she got angry.

Then she got turned on.

Our little kitty to dash well against the stones.

Little did she know, He would not give her the pleasure her wet thighs dreamed of feeling. He was not hers. He would never be hers. And that slut would learn her place. He would simply give her to Me. I would make her pay. I would make her hurt.

Back in her bed, as “If I Was Your Vampire” by Marilyn Manson faded into Curve blaring “Nowhere” from her stereo, the music sliced a little louder than was comfortable for Fredericka. Although her head hurt from the pain of the volume, she couldn't stop the cacophony, because as Elric took her from behind, He drove her neck deeper into My fangs with each thrust.

I drank hard.

I drank long.

I took more than she could bear.

“Not to death.” Elric thought.

“Bitch!”

“And You have shamed her as she deserves. But We need their kind. Not to death.”

“I know!”

Elric smiled at Me for challenging Him.

He'd make Me pay for that.

I couldn't wait!

Fredericka cried, but not with passion. We laughed and savored her torment. Grim and manes ran about the room, praising Our orgy of torture. Her wounds ached. Her muscles resisted. Her fight was useless.

Soon she collapsed. She could withstand no more.

After leaving her ravaged and unconscious, Elric took the remainder of My rage. Our madlust ripped a firestorm. Every inch of the bedchamber seemed dripping with blood and flame and torn canopy silks. Ours was the hatefuck of suffering in an ocean of viciousness. When I cried, it was with ecstasy and the orgasmic vertigo of being consumed by My cruel Lover.

I thought of the girls He raped in the cemetery and couldn't stop laughing. His fist pummeled My face as I bashed My knee into His stomach until ribs crackled. My bloodied knuckles throbbed sore. The second He stopped hitting Me, I came three times to the beat of the music.

Sore and bruised. Beaten and knotted.

He hurt Me so beautifully.

∞ ∞ ∞

The next night, I was awake first again.

We thought We had turned off the stereo, but “Sleeping With Ghosts” by Placebo was playing softly and washing over the room at a volume so low, a mortal might not even hear it.

Despite all the pain I had caused her, I felt the sharp pang of jealousy when I saw Fredericka curled upon Elric's thigh.

Breathing slow and deep with Him, Elric lay peaceful, looking far more boyish than usual.

As I watched My darling Father slumber, I found Myself slowly turning more and more wracked with envy.

No. Not for the reasons one might think.

As Elric had penetrated her and I, it wasn't the way He looked at her that made Me envious. Not at all. His lust and His desire only increased My Own. All the fire in His eyes fanned the flames of My Own yearning. My jealousy came from what was missing in His eyes, not by what was there.

Sitting there watching Him sleep, it finally hit Me.

The obvious truth.

Sasha.

Seeing Him lay there alone with Fredericka, the emotions finally punched Me in the gut.

There was always something missing. Not Me. Not Jacqueline. Not anyone. Just her. Just Sasha.

She is what was missing. And I saw that more clearly than ever. Ever since I followed Elric to her house, she would not leave My mind. I wasn't talking about her, but she was there. Like a ghost, she was always haunting Me. Always there.

There are no ghosts stronger than the ghosts of those who are still alive.

That night, the simple truth came to Me.

That was what was truly bothering Me all this time.

That was why I fought with Elric the night before.

This had nothing to do with Jacqueline.

This had nothing to do with Fredericka.

They were all excuses.

Sasha is what was upsetting Me.

As I watched Him sleep, My heart finally saw clearly what I had been angry about. Sasha is where My rage and jealousy lie.

I wasn't jealous of these other bitches.

Elric didn't give a fuck about any of them.

Only Me. I was all He cared about. These sluts didn't compare to Me.

Sasha is a different story though.

Sasha is the girl He truly loves.

I found Myself fighting back the tears as I had to face the truth - He loved her more than Me.

He always would.

Those horrible words kept repeating in My head.

He loved her more than Me.

He loved her more than Me.

- soulmates never die -

Clutching the railing of the balcony, it all came crashing down upon Me like tidal waves cracking the bow of a ship. There I was again. Same place. Staring out over the skyline. Same roads. Same view. Just like the night before. Just like I had felt at the club. At the concert.

My nights were nothing but a tedious repetition of one another because this isn't where I belonged. This was My eternity? More of the same. Never aging. Never dying. Never changing.

I couldn't bear it.

With Elric? He is to be the One keeping Me company through eternal night? One Who never truly wanted Me?

No.

I do not belong here.

I never have.

Sasha belonged here.

She should be in My place.

I was never the girl that Elric wanted.

I was never the girl Elric loved.

He settled for Me.

It was her. It was always her. Only her.

He Turned Me because He doesn't love Me.

Why else did He visit her in secret?

Why didn't He ever bring her into Our night?

He spared her from the darkness. From the shadows. Because He couldn't bear to bring her into Our world of perpetual shadows.

I was her replacement. I represented what He didn't give a shit about.

My grieving tore at My chest.

Elric would never love Me as I wanted Him to. I wanted to own every facet of His being. To rule every piece of His soul. But I would never have that. For He had given too much of Himself to Sasha. He would never leave her. Even in death, He watched over her.

I didn't want Elric or Fredericka to find Me like this. I didn't want to have to explain what was upsetting Me. Standing on her balcony, I was doing everything in My power to swallow My sobbing and choke down My tears. But of course, the harder I tried, the more it hurt and the louder I seemed to become. My heart broke and weeping tore My breast like an iron fan twisting inside My ribcage. The steel bar of the rail was bent in My grip, I wept so violently.

- soulmate dry Your eyes -

I leapt off the balcony, spinning and flipping down from one story to the next on other terraces. Half real. Half shadow. Half cries of the white wolf.

When I reached the ground, the wolf ran.

I ran towards the frozen lake and along the industrial desolation. Through the brisk dark, I sprinted towards the Science Center and Hall of Fame. Beyond them, to the Lakefront Airport.

I ran east along the lakeshore until I could run no more.

Then I ran farther.

No matter how fast I ran though, My grief was still right on My heels.

Time slowed. I sprinted with the call of banshee wailing. After a time, I couldn't be sure which sounds were echoes of haunted spirits deep in the lake and which came from My Own voice. When I finally collapsed, I was somewhere on the far eastern side of the city. The snows were deeper there. I took comfort in the harsher cold. There was solace in the pain of the chill.

Early in the winter evening, the streets were busy.

That was the moment I realized, it was christmas eve.

Tomorrow would be a huge party for Camillia, celebrating the anniversary of the night She was Turned.

Walking past an apartment with a cracked open window, I got a whiff of “Fairytale Of New York” by The Pogues, possibly the greatest christmas song of all time. Befitting for My mood.

Being the Creature I had become, such holidays didn't much matter to Me anymore. Hell, such holidays hadn't mattered for years, even while I was mortal.

But it hit Me, sitting there on the curb of some nameless sidestreet, in the snowy night, christmas lights glittering, this was My first christmas eve as the Daughter of Elric.

I quietly wandered the street. Most the homes had menorahs in their windows, since that side of town was full of “god's chosen assholes”. I laughed, thinking about how vile and perverted such mortals were. Believing in an imaginary god and presuming that god places more value upon them, simply because of bloodlines and geography. What's the difference between humans calling themselves “The Master Race” or “God's Chosen People”? Hypocrites. They are both the identical arrogance. Fucking disgusting elitism.

I may or may not have ended up slaughtering one of their dogs and using the blood of the hound to draw swastikas on a dozen or so front porches and livingroom windows. Just to amuse myself. That may have been Me. I admit nothing.

The remains of the dog may have replaced a plastic reindeer. Maybe.

I'm not confessing to anything.

Then again, maybe I just daydreamed about it.

Shuffling down the street, I found Myself walking in the road instead of the unploughed sidewalk.

Through yards and over lawns I began to meander.

The whole time, I still kept getting gut punched by those thoughts.

He doesn't really love Me.

He loves her more.

He loves her more.

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

∞ ∞ ∞

Sasha was home by herself, asleep, curled up on her sofa before the fireplace. Her cane hooked over the armrest.

I hadn't even realized I was standing outside her house. My awareness crept in slowly.

Neighboring houses resonated with carols and holiday joy.

Not here.

Here the christmas lights were the candlelit procession of a memorial.

Out of her livingroom came the melancholy of “Building A Mystery” by Sarah McLachlan.

Why was she home alone on christmas eve?

The night was still young. The sun had only set an hour ago. Why would she be asleep?

- You come out at night, that's when the energy comes -

- and the darksides light, and the vampires roam -

Despair lingers heavy in the mind. Now that I have come to be of the Shadows, I understand the personification of darkness to gremlin and goblin fold. The dark thoughts truly do scour the soul and drag one into lightless corners of dank and foul. One need only turn to the light to live again. Fight and push to the sun and joy will prevail. As My sunlight is now the moonglow, the light can still prevail, even in My endless shadowrealm. But not so for Sasha. She had spent so long in the depths of remorse and anguish and despair that she had forever forgotten her way. None could show her the path to the light, nor could she ever hope to find it alone.

An empty glass of wine on the endtable. Next to her was a notebook. On the other side, a tattered copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach.

Opened, the book rested in her hand with the sanctity of a bible, the first pages inscribed by Elric. Signed in His mortal name, of course. Words of love and tenderness from a christmas many years past.

She had opened the notebook to reveal a letter she never sent.

Pages full of notes she wrote on the book. Things she wanted to share with him, but never had the chance to say. Written just recently, the later notes were in fresher ink.

She still wrote these things. Just as a way to talk to him.

I didn't understand all she had written. Obviously some entries were a code of inside jokes and personal references, but the spirit of her notes were clear. This was her way of holding on.

∞ ∞ ∞

Jonathan Livingston Seagull

Remember that book you gave to me about the seagull?... I really miss that seagull and I've been thinking about that story a lot lately. I know I never commented on it very much and I know you hated that. But I didn't want you to think I didn't enjoy it. Quite the opposite, in fact. I liked it very much and I wanted to wait to share my thoughts until I could articulate them more clearly.

pg. 14: Parents - You Can't Make a living acting / You Can't Make a Living playing the drums. US - Fine we'll make it a hobbie - a Big hobbie. Loved-ones can be so detrimental to dreams. Especially parents. I know your parents were. That broke my heart because you were a dreamer and I know their discouragement made things hard for you.

But you never were discouraging to dreams. You taught me that people who belittle my ambitions were weak. You taught me that people who serve to encourage my hopes and dreams are people of greatness, because they want me to accomplish my desires as successfully as they have their own.

pg. 28: Did I ever tell you one of the things I always wanted to do was to be a racecar driver? Did I ever tell you reasons why I wanted to be a racecar driver (some anyway) ? It isn't easy to describe... I still have a problem with speed. I'm lucky we only own a little Mazda.

pg. Inner Control is an amazing thing. Inner Control brings back many memories: Some when it was used and then others in which it should have been used. On the same note dreams are a part of it. I could write a book on this page.

pg. 52: BTMS

pg. 53: You were and are like the spiritglow reflection of myself. An angel come to take me home...

I came home when I was married. I left some ghosts along the way that will again rejoin me someday before the ultimate home.

But where and what is that?

And how does it exist at all?

pgs. 64-65: “Whoa” - what was here before Us before earth - Nothing? Nothing is something - Black - Black is something - Air - Air is something - There has always been something. IS God forever? What is forever? What was before forever? How was God created?

And what of the thoughts of being everywhere and everywhen? Could you be?

pg. 79: You Could never have been everywhere because France in the 1800's is a different place than France in the 1900's and so on.

pg. 80: I told a friend that I was going to Africa. She told me “that's unrealistic.” So was me traveling to Europe the summer of junior year. So was being in charge of “Pride In Uniform” my 1st yr. in college - Shall I go on or is the point made?

pg. 81: Never be unimpressed with creation

pg. 87: In the middle of here and now we'll meet again.

pg. 89: Sometime I'm afraid of the outlaw in me

pg. 103: Wind + feather

pg. 114: Too many bodies hold themselves back JUST DO IT!

pg. 120: We have all left our level at one time or another - I myself have many times.

pg. 123: Some reasons why I love to teach P.S. every class has its bad apples + sometimes they're the best apples of all.

∞ ∞ ∞

Staring at her, I finally saw the truth.

Her marriage was over. Her life was over. Depression is why she was home alone and sleeping at 6pm on christmas eve.

Lost.

Just like I was, when Elric came to Me.

This moment is why I was here.

It all came together.

I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I had to turn Sasha into One of Us. Honestly, I began to think that may be what Elric wanted from Me all along. That is why He was never angry with Me for following Him to her place. Secretly, He wanted Me to know about her. He wanted Me to know where She lives. He wanted Me to be the One to do it. If I were to Turn her, at last, they could finally be together again.

Elric would never need to feel the guilt of killing Sasha himself, if I did it for Him.

Yes. The more I thought of it, the more it made sense to Me.

This is what He truly wanted.

This is why I exist.

Elric didn't truly love Me. I was just another little Pawn in His Killing Game. His love for Me was a lie. I was nothing to Him. I was just some dumb little girl for Him to use and manipulate in His master plan. This is why He made Me immortal. He did it for Sasha. I was His final hope. I was the way they could finally be reunited again. Forever.

I would do anything for Elric, even if it broke My heart.

∞ ∞ ∞

An Eulogium for Scott

Tears at times fell so hard that my hands, arms and face literally fell asleep and went numb with tingling pins and needles. That scared me. I've never cried that hard. I didn't know what was happening to me. I told a friend of mine that I had to block it out; because whenever I allowed myself to think about it, I felt as if I were drowning a thousand miles under a black sea. When I saw the overwhelming power of that black sea, I became paralyzed with the pain and terror of knowing that it was mightier than I. If I tried to fight it, I would be destroyed. So I blocked the thoughts out as much as I could. I had to.

His mother gently told me, “People will always have a hard time understanding what it was that you and Scott had. But don't let that make you feel bad. It's good. It just goes to show how special your relationship was.”

We are all blessed and privileged beyond belief: Out of the billions of people in this world, we are the few who knew him. He touched all our lives... and what greater honor have I ever known than the pride of calling him a friend?

I never knew anyone quite like him - and believe me... I have looked. With his passing, my life has been irrevocably altered for all time. One day, I will know joy again. Already, we have all laughed a time or two. But nothing I ever do will quite be the same again. My life is now different forever.

No one ever tells you that.

The first time that someone you love dies, your whole universe is changed. Forever. If I had been forced to choose a person, to end their life, Scott would've been the last person in my life I would have ever chosen to die. When your true love dies, you see life and the world in a whole different light. And complete strangers will treat you differently when they learn of your plight. You're viewed with an aloof, almost awestruck admiration. For everyone knows that what you have endured is one of their greatest fears.

Every ray of sunlight I see, I must relish and savor more than ever. Because I have to experience these things for him as well as myself. So must we all.

Audrey Hepburn once said, “Your good-old-days are still ahead of you. May you have many of them.” For him, I now need to have twice as many. If I walk this earth for a thousand more years, never will I forget him. Never will I meet his equal. Time shall not diminish the impact he had on my life. He is not made of ashes. Not of dust. Thou art made of starlight, my love.

A hundred trillion words could never tell the heavens how much I cherish all he is. All he was. And all he shall be. I know that I will never feel as if I've said enough. Forever will I wish that these pages had been longer. That I had written a lot more. Never will I feel I've done enough to tell the world just how magnificent a spirit Scott was. As time goes by, I fear these words will look more and more pale to me. Inadequate. These lines all feel so overwhelmingly petty to express what I feel.

No words can capture the sorrow.

No words can express the joy.

I would give up any other day - I would sacrifice any memory I possess just to spend one more moment with him. He was the brightest music and the happiest days. A unicorn heart in an angels soul. Never shall I meet another jewel with the same brilliance or luster nor with as many facets to reflect the light of life, love and laughter.

∞ ∞ ∞

Out of the flames of her fireplace I walked.

Sarah McLachlan's Surfacing album moved to the next song and “I Love You” hushed through the room.

Your pain will soon be at an end, Sasha.

I am here.

I am your savior.

I am the messenger of your Love.

I will return you to Him, where you belong.

This is where My story would end.

I will give her eternal life.

Then, I will take My Own.

I love You, Elric.

∞ ∞ ∞

Kneeling down next to her sleeping form, My hand moved up to brush the hair away from Sasha's neck.

As My fangs neared her throat, a sound slammed into every atom of My body, louder than anything I had ever heard.

“HELLE!”

Elric's voice reverberated both in My head and across the night, with the volume of a derailing freight train. The giant bay windows of the livingroom exploded in a hail of glass and shadow and snow.

Sasha leapt off the couch, disoriented and horrified by the noise, as the force knocked Me back across the room. My head cracked into the stone of the fireplace.

Elric stood in the debris of the windowframe, His eyes burning a fury.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?”

Never had I seen such anger in Him.

“I - I was - I - I thought You wanted - ”

He jumped across the room and tackled Me, clawing a brutal hand into My throat. This wasn't the foreplay of Our sex. This was unmitigated rage.

“Wanted what?” His words were molten.

I heard bone crunch in My neck as His grip tightened and His fangs bared fire.

I could hardly speak. No air. No breath. “I was... Turning... Her... for You.”

He let Me go.

Rage melted into confusion.

Meanwhile, Sasha was laying propped back on her arms, staring at Us in complete disbelief. She was half-crying and half-screaming. Sounds choking in her throat. This couldn't be happening.

“What?” Elric whispered with shock.

I was pissed at Him for going off on Me. “I thought that's what You wanted!”

“What I wanted? Hel, are You fucking insane!?”

“I thought You wanted her.”

“What the fuck is going on Your head!?”

“I thought You wanted this!”

He didn't even speak after that. Clearly, I was wrong. Elric was in such utter shock that He couldn't form a sentence. Finally, He shouted, “No! I need You! I only ever needed You.”

“Bullshit.”

“Bullshit? Don't You fucking get it? Every darkness to touch My life, every pain, every evil and cruelty has led Me to You. You have been the inevitable destiny of My whole life, since I was born upon this earth. Everything has led to You. She hasn't the strength for the shadows.” He gestured to Sasha nonchalantly, then back to Me. “Look at Me. I need You. Only You. Light and dark. Shadows and dusk. Hate and love.”

Now I was the one who was speechless.

He held out a hand. “Come to Me, Hel. Leave her. You are My Bride eternal. Never shall there be another.”

I couldn't help but smile when He called Me “Hel” again. He wasn't staying mad at Me if He was calling Me that. I quickly brushed away My grin, for fear He'd think I was being flippant.

“You know You wanted this!” I said, still testing Him. “That's why You made Me.”

I don't know why I couldn't shut the fuck up.

“Why I made You? Have You lost Your goddamn mind!? What the fuck are You talking about? Why the fuck wouldn't I just Turn her Myself? What the hell would I need You to do it for?!”

“So You wouldn't feel guilty about - ”

“ - Scott?!” Sasha screamed.

Apparently she had already called His mortal name several times. We had simply never heard her.

Elric shut His eyes and winced, as if her voice were a knife to His back. He didn't look towards her.

Keeping His eyes closed, He said to Me, “You've - You've done what I never - You've done something that - ”

“ - I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know. I'm sorry.” The stupidity of My actions began to set in as I reached a hand out to beg forgiveness.

“She was never supposed to know!”

“Scott? Look at me! You're alive!?” Sasha had clamored to her feet and came towards Us, crying. Her cane forgotten, she stumbled as she walked.

“Damn, You, Hel.” His words whispered. “She was never supposed to know.”

Quickly, He shot His hand out towards Sasha, but never looked her in the eye. Once she saw His face, she stopped. Fear swept over her.

“You - You look - You...” Her breathing grew heavy. She shifted her gaze and cocked her head. Confusion washed over her.

She saw the change which fills all mortals with horror.

“What... are You?” Sasha asked in fear, backing away.

Looking back at Me, Elric asked, “Why did You do this?”

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought You wanted this. I thought maybe You Made Me, so You could have Another Turn her. Because... - ” I couldn't say the words.

“Because what, Hel?”

“Because You love her more than Me.”

As soon as the words left My lips, I saw how much it hurt Elric to hear. I had never been so happy to cause Him pain.

“What are You?! Get out of here!” Sasha screamed again. She stumbled backwards and fell against her couch. Cold wind filled the room from the shattered windows. Sasha curled up with the blanket and began to cry. “This isn't real. This isn't real.” She began to repeat. She shut her eyes hard, praying the nightmare would go away.

Elric walked past Me, to the fireplace mantle.

Just when I thought he was never going to speak, He turned around and faced us both. Although, His gaze was only upon Me. He never looked at her.

“Listen to Me very carefully, Hel. I do not love her. I never have.”

“Bullshit! You've haunted each other -”

“ - No, Hel. She haunted Me, because of a life I couldn't say goodbye to! A life that was stolen from Me for no fucking reason! Let Me tell You what You don't know about her - You are jealous because You think I visit her all the time. What You don't see is that these visits are not My way of holding on to her. They used to be. What You don't know is that I used to visit her everynight. Every. Single. Night.”

His face showed how ashamed He was to admit that. “I never even admitted that in My noctuaries. But since You came along, I've stopped. You are My life. You are My Queen. After I found You, I kept on visiting Sasha to say My long goodbye. Not to hold onto her, but to let her go. She has become nothing to Me but torment! My only true salvation... is You. Coming here. Seeing her. It was because I couldn't let go. Don't You see? I did not create You to bring her back to Me. It's just the opposite, for fuck sake! I created You to save Me from her ghost. My life with her was nothing but a dream! But since then, I've come to see the truth. You are the only real love I have ever known. Not her. You are the love of My life... and of My death.”

Elric never said anything like that to Me before. He was right. I had no idea that He visited Sasha less after He met Me. And knowing that one little piece of information changed everything.

What a fool I had been.

“But she will always be Your first love.” I whispered to the glass sparkling on floor.

Elric lifted My chin, gently. “No. She was what I called My first love when I didn't understand what love truly was. You are My first love, Hel. My only love.”

“How can You say all that, when You were just watching her three days ago?” I said with a furrowed brow.

Elric smiled gingerly. “Because a lot has happened in the last three days, My beloved. Jacqueline. Fredericka. I felt nothing with them. You know that? No passion. No desire. Everything changed once I learned the truth. Because I realized something.”

“Oh? What was that?” I still spoke incredulously.

Elric looked Me deep in the eyes.

I could see by His pause, He wanted Me to pay careful attention to what He said next. “I realized that Jacqueline loved who She thought I was. Sasha, loved what I had been. There is only one Creature Who has ever loved what I truly am, and that is You. You, Hel. You are the only soul in the world who accepts Me for what I am. You and You alone cherish My light and darkness. You're the only One who did not fear My shadows or run from them. You never put My light on a pedestal. Because You have that wolfblood and moonlight in You too. Only You accept and adore Me without question.”

“Others would love You too, if You only gave them a chance to see - ”

“ - Oh, stop. I've heard that since I was a mortal and it's bullshit. I don't want the whole fucking world to love Me. I don't need it to. I just need You. Just You.”

Although no one touched it, the stereo clicked into The Escape Club and “I'll Be There” came on. Another of Sasha's songs to reminisce as she wrote down her memories.

Appreciating His comment of wolfblood and moonlight, I said, “I was lost in the dark forest. And You guided Me out. You saved Me, Elric. I can never repay You for that. And I will always love You. I loved You from the first moment I heard Your voice.”

“We've never left the dark forest, My love. I didn't show You the way out. Once You've come this far into the darkwood, there is no hope of escape. You must wander these paths for eternity. I simply showed You how to make a home with Me, among the glades.”

“We saved each Other.” I smiled, understanding for the first time.

“Indeed. Only in the darkest forest can You see the brightest starlight.”

Grinning, I asked, “And to whom do You belong now?”

In a flash, Elric grabbed My wrist and thrust My fingers into His Own chest. His heart pulsed just under My fingertips. I gasped, shocked by the speed and violence of His action. Staring Me down, He spoke with insanity brimming in His eyes, “Hear this now - I am Your Lord and Master, and Your only Slave for all eternity. There is no other. Even god has forsaken You. Your father abandoned You. Your mother betrayed You. Yet I am Yours forever. Never shall I love another but Thee. Thou alone command every drop of blood in My heart, for all time. I am Your servant. You alone have possession of My immortal soul, beyond the ending of the world. You are My only Queen. Never will I taste another immortal blood but Yours.”

I was shocked.

He released My hand.

What could I say to that?

Never taste another immortal blood?

Did He mean that? What of Camillia? Jacqueline?

My simper grew slowly as I dropped My head to His chest and licked His wounds to healing. Sucking His blood from My fingertips.

Sasha pulled the blanket from her face.

Snapping her out of her trance, Sasha opened her eyes again.

Finding the courage to force her way though her terror and confusion, she gasped for breath and stood on her feet.

“Shut up. Shut up! What are You? How can You say those things? Scott always loved me! What are You!?” Sasha screamed. “You're not him! You can't be.”

Her words may have been shoving Him away, but her eyes showed her yearning to touch Him once again.

Elric could not bring His gaze up to meet hers. He stared at the floor, afraid to meet her eyes. As she stepped towards Him, she reached for His cheek. Unable to bear the thought of being touched by her, He finally looked up, knowing His face would freeze her where she stood.

- don't be afraid, oh My love -

For the first time, their gazes met. Oceans of emotions riddled His eyes. The two lovers saw each other, face-to-face for the first time. So much lost. So much gone.

The world shattered, ten thousand times over.

- I'd give all the world tonight to be with you -

He lied.

Everything He said to Me was untrue.

He would never stop loving her.

But I knew He would never come see her again.

As He stood there in silence, wind and snow ripping around the room, I knew He wanted to speak to her. To say something. Say anything. Comfort her. Reassure her. But what words would matter?

- I may have died but I've gone nowhere -

What could He possibly say?

His jaw quivered. He wanted so desperately to apologize to her. To take it all back. To give her a kind word. To say He'd never leave her. To tell her He belonged to her forever.

But He couldn't.

Because those would be lies too.

In that moment, when all reason was lost, He began to cry.

I never saw Him cry before. Ever. Not like this.

And if I had, I didn't remember it. Because in that moment, He cried with a sincerity I've never seen in anyone.

Crystalline bright in the christmas tree light, watery tears rolled down His cheeks.

I heard Myself gasp.

As My voice broke His spell, Elric turned to face Me, and His tears turned to blood once more. But His cheeks were still wet with the clear ocean waters.

Sasha had no idea what had just happened.

But I knew. I realized.

What He had done was impossible.

He had saved the last of His tears for her.

This was the end of the long goodbye.

Turning away from her, He looked at Me and said, “You're wrong, Hel. I heard Your thoughts. These are not tears of pain and loss. These are tears of joy. The words You think I'm struggling to find are not for her. They're for You. You're the One I'll be watching from above. Not her. Through wind and rain. Across the wide and open sky. The song is for You. How do You think I found You tonight? You just think of Me, and I'll be there.”

My heart melted and everything felt like the edge of a waking dream. “This was Your goodbye.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. After what You have done, She will never again be a part of My world. Because You deserve all of Me. No more haunting. No more ghosts. For either of Us.”

I had never seen Him look more cruel. Never had He looked more evil. Never had I desired Him more than I did in that instant - when He abandoned His first love to swear His undying devotion to Me. That was the moment He truly died. That was the moment I utterly surrendered My life to Him.

As Sasha grabbed to hold Him, her arms wrapped around nothing but smoke and shadow, and He was gone.

He had never said a word to her.

He had never spoken her name.

Maybe He really was over her.

Maybe He really was done with her ghost.

Sasha's eyes darted around the vanishing dust like a tortured animal in a cage. My presence in the room was all but forgotten. She didn't even see Me anymore.

What had she seen?

What just happened?

One can only imagine the anguish felt by a jailed soul, when visiting hours end, and they are bade return to a godforsaken cell. As Sasha was left alone in the wintry room, it would seem to her all which transpired had happened ages past or perhaps even unto a person of whom she only dreamed.

Elric would never hide this from her. He would never make her forget these events or change her memories. He wasn't trying to be cruel. On the contrary, He simply had no desire to ever use any of Our dark powers on her soul. And so was she broken, as one beheaded by angel wings.

I knew I could never change her memories either, for fear of His wrath. I had done enough already.

“Come home, Hel. Leave her be. We shall never return here again.”

“Yes, Master.” I curtsied to the shadows. I wasn't being sarcastic. In fact, I did so with utmost respect.

Turning My back to leave, the last I saw of Sasha, she was on her knees, fists clenched, wailing His mortal name as her tears streamed to the floor.

Madness would blossom in her like never before.

Smiling, My whole world changed in that instant.

In the past, I had never wanted to be loved the way Elric loves Me. I had boyfriends who would call Me everyday and it drove Me crazy. Now I find that I need Him with Me every minute. What We share is more than love. Deeper than Our immortal connection and the sharing of blood and the dark faerie bonds of the Unseelie Court to which We are beholden.

More than all of that.

Something tells Me the magic and supernatural passion of Our bond would exist even if We were still mortal.

In that moment everything changed.

Because Elric finally belonged to Me, in a way He never had to Her.

Chapter Eight

Reaching home, the Unseelie Estate showed no signs of the christmas season. No trees or decorations. No lights. Just the winter chill and dark.

Elric and I walked up the front stairs hand in hand.

We had said nothing on the long walk home.

Both of Us deep in thought of all which had transpired these nights.

Pausing before the door of the mansion, Elric looked at Me. He took one deep breath, and smiled with His eyes. His body language said it all, “Act like everything is normal. Reveal nothing.”

Understanding, I nodded and smiled back at Him.

Sometimes I wonder if He'd still be alive if I had listened.

∞ ∞ ∞

Within the cavernous mansion, Camillia was feeding on a gentleman in Our conservatory.

He collapsed off of the bench while Camillia licked Her lips and went back to playing the dulcimer. It may have been comical if he was more noticeable.

“Good evening, My Children. How were things with Jacqueline?” She asked.

“Great.” Elric reported. “Everything was, um, well, it was weird. But, it was okay, I guess.”

Camillia set the instrument aside and took hold of Elric's hands.

“My Love,” She said, “Forgive Me for My part in this deception. You understand that I was simply doing what I thought was best for My Sister.”

Sometimes I thought the formality with which She spoke was bizarre. Then I'd remind Myself the age She was born unto, and it no longer seemed so strange. Both Allyson and Jacqueline seemed so much more “modern” in Their speech and Their personalities, but I think that's because Camillia had the need to conduct Herself as a Queen. She spent too much time at the Estate, and it reflected in Her mannerisms. The surrounding environment does that. Hang out too long in a sports bar and you constantly behave like a douchebag asshole. Hang out too long in an ancient mansion and you always carry yourself with a refined dignity.

Elric nodded to Her, “I know. I know. I understand that.”

“Do You?” Camillia implored.

“Yes, Camillia. I do. I swear. I'm not upset or anything. I mean, it was all a huge shock, of course, but, I'm not angry with You. Not at all.”

“Good. Good.” Camillia smiled. “So what else did You Two get up to these past few nights?”

The Lollipoploser flier was still in My pocket.

I had almost forgotten about it.

Excited, I handed it to Her. “Oh! Did Allyson tell You about this?”

As She looked at the flier, Her face changed. Her gaze grew slowly angered until finally She lashed out, “A concert? Like I care about a fucking concert? I asked where have You been!? That's what I fucking care about right now!”

Elric and I were both stunned.

What the fuck just happened?

She completely changed in, like, ten seconds.

“You may not be mad at Me, but I'm furious with You!” Camillia yelled. Camillia would never dare speak to Us like that, nor to reprimand Elric.

Before Either of Us had a chance to say anything back to Her, Camillia continued, “I took You in for Her! Do You understand that? Everything in Your world, You have because I was protecting My Sister. And I grew to love You just as much as Jacqueline does! Then You bring Helle into Our Coven, without so much as mentioning Her to Me. Now You're staying out for days, fucking My Sister, Who loved You first anyway! So where does that leave Me? I'm just the One Who gave You everything!”

We stood there shocked at Her outburst. Neither Elric nor myself ever thought to contact Camillia during the days We were gone. Why should We? It didn't seem like a big deal. Clearly, it was a huge deal to Her.

Neither One of Us knew what to say.

It was the only time I've ever seen anyone dare confront Elric. Even more shocking was the fact that He didn't lash back at Her. Bright as He may be, My King is full of little more than malevolence and rage and lust. But even He had to concede to His neglect. Camillia was right and He knew it. He was nothing. He was no one. He wasn't deserving of being treated like royalty. Camillia could have turned He and Jacqueline away, and left Elric to scavenge for blood in the streets, like the lowliest of Our species. But She didn't. Camillia took Him in. Cared for Him. Gave Him power and wealth and prestige. Everything He had was thanks to Her. By extension, everything I had was thanks to Camillia as well. And lately, We had sorely taken Her generosity for granted.

We were indeed two scolded Children without a leg to stand upon.

Both of Us were speaking at the same time, trying to beg Her for forgiveness and stick up for each Other.

“I - I'm sorry. I - ”

“ - We didn't mean to be rude. It was - ”

“ - Yeah, We weren't trying to be disrespectful - ”

“ - just, We were totally inconsiderate. I mean, We apologize. I did - ”

“ - I'm really sorry. That -”

“ - not mean to be so ungrateful.”

“ - was totally inappropriate.”

Camillia took the Lollipoploser flier and threw it at Me as She stormed out of the room. She didn't say another word, but I think She cussed Us out in French as She crossed into the next antechamber.

Elric and I looked at each other and sighed and circled like agitated cats. Running His fingers through His hair, He collapsed on a gilded loveseat. “Fuck!” He grunted in exasperation.

“Maybe later.” I said, curling up next to Him.

He didn't laugh. He didn't smile. He just looked at Me like I was a complete idiot. Just when I started to feel like a jackass, He started to chuckle.

“Little asshole.” He mumbled, whacking Me softly with a pillow.

“Oh.” I said in an innocent girly voice. “Not up there!”

Rolling His eyes, He ordered, “Cut it out!”

He tickled Me until I fell off the couch laughing.

Camillia's guest was still unconscious when Isaac came to retrieve his body and usher him back home.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Hey.” Allyson peeked into the room from the archway and said, “Come here. You have to see this.”

Obviously, She hadn't heard the whole fight with Camillia.

“I feel like a fucking idiot.” I said.

“Me too.” Elric replied.

“Should We go apologize?”

“No. No. Let Her calm down first.”

Allyson was still motioning for Us to follow Her.

Elric and I got up and walked into the next antechamber where gargantuan etched-glass windows overlooked the lawns and reflecting pools. Snow had began falling hard outside, turning everything into faeriedust sparkles.

Allyson didn't say another word. She just smiled and walked over to a nearby piano.

Elric and I stood, embracing, watching the snowfall. Dazzled by the chill of the frost. We hadn't said a word for quite some time, but things with Sasha were weighing heavily on My mind. Finally, I broke the silence.

“I'm sorry for what happened. I shouldn't have gone over her - ”

“ - Stop. No need to talk about it.” Elric said.

“But - ”

“ - But You did nothing wrong. On the contrary, what You did was the most selfless and loving thing I could ever imagine.”

“It fucked her up.”

“I fucked her up, Hel. If You had gone through with Your plans, she would be here right now. And I don't want that. I'd rather be here with You. Any pain she feels now is My responsibility. Not Yours.”

I hadn't thought of it that way.

“I guess.”

Elric turned to face Me. “Never. Again. We will not speak of this.”

Nodding, I finally understood. “No. Never again.”

From the corner of the conservatory, the first notes of “Fairytale Of New York” by The Pogues rang from the piano which Allyson was playing.

I laughed, “That's the second time I've heard this tonight.”

Elric began to sing. He did a damn hilarious and fine impression of a Shane McGowan drunken slur.

“It was christmas eve, Babe. In the drunktank! An ole man said to Me, 'Won't see another one.'...”

We walked over to the piano, all smiles.

Allyson joined in on, “They got cars big as bars...”

I began to laugh and dance in the expanse of the room, My feet light across the ornate hardwood floor.

I joined in on, “You're a bum, You're a punk...”

Elric took My hands and danced with Me as the song reeled and echoed. By the time We reached the end of the tune, I was smiling bigger and laughing harder than I had for many years on christmas.

At last.

There among darkness and demons and devils and horrid Creatures, in ancient and haunted rooms, with ghosts and fears and violence, I was finally home.

I finally had a family.

I finally felt like I mattered.

I finally felt loved.

And the truth is, maybe I wasn't.

Maybe cruel souls are not able to love.

Maybe it was all a lie.

Maybe it was all an illusion.

But I didn't care. I wanted to believe. So I did. Even if I knew it might never be real. Pretending to be loved felt better than knowing I wasn't.

Allyson started to play Loreena McKennitt and “Ce He Mise le Ulaingt (The Two Trees)” after that. Holding hands, Elric and I walked back to the window to watch the snow.

“I forgot how much I love this time of year.” I said.

“You forgot?” Elric asked.

Smiling, I told Him, “Yeah. You know, being with You has reminded Me.”

“What do You mean?”

I shrugged, “Well, in the time since My dad died, christmas has been awful. The first person I ever truly loved is the first person I've ever known to die. Couldn't love christmas after that. I hated it. Having to deal with My fucking stepdad and all that shit. I just grew to hate the holidays. I hated having to fake being happy and polite when I felt like shit all the time.”

Elric nodded. “Yeah. I hear You. Me too.”

“You too?”

“First person I ever loved was the first to die.”

I didn't understand.

“My little sister.” He had a hard time saying it.

“Oh. I'm sorry. Of course.” I nodded and quickly kept talking to steer away from that. I wasn't trying to be rude or insensitive. I just didn't want Him getting upset. “Well, I spent so much time hating the christmas season, I forgot that I used to love it, once upon a time.”

The words hung in the air, and Elric smiled.

I could see how happy I made Him, by telling Him that He was bringing Me such joy. My nightmare in shining armor.

Elric glanced back at Allyson, and whispered to Me. Excited to share a secret. “Hey. You want a christmas tree?”

My forehead wrinkled in confusion. “A christmas tree?”

Brown eyes sparkled. “Come on. I'll give You one.”

As He took Me by the hand and let Me out of the room, I said, “It better not be Your dick!” I imitated Him, “I'll show You My christmas tree, little Girl. Haw, haw, haw.”

He shot Me a scolding look as We left the mansion.

∞ ∞ ∞

We went out into the snowstorm, deep under the greenwood, over streams and glens to the recesses of Our estate, onto far reaches of lands I had never before seen. We never left the confines of the gargantuan stone walls encasing the grounds, so We were still upon Our lands, even though We delved far into forests I had never entered. Further in the shadethorns We walked and climbed. Beyond broken boughs and blackened leaves.

Snows and wind swirled and icicles danced on treelimbs like so many diamonds. Every inch of the winter wonderland was enchantment beyond measure. Hesperus herself shone ablaze with hailstone cinders.

Upon a nearby branch, a wintry bluejay boasted his splendor at the evening dazzle of snowdrifts. Strange to see him awake at such the hour, yet all the more wondrous to behold. All felt odd and serene, as though We stood as far as the moon from any other soul. Yet within that isolation was great comfort and nary a hint of lonesome. Snowfall gathered upon limbs like blossoms and the air was a chorus of wind. Soft wind which mellowed tender from the verdigris woods, like gentle hands of loving gods, carrying the scent of pine and creek and soil. Within the crystalline night I gazed, looking upon shimmering stars sparkling as the heavens of chapel light. Watching from the firmament like angelgrins. Soft clouds ran across the sky, dancing dizzy among those stars. Rushing fast in a kaleidoscope of childish delights. Clouds played just for Us, in endless shapes. At once bumblebees lumbering into bunnyrabbit hops. Then dragonboat sails tumbled into teddybear foibles, dashing fast for lollipop fluff in cotton silks and seafoam bubbles. Peering long into the fizzing mist of cloudshone wonder, it felt as though I could reach up and pluck the faerie smoke from the celestial sphere and watch it whirl about My hands. All the world seemed bound to glory and marveling and to be made just for We that night.

Finally, as We came atop the rise in a faeriemound, there it stood. The holy tree, the most glorious christmas tree I had ever seen. We gazed upon a lone pine giant, the moonrise just at the peak and stars glittering betwixt the branches, as it rose high atop the hill.

I gasped.

“Oh, Elric.” My voice whispered in wonderment.

I could say nothing more.

Snowflakes fell cold upon My cheeks and I was frozen to the spot with awe. The stars glittered with merry light and quiet was planted in the night.

“Merry Christmas, Helle.” Elric said with eyes full of tender care.

“Merry Christmas, Scott.”

Never before or after did We speak Our mortal names again.

But in that moment, in that night, under those stars, the names were fitting and true. There, for just an instant, we were not the demons with their subtle guile. We were only beloved, gazing into our deepest hearts.

Did you ever imagine that certain words never existed before you were born? I mean, sure, you know that the words really did exist... but sometimes it seems like they hadn't.

Fate.

That word is one which feels like it came into being only after My arrival on Earth, so as to describe the inevitability of My nights with Elric.

To Me, an odd thing about life is that everything which happens always seems so inevitable in retrospect, no matter how inconceivable something may have been when it first occurred.

Elric was My fate. As was the beauty of this night. Always.

“Promise You'll never leave Me. Promise You'll love Me forever.”

“No.” Elric said.

My heart broke. “No?”

He stepped back, gesturing to the glorious and sacred branches. “My love for You goes beyond vows and promises, My Queen. Do the stars promise to shine everynight? Does the wind promise to blow? Do the seas promise to churn? No. My love for You is as timeless as the stars, and the winds, and the sea. As the tides rise and fall, as mountains crumble and climb to the heavens, My love shall endure, no matter if I make promises or not. I am forevermore Yours, regardless of vows.”

I started to cry. “Oh, Elric.”

I let Him hold Me close. “I will always belong to You.”

“I know, Baby.”

I sniffled. “But if You ever go bald, I'm leaving You.”

“What!? Excuse Me? Oh, fuck You!”

“I'm sorry. I can't do it. I just don't find bald men attractive.”

“Okay. Bitch?” Elric said, very sarcastically. “Okay, first of all, I'm immortal, jackass - Can't go bald. Second - if I did, You aren't leaving shit, because I will hunt Your ass down and fucking kill You. Third - way to ruin a romantic moment! You fucker. I bring You to a magical place, I'm being all sweet and dreamy and You have to go and screw it up - “Oh, Hel, I'll love You forever.”” He imitated Me, ““Okay, but if You go bald I'm dumping Your ass.” Fucking cuntrag.”

I snorted. “Did You just call Me a cuntrag?”

“No. I called You a fucking cuntrag. What, are You deaf and a bitch? Pay attention, shit-for-brains.”

I gasped, but not with awe this time. “Oh! Oh, no! That does it! I'm going to - ”

“ - You're going to shut Your mouth, Whore.”

Elric kissed Me.

Finally.

Deep and long and passionate, I pretended to resist at first. I couldn't maintain the charade for long. He knew how to kiss Me in a way that made My legs turn into butter.

Lost in Him, lost in His love for Me, all the drama of the night melted away. I forgot about Fredericka and Sasha and Camillia and everything.

All I knew was Him.

Dizzy with adoring all He was.

“I'm Your Whore.” I whispered.

“That's naughty.”

I shook My head, kissing Him between breaths to speak. “No, no, Baby. I have My eyes closed. When You say things with Your eyes closed, it's automatically more romantic.”

Elric laughed. “Oh. I see. So if I call You a slutty whore bitch with My eyes open, it's an insult. But if I whisper with My eyes closed, it's romantic?”

“Pssh! You don't even need to whisper it. Just closing Your eyes.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Seriously, try it. Close You eyes, then say something and it will automatically be more romantic.”

Elric shut His eyes and said, “Okay. You're a slutty whore bitch.”

“Mmm. Thank You.”

He laughed more.

I explained, “See? I told You.”

“You're a freak.”

“I love You too.”

∞ ∞ ∞

As dawn approached, We walked slowly back to the mansion.

I didn't want to leave that tree. That brumal cathedral. The stars. The night. Those amazing words Elric had said to Me.

I did kind of ruin the moment. He was right.

I was just embarrassed because I knew I couldn't say anything so sweet back to Him. I just couldn't talk as sweet as He did and it bothered Me.

“We need to apologize to Her.” Elric said, snow crunching underfoot.

I knew “Her” obviously meant Camillia.

“We?” I questioned.

Elric snapped His eyes at Me all pissy. “Yes, We. Okay? This isn't all on Me. She threw the flier at You, in case You forgot. We need to apologize to Her when We get back.”

“She threw the flier at You.” I muttered sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah. Eternity with Your snotty ass is gonna be just great. I can tell already.”

“I didn't really like what She said, about You creating Me without permission.” I pouted.

Elric stopped and didn't take another step.

“What?” I asked.

“Think about what You just said.”

I had no clue what He meant. “What? I thought it was rude for Camillia to say that. It was like She was saying I was unwelcome - ”

“ - Hel! It means that I defied the proper etiquette to create You. Maybe instead of bitching about feeling insulted, You should appreciate the rules I bent because of My love for You.”

I hadn't seen it from that viewpoint, and He was right.

I kissed His cheek and He kissed Me back.

“Fucker.”

“You better be saying that with Your eyes closed.” I said.

Elric chortled. “I'll be saying it with My foot up Your ass, You don't stop being a douche.”

God I fucking love Him.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Where the hell is She?” Elric said, as We set foot inside.

He looked at Me and I could feel it too - Her presence was not there. She wasn't anywhere inside the castle.

Our servant Issac came into the room as Allyson walked with him, talking about some designer clothing She wanted him to procure.

“Mi'Lady, Hel. Mi'Lord, Elric.” Issac greeted with a bow.

“Issac?” Elric asked. “Camillia is not within the mansion. Where has She gone?”

Elric always spoke a little more properly to Issac.

He'd never say, “Where's Camillia?” He'd always sound more civil.

“Los Angeles.” Issac answered.

“Los Angeles?” I repeated in shock.

Issac turned to Me, saying, “Indeed, Mi'Lady. She stated that She required some time to Herself and left immediately.”

“When was that?”

“Approximately four hours ago, Mi'Lady.”

“Her party is tomorrow night!” I said. There would be a huge amount of guests at the Estate and She wouldn't be there.

Elric looked at Me in exasperation. “Damnit.”

He paused for only a moment, resting His hands on a chairback, then added, “I'll bring Her back home. That's what She wants.”

“No.” I said.

“Yes.” He corrected. “This is the kind of drama You women start. You women do this shit to test relationships. I know. I know how You think.”

I would have scolded Him for the sexist “You women” remark if He wasn't right about it. He wasn't being sexist. He was being perceptive.

But as a woman, I also knew this wasn't about Him.

I shook My head. “No, Elric. Not this time. Trust Me. I will go.”

“You? Why would You go?”

“Elric, She's upset with You, but all of this started because of Me. You heard what She said. She's mad about Me. She's mad about Jacqueline showing up. That's because of Me too! Jacqueline wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Me. This isn't about You. It's about Me. I should be the One to smooth things over. I'll bring Her back. Please, let Me do it.”

Elric thought it over. “We should go together.”

“No. We go running off together, then it's like We're ganging up on Her. I should be the first to apologize and I should do it alone.”

Elric was clearly unhappy with the idea. But in a few moments, He finally relented and said, “Okay. Okay, fine. You going to be okay by Yourself?”

I glared.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “Stupid question.”

Issac chimed in, “Mi'Lady, Hel? If I may, perhaps waiting until tomorrow evening to depart would be more prudent. Camillia took the fastest jet the estate owns. The Cessna Citation Ten is the only remaining aircraft at the Cuyahoga County Airport. Hopkins and Burke house only the slower planes.”

Allyson hadn't said a word this whole time, but suddenly She spoke up and clarified, “Takes a little over 3 hours to reach Los Angeles in the Citation. It will be daylight by then. Issac is right. You'll need to wait.”

I nodded. “Okay. Then I will leave an after sunset tomorrow. Where would Camillia be?”

Elric shrugged. “I have no idea.”

He was making this too difficult. “Whom do I greet in Los Angeles?”

Elric looked confused. “Greet?”

“You explained that Royal Families must be informed when Kindred look to enter a new city. Whom do I greet? What Family controls Los Angeles?” I asked.

“There isn't one.” Allyson said.

I was shocked. Such a famous city had no vampiric hierarchy? No royalty? How was that possible? “Doesn't Anyone rule Los Angeles? Isn't there a King and Queen?”

Elric elaborated with a chuckle. “No. Los Angeles is entropy incarnate, My Love. The city has no ruler.”

Confused, I asked, “So, how can I find Her? How do I find Camillia? Look to the shadows?”

Elric looked uneasy, saying, “No, Hel. This is precisely why I wondered if You'd be okay. The world over there is vastly different than what You are accustomed to here.”

“How so?”

“The green and gray shadows of Our Dominion are just... different.”

Allyson said, “There's something You need to understand about Los Angeles. The Unseelie Court has no presence beyond the deserts. The realm by the great sea is a graveyard of spirit. A wasteland.”

“Walk in their valleys for only a minute and you can feel it. The spirits are only whispers. The land is very, very old,” Elric explained. “It was created in ancient times, as a place of banishment. Despite what hippie mortals might believe, there are no forces of light or darkness among those mountains. The landscape is a place of desolation for the outcast.”

I didn't understand. Los Angeles seemed so vibrant. Even if I could never see it during the day, it always looked so alive in movies and stuff. I asked, “If it's so bleak, why are so many humans drawn to it?"

Elric replied, “Those who seek serenity and peace love it, for the wind itself is silent. There are no voices on the breeze. Those with strong spirits find it a calming place to center themselves, for the barren sea holds only reflections of the soul - no light or darkness. No good or evil. But those people are a rarity. Most humans in the desert are just zombies. They call Our kind the Jinn.”

Allyson chuckled. “There are a lot of zombies there.”

Those statements kind of freaked Me out. Were They being serious right now? Literally? “Zombies?” I asked. “Like eating brains?”

Allyson laughed. “No. No. Not zombies like in the movies and shit. Zombie is just slang. A Pawn is a human We toy with. A revenant is a human who tastes the blood of a vampire. They are immortal, but have none of Our powers or weakesses, and they maintain their own free will. Most revenants think they are vampires, like Fredericka, but they aren't. Some revenants, like Issac, know what they are.”

Issac did not react and simply remained stoic as always.

Elric interrupted. “Yes, and Zombies are what We call humans that We control for extended periods of time. Most of them are aware that some dark forces have ensnared them, but they are oblivious to what is happening or how they are being manipulated.”

Allyson finished by saying, “Most of the powerful mortals in Hollywood are zombies. They just don't know it.”

The thought made Me chuckle. “That explains a lot of the cliches of Hollywood.”

Nodding, Elric grinned, “Yeah, it does, doesn't it? Despite all the clandestine secret cults invented by conspiracy theorists, the truth is so much simpler - braindead idiots puppeteered by an evil they don't even know exists.”

“Tomorrow is Her birthday too, You know.” Allyson announced.

In Her crazy, She must not have noticed I just said that.

“Camillia's. Yes. Christmas night.” Elric said, “The night She was Turned.”

Elric knew He was overexplaining the obvious. He said it very sarcastically to Allyson. In a tone that said, “Yes, We know. We realize that because Everyone has brought it up already.”

“Well, I'm going to bed.” Allyson announced suddenly. “Goodnight.”

Such an abrupt and awkward end to a conversation would have been weird for anyone else. But this was Allyson. Surprised She didn't strip naked first.

“Mi'Lady.” Issac bowed.

“Goonight, Ally.” Elric said.

“Goodnight.” I added.

Looking to Elric, I asked, “How many times have You been there?”

“Los Angeles? Never been.” Elric said.

“What!? After everything You just said?”

“I know what it's like. Doesn't mean I've been there.”

“How do You know if You've never seen it in person?” I sounded a little more whiny and bitchy than I intended to come across.

Elric ignored My tone. “I know Kindred living there. Plus Allyson and Camillia have told Me stories. Just repeating what I've been told.”

My head was kind of spinning from all this information being dumped on Me at once. I felt like I wanted more time. Had more questions.

As I stood there reeling, I slowly began to realize there really wasn't much more to ask.

Issac offered his leave and bid Us a good eve.

We retired to Our bedchambers.

Just like earlier, when I complained about using the word “life” to describe Our existence, because We are no longer living, I still couldn't get used to saying “goodnight” and “good evening” when We actually slept during daylight.

Again, I just kept My mouth shut because “goodnight” still sounds more fitting than “good morning”.

“I'm going to bed. Good morning.”

See?

Sounds retarded.

Who the fuck talks like that?

∞ ∞ ∞

When the dark was surrounding Us in Our bedchambers, I admired every curve of My Husband's flesh.

This was My first night alone with Him in ages, and now I'd be leaving Him the next night.

Maybe leaving wasn't such a good idea.

I savored Him in a way I rarely did. Gently. Softly. This was not the fury of animal passions like other nights. This was tenderness and love. This was vanilla and lilywhite and rose. Warm caresses and massage oils in candlelight of jude. Veiled shadows rippling across the huge gossamer of canopy lace over Our bed. The thought and fear swept over Me that He might call Me “Sasha” in the vertigo of Our union, but He never did such a thing. I don't know why the fuck My head went there.

I could see in His eyes that I was all He saw.

Every fluid movement was a dream. Dizzy to the clan of opium. Disjointed sensations of pleasure. His erection deep between My legs. Deep down My throat. Muscles rippling under My touch. The little waves of a taunt shoulder muscle into the hunks of meat in His back. My nipples growing taunt as He took them in His mouth. Sucking at My breasts as His cock would glide in and out like wet silk.

He kept Me waiting. Slowly building My orgasm in layer after layer. Pulling it from far within Me, like tingles inside the small of My back. Just as I was about to climax, He would slow His penetration, so the pleasure collapsed in upon itself. Each time He did that, each time My heart fell at the edge of desire, My lust peaked higher and higher.

Until finally, all those half-completed orgasms merged together and exploded out of Me all at once, sending ripples through every muscle of My body, straight down to the marrow of My bones.

As I squealed and squirmed and thought I could withstand no more pleasure, His tongue traced a line down to My clit. The moment I felt His beautiful lips wrap around My pussy, another series of flames rocketed down My thighs. I once joked that He needed to teach classes on tasting a woman, because other men needed to learn what He could do. He replied that He would never reveal His secrets. That night, there were no idle jokes to break the spell. Just My primal screams and grunts and moans which sounded like language, but were only primitive delirium and delight.

I was evermore His vermillion courtesan.

Thus flowed the blood again.

Oh, the velvet delight of His blood.

Blood hushing, soft as His breath. Blood boiling, as the heat of all My jealousy. Blood intertwining, weaving jute crosshatch in flesh with the clawtears of lovemaking. Blood splintering the dark, like the mirror girls shatter with a fist against rapist flashbacks. Blood rapt with anticipation, clutching the night like a loveletter which is never sent. Blood wailing, sharp as a battered child pleading for mercy. Blood flowing, deep as a midnight waltz under forbidden stars. Blood listening, like the sound of crimson and jasmine wine. Blood burning, with the anguish of knowing the one you love most will never speak to you again. Blood poisoning, the taste of warm lovers flesh. Blood coloring every drop of shadowmoaned lust.

No matter how intensely I lusted for the way He could rape Me savage, His lovemaking was godlike. Every moment with Him, I was undulating in a tropic warm sea. My body floating serene. Protected next to the giant leviathan whale, His gentle eyes all the comfort of Elric incarnate. Watching over Me. Always there for Me. Keeping Me safe from the awful depths of blackness. I would always float, so long as He swam beside Me.

His course, I knew, would forever run true.

He would never let Me go.

We were not fucking.

I was not a whore.

That night was lovemaking.

Sensual and sensual and sensual.

That night, I and I alone, was His world, was His Empress.

He was My universe.

Of one flesh.

Of one blood.

Of one soul.

∞ ∞ ∞

Elric and I lay there for a long time without speaking.

Now and then, My body continued to shudder from the aftershocks of My orgasms.

Knowing I'd be leaving the next night made Us both uneasy.

Elsewhere in the castle, I could hear the faint sound of “If You Go Away” by Emiliana Torrini. Perhaps being played by Allyson. Or perhaps it was only in My head. It was so faint I couldn't be sure. Honestly, I preferred the Frank Sinatra version anyway.

What was I thinking? I spent My entire existence looking for this Soulmate. He was My life (in this case the word was fitting) and My existence. Never should I leave Him. Not for an instant.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

- if you go away... then you might as well take the sun away -

Elric, twirling My hair, finally interrupted the silence between Us by saying, “Remember earlier when I asked if You'd be okay alone?”

“Yes.”

He sighed awkward and heavily. “Be careful, Hel.” Elric said. “There is... well... there is one secret from My past I never told You. I never told anyone. Something I've been keeping... very quiet.”

I furrowed My brow. “Oh? Great. What secret is that?”

- and the moon stood still for the nightbird song -

I heard Myself speaking slower than usual. Partially because I feared what He might say, partially out of simple exhaustion. A shudder hit Me again.

“Didn't You ever wonder why I never hunted Glenn down, so I could kill him?” Elric explained. “After I became immortal, why didn't I destroy all of his friends? Take revenge for what they did? We can hunt any mortal. Find them anywhere. Why didn't I hunt him?”

He was right. I thought of it. The question had crossed My mind several times, but I never dared ask until this moment. “Why didn't You?”

“I did. I never found him, Hel.” Elric shuddered, not with fear, but frustration.

“But that's not possible.” I said, turning to face Him.

“Exactly.”

I was really disturbed by this new bit of news. “Elric, what's going on?”

- for what good is love without loving you -

He shook His head. “I have no idea. The only person I ever truly trust is You. Since I made You, I know You have no way of knowing these answers.”

I flashed back to Our previous conversations and said, “When You said things all made sense - ”

“ - Yeah, I lied.” Elric pursed His lips apologetically. “We're still being deceived. We always have been. I just don't know by whom or why.”

I think I understood what He was getting at.

- there is nothing left in this world to trust -

“You want to come with Me to California, don't You?”

He grumbled, “No. No, I think it would be good for You to go it alone. Worried as I may be to separate, this could be good for You. Build some of that independence.” He winked.

“Since when did I say I wanted that? Fuck independence. Independence doesn't equal strength. It equals loneliness. I never want independence. I belong to You. I like belonging to you. I'm tired of being alone.”

“Yes, We belong to each other. Always. Which is why a few days apart will never change that.”

“What if it does? What if You run off with some sexy brunette vampire chick?”

Elric chuckled. “The only sexy vampire chick I need is You. Forever.”

He always said the right things. I needed Him forever too. I was still disturbed by His “independence” comment, and next thing I knew, I started ranting a bit. “The world is full of too many assholes who love their independence. That's why marriages fall apart. Used to be that people were eager and proud to belong to each other. Men and women wanted that. Being owned by a lover was representative of community and security and sacred bonds. These days it's seen as oppression. But it's not. Loneliness is oppressive, not belonging. Fucking selfish assholes just care about themselves these days. Soon as a relationship becomes unhappy or inconvenient, people file for divorce. Total bullshit.”

He took My ranting in stride. Elric said, “I know, Baby. I know. I agree with You 100%. You know that. But, You know marriage and divorce, those are mortal concerns. You and I, We exist beyond those things. What Our relationship is, it doesn't compare to the vows humans make. Ours is a very different connection. We don't live with those kinds of rituals anymore. Our bond runs far deeper and is far more sacred than any human union.”

That was when I realized My rambling. I told him, “Sorry. I know. I'm just getting cold feet about the trip, I guess. I'm just freaked because We've never been apart. Not since the night You made Me.”

“I know, Baby. You think I don't know that? That's why I'm a little freaked out too.”

“Aw. My little cub is going to miss His Momma.”

“More than You know.”

- I'll be dying slowly 'til the next hello -

“Maybe this isn't such a good idea.” I said.

“Camillia has never freaked out like that before.” Elric said, His tone still reflecting His shock. “Were She wrong, I'd say forget it. But She was right about everything She said. We owe everything to Her. We should make a dramatic effort to make amends. I may have a lot of power and influence, but it is all thanks to Her. We can't afford to have Her pissed off at Us.”

“You're right.” I conceded.

He kissed Me and as My hand moved down His back, I felt His erection growing against My thigh again.

I moaned as He slipped it into Me.

Maybe I'd have the flight leave an hour or two later. Or three.

Chapter Nine

Winter wildfires were scorching both the San Gabriel Mountains and the Santa Susana Mountains, making the final leg of My flight into Los Angeles look like a descent into the hellflames of Mount Doom and Mordor.

Fuck, Los Angeles is goddamn huge.

I pulled off My headphones as the plane circled down towards LAX. Brody Dalle was wailing “City Of Angels” with The Distillers as the headphones left My ears. Part of a “California mix” from My beloved Elric. I couldn't help but think “Los Angeles Is Burning” by Bad Religion would have been more fitting.

Fuck.

Fuck, that city was big.

Holy shit.

People say that all the time. “Oh, Los Angeles is huge.”

But I had no clue how huge until I was flying over it, and the lights just stretched out to the horizon in every direction. Then, to the west, the vast black of the Pacific unfurls like a velvet canvas in the dark. I was stunned to see the city was truly that enormous. Utterly monstrous. Didn't even seem real. How could humans construct something so gargantuan? Some people think New York City is big, but New York City isn't half the size of the City Of Angels. The fucking San Fernando Valley alone is five times bigger than Manhattan.

How could I ever hope to find Camillia in all of that?

There's something horrifying about the size of it.

I smiled to Myself as that thought crossed My mind, because I imagined Elric replying with, “That's what she said.”

Corny bastard.

∞ ∞ ∞

My rental Lamborghini Gallardo convertible was waiting for Me at the airport. Throttling north up the 405 with the top down, I took Elric's advice and ripped down Sunset Strip to Hollywood. Longer route, but quite the spectacle, especially with Courtney Love blaring her namesake “Sunset Strip” song. Totally felt like I was in a movie. I had a blast. Surreal to be in 70 degree weather in December too. Sure beats England or the Unseelie Estate back home.

My first stop was Sinister Bar, an underground gothclub in Hollywood.

Not knowing where Camillia was, Allyson had called Juliet and Helena Tamburry, two of Our kind, Whom I could stay with in Beverly Hills. Allyson never reached Them. Left a message. But, supposedly, the Mother and Daughter are usually at Sinister Bar on the weekends. Although Los Angeles had no Royal Family, Elric called Them “stewards” of the city. They were among the more respected and influential of the vampir in the City of Fallen Angels.

Everything Allyson and Elric had told Me about the spirit of Los Angeles proved true. Flying over the flame-encircled metropolis was one thing, but being inside the heart of Hollywood, the aura of the city became even more apparent.

There was an emptiness to the place, running deep as the ocean next to which it was born. The city embodied a desert-wrought desolation which rooted itself into the very concrete underfoot. No matter how many trees they planted, or roads they built, or homes they constructed, there was a dusty and arid charge in the wind which could not be shaken.

The air always smelled like drywall.

This land was very old.

These streets held no dark magic. All the shadows here were from the underbelly of humanity. Back home, I could feel the nightwind watching Me from every treebranch. Every slight breeze whispered a spirit. In Los Angeles, you could feel nothing. Barren as chaparral skeletons. Even the ghosts had forgotten their own names. The vigil of starlight was silence. The sound of the heavens never reached the earth.

∞ ∞ ∞

Sinister Bar was a small club on a lonely sidestreet, with an entrance located down an ornately-gated alleyway. Leaving the Lamborghini in a no parking zone, I sauntered down the alley. From inside the club, I could hear muffled basslines of “The Sparrows And The Nightingales” by Wolfsheim fading into “Covenant” by Bullet. Too young to enter the 18-and-over venue, I strutted confidently towards the doorman and melded into the shadows just before I reached him.

He was startled and confused for a moment.

The next instant, he had forgotten seeing Me.

Figuring it was just the drugs, he went right back to checking ID for the next batch of people in line.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Hel DuBois?” Juliet had coincidentally been right near the door and greeted Me just inside the entrance. Allyson and Elric had described Juliet and Her Mother before I left. I wasn't sure how She knew Me. Perhaps Allyson or Elric sent Her a picture?

Juliet looked to be about twenty as a mortal. In a deep maroon gothic gown, She had long, straight blonde hair over perfect honeydew breasts. Her hips were blessed with Mae West curves and a delicious backside.

“Juliet Tamburry.” I bowed to Her.

“Great to meet You!” Juliet hugged Me. I wasn't in much of a hugging mood, but if I were to stay with Them, I figured I should be diplomatic and amicable.

Hugging Her back, I said, “Great to meet You too! So, I take it You got Allyson's message?”

Juliet nodded. “Totally. Yes, You are more than welcome to stay with Me and My Mom as long as You want. No problem. Anything a DuBois needs, We are happy to help with.”

She wasn't what I expected.

Juliet was really incredible. In those few seconds, I could see why Elric liked Her. She was very bright and friendly and happy. But that was only on the surface. Inside, She had real darkness. Pain. Lust.

What She showed the world and what She was inside were very different things. What She showed the world wasn't Elric's type. What was inside was exactly the kind of shadowgirl He was drawn to.

What was the saying? Lady in the streets, slut in the sheets.

I immediately understood Her appeal and I liked Her right away.

“Once In A Lifetime” by Wolfsheim began to play.

Camillia was not at the club. I could feel it. Nevertheless, I asked, “Thank You. Have You seen Camillia?”

“No, I haven't. Allyson said You were looking for Her?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I have no idea. I haven't seen Her. My Mom said She hasn't either. But She does come here a lot. Camillia, I mean. Whenever She's in town. Maybe She'll turn up tonight?”

“You know where else I might find Her tonight? If She doesn't show?”

“Tonight?” Juliet pursed Her lips. “Hrm. No, not really. Most of the clubs out here are like one-night-only deals. So, tonight, this is really the only underground club. Then tomorrow there's a different one. Tomorrow You might try Malediction Society at Club Monte Cristo. But I'm sure You know that already.”

“No. I've never been here before.”

“You've never been to Sinister?”

“Never been to California.”

“Really!? Oh, My gosh! Then let Me show You around!”

Taking Her arm, I couldn't help but smile, remembering I'd just done the same thing, showing Jacqueline around The Gothic Rainbow.

∞ ∞ ∞

Sinister Bar was small, but well laid-out as nightclubs go. As We moved through the crowd, there were a number of Our Kind in the mix. I was surprised how Many there were. All those Who were vampir seemed to whisper and sidle after seeing Me.

“It's Her.”

“No way.”

“Holy shit. Hel DuBois?”

Out in back of the club was a huge patio area with an outdoor stage for live shows. People mingled and talked, the music much quieter on the patio. Mohawks, leather and latex abounded in black. I felt right at home. The crowd looked exactly like patrons of The Gothic Rainbow, even if Sinister Bar was only a fraction of the size.

:Wumpscut: thudded within the club with “Wreath Of Barbs”.

More whispers as We moved.

“That's Her!”

“That's Her?”

Inside, the main room was divided by a central wall with a long bar on one side and a sizable dancefloor with a few go-go boxes (Elric's favorite) on the other. Tucked at one end of the dancefloor was a small lounge. An upstairs balcony overlooked the other edge of the dancefloor. That second floor had another bar, some lounge areas, and a fetish/bondage voyeur display where people watched little shows of light spanking and ropework. Quaint for mortals. Nothing compared to Our sadomasochism.

“You mean M&M?” Elric would tease.

I once said “M&M” instead of “S&M” and the Bastard never let Me live it down. I just mix up words sometimes. He thought it was hilarious.

- so let's be done with this -

Christmas was being celebrated all over the world that night.

Christmas didn't touch a thing in the dark of that club.

Helena was upstairs, watching a brunette girl get whipped by a scrawny blonde guy to the soundtrack of Nicole Blackman narrating “Chrome” by Recoil.

“Mom,” Juliet said, “This is Hel DuBois. Hel, this is My Mother, Helena Tamburry.”

It wasn't until that moment when I realized Juliet and Helena had actually been mother and daughter as mortals. The term “Mom” wasn't just a reference to Their immortal relationship.

“Hel! So good to meet You!”

“You as well, Helena.”

Helena was clearly related to Juliet. They shared the same charming smile and although She was brunette, Her hair flowed as beautifully as Her Daughters. Much like Juliet, She was a bright soul with a dark core. Dressed in a rich ebony gown, She reminded Me of Camillia. She didn't exude the same power as Camillia, but She held a similar grace.

“How is that lovely vision of Elric?”

That dirty whore. I don't mean Helena. I mean Elric.

He neglected to mention how well He might know Them.

Bastard.

Juliet rolled Her eyes. “Mom. Stop.”

“What? I can ask about Him.”

“She's His Girlfriend. Don't embarrass Me.” Juliet exclaimed. “Sorry about that.”

- I want a girl who knows how to suffer -

“Wife, actually.” I corrected. “Elric is fine.” I replied simply. An answer to appease them both. And because the Tamburry Ladies were both very lovely, I didn't want them thinking of Me as anything less than His Bride.

“Be sure to tell Him that I said hello when You return home.”

“I will!” I lied.

“Allyson said You're out here to find Camillia?”

“Yes. Juliet says You've not seen Her.”

Helena shook Her head, “No. But I bet I know where You can find Her. She'll probably be at The Getty tomorrow. There's an opening called Radiant Darkness. That's more Her crowd than the club scene. I bet She's there if you go.”

Juliet amended Her earlier suggestion, “Oh, My gosh! You're totally right.” She glanced at Her Mother and continued. “I forgot about that. Yeah, nevermind what I said before. It's more likely She'd be at the art opening than Malediction.”

“It's Her birthday tonight, isn't it?” Helena asked.

“Yeah.” I said. I didn't elaborate further. I didn't want to explain the whole story of why I was there, so I tried to say as little as possible.

Next to Us, I overheard a skinny bitch telling her girlfriend about her husband dropping her off at a guys place to do a photoshoot. She would get some fetish clothing as payment and after the shoot, the guy wanted her to anally violate him with a dildo. She walked out of the shoot when he slapped her on the ass, because she didn't think that was appropriate.

- every raw boy wants relief -

If I made that up, you'd think it was ridiculous. Surely there couldn't be people who were that morally depraved and psychotic.

I couldn't help but laugh at this stupid bitch.

Her friend Gretchen agreed. Gretchen complained about modeling in a pornographic photoshoot with another girl and how the photographer requested licking the other chick's pussy. She called him unprofessional and a pervert.

Where do these insipid pieces of guttertrash get their ethics?

They are the demons who condemn saints and idolize whores.

A married woman who thinks anal rape with a stranger was fine, so long as he didn't slap her on the ass? A prostitute whores herself on camera by fucking another bitch for money, then complains if the photographer requests a little side action for free? What was the fuck was the world coming to? These depraved lost souls deserve to be Our victims. Zombies indeed.

Sex and horror make the blood flow the sweetest. Instilling fear and lust make the heart surge the strongest.

I'd have to keep My eye on them.

Helena handed Me a black velvet envelope. “Anytime You're ready, here is the address.”

With that, Helena and Juliet excused Themselves.

Inside the envelope was a key and a security code to get into Their guesthouse.

- done with the dark boys -

∞ ∞ ∞

The wanna-be anal dominatrix went downstairs.

Gretchen didn't join her, unfortunately. She stayed on a couch.

I followed her down to the ladies bathroom.

I locked the door behind us.

I flicked off the lights.

“Fuck!” I heard the wanna-be dominatrix shout from inside a stall the moment it went black.

Slowly, I walked to the door of her stall and banged a fist.

The sound burst through the room, echoing off the walls, a bang louder than the hardest punch a mortal could make.

The wanna-be dominatrix screamed. “Hey! I - I'm in here.”

Her voice quivered, uncertain of what could have made such a loud slam against the door.

“Not for long.” I corrected in a voice too quiet for her to hear over the blaring of the music.

“Hello?” She whined.

In one effortless move, I ripped the door off the hinges and picked her up by her face and threw her into the mirrors across the bathroom.

Glass shattered like breaking hearts and she collapsed in a heap on the floor. The smell of piss and suffering mixed upon tiles with beer stickiness.

- she's gone bit blue around the edges -

Groaning with pain, she didn't scream. The force of the impact left her partially knocked out. She was only conscious enough to whimper.

I love the way broken glass crunches like snow.

Grabbing her ankles, feeling her heartbeat under My thumb as I held her Achilles, I hurled her into the opposite wall. Her spine didn't break, but I think a rib or two did.

Lights flickered out of the darkness like a camera flash. Her body had slapped the lightswitch.

Her back made an awful smack as she impacted the linoleum. Her body squished with the sound of a hundred-thousand slugs dumped off a skyscraper.

The bathroom was still pitch dark.

She was still barely awake.

Her face was covered in blood from the gash across her forehead when her head shattered the mirror.

Picking her up by her neck, I whispered, “To love, honor and cherish. 'Til death do you part. Remember the vow, whore.”

Throwing her one last time, her tattered body landed in the pool of broken glass.

Without another word, I fixed My makeup and straightened My dress and unlocked the bathroom door.

- you want a girl who's pale and bled -

Switching the lights back on, patrons would find her passed out in her own blood, on mirror shards that shimmered like water on the floor.

I wasn't interested in feeding.

The wolf just wanted to hunt.

I just wanted to cause her pain for the sake of pain.

Now My blood flowed too.

Violence always made Me want to get laid.

∞ ∞ ∞

As the club filled with the bassline of Combichrist, I made My way out to the dancefloor to the sounds of “This Shit Will Fuck You Up”.

The scrawny blonde guy and the brunette who had been upstairs stopped their S&M play and came down to dance too.

The two of them were dancing with a girl in bright pink hair.

Upon the dancefloor I had spotted My quarry.

- I am a bitch, how do you want me -

I knew the three of them already. I can smell the blood of such mortals a mile from their veins. Let's just say they're the type of humans who think they are like Us.

Their names don't matter.

Neither do they.

- from behind or on my knees -

The blonde boy with eyes like Paris. The brunette girl bathed in the sin of a faerie dell. The girl with hair the pink of a sallow moth.

We talked.

We danced.

We flirted.

Their plan became to have a foursome at the boy's house.

Sure.

My plan for them was different.

- I am a slut, please hold me down -

Walking out of the club, we passed a dreadlocked gutterpunk who was excitedly telling his friend that he just needed to perform a little ritual to get his soul back on New Year's Eve. He was thrilled because he didn't like being without his soul.

- this shit will fuck you up -

None of Our Kind spoke to Me all night. They kept Their distance. As I walked out with My prey, One Girl bowed apologetically when She almost bumped into Me.

Later would I learn that to be a Queen of Silverfrost and Moonshadow bore such power and pride that All knew Our names, even far beyond Our Dominion. My mere presence was as Royalty of old, giving alms to the poor. Dignified I passed, for to be a Queen is to act as one.

Every last One of the vampir treated Me with awe.

∞ ∞ ∞

While the brunette rode in the boy's car, I drove the pink-haired girl. The pink-haired girl's boyfriend had broken up with her that night. They had been living together for 4 months. She had started growing less interested in him, talking less, less sex, so he dumped her. No way she was going home to him that night. She'd always wanted to fuck the blonde boy and the brunette. Now was her chance. Tomorrow, she would go home to her ex-boyfriend with hickeys and bruises.

Racing out of Hollywood in the Lamborghini, we careened across Mulholland as Poe blasted “Hey Pretty” from the stereo. The pink-haired girl, drunk with lust and alcohol, stripped off her top and let it fly away, tumbling into the dark and snagging the chaparral somewhere on the side of the road.

She howled and laughed and was dizzy in euphoric haze of absinthe.

Lips on My neck.

My hand guided to her breasts.

The car gunned faster.

The boy had a small house in the Valley with a bed surrounded in ghetto trashy bondage gear. A framework of 2x4 planks of wood, painted black. Chains and eyehooks that looked like they had been picked up at the local hardware store. His feeble little attempt at a “dungeon” made Me burst out laughing. Not because it was so pathetic, but because I knew it worked. I wasn't laughing at him, so much as I was laughing at all the insipid cokehead bitches who undoubtedly fell for his bullshit.

The three held such weak minds which were so effortless to cloud, they never heard any of My laughter.

The boy disrobed to reveal his scrawny clubkid pallor. He had no bodyfat whatsoever, but no muscle tone either. Sporting spiky bleached-platinum hair, he looked like the bastard lovechild of Twiggy and Iggy Pop. Clearly the boy fancied himself a player, but he wore such a feeble disguise that only the most naive of young girls would fall for his weak charms. Being wed to the true Prince of Darkness, this boy was a joke. A kitten who thinks himself a lion.

The brunette had a shapely form and straight jet-black hair down to her waist. The girl looked glorious nude, framed in that silken dark. She was neither skinny nor curvy and had no tattoos or piercings to sour that milky flesh. Slender shoulders poured into a small but beautiful chest with pastel pink nipples. Her flowery labia was clean shaven and already growing wet. Moreso than any of the clubkids, she appeared the victim. Her eyes spoke doe sorrows. She was one of the lost innocents. Like so many young girls in Hollywood, she would soon become another of the corrupted, simply by befriending the wrong crowds and trusting the wrong people. Already dead behind her eyes. Daddy-fucked-me eyes. Elric would have loved Her.

The pink-haired girl was adorned with long locks halfway down her back, voluptuous curves, and massive breasts with pierced nipples. Her skin was the pale of chalkdust and smooth as buttercream. She smelled like a little girls bedroom full of Halloween candy. Below her sizable chest was a captivating heart tattoo and across her back, a massive butterfly.

- I will take from them the voice of mirth, and the voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom, and the voice of the bride, the sound of the millstones, and the light of the candle -

Beauty. Tragedy. Be still, My love.

Heat.

Skin.

Sweat.

Leather and manacles. Squealing. Tongues licking every pore.

The brunette let out a ragged breath.

The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes back.

Grabbing her hair, he shoved her down. Chains rattled under the sound of Benny Benassi asking “Who's Your Daddy”?

Mouths encircling flesh.

Mouths deep in anothers lips.

She tasted so heavenly.

Hands firm on her shoulders as the brunette came. Shuddering orgasm. Squirting down thighs. Her cream dripping off knees. Dousing sheets.

Nape of a neck like ice cream. Dark purple welts. Whipping. Sucking. Hickeys and belt lashings.

Lick up a spine. Each vertebrae the texture of jellybean ridges. The flavor of tears. Warm as fevered infants.

Cream and cum.

Fingers interlaced. Muscles tense.

Limbs ripple and writhe.

Girls atop the boy as he vanishes inside them. Sucking thumbs. Spit and lipstick tattoos.

Hair pulled as reins. Deep and hard. Inner things smacking. Wet. The room thick with the musk of women and babyoiled chains.

Eyes shut tight.

Ankles in shackles. Wrists in handcuffs.

Beg for it. Demand it harder. Rougher. Cry for Me, little boy.

Your tears are ice.

Despite your rituals, your soul shant be returned on New Year's Eve.

Suckling across her stomach. Cotton sheets and lace and leather and flesh. Hands exploring every texture.

Taste of breath in My mouth.

Warm in My ear.

Shoved down onto the bed. And again. And again.

The bruises are light.

The screams begin.

The blood flows.

The horror starts.

He can't move.

She tastes like honeysuckle at dusk.

Bound at the wrists with black rope. Hanging from the canopy pillars.

Drop after drop.

Ounce after ounce.

Cup after cup.

Carnage blood drained and coated My mouth ravenous.

Dragging the three easy as teddybears through the livingroom. Shackled together. Blood lost to turn their gothic pallidity to even more sickly white. Unconscious they tumbled. Across the porch. Down the steps. I left their nude bodies cuffed together on the front rose trellis of his house. When the neighbors found them the next morning, the three humiliated lovers would barely remember the night.

The paramedics would wonder how they lost so much blood.

The lovers would wonder if a mohawked girl had even been there.

Perhaps I was just a dream.

∞ ∞ ∞

The Tamburry guesthouse was larger than most homes.

Exploring the rooms, I found old photographs of Helena. Like Myself, She was from England. Faded pictures of Her from the World Figure Skating Championships in 1902 adorned the mantle. Cute girl.

As I looked at pictures of Helena, I couldn't help but wonder if Elric ever fucked Her or Her Daughter. I would never ask. Knowing My devious Love, I could just imagine the conversation.

“Did You ever hook up with Helena or Juliet?”

“Not at the same time.”

“What!?”

“I'm just kidding!”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, it was always at the same time.”

“What!? So You did fuck Them!”

“I just like to keep You guessing.”

“You're a fucking prick.”

Bastard.

What the fuck was wrong with Me!?

Why was sex, sex, sex the only thing on My brain?

I felt like such a pervert.

Then it hit Me.

I missed Him. It had only been about 12 hours since He saw Me off at the airport, and I missed Him. I just couldn't get Elric out of My head. Everything was about Him in one way or another.

That's the reason I couldn't help but beat the shit out of that slutty whore in the club either. How dare she run around doing all that perverted shit with other guys when she's married?

Weeks later, I would tell Elric about her and He would look at Me like I was psychotic.

“Let Me get this straight. You have no problem with Me fucking other girls in front of You. I watch mortal boys cum inside You while You drink their blood. But You find it offensive when a mortal woman You never met engages in a sexual act with someone she's not married to?” Elric said.

“That's different.” I said.

“How is that different?”

I rolled My eyes. “Sex and fear make the blood sweeter. You taught Me that Yourself. Their hearts beat faster. More blood flows into Our veins. The rush is stronger. Fucking a mortal is no different than using a dildo. Mortals are just objects.”

“Then why care about the way they live?”

“Because,” I said. “Mortals don't know We exist. They think their own existence is the center of the universe. They may not mean anything to Me, but if they choose to think so highly of themselves, they should be forced to be held accountable to the morality of their culture.”

“And You are the one to hold them accountable?” Elric teased.

I nodded. “Damn right. Why shouldn't it be Me? Fuck them. I am a Goddess. My will alone is the sole and final authority upon which they shall be judged. These days, mortals believe marriage exists to make their own life happier. Older generations believed marriage existed to make the other person happier. Their culture has become so twisted, they think “selfishness” equates to “empowerment” - when in fact, selfishness is weakness. Generosity is empowerment. Strength comes from being subservient to the needs of those you love, not by being domineering to fulfill your own desires.”

Elric smiled, but didn't say anything.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just like the way You said that.”

“Said what?”

“All of it. Being a Goddess and the part about being subservient to the needs of those You love, not domineering for Your Own desires. I like that. But, it still seems to Me You are caring too much about the lives of creatures You claim are irrelevant.”

I shrugged. “I don't care about them. Not really. I was just frustrated. I missed You. Here was this woman talking about screwing other guys and her husband was okay with that. All I wanted was You. I took My frustration out on her.”

Elric looked at Me with even more scathing eyes.

“Baby,” He said, “We had only been apart for a few hours. You missed Me so much that Your frustration made You beat the living shit out of a complete stranger?”

I smiled and bit My finger and twirled My tiptoe on the ground like a kindergartner. “Yeaaaaah. I sowwy. Am I in twruble Daddy?”

“Damn, I love You. You fucking psycho Bitch.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Dreaming of Elric that night, I yearned for Him more than ever. That was the first night I awoke in a bed without Him by My side.

I hated it.

My sleep was restless.

What the fuck was I doing?

Who cares if Camillia was being bitchy?

Running off across the country just to be nice to Her was starting to seem like a dumb fucking idea.

I know, I've said that like a shitload of times already.

I just was annoyed with the whole situation.

You ever get in the middle of something and find you regret it, but now it's too late to not finish? Like you're fucking someone who isn't all that hot, and you kind of want to stop, but you figure, “Well, shit, I came this far, I might as well get an orgasm out of it.”

If you don't cum, it's even more fucking irritating.

At least stick around for the climax.

The opening for “Radiant Darkness: The Art of Nocturnal Light” did not begin until 8:00p.m. After sunset, that left Me with some hours to wander the city. Juliet and Helena had other plans that evening and suggested since the historic Santa Monica Pier was not far from the Getty, a preliminary trip to the pier was in order.

Fucking hated it.

No one told Me the damn pier was a little amusement park.

See, when I graduated from gradeschool, I had very few friends. My dad had won a contest on the radio for a group of 20 people to have free admission to a local amusement park. My mother expected he was going to invite family and coworkers. Knowing I had few friends, my dad let me use all the tickets to invite classmates. Well, I invited all my classmates, figuring maybe people would finally start to like me.

When I asked them, students were actually really nice to me and excited about going. I was shocked to have such kind and positive responses from everyone. I was starting to think, maybe people liked me after all.

My family had reserved a little picnic area and I decorated it with balloons and streamers and shit. My dad didn't win all that extra crap. He was very supportive and agreed to do all of that, because he knew I just wanted to make the day more festive and memorable for everyone.

Well, it was memorable all right.

No one showed up.

Not one single person.

You know how horrible that feels? Minute after minute. Ten. Twenty. Forty. When you finally start realizing you're all on your own.

I was heartbroken. My dad tried so hard to cheer me up. He was being very sweet to me that whole day. Trying to make me laugh. Working hard to make me forget about it. But that kind of heartbreak doesn't go away, even with a wonderful dad.

I've hated amusement parks ever since.

Every smiling face just fills Me with rage and animosity.

All you fuckers with friends.

Walking out to the very end of the pier was relief. There, past all the rides and the cotton candy smells, it was much more quiet and dark. Most of the amusement park sounds were muffled and the blackness of the sea filled the night. The vast size of the ocean isn't something which can be seen after sundown. You just feel it. Some swirl, from the pit of your stomach to your fingertips, senses the size of the inky Pacific.

The whole purpose of My journey was to find Camillia. Yet the more time I spent away from Elric, the more He became the only thing on My mind.

The melody of Bryan Adams “Everything I Do I Do It For You” came from inside a restaurant. I'd know those piano chords anywhere.

More than thinking of Elric, I kept on thinking of My mortal life and how far I had come. Hard to imagine, it had only been a few months. I had spent so much time in pain. So much abuse from which I needed to heal. So much fear. I had truly come to forget those things. All My time with Elric was My salvation. I was safe with Him. He could never hurt Me. He was My sanctuary. Being separated from Him, feeling alone, I began to feel vulnerable again.

For the first time, I started to see how much I relied upon Him.

I hadn't realized just how much He was truly a part of My being.

Without Him, I was lost and so many of those old heartaches returned.

Cynics would belittle such obsession, but the people who scoff have never been obsessively in love. They think it unwise to rely so heavily on another. I say the opposite is true. Being bound by unbridled passion to another soul, a soul loving You just as desperately in return, signifies an enriching and fulfilling life unlike any other; a vibrant existence like nothing else.

Their love is maladjusted. Not Mine.

“Sleep” by Azure Ray was playing faintly over the loudspeakers on the boardwalk. I loved that song. Something about the melody held the melancholy I imagine one feels when moving to a place as desolate as Los Angeles. This is what every lonely night feels like without Him.

Wandering into one of the little giftshops along the pier, I found a bit of stationary and a pen. If I couldn't be with Elric, at least I could put My swirling thoughts on paper. The process of writing to Him was difficult for Me. I wasn't experienced with writing loveletters. I didn't want to sound stupid.

Finally, I realized making Him happy was more important than My Own ego. If I sound corny, then I sound corny. Who cares?

All that matters is letting Him know how much I love Him.

Taking the time to put it on paper, instead of just saying it.

Sitting on a secluded bench near the edge of the pier, under a bluish streetlamp, I began to write on the cat-stenciled sheets.

∞ ∞ ∞

My Elric,

This is My first letter! To anyone! And My first loveletter to You. My Elric, for You are My first and only! My love, My teacher, My mate. Things that I will see and feel for the first time will be with You, for You, because of You. I am still here, still living and breathing only because You need Me to. I wanted You to kill Me, Elric. Then bring Me to life again. Let Us run in the night! My dark soulmate, and My angel in moonlight.

You need love!

A woman's sweet touch to Your face, a warm body close to Your skin. A woman's need and desire to feel a man's hardness and force.

Your lips on My neck, Your teeth in My flesh! My hands on Your heart!

I want to always be that woman.

I see You, feel You, smelling You... My vampire lover, My dark knight looking for My soul. Am I here to feed You, make You alive for Me. I'm afraid to have You, afraid to let You go... wonderful bright light that You can be, My dreams of You, of Us, My flesh and blood to make You whole. Elric, My cub, My baby, You do not know how strong You really are - a deep hole that I was in and You came to Me with love and light and lifted Me out!!

Will I be okay? Can I give You everything You need? Can I be a woman with You? A wife to You? A mother to Our Own children? To let You be a man to Me, do what You desire, need and hunger for Me the way men do. Our ways. Our hopes. Bite Me, Elric! Drink Me. Feed upon Me. Poison Me with Your sweet melting love - make Me feel again, take Me places I've never been or seen. Love Me, Elric. Rule My world! Be My king! Kiss Me Elric! Put Your breath in My body, let Me feel Your lips on My breast, Your hand on My heart! Fingers in My hair, My nails in Your back! Don't let Me go!

Tears and Time...

I have asked You for time... time to heal and cry. Time to see who and what I will become, also to see You, My Love. Who You really are, as You will understand in My gift.

My tears are for You as well as for Me and My love is only for You! You say You will do for Me forever, My darling, My dark lord, You have done so much for Me already. It's not just the gifts and flowers You shower Me with... it's Your heart and immortal soul from the dark shadows that You give Me... Your time for My tears, your soul placed in My hands to hold, to feel warmth and comfort again...

Your heart to heal and keep Me safe again and yes! My love, Your tears to cry with Me, for Me, time and tears...

Your time and tears have always been the most perfect and loving gift from You or anyone that I have ever had!!!

You have taken Me places I never knew... You have dreamed with Me, came to Me, felt Me in pain, and in love... I know who and what You are... Reality tries to tell Me that You are a man... other forces tell Me that You are an angel... born from the dark and raised in the daylight, a human immortal man. Flesh and blood with a darkside. Only I can see and love, My Elric.

Marry Me. Love Me. Tell Me things. Teach Me and watch Me grow before Your eyes, give Me Your children and let Me love You like We did in the past... make Me remember, My Lord... My Husband.

I love You, Elric DuBois.

Kiss Me... Hug Me...

These things I will ask only from You...

My Dark Prince...

Your Princess,

Hel DuBois

xxoo

∞ ∞ ∞

In one of the shops, I found the perfect gift to accompany the letter. A blood brown silk necklace, with a bloodstone pendant. Imagining He might not know the significance of the bloodstone, I wrote another letter to go with it.

∞ ∞ ∞

Bloodstone

Your birthright!

The bloodstone is Your birthstone...

Marking of Vampire Royalty, only the Dark Lords wear it, a symbol of Their neverending of time on earth and the source that keeps them forever alive. Witches tell the story of the Royal Blood tombed in the stone from the very first Vampire King, so that His clan shall have His power and knowledge to rule and ride, so that They can walk and live among mortals thru time, moving and controlling the night and spellbinding mortals by day.

I give to You what was always Yours. Bringing to You what was lost in time... Your time, early lives pass so that You can see it again.

My blood and My body are Yours! My Lord!

∞ ∞ ∞

Starting out afraid of sounding foolish, I found I couldn't stop writing. The more time I spent with that pen upon the page, the more it felt like He was right there with Me, and I was speaking all of this to Him.

Drawing another sheet from the binder, I composed a poem.

∞ ∞ ∞

I am pain

I will bite

I am your light

I will be with You in the dark

I am Your woman

I will be Your life

I am pain

I will heal

I will be Your Love

I will be Yours forever

You are My Lord

You will bend and break Me

You are My flame

You will forgive Me

You are My man

You will burn with Me

You are My mate

Time will be kind to Us

I am Yours as You are Mine

∞ ∞ ∞

Our union can not be ended. It can not be touched. Beyond Our free will, Our union surpasses fate and destiny. It can not be broken nor undone. Our connection is fused into the darkness of universe itself. Our union goes beyond any force of good or evil. We can not be blessed nor cursed by it. It simply is. Like the rising of the moon and the very light of the stars themselves. Immoveable. Untouchable. Magical. There forever.

After My nightmares, You are there, My Elric.

Thou art the whalesong, watching over Me in the ocean of peace and serenity.

Thou art the Dark Lord, keeping Me safe in the tower of storms and thunder.

Thou art the seer.

Thou art the God born unto My Coven.

Thou art the stallion, running free with Our tribe of wild horses, and I am Your mare.

Thou art My werewolf mate, running with Me in the darkest of forests, on the violent hunt.

With You always.

Light and dark.

Sunshine and moonlight.

Never forget what We truly are.

We are nightmare and unicorn.

We are the wind. We are the wide open spaces. We are the reckless passion of young love. We are fearless. We are breaking free. We are the dark incarnate.

Cast caution aside. Soar within Our endless sky. We be the bleakest of dread dragons, My love.

Fly with Me.

Fly with Me, Elric.

I am Yours.

I am Yours.

I am Yours.

Thrice avowed. Unbreakable as coven lore. Decreed and bound. To the corners called.

To Watchtowers I turned. A dagger upon My hip to draw the blood.

Thrown to wind.

Thrown to sand.

Thrown to water.

Thrown to flames as I shattered the lamp overhead in a fireball of darkcrow shade.

Guardians rose. The Mighty Ones summoned.

For even in this land of desolate spirit, the primal elementals held sway.

By a hate and fury was Our parting sealed.

Drawn to Me as I to Him.

We hear Our heartbeats in the Others dream.

Fury appeased.

I sat calm upon the pier again.

The lamp flickering from the final sparks.

Winds gentle.

Magic dissolved.

I was a simple teenage girl sitting on a bench again.

It wasn't until Elric loved Me that I realized how much rage was truly suppressed in My heart. How much loneliness. I had so many shitty boyfriends, I felt more angry than I could express.

Worst of all, they always left me. Usually in a very passive-aggressive way, such as calling me less and less, then never returning my messages.

This time apart from Elric really made it hit home - if He ever left Me, I would lose My mind, in a way I can't put into words.

I never imagined He'd leave by dying. I was always feeling jealous and thinking He'd run off with some older, smarter, more experienced woman.

Such a naive and narrow way to think.

Stupid of Me.

∞ ∞ ∞

The Getty Museum was fortified high atop a 900-foot peak in the Santa Monica Mountains. Constructed of glass and white marble, the buildings and surrounding gardens were as majestic as a wealthy European castle, but ultra sleek and modern in design. The whole sparkled like marcasite.

The inner courtyards and terraces were just as lovely as the exhibits and all around, gliding like figure skaters on that endless white stone, people milled about, sipping drinks and tasting hors d'oeuvres.

Camillia was there.

I felt Her close. She was in one of the pavilion buildings.

Meanwhile, back at home, Elric and a mansion full of guests celebrated Her birthday.

As I passed through the crowds, off in a side chamber, I spotted Camillia. Her back was facing Me, but I knew it was Her. Standing in front of Her was a thin and wiry figure of a man with deep chiseled features and a black bowler hat. Camillia appeared to be arguing with Him and making some sort of threats. Considering the time and place, She was clearly not looking to create too much of a scene.

As the man in the bowler hat trotted off, smirking at Her, Camillia felt My presence and turned to face Me.

She appeared shocked and nervously glanced a quick look back over Her shoulder, clearly embarrassed to think I may have overheard Her conversation. “Hel? Whatever are You doing here?”

I bowed politely, “I have come to apologize, My Queen. For Myself and for Elric.”

“Where is He?” Camillia said, peeking over My shoulder into the crowd.

I corrected Her assumption. “Oh, He's not here, Mi'Lady. I came alone. He's back home, at the Estate.”

Camillia pursed Her lips disapprovingly. “Hrm.” She muttered.

I defended Him. “Oh, He wanted to come Himself. But it was My idea to come alone. I felt the most responsible for You being upset.”

In Her motherly fashion, Camillia embraced Me, “You?”

“Yes. This was all My fault. You feeling so unappreciated.”

“Oh, Hel. You needn't go to all the trouble. I would have returned in another day or two. My anger was simply a passing thing.”

“Yes, and Elric and I understand that. But You still deserve Our apologies. We have been quite selfish and inconsiderate. You deserve better and We're both very sorry.”

Camillia kissed My forehead, “All is forgiven, My Child. But You truly didn't need to come all the way out here. When did You arrive? Where are You staying?”

“Last night. With the clan Tamburry.”

“Good Ladies. I have found a gentleman with a castle in the Hills. You will stay with Me tonight.”

I was appreciative of the offer, because it meant She genuinely wasn't upset anymore. At least, that's what I wanted to believe.

“Oh, I'm in the Hills.”

Camillia laughed graciously. “Not in Beverly Hills, darling. The Hollywood Hills.”

“Oh.”

There was a pretentiousness to Her comment which I didn't quite understand. I would learn later that the Hollywood Hills were a bit more “old money” than Beverly Hills and therefore more respectable among those who possessed wealth. Where I come from, a mansion is impressive no matter what. Being breed unto French aristocracy, Camillia considered lineage and history above financial standing. For Her standards, “where You come from” holds more credence than “where You are”.

“Oh! And happy birthday!” I added. “Sorry I missed it last night. I was looking for You!”

Camillia grinned with a coy smile, “Thank You, sweetheart. That's quite alright. I'll have more.” She winked, devilishly.

I didn't apologize for My lack of a present. There's nothing to give a woman like Her.

“Come,” Camillia said. “Let Me introduce You to some people.”

∞ ∞ ∞

As Camillia led Me through the crowd and I became acquainted with various well-to-do ladies and gentlemen. I noticed that She never did introduce Me to the man in the bowler hat. I looked for Him a few times, but never saw Him again. Based upon Her obvious discomfort when I had first approached Her, I never mentioned Him to Camillia. Seemed wiser for Her to think I hadn't noticed Him.

∞ ∞ ∞

Camillia had left Me talking with a woman named Edythe who was some wealthy philanthropist. As we spoke, I heard someone an arms-distance away call My name.

“Your Highness? Hel? Hel DuBois?” The Man said.

He was dressed in a fine dark suit with blonde hair cut short and crisp. The Man appeared to be a much older Gentleman, perhaps in His middle sixties.

“Yes?” I inquired.

He bowed slightly and raised out a hand. I offered Him Mine and He kissed the top.

“Ah, Shamus Devonson.” I said, recognizing Him. “Lovely to see You again.”

“And You.” He acknowledged Edythe. “Mrs. Broad.”

“Mr. Devonson.” She nodded.

Looking around carefully, yet subtly, Shamus said, “Will you kindly pardon Hel and Myself for a moment?”

She bowed and walked away to find her husband.

“What can I do for You?” I asked.

Shamus turned away, “Walk with Me.”

We headed through the crowds to one of the many exterior terraces. A majestic balcony overlooking the 405 and Century City.

“Are You enjoying Your trip?” He asked.

“It's okay, I guess.”

“You've never been here before?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, Shamus. I haven't. Why do You ask?” Now I was getting irritated with Him. I hate being asked questions people already know the answer to.

Shamus looked around and moved over a little closer to a more secluded corner. “Have You noticed anything about the way You're treated here?”

“Meaning what? People seem nice, I guess.” After the reactions of Kindred in the club last night, I understood His question, but I wasn't in the mood to make it easy for Him.

“Too nice?” Shamus wondered.

The way Our Kind reacted to Me at the club the previous night was odd. Even those Camillia introduced Me to were a bit overly polite.

Then again, isn't that what My bloodline deserves?

“They seem respectful.” I said.

“Like Father, like Daughter?” Shamus muttered, bemused.

Faster than a cobra, I turned to shadow, wrapped around His ankles and hung Him over the precipice of the railing.

Fucking asshole.

How dare He use that mocking tone about Elric.

“The fuck did You say?”

He stammered quickly, “I'm sorry! I - I meant no disrespect!”

Just as quickly, I put Him back on His feet.

“Elric has warned Me about You.” I snapped at Him. “How pompous You can be. Tell Me what the hell You want. Why bring Me out here and - ”

He raised His palms. “- I know. I know. Forgive Me, Mi'Lady. I apologize if I've offended You. Elric does not like Me, that is true.” His voice became a whisper, “Nevertheless, I'm only trying to help both of You from the danger You're in.”

That got My attention.

I stared at Him for a moment. He seemed quite sincere.

“Come,” I said, “Walk with Me to the terrace? Perhaps We might keep this conversation moving.”

He smiled, “Wise suggestion, Mi'Lady.”

I didn't always behave like I was sixteen.

As We moved downstairs and walked near the courtyard pools, Shamus began to say, “Elric is very strong, Hel. Stronger than either of You even realize.”

“Oh?”

He didn't miss a beat, “Unfortunately, and I mean no disrespect by this, He's also afraid of what He is.”

“Elric fears nothing.” I said.

But I knew Shamus was right. Elric had spoken of His fears of the truth behind why He was Turned. I just didn't want Shamus to know.

Shamus continued, as if I had said nothing. “The things I need to tell You, I could have told Him. But the truth is, He fears His Own darkness. He hates what He has become. So He questions nothing. You're different. You embrace the power of the Unseelie Court more than He.”

“Do I?”

I was getting a little pissed at Him again, for calling Elric fearful.

Then again, He had a point. Elric didn't question things as I did. Or, more accurately, He questioned things, but kept a lot to Himself.

After Our confrontation in Sasha's livingroom, I now know much of His attitude had been because of Sasha.

Another insight I wasn't about to share with Shamus.

Shamus asked, “Have You never wondered about why You are both so young?”

“So young?” What kind of a question was that?

“Yes, Hel. Why do You think vampires never breed? Why is it so rare that We create Another?”

I hadn't really thought about it too much. “Because the world can't be full of Our kind. Because We need humans to feed upon. We must control Our population so - ”

“- No. You've seen too many movies, I'm afraid. How many vampires do You think have been created since Elric?”

“I don't know. Where? You mean everywhere? All over the world?”

“Yes. All around the world. How many?”

“Well, Elric was turned 12 years ago. That's a long time. I'm sure hundreds? Thousands?”

Shamus paused on the staircase for emphasis. “Three.”

“Excuse Me? Three thousand?”

“No, Hel. Not three thousand. Three. Nix and Auri and You.”

“Three? Nix and Auri? Who are - Oh! Oh, yeah, Elric mentioned Them to Me briefly but, wait. Seriously? Three?”

We had reached the lower gardens.

“Three, Hel. No others. Before that, it had been near 20 years since an Other of Our Kind was born. This is why every Immortal knows You, My Dear. The myth of vampires would have You believe that the oldest of Our kind were the most powerful. This is not true. The truth is that each new generation grows stronger than the last. Although They have existed for centuries, the DuBois family is among the youngest of all bloodlines. Thus, with the death of Nix and Auri, You and Your love Elric are the newest Kindred in the world. That's why all Our Kind know of You. That's why They fear You. That's why They respect You. Because You and Your darling Husband - ”

I finally understood what He was getting at.

“- Are the most powerful Kindred in the world?” I asked, scoffing.

“Precisely.”

“Oh, please.” I chuckled. “We can't be.”

Shamus looked at Me with an intense anger. He whispered through gritted fangs. “This is not a matter to take lightly.”

I thought He was full of shit, but I realized that I was fucking up by admitting it. I needed to play along. Pretend I was taking Him seriously.

Elric warned Me to be careful. I was being flippant.

Damnit. Smarten up, Hel!

This sounded insane to Me. Wouldn't We know how powerful We were, if We were truly that strong? If We were indeed so mighty, how could Our strength be unknown to Us?

This had to be some sort of trick.

Shamus was fucking with Me.

Had to be.

For some reason, Shamus was trying to make Me think that Elric and I were more powerful than We were.

But why?

What was His motive?

Why would Shamus be trying to trick Us into thinking that?

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to make light of it.”

Shamus continued, still whispering as We walked the pathway up the creek. “This is important and I tell You this not without some risk to Myself. The Child kills the Master, Hel. That is why We do not breed more of Our kind. That is why We keep Our numbers in check. The more of Us We create, the better the chances that We will be destroyed by Our Own Children.”

I didn't want Him to know I didn't trust Him, but at the same time, only a fool wouldn't ask. So, I said, “Why are You telling Me this? If Elric and I pose such a potential threat, why let Me know?”

“I already told You why.” Shamus hushed, “The Child kills the Master. There is a certain natural order which has been put off balance by some. Let's just say, there are those among Our Kind Who are counting on You and Elric to put things right.”

“Oh, fuck You.”

“Pardon Me?”

“You heard Me. I said fuck You. Don't give Me some bullshit cryptic answer. Some fucking riddle like a bad TV show? Fuck that. Tell Me in plain English what the fuck You're talking abo - ”

“ - I am Hel. I assure You I'm not trying to be mysterious or obtuse. There are many secrets in the DuBois family clan. Everyone knows the secrets are there, but no one knows what those secrets are. As We Kindred wish to keep Our Own existence a secret, We don't like it when powerful Royal bloodlines start toying with the world and playing games. Selfish vendettas do not bode well for Our survival as a species. Whatever is going on, We are counting on You and Your Prince Elric to keep things under control. There is nothing more I can explain. That's truly as clear and forthcoming as I can be. We know something dangerous is in motion. We just have no idea what it happens to be.”

That shut Me up.

I was more tense than ever.

Hearing Elric be paranoid was one thing. It's not that I didn't trust Elric or believe Him. Of course I did. But I also know how much He loves Me and sometimes His need to protect Me could make Him overly cautious.

Hearing the same kind of warnings from Shamus made Me far more nervous. Because now, it wasn't just Elric being protective. Now it was reaching beyond the scope of Our intimacy, into the world. This wasn't the two of Us sitting alone at a grave in the cemetery. This was reaching Me thousands of miles from home. That made it far more real.

The only comfort I could take was the assurance that We were so powerful.

Maybe.

I still had My doubts and worried that Shamus was promising We were so strong as a way to manipulate Us.

But why?

To what purpose?

And what the fuck does “obtuse” mean?

As I overlooked the maze of azaleas in the central garden, I asked, “Why now?”

Not understanding, Shamus was silent.

I elaborated, “Why wait until now to tell Me all of this? If all You say is true and so important, why didn't You ever bring it up sooner?”

Motioning to Our surroundings, Shamus said, “The shadows of this city have no ears. There are far fewer things listening in the dark. May seem that I've waited a long time to reveal these things. Truthfully, this was My first chance. After hearing from Others that You were in Hollywood last night, I had to find You right away. I didn't wait, Hel. I told You as quickly as I could. I dare not reveal this near Your estate. The woods of Your city have far too many things listening.”

I nodded.

“Thank You, Shamus.” I said.

He bowed His head. “Mi'Lady. By Your leave.”

“That will be all.” I commanded.

Still felt a bit weird to be “bossy” towards adults. Not only did Shamus look like He could be My grandfather, He was centuries older than any grandfather on earth.

Nevertheless, Camillia and Elric and even Allyson tried to teach Me to be a little more enigmatic in My manners. I think the mere aura of The Getty Museum helped. Surrounded in that majestic white stone like a Goddess of Olympus made Me inadvertently carry Myself with a bit more decorum.

“Decorum?” Elric would later question. “Like hanging Shamus off a 5 story balcony shows decorum?”

Sarcastic asshole.

∞ ∞ ∞

At the Tamburry mansion, Camillia waited in Her chauffeured Duesenberg Model J while I started to gather My things.

“Stay” by Power Of Dreams was left playing in the convertible as I ran in the guesthouse.

Little did I know, that would be My last night in the City of Angels.

Entering Their guesthome, I moved with an overwhelming sense of dread. The whole night began to unfold in a bizarre fashion. Somehow, I felt as if I were underwater or walking through some nightmare where all sound is muffled into a false deafness. The feeling was difficult to describe. Looking back, it was as though I was watching Myself from very far away. Like I was stranger in My Own skin. Through My connection to Elric, I seemed to know something was horribly wrong, before it registered in My consciousness. As if I heard Him scream and wail and make a sound like I had never heard anyone make before. Bolting upright as I bent over My suitcase, I could feel it - whether by Our bond as Immortals or simply due to the depth of Our love, I can not say. All I knew was, something terrible had happened.

Hearing Power Of Dreams playing faintly in the background didn't fit with the mood at all. Or maybe it did.

- now she's dead, now she's gone, does it feel so real? -

The phone rang seconds later.

I knew it was Him.

“Elric?”

“Hi.” Elric's voice quivered with pain.

“What is it, My Love?”

There was a short pause before He spoke.

“Sasha's dead. She killed herself.”

Chapter Ten

The words detonated in My chest and made everything go silent.

I would have smiled, if not for the anguish I heard in His words. That was the moment when I grew to hate Sasha more than ever. She would always be entombed in His heart now. Entombed within a chamber unto which everyone, including Me, will always be forbidden to enter. That fucking whore. I wanted to live in every inch of His soul. Elric was mine.

Then I remembered the death of My Own father. My mortal dad. Strange how easily I had forgotten that. The memory of his existence was like a dream from years ago - hardly discernible. Whispy.

I remembered how it felt to get that phonecall. Those empty and hollow phonecalls that a loved one has died. The room goes cold. The silence on the line is maddening. And all time freezes like the chill bones of winter oaks.

My mortal father long held a private and sacred place in My heart too, though I can barely recall the path to those chambers, and the key has been long rusted and forgotten and buried with him. Suddenly I remembered where I had heard that scream I dreamt of Elric - that was how I wailed when I learned of My father's death. Strange that I'd lose the memory of something that was once such an all-consuming anguish.

Barely remembering My dad, that brought Me comfort. Perhaps, as His love for Me grows deeper, Elric will barely remember Sasha in the years to come.

No matter for now. For now My greatest love, My only love, was in pain - and pain was a thing I didn't know He could experience. It cut deep to hear suffering in His voice, even for those short seconds. Comforting Him and being there for Him was all I cared about.

In that moment, My jealousy and obsession were eased by one deliciously selfish and wicked thought - He will never be able to leave Me for Her now.

She can never be made Immortal. She is gone from His life forever. Only I shall possess His heart and soul for all eternity. Indeed in 100 years, He will still belong to Me and Sasha will be all but forgotten.

At the time, I didn't know fate would not give Me another century with Elric though. Soon I would lose Him forever.

Sasha may have a place in Elric's heart, and I may want to destroy that place, but the truth is, I occupy far deeper dungeons of His spirit than Sasha will ever be able to touch. In the decades to come, I imagined she wouldn't be remembered. Knowing that, her death suddenly became a blessing. Although I could never say as much to Elric, this news gave Me a glorious reason to celebrate.

He knew. Elric was no fool. But He also knew I'd dare not speak of these things.

“I'll be right home.” That was all I could say.

I squealed with excitement when I hung up the phone.

That was the best fucking phonecall I've ever gotten.

Chapter Eleven

Sasha was laid to rest in Holy Cross Cemetery, a bland and ugly graveyard off Brookpark Road that looks more like a golf course than a burial ground.

The graves were all flush with the lawn and no more ornate than bathroom tiles. No statuary. No sepulchers or mausoleums. Nothing. Just flat stones. The place held all the charm of a football field scattered with doormats.

Elric and I stood many rows from Sasha's tombstone when He stopped and could walk no further. We paused under an old oak.

The expanse of the terrain stretched out level as a baseball diamond. Traffic noise from the surrounding roads penetrated all the way into the holyground. Not remotely as serene and peaceful as such places are intended to be.

“The sharp knife of a short life.” Elric sang softly.

“What?” I asked.

“It's from an old song. If I Die Young by The Band Perry.”

“Oh.” I said. “Never heard of it.”

Looking around, he said, “She deserves better than this place.”

My voice spoke words that I didn't really mean. “We could bring her back to the Estate.”

“No,” Elric dismissed the idea immediately, as if it had already crossed His mind Himself. “She should remain in holyground for her own family.”

Upon saying those words, it was as if Elric had a revelation He hadn't considered before, “Her family is not with Me. It never was.”

To Me, interning her in such an unmagical burial ground made it all the more evident that Elric and Sasha were never meant to be. For even in death, she rests in a place where He could never belong.

I smiled at Elric in My joy. I wasn't sure if He would interpret My grin as compassion or happiness. Honestly, I didn't care how He took it. I was fine with Him knowing what I felt, either way. He was Mine. I was done sharing Him. Not with Sasha. Not even with Camillia. Not with anyone. Not anymore.

“Maybe I never loved Sasha. I only loved the sense of comfort that her presence could give to Me. I didn't know she was going to die.” Elric said sadly. “I didn't imagine it. I never expected it. And I always thought, because I loved her so much, I would somehow know ahead of time if that sort of thing would happen. And since I didn't know, I started to question My love. Made My love feel inadequate. Like it just wasn't enough. As though our bond were just a self-induced delusion.”

The part of Me jealous of His feelings for her wanted to agree with Him. The part that loved Him wanted to tell Him that wasn't true.

In the end, I said nothing.

Like I said, I was done sharing.

One thought haunted Me though.

One thought gnawed at My heart and slowly poisoned Me.

In fact, it had been growing stronger and stronger ever since I had hung up the phone.

Truth is, all of this was My responsibility. If I had never been so insecure in wanting to Turn Sasha, none of this would have happened. She killed herself because of the confrontation we had at her house. Obviously. Seeing Elric that night. Not knowing what was real anymore. What mortal wouldn't be driven mad by what she experienced? If I hadn't shown up there, Sasha would still be alive. Although it was unintentional, clearly her death was entirely My fault.

Elric never said a word of that to Me.

Elric never said He blamed Me.

Even though I know He did.

Perhaps, knowing that He was the One Who made Me immortal, He felt His Own sense of guilt and responsibility for Sasha. She would still be alive if it wasn't for Me. But I never would have met her in the first place if it wasn't for Elric. He knew this. Therefore, My actions were never admonished.

I wished We weren't there.

I wished He was already over her.

I wished she didn't matter anymore.

I didn't want to know if He blamed Me.

But I had to know.

Elric finally saw that torture on My face.

“Baby?”

“Nothing.” I said, choking back My tears.

He just looked at Me.

You know. That look. The one that a beautiful man gives to a woman. The one that makes you weak. The one that sees right into your soul. Those dark eyes that feel bottomless. And you fall into them. And the shadows are warm and safe like a childhood blanket in winter. Only the dark eyed men have that power.

He tore Me open with that look.

My pride wanted to keep silent.

My love made Me break down.

I couldn't take it anymore.

“Do?... Do You hate Me?” My voice cracked. “You know she killed herself... because of Me. Because of the night I was going to Turn her. This was all My fault. You know that! If I hadn't done that, if - if I hadn't done what I did, she would still -”

“ - Shhh.” Elric hushed. “Stop. Stop it, My Love.”

I began sobbing like a little girl.

Fuck.

That was the last thing I wanted to do.

“I need You, Elric. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I love You like this! I'm sorry I'm so jealous and possessive and hateful and controlling. I've - I've - ” I could barely choke out the words. It hurt too much to hear them. “ - I've just been abandoned so much. Now that I have You, I never want to let You go! I'm such a fucking mess - ”

“ - Shhh. Stop. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Shhh. Calm down, My Love. Relax Yourself.”

Elric hugged Me and I fell into Him. His arms were strong and His chest so broad and comforting. And I hated Myself for being so weak. I hated Myself for being so upset over that stupid girl.

But I wasn't upset over her.

I was scared that Elric was upset with Me.

I feared He would hate Me.

His voice was deep and gentle, like the distant rumble of a summertime storm. He said, “Baby, I love You more than ever.”

That was certainly not what I expected to hear.

I pulled back. “You're just saying that.”

“No. No, I'm not.”

“Yes, You are! You don't want Me to be upset, so You're just being sweet.”

“Is it working?” He joked.

That made Me laugh. “No.” I pouted.

He chuckled and wiped My tears. “No. I'm not just saying it to be sweet. I mean it. Listen to Me. This hasn't made Me hate You, My Darling. Not at all. I mean it. I love You more than ever.” He smiled, gently.

I didn't understand.

“You drove her mad.” He said.

“And for that, You'll never forgive Me.”

Elric explained, “No, Hel. For that, I shall be forever grateful. Baby, Sasha died twelve years ago. Don't You understand? She wasn't living anymore. She was a shell of what she once was. She died a long time ago. Her body may have held breath, but her spirit had long since been dead and buried. No, I'm not mad. Her suicide was a blessing. You did what I couldn't do. You ended her pain. You helped to set her free! At last, she has no power over Me.”

I never saw it that way. I suddenly realized in doing something totally selfless, I helped Sasha ease her torment and I helped Elric let her go.

When my dad killed himself, I thought I had failed him.

Sasha's life was nothing but suffering. Maybe her death was not a failure, but a salvation.

Death isn't romantic. I knew that. Looking around Us, I was reminded these sick and deranged Messianic cults brainwash people into thinking death leads to redemption and paradise. These false promises are nothing but a disgusting perversion of the beauty of life.

When I had given up on life, Elric wouldn't let Me.

When Sasha had given up on life, Elric stood by and watched.

How could I ever think He loved her more?

He saved Me from the shadows. Not her.

“Did it ever occur to You that maybe she died, because You would never get over her until she did?” I asked.

He considered it and said, “You may be right. All the more reason to love You.”

I smiled.

“I'm sorry I've held back so much.” Elric said.

“Elric, You have loved Me with more passion than I have ever known.”

“No. Not with enough. Not with all You deserve. This has always been My fate, Hel. I see this now. With Sasha, I thought I was a creature of light. Good. Noble. True. When I was Turned, I was tormented by becoming a minion of darkness. I became cruel and mean, because throwing away everything I believed was the only way I could cope with what happened. Obliterate My old life. Never be part of the light again. But the truth lies in between. I am a being of shadow. Just as You. For years, I believed Sasha was My destiny. Now I see I was wrong. She was what I believed, when I was afraid to accept what I am. My true self? My true self loves only You.”

“The werewolf and the vampire are forbidden.”

“Don't be silly. We are two monsters. Cut from the same cloth.”

“Soulmates.” I grinned.

“Soulmates. Lifemates. Deathmates. Bound eternal.”

“I know. I knew from the moment You came to Me, My Sweet Spirit.”

“As did I, My love. As I said before, honestly, I think that is why I started visiting Sasha less.”

“To say goodbye?” I asked.

“Aye. To say - ”

“- We are the same, You know."

“Pardon Me?”

"We share a bit of the same soul. Sasha and I.” It bothered Me to admit, but I knew it was true.

Elric disagreed immediately. “No. I love only You. Through life or death in any lifetime, You would be bound unto Me. You would return to Me, as I to You. Your path is not tied to hers and You know that. She is only part of who I thought I was. You are the Queen of Who I truly am.”

Elric spoke sternly. “Listen, Hel. We may have become Creatures of darkness, but the truth is, You surpass the best light of her. You are her spirit evolved. She was Your ghost. You have always been the One for Me. Always You. I didn't always know that. But I know it now. Now that she's gone, I've realized I don't need her ghost anymore. I only need You. I've only ever needed You.”

“Baby.” I kissed Him. Soft. Tender. This evil bastard could be so sweet when He needed to be.

“I know what I mean to You.” Elric whispered, “I was shocked that You were going to give Me up for Sasha. That was the most generous thing You could ever do. ” He smiled.

“Oh, it was bullshit and You know it.” I said, wiping away My tears.

“It wasn't bullshit.”

“Yes, it was. It was manipulative bullshit. I never wanted to give You up. I never wanted to Turn Sasha. I wanted to make it look like that, just to impress You. I never wanted it to really happen.”

“Well, of course not.” He said, as if it were the most obvious thing ever.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Obviously You never really wanted it. That's not the point. The point is that You tried it.” His smile was tender and compassionate. “You were going to do it. Not like You were faking it.”

“Yes, I was going to go through with it! But I never wanted to!”

“I know.”

I was confused. Why was He so tolerant? Why wasn't He more angry about it? “I was totally selfish! I lied to Myself. I convinced Myself that I was being generous. The truth is, I was being so manipulative that I didn't even see My Own motives!”

Elric was still calm and accepting.

He said, “Which is exactly why I love You so much. There is no greater love than accepting the hate and malice and cruelty of another. And I love all Your darkest cruelty. Anyone can love someone who is kind and generous and caring. Noble, respectful, honorable. There's nothing special about loving a person like that. That's easy to love.”

He pointed at My chest, “When You see into the darkest heart of a someone, when You accept the chasm of Their horrible soul, and still continue to love Them anyway, that... that is the mark of true devotion.”

Grinning, he said, “I know how selfish You are. I know You are happy that Sasha died. And I love You anyway.”

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. “How sick is that? You still love Me even if I'm happy that Your first love committed suicide? You are one sick little puppy. What am I going to do with You?”

Elric laughed too. “Fuck, Hel,” He sighed heavily and wrapped His arm around My shoulders, “If Our roles were reversed, do You really think I'd feel any different? If You had some stupid fucking mortal boy that You were all hung up on, I'd be thrilled if the bastard died. I'd be so glad the little prick offed himself. I'd be dancing in the street. Good riddance!”

He shook His head as if to say, “Don't You get it?” He continued, saying, “I'm just the same as You! I'm just as immature and jealous and shitty and awful and selfish and that kind of love is the only love which is real. Selfishness isn't a loving act, but to accept the most selfish, mean and dark catacombs of Your spirit, then and only then can One profess true love and fealty.”

“I don't know what that means.”

“What?”

“Feel tea?”

“Fealty.” Elric corrected. “It means like devotion or commitment. Swearing fealty means an oath of - ”

“ - Well, why didn't You just say that? Have to show off with big words all the time.”

“Fealty is not a big word.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, it's not.”

“Well, I never heard of it before.”

“Hey, it's not My fault You have the vocabulary of a third grader.”

I gasped and punched Him. “Fucker! A third grader? I do not have the vocabulary of a third grader! Asshole!”

I wasn't about to tell Him I didn't know what the fuck “dark cat-of-combs” were either. Dick.

“It's okay. You're still hot.” He said. “That's the way I like My Bitches. Hot and dumb.”

“Oh, You Son of a Bitch! I'm so mad at You right now!”

“No, You're not.” He giggled.

“No, I'm not. Prick.”

He kissed My forehead.

I almost asked, if He loved My selfishness so much, did that mean I can go off and fuck a bunch of other guys, and He'll still love Me?

I didn't though.

I couldn't cross that line.

My heart was His.

I never even wanted to tease Him about that sort of shit. He never did that to Me either. He never made comments about leaving Me or betraying Me or abandoning Me. Never. Not even as a joke. He never crossed that line.

He would never kid around about cheating on Me.

I owe Him the same respect.

Any devotion I expect Him to show Me is the same devotion I must show Him. Plus, if I cheated, He'd tear My cunt out with a pair of pliers.

“You just call Me a prick?” He asked.

“I don't know what You're talking about.” I smiled innocently.

“Sure. Bitch.”

“What did You call Me?”

“You heard Me. Whore.”

“Cocksucker.”

“Cuntrag.”

“Dipshit.”

“This is a very odd conversation to have in a graveyard.” He said.

“Oh, fine!” I tossed up My hands, “Run out of insults?”

“No. Whore.”

“You already used that word, fucknut.”

“That's because You're such a big whore I had to use it twice.”

I gasped again. “Ohhh! You bastard!”

“Yeah. So?”

“Oh, see? Now You are giving up. Lightweight. I was having fun insulting You and You just had to go and ruin it.”

“Whatever.”

“Oh, You're throwing out the whatever now?”

“Yeah. So? Twatwaffle.”

“You just can't think of anymore insults. Yeah? You ran out. So, I won.”

Elric scrunched His face. “I just called You a twatwaffle. I didn't run out!”

“Uh, huh.”

He mocked Me. “Uhh, huhhh.”

There was one desire that was greater than My jealousy. There was one driving thought which meant more to Me and that was to be kind to Elric. He didn't come to that graveyard out of pity or remorse or even out of love. He was there because of pain. Pain He had never recovered from. Pain He had always needed to heal from. That is why I went with Him. I didn't give a shit about Sasha or Her death or Her tomb. All that mattered to Me was to show Him tenderness and ease and gentle words and laughter. For it was in the endless laughter We always shared that I knew the strongest healing would thrive to kindle His spirits.

I motioned towards the burial site. “Aren't We going to - ?” I stopped Myself, already knowing the answer. No. We wouldn't approach Sasha's grave any closer. Keeping Our distance was the way it was meant to be.

Following My gaze, Elric understood what I had been about to ask.

He looked at her tomb in the distance.

He looked back at Me.

“No, My Love.” He stared at her resting place for some time. “We're done here. There's no reason to ever return.”

By a swipe of His wrist did asphodel bloom.

Until He met Me, Sasha was the only person He loved more than life.

At last, she was finally gone.

I smiled at Him.

“You're not even going to read her tombstone?”

“Never.” He replied without a moment of hesitation.

That was the moment when I finally understood. I finally saw all He had been trying to tell Me. His love. His lust. His passion. His devotion. All of it belonged to Me. Never again would I be jealous of Sasha. From that moment forth, I know that every shard of Elric's soul was consumed only by Me. No other woman would ever matter to Him. No other memory would ever be relived. No stories of her remembered. From that night forth, He would only ever dream of My touch. At last, there were no ghosts but Mine to haunt Him. Finally, I possessed Him utterly. Forever.

Neither one of Us would ever set foot in Holy Cross cemetery again.

On the way there, We had talked in the car. Nothing I said really meant anything. Just empty words to fill the silence. Elric didn't say much in response. We spoke briefly of Camillia's party at the mansion and how neither Camillia or I were there to see it.

I was glad Our conversation had finally returned to normal.

I know a single awkward car ride is no big deal.

But I love that everything between Us is always so effortless.

Laughing.

Playing.

Surrounded by the dead.

I knew everything would be fine.

Later, He would tell Me how it felt the night she died. How He had no idea that she was gone, but something didn't feel right in the world. Hanging out with Allyson, His own voice sounded alien to Him - like He was hearing Himself speak in a movie. That somehow, reality had become skewed into a place it didn't quite fit and the gears of the world no longer meshed as they were meant to flow. As if the moon itself disappeared that night. Vanished without a trace.

At the moment of My return, He said things finally felt right once more.

Never would I leave His side again.

∞ ∞ ∞

The night Sasha killed herself, Elric dreamt of her. For only the second time in all the years since He had been Turned, He dreamt of something other than His Own death.

“I didn't want to tell You,” He explained. “I know how jealous You get.”

“She's dead, Elric. How could I be jealous of Her now?”

Chuckling, Elric cocked His head at Me, “Don't lie to Me. I know You too well, Hel. Not even the dead are safe from Your desire to be the only one to possess Me.”

True. He was right. But I still wanted the story. “Tell Me. I want to know the dream.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Elric dreams He and Sasha are standing on the end of the longest pier at Huntington Beach, far into the waters of Lake Erie. Huge waves are crashing against the mossy quarry stone and splashing a diamond spray into glistening summer sunlight. As droplets hit the rock, they tinkle with piano notes resembling “I Am Stretched On Your Grave” by Sinead O'Connor. The air smells of freshwater and clouds.

“Things didn't turn out quite the way we expected, did they?”

“Now there is an understatement if ever I heard one.” Elric replies.

“I'm so sorry for what happened.”

“I know, Sasha. I know. So am I. For the longest time, I really thought we were going to be together.”

“Me too.”

“Now this is all we'll have. Dreams. Memories. Moments that never were.”

Sasha frowns because she knows they won't have that either.

She lets Him keep the lie.

“My love? Will you ever forgive me?” Sasha asks.

“Baby. How could I resent you?”

“Because I gave up! I quit!”

“No. You didn't.”

“Yes, I did! I didn't mean to! I just - ”

“Sasha, I'm the one who died. All you did was follow suit. I can't hold that against you.”

“You're lying. You just know I'm upset.”

“And how should I feel? Yes, I do hate you for giving up. Yet, I can't hate you, because what was stolen from us, wasn't fair. I blame you for everything... Yet, I blame you for nothing.”

Elric looks to the dreamsun, the only one He can ever hope to see.

“All I can tell you is that I can't hold onto us anymore. Death can't reunite us. Neither could life.”

“But this isn't the fate You wanted for me. Otherwise You would have brought me with - ” Sasha was interrupted.

“ - Stop. No. I never would have done that. Turning you into One of Us was never an option.”

“Why not?”

Elric smiles. “Because you are a creature of light. You always have been.”

“You underestimate my shadow side.” Sasha says, playing with a fold in her dress.

“No. You overestimate your own and you underestimate mine. You haven't any idea what I've become.”

“Then perhaps destiny has granted us our appropriate fates.”

Elric smiles wider, almost happily. “Perhaps.”

“I never imagined You so cold.”

“I'm not. You know that.”

“Yeah. I just needed to hear You say it. You still love me?”

“Unfortunately.”

“But You're disappointed in me?”

“Very.”

“Our time is done, isn't it?”

“Yes. It's been done for a long while now.”

“I thought I'd be with You forever.”

“No, you didn't. That just sounds romantic to say.”

“You won't forget about me?” Sasha asks.

“Yes, I will. In time, I won't think of you at all.”

Sasha stares at the ground. She watches as droplets of water land on dry stone and evaporate. “No, You won't. Will You?”

“No, Sasha. I won't.”

Elric walks away and Sasha turns her face towards the sun, closing her eyes, reaching towards the heavens, and laughing.

Then a shark eats her.

∞ ∞ ∞

“What the fuck?!” I laughed. “Are You being serious right now?”

I turned Our Rolls-Royce Phantom off Snow Road, driving past the airport.

“Yes!” Elric defended. “I swear. Fucking shark jumps out of the water and eats her.”

“There aren't any sharks in the lake.”

“Hey, no shit, Sherlock. I know that. Was a fucked-up dream.”

I said, “Well, for awhile there I was going to say maybe it wasn't a dream. But then You got to that end and - what the fuck? Seriously? That's how the dream ended?” I glared at Him, distrusting. “You're totally fucking with Me right now, aren't You? There was no shark. You're fucking with Me!”

Elric started laughing harder.

“Yes,” He said. “I'm fucking with You. There was no shark.”

He started laughing even harder.

“You are such a dick.” I said.

His laughter grew even more intense.

“You're really proud of Yourself right now, aren't You?”

“Yes! You should have seen the look on Your face!” He laughed.

I started laughing too and punched His shoulder. “You are such a dick!”

“Sorry, that was awesome.” He was still cracking up.

I hit Him again.

He hit Me back, playfully. “Cut it out!”

I heard an envelope crinkle in My pocket. It was the loveletter I had written in California. I hadn't given it to Him yet.

“Where the hell are We going, anyway?” Elric asked as I pulled Our Phantom into the International Exposition Center parking lot.

They were having an indoor winter carnival.

Figured it might distract Him and be fun.

Not to attend the carnival. The fun was to hunt prey in the maze of a gargantuan parking lot.

“Thought We might find a young family headed back to their car.”

“Girl Scout troop!” Elric said.

“Pervert.”

“Yeah? So?”

“Hey, um, I need to talk to You first.” I added rather awkwardly as I parked the car far in a back corner of the lot. I shut off “Forsaken (Vocal Version)” by VNV Nation, because I wanted to talk in the silence of a musicless car.

“About what?” Elric asked, concerned.

“There was, well, there was some stuff I learned. In California. I wasn't sure how or when to tell You, and, well, if the information is true, I think it may be important, so I'll just say it now. I shouldn't really wait to bring it up.” I explained.

I proceeded to tell Elric everything that Shamus said about Us.

Naturally, Elric was as doubtful as I had been. He insisted it was a trick of some sort. Just a way to inflate Our egos. Make Us overconfident.

That motive just didn't make any sense though.

Overconfident for what?

Elric ridiculed the whole idea by saying, “You make it sound like some movie cliche - Oh, We're the Chosen Ones!” He waved His hands in the air for emphasis.

Frowning in agreement with how ludicrous that sounded, I said, “I don't think He meant it that way. It's not like We're saving the world or something retarded like that.”

I then added, “He told Me something more - the Offspring of all Royal bloodlines grow stronger - this is how Royalty came to be - They are all greater than Their Betherbin.”

“Betherbin? I think You mean Brethren.” Elric chuckled.

“Whatever! Nevermind!”

“I'm sorry, Baby. Go ahead.”

“No. Breath-rin.”

“Brethren.”

“I'm not talking to You.”

“Finish the damn story!” Elric growled.

“Ugh. Fine. He said Others all grow weaker, but there is sometimes an, um, what did He say, an anemone?”

“Anomaly?”

“Yeah! He said this is the great secret of why Royal bloodlines keep such a strong hold over the Masses and never permit normal vampires to create new Offspring.”

“Because although all normal bloodline Kindred grow progressively weaker with each generation, sometimes a very powerful Kindred is Made instead.” Elric stated.

“Yes.”

“Still sounds like bullshit to Me.”

I shrugged. “Me too.”

Elric smirked.

He was looking out the windshield.

Gradually, an evil, sickly grin rippled over His beautiful lips.

I followed His gaze.

Without another word, I knew He was done discussing this.

Our conversation was over.

Approaching in the dark were two families. One was a mother and father with a young son. The other was a mother and father with two slightly older girls.

Elric flashed a look at Me and slinked from the car.

Parking lot lights flickered and cascaded into darkness in a spiraling radius from Our black Phantom.

- Their bows will strike down the young men; They will have no mercy on infants, nor will They look with compassion on children -

∞ ∞ ∞

Megan and her friend Emma from St. Columbkille school had a super fun time at the carnival. They didn't even mind Megan's mom being so weird and overprotective and stuff, because she let them go off on their own most the time. That was pretty chill. After all, they were totally old enough.

As Megan, her parents, and Emma walked back to their car, Emma kept on talking about the two cute boys they met. Megan kept trying to hush her up, because she didn't want her mom and dad to hear. Megan wasn't prude or anything, just embarrassed. She didn't want her mom hearing about the boys asses! Emma wouldn't shut up about their butts!

Her mother heard them of course. Mothers always do.

Megan's dad was upset, not quite ready for his daughter to be flirting with boys. Megan's mom squeezed her husband's arm, gently. Megan would have been surprised if she had heard what her mother whispered to her dad. “Just let them be girls.” She smiled.

Long had she sought to protect her daughter. Tonight, the efforts of her mother to keep Megan from the shadows only brought her closer to them.

∞ ∞ ∞

Connor was so glad his mom and dad took him to the carnival. His mom was kind of sad lately, because she got laid off a month ago. Connor didn't understand what that was, he just knew it meant she wasn't working anymore. His dad said the carnival was to make up for christmas. Connor didn't have a very good christmas this year. He knew it was because his mom didn't have as much money. He didn't see his dad as much anymore either, because he was trying to work extra hours.

Connor never even noticed the two girls walking behind him and his family, until he heard a weird noise by the cars up ahead. He stopped and looked around. That's when he saw Megan and Emma for the first time.

Their cars were all parked really far from the building.

Near the rear corner of the lot.

Next to the darkened closed runways.

By the mist shrouded woods.

The night was cold.

Breath steamed on the windless air.

Megan watched as her breath swirled and seemed to mix with the fog. It danced and rippled. For a moment, it looked like a girl being touched in those dirty videos she saw at Emma's house, when her parents were in bed.

The noise came again as parking lot lights flickered and cascaded into darkness.

Connor's mother jumped. Startled. She whipped her head around, also seeing Megan and Emma. “What was that?” She asked the other parents.

“I don't know,” said Megan's father. “Sure sounded weir - ”

The shadows growled again. Something big circled them in the dark, just at the edge of their vision.

The dark seemed to expand. Extending and closing in, all at the same time. All the parking lot lamps extinguished. Everything was dimly and strangely lit by the distant International Exposition Center sign and a sprinkle of blueish runway lights.

As the mists grew thicker, the blue speckles in the dark began to fade.

Something deep and guttural was breathing just beyond the cars.

“Coyotes?” Emma whispered to Megan.

“There's no coyotes. We live in the city, idiot.” Megan chided. She added with a whisper, “Besides, it sounded bigger.”

Emma knew what she was talking about. She saw on the news there were coyotes out by Burke Lakefront Airport, so there could be here too. “How do you know how big a coyote - ”

With one swift leap, something leapt from the fog, snatched up Conner, and flew into the blackness.

His mother and father shouted simultaneously.

“Connor!”

“No!”

Connor screamed and felt himself get pulled up into the air. Mist and cars and fog raced beneath him.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Megan!” Her mother shouted.

“Emma!” Said Megan's dad.

They lost sight of them in the fog. Having seen what happened, Megan and Emma ran down an aisle of parked cars. The windshields were all frosted and the metal chilled under Megan's palm.

Something dark moved overhead, scraping the top of the cars.

Megan gasped.

Though it had no eyes, she knew the dark was somehow looking at her.

∞ ∞ ∞

Connor tumbled into the snow-wet grass next to the woods.

Bruised and mortified, he scrambled to his feet. He heard screams come from the parking lot. Some of the screams sounded like his mom and dad, which scared him even more.

Connor spun around. Horrified, cold and not sure of what just grabbed him and flew him through the air, he stood paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next.

∞ ∞ ∞

Megan started to run. Weaving between cars.

Air grew colder.

Her cheeks tingled. Her eyes watered. The maze of cars and darkness confused her.

Dead ends.

Ways blocked.

Snowdrifts and steel.

As she ran faster, the walls of cars became stranger. Fencing her in. Driving her onward. When she finally found the courage to look behind her, Emma and her parents were nowhere to be seen.

Cars aren't parked like mazes, she thought. Why can't I find my way back?

Lucidity in a dream. Suddenly realizing nothing made sense.

He appeared from the dark of snowpile shadows.

Megan wanted to scream, but her throat wouldn't let her.

∞ ∞ ∞

Connor froze with fear, as a giant white wolf approached him from the dark woods. Far in the distance, he saw the light from the carnival, but it seemed a mile away. A speck of glitter in the dark.

The wolf came closer and he wanted to scream, but his throat wouldn't let him.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Are you afraid?” Elric asked Megan.

She didn't answer. She looked frantically over her shoulders for someplace to hide. Then, as if embarrassed by her fear, she instantly stopped. Shut her eyes tight. Reopened them. And started at Elric, tears streaming down her cheeks.

In a wisp of shadow her surrounded her, “Your fear runs deep. Boils to your flesh like so much perfume.”

“I'm not afraid.” Megan quivered, shaking her head.

She shut her eyes tighter, fighting the nightmare to awaken.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Are you afraid?” I asked Connor.

He nodded.

I leapt at him, lifting his small body up by the neck and pinning him against a tree. He squealed in pain.

Looking down at me, his eyes were filled not with terror, but with anger. Feeble fists punched at My arm.

∞ ∞ ∞

Megan, with her eyes shut hard, felt His lips on her neck.

She thought of the boys from the carnival.

She thought of the time she kissed that older boy at Emma's party and no one knew. When he took her in the bedroom and she got away before he took things too far.

She heard her jacket ripping.

She felt her pants get torn.

Huge, muscular demon hands, with claws like rusted railroad spikes, scraped her skin.

Between her thighs, she felt her muscles ripple up into the pit of her stomach.

A dark wind shivered over her flesh, making her aware of her nudity for the first time. Training bra and panties entwined in her toes and snow. She dared to open her eyes and He was beautiful.

She didn't know how long she stared.

She didn't know when He entered her.

The pain of her hymen ripped.

She didn't want this.

What was He doing?

She wanted this.

Hand at her throat. Unable to breathe.

She never wanted this.

She always wanted this.

Megan felt the first bite into her neck as her orgasm rippled down her back and swirled into her limbs.

Her sharp agony like cries from a silvery flutesong.

Would He touch her?

How would it feel?

She wanted to feel His cock in her mouth.

Wasn't He already touching her?

Did He?

The icy metal of the car hood shot icicle pain through her nipples and stomach.

Everything disjointed.

Time was no longer linear. Feelings. Images. All a haze.

Crypts and soil. Fiendishly sickened imps sprout from blackhollow closet depths. Battling fog and moonshine in slaying Erinyes fate. Fury churns to scarlet and all the world is hate like volcanohearts. Toxic greenwood parted to crystalline seas. Writhing under flesh like an infectious beetlepinch scraping flesh from bone. Beneath raincloud mires and honeymead ruin.

We can not see for splintered visions.

One can never hide forever.

∞ ∞ ∞

Connor was so scared, but he thought I was pretty too. He couldn't understand how a monster could be pretty.

My fangs sank deep into his thigh.

Pain rocketed into his heart and he was scared it would stop beating.

My tongue traced his chest.

His neck.

Connor tensed as My mouth surrounded his dick. He felt it get really hard, like it did when he looked at those pictures in the magazines his big brother kept hidden in the closet.

Too young to climax, he shook with orgasmic convulsions, not understanding what they were. His hips bucked uncontrollably against Me as I forced him into My cunt.

Shuddering, his blood began to flow harder.

As his whole body began to quiver, My fangs ripped into his throat.

He squealed. The sound was shrill and pitiful, like puppies cracked with baseball bats.

Connor collapsed, his arms flopping weakly around My neck like an infant.

∞ ∞ ∞

Megan was lying across Elric, curled on His chest.

He smiled at Me as I approached.

An ephemeral smile, fading fast as it appeared.

In the distance, parents called in a panic for children.

My top undone, Connor in My arms, I traced the claw of My pinky across My nipple. Blood flowed.

Gently, I moved Connor's lips to My breast.

He suckled like an infant.

His young cock swelling again.

He gagged, then drank more eagerly.

Elric, at first confused, slowly understood My intentions and nodded.

Smiling, He turned to His prey.

Megan slid down His body as He softly pressed her shoulder. Her cum trailed down His leg as she slid her dissolute mouth down by His hips. Eyes half closed, she excitedly took His cock into her mouth and sucked. The blood slurped down her eager throat. Convulsing in both anguish and the aftershocks of her first orgasms.

∞ ∞ ∞

Elric and I returned Our naked changeling children to their battered and beaten parents.

As We drove out of the parking lot and all the lights flickered back on, Megan's mother had regained consciousness and could be heard screaming in the distance.

Stopping near the security booth, Elric said to the guard, “You may want to call an ambulance. I think some families were assaulted in the parking lot.”

I burst out laughing as I gunned the engine and the Phantom barreled away towards the highway.

Elric touched My shoulder and dragged His hand down My side. The envelope crinkled in My pocket again. “Hey. Thanks, My love. I needed that.”

“You haven't tasted blood that young in awhile.” I observed.

“No. I haven't.” he sighed. “But it was more than that. Much more.”

I smiled at Him, “I know. I just got to thinking about everything We're going through and I thought maybe it's time We start a family of Our Own. Those who are beholden to Our will. Instead of everyone being beholden to Our Sisters.”

“Yes. I totally understood. Believe Me. I knew I fell in love with You for a reason.” He smiled.

I grinned back.

“What was his name?”

“Connor.” I said.

“Megan.” He replied before I asked.

He knew as I did, We'd be seeing Our children again.

“What was that?”

“What was - oh!” I saw Him pointing at My pocket. Mortals might not be so nosy as to inquire of the source of crinkling paper in one's pocket, but We aren't exactly Creatures saving receipts or jotting down shopping lists. So, something as mundane as paper in My pocket truly wasn't so mundane.

I became a bit embarrassed.

“Um, I, uh, wrote something for You, actually.”

“Wrote something?” Elric asked.

My shrug was awkward. “Well, it's - it's a loveletter I wrote in California, actually.”

“You just ended two sentences with 'actually'.” He mocked.

I said nothing. Ass.

“Are You serious?” Elric asked. “A loveletter?”

He sounded so disbelieving. As if it were completely idiotic and juvenile. Part of Me was hurt. But even more of Me was angry.

“Yes! A loveletter! Fucker.” I quietly added, “I missed You.”

“Holy. Fucking. Shit.”

My heart dropped. Now I was just hurt. “What? You think it's dumb? It was dumb, wasn't it? Oh, I shouldn't have written - ”

“ - Hel, no! No, no, no, no. Not at all. I just - I - I did the same thing!”

“What? Stop it. You're fucking with Me again!”

“No! No, I'm not! I'm not fucking with You. I swear!”

“You're not serious.”

“Yes, I'm serious! While You were gone, I missed You too and, well, I wrote You a letter too.”

“You did? You're kidding.”

He was brimming in that way people do when they have just realized a huge connection to someone they love. “Yes, I did! I'm not kidding. I swear! How weird is that?”

“You're fucking with Me again.”

“Hel, no, I swear I'm not fucking with You. I wrote You a loveletter too.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. That's so weird.” Elric shook His head.

This was one of those conversations you would lose sleep to have.

Hour after hour, fading away. Happy and thrilled.

How I loved feeling so bound to Him.

My heart melted. “I just fell in love with You all over again. Yeah, it's weird. But weird in an awesome way! Read it to Me.”

“Read it to You? Well, it's not with Me. I left it at home.”

“Well, I know that. I mean when We get home.” I didn't really know. I did think He had it with Him, but I felt stupid, so I wasn't going to admit what I had been thinking.

“Well? Let Me read Yours!”

“No.”

“No?” He asked in shock. “Why did You bring it along if You weren't going to let Me read it?”

“Well, I was waiting for an appropriate time. But now, I'm thinking the appropriate time is when We get home. I'll go off and read Your letter and You can read Mine at the same time.”

He hesitated, considering if He should fight Me to get the letter out of My pocket.

“I see what You're doing.” I said. “No. Wait until We get home.”

Finally, He relented. “Okay. Fine.”

Elric smiled, looking out the car window, happy that We were so in sync with Each Other.

“I heard You, by the way.” He said.

“Heard what?”

“When You Called the Corners for Me.”

Shyly, I said nothing.

Finally, I uttered, “That's a high price to pay.”

He chuckled, “No, My Love. For a mortal the price is high. You summoned that which You already have - My Love. You can't be called to pay for a wish that was already granted to You.”

I said nothing, but smiled in contentment.

Yes. Sometimes, He really did know just what to say.

Driving past Holy Cross on the way home, Elric said, “That dream was the first time I've seen sunlight in over a decade.”

I was pissed that He was thinking of her again at a time like this.

Then, I didn't mind at all, because I realized it was an empty goodbye.

I told Him, “I don't think it was a dream.”

“I don't either, Hel.” He sighed, “I don't either.”

In time, I slowly came to see the simple truth - He was haunted by the ghost of Sasha while she was still alive. Once she was dead, He finally started to forget about her. He was finally able to let Himself be all Mine. Thank the Goddess I tried to turn that bitch and she killed herself. It was the best thing that ever happened to Me.

That was the very last time Elric ever mentioned her.

He never spoke Sasha's name again.

Chapter Twelve

The envelope was ornate and bronzed parchment with black velour calligraphic swirls, like tribal Lichtenberg figures, encircling an ornate letter “H” on the face.

You have no clue what the fuck Lichtenberg figures are.

You should look it up.

You'll realize what a cool envelope it was if you understand what the fuck I'm talking about.

I smiled as My fingertips savored the pleasant texture of the paper.

Elric decided He didn't want to read it to Me.

He said it was meant to be read, not spoken. He promised He'd read it to Me later, if I so desired. But He insisted the first time be on My Own.

The letter felt like “Home” by Gabrielle Alpin turned to paper.

The decor of any home tells a great deal of those living within it. The Unseelie Estate was luxuriant and antiquated and perfect. As the DuBois family itself, it appeared nothing in the mansion had aged a day since the century it was born. Tapestries and lounges and armoires and dressers were lovely yet grotesque. The walls themselves sometimes felt skeletoned by ancient beasts instead of olden oak and timbers. All appeared timeworn, and bleak, and doleful, and ruthless, and heartbreaking in the depth of its beauty.

There are so many grand and glorious rooms in Our Unseelie Estate. Was always difficult to choose one. Finally, I found one far off, that I hadn't seen before.

Settling into a lush two-century-old fauteuil armchair in a lounge, I began reading the loveletter Elric had composed for Me.

Look up fauteuil too. Educate yourself, asshole.

∞ ∞ ∞

Hel, My Love, My Evermore Eternal,

Never should I have agreed to let You go to Hollywood alone. You are all I think of. With each passing moment, I dream of You more deeply. More everyday, You bind Your soul unto Mine. With every minute, I feel more a part of You.

Honeybees and fireworks glisten in My hopes of You. Skin of summer ice cream and bluebell oceans in Your hair. My favorite color of pattospade blue - the richest Caribbean ocean of violet eyes. So lost in Your warmth, that never will I need another.

The very first moment I ever saw You, I thought You were the most beautiful girl to ever walk this earth. I knew in that instant, You would change everything. I still feel that way about You today. No girl has ever taken My breath away like You do.

Everytime I see Your face, time stops for a minute. I feel like I've looked into those eyes 10,000 times.

All My life, I dreamed of finding a girl who would love Me and accept Me just the way I am.

But I was wrong. My dream was flawed.

As time went on, I learned love was not enough. What I truly wanted and needed was devotion. Plain and simple, I needed a girl to stay with Me. One who will never run away and leave Me alone again.

Then You came along.

I am so lucky to have found You.

I love you, Hel.

For I adore every facet of what You are.

I do not simply seek to love Your light. Give Me Your darkness. Show Me Your shadows. My love shall not waiver. Always I shall love only You. I was destined to love You, since before I was born.

Adore Me. Be My queen. Allow Me to rule You. To seduce You. To charm You. To woo You. Obey My commands and I shall bend to Your every will. I am both Your lord and master, and Your humble servant.

I can not promise You the world, My love.

I will not vow to give You everything Your heart desires.

For I shall have moments when I fall short of My potential. Although such times may prove a rarity, there will be moments when I shall let You down.

However, I do vow to always be the best I can be for You. To pay attention to the little details. To never take You for granted. To never ignore You. To show I appreciate You. To remind You how blessed I feel for being reunited with You for an immortal lifetime of happily-ever-after.

These I can pledge.

So often, I have deemed You “the love of My life” and My “one true love”.

But as time goes on, I begin to think You may be My “first love” too. Because I don't recall loving this deeply before. You are the only girl I have loved like this. I have never and will never love anyone quite the same way again. You are My first.

Yes, I have claimed to love before.

But never quite this intensely.

I eagerly look forward to all Our future will hold together. The joys. The disappointments. The triumphs. The sorrows. The arguments. The reconciliations. The desire. The passion. Most of all, I look forward to decade after decade with You, lost in the comfort of Our eternal love.

I belong to You for all time.

You once said You sometimes imagine I am a dark angel put upon this earth to save You, and You fear You may have to give Me up someday. That isn't true. And if that were true, I wouldn't allow it. I would clip My wings. I would defy Heaven and Hell. I would renounce My duty, just to remain with You. I will never give up on You. I will never abandon You. I will never walk away from You. I belong to You. I am Yours - heart and soul.

Every moment of My life, every experience I have ever had, every love, every sorrow, every minute spent upon this earth, has led Me to this time - to knowing You. This is why I am here. You are what all the hours of My life have brought Me to.

The fate which has befallen Me comes clear.

There is nothing to lament nor curse in the shadows to which I have been banished for eternity. For I now have You. You are My reason for being in the dark. You are My fate. All I have been through, in this sinister mansion, among these sordid beasts, this has all coalesced, so You would become a part of Me.

Everything has lead unto You.

I finally have a reason for being.

I finally know My purpose.

I finally found You.

My one.

My only.

My love.

My life.

You are My noble and beautiful queen. You are not just a bride to Me. You are far beyond that. You are My other half. My soulmate. My wife from every lifetime.

All My life, I have seen My future. I have felt it. Maybe not the entire path, but I can see a certain distance ahead. I feel where I need to be. By the powers of a seer, and an empath, and a dreamdancer, I know the route of My journey.

When We met, the entire path of My life came to a crossroads. I knew in that moment, the path of My life was changing forever. I could never go back. The road would never be the same. Walking with You is the only way I can travel.

You are My life.

You are My future.

With each passing day, You are woven more deeply into the fabric of My very essence. Your tapestry of life, intertwined with Mine. Every fiber, every strand, tied to one another on the very loom of Fate.

Were I to walk through the very fries of Hell, it still wouldn't be enough to express My feelings for You. Even an eternal lifetime will never be enough time to make You understand how I do feel. Saying “I love You” is nowhere near being meaningful enough to tell You what You mean to Me.

This night I needed Your voice. I was desperate for Your laughter. Yet We did not speak and I knew I'd lay in bed heartbroken for the lack of hearing it. The mansion this night, filled with hundreds of souls, yet I sit alone in Our bedchambers, away from the fray, just to put pen to paper for Thee.

So I wrote these words to feel close to You. I wrote these words, so You could feel My heart across space and time, as I think only of You. Only of Us. Only of Our future together.

If I can not be blessed to hear Your voice tonight, I will spend an hour writing this letter and expressing all the love in My heart which overflows for You. If I can not be with You now, I will put pen to paper, in the hope that by thinking of You and talking to You in My mind, We shall feel each Other that much closer in Our hearts.

I look at Your picture. I smell Your perfume. I wish You sweet dreams and a gentle night, My werewolf. My princess Aurora. My holy and dark Queen. My tiny dancer.

You remain in My thoughts always.

My glorious love.

My heartbeat.

My breath.

My light.

My Hel.

Forever Possessed By You,

Elric

∞ ∞ ∞

Softly, I folded the pages. I inhaled the edge of the paper, lightly scented with a cologne which smelled like the nape of His neck.

- You'll be always on My mind -

- but there's a shining in the shadows -

No one had ever written Me anything like that before.

Reopening the sheets, I read them all over again.

And again.

Halfway through reading the letter for a fourth time, Elric came into the room. My letter was in His hand. He was wearing nothing but the bloodstone pendant and black boxers.

He approached on cat paws, not wanting to disturb My focus.

Grinning when I made eye-contact, I motioned to the necklace. Made Me so happy to see Him wearing it. “You like it?”

“I love it.” He said, touching it with His free hand.

“Really? You're not just saying that? Because I know You're not the jewelery type.”

“You're right. I'm not. But I love it, because it's from You.” He winked. “I love anything You give Me. Unless, it's like, a bag of poop or something.”

“What!?” I laughed. “What did You just say?”

“You know, a bag of poop.” He chuckled.

“Why the fuck would I give You - What is wrong with You?”

He was doubled over laughing.

I snorted.

“Well,” Elric explained, “You know people always say stupid shit like that. Like, “Oh, I'd love anything You give Me.” But that's bullshit. You wouldn't love any gift. What if someone gave You a great big sack of shit? That's not a gift You'd appreciate.”

I was laughing My ass off.

“Oh, so now the necklace I gave You is a pile of shit?” I teased. “Is that what You're trying to say?”

“No! I never said that!” He laughed.

“Yes, You did. You said it was like giving You a pile of shit.”

“I did not!”

“Yeah, I get it. That's fine.” I smirked, continuing to taunt Him.

“Oh, hey, listen.” He said.

“What?”

“Shhh. Listen. Listen. Be quiet for a second.” He held up His hand.

“What? I don't hear anything.” I stopped laughing.

“Listen.”

The room was silent.

I heard nothing.

“You hear that?” Elric asked.

“Hear what?”

“That's the sound of You shutting the fuck up.” He laughed.

“Ohhhh! Bastard!” I looked around from something to throw at Him, but didn't find anything. Damnit.

He was laughing even harder. “Yeah, there You go.”

“You're a jerk.”

“Well, I love the necklace.”

“Whatever. Bag of poop. Fucking weirdo.” I laughed.

“Well, it's not a bag of poop. So, I love it. Seriously, thank You, baby.”

“You're welcome.”

He put His arms around Me and kissed Me. “Seriously, I love anything You give Me.”

“Except bags of poop?”

“Except bags of poop.”

“You sweet talker. You really know how to charm a woman.”

“Damn right.”

“What about My letter?” I asked, “How was it? Letters, I should say?”

He kneeled next to Me and took hold of My hand. “Glorious. Touching. Magical. I loved them. All of them. And the poem. Everything. Thank You.”

“Okay, don't overdo it.” I said, a little shy.

Elric sprung His spine straight. “I'm not. I mean it. It was glorious and magical.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. No one has ever written Me anything like it before.”

“No one? Oh, come on.” I scrunched My neck back. “You've gotten loveletters before.”

He shrugged. “Loveletters, sure. I guess. But anything I got in the past doesn't matter. I never got anything so heartfelt and memorable as Yours.”

He sure knew how to say the right things.

Biting My lip, I said, “I never told You about Michael. He was My last boyfriend. Before I met You. Michael LaStone.”

“You read My loveletter and start talking about an ex-boyfriend? Fuck You! Thanks a lot.” Elric snapped, half-joking but half-serious.

“No, no, wait! Hear Me out!” I said.

“No. I want to hear about Me. What You feel for Me. Not some story about some other fucking guy.”

“This is a story about You! If You'd let Me finish! It's a story about what an asshole He was and why You're so much better than him!”

Elric sighed. “Fine. What of him?”

By that point, I was hesitant to even tell the story. But I started by saying, “The things You said about devotion. That part really struck Me. About wanting someone loyal? See, when I met Michael, he was everything I ever wanted in a boy. Handsome. Chivalrous. Charming. Ambitious. We shared everything in common. He truly understood me. He gave me the kind of deep, soulful connection all girls dream about.”

I didn't want to say much more, because I could see Elric getting more annoyed.

“So what happened?” Elric asked, impatiently.

“He left. He broke up with me. Never really gave me any sort of reason. He just didn't love me as deeply as I loved him.”

“And?” Elric was clearly agitated, so I tried to talk quickly.

“And I learned something. I used to believe a love like ours was all I needed. I believed that kind of “magical connection” crap would last forever. But eventually I realized, that was all bullshit. Those connections don't mean shit. All those requirements I had, that list of ideal traits I wanted in a boy, it was all horseshit. What truly matters is devotion. Plain and simple. Nothing more.”

“Devotion.” Elric smiled. He understood now.

“Yes. That is why I'm Yours, Elric. Because I knew with You, I would always have Your devotion. We don't need to have everything in common or share all the same desires. It doesn't matter if We grew up with the same music or fashions or pop culture or any of that superficial bullshit. Most boys I dated in the past all had a sense of honesty and loyalty to never cheat on me. But loyalty and honesty are not enough. Devotion is what matters. Despite Our differences, I will always be devoted to You.”

Elric nodded. “I get it. Other boys loved you, but it was only fleeting. Temporary. They would change their minds. No one ever vowed to be yours and stuck to their convictions.”

“Exactly. They were all a bunch of quitters. They gave up. Don't get Me wrong. I'm not like most of those stupid fucking bitches who blame the man. Not at all. It's not their fault. That's just who they are. I'm the jackass who got involved in the relationship. The common denominator in those relationships was me. Clearly I'm the problem, since I kept on picking the same kind of douchebags over and over again!”

Elric chuckled, “As soon as things get difficult or unhappy, people throw it all away. Blame everyone but themselves.”

I nodded in eager agreement. “Totally. People are just selfish idiots who expect to be happy all the time. The minute someone has a disagreement or gets into an argument, people are ready to throw the relationship away. People constantly prattle on about how they deserve to be happy and they won't be miserable and they know what they are worth. Fucking self-centered assholes. Relationships are about going out of your way to make the other person happy, not about what you expect them to do for you. That's the way a 3 year old thinks. Me, me, me. Most people never grow out of that.”

Elric said, “True. It's not about pleasing oneself all the time. Anyone who avoids pain and darkness at any cost is either a complete coward or a fucking idiot. I want to experience the full spectrum of emotions. I want to be passionately happy. I want to be completely miserable. I want to feel pain and anguish and I want to feel joy and elation. Those stupid fucking mortals who think they're clinically depressed or have anxiety attacks or whatever and then go and take medication for it? Those people are shitballs. They need to get a fucking backbone. Man up a little bit. Quit being such pussies and medicating yourself into a fucking zombie drone state of mind. Weak people do that.”

Elric whined, imitating cowardly people, ““Oh, I'm sad and apathetic so I'm going to cut myself to feel something.” Fucking psycho nutjob. Get over yourself. Pansy.”

I ran My fingertip along the scars on My wrists, knowing He was right.

I fell deeper in love in that moment. He really got it. Moreso than most.

“I hear You. I totally agree.” I said.

I held His letter up and asked, “Did You mean all of this? Do You think We're soulmates? I didn't think You'd be One to believe that kind of romantic stuff.” I smirked. Not in mockery, just in amusement. I thought it was cute that My psychotic-badass-motorcycling-vampire and dark-faerie-Lord fancied the romance of soulmates.

Elric answered quickly, as if He had already given it much thought and was waiting for Me to ask. “I think We're a very different kind of soulmates.”

“What do You mean?”

“Well, most people think soulmates are fate and destiny. Two souls split in the beginning of time. Destined to reunite. But when You really think about it, where's the romance in being paired with someone You have no choice about? Doesn't seem very special at all, when You think of it in that way. Such a destiny becomes a sort of, I dunno, a spiritual version of a prearranged marriage, doesn't it? How many lifetimes can We trace that back? What forces determined such a fate? Were We ever two free spirits with a choice? Were We locked into an inevitability? How can a loveaffair We can't control be true love at all? Isn't having a choice far more romantic?"

I never looked at it that way.

“I guess.” I thought about what He was saying. “Love based upon free-will is more meaningful than love based upon fate?”

“Yes. Exactly. And I believe soulmates are free-will, not fate. I think that's what We are. To Me, it seems far more romantic to think soulmates choose to create one another. We are the architects of Our soulmates. Not so romantic to imagine We are predestined to love others by forces beyond Our control.”

That made sense to Me.

I had never thought of it that way.

I realize I already said that. It was just a bit of a shock to see the world through His magnificent sinister eyes sometimes.

I asked, “So We are soulmates because We wish to be?”

“I think so. We have wished as such for lifetimes. Soulmates are not people. Soulmates are moments in time, We choose to share. Maybe the bond of soulmates is created by what We both choose to become to One Another.”

Nuzzling into Him, I asked, “What do You choose to become to Me?”

Deep and sincere, He spoke, “Ruler. Master. Husband. Mate. Fucktoy.”

I giggled. “Nice. King?”

“Aye, My Queen. A King too.”

“I should like to be a Dark Queen one day.”

“You already are, My Love.”

“But to feel like one.” I explained. “To have subjects cower before Me. To make them subjugate to Me. To have the weak look to Me for help and comfort and guidance and protection. Yet at the same time, for them all to fear Me. To tremble before My wrath.”

“Subjugate?”

“Yeah, I used a big word.”

He laughed. “Yes, I'm proud of You.”

I giggled. “Thank You.”

“The Queen of Shadow and Moonlight.”

“Yes!” My eyes sparked, knowing He understood. “And You by My side as the Dark King of all children's nightmares.”

“I should give children nightmares?”

“Well, maybe not Our children. Just other ones.” I giggled.

Elric laughed. “Oh, nice. Our children?”

“Yeah. Like Connor and Megan. We'll start with them.”

Elric said nothing.

He suddenly became very quiet.

“Uh, oh.” I said. “Talk about having kids and the man goes silent?”

“No, no.” Elric clarified. “It's not that. It's just - ”

“- Just what?”

“You're so amazing.” He smiled.

“Why am I amazing?”

“Because, I never would have imagined Myself having children. I mean, let's face it, that's not something We can do. Not like mortals do anyway. So, I never even thought about anything like that actually happening. I never thought of being a Father. Then, totally unexpected, You hand Our children to Me. No planning. No discussion. Just - hey! Here they are!”

I giggled, “Isn't that how most mortal women spring a family on their husbands?”

He laughed. “I guess so! You got Me there!”

I laughed and I felt His muscles shake beneath Me.

Elric continued, “My point is, I'm trying to thank You for - I dunno. For opening a new world of possibilities for Me. For Us.”

“You're welcome, My Lord. But am I not already Your Daughter?”

“Yes. You are. But You are more My Bride. You know that.”

I teased Him, “Oh, but doesn't Daddy want to tuck Me in bed?”

“What You in bed?”

“Tuck. Pervert. Tuck.”

“Yeah, We can fuck. Sure, Daddy would love to fuck You in bed.”

I rolled My eyes. “What am I going to do with You?”

Mischievously looking at My cleavage, He grinned.

“Oh, I think We just established the answer to that.”

∞ ∞ ∞

In the months that passed, Elric changed in ways I wouldn't have imagined. We became closer than ever. He became more loving and affectionate. I don't mean that in some weak sissy bitch way. He was still as wicked as ever. He just didn't hold back anymore.

As winter melted into spring, We became more removed from everyone else. At least from the DuBois Sisters.

We tested Ourselves too.

Pushing Our powers. Testing the extent of Our abilities.

Elric discovered amazing strengths. Not only could He do some extraordinary things, but everything He could do, I learned to do better.

Could Shamus have been right after all?

Were We truly so powerful?

We spent more time with Connor and Megan, bringing Our revenant children deeper into the shadows of Our world.

In time, He controlled Me more. He protected Me more. He became more Father and Husband and I loved it. I loved how He took charge of Us. I loved His dominant vicious jealousy and possessiveness. I loved submitting to His will. The more He would exert His cravings over Me, the more powerful I became. Freedom and independence are not love. Men and women are supposed to belong to each other. We are supposed to possess each other. Fuck those feminist dyke whores and rapist college frat boys who preach otherwise.

They can have their divorces and independence.

I'll take loyalty and mutual servitude.

In the past, I used to think jealousy was a sign of weakness. I thought jealousy meant someone was insecure. I had boyfriends who were never jealous and I was always so impressed by that. I thought it meant they loved me. They trusted me. Then I learned, a lack of jealousy does not equal trust at all. What it really means is that those boys didn't give a shit about me at all. They didn't care who I would see or talk to or befriend, because they didn't give a damn about losing me.

Jealousy. Possessiveness. These are not signs of insecurity. They are proof the person really needs you. They can not bear to be without you. These traits show true strength.

Elric and I were raised by generations who fixed things when they were broken. The world had become full of generations who throw things away when they break.

This is why mortals end their loveaffairs.

This is why such words never crossed Our lips, even as a joke.

Elric, for all His sarcasm and venom, never jokes about leaving Me.

He jokes about everything, but never about cheating on Me.

He jokes about My vocabulary, but He never insults My intelligence.

He teases My flaws, but never belittles My beauty.

For all His dark humor, there are certain lines He never crosses. Certain wisecracks He never makes. For all His brutal cruelty, there is a certain level of honor and respect He always gives Me.

That's what I love about Him the most. He was a cocky fucking asshole, yet He still managed to treat Me like a Queen. He knew how to be a chivalric gentleman without being a prissy wimp.

I was His more than ever before.

And He was Mine.

Chapter Thirteen

There is a house where a brother and a sister share a room. They're twins, and they love one another very much. In their games and play, they always fight together, they always rescue one another, they're always on the same side. As with all such children, their room is a very special place. It is magical.

In fact, there is a door in their room. A special door. A door only they can see. It's a magical door and it leads into the clouds.

One day, the brother returned to the room through the door, covered in fluffy bits of cloud after killing a mean dragon. He saw his sister on her bed, crying.

“What's wrong?” He asked. “Have the pirates returned?” He bravely wondered, drawing his sword.

“No.” The girl sobbed.

Her brother sat down beside her and placed his arm gently around her shoulders. “Then why are you crying?”

She did not answer for a long time, only cried. Finally, she said, “Fairnainstius is gone.”

Now, the disappearance of Fairnainstius was by far good reason to despair. For Fairnainstius was their loyal teddy bear. An ally of greatest might. And their friend. He had fought a thousand battles by their side and sailed a hundred ships with them upon endless seas. Indeed, he was the bravest teddy bear any child could have ever hoped to have known.

“Then tonight, we'll go the Faeire King.” And without much further ado, the boy put away his sword and got ready for bed. Then, he and his sister waited until nightfall, for only then cold they travel to see the king. They were both very sad, for they couldn't hope to know what happened to their friend Fairnainstius.

Later that night, just as the brother and sister prepared to set sail on their beds, down the river to the king, Fairnainstius climbed in through the magic door, holding a platter of cookies.

“Hello,” said the bear. And the girl ran to him and squeezed him warmly.

She was crying. “Where did you go? We thought someone had taken you.”

“Oh,” said Fairnainstius, “I'm sorry. I was just out to get some cookies. Would you like one?”

Fairnainstius was very wise and knew no children could resist chocolate cookies with cloud stuffing. The three of them sat down and ate and laughed and quickly forgot about going to see the Faerie King.

And that's the story of one of their Almost-Adventures...

∞ ∞ ∞

Elric finished His bedtime story as Connor fell fast asleep.

I entered the room, just as He got to the part about the cookies.

Megan was curled up too.

They were spending the day with Us, to be ready for the concert the next evening.

Leaning over Connor, I kissed Him and whispered, “Then the brother raped Fairnainstius up his fluffy ass and blew a great big cumshot all over Fairnainstius's fur.”

Connor kept right on sleeping. He hadn't heard Me say a thing.

Elric did.

He squinted at Me in utter revulsion.

“There is really something wrong with You!” He whispered.

“But I said it with My eyes closed.”

“Ah. So it was romantic?”

“Totally.”

“Fucking freak!” He shook His head disapprovingly, trying to suppress His laughter. “That was worse than the time You said You'd give Me a picture of your cat Bast, so I could jerk off to it.”

I laughed harder and We scurried out of the room, to not awake Connor and Megan.

“The look on Your face when I said that!” I smirked.

Elric shook His head. “You are one sick pervert, You know that? The fuck is wrong with You?”

“You looked at Me and went, WHAT?!” I giggled.

“That's because You shocked the hell out of Me! You were being all nice and sweet and I thought You were offering to give Me something all cute and shit, then next thing I know, You had to go and make it dirty! Fucking weirdo. Masturbate to cat pictures? What the hell? Why the fuck would I want - man, You're fucking twisted.”

We were both hanging on each other and stupid with laughter.

“Let's go to bed, You shitball.” Elric ordered.

“I love You.”

“I love you, too. You fucking twisted, deviant psychobitch.”

Chapter Fourteen

Lollipoploser Festival sold out all 19,000 seats and finally rolled into Blossom Music Center in Cuyahoga Falls on the fifth of August.

The festival doors were at noon and the first band went on at 2:00pm.

During those daylight hours, We missed the opening act, Rollins Band, followed by Butthole Surfers, then Ice-T & Body Count, and Living Color.

Simply going to the concert was one of the most thrilling moments of My life. The uninitiated critics of the time, descendants of Joplin and Hendrix, kept comparing the event to Woodstock, since there had never been a festival concert to compare since then.

Once they arrived in those dark woods, I think they saw how wrong they were.

This wasn't Woodstock.

This wasn't safe Grateful Dead hippies.

This wasn't easy going Bruce Springsteen rock.

This was a bacchanal for the Stygian generation.

This was chaos.

This was primal.

This was a celebration of anger, frustration and despair.

Our tribe had converged.

This was our music, our culture, our night.

Camillia declined to attend. She seemed unusually tense that night. Although I had gone to California to apologize, She was never the same after that fight. Like an idiot, I actually thought it was because She truly cared about Elric. So, I kept My distance from Her. We all did. Elric. Jacqueline. Myself.

Leaving Her at home, Elric and I went to the show with Jacqueline, Allyson, Megan and Connor.

Megan and Connor had already spent the last several months making a routine of sneaking out of their houses to join Us. Anytime they got caught, their parents simply remembered them as sleeping safe and sound all night or thinking they were staying at a friends house.

“Let Your Body Learn” by Nitzer Ebb blared as Elric got dressed.

He looked fucking incredible.

Elric was dressed in tight black vinyl pants, hugging His firm ass like liquid latex. He walked in black Docs, His broad shoulders covered in a tailed tuxedo jacket, and a black ruffled poet shirt. Fully made up with eyeliner and the darkest maroon nailpolish and ebon lipstick, He was truly My Dark Prince. Of all His handsome nights, He looked even more fucking gorgeous than ever. There were times when He was so beautiful I wanted to hold Him gently in My arms and protect Him and never let anything hurt Him again... then there were times when I just wanted to grab His ass and ram His fucking cock down My throat.

When I told Him that, He responded with, “Well... which time is this?”

In Her typical black leather jacket and a Nitzer Ebb “That Total Age” shirt (inspired by Elric's song selection, no doubt), Allyson wore black fishnets and a plaid red schoolgirl skirt. Bright yellow Docs, which She spiked Herself, adorned Her feet.

Jacqueline and I both opted to be a bit more classy.

She wore a red vinyl pencil dress, under a black vinyl corset. Fishnet leggings ended in leather platform boots.

I wore a custom Versace made of leather and lace with a flowing skirt. My lipstick matched Elric's nailpolish and My nailpolish matched His lips. Fine black lines in tribal gothic swirls framed My left eye. My boots were patent red leather Docs.

Elric sighed breathlessly, when He saw Me.

I know. How the fuck does anyone sigh breathlessly?

It means He had the body language of a sigh, but only His jaw moved, because He was too enamored to draw a breath. Thanks for fucking up My description, asshole.

Connor was in plain jeans, a pair of black Vans and a “Sheena's In A Goth Gang” Cramps shirt.

Megan looked darling. I had turned her into a genuine libertine lolita gothgirl. The little whore still sucked her thumb when she came. I taught her well. She had purple streaks in her blonde curls. Her body was sheathed in a fishnet top with electrical tape covering her nipples and a black vest which matched her Daddy. A purse with Ladytron “Seventeen” was in her hands. A frilly black skirt, leggings, and low maroon boots completed it.

Trust Me, I'm well-aware of the fact that I have barely mentioned the clothing people are wearing in this story. That's because most of the time, it doesn't make any fucking difference. Who cares what We wore at the cemetery or on an airplane? Going clubbing and to a show like this was different. No fucking respectable clubkid would ever go out to this without looking their best.

All of us had our triangular red and purple VIP passes and yellow Pit passes on our wrists.

The closer we got to the venue, the more hyped everyone became. Rob Zombie was rocking “Dragula” on the car stereo as we drove past the parking attendants to the main entrance. The grassy parking lots were jammed with cars. Seeing just how huge the show was, made all of us more thrilled than ever.

The forecast called for rain later, but upon our arrival, you couldn't ask for a better evening. Warm summer nights in midwestern woods were relaxing and comforting like a grandmothers kitchen. Soft breezes. Shining stars. Idyllic. Heavenly.

As Elric drove Our black Bugatti Royale Berline de Voyager up to the main entrance, the energy from the crowd charged the air. Even though We couldn't see anyone, as We drew closer to the venue, We could feel the change on the wind. We pulled around to the private parking reserved for the finer members of society and walked right in. We had arrived right on time. Living Color had just finished their set. The next set changeover for Nine Inch Nails was just starting.

The whole night was a surreal paradise.

“Hotride” by Prodigy echoed throughout the dark woods as the roadies changed the set.

Blossom was an outdoor amphitheater, built into a rolling hillside, buried deep in the woods. The massive open air pavilion, shaped like a giant triangular monolith, held 6,000 people while the sprawling lawn angled down towards the stage with another 12,000 souls.

The diversity of the musical lineup drew an equal diversity in the crowd. Hippie dudes mingled with gangbanger thugs. Hardcore skyhigh mohawks stood shoulder-to-shoulder with jocks and fluff chicks. Elegant little goth girls wandered around with skinheads in suspenders. Everyone older than 25 was outnumbered and the punkrock pierced and tattooed freaks far outgunned the mundanes.

- ye shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor print any marks upon you -

Local music critic Jane Scott was in the audience. She was quite well-respected in the clubscene, and everyone knew her. You could always spot the trendy fucking losers at a show when they wondered “who the old lady was” or presumed she was a chaperoning grandmother.

An exceptionally drunken punker was just in the process of being thrown out as we entered. He was not-very-wisely mocking a group of police who were just trying to get him to leave peacefully.

Elric would want to spend most of His time in the anarchy of The Pit, but He was the One to make sure We brought blankets for Connor and Megan to sit on the lawn. He argued the lawn was a more impressive vantage point anyway.

Was He ever right.

I loved that He took the time to think of Connor and Megan like that too. Made Me all the more proud to be with Him.

He was a selfish little Boy, but He was a better Father than He expected.

“This is so cool!” Megan said, as I laid out the blanket for her under a tree at the edge of the lawn.

“Yeah, this is awesome!” Connor agreed.

Jacqueline tittered.

Allyson boosted Connor up on Her shoulders. “Come on, kid! Let's go down front with your Daddy.”

All three of them started down the lawn. Elric stopped.

He turned back to look at Me.

Slowly, He stepped back up the hill. His arms wrapped My waist and We kissed. Long. Slow. Deep. He bit His cheek and the sweet flavor of His blood tickled My tongue. “Love You, My Queen.”

“Love You, My King.” I said.

With that, He ran off to catch up with Allyson and Connor, now halfway down the hill.

Prodigy changed into “Stained” by Android Lust.

A thin gothgirl and her boyfriend started dancing on the lawn nearby.

The smell of weed and summer rain lingered in the air.

Over the heads of everyone on the lawn, fireflies sparked. A glittering accompaniment to the stars.

Awaiting the arrival of Nine Inch Nails, the crowd grew restless.

The soundsystem went from Prodigy into “Dead Heaven” by Gary Numan as people waited.

“I'm going to walk around.” Jacqueline announced, Her eyes aglow with excitement.

“Okay. Meet You back here later.” I said.

That left Me alone with Megan.

Megan grabbed My hand. “Thank You.”

“For what?”

Her stare said it should be obvious. “For bringing me, of course!”

I kissed her forehead. “You're family now, Megan. Of course We brought You.”

A group of girls in wild metal Rene Cigler outfits walked past us. They looked like they had been sculpted from a carcrash, but were all elegant chrome.

“Can I ask You something?” Megan said. “Why us?”

I didn't understand. “Meaning?”

“Why did You pick us? Connor and me?”

“You want the truth?”

Megan nodded.

I smiled. I started thinking about the lies of Elric and His origins. Even though Connor and Megan were not vampir, I couldn't help but be honest with her, for they were not Pawns either. “There's no reason whatsoever. You were random chance.”

“Really?”

“Really. I hadn't even planned it when I took Elric into that parking lot. But when I saw You laying so peaceful on His chest, naked in the snow, I knew.” I fingered her chin gently.

Megan smiled at the memory.

She was never a dark person. Never did she imagine she'd lose her virginity to some evil vampire Lord. She certainly never would have thought she'd be so grateful to be indoctrinated into a coven of immortals.

Sometimes she felt bad that her parents were always so angry with her.

They didn't like her staying out late.

The fights. The arguments. The threats. The grounding.

Then Elric or I would come along and the glamour of shadow tylwyth teg would surround them and her parents would forget everything.

Megan was different though.

She may not have thought she had a darkside, but I saw it in her right away. She loved Elric more than she'd admit.

“Most mortal women are quivering wrecks after being bled. When I saw a little girl react like you did, I knew you were something special.”

“Well, I'd never done it before.” Megan explained, kind of blushing. Although she wasn't many years younger than Me, she was still childlike and innocent in a way that made her terribly endearing and Our corruption wonderfully vile. “To have Him do that to me was just... indescribable. I have to admit I - I get a little jealous of You sometimes. I think I have an Eddieplus complex.” Megan giggled.

I smiled and corrected. “Oedipus.”

Megan laughed amiably, “Oh! Yeah. That!”

“And it's Electra.”

Megan cocked her head. “Huh?”

“Electra. An Electra complex is a girl who wants to sleep with her dad. An Oedipus complex is a boy who wants to sleep with his mom. So, for you, it would be - ”

“- Oh, I get it! Right. Electra complex.”

I was so happy to be correcting what someone else was saying, instead of Elric correcting Me. I fell in love with My daughter a little more in that moment.

“Hey, I love Your boots!” An older looking guy said to Me as he walked past. “Where did You get those?”

“Chain Link. Of course.”

He nodded. “Lakewood?”

“University Circle.” I said.

“Nice. I'll have to get some for my girlfriend. Those are killer.”

“Thank you.”

“Later.” He walked away.

“Later.”

“You know, we should get closer for the band.” I said.

“I don't mind being up here.” Megan said. “You can go down there with Elric if You want. I'll be fine.”

I knew she would be alright alone.

We would sense if she was in trouble.

“Okay.” I kissed her cheek and walked back up the hill. The lawn was filled with so many thousands of people and blankets, it was far easier to walk to the pathway north and circle around the edge of the grass instead.

Guys kept on checking Me out under the sickly yellow haze of the giant stadiumlights.

As I reached the rear of the pavilion, I made My way back into the center of the venue. The crowd was massive. Every step was wading through endless droves of people.

A hippie girl in a flowery summerdress was standing next to Me.

As she was laughing, her Viking-like 6' 3” boyfriend playfully flipped her over his shoulder. Next thing I knew, she was dangling upside down, her dress slid up into her armpits, and fuzzy hippie chick pussy was a foot from My head.

Wow. Oooookay! Free show! Didn't need to see that!

Time to keep walking.

Standing in the middle by the pavilion, the music stopped.

The houselights went down.

Lighter flames lit the dark as a roar started from the crowd.

The opening notes of “Head Like A Hole” ticked across the air like locust chatter and began to shatter the ocean howl of the audience.

Without warning, I heard a wave of screams come from the lawn like the wail of 12,000 enraged demons.

Turning around, everyone on the entire lawn had begun to surge down the hill, running at full speed, charging towards the pavilion. I'd never seen anything like it. A sea of humanity stampeding towards the stage.

Chaos.

Anarchy.

Entropy.

And there I was, dead center in the bedlam. There was nowhere to escape. The entire audience had gone ballistic.

Security guards, blocking the pavilion to patrons without tickets, simply deserted their posts and scattered. Powerless to suppress the sequacious mob.

- bow down before the one you serve -

- you're going to get what you deserve -

I stood there laughing at the beauty of the mayhem.

It was glorious.

Ringside seats to the end of the world.

Joining the throes, I shoved and screamed and, stronger than any mortal, easily knocked aside 4 people at a time.

- head like a hole -

- black as your soul -

- I'd rather die than give you control -

We stormed the aisles of the pavilion. Feet raced. Row after row we charged. Any caught up in the flood were forced to join in, lest they be trampled. Surging down the aisles like a tidalwave, we flowed as the band had gone right into “Terrible Lie” and I found Myself splashing deep in the saltant sea of The Pit.

Sweat.

Heat.

The stifling humidity of The Pit, especially one as gargantuan as this one became, is something that must be experienced. Never can it be imagined or explained. You just had to be there.

Bass throbbed as strobes split the darkness.

Trent was a silhouette on the stage, screaming into the microphone.

- you made me throw it all away -

- my morals left to decay -

Elric was in here somewhere. So was Allyson. There was no hope of spotting them as everyone slammed and leapt and packed into each other. Arms and legs flailed on all sides and overhead, as kids stagedove along the length of the entire stage. Security threw people back into the fray as they got too close to the barricades.

A kid with a mohawk stagedove and crowdsurfed right over My head. How any mortal could endure the heat in that leather jacket, I couldn't imagine.

By the time “Sin” had begun, My exorbitant Versace dress was in shreds. Between spiked bracelets and belts, snags on suspenders and leather jacket chains, it didn't last long. Stripped down to My bra, I took shards of the tattered dress and tied the remains around My waist in a makeshift skirt.

When I turned around, looking up at the sea of faces, the entire theatre looked like rabid animals. Beasts in a frenzy writhing, like some sort of psychedelic rock cartoon from the 1970's. Sweat matted hair. Grimaces of rage. Running makeup. No one even looked human anymore.

The crowd shouted the lyrics back to Trent. Everyone knew every word of every song. This wasn't a concert. This was a mass. A ritual cabal, for the gods of pandemonium and hate. Of all the shows I had seen, of all My endless nights of dancing and clubbing, this was unique.

The raw power.

The sheer energy.

The last concert of the lost generation.

When the bass pounds so loud, your heartbeat changes to match the music. Your very blood pulsates with the power of the sound.

As if every breath of every person were electrifying the air. The surge of that current, mixed and churned on the wind, only to be drawn in and expelled by everyone around them. Endless was the flow of malice and fury. Every passion, embodied in the violent heartbreak of youth, was encapsulated in the dark of those woods.

As Nine Inch Nails transitioned from “The Only Time” into “Get Down, Make Love” I had begun to make My way out of The Pit.

Dave Navarro from Jane's Addiction came out on stage to play along and the crowd went into overdrive again. After diving into the fray, Trent lost his shirt and guitarist Richard Patrick emerged in nothing but his underwear.

This was the greatest show I'd ever seen, and I'd just arrived!

Some clueless frat boy tried to dance with Me as I neared an aisle.

Covered in other peoples sweat and barely dressed, I humored him.

I let him bump and grind against My ass.

I let his buddies cheer him on.

And as I spun around to walk away, I elbowed his face so hard, he flew back over three rows of theatre seats.

Sorry, boys. Not tonight.

Or ever.

- I can feel when you break me -

The whole walk back, I was letting the power wash over Me. I had returned near the side of the pavilion as Nine Inch Nails finished their set.

The energy of the crowd had changed dramatically. Within the span of a 45 minute set, Our hometown band had just decimated every act which had played prior.

Clapping and cheering were deafening.

Lighters were shining across the lawn like stardust, accompanied by the fireflies which twirled so many pinpoints of light into skies above.

For all the thousands who had stormed the pavilion, thousands still remained sitting in the grass.

As Nine Inch Nails departed the stage, the sound of “Bullet With Butterfly Wings” by Smashing Pumpkins came across the soundysytem as roadies prepared the changeover from Nine Inch Nails to Siouxsie & The Banshees.

Elric approached from the distance.

I saw Him from atop the southern path, “Elric!”

Looking up, He was staring as if He didn't recognize Me. Then I remembered the dress. No doubt My makeup had run to shit too. I was looking a lot different than when We arrived.

He chuckled, “That's a lovely dress You're almost wearing.”

I laughed. “Nice.”

“Gene Kelly.”

“Huh?”

“It's a line from a Gene Kelly movie.” He waved off the comment as inconsequential. “What the hell happened to You?” He stared My body down.

“Pit.” I shrugged.

He laughed, wiping sweaty hair from His face.

We didn't sweat, but were drenched from others.

Most mortal boyfriends would freak the fuck out if their girlfriend showed up half-naked after going into a Pit, worried that she was accosted in some way. Since Elric knew I could rip the throats out of ten guys at once, He didn't have such insecurities.

“You're soaked.” I observed.

“I know. Gross. It's like pee pee oil.”

I started laughing. “Nice. It's always about Your dick, isn't it?”

Elric looked shocked. “What?! My dick!? What the hell are You talking about? I didn't say anything about My dick. What does sweat have to do with My dick?”

I laughed harder. “You said pee pee.”

“Pee pee? No, I didn't.” It sounded funny to hear Him say pee pee.

“Yeah, You said pee pee oil.”

Now Elric started laughing. “Pee pee oil? What the fuck is pee pee oil? That doesn't even make any sense. No. Babyoil. I said babyoil. Being all sweaty is slimy like babyoil. Not pee pee oil. Freak. I said babyoil. ”

“You did?” Now I laughed even harder.

He rolled His eyes at Me.

“Am I going to have to stop talking to You out loud?” He thought.

I was doubled-over laughing.

“Dork.” He giggled.

In another minute or two, We finally regained Our composure.

We started walking back up the hill together.

“Pee pee oil? Weirdo.”

“That's what I thought You said! I'm sorry.” I giggled.

Seeing the muddied condition of the lawn, Elric observed with a chuckle, “Man, I'd hate to be a Moody Blues fan.”

“Huh? What's wrong with The Moody Blues?”

“Oh, nothing.” He clarified, “They have a concert here tomorrow.”

“Ohhh.” I laughed, understanding.

“Megan?” He asked.

“I left her up on the blanket.”

“Cool.” He said. “Let's get her and Connor something.”

He put His arm around Me, kissed Me, and We rounded the top of the hill. More than music, the show was designed to expose a lot of social groups. We passed booths for the League Of Women Voters, and the United States Navy, and Rock the Vote, and Greenpeace and PETA on Our way to one of the overpriced snack carts.

As We approached the cart and He headed around the line, I stopped Him. “Wait. Let's wait in line.”

“Wait in line?” He asked incredulously.

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “I'm enjoying this. I just want to... I dunno. I want to be part of it for awhile.”

Elric frowned in understanding. “Okay. No problem. We wait in line.”

“That's going to drive You fucking crazy, isn't it?”

“No.” He laughed.

“Yes it is. Don't lie to Momma.”

“Hey, I love the company. I have no complaints.”

He was lying. The idea of standing around like a mortal was not His style. Far easier to walk to the front of the line and make the humans think We had been there all along. But, I didn't want to use such glamour. I was enjoying the atmosphere and wanted to get lost in it for awhile. While We waited, Smashing Pumpkins mixed into “Dance In The Dark” by Lady Gaga.

Elric ordered hot dogs and shaved ice for Connor and Megan.

For just a moment, just that brief instant, I could pretend We were human again. We were normal friends. Family.

No magic. No enchantments. No blood.

Just a pair of teenage kids ordering junkfood at a concert.

The fantasy couldn't last more than a minute or two, but I savored it for all it was worth.

Don't misunderstand Me.

I wouldn't go back. I loathe the idea of being mortal.

I love being a living Goddess.

Have you ever walked into the bathroom and missed what it felt like to be a little child who needed a stepstool to reach the sink? When you were that little child, you couldn't wait to grow up and be tall enough to reach it on your own. You would never go back to that life, but you can still find yourself feeling nostalgic for something that wasn't so great at the time.

Once more, the houselights dimmed, and the music ceased, and the crowd roared as Siouxsie Sioux came on stage.

As Elric and I walked back to the blanket where I left Megan, Siouxsie & The Banshees opened with “Little Sister”.

Understandable opening. After the frenzy of Nine Inch Nails, it was prudent to bring it down a notch.

Elric groaned. “Augh! See? If You had let Me cut in line, I'd have had time to be back in the Pit for Siouxsie!”

“I thought You weren't complaining.”

“I wasn't. Now I am.”

“Jackass.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance. “Uh, oh.”

Megan rushed over when she saw Us approaching.

“Oh my gosh! Did You see that? Did You see what happened when Nine Inch Nails came on? Holy shit! Is that for Me?” She spotted the food.

“And Connor.” Elric clarified.

Megan thanked Him and took her helping.

“I wanna get up by the stage for Siouxsie though!” Megan jumped in place, antsy.

“You're not obligated to eat it.” Elric explained.

“I'll make it quick.”

She ate Connor's too. Brat.

∞ ∞ ∞

By the time Megan, Elric and I got back down to the pavilion, Siouxsie had played “Staring Back” and “Lullaby” and was just heading into “Peek-A-Boo” which drove the crowd wild again.

As lights splashed over the audience in a kaleidoscope of colors, Siouxsie danced like a delightful marionette.

By this time, security had given up on checking for people who were permitted in the pavilion or not. The show had become a free-for-all general admission with people wandering about as they pleased.

Siouxsie added a serenity to the concert. At least, serenity compared to the chaotic fervor of the Nine Inch Nails set.

Megan dragged Elric towards The Pit. I stayed at the edge and danced in the aisle. My lovely Beau and daughter pogoed their way into the masses, Megan laughing and smiling the whole time.

“Hel!” I suddenly heard a voice call from behind Me. No mortal could have heard it over the roar of the music. Connor ran towards Me and hugged Me.

Allyson was standing a few feet away and motioned that She was headed back up by the lawn. I nodded.

When “Kiss Them For Me” started, I motioned to Connor and pointed at Elric and Megan deep in The Pit. Connor couldn't see them. There were too many people and Elric and Megan were lost in the droves. I had kept My eyes on them the whole time.

“What!?” He asked.

“Let's go over to your Daddy.” I said.

His eyes widened at the notion of entering the chaos of The Pit and he nodded vigorously.

Parting the ocean of bodies, I reached Elric.

- now You're the prettiest by far -

He smiled and started dancing close with Me. Our bodies covered in tropical sweat of a thousand people. His shirt was wet against My naked skin. Running His fingers into My hair, We kissed and kissed. There was something so indescribably erotic about feeling Him so wet and hard against Me, as We were packed in so tight among that endless deluge of people. His hands slick on My skin. Sliding under My bra. Slimy and moist, He slid it down and took My nipple in His mouth. Just for a second. Then quickly slid the bra back into place and bit My neck. Nibbling. Hot. Strong. Tasting salty and steam in the swamp dank air.

“Bad boy.” I mouthed.

The lights on Siouxsie were blinding and the flashes of colors across the crowd were mesmerizing. Budgie tumbled the drums gently. Siouxsie stood like an empress.

Cheers echoed like rainstorms as the band began “The Last Beat Of My Heart” and Siouxsie hushed the crowd quiet. Bringing them down again. Soaring and diving upon the rollercoaster day of emotion in music. Storm to serenity. War to peace. Sex to romance.

We had felt it all.

The air was spiced with a shower of emotions.

Years later, Megan would talk about what it meant to her.

She felt that she had truly witnessed the defining moment of the Last Generation. We were the end, she contested.

Nearly every decade of the 20th century developed and defined a new genre of pop music and those creations ceased in the decades after the Lollipoploser concert.

The 1920's saw flappers and ragtime.

The 1930's brought jazz and blues.

The 1940's held swing kids and big band music.

The 1950's created greasers and rock and roll.

The 1960's made hippies and boyband pop and heavy metal.

The 1970's started disco and punkrock.

The 1980's was rap and new wave and goths.

The 1990's originated industrial and techno.

Then everything stopped.

Nothing new was born after that.

No new cultural trends. No new music. No new fashions for a genre.

After that, every new band was simply a derivative of something which had come before. Music ceased to be innovative. Music was no longer being groundbreaking. Nothing was invented anymore. The birth of new genres ended.

Emo was just goths with no fashion sense listening to shoegazers.

Dubstep was techno for hipster douchebags too high on drugs to realize the music they were listening to was actually 20 years old.

We in attendance at that show were celebrating the last creation.

This was where all originality in musical culture would die.

That's what Megan thought anyway.

She was right.

∞ ∞ ∞

The crowd cheered an encore when Siouxsie finished. She played two.

She had been glorious and brilliant as always.

The clapping went on for ages after the lights dimmed.

There was one more act left. The headliners.

When the lights came back up, so the roadies could start on the final changeover, the soundsystem flowed “Imagination” by Clan Of Xymox.

As people quickly headed to restrooms and the last runs on the concession stands, Elric, Megan, Connor and I headed up towards the lawn.

“You having fun?” Elric asked Connor.

“This is awesome!” He replied.

Connor still hadn't taken to the music scene the way Megan had been so easily indoctrinated. He was still too young to really appreciate it. Nevertheless, the concert atmosphere itself was a new thrill for him.

Making our way to the top of the hill, we passed an arguing teenage couple. The girl was crying, calling the boy an asshole and demanding he leave her alone.

Further up the hill, some artfag boys were holding hands while their friend looked incredibly stoned on something that was tripping his balls off. “No, no, dude. I'd never wish for a ten-inch penis.” He announced. “With my luck, I'd wake up with two five-inch ones.”

When we reached the blanket, Allyson and Jacqueline were there.

I started dancing with Connor.

- imagination takes the shadows away -

Elric, Megan, Allyson and Jacqueline joined in. We twirled and spun as Clan of Xymox lilted and sighed with their heavenly chords. Around us, others on the lawn danced too. Some sat talking. Groups strolled past. Pixie dream girls skipped, half dancing as they walked. All the while, the night was full of laughter and tears and fights and flirting and the scent of pot and carnival food.

Elric looked at Me and mouthed the lyrics, “I have seen Your eyes in purple. I have seen your eyes in blue.”

- all the flowers, tears and faces -

- all the days I spent with you -

The moment was endless. The moment was eternal. All We were, became encapsulated in that time. Looking at the boys and girls, staring into Elric's eyes, it hit Me - those were the happiest days of My life. This was a night I would never forget. I would carry this night with Me for centuries.

This is what I needed.

I needed this to heal.

I needed this dark forest over which Elric was My Prince.

He saved Me.

He kept Me alive.

This was His gift to Me.

Is it any wonder I worshiped Him so?

Slow violin melancholy faded. The dulcet softness of the Anka Wolbert vocals cascaded into Book Of Love with “Pretty Boys And Pretty Girls” and our euphoria continued with Susan Ottaviano bliss.

We danced and played and as I looked across the crowds, I became overwhelmed again with knowing the night would never end. This was Our time. We were immortal. We would never die. We were going to be young forever.

There's an utter ecstasy in certain songs which elevates our emotions into a euphoria that can't be reached by any other means. We become truly transcendent. Seeing Elric and those I loved that night, such pretty boys and pretty girls, I was soaring.

Glorious tubular bells rang and seemed to hold Elric in the air.

Megan spun, her eyes closed, lost in that vertigo of dance with a smile beaming across her face. How I envied her. When she opened her eyes, I could see that look in them - the boundless intoxication of dance, that rush of truly feeling it for the first time.

- spreading joy to the world -

- to every boy and every girl -

As the glorious Book Of Love mixed into “The Last Day Of Summer” by The Cure, all remained lost in the daze.

Elric moved over to Me and kept dancing.

The others sat back down.

“I'm hungry.” Connor commented.

Elric shot Megan a dirty look.

She pouted playfully.

“Let's go get you something. They have Butthole Burgers.” Allyson said.

Connor made a face. “Ew! Butthole!? I don't want to eat buttholes! That's gross!”

“Named after the band. Butthole Surfers played. They're not made from buttholes.”

“Better not be!” Connor said.

He and Allyson left towards the far off concession stand.

Elric wrapped Me in His arms and We swayed to the song. More lighters went up on the lawn. You would think The Cure was actually playing live. People swirled with the watery Cure guitars and Elric moved with Me like windblown leaves.

He gave Me that look. The one where I was made to feel like the only girl on earth.

“You are the most beautiful girl to ever live, in all the history of the world.”

I kissed Him slow.

I gently pulled Him to the ground. Still moving. Still twirling. Rolling across the blanket.

Sitting on the lawn and leaning against the tree, Elric sat between My legs. Our fingers intertwined. Our bodies rocking gentle with the music. As He sat between My legs, Megan scooted over and sat between His.

Jacqueline looked up. “Beautiful night.”

She laid down and shut her eyes.

- the last day of summer never felt so old -

As the pensive and wistful of The Cure washed over everyone, Elric leaned down towards Megan's neck. “I'm hungry too.”

He bit her slowly. Gently. She squealed with pain and moaned. Her hips raised and dropped like she was fucking.

Turning towards Me, I kissed Him and tasted her sweet blood in His mouth. He offered His neck to Me and I drank from His throat in turn. He moaned and writhed the same way Megan had a moment ago.

The thousands of mortals around Us never noticed a thing.

To them, it just looked like three teenagers making out.

- it used to be so easy, I never even tried -

Music and lust and the sorrow of summer's end swirled about the night. No matter how many other bands came and went, no matter how amazing this concert was proving to be, there was something about The Cure which always touched a part of Me that no other music really did.

Kissing My beautiful Elric, I got up and started to walk away.

Stopping, I looked back.

He winked at Me. Blowing Him a kiss, I went back toward the pavilion. I wanted to be sure I was up close when Jane's Addiction came on.

The Cure stopped and the spell of dreamy was broken.

The nightmare was soon to begin.

∞ ∞ ∞

Passing a group of gutterpunks, The Cure was replaced by “Turnaround” from Curve. I winked at one of the boys who couldn't take his eyes off Me. Behind Me, I heard one of the gutterpunk chicks in a Horrorpops Hell Yeah shirt smack her boyfriend. “The fuck you think you're looking at?”

- I can hear her in the background but She's a witch -

“What?” He squealed. “I wasn't checking her out.”

“Yeah, keep walking bitch!” The girl said to Me.

I stopped.

I turned around. I didn't say a word. Just stared her down.

“Baby, sit down.” Her boyfriend said to her.

“Yeah, bitch. You keep walking. I'll fuck you up, little - ”

Before she could finish her sentence, I moved the ten feet between us, got behind her, and kicked in the back of her knee, dropping her instantly.

- fire, fire burning bright -

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I yanked her head back and growled in her ear, “I'm having fun tonight. Do not waste My time with your shit. You understand?”

Hissing with pain, she instantly relented. “Yes. Yes. I - I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

Letting her go, I reappeared right back where I had first faced her.

She and her boyfriend were too stunned and confused by what just happened to say anything. They just stared at Me, baffled by what they had seen. The look on his face said it all - How the fuck did she move that fast?

The gutterpunk bitch didn't start shit with anyone else that night.

- while the wicked speak -

- the devil's nowhere, nowhere, nowhere -

∞ ∞ ∞

When I got to the edge of The Pit, it began.

People sometimes talk about certain concerts being otherworldly and unparalleled religious experiences. That sounds like an exaggerated joke until witnessing such an event.

This was beyond that.

This would go far beyond a religious experience.

This would be a night when vampire Gods would set the world ablaze.

The music stopped.

Dead silence.

The venue went black.

The crowd went ballistic.

This was what everyone had been waiting for since that afternoon.

This was what everyone had been awaiting for months.

The culmination of hours of sun and heat and music and drama and it all began with shadowy little silhouettes of Jane's Addiction coming on stage. One of the greatest bands of all time, opening one of the greatest concerts of all time, with one of the greatest songs of all time.

And I was there.

Lone sprinkle of guitar chords.

The gentle opening acoustic whispers of “Ocean Size”.

The cheers grew louder.

- THREE, FOUR! -

The strobes blasted the crowd like a nuclear bomb had just gone off in the pavilion. Drums and that single electric guitar chord pounded into Your very atoms like five orgasms at once. I nearly fucking creamed Myself.

The coiled energy of the crowd exploded like nothing else before.

Even the near riot of Nine Inch Nails set didn't compare.

The darkness itself seemed to swell and breathe with the music.

Flailing My body into The Pit was drowning in the hurricane.

- wish I was ocean size -

- they can not move you, man, no one tries -

People sang along and Perry howled and jumped and danced like an emaciated wolf, set free from captivity and ravenous.

Every pore was alive.

The pulse of so many thousands of hearts surged in My ears as loud as the music. I couldn't think anymore. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. I had become the music itself. I was sound and light. Floating incorporeal on heavenwine drunkenness. Every second was like being trapped in a dream you keep forgetting.

There was just music and heat and exhaustion and darkness and fire.

Some fans would say Jane's Addiction was god.

That's ridiculous.

God may be impressive, but he's no Jane's Addiction.

Forty years of rock and roll bands creating music with bass, guitar, drums and vocals. Three instruments. One singer. Yet somehow, Jane's managed to use those same instruments to make music that was unlike anything which came before them.

That gorgeous harmony they possessed was unparalleled. Perry's voice would howl like Dave's guitar. The guitar would roll into the beat of Stephen's drums. Eric would pick up the rhythm of the drums in his bass. The mix of sound was flawless. Every note rolled and rose and fell in perfect rapport. Each instrument complimented the other, uplifted the other, and all climbed and plummeted in impeccable synchronicity.

Other bands had musicians who masterfully played music together.

Jane's Addiction was the only band to create a singular vision of sound.

There was nothing else like them.

Ever.

As the music faded and the band segued into the next song, the crowd cheered and roared.

Upon the stage, out rose a giant prop imitating the cover of the Nothing's Shocking album featuring two sultry women dancing seductively in gray bodystockings.

Perry teased the crowd that the dancers were transsexuals, even though they clearly weren't.

They flanked Perry as the band moved into “Whores”.

Perry announced, “This ain't Woodstock, baby. We left that shit in the dirt!”

No doubt.

Deep basslines began the song and Perry wailed.

- way down low where the streets are bigger -

- I find my fun with the freaks and the niggers -

The Pit jumped in serried rhythm. Just like the harmony of the music, everything looked choreographed in a surreal pantomime.

I laughed in pure bliss and barely noticed I was doing it.

Overcome by the utter joy of what I was seeing. Just being there. Being part of this event. Witnessing the experience. The sound. The lights. The power. The vibe of the crowd. The collective bond of the shared moment. This was a show that no one in attendance would ever forget. Well, except for the ones who were stoned out of their fucking minds.

I decided to move back to the top of the pavilion, away from The Pit.

This wasn't a normal concert, where I wanted to be up close to the stage. The audience itself embodied the performance and the energy of the experience, just as much as the band. Being among them, relishing the fervor of their ecstasy, this was as thrilling as the music.

Crowds cheered. The clapping and howling was so loud it sounded like a thunderstorm.

More thunder crackled across the sky too. Much closer this time.

When the hollow wail and drumming of “Chip Away” screeched like the gallop of nightmare hooves out of the pavilion, the night grew visibly darker. Tribal drums pulsated. Heartbeats changed in time. Sweating brows seemed to develop gnostic swirls in the skin itself.

Humanity was born in drumbeats.

No sound reaches deeper into the collective soul.

In the sinister night, drums and dance were the quintessence of man.

The revelry of a thousand ancient moons.

All pagan firedances and darkshroud sacrilege sacrifice.

Dismal conventicles of the gloaming hour.

Something in the human soul remembers that sound forever.

Suddenly, up on the lawn, a strange light caught the corner of My eye.

Squinting, I looked closer.

It couldn't be.

Could it?

- on this tree, among the blossoms -

As they danced on the lawn, people started lighting bonfires. First one. Then another. Small at first. You could barely see them. What began as fire no bigger than a stoveflame quickly spread. At first, sparks flickered as just odd little flashes of orange between the mass of people. But as the flames swelled larger and the incendiary heat forced people to back away, the fires began to throb and breath like live things. Next thing I knew, five of them were blazing along the hillside, lighting the nightglow shadows of hundreds of bodies.

And the drums beat.

And the dancers danced.

And the cinders glowed across the lawn like hellfire portals to Annwn.

- up from the catacombs I ran into the angel again -

All the while, people threw anything they could find into the fires. Blankets. Folding chairs. Clothing. Whatever they had. Feeding the ferocious flames higher. Cool verdigris blades of grass turned charred and black. Summoning insidious devils which crawled monstrous from the firepits as the burns scathed hotter.

As yellow flames blasted fifteen feet into the sky and stardust embers floated around totemic heavens, half-naked people danced encircling the infernos; their bodies lit with alternating orange and black silhouettes as fists pounded the air. The corroboree of madness.

“Wow.” I heard Myself whisper in wide eyed wonder.

As I returned to the top of the lawn, Elric smiled at Me with a perverse and mawkish grin. The wind smelled like blood and smoke. Like ancient lakewaters.

Discarnate, the embers shone brighter with each beat.

With each scream.

With the cheers, resounding like ocean waves.

Clapping of thousands, the sound of rain.

Crashing seas, battering breakwall stone.

As the dark tower rose, from perilous cliffs.

Elric took My hand and lead Me to the shadowslip of a daydream nightmare. The tide slammed behemoth stones. Gargantuan masses of rock, far below Us, shuddered at the base of the Stygian citadel.

Abandoned lighthouse beacon.

A behemoth spire towering over horrid crags of rock.

We languished imprisoned, high in the peak of primordial stone.

My love is imprisoned in the basement of rotting harlequins and crumbling everglade ramparts. Jarbound hearts buffed to a sheen like quilted arachnid hammocks. There am I bound, with His ivory parapets, to cascade bloodrose gales over the breach.

Grabbing My neck, He pinned Me against the wall.

Icy black granite shocked My bare back, still wet with sweat.

I hissed at the chill.

The impending storm began to rage. Thunderbolts bellowed. Lightning ripped the sky and froze the clouds into images of writhing demons and charnal lust.

Over My flesh I felt the snakes of madness.

The stables of anguish brayed with devilsteeds.

Ripping My bra to shreds with His free hand, Elric kissed Me hard. Roughly, the taunt fabric welted My skin and I winced. Grinding His cock against Me, I moaned.

My eyes fluttered and shot open as the rain began to tear into the windows of Our dark tower. He threw Me to the ground and I landed hard on the cold charcoal slate.

The chamber room was utterly black, but for the slivers of lighting through the windowslits. In a delirium of desire, I sometimes saw fire embers rip across His eyes.

Not waiting for Him to do it, I tore off the remains of My dress. My legs spread. Open for My Master.

Throwing Himself upon Me, I ripped at His shirt as His fangs plunged deep into My throat.

I screamed. The torture ran warm down My neck.

Bite of the frosted stone, an icepick through My skull.

Convulsing in torment and seduction, brutal cold skewered My spine.

Cloudfiend shapes continued to broil and churn with Hades raptures.

I needed Him on My tongue. To taste Him. Drink Him. Bury His cock far in My mouth. Grabbing Him hard, I flipped Him back and pinned Him beneath Me. Crawling down the length of His body, My cheek brushing His thigh. His cock harder than the midnight stone all around Us. Smooth flesh against My lips. My stomach fluttered in anticipation. Holding Him firm in My hand. Shoving Him deep inside, I sucked Him all the way to the back of My throat. I could already taste the iron of blood pouring into My stomach. Warm. Wet. Savoring every delicious thrust as He fucked My mouth. My fangs scraping the shaft, He would grunt like a fevered God.

My tongue ran down to His balls and licked while My hand stroked His shaft. Suddenly, a sharp pain across My thigh. Skin scraped along the rough hewn floor as He took His arm and spun My body around the rugged stone. As I continued to savor and suck His cock, His tongue found My clit and I moaned. Spreading My pussy wide, He buried His tongue far inside My cunt. My climax peaked in moments, My pussy already so wet from His hatefuck passion. Blood flowed thick as I came. Wave after wave shot plasma heat through Me. Uncontrollably, My fists pounded the rock until My knuckles became bloodied and bruised. He drank deep, His mouth devouring Me.

Every touch was ecstasy.

The brush of a fingertip.

His hair ticking over My labia.

I felt His cock growing in My mouth. As I sucked harder, His blood exploded into My throat. Spilling across My breasts. Down My stomach. Drinking every ounce, I felt His fierce heart. Heard His thoughts. Shivered His lust. Feared His desire. Trembled at His power. I needed more. I needed His blood everywhere. To drown in it. To bathe in it. To cum in it. To swim in it. To die in it.

- for the life of the flesh is in the blood; and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls -

Licking Him off My body, I reached down and clutched His neck with one hand as I spun around and drove His cock into My pussy with the other. Pivoting His weight atop Me, I dropped My thighs apart for Him.

Laid on My back, He growled as the iron of His dick pounded Me so hard, I could hear My bones crack upon the stone. He clutched one hand on My throat. The other squeezing My breast. His full bodyweight atop Me as He bucked His cock into My pussy with stallion ferocity. My ribs snapped. My throat choked of all air, I couldn't scream. Every pore aching as My body was brutalized under the power of His girth smothering Me. Forcing Me like a child to take every inch, bruising My blood drenched cunt. Blood was everywhere. The lightning flashed and in the brief strobe of light, I saw We were nothing but rain and gore.

Blood dripped off His face as He threw His head back.

My tongue lapped the air.

Blood and rain showered into My mouth.

I could no longer tell which blood was Mine and which was His.

Cochineal brandy stung My lips.

Fucking Me so hard, so furious, I could barely move with Him, I grabbed the back of His head and pulled Him down to Me. My fangs sliced hard into His neck. Again, His exquisite blood sent Me into a dreamwyvern flight, spinning to ethereal nothing. Squinting to phosphene lights. When the pain ripped through His body, He raped Me magnificently. His cock jammed into Me so violently, I felt My tailbone rip through My skin and scrape the stone. I moaned with pleasure, conjuring a sound that could not escape My lips. My orgasm came not in ripples, but in tidalwave horror. Washing through every venule of My body like molten steel. Crashing from the top of My skull, down through My chest, ravaging My pussy, searing My thighs, slamming into My feet, then firing back up My entire body again. Wave after wave.

Elric tensed with all the might of an avalanche. His muscles and power were unrelenting. I could feel His Own orgasm starting in the base of His spine. Building and swelling. Hot and scalding blood, deep in His balls, lanced far in the depths of My pussy. Cauterized by a thousand firepokers, the lavaflow heat was unbearable. I screamed at the euphoria and the sadism of His love. I cried at the rain. I cowered at the voracity. I succumbed to His will.

Gazing out the stormwindows which were My fortress of wanton desire, slowly the dreamspell faded.

Exhausted.

Spent.

His movement slowed.

My hips shuddered.

Gently fucking like soft teenagers.

From knee to hip ached My groin.

The blanket was moist with Our blood.

The bonfires still burned upon the lawn.

Connor was rubbing himself.

Megan pinched her breast through the fishnet and breathed heavy.

Our children had been watching Our seething rapture.

Elric smiled at Our little girl.

I smiled at Our little boy.

Hither come to Our lechery.

Elric and Megan bucked their nude hips together on the blanket while Connor watched. Taking him into Me, I opened his neck. Momma loves Her little boy. Megan cringed with high pitched squeals of pleasure and pain which echoed off the starlight as orgasms shocked through the little girl and blood gushed from her neck into His mouth. Whirling stargazing to all her daddyrape fantasies. Up and down the dancers chanted. Up and down their bodies writhed. Wildfires shrieked like tortured dolphins. Megan screamed. Connor wept. Teeth clenched.

Wailing reverberated.

Fire rose.

Drums soared.

Every mortal turned god that night.

Raven shadowfiends claimed every soul.

All returned to primal and tribal lifeblood.

The world was in flames.

That was the greatest concert I had ever seen.

In the decades to come, it would remain unsurpassed.

Forever.

Chapter Fifteen

Off to the rear of the venue, I wandered alone.

Not quite over yet, Jane's Addiction was on their second encore.

A few hundred people had begun to leave early, in an attempt to beat the traffic and the approaching rainstorm.

Jane's music echoed with the steeldrums of “Jane Says” as I moved among lighters and fireflies and bonfire light. From the distance, it was hard to distinguish one from another.

Up beyond the lawn seats, wading through the sea of freaks and punks and goths and fetishists and mohawks, I moved by the trees.

I have no idea how I missed it, but it wasn't until then, I noticed the second stage, just over a rise and a small hill, off in the corner of the woods. Other bands and smaller local acts had been playing there.

There was something different in that part of the trees.

Something strange and haunted.

As I moved closer, Jane's Addiction faded out and “Motive” by In The Nursery bubbled from the smaller stage. It fluttered with banners and circus tent streams. Aloft in the dark and lit by lanternflame, the carnival dust hazed grey across the night. Like an antique thing it stood amongst the trees - a theatre that seemed to have grown up from the spot for centuries. Like a stagecoach troupe of old, its welcome long worn.

Upon the stage were a ringed house, and screens of all shades false.

No band to play nor song to sing, a freakshow instead of unholy things.

Upon the wood of ancient wold, there sang puppets queer and cajoled.

Whilst jugglers juggled and fire curled, rusted swords then unfurled.

In throats plunged swallowed whole, shivering spines of mortal soul.

To the crowd there seemed to be, a magic dark and otherworldly.

Watching beneath moonlight din, phantom players shuffled in.

Masques and guise of olden sleep, where blacken waters flow in deep.

- the dead are dancing with the dead -

- the dust is whirling with the dust -

For a moment the spell was broken by a familiar face.

The dizzy of rhyming verse fell out of place.

My mind was gurgling. Confused. What was this glamour they spun?

In the crowd, I spotted Devin from Lioncourt.

“Hey!” He called out.

“Hey!” I smiled back and we hugged.

What just happened?

Talking helped Me regain My composure.

“How did we do?” He asked.

I had no idea what he was talking about. “Huh?”

“How was our set?”

Oh, crap. They had played and none of Us knew about it? The fliers had said local acts would be playing on the second stage. Lioncourt must have been one of them. I felt bad and didn't want him to realize We had missed their entire show.

So, I lied My ass off.

“Oh, are you kidding? You guys were fucking awesome!” I said.

Upon the stage, a heavily tattooed woman was twirling fire batons and eating the flames.

“Who is this?” I asked, jerking a thumb towards the lady.

“Oh, this is some sort of freakshow or sideshow act from Los Angeles. You know, like fireeaters and crazy stuff like that. One guy hammers spikes through his hand and shit.”

Ouch.

No big deal for Us, but how could mortals do that?

“Crazy.” I said.

The performance was unsettling. Far more than mere fireeaters. There was a supernatural vibe emanating from the stage. Frolicking nightmares, like the carnival act in the Primus “Mr. Krinkle” music video. A giant pigman playing standup bass. Trapeze contortionists fluttering above the stage in freakish makeup. But which were makeup and which were real faces? Men on fire walking serenely among the performers. Creepy mimes on stilts sauntered under the glitter of a discoball light. Many of the beings felt more faye than mortal. All the while, tumblers tumbling, spinners spinning, grotesque arabesques among harlequins grinning.

Elric and Jacqueline came through the crowd. Elric was having a wonderful time. Fun sparkled in His eyes like the firefly lights. Despite all manner of dark, to slumber in the arms of love and to awake in them, even a Creature as dread cruel as Elric sauntered with a happiness in His gait. Made Me so happy to see Him lit up like this. I feel like I'm in on some deep dark secret. Like I have this special insight into His true self. He is not all the hate and malice He makes the world think He is. There is a gentle side to Him that I adore.

“Don't let anyone else know that.” He thought, as He kissed My cheek.

“Where's Megan?” I asked.

“She and Connor are asleep on the blanket. Allyson is with them.”

I nodded.

“Devin! What's up?” Elric said, hugging him hello.

I quickly interrupted before Elric inadvertently fucked up My lie. “Oh, Devin was just asking if We caught the Lioncourt set and I told him that We loved it!”

Elric caught on right away. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Awesome show! So happy for you guys that you got to play here!”

Jacqueline and Devin had met a few months ago.

Elric reintroduced them to each other and the three of them started talking about the Nine Inch Nails set. They weren't the least bit interested in the sideshow. They hadn't even looked towards the stage.

My mind wandered.

There was something about the carnival performance that I couldn't stop watching. There was something I couldn't ignore. An irresistible pull to the freakish gambols and dazzling mirrorball stars which trickled over the faces of captivated mortals.

“Sideshow” by The Wake was stuck in My head as I watched the stage and became lost in the vertigo of their bizarre and hypnotic theatrics.

For a moment, it was as if...

No...

Wait...

The song was actually playing from the speakers.

That music wasn't just in My head.

Weird.

Was hard to tell where the tune was coming from.

Seemed to fade in and out of consciousness.

- a thousand veins all call Your name -

- a thousand lives and it feels the same -

The ringleader for the freakshow took to the stage. Beside him, a black cloth-covered box was wheeled out. About the size of a canopy bed, inside the box, some manner of beast wailed and shrieked in a voice that could make the hair stand on edge, even on the necks of the undead. As the creature howled, claws ripped at the fabric, but there was still no way to see inside.

Wearing a traditional tophat and a suit of fine heirloom brocade, the ringleader looked oddly familiar.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, thank you.” The ringleader spoke with a flourished bow. “Permit me to introduce myself. I am your host, Maestro Nudd. And now, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you freaks and punks and degenerate weirdos to the final and most unsettling of all our attractions here at Annwn's Obsidian Sideshow & Maelstrom Festival. Those of you with weak constitutions, I suggest you turn and look the other way before I unveil this cage and reveal the monster within. For the beast you are about to witness is so hideous, so horribly mangled and deformed, that her very origins defy that of all... human understanding.”

- You walk into the dead of night -

- another victim comes in sight -

Suddenly, I knew where I had seen this ringleader before. He had on a bowler hat the first time. No wonder the tophat looked familiar. “Hey, wait! That's the guy Camillia was talking to in Los Angeles.”

I tapped Elric on the shoulder.

“I know that guy. That's the guy Camillia was yelling at, when I first saw Her at that art museum in Hollywood.”

Elric and Jacqueline ceased Their conversation and turned around.

Jacqueline's face instantly turned graven. To this day, I don't have the words to describe the way She looked, as soon as She saw the ringleader on stage.

Elric reacted with a rage in His eyes which stopped time itself in fear.

A shadow of unbridled fury pulsed out of His aura in the blackest smoke of hate.

Jacqueline and Elric spoke at the exact same time.

“The Woodsman?” Jacqueline said.

Elric said only one word.

“Glenn.”

Jacqueline looked at Elric in shock.

Her jaw dropped.

Jacqueline's eyes narrowed to slits and She growled, “Camillia.”

In that instant it all became clear. Elric had been right all along. There was another terrible secret We did not yet know.

I never would have imagined it was something like this.

The Woodsman and Glenn were one in the same person.

And Camillia knew this.

Chapter Sixteen

Waves of malice burst forth from Elric.

Shockwaves of shadow and fog detonated. Invisible to mortal eyes, I had never seen Him do anything like that before. I didn't know such a power was even possible. Unintentionally, as the shockwaves battered into the bonfires upon the lawn, the flames suddenly burst one hundred feet into the sky. Splashing down like lava geysers, dancers around the infernos were left scorched and screaming. The music stopped as the gargantuan thunder blasted chaos across the panicking droves. Every speaker ripped itself apart and exploded. Every light in the pavilion shattered and the entire venue was thrown into darkness. Only the bonfire flames remained.

Under the snap of one last thunderstroke, the impending storm began. Torrential rain fluttered serein for a handful of seconds before the full deluge ripped from the damaged skies.

Elric leapt upon the stage fifty feet away, and in one effortless movement, grabbed Glenn by the chest, and slammed Him into the crowd.

People screamed. Elric had thrown His body so hard, The Woodsman impacted the grass in a crater three feet deep. The explosion of dirt knocked everyone nearby off their feet. One girl fell backward, her arm shattered.

The audience shrieked and as Elric jumped from the stage. His arm snagged the side of the covered box, tearing it off.

An ungodly howl escaped from the cage.

Elric turned back towards the sound.

Inside the cage was a freakish Creature. As soon as I saw Her, I knew She was One of Us. She was a vampire, but horribly disfigured. Mutilated. Tortured. Half of Her skull was missing, as was the entire side of Her face. Had She been human, She couldn't possibly be alive. She howled again.

Elric couldn't move.

As quickly as His face had turned to rage, His eyes filled with an anguish I didn't think was possible.

“Dini?” He whispered.

Glenn clamored to His feet, smirking, and ran off into the woods.

Elric didn't even notice.

Forgetting all about Glenn, Elric jumped back up to the stage, His hands tearing the giant padlock from the bars and setting his sister free.

He put His hand to Her mangled face, touching Her with a soft, ginger tenderness I never would have imagined He was capable of possessing.

My head was spinning.

Still in shock from everything I had just seen.

Furious and vengeful, I turned to the woods.

Glenn was getting away.

I would not allow that to happen.

∞ ∞ ∞

Sprinting into the woods, Glenn fled.

The shadows were Mine and the Unseelie host beckoned to My will.

I shot into the forest deep, the thickets of the wooded hills whipping over My flesh. Pallor of skin whitened to the snowy pelt of the wolf.

Knowing all The Woodsman had done, My claws sank deep into the earth, My blood coarsed hot, flowing quick as river torrents, as I ran faster and faster into the night. All around Me, the canopy of the trees watched. Hissed in the breeze. Pointed the way to My quarry. Leaves glistened with rainwater sheen.

Glenn had an ancient power and could bound as lightning from shade to shade. But these were not His woods anymore. The darkling imps and gremlins cruel, now obeyed My commands. With each step, He was delayed by scratches and bites from the faerie hordes.

Still, He moved faster than any human could dream.

Under dark of shrouded starlight, I found Him. Far at the end of a treacherous gully, He clamored over fallen logs and creekbed stones. Standing high above on the fern-covered ridge, the wolf bayed at the night.

Lightning strobed the rainsheets to diamond ice.

Branches snapped and earth chortled as I fired down the muddied hillside, bounding into the cold waters and shale of the stream below.

As the rainstorm raged, the creek began to flow deeper and deeper.

The Woodsman stopped atop an island of pebbles, turning to make His stand against Me.

His hair was unkempt, having lost His hat when Elric threw Him from the stage. His clothing tattered and dirty, He had a strange expression on His face. Neither fearful nor taunting, He appeared oddly invigorated.

My white wolf form towered over Him. My breath steaming on the chill of summernight fog rising off the creek.

Lashing out, My paw bashed Him into a mossy boulder.

His back cracked into the stone, taking the full brunt of the impact.

Falling to His feet, water splattered and He staggered upwards.

I took two steps closer. The cold spring torrents running over the fur of My paws.

Suddenly, He lashed at Me, claws and fangs bared.

Nearly slicing My nose, I jerked back.

He lunged again. With a flick of My neck and a twist of My head, His arm was locked in My jaw.

He squealed in pain as I lifted Him off the ground and hurled Him through the air into another log. His body thudded into the old treebark and splashed into the shallows.

Jumping in front of Him, I pined Him facedown underfoot as He attempted to spin back towards Me.

Holding Him there, I transformed back to human form once again. My naked forearms digging into His back, driving His face further into the mud.

My hate wanted to rip His spine from His back. Tear His heart from His chest. Crush it in My bare hands. Gouge His throat out with a rusted pipe. For all the pain He had given Elric. For all the suffering He conspired to wrought upon the DuBois family. For all this and more, I wanted this thing to hurt. To cry. To beg. To plea for mercy. Within the dark forest, I was the Countess of anguish, I was the Goddess incarnate, and all I desired was to make Him pay and suffer.

And suffer.

And suffer again.

Dragging Him to His knees, He looked at Me as My hand pinned Him to the log.

“I've heard of You.” He said askant. “You're My Great Granddaug - ”

I backhanded Him across the jaw.

He struggled to move, but couldn't.

I could see the shock in His eyes. He was a force to be feared. His strength and speed were unmatched. How could this little Girl bind Him so effortlessly?

Against the throne of Hel and Elric, none can stand.

Ours be the only dynasty everlasting.

We alone be the Baron and Baroness of the darklight.

The Child kills the Master.

This was not over.

This fight belonged to Elric.

I couldn't finish The Woodsman.

I would merely take Him back to the concert. Return Him to My Lord.

As I pulled Him to His feet, the storm surged harder.

All manner of the night grew blacker.

Thunder cracked the sky and echoed through the gully with a sound like the collapse of a hundred skyscrapers.

Do trees move to make the wind?

By His will, in those woods, they may.

In a lightning flash, at the end of the valley, there towered Elric.

My Lord and Master, monstrous in His countenance. His visage that of a daemonic fiend I had never before witnessed. Any soul on earth who hath ever uttered a prayer, any who have suffered and plead with their god for forgiveness or mercy, any who have wept and sworn to renounce their sins if only given one more chance, all such men would lose their faith had they stood there, in the presence of My Devil. For so long as the horror of Elric roamed the earth, surely there could be no king of heaven. Before Me, bathed in rain and the scent of blood, stood proof that the throne of god has forever been empty. Every prayer ever uttered has only fallen on the barren chambers of hereafter.

He descended upon Us as shadow and flame, massive wings unfurled.

Landing near, the earth shook as colossal claws bit into the creekbed.

As Elric stepped closer, His gaze never left Glenn.

“Go.” His voice commanded Me and reverberated off the gulley walls with bass nearly as deep and resounding as the thunder.

This valley come His abattoir.

He turned towards Me. “Find Jacqueline.”

He spoke not with seething rage, but with a serene calm. As with all Who stem from a blinding hate, unwavering strength never threatens nor bellows in fury. To ignore the lamentations of the enemy is the epitome of deepest wrath. Thus, even I had no words. I needed only obey. Tempests may slather the night, but when the seas are calm, the power of death is everlasting.

Letting go of Glenn, I bowed to Elric obediently. “Your will be done, My Master.”

- the Lord shall smite Thee with a consumption, and with a fever, and with an inflammation, and with an extreme burning, and with the sword, and with blasting, and with mildew; and they shall pursue Thee until Thou perish. The Lord shall smite Thee with madness, and blindness, and astonishment of heart: and Thou shalt grope at noonday, as the blind gropeth in darkness... and Thou shalt be only oppressed and spoiled evermore, and no man shall save Thee -

Shamus had indeed been right about Our power after all.

Again the nightwolf, running down the valley, I never looked back.

Such vengeance is pristine and never again shall fear have a name.

I know not what Elric did to Him.

Whatever it was, I have no doubt He did it slow.

Very, very, slow.

The Woodsman's horrible screaming echoed throughout the hills as the rains continued to pour.

Chapter Seventeen

Camillia DuBois stood at the end of a behemoth reflecting pool.

Surrounded by towering hedges and mighty marble statues, the waters of the pool shimmered in the rain. Camillia was drenched, Her clothes sticking to every inch of Her. I'd never seen Her allow Herself to appear so disheveled.

Stoic and unyielding, She seemed to be waiting.

She stood facing Me as I emerged from the greenwood.

“Camillia!” Jacqueline's voice echoed from across the water.

Camillia's back was to Jacqueline and I saw Camillia smirk. Without a word, and reacting as if I wasn't even there, Camillia turned to face Her Sister.

“You knew!” Jacqueline shrieked as She came closer. “I didn't put it all together until Hel said She recognized The Woodsman and Elric recognized Him as Glenn.”

Camillia still didn't say a word.

Jacqueline walked faster, fueled by rage. “You did this on purpose. You knew Glenn! Why did You do this!?”

Although enraged, Jacqueline was also fighting back tears.

Devastated by Camillia's betrayal, Jacqueline was ready to attack, yet She was enervated with pleading for understanding at the same time.

The look on Her face was that of a Woman crushed by a treachery She could hardly fathom.

I circled around to the side of the pond. My back brushing the hedgerows, I didn't say a word. The Sisters didn't even seem to notice I was there.

“Why?” Camillia repeated. “Why did I have The Woodsman attack Elric, his sister, and his girlfriend and leave him to die in Your backyard?”

The words hit Jacqueline in the gut with a sledgehammer.

The words She had already figured out, but couldn't stomach hearing.

Her jaw was trembling and Her whole body was shaking. Camillia remained calm and serene.

Clearly, Jacqueline wanted to lash out. To say something hurtful. But there were no words harsh enough. What could possibly give vengeance for the depths of such anguish?

Camillia continued to walk closer to Her Sister.

Camillia continued, “Why did I spend the last 200 years doing everything in My power to hurt You? Why have I constantly been secretly fucking up Your whole existence? Is that what You're asking?”

Jacqueline's eyes teared with blood.

“BECAUSE YOU KILLED MY MOTHER, YOU WHORE!” Camillia backhanded Jacqueline so hard, Her body flew into one of the stone caryatids surrounding the perimeter and shattered it.

Killed Her mother?

Jacqueline had claimed Camillia's mortal mother was killed by The Woodsman.

Later I would come to realize, Camillia had nothing to lose anymore.

This was Her final act of cruelty.

Jacqueline lay in the wet grass as Camillia loomed over Her.

Camillia's grimace was twisted and horrible. Every word She spoke was intended as a venomous knife, twisted slowly in Jacqueline's heart. “On the Winter Solstice in 1734, the night You were the first of Us to be Turned, I was ten years old. I was there, Jacqueline. I had awful dreams that night. When I snuck into my mother's bedchambers to sleep in her bed, You were already in the room. I was scared of You right away. I knew something was wrong. I knew You weren't my sister anymore. So, I hid behind a tapestry.” Camillia paused. Anger rippled across Her face like the rivulets of rainwater. Thunder roared overhead. Camillia howled, “You stole into my mother's bedchambers and drank every drop of her blood!”

Jacqueline was dazed, trying to get to Her feet.

Camillia struck Her again, sending Her splashing into the reflecting pool.

“You were delirious with the bloodlust of Your first victim and being Transformed. You never knew I was there.” Camillia spat the words in disgust.

“Camillia! I'm so sorry! I didn't know. I didn't know what I was doing! I didn't know you were in the room!” Jacqueline brushed Her wet hair from Her face.

Another family secret, kept for centuries.

Jacqueline had pinned the blame on The Woodsman all this time.

Camillia snarled. “Well, now You do know! Once The Woodsman came to Me and Turned Me twenty years later, I vowed to do everything in My power to take revenge upon You.” Camillia faked a snide and ridiculing smile, “So, I've been nice. I've been sweet. I've been kind.” Her tone dropped a cruel octave, “And I've done all I can to hurt You.”

“He destroyed our entire family!” Jacqueline shouted. “And You've been in league with Him this whole time? How could You? You had Him attack Elric!”

“Of course I did. When I saw You developing true feelings for that mortal pig, I had The Woodsman become the boyfriend of his sister. I knew if I hurt them, it would break Your heart. I knew if I made You Turn that little fool into One of Us, You'd never forgive Yourself.” Camillia mocked.

Jacqueline jumped at Her Sister and strangled Her. Jacqueline's pain and heartache and confusion had finally boiled into savagery.

Camillia may be powerful, but Jacqueline was vampir even longer.

Camillia's fist flew up into Jacqueline's jaw, the devastating blow knocking Her off Her feet.

Angrily, Jacqueline spat, “So why end it now? If You've enjoyed torturing Me so much, why tell Me all of this?”

“Because of a little shithead named Nix.”

“Nix?”

“The Woodsman was His Sire too. When Allyson tricked Us into destroying Nix, The Woodsman was furious. The Woodsman sent His pathetic messengers to let Me know He was ending Our little truce. The Woodsman knew how much I wanted to keep tormenting You. And He knew once You and Elric learned the truth, I would never be able to fuck with You again. This was all His way of getting back at Me.” Camillia said.

Spitefully, She added, “I knew Elric would destroy The Woodsman the second He found out. The fool has no idea how powerful Elric has become. Cocky bastard. If He is going to fuck up My Killing Game, I'd let Him show up here, just so Your Son can kill Him.”

All of it finally made sense to Me.

“That's why You went to Los Angeles!” I shouted. “You were never upset with Elric or Me. It was the concert flier! You saw Annwn's Maelstrom Festival would be coming here!”

Camillia couldn't issue a command to forbid The Woodsman from coming to the city without Elric knowing about it. That's why She went to Los Angeles. She had to try stopping Him before He arrived.

Now I see why She didn't come to the concert with us.

Elric was wrong. When He spoke of Gillian Hill making threats, He thought it was because of Jacqueline. But it was The Woodsman. Gillian Hill was telling Camillia that The Woodsman was angry with Her.

Despite having been silent this whole time, neither One of Them even acknowledged My presence.

Jacqueline nodded. She was talking out loud, but mostly to Herself. “The state of delirium Elric was in, I wasn't able to look into His mind to see who attacked Him. That was your doing. That's why I couldn't find Glenn. Because You didn't want Me knowing Glenn and The Woodsman were One in the same. You were concealing His presence. It was all You. It was always You. Everything was part of Your plan.”

“I could have still kept My secrets.” Camillia mocked. “I never needed to reveal anything to You. I could have let all of this eat away at You, never knowing or understanding My motives. But tonight I decided, I would rather see the pain You have on Your face right now, instead. I would rather You know the whole truth, so You can finally suffer with that. Besides, I can now tell You one... last... secret. My one last horrible sin. One other thing I did, just to break Your heart.”

Jacqueline stiffened.

“As You broke My heart and killed My mother...” Camillia paused.

Jacqueline became angrier with each passing second. Camillia spoke slow. Taunting. Easing out Her words just to twist the tension in Jacqueline.

“... I'm the One Who murdered our father. If it wasn't for that bastard killing the witch, none of this would have happened! Your dear daddy Artimus didn't die of a broken heart. He died by My hand.”

Camillia laughed, genuinely pleased with Herself.

Her laugh was light and free. There was nothing sinister about it. This was a Woman truly overjoyed by having caused so much suffering.

“No!” Jacqueline screamed and charged.

With that, Camillia grabbed Jacqueline and threw Her at another statue. This time, Jacqueline spun in midair and grabbed the wet stone, swinging Her body around the neck of the statue like a gymnast, flying back feet-first into Camillia's throat.

Camillia, stunned, struggled to stand. She clutched Her near-collapsed chest and choked, unable to speak.

“You forget one thing, Sister.” Jacqueline said with venom. “I am the firstborn DuBois.” Jacqueline threatened as the statuary came to life.

Camillia looked around fearfully.

“I commanded the shadows of Our Estate for decades before You called Yourself a Queen.” Jacqueline spoke with more resolve and conviction with each sentence.

“I am still the eldest Queen of this land! Bitch, You're still the half-blood little Princess!” Jacqueline turned to smoke, flying into Camillia and knocking Her back into the statues which grabbed Her.

Camillia screamed. A sound of both pain and hate.

A statue grabbed each limb as Camillia struggled to break free.

Their stone grip held Her immobile.

I had heard enough.

∞ ∞ ∞

Jacqueline called forth the shadows.

They did not appear.

Malice incarnate scurried with impish feet among the underbrush. Massive beasts hiding in the nightshade of a dozen trees never manifest. All the sidhe, merely watching.

Camillia, confused, awaited Her fate.

Jacqueline grew angrier. “Bring Her to Me!”

The statues did not obey.

The statues did not move.

Lightning flashed and torrents of rain continued to pour in a tsunami deluge. Boiling underfoot, ten thousand goblinshadow snakes coiled like oily seafoam beneath Me. I rose above the pool. I rose above the statues. My hands gestured to the Sisters and gargoyle behemoths trudged from the hedgepaths.

As the statues released Camillia, gargoyles fifteen feet tall grabbed Jacqueline and Camillia and slammed Their bodies into each Other.

Over and over.

And again.

Limbs snapped.

Skulls fractured.

Rain washed and mixed Their blood and water.

After They had been reduced to heaps of anguish, I addressed Them from high above My abyssal throne of roiling dark.

“The power which I have inherited makes Me the rightful Heir to The Unseelie Estate. You may call Yourselves Queens and Princesses, but I am the Empress! And for Your crimes, I hereby banish You Both from these lands forever. You are henceforth never permitted to return. The only reason I will not destroy You outright, is because You gave Me Elric. You are Both hereby disowned from the DuBois family and exiled from The Unseelie Estate for eternity.”

- if Ye will not yet for all this hearken unto Me, then I will punish You seven times more for Your sins. And I will break the pride of Your power; and I will make Your heaven as iron, and Your earth as brass; and Your strength shall be spent in vain -

Unable to fight back or argue through Their pain, the Sisters said nothing. They tried to speak, but everything came out as angered and tortured groans as the stone beasts dragged Them off into the woods. The monsters mercilessly hurled Their mangled bodies over the wall and into the overflowing Chagrin River, where They washed miles away, into the eerie lake.

Chapter Eighteen

Freakshow performers lined the beach, in the grey darkness that lingers just before dawn, like a natant shroud.

Out and down the long easternmost stone pier at Huntington Beach, they stood in regal attention. Witch hats held the vortex of nightterrors. Dwarfish clowns in jinglebell tassels and bearded ladies with parasols. Strongmen in lion loincloths and turbaned snakecharmers alike. Stilted men in coattails and tophats illuminated the procession, solemnly holding oil lanterns overhead like streetlamps.

All seemed driven by His calling. Leading the funeral march was My Beloved Elric, His clothes tattered and bloody, His gaze stern and resolute.

Behind Him walked gypsy dancers in the finest gossamer silks and veils and harem pants. Upon their shoulders, the women carried the rusted cage containing Dini. Within She still thrashed and wailed, like a mad creature, long since robbed of all Her humanity.

What remained of The Woodsman's body was chained to the back of the cage and dragged a trench in the sand. Not all of The Woodsman was there.

I was shocked Elric could show such mercy to that monster. How could He destroy The Woodsman and give Him the peace of death, instead of making Him suffer for all time?

Perhaps Elric was kinder than I imagined.

I watched from the cliffside, next to Our Rolls Royce, driven by Isaac.

As a durge, musicians played “The Carnival Is Over” by Dead Can Dance, muffled upon the distant wind. Violin and musicbell soaring.

- they are driven by a strange desire -

- unseen by the human eye -

Stormclouds the color of wet slate rock began to silently part. Rains hushed into the sands and softly lulled off the waves as the skies dried under the impending morning.

Elric led the bellydancers to the very farthest end of the pier, to the cement cul-de-sac, deep out in the lake. There the cage was gingerly lowered to the ground and the ladies politely stepped away.

The moment Elric ceased staring out into the lake, Dini's mad screaming was silenced.

He reopened the gate of Her prison, and the rusted door chortled open, but He didn't coax Her out. He merely smiled a grin so soft, it was hardly noticeable, and stepped away.

Sunrise was nearly upon Us.

I was always so fearful of the sun.

Somehow the fear was gone that day.

Clouds glowed dark purple in the predawn light. A gentle wind wafted a brisk and fresh scent of morning. Like dew and iron. I had forgotten that smell.

Dini tentatively emerged from the cage. One wondered if She had ever been let out of it. Judging by the rust stains embedded in Her flesh, it was obvious She had known nothing but those bars since the last night Elric saw Her.

Crawling out, She didn't seem able to stand upright anymore. Years spent in a cage so small, and She lost the ability to do so.

She and Elric sat quietly at the end of the pier. Curious that Dini was silent. It was the first time Her disquieting, animalistic cacophony had been still.

Perhaps the mere proximity of daylight was, by some magic, restoring a shard of her soul.

Perhaps it was just for the love of her brother.

I like to think so.

And I know He thought the same.

Smiling at that hope, Elric leaned back on His arms. The texture of the old cement, cool in the palm of His hands. How I knew He relished that feeling, knowing it to be one of the last sensations of touch He would ever experience. The stones upon which They sat had been carved with declarations of love and even marriage proposals, down through the decades. Comprised of haphazard sandstone blocks of quarrystone, the pier was very old, enduring endless winter ice and changing tides and summer sun.

Waves lapped against mossy rock, like the sound of puppies at waterbowls. Seagulls were beginning to take flight. Welcoming the new day, screeching like old screendoors on summercamp cabins. Having spent so long in an endless night, I hadn't seen a seagull in ages. The old lady in that movie was right, seagulls were glorious birds.

Dini crawled into His lap, a confused and mad dog, hoping for a compassionate touch. Redemption is true. It is real. It truly is granted to the remorseful. By the mercy of compassion, it is given.

“Shhh.” He pet Her head.

The way She had been disfigured, there was no way for Her to speak like a person anymore. Only the Beast remained. But for the one eye She still retained, somewhere inside that gaze, lost and confused, was a little girl who remembered that she loved her big brother.

“We were going to watch the sunset, Dini. Remember?” Tears trickled down His cheek and He gently held Her hand. “I promised You. And I never fulfilled that promise. Now, together, We will watch the sun rise. For the very first time.”

The debt He can never repay, He bestowed upon the other He failed.

He would never speak of his sister again.

∞ ∞ ∞

The sun was soon to peek over the horizon and already My flesh began to sting with the fear of beetle pincers. I could no longer risk spending another moment in the ending dawn.

The daoine sidhe watched too closely at this hour for We damned.

The unseelie hours were at their close.

Dreams of death are always lucid.

I turned away and climbed back into the car while the night was still dark enough to endure. The rear Rolls Royce seats had been sealed from the inside with earth and steel. When I locked Myself within, there I could sit, in utter darkness, entombed by thick walls of stone from the light of day.

Walls that I knew were not thick enough to block the sound Dini would make when the sun touched Her flesh.

Or so I thought.

I waited. I listened. She never made a sound.

Neither did Elric.

Miles away, The Woodsman made those sounds. For a very long time.

What was left of Him.

Upon the shores of the lake, I heard only the mourners gathering their belongings. Many of them were weeping, undoubtedly never having seen the gruesome fate which befalls a vampire in the light of day. The mythology of Our kind makes most who witness Our death mistakenly think We will burn. Although burning alive would be brutal enough to witness, once you see it for yourself, you discover “burning” is only a metaphor for what what We truly endure. Being slowly incinerated would be peaceful compared to what actually happens.

- the fabulous freaks are leaving town -

Parasols were hung to shoulders. Lanterns were doused. Bellydancers shimmered away with the windchime tingling of coin sequined skirts. They returned to their sideshow wagontrain and departed these eerie shores. Annwn's Obsidian Sideshow & Maelstrom Festival vanished into the last slivers of dawn shadows. Unseen by the human eye, they faded as with morning fog.

- the carnival is over -

There comes a day when nothing matters. Not religion. Not god. Not money. Not life. Not death. Not ones country. And on that day, the only thing which matters is the love you have for one other person.

That day the only thing which mattered to Me was Elric.

For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come?

Often I think dreams are the key to death. Dreams are the way Our spirit reminds Us what life and death really are.

Perchance when We die and look back on Our lives, it will be much like when mortals awaken and look back on a dream. Things that seemed so real and vivid will be bizarre and foolhardy.

When awakening from the oddities of such dreams, one questions how something so irrational felt so reasonable.

Maybe death leaves Us viewing life just the same. Death brings Us to the reality and truth of the universe, whilst life is just a series of beautiful parlor tricks. A carnival. A sideshow of smoke and mirrors. Glorious phantasms of art and wonderment. Yet not one moment of it is real at all.

As We Angels of Death, Our lives remain eternal.

Our dreamlife never ends.

Where could Elric go to awake from His nightmares?

However could He be redeemed for His sins?

He failed to protect Sasha that fateful night.

He failed to protect his sister.

But at last, He could find redemption.

Elric and I drove away in the Rolls Royce, in silence.

Dini remained alone on the end of the pier, far in the lake.

His sweet little sister would suffer no more.

The golden orange sun rose.

Dawn light hit Her skin.

Dini, thanks to Elric, was finally granted the dream to rest in peace.

∞ ∞ ∞

“You scared Me for a minute there.” I said, as the car reached home.

“What do You mean?” Elric asked.

“For a minute, I thought You might stay with Dini at sunrise.”

Elric stared at My hand and held it softly. He waited.

Choosing His words carefully, gently, He said, “There once was a time when I may have done exactly that.”

“And now?”

“Now? Now, I have I far too much to live for. Now, I have You.”

With a smile, He leaned in and kissed Me, as He squeezed My arm.

I lied everytime I mentioned I would lose Him soon.

I lied when I kept repeating that Elric dies by the end.

He didn't.

Neither did Camillia or any of the others.

I lied about that too.

I lied just to fuck with you.

I lied just because...

... of the look I knew you'd have on your face... right now.

Besides...

I warned you from the start...

I'm not very good at telling stories.

Chapter Nineteen

The Unseelie Estate stood as though abandoned and haunted for ages, buried deep in the woods of Hunting Valley.

Windows dared not shatter.

Walls dared not collapse.

Humans dared not enter.

For the dead may soon be back.

Fountains still roiled. The ballroom floor still shone. Dust itself feared to settle upon the sculptures. Every inch remained immaculate, poised to welcome the return of the We Masters DuBois.

Elric and I, His Queen, did preside by conquest as Master and Mistress of the Carnival. Rulers of the Weirds. Purveyors of the Phantasmagorical. Within the Estate did Our jesters and fools perform, along with Our many children from summercamp ghost stories and spectral orphanage folktales.

The woodlands and bleak shores of Chagrin River will always be home to We Creatures of shadow. Every whisper on the wind be the murmurings of sidhe speak. Our presence permeates the very sinews of the trees. The air is perfumed with the dust of Our breath. We are everywhere in those olde woods and fog shrouded streams.

We have since stood in Our fortress of ancient stone and the ice of Our hearts, to conquer the land beyond the horizon. We decree Our will o'er this land forevermore.

None dared without invitation to venture near the great dark of Our valley any longer. Brambles and briars choked the roadways. The stone of the hills themselves seemed to have risen and deepened overnight into sheer and perilous walls of rock. Far plummeted cliffs down to docks adjoining the chagrin waters. Rumor spoke of the citadel being governed by a dire and strange pair.

Perchance once death comes, We truly remain forever living. Moving beyond all that is into the cycles of reality which exist beyond the senses.

Are the dead the beauty of sunlight, reflected from creek ripples onto a dear loves smile? Or are the dead the chills We get from a touching song? Perhaps the dead are the vertigo of time when everything stops and We exist for a solitary moment for eternity. Like a first kiss or holding hands on a loveseat. Maybe the spirits of the dead grant every twist of enchantment Our lives hold and without them, We would never know any heartfelt times at all.

That is how they exist. That is how the dead can be said to live on. Because they are not truly spirits at all. Rather, We all return to the everywhere of Our Own thought and the dream and heart of all the earth; of all the universe; of all the acts of passionately living.

We become wind and waves. We become unprovoked memories of old friends and gradeschool joys. We become a child's laughter and mist. We become starlight and dolphin songs. We become gentle thoughts and tender wishes, the soothing shiver felt down the spine when a distant love thinks fondly upon us. Hidden in the voice which all manner of creatures in the world can hear. The whisper of that which all spirits can comprehend like a compassionate caress. We become the very essence of all these intangible facets of life, which makes every such moment so priceless and worth living. All those experiences and feelings that are carried to Us are, in themselves, the kind and gentle ghosts of Our Own antiquity.

It was the entrails of trees, wiped along mirrors and asphalt bricks, that I saw. I found out that by looking in different directions, I only saw one way.

Never - Did you ever understand what that was?

I think it matters much less now, don't you? My hands weren't a part of Me. They did things I tried to stop. Then I liked watching them. What could they think of next?

Tea in a broken cup. Why is that? If the tea cracked, was it not still part of the whole? If one is gone, why not both? I was there. They tried these things they weren't supposed to do - but I don't know who “they” are.

A seashell. It can be so small, it fits under your fingernail. Sweet perfume going sour on Caribbean winds in the Pacific, over palm tree riddled islands and bombed beaches of black sands. Could you draw in blood red and read scrying divinations within that hourglass of soot and regret? Washing women staining the creekblood stones. The stream that flows in the mind runs into a loop and can't get in... so, it begins all over again.

For a night, We needed to visit ghastly shores and put an end to the entropy of the dead coast. All vampir would subjugate to We, the King and Queen DuBois. The lost angels had no choice but to be ruled. The obsidian sideshow and maelstrom festival would henceforth gather in the ashes of ancient Brittany mansions.

∞ ∞ ∞

There before the Orphans of Annwn would We wed. Deep in an ocean with no memory. Upon the shores as an ancient Avalon, where the dead king would be born again. There shall We return from the grave to command Our Camelot.

“Are You sure?” I asked Elric. “We were already bound once before.”

With a congenial smile Elric said, “No. That was done with Camillia. She was never a part of what We truly are. This is about the essence of Us. The perfect Boy and Girl.”

I grinned. “Perfect.”

“Well, kind of perfect.”

“Kind of?” I gasped, offended.

“Yeah. 'Kind of.' I love You because You're not.”

“I'm not perfect?” I was insulted. How dare He say His Goddess had any imperfection! Let mortal bitches go around thinking no one is perfect. I am irreproachable. (Elric will be proud of that vocabulary word.)

“Hell, no! You're one fucked up and flawed chick, honeypie. You're some seriously damaged goods. You're dark. Sadistic. You're psychotic. But that's what eternal love is all about, isn't it? It's about loving You with Your faults. When I pass judgments on Your failings, when I disapprove of shortcommings, but still cherish You and remain devoted anyway - that's loving You for Who You truly are, instead of loving You for what I wish You could be.”

“But You said Our bond exists beyond mortal rituals like marriage.”

“Yes. But it shows the rest of the world how serious We are.” Then He added, “Besides, You're full of shit.”

I laughed. “Excuse Me?”

Smirking, Elric conceded, “You already know I'm sure about being married to You. I would never hesitate for a second. So, because You already know the answer, You're full of shit. You don't need to ask Me questions like that. You just want to hear Me say how much I will always love You and always be certain of devoting Myself to You.”

“You know Me so well.” I smiled.

“Yeah. I'll always be on Your side, Hel. Even when You're not on Mine. Even when You're full of shit.”

“Which is pretty often?” I nodded.

“Pretty much.” He agreed.

“Dick.”

“Beloved.”

“Aww. How can I stay mad if You call Me things like that?”

“You can't.” He beamed.

“No. No, I can't. I guess I'll have to marry You then.”

“Oh, darn.”

I flipped Him off. “Fix Your tie, asshole.”

“Yes, Dear.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Across ten thousand flames of the candlelit Headlands beach, a gentle breeze made the firelight shimmer. Standing in attendance was a court of all manner of dark Ones. All adorned in endless array of finest suits and dresses of applique and filigree. Crowned in elegant hats and lattice gloves and lorgnettes of the highest fashion.

Our young Connor stood to the right as bestman.

Allyson, as My bridesmaid, and Megan, as Our ringbearer.

The sands hushed with tender waves lapping. The Fairport Harbor West Breakwater Lighthouse, long since replaced by Our massive dark tower of sable granite, rose to right of the processional aisle. Over midnight sands, it stood watch like a mighty and unblinking sentinel. The dark tower held no doors and only miniscule slitted windows upon the dizzying precipice. Within those walls We shared Our coital daydream at the concert. Evil behemoths bellowed from the steamstacks of the distant industrial perversion and foamed within the sky. Opposite the becalmed beach, waves pummeled the breakwall. Our tower unyielding in grim defiance.

Clans of lilting and panflutes deep like Broceliande glades, all the shores and woods were woven on the looms of witchbroom song.

Within Our enigma, We return to innocence.

- don't be afraid to be weak -

- don't be proud to be strong -

Flanking the sands were banners and torches of Our tribe.

Down the aisle, We walked together.

Elric, clothed in a black coat of majestic refinement. I, adorned in a dress of alabaster and cobwebbed chiffon. As His Bride, there was no forebearer to give Me away. None could ever lay claim to Me but Elric Himself.

At the edge of the shore, stood a regal Haudenosaunee shaman.

Bloodlines of his tribe stretched back to the time when the light of Avalon was born. Ancestral even to past lives with Elric.

Blood by blood, We stood bound to the night.

Bound to the land.

Bound to primordial warlock magicks.

We had clearly spoken these words before.

Perhaps on this very same beach.

Perhaps for two thousand lifetimes in a row.

“Darkly Beloved,” The shaman said. “We are gathered here this eve, blessed under the tranquil solitude of nature, to pay homage to the Shadows of the Universe, under whatever name You choose to call them. As witnessed before this Everpresent Will of Life and Death, we unite Elric and Hel in the Immortal Bond of matrimony, both holy and impure.”

The congregation bowed as he continued. “Let it be known that no creature is entitled to happiness. Rather, happiness must be nurtured, through conscious effort. Building a joyful existence is an artform one must develop, understand and revere. Elric and Hel, may all the promises You vow to One Another tonight be evermore upheld, not as obligations, but in that spirit of kindling delight. With the forging of this marriage and the exuberance of Your love, always remember the sanctity of these minutes. Every single night of Your immortality, every experience You have known upon this earth, has lead You to this solitary moment in time, when the pathways of Your journeys finally converge into a single road.”

Elric was so handsome in that weak light of the summer moon. I barely payed attention to the words of the shaman, so lost was I in the beauty of My Betrothed.

The shaman continued. “Down through the centuries, uncounted couples have shared this rite of unity, beseeching priests and holy men to speak definitions of “kindred spirits” and to bestow advice, assuring longevity as husband and wife. Yet, I shall bequeath no such words of wisdom, for Your hearts already know all which is required for You to sustain the mutual adoration You have in this instant. This ritual is nothing more than a formality - within Your spirits, You were already married far before this hour; already conjoined as a Singular Being. You each possess the reciprocal esteem and graciousness required to court Your love and fidelity for all time. You each possess the prerequisites of devotion in Your genuine character and nobility.”

Those words made Me smile at Elric.

Despite all His delicious depravity, Elric did have a nobility to Him. The more I thought of that, the more proud I was to stand beside Him.

The shaman said, “Long ago, words like “honor” and “nobility” were never uttered lightly. They carried great weight and meaning. Chivalry and righteousness were the moral foundations of royal lords and ladies. So it shall be in Your lives, in Your family, in all the souls whom You encounter, that Your harmonious darkveil, dispels the light and shrouds the way. By Your deepest instincts, You know this to be Your highest truth. You are here to foster the Powers of Shadow. To stoke the Fires of Dusk. To rule as King and Queen in both wickedness and mischief. May Your bountiful love for One Another shine as a warning beacon to every soul, when lost in the dark seas of this world. For it is You who behest the shades and bear Thy menace upon the moonlight of nightmares.”

Turning to face Elric, then Myself, he said, “I now request You each, Elric and Hel, before all those gathered here, and the Eyes of Truth and the Universe of Justice, to exchange with devout reverence, the Oaths of Binding You have composed to share this night.”

He then motioned to Me to begin.

Every word I had to speak, I memorized and knew by heart.

Looking deep into those brown eyes of My Betrothed, so bottomless they seemed obsidian, I spoke with a quivering voice. “Elric, My most idolized Love, I, Hel, stand before You as woman and child, as partner and mate. As You pledge to uphold Our dreams, I vow to keep sacred Our dearest home and family. Time and again, I have said, You shall watch Me grow up. You will witness Me become a woman before Your eyes. I will be both privileged as Your student and admired as Your equal. Our bonds be both free-will and destiny, a fate preordained by The Force of All Creation. I take You now as My Husband, and shall remain Your Wife for all time. Time shall be kind and infinite to Us. In the centuries to come, never will You be lonely again. The pain of abandonment will never touch Your heart, for I am Yours for eternity. During every minute of My existence, and beyond to the hereafter, I swear to spend every second loving only You.”

Members of the crowd began to cry. I continued, “I promise to be a harbor of tranquility from the storms of Your life, giving You comfort when You need it, peace when times bring turmoil. I promise to care for You during all Your days and nights, and never forsake You, neither in spirit nor in flesh. I promise to be Your dearest friend and Your champion, entirely loyal and devoted to You forever, and to give My heart and faithfulness to You and none other. I promise to remain Your steadfast shieldmaiden, swearing death before dishonor, and protecting You through all times of trouble. I promise to honor, respect and trust You, knowing that You always have My best interests at heart, even when I disagree with You, or You misunderstand My needs. I promise to cherish You exactly as You are, and proudly support all Your accomplishments, as well as Your hopes. I promise to keep You laughing and smiling, both to celebrate times of happiness and to survive moments of heartache. Unto Myself, I promise to carefully select friends and pastimes of integrity, as those I bring into My life, are now part of Yours.”

After all that happened with the DuBois sisters, that last line seemed fitting.

I continued, “I hereby sacrifice My immortal soul, and surrender all I am unto You. I pledge My heart, and every drop of My blood, to be forevermore Yours, Elric, and to symbolize the infinite circle of Our unending union, I bear unto Thee, this ring.”

Megan presented the stygian pillow.

Our rings were pure titanium, polished to shine like the brightest ocean of chrome. Uncut. Unmarred. No bevels or etching or grooves or anything to distort the pellucid and smooth surface. Just like Our love - Pure; Simple; Elegant. When He first showed the rings to Me, I fell in love with Him all over again.

Slowly, I slid the ring onto His finger, as I spoke, “Once again, I claim Thee for My Own, and take Thee, as My most divine and lawful wedded Husband. As I have avowed in centuries past, with this ring, I Thee wed.”

Elric looked at Me and could hardly speak. He didn't know My vows until that moment. Having written His vows in secret, I had no idea what His would be either. Composing Himself, He prepared to pledge His Own. As He began to speak, His voice was strong and deep and unwavering.

My knees trembled as He said, “Hel, My Darling, today be not Our wedding day. Rather, today, I, Elric, renew My eternal vows unto Thee, from Our first wedding of countless lifetimes past. For in My heart of hearts, I know, Thou art the Soulmate I was destined to have, and the One true love of all My existence. We have walked this path before. After all Our hours upon this earth have passed, We shall walk this path again. While mortals may declare fealty unto death, such a pact unto Thee would disrespect the depth of Our passion, for Our testament exceeds all limits of this mortal coil. While others may profess a kinship until the ending of love, such a treaty unto Thee would disgrace the neverending blessing infused into Our spirits by the Universe itself. I stand before Thee, Hel, not to begin Our journey together, but to acknowledge and continue the endless quest We started aeons ago.”

My tears welled. Never had more romantic words been uttered.

Surely no grander pledge of love had ever been composed. As I said, His vows had been secret. He had never spoken any of this to Me until that moment. My joy froze My heart in midst of beating. I was breathless.

He said, “I promise to always remember Your value in My life, to be Your hero, and Your master, and servant. I promise to care for You and love all You are, light and dark, good and bad, weak and strong, cruel and kind. I promise to respect You with the grace any chivalric and dutiful knight should devote to His dearly worshiped Queen. I promise to be faithful to You and share My heart and flesh and blood with You and no other. I promise to defend Your honor, encourage Your dreams, celebrate Your successes, and comfort Your moments of sorrow. I promise to bring You lifelong elation and humor as sure and true and brilliant as the rising of the moon. I promise to conquer My fears and strive to rise to the occasion of fulfilling Your wishes for all Our future aspirations.”

He added a final vow, similar to Mine by saying, “Unto Myself, I promise to live with a healthy self-respect, pure in mind, body and spirit, remembering the existence I lead now affects Yours as well as My Own.”

Elric squeezed My hand tighter. He quietly added, “Today be not Our wedding day, Hel, for I have been wed to Thee for eternity. Today be the minute, the hour, the night when I again declare unto the world that My boundless love for Thee remains timeless, beyond all birth and death itself. The oaths I partake this night only serve to reinforce the covenants I swore before antiquity. My allegiance, and My love, blossomed before the dawning of the cosmos, and endures after the ending of all reality, and not a single star remains aflame in the heavens.”

Our guests were silent and stunned.

What could I say to such words? I never imagined anyone could say such things to Me. All My days, I had dreamed of such a vow. Prayed that I would one day be adored with the kind of passion Elric just pronounced.

Now that He was speaking such words, the vow was more glorious than I ever imagined it could be. How could anyone love Me like this? No mortal wedding ever made a promise like this. What He has pledged to Me runs far deeper than any superficial mortal betrothal. Ours is truly fused into the core of all existence. Closing His eyes briefly, He said, “I hereby sacrifice My immortal soul, and surrender all I am unto You. I pledge My heart, and every drop of My blood, to be forevermore Yours, Hel, and to symbolize the infinite circle of Our unending union, I bear unto Thee, this ring.”

As I had to Him, He slid My ring quickly onto My hand. Then He said, “Once again, I claim Thee for My Own, and take Thee, as My most divine and lawful wedded Wife. As I have avowed in centuries past, with this ring, I Thee wed.”

Turning to face Me, the shaman asked, “Hel, do You return the vows of Elric, and promise by Your sacred word of honor, to uphold the spirit of all He has pledged unto You?”

My lips quivering, I could barely look Elric in the eyes. “I do.”

The shaman then faced Elric and asked, “Elric, do You return the vows of Hel, and promise by Your sacred word of honor, to uphold the spirit of all She has pledged unto You?”

“I do.” Elric said, without a moment of hesitation.

We faced the congregation and the shaman concluded with his final words, “Elric and Hel, as You have been foresworn under the Bonds of Darkest Love, let none and nothing ever dishonor, nor attempt to tear asunder, on pain of death and unspeakable curses. May Your passion exceed all others, to forever shine in uxorious idolatry. By the power of Your Own immortal souls, and by the Destined Fate of the Universe, have You always been united as Bride and Groom, before and after all time. Unto all the world and underworld; as above, so below; by the power vested in me, I now pronounce You evermore Husband and Wife. Go forth in peace and war, in light and darkness, in hate and love. Blessed be.”

He ended by turning to each of Us and saying, “You may kiss the Groom. You may kiss the Bride.”

All the world spun in Elric's embrace and all the joy I could ever imagine exploded in that single kiss and shot down My spine like a thousand sunflares. His smile the true colors of a black orchid, to warm My darkest heart.

The shoreline of the beach reverberated with the cheers of all in attendance and the waters themselves shimmered with the phosphorescent glow of leviathan and mermaid alike. Stars danced in the heavens and the very moon itself reappeared, setting the clouds aglow with silver light.

That night, Ours was all the love of dragonbane.

That night, We were worshipped as God and Goddess.

That night, fealty was forever sworn.

That night, all the world bowed to Our feet.

That night, We commanded all.

For even in eternal life, the moon shall one day cease to wane.

One day, the seas shall boil.

One day, the mountains shall be dust.

One day the music shall end. And every blessed note of every sacred song to have spurned We all to tears or smiles, will be heard no more.

One day, everything about you is destined to succumb to the demise of time. Everyone that you love shall die. All that you cherish shall crumble to dust. And no one will be left to remember. No other heart or mind will remain upon this earth to speak of you, nor of anything which you have held holy. These words themselves will vanish. And no one will remain to remember what was written here.

Every lover you have had...

Every kiss you have shared...

Every child's laugh that sounded so sweet...

Every magical winter night of your youth...

Every glorious day of your best summer...

Remember them?

Hold fast to those memories. For this may be your last day upon this world and your time for making new memories is at an end.

There are glorious instants when mortals feel as if they might never die. When you have your first kiss, stolen behind bushes where parents can't see. When you stand in awe of dewdrops on roses and see the curious whirl of bumblebees flitting about the petals like icerink faeries at christmas. Those are times when it seems one could be immortal, and all you have ever loved, or will love, is going to bloom forever. When you see your first sunset over the ocean, or watch a snowfall from next to the warmth of a fireplace hearth. When you make love for the first time and the way your lover holds you in such blessed esteem and reverence. These are the moments when life seems to be everlasting and pure.

For My Love, these dreams of immortality were no mere dream. My dark faerie blood shall beat and coarse in My veins for eternity, and I will exist to witness every moonrise to befall the earth into boundless nights.

The brightest light casts the darkest shadows.

Only upon the blackest of nights can one look to the heavens and see the true light of the Universe.

As I am to Elric, so He remains eternally the true light unto Me.

Time be Our tomb and Our salvation.

This mortal coil echoes the dreams of daylight. The Faerie Prince stands to vigil with His Princess, 'neath horror and crescent moons. Making love to Each Other with passions to make the stars blush, ashamed for they hold not the beauty of Our desire.

Over the threshold, carried aloft...

Through bridalveil doorways...

Elric held My hand, as We stood atop ramparts of the Unseelie Estate.

“Welcome home, My Love.” He said, looking to the forest horizon.

“Welcome home, My King.”

My lips kissed to His ring.

My fingertip traced to His bloodstone.

So, thus began Our tyrannous reign.

We dance upon gothic shadows of masochist rainbows.

We are become the maelstrom.

All Our days be the sideshow festival.

We hate. We love.

We rule all We survey, as the King and Queen of Malice.

Obsidian hearts flow with blood colder than hailstone. The hunted die screaming. The loved relish the pain. The unjust are exacted the wrath of vengeance. The rest... are never shown mercy.

Here converge the crossroads of dawn.

This be Our innocence.

This be the return... to Our dark and Our truth.

We gleam upon the moonfrost.

Every echo of the past reverberates in Our souls.

Nothing is forgotten.

Our place is here.

Our time unbroken.

From the second of Our dying to the centuries of Our being.

Every beat remembered...

Every love cherished...

Every wrong avenged...

Thus We lived -

Malevolently... ever after.

Ever after...

And ever after...

“. . . and we faeries, that do run,

by the triple Hecate's team,

from the presence of the sun

following darkness like a dream. . .”

- William Shakespeare

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Act 5, Scene 1

Playlist

Musician - “Song”/Album

Single Gun Theory - “Motherland”

Sinead O'Connor - Universal Mother

Sinead O'Connor - “A Perfect Indian”

Phil Collins - “Against All Odds”

Michael W. Smith - “Pray For Me”

Sarah McLachlan - “Adia”

The Cure - “Treasure”

Tori Amos - “Honey”

Loreena McKennitt - “Stolen Child”

Bel Canto - “Mornixuur”

Clan Of Xymox - “This World”

Bigod 20 - “The Bog”

Nitzer Ebb - “Join In The Chant”

Velvet Acid Christ - “Malfunction (Funker Vogt Remix)”

Clan Of Xymox - “A Day”

Suicide Commando - “Hellraiser (VNV Nation Remix)”

VNV Nation - “Standing”

Spoke - “I, Parasite”

Wolfsheim - “Once In A Lifetime”

Peter Murphy - “I'll Fall With Your Knife”

Lady Gaga - “Monster”

Nine Inch Nails - “The Only Time”

Nine Inch Nails - “Get Down, Make Love”

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - “Date With The Night”

Faith & The Muse - “All Lovers Lost”

Faith & The Muse - “Vervain”

Faith & The Muse - “The Unquiet Grave”

Marilyn Manson - “If I Was Your Vampire”

Curve - “Nowhere”

Placebo - “Sleeping With Ghosts”

The Pogues - “Fairytale Of New York”

Sarah McLachlan - “Building A Mystery”

Sarah McLachlan - Surfacing

Sarah McLachlan - “I Love You”

The Escape Club - “I'll Be There”

Loreena McKennitt - “Ce He Mise le Ulaingt (The Two Trees)”

Clan Of Xymox - “Jasmine & Rose”

Emiliana Torrini - “If You Go Away”

The Distillers - “City Of Angels”

Bad Religion - “Los Angeles Is Burning”

Courtney Love - “Sunset Strip”

Wolfsheim - “The Sparrows And The Nightingales”

Covenant - “Bullet”

Wolfsheim - “Once In A Lifetime”

:Wumpscut: - “Wreath Of Barbs”

Recoil - “Chrome (with Nicole Blackman)”

Combichrist - “This Shit Will Fuck You Up”

Poe - “Hey Pretty”

Benny Benassi - “Who's Your Daddy?”

Bryan Adams - “Everything I Do I Do It For You”

Azure Ray - “Sleep”

Power Of Dreams - “Stay”

The Band Perry - “If I Die Young”

Sinead O'Connor - “I Am Stretched On Your Grave”

VNV Nation - “Forsaken (Vocal Version)”

Gabrielle Aplin - “Home”

Nitzer Ebb - “Let Your Body Learn”

Nitzer Ebb - That Total Age

The Cramps - “Sheena's In A Goth Gang”

Ladytron - “Seventeen”

Rob Zombie - “Dragula”

Prodigy - “Hotride”

Android Lust - “Stained”

Gary Numan - “Dead Heaven”

Nine Inch Nails - “Head Like A Hole”

Nine Inch Nails - “Terrible Lie”

Nine Inch Nails - “Sin”

Nine Inch Nails - “The Only Time”

Nine Inch Nails - “Get Down, Make Love”

Smashing Pumpkins - “Bullet With Butterfly Wings”

Lady Gaga - “Dance In The Dark”

Siouxsie & The Banshees - “Little Sister”

Siouxsie & The Banshees - “Staring Back”

Siouxsie & The Banshees - “Lullaby”

Siouxsie & The Banshees - “Peek-A-Boo”

Siouxsie & The Banshees - “Kiss Them For Me”

Siouxsie & The Banshees - “The Last Beat Of My Heart”

Clan Of Xymox - “Imagination”

Book Of Love - “Pretty Boys And Pretty Girls”

The Cure - “The Last Day Of Summer”

Curve - “Turnaround”

Horrorpops - Hell Yeah

Jane's Addiction - “Ocean Size”

Jane's Addiction - Nothing's Shocking

Jane's Addiction - “Whores”

Jane's Addiction - “Chip Away”

Jane's Addiction - “Jane Says”

In The Nursery - “Motive”

Primus - “Mr. Krinkle”

The Wake - “Sideshow”

Dead Can Dance - “The Carnival Is Over”

Enigma - “Return To Innocence”

Epilogue

Good evening, this is author Eric Muss-Barnes.

I'm sorry about this.

I really am.

I intended to keep this epilogue short.

I sincerely did.

The epilogue in my first novel was embarrassingly long. Therefore, I made a very concerted effort to keep this one brief. As I composed this epilogue, nearly 20 years have passed since the prequel was penned. Two decades later, I find myself subscribing to the philosophy of “listen more, talk less” and I consequently decided, I had very little to say about this book.

Or so I thought.

But, what happened was, over the months of writing this book, I'd get little disjointed ideas I'd want to mention in the epilogue. So, I jotted them down really quick. A paragraph here. A paragraph there.

Next thing I knew, all those “little” paragraphs had really added up.

My “short” epilogue had expanded into a massive 30 pages.

Crap.

The one in The Gothic Rainbow is only 17 pages!

So, I apologize. I honestly didn't mean to make it this long.

Let me summarize these 30 pages in one sentence:

Hey, thanks for reading my novel and I hope you enjoyed it!

There.

All done.

Now you don't need to read the rest of this epilogue. All finished. You can seriously just put the book down now.

For those who are inclined to peruse my self-indulgence, what follows below is the much longer version of that single-sentence sentiment. But trust me, that sentence I just offered a moment ago is truly an adequate substitute.

Four thoughts I want to share.

1. Annwn's Maelstrom Festival is a sequel to my first novel, The Gothic Rainbow.

2. In the lengthy epilogue of The Gothic Rainbow, I often took myself way too seriously.

3. “Creaminess Rubs” is an anagram for my name, Eric Muss-Barnes.

4. Any fella who can make the anagram “Creaminess Rubs” out of his name should never take himself too seriously.

Therefore, rest assured, this epilogue will be far more lighthearted (although unfortunately not more brief) than that of The Gothic Rainbow.

As a reader, when I enjoy a book, an epilogue from the author is a wonderful treat at the end.

After spending hour after hour with the characters and the story, the epilogue is the closest I can get to sitting down with the author and having a conversation about the tale. Epilogues are like an intimate chat with the writer.

“An intimate chat” is not something I've ever shared with a writer.

Not face-to-face, anyway.

I don't have any writer friends.

I don't much care for fellow authors.

Well, let me rephrase - it's not the authors I am so repulsed by. What repulses me is the topic of writing. Last thing I ever want to do with writers is talk about writing. Surefire way to avoid getting dragged into such conversations is to simply avoid associating with writers altogether!

Everything which I disdain about authors is exactly the type of self-congratulatory rubbish I start to spew when writing an epilogue. Nothing is more nauseating than listening to a creative person droll on about their “craft” and talking about “art”. Ugh. Truly, such people can make one physically ill. It's about as revolting as being forced to watch a really ugly person masturbate to lewd pictures of your elderly relatives. Not that I've experienced such a thing, but it sure sounds nasty.

I'm reminded of a musician I knew back in 1995 or thereabouts. He was very talented and wrote great music. However, if you talked to him about music, he would use horrible phrases like “a musical journey” to describe his work. Yeah. Right. Musical journey.

Whatever.

How about crawling out of your own rectum and joining the rest of the world? Okay, buddy? You're not Roger Waters. I know you want to be. You're not. Get over yourself. This isn't Pink Floyd.

Musical journey, my ass.

His songs were nothing more than 9-minute power-ballads. Very well-written 9-minute power-ballads, but 9-minute power-ballads nevertheless.

My dread fear is to write an epilogue in which I become so delusional that I start calling my writing “a literary journey” or somesuch crap.

Bull. I wrote a pulp vampire novel. Nothing more.

Truth is, only a small number of folks care about my writing. My stories have an extraordinarily tiny fan base. The tales I tell are appreciated by dozens of people. Not millions. Not thousands. Not even hundreds. My stories will never gain a large audience or critical acclaim. That simply isn't my destiny. I know this and I'm fine with it. I rather enjoy the intimacy of a miniscule fanbase and the serenity of being totally unknown.

I write for me. I write for my own joy, my own satisfaction, my own fulfillment. I never write to please anyone else.

That may sound selfish, but it's not.

The truth is, with all the billions of people in this world, there will always be readers who loathe my writing and there will always be those who love it. No matter what I say in an epilogue, I can't “convert” those who loathed a story into enjoying it. Therefore, all I can do is write for my own satisfaction and hope more readers enjoy it than not.

Besides, if you write in an attempt to please others, but hate it yourself, why bother to promote it? Why would an author tell anyone about a novel, if he himself is unhappy with it? Saying I write to please myself is not selfish at all. All novels and albums and movies must be a joy for the creator, or else there would never be a motive to share them with the world.

I write for me.

I publish for others.

I publish in the hope that others will enjoy the tale and find their lives enriched and improved for having read it. Now and then, someone will send fanmail and say they like my stories, and that's always a pleasure, to know someone else appreciates it. But truth be told, my creativity will never possess mass appeal.

Folks like Walt Disney and Steven Spielberg are gentlemen I admire, because they understand how to create entertainment with mass appeal.

I have no idea how to do that.

So, I don't bother.

Aspiring to appeal to the masses, and failing to succeed, would be far too disappointing to me. Easier instead to appeal to my own sensibilities, and not worry about how many folks are keeping pace behind me, as I forge ahead.

Besides, who wants dark vampire novels to be popular? My biggest fear with the notion of these novels ever gaining a wide audience is the possibility of some sociopathic lunatic becoming an obsessive fan, identifying with the sadistic and violent elements of the story, and misinterpreting the moral of the book as advocating such behavior. After all, no one in this book, except The Woodsman, is ever really brought to justice or made to pay for their crimes in a moral sense. Elric and Helle both do some awful things to humans, and they get away with it. No reprimands. No punishment. Nothing.

Rest assured, I don't advocate the immorality of Elric and Helle.

In point of fact, there is no “moral to the story” in The Vampire Noctuaries. I simply see the tale as two lost souls, lovers who are struggling to find their place in a world of darkness and lies. Slowly they discover that their bond and their creation of family is their greatest salvation.

The book is like the movie Zombieland or the TV show Firefly.

The theme is: Those with no family, constructing a family.

Often, I think of Elric and Helle as characters who do not represent people, but rather they represent facets of the human condition. They represent morality shifts. They represent emotional states.

Never do I think of them as a literal one-to-one ratio of allegorical representation to individuals. They are a mutable parable for countless aspects of past, present and future society.

Or maybe I'm lying.

Maybe I'm making that up off the top of my head, just to sound smart.

Maybe it's a deep “literary journey”, man!

Or maybe this book is just meaningless fluff.

Maybe I just wanted to write a book with naughty vampires in it.

My point is, no matter how you choose to see it, I hope you had a good time reading this tale. You are among a very minute circle of people who have read it. (If you are among the folks who actually enjoyed reading this novel, you're likely in an even smaller group still!)

If the purpose of an epilogue is indeed to share in a private conversation with the author so he can discuss the “meaning” of his story, then this is all the meaning I have to share - It's nothing more than fluff and entertainment. It's most definitely not a literary journey!

This book is simply substance to shadows.

I hope you had fun with the tale.

I hope it added something of positive value to your life.

Thanks for reading my book.

The concept of Annwn's Maelstrom Festival was inspired by two things. One was the Jim Rose Circus, a sideshow featured at the second-annual Lollapalooza concert, which I attended in 1992 at Blossom Music Center in Ohio. The other inspiration was Mr. Dark's Pandemonium Carnival featured in the film, Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes. I simply thought, “What if the Jim Rose sideshow was some sort of supernatural freakshow, like Mr. Dark's Pandemonium Carnival? What if this Lollapalooza circus act was run by vampires?”

That sounded like a fun story idea.

When I first started working at Walt Disney Studios, I had the immeasurable honor of meeting Ray Bradbury on the Lot at the studio theatre near Halloween in 2007, when they had a special screening of Something Wicked This Way Comes. Mr. Bradbury attended and after the film, I shook his hand and merely said, “Hello, Mr. Bradbury. My name is Eric and I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for everything.”

He looked a bit confused, since I didn't request an autograph like everyone else in line. But I could never ask him for an autograph. He had already given me so much through his lifetime of wonderful stories, I could ask no more of him. I was simply honored to share 10 seconds of my life with such a legendary storyteller.

He died 5 years later at the age of 91.

When I first became smitten with the idea of being a writer, I was always fascinated by hearing stories of authors who met Ray Bradbury. After all, for lovers of science fiction and fantasy, there was no living writer who was more renown or respected. In the back of my mind, I always imagined meeting him might somehow legitimize my own writing. Maybe some of his magic would rub off in a handshake.

I don't know if any magic permeated into me, but I certainly was astonished that meeting him actually happened. I never thought I'd meet him. Pretty amazing that even from beyond the grave, Walt Disney himself made our introduction.

This book wouldn't exist without Ray Bradbury.

He and many others influenced my desire to write.

Starting at the age of 14, I spent many years wanting to be a novelist. In junior high and high school, I was constantly reading books and trying to absorb advice and educate myself on the artistry and technique of writing. Trying to learn the proper etiquette for finding agents and publishers.

Until finally, sometime in my twenties, it hit me... I wanted to write.

Period.

I didn't really care about all that other crap.

Critics. Reviews. Publishers. Book deals. Distribution. Marketing. Fans. Book signings. Royalty checks.

I wasn't actually interested in any of that.

I just wanted to write.

Didn't matter if others read it.

Didn't matter if others liked it.

Didn't matter if it never earned a dime.

Didn't matter if it was even any good.

All that mattered was the act of writing. The joy of putting the words on paper. The pleasure of constructing and turning a phrase. The charm of ink on the page and the artistry of the way words look within a paragraph. Yes, even that - even the physical appearance of ink on paper is part of the joy for me. Hence my fascination with disjointed and single-sentence paragraph structures. I love the way paragraphs and words and letters simply look on the page.

Writing is a dream.

Eventually, I realized the only way to make that dream come true was to stop reading about it, and start writing. Write something. Anything. Just start getting the words on the page.

An empowering realization.

The pleasure derived from the act of writing became the only motive.

Powerful indeed.

It allowed me to finally create something, knowing the other factors of “publishing” were all superfluous.

Many writers give awful advice to aspiring writers. One of the most common - “Read more than you write.”

What?

That's ridiculous!

Reading is certainly vital to understand the craft of writing and can provide great sources of inspiration to see what other amazing authors have composed.

But to read more than you write?

You don't tell an athlete to watch sports more than they train.

You don't tell dancers to watch dance recitals more than they practice.

Reading more than you write?

That will make you a great reader, not a great writer.

One of the most important lessons I've learned about writing, the biggest “secret” was something that no one ever told me. I never read it in any books or heard any teachers talk about it. No screenwriting courses teach it. No novelist-support forums on the Internet mention it.

So, what is the big “secret” I learned?

I learned that the common ideas of what makes “good” writing, and the formats in which to compose a story, such as the Hero's Journey or the Three Act Structure, are all bullshit.

Compelling writing requires only two things:

1. Characters the reader cares about.

2. Interesting experiences for those characters to have.

That's it. Period. Nothing else matters.

No “professional” writer will agree with me.

Every creative writing teacher on earth will tell you I'm wrong.

I'm not wrong.

I can prove it.

Think about our most common form of storytelling. What is it? How are our most predominant stories constructed?

It's not movies. It's not books. It's not television.

It's our friends and family.

Right?

Think about it.

We are all storytellers. Every conversation we have with people tends to consist of storytelling. The largest and most prolific and influential source of storytelling in our lifetimes comes from our verbal interaction with fellow human beings. Everyone is constantly telling each other about things that happened to them at work, or on a date, or with the kids, or at the family reunion, or going out to the nightclub, or what happened at the bowling alley, or their day at the beach, or the plane ride on their vacation.

These people and events reflect the most predominant storytelling in our lives.

Now, I ask you, have you ever listened to your grandparents talk about their day at the grocery store and when they are finished, you say, “Well, that story didn't have a proper three-act-structure.”

Of course not!

Did you ever listen to your friend tell you a hilarious story of their vacation, then say, “Well, that was a great story, but it didn't follow the motif of the Hero's Journey.”

No! That would be moronic!

Don't get me wrong. The Hero's Journey and the three-act-structure are very legitimate and valid ways to build a story. I'm not trying to undermine the legitimacy of these constructs or imply that the analysis of tales following these motifs are incorrect. I'm simply noting that when stories are diluted into their most raw and essential ingredients, they are far more simple than we have been lead to believe.

Hence, I reiterate, stories require only two things:

1. Characters the audience cares about.

2. Interesting experiences for those characters to have.

In this example, the characters are your grandparents. If you care about them, and their story isn't boring, you will listen. Plain and simple. Their tale will hold your attention. Doesn't matter what the “structure” of the story happens to be. There doesn't need to be an antagonist, or a conflict, or a character arc, or any of the bullshit they teach you in writing classes.

You need to have characters people care about.

Those characters have to be in interesting situations.

That's it.

The end.

That's the whole of secret of storytelling!

One of the greatest literary examples of this is The Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger. The book has no plot. The book has no structure. The book has no antagonist. There is no real character arc. It's a story about a kid wandering around New York City and hanging out. Despite breaking all rules of writing conventions and storytelling, it is one of the most enthralling books you can imagine.

Why?

Why does The Catcher In The Rye work so well, despite being written so unconventionally? Why is it so magnificent, despite breaking the rules?

Because it follows my two rules:

1. A character you care about.

2. He does things that are interesting.

Being a great storyteller requires nothing more.

Now, I do have to add, your technical skill does play a factor. One must be articulate and have a savvy vocabulary in order to obey those two rules. That is how a character becomes endearing and has those interesting experiences. Command of language is vital too. Going back to the example of the grandparents and the grocery store, if your grandfather has a crippling stutter, it could make it very difficult to enjoy his story. Even though you adore him and he's telling something interesting, if you can't understand his speech, the story still falls apart.

The “telling” in storytelling is everything.

Another myth of writing, which I long ago learned is false, is when people constantly say, “The story is everything.”

Absolutely not.

You hear writers and filmmakers repeat that over and over again.

“The story is everything.”

“The story is the most important thing.”

Bullshit!

The story is irrelevant! The telling is everything.

You're not a “story”, you're a “storyteller”.

An audience never “reads a story”, they “experience storytelling”.

A great storyteller can make a story about drying paint compelling.

A terrible storyteller can make a story about the first lunar landing dull.

The story is not important. What is important is the way in which you tell that story.

Story is not everything.

Storytelling is everything.

“Drying too fast in the arid heat, she watched the paint crack; crevices forming across its surface, like the skin on her grandmother's brow.”

“The spaceship landed for the first time that ever happened before!”

Your telling can ruin anything.

Your telling can make anything beautiful.

That's the secret to great writing.

a.) Relevant characters.

b.) Experiences which are compelling.

Hopefully, I'll learn how to achieve both of those things someday.

As for compelling, I am sincerely not compelled by this genre at all.

Vampire stories are truly awful.

People often make the mistake of presuming I love horror stories. Understandable. After all, I did write a vampire book. Once I wrote The Gothic Rainbow, that assumption was something I heard a lot.

“Oh, you wrote a vampire novel? You must love ______ (insert horror movie title here)!”

No.

I hate horror stories. I'm not into them in the slightest.

Sincerely. I'm not being sarcastic. I have never had any interest whatsoever in horror novels or films. If you look at my movie collection, you won't find any. I've never been into that stuff.

Worse yet, people always think I love vampire stories.

Nope. Not at all.

In fact, I hate vampire stories.

Again, I'm being 1000% serious. That's not a joke. I detest vampire movies. I never read vampire novels. I think vampire television shows are pathetic.

That's precisely why I wrote a vampire book.

I wrote it so I could read a vampire story I'd enjoy.

See, most authors write what they love.

You love horror stories? You write horror movies.

You love romantic tales? You write romance novels.

You love space aliens? You write science fiction.

That's not the way I think.

For example, I love science fiction. Which is exactly the reason I never write any science fiction.

Why should I waste my time?

There are literally hundreds of fantastic science fiction stories out there. What is the point of creating something that is already being made exceptionally well?

For me, it makes more sense to take fantastic concepts which are always done poorly (like vampires), and make those great.

So, yes, I truly hate vampire stories.

Honestly.

I'm not joking.

I think they are all horrible. I never watch vampire movies or read vampire books or watch vampire television series. Never will. Because all the things I have seen or read are a disappointment and all the things I have gleaned are never any better.

Vampire stories suck (no pun intended).

There are a few exceptions, (I never saw the 2003 movie Underworld with Kate Beckinsale until I was writing this epilogue, 10 years after the film was released, and I have to admit, that flick was kinda cool) but for the most part, no, I don't dig vampire tales all that much.

Spooky stories, on the other hand...

Things that are weird and eerie, in the spirit of the old Twilight Zone television episodes, now those stories, I absolutely love.

And, again, no one writes that style of tale anymore. Which frees me up to write them! Those I can create, because they aren't being done.

I'm not remotely interested in darkness.

I am very interested in shadows.

Darkness is boring. Cheap scares. Gore. Evil. These things have no merit as story elements, because they are too simple. Too boring. Too cut and dry.

Shadows on the other hand, have nuance. They have levels and tones and shades and they are always in flux. That makes for great dramatic tension and storytelling.

Demons are boring.

Devils are intriguing.

Darth Vader was great as a 100% evil overlord.

When you discover he's Luke's father, the story becomes 10 times richer. Now Vader has much more depth. Now he has shading. Now there's a story. Now there is a fall from grace and an internal conflict.

Then you discover Vader's a pansy-assed whiny little bitch, and that ruins the whole thing, but let's not go there.

When he ceases being pure evil and becomes nuanced shadow, his character is richer for it.

Horror movies tend to be revolting. Back in the 1930's to 1960's, they were fun. Then in the 1970's and beyond, they just became obscene. They became nothing but gory violence. “Disgusting” can certainly be scary, but it's never as interesting as “creepy”.

Despite the violence in The Vampire Noctuaries, most of the scenes are just creepy instead of gory. The violence is just a bit visceral from personal experience. When I was 18 years old, there was a time when I got jumped and beaten up by a group of about 5 or 6 guys and landed in the hospital. Honestly, since I was getting punched and kicked in the face, I couldn't actually count all my attackers. Thus, I could never be certain of the exact number of perpetrators. Living through such an experience is why it was so easy to write a violent and vivid attack on the character of Elric in The Gothic Rainbow. I've been through that kind of physical violence for real. In order to write an accurate assault scene for a book, all I had to do was use my imagination to increase the brutality a bit, crank up the amplitude, and I was left with something very tactile.

Honestly, I didn't mean for it to become quite so violent. That was a mistake. I kind of did that on accident.

This book went a little off track too.

I don't have any clue what the hell happened when I started writing this book. I began by saying I wanted it to be less vulgar than the first. Now I have graphic and crass sex scenes which are far more explicit than anything in the first book! What happened?

Honestly, I blame Helle.

What happened? A horny somewhat-socipathic teenage girl is what happened. I should have known better. Written from Helle's perspective, of course it would be vile. The girl is psycho.

Oops.

Well, let's face it, despite the vampire novels written by those safe and puritanical “tween” authors, there's no such thing as a real-life teenage girl who gets a shy crush on a little boy on her highschool football team. Bullshit. The girl dreams of fucking that 25 year old dude who showed up at the party last Friday on a black motorcycle. That's the guy she really wants. He's the one she can't stop thinking about. Teenage girls don't give a shit about Johnny in algebra class. They want the older badboy in the leather jacket.

One of my teenage friends told me I had to finish this book in order to give her and her girlfriends a voice. To show them the vampire world they really want to see. None of this “coy and bashful stares of longing” crap.

As you wish.

Here it is.

Sex and violence galore.

Your parents will definitely not approve.

I won't get nominated for any of those “Best Young Adult Fantasy” awards anytime soon. Not with these books.

Why couldn't I be blessed with sweet stories containing mass appeal like those written by Richard Bach or Frances Hodgson Burnett? These were wonderful writers with such exquisite command of language.

I'm nowhere near their caliber and I fear with another 40 years of experience, I may still never reach the plateau upon which they wrote.

'Tis a queer thing that I do not pretend to understand. Why authors, such as these, delight and inspire me so, yet I find myself writing tales so dark and woeful. My muse walks upon the opposite end of the spectrum. Theirs are stories of pure sunlight, whilst mine reside upon the dark side of the moon.

Funny. Everyone always tells you to follow your passion. No one ever tells you what to do when you discover you will only ever be mediocre at the passion you love the most.

At first, I sincerely hoped this second book might allow The Vampire Noctuaries to find a wider audience. Who knows, maybe it might even make some money. Wouldn't it be cool if I earned like $6000 and thereby break even from the printing and promoting of the first book 17 years prior? But stories this graphic and explicit never become popular. No one reads them. Critics hate them. They fade into obscurity.

But I had no choice.

Helle is who she is. This is how she behaves. I couldn't change her.

Many readers won't understand that.

“What do you mean? You wrote this book. Helle isn't real. You can change her. You're the one who made it up!”

Well, not exactly.

Fictional characters truly do dictate their stories. Authors don't have the freedom to just “make up anything they want” as most non-creative folks presume. No. Not at all.

Fictional characters are actually very real. Not physically, of course. But psychologically? Absolutely. These characters totally exist and are 100% real in terms of their personality and psychology. You can't change the voice of the character. Bad for the story. Bad for the psyche. Best to just let them speak and say what they want to say.

That's crazy talk to non-authors.

Artists get it though.

Musicians know you can't change the song.

Actors know you can't change the character.

Authors know you can't change the story.

Songs, characters, stories; each have their own unique voice, their own rhythm. Your job as an author or musician or actor is to find that voice and express what you hear. You can not bend it to your will. Doing so destroys it. You must allow the creation to manifest organically and flow naturally. This is what dancers and musicians and authors mean when they speak about the need to “find” a piece. Creativity within such artforms is truly an act of discovery, not an act of construction. True imagination is tracking the path, not building a road. This is why most creative people seek solitude and quiet to create, because there is a certain serenity required to hear the music, to see the dance, to imagine the story.

Think about it - none of those nimrods writing novels and screenplays in coffeeshops ever produce anything. Ever hear of a famous author writing a bestselling novel or screenplay in a coffeeshop? Of course not. Those are bullshit public displays of ego. Isolation produces masterpieces.

Again, if you're not a creative spirit, you will have no idea what I'm talking about. The dreamers and poets know what I'm talking about though. You folks speak the same crazy.

I had to permit the story to unfold as these characters lived it.

Deep within, I see myself as a positive and happy and upbeat person. Why then did I have such an incredibly dark and bleak story within me?

I don't have a good answer for that.

Perhaps it's the mere psychology of dealing with the demons. We all have a dark side. Some of us suppress it. Some of us act upon it and end up in prison for it. Some of us turn it into books or movies and confront the demons that way.

Not everyone agrees with that.

“Civilized” society is often filled with those who pervert the human condition by denying our baser animal instincts. Those who fear and suppress their dark side also try to deny it exists in everyone else. Anyone who admits to having thoughts of rage or violence are then labeled as “disturbed” or “deranged”. They get diagnosed with bullshit “conditions” which don't exist and prescribed psychotropic drugs which dull the mind.

This, of course, is horrible. Those suppressive people are the deranged ones. Violence and fury are natural emotions, all equal and valid spectrums of the human condition. Being enraged and violent are normal feelings, just as joy and contentment. Sick and twisted people are the ones who pretend life is all puppyydogs and rainbows each and everyday. When life isn't so happy, instead of dealing with their anger and frustration, those sick people take sleeping pills or put their children on Ritalin and Prozac.

They deny. They cover. They suppress. The needlessly medicate.

Think about how psychotic they are - medicating human emotions?

Those people are horror incarnate.

Healthy people are the ones who embrace rage and depression as a natural part of human nature.

Again, “embracing rage” doesn't mean you spontaneously act on every violent impulse and inflict harm on your fellow citizens. Not at all. I'm not suggesting mindless acts of violence are to be condoned. Never. What I mean when I say “embracing rage” is to find healthy outlets for that anger, instead of attempting to stifle it with “medication” or “therapy” which unethically convinces people they are “ill” in some way.

Pissed off at the world?

You don't need drugs or therapy.

Take a martial arts class.

Go see a violent movie.

Lift weights in a gym.

Read a vampire novel.

But don't pretend the anger isn't there.

Don't medicate it away.

Face the demons.

Suppress the demons and they will destroy you.

Honestly, though, I don't think any of that was my motive at all.

No. This novel wasn't for coping with my demons.

Actually, it's a much more positive and uplifting motive.

Ultimately, I don't see The Vampire Noctuaries as a negative story. Not at all. To me, this is a great, bright and epic lovestory. It's a tale about embracing our dark side and living with the truth of what we become. It's about learning to move on from a lost love and find intimacy again. It's about surviving death - both metaphorical death and biological - to discover life and love once again. It's about developing a passion with someone so strong and unwavering that even in the face of the darkest universe anyone could imagine, the two lovers exist by a code of eternal loyalty and devotion.

At book signings for The Gothic Rainbow, I'd often write something along the lines of “may this dark tale give your life some light” or such a similar phrase. That is the point after all - to be uplifted and hopeful.

Many awful things happen in the tale, but the overall moral of the story, the return on the hero's journey, is the message that love will still win the day.

As life goes on, we all fall from grace.

Some more than others, obviously.

Not all wrongs we commit should be burdened with guilt.

Not all wrongs anyone commits should be forgiven.

Why teach the morals this way?

The most understandable question would be, “Why?”

Why write a story with such violent and evil vampires?

Why write a story where the hero is a demonic blood-drinking rapist and his girlfriend is a cold-blooded murderer?

When I was a teenager, dreaming of being a “successful author”, I sure didn't plan to write a story that would be a guaranteed financial failure. No one wants to read a story where such violence is condoned and goes unpunished. We want happy endings. We want justice.

Allowing my vampires such ghastly behavior and having it go unchecked goes against the spirit of all morality fables.

Why then did I write it?

Well, that's quite simple.

The Vampire Noctuaries were intended to feel realistic, if vampires really existed.

That was my goal.

Despite the weirdos with psychological problems who get interviewed on daytime talkshows, there are no “real” supernatural immortal vampires. But, pretending that vampires actually existed, what might they be like? How would they behave? How would they think?

That was where the idea of melding and weaving in faerie myths came from. It developed from the idea that if supernatural vampires were real, they might have a correlation to other mythological beings. Primitive cultures may have had difficulty articulating various manifestations of the same demons.

Plus, the idea of mixing French aristocracy and Celtic faerie myths deep in the woods of Ohio is actually historically accurate and realistic too. I know, that sounds crazy, but history bears out such a fantasy.

The area of France known as Brittany has ancient Celtic origins. Therefore, despite being French, there's an influence of Celtic folklore in Brittany.

The Ohio Valley truly was settled by the French.

Therefore, having an aristocratic Celtic/French vampire family living in a mansion in an Ohio woodland isn't totally implausible. Although such a thing may have never happened for real, it's not an outlandish big stretch to imagine it could have happened.

As Tori Amos said, when interviewed about Cleveland, “It's where the good vampires live.”

She understood. Girls like her can read the wind.

I always felt the myth of vampires was fascinating. Immortal and dark creatures which feed on human blood? What a crazy idea!

What would that existence do to the psychology of a human?

Immortality.

Darkness.

Doesn't it stand to reason, such an existence would turn a person into something monstrous and immoral?

Simply as a way to survive, even a “good person” would need to transform into something morally hideous and reprehensible.

But no authors or filmmakers ever get that right.

Every single vampire movie and novel is crap.

The vampires in those stories always feel “guilty” or they seek “redemption” or some crap. Well, what about the vampires who would not feel guilty? What about a story showing vampires who would revel in that evil and embrace the darkness as their only way to survive?

No one had ever done that in a popular vampire story.

Make the good guys bad.

Don't make any bad guys.

My entire motive was to create a story no one else had ever done. A story where the vampires had no scruples, no enemies, no limitations, no battles to fight, nothing to do but cope with their own existence.

My vampires were not being hunted by vampire slayers.

My vampires were not waging war with other vampire clans.

My vampires were not worried about the origins of vampirism.

My vampires were not plagued by guilt and searching for meaning.

One of those concepts are in 99% of vampire stories.

Through 90% of my story, there isn't even an antagonist.

My novels contain nothing but the vampires alone.

Once I knew I had an idea that had never been done, with a mythological being I found intriguing, I had to write it.

That is why.

So, if I have written a tale which will be a financial disaster, at least I took a cliche like vampires and gave them a new universe to inhabit. One which no other authors or screenwriters ever have.

Or...

Perhaps I'm not the first. Perhaps others have written similar tales, but the others also remained as obscure as this book! That's much more likely. Rather then creating an original idea, perhaps I wrote a failed cliche? Of that I can't be certain.

The only story I've ever encountered which comes close to sentiment of The Vampire Noctuaries is the Oliver Stone film, Natural Born Killers.

In my opinion, Natural Born Killers is one of the most romantic vampire stories ever written, even though the main characters aren't “vampires” in the mythological sense. However, watch the film in a symbolic and metaphorical sense, and Mickey and Mallory are most definitely vampires.

Unfortunately, most people didn't “get” that film and it did poorly at the box office and was derided by critics.

Despite the way the general public perceived the film, Mickey and Mallory Knox were not going around killing indiscriminately. They only killed people they felt deserved it, based upon their own code of ethics. For example, they killed Mallory's dad for molesting her, her mother for being ambivalent, and allowed her little brother Kevin to live, because he was truly innocent.

Dark as it may have been, there was still a morality at work in that film. Twisted though it may have seemed, the two lovers still lived by a sense of right and wrong.

Same for Elric and Helle.

Just like Mickey and Mallory, “Only love can kill the demon.”

When Elric finally gives up his obsession with Sasha and comes to see the value of Helle, he finds his demons put to rest.

Elric's love killed Helle's demons in The Gothic Rainbow.

Helle's love killed Elric's demons in Annwn's Maelstrom Festival.

The story comes full circle.

Speaking of the love the characters have for each other, I would be remiss in my duty if I did not show some gratitude to the characters in my real life and how they influenced the way this story came to pass. In writing The Gothic Rainbow, I thanked many influential people in my epilogue. Allow me to voice my appreciation to the following folks...

Thanks to my friend and former neighbor, Joseph Vargo of Monolith Graphics. We met thanks to The Gothic Rainbow and without getting into the long story, I can honestly say I wouldn't have been able to move to California if not for the serendipity of events which Joe inadvertently set in motion.

Thanks to fans of The Gothic Rainbow who became great friends, such as Karen Hummer, Jenn LeBlanc, Erin Ritchie, Donna Ricci, and Melissa McAdams. All ladies I wouldn't have met if not for the book. There are a lot of other great and wonderful fans from The Gothic Rainbow, but the ones I mentioned are the ones I actually hung out with.

Thanks to the bands who so graciously accepted copies of The Gothic Rainbow when I was giving it out to the many musicians who inspired the book. Artists like Henry Rollins, Toni Halliday, Siouxsie Sioux, Switchblade Symphony, Faith & The Muse, and probably one or two more that I can't recall right now.

Thanks to the freakin' rockstar Chris D'Anda at Je Jeune Salon in Hollywood for the new hairstyle in my author photo. It feels so “Los Angeles” to praise a hairdresser, but, hey, she's awesome.

Speaking of photos, thanks to all my wonderful models who posed for the photos in the back of this book. Most of these models in the photos are girls, I've adored and been friends with since they were teenagers, and now many of them are... well, a gentleman doesn't reveal a ladies age, but it does no harm to say none are teenagers anymore.

When I first set out to write this paragraph, I wanted to mention how I always regarded one of the models as one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen, and that I have had a crush on her for years. Then I realized, I should leave that out, because I'd be saying that about almost every single one of them. In no particular order, I have to give my gratitude to Erin Brutvan, who has been radiant beyond measure since the first second I saw her. Of all the girls to appear in this book, Erin is the only one who was also featured in The Gothic Rainbow. Thanks to the erotic Freddie Nova for being my favorite vampire and for being the hottest cosplaying geek in Cleveland. Thanks to the breahtaking Nicole Nield, who is one of those amazing girls that never understood just how enchanting and staggeringly beautiful she really is. Thanks to my dear friend, the gothic supermodel, Donna Ricci, whom I yearned for from the moment I saw her on comic book covers 20 years ago. Thanks to the sexiest hairdresser on earth, the ever-enchanting Michelle “Mish” Villa, for one of the most enjoyable photosessions I ever had, and for using your hairstyling wizardry to trick people into thinking an average-looking-guy like me is kind of cute. Thanks to the graceful Rose Mortem, one of the most winsome and sublime girls I have ever loved. Last but not least, thanks to the classy Catalina Cruz for being a sweet and down to earth girl, and being a joy to photograph and work with on videos, all those years ago, when we both lived in Ohio.

Incidentally, as with The Gothic Rainbow, the purpose of the photos is to express the vibe and the feel of the book. The images are not intended to depict actual characters or scenes in the story, rather to just give people a visual expression of the emotions of the tale. I never really made that clear in the first novel, I just kind of threw the photographs in there without giving any sort of explanation as to their purpose.

Now you know.

But, forgive me, I have one more person to thank.

The most important of all.

Finally, I must give my deepest thanks to my dear Phoebe Crnich, for it was her influence which completely changed this book and allowed it to be written. I never discussed the plot with Phoebe. She didn't offer suggestions. I never told her what the story was about. I still kept it all secret, as I did with The Gothic Rainbow. However, her mere presence in my life enlightened me to new ways of thinking and thanks to Phoebe, I saw Annwn's Maelstrom Festival change dramatically.

After meeting Phoebe, I realized I was all wrong.

My perception of this book was incorrect.

I thought this was a “dark fantasy” book.

It isn't.

I realized this was a lovestory.

I was not writing a dark fantasy novel.

This is a gothic romance novel.

The story is about Elric and Helle finding salvation in each other.

It's about the suicidal girl, learning she could be loved.

It's about the boy who feels nothing, learning to let go and move on.

My relationship with Phoebe taught me that. The longer Phoebe was in my life, the more elements of The Vampire Noctuaries began to evolve. I can truly say, if it wasn't for Phoebe, this book would not exist.

That's why it took me 16 years to really start writing this story.

For 16 years, my concept of what the story was about, was all wrong.

As I said before, you can't force a story.

Stories have a heartbeat. They have an organic flow which must be discovered, not engineered.

That's why I couldn't write the book for so long - because I had it all wrong. All attempts to write it before meeting Phoebe meant the story was flawed. Anything I tried, always felt forced. I was forcing it to my will, trying to make it into something it wasn't. It resisted me at every turn.

After meeting Phoebe, the real theme of this book slowly became more and more apparent to me. I gained the proper focus. Over the course of a year or two, 14 years of clouds and fog lifted, and the story suddenly became completely vivid.

I finally knew what I had to write.

I finally saw what needed to change.

Everything finally flowed effortlessly.

I finished 90% of Annwn's Maelstrom Festival in about 3 months.

The Gothic Rainbow had taken around 3 years.

Thanks to Phoebe, all the gears clicked into place. The momentum I had been seeking for over a decade began to spin all by itself. When I had the vision of Elric and Helle standing alone on the Unseelie castle ramparts in the moonlight, I knew I had the right ending.

All thanks to the inspiration of Phoebe.

She gave me the heart to write the lovestory.

She is the catalyst for my finding the proper voice for this tale.

I owe this all to her.

Phoebe contends that I would have still written this book without her, it may have just taken even longer to finish.

Perhaps.

The fact remains that she was my biggest inspiration to finally get off my butt and write it when I did, and for that I will be forever grateful.

Thank you, Phoebe.

You were the inspiration who helped Me do the impossible.

That's why this book is dedicated to you.

In my personal life, the idea of soulmates and lifetimes of devotion is the kind of romantic connection I've always dreamed of discovering. Helle and Elric are the embodiment of the chivalrous honor and commitment I have always dreamed exists, but have never personally experienced.

I don't know what it's like to be cherished that deeply. Obsessively. Passionately. No one has ever loved me with a psychotic and all-consuming desire like Helle and Elric have for each other. Perhaps experiencing such a passion simply isn't my destiny. Heck, I've never even kissed a girl who stuck around longer than 6 months. Sooner or later, everyone abandons me. Everyone gives up on me. Everyone goes away.

I know I am definitely not alone in that.

Plenty of you are in the same boat.

People care about you for a little while, but no one has ever liked you enough to remain by your side. Have they?

I know how that feels.

I know rejection.

I know abandonment.

I know nothing of enduring love.

If I can't live a steadfast loveaffair for real, I can create it on the page.

Helle and Elric share a love I have fantasized about since childhood.

Theirs is the adoration I've always imagined was possible.

Theirs is a story about the dream of being loved, coming true.

Most would call their jealous and possessive romance unhealthy and even codependent or abusive, because critics lack the aptitude to learn words beyond their armchair-psychiatrist comprehension of relationships. Helle and Elric are wrapped up in each other in a way which goes far beyond something as rudimentary and trite as overbearing codependency. Codependency isn't strong enough to encapsulate their zealotry, allegiance and reliance upon one another.

Helle and Elric are downright symbiotic.

The heartbeat of one pumps the blood of the other.

Their love lies intertwined in an elegant web of sadomasochism.

But isn't that why we all adore vampire love stories?

The idea that someone, someday, might love us and not quit.

I know. I know. “Mortal Chick Falls For Vampire Dude” is not remotely original. That's the plot of every bullshit vampire book. The staple cliche of the vampire fiction genre. That's true. I won't deny that.

I admit it, I wrote a pathetic cliche of vampire fiction.

However, as I said before, the appeal is not in the story but in the telling. Hopefully you found the telling compelling.

Although the basis of the fiction may be a cliche, the world Helle comes from is 1000% real and not a cliche at all. The endless teen angst, and the dark magic, and pagan fascinations, and wiccan enchantments, and gothic nightclubs, and ouija boards in bedrooms, and punkrock girls being sent to psychiatric wards, and all of those things are not fiction. That's all very real stuff that I lived through and witnessed and experienced first hand. The vampires are fiction. The settings are fact. Some of the weirdest characters and situations and conversations in The Vampire Noctuaries are based upon real events. Heck, even most of the epic 1991 Lollapalooza concert at Blossom Music Center happened just like I described... without the embellishment of vampires, of course.

So, if you spent your teen years in a world which was nothing like this story, you might think these elements of the tale are just a fictional cliche. I assure you, it's all based on a very strong reality.

For example, a critic of The Gothic Rainbow once complained of how awful and shallow the dialog was in that book. He failed to understand, that dialog was deliberate! Those trite and shallow conversations were quite intentional! Clearly, he had never been a college-aged clubkid like me. Many conversations in the novel were lifted from real conversations! Yes, it was often trivial and meaningless fodder. That's what our nighclubbing world is really like!

There are many “real” elements in The Vampire Noctuaries.

Strange to think it has taken so long to write this sequel, since I had a lot of reality to base it upon.

Life did gets a bit busy after that first book though.

A lot has happened since finishing The Gothic Rainbow.

Started working my first fulltime job.

Became an expert Internet developer for international companies.

Both of my grandparents passed away.

Learned to ride motorcycles.

Owned 3 cars and 2 motorcycles (not all at the same time).

Became a licensed hang gliding pilot.

Crewed an Academy Award nominated film (American Splendor).

Had my photography showcased in multiple art galleries.

Moved into my first apartment. And second, third, fourth and fifth.

Taught myself to skateboard in pools.

Ended up getting laid off from 6 different companies.

Ended up getting laid by more than 6 girl -... nevermind that one...

Drove solo across America.

Relocate to California with no job and nowhere to live.

Wrote and directed an award-nominated short film.

Wrote three other books.

Contributed to (and published in) two anthologies.

Founded a line of bikini-model skateboards.

Lived with two different girlfriends.

Lived with two different female roommates.

Worked for many years at Walt Disney Studios.

I was even recognized by (and briefly dated) my first gothgirl fan.

Yes, much has happened since completing The Gothic Rainbow. All of those things contributed to why the writing of this tale took so long.

I like to think I learned a lot and my writing has improved.

What have I learned in that time?

What education have I gained about the rules of writing?

Years ago, I heard a “rule” for writing fiction which says:

“You can not break the laws of your own universe.”

I adore and agree with that sentiment.

In other words, a storyteller can invent whatever outlandish story they desire, but as soon as you establish rules for how your world works, you must adhere to them. Once you start breaking the laws of your own universe, the audience loses all interest in the tale. There must be a consistency to your world, no matter how strange it becomes. There doesn't even need to be “logic” to the rules per se, but things must remain coherent.

For example, there is no such thing as a time machine, but when you makebelieve one exists and you establish it requires 1.21 gigawatts of electricity in order to engage the time circuits, you must maintain that rule throughout the duration of your story.

The time machine power requirements are arbitrary. Who cares what they happen to be? As a fictional construct, you can make it whatever you want! Doesn't matter. But, once you establish that construct, it may not be altered without cause.

You can invent whatever fantastical universe your imagination can dream up, but once you tell the audience how stuff works, you must stick to it. You can't go changing the rules you establish.

Vampires from folklore and literature follow many different rules in many different stories and cultures. Some of the rules I have established and followed for The Vampire Noctuaries are as follows:

1. Sunlight kills them. Period. I'm not interested in vampire stories where they walk around in daylight. That's stupid. What an utterly idiotic concept. Vampires are Creatures of the Night. End of story. If the sun is out, they are not. Part of the most vital symbolism of vampirism stems from being forced to never see sunlight. You can't have a scary or convincing vampire running around at the drugstore buying sunscreen. You've lost all the romantic tragedy of “endless night” if you allow them to be daywalkers.

2. Vampires do not need to sleep buried in their native soil. That doesn't even make any sense. Why would they need a specific kind of dirt? To what purpose? What about vampires entombed in a crypt? What about a vampire buried at sea? They have no dirt to be buried in. No, the “native soil” aspect of vampire myth is totally illogical. Makes no sense. Crazy old wives tale. They do need to be sheltered from all sunlight, but not buried in a coffin.

3. They possess superhuman strength and agility and healing and all that. Pretty standard fair there.

4. They can't reproduce or have babies. That's another dumb concept. Vampires are undead and enchanted beings. Animated corpses. Because they are supernatural/magical, the only bodily fluid they have is blood. Both male and female vampires still can ejaculate during sexual intercourse, but it's blood that comes out, not semen or mucus. Even their tears are blood. How can they have children? Vampire sperm? Vampire eggs? Do vampire chicks still get their periods? No. See, vampires bearing offspring is moronic. Dead girls can't have babies. Duh.

5. Holy water, wooden stakes through the heart, crosses and garlic have no effect. Those are myths too. Holy water burns a little, like rubbing alcohol. But that's it. Why on earth would they hate garlic? Silly. A stake though the heart is going to hurt like hell, but it won't kill them. Beheading will kill the vampire, but it's near impossible to cut through their neck or dismember them, due to their superhuman strength and lightning-quick regenerative healing powers. No mortal has the strength to swing a sword or an axe hard enough to behead a vampire. Sure, such a blow might cut the vampire, but it would never be enough to sever the head. Again, pointing out the absurdity of this myth comes from horrible vampire stories where vampires are established as massively powerful beings, and the next thing you know, some junior-highschool chick pulls out a steak-knife and nearly beheads the vampire. Awful. All of these “weaknesses” are a load of crap. Although, vampires do dislike to cross running water. All dark creatures have an aversion to running water. Everyone instinctively knows that. That truth is part of the collective unconscious of all humanity.

6. They have reflections. Another myth to say they don't. But they do have difficulty seeing their own personal reflections. A vampire can see the reflection of another vampire, no problem. But seeing their own is often difficult to discern. This is, in theory, because vampires never wish to see what they have become.

7. Vampires and werewolves and faeries and angels and demons and zombies and all these “supernatural” creatures are the same thing. The Children of the Night are one in the same. There isn't actually any difference between them. Humans, in their ignorance and fear of the supernatural, have come to call the dark beings by different names. The truth is, they are no different. There is only one Creature of the Night. Depending upon which facets of its powers it wishes to manifest, humans see it as “vampire” or “werewolf” or “devil” or “faerie”, but it is all the identical kind of being.

8. They must feed on living human blood to survive. Not dogs. Not cats. Not family pets. Not bunnies or deer or grizzly bears. Not bags of blood from a bloodbank. People. Alive. There are no vampires running around feeding on animals because they feel “guilty” for hunting people. Give me a break. That's freakin' stupid. Creatures of Darkness, remember? They aren't feeling guilt or remorse. There's no such thing as a vegan vampire.

9. Failing to drink blood will make them weak and powerless and corpse-like, but they will never die. They just end up looking like your anorexic aunt without a suntan. Not a pretty picture.

10. Vampires are The Living Dead and therefore preserved in a deathlike state at the moment of their death. If they cut their hair, for example, it grows back in one day while they sleep. If you are turned into a vampire and you're already bald, I guess you're out of luck. This also means a vampire can't get a tattoo. Again, if you were already a tattooed mortal at the moment you were turned into a vampire, then your tattoos would remain. But any attempt to get new tattoos afterwards would simply vanish when the vampire awakens the next night. Mortally-received tattoos stay. Vampirically-received tattoos disappear.

11. Vampires can heal almost any wounds by licking - that's how they feed in secret and victims don't know they were attacked by a vampire. None of this “bite marks on the neck” nonsense. If vampires always left bite wounds on every victim, don't you think vampires would be getting caught left and right? Of course they would! So, vampires have the capability to easily “hide their tracks” as it were. Not unless the vampire chooses to leave the marks - which would be kind of stupid for the vampire to leave such evidence around, but, hey, to each his own.

12. As one of the major plotpoints of the entire story, vampires can alter human memories, so they remember things very differently. Some key elements of events must be similar, but in the end, everything gets a bit hazy.

13. Despite being evil and having no remorse about feeding on humans, most vampires never kill their quarry. They can murder if they wish, but it's rather frowned upon in vampiric culture as being in poor taste (no pun intended). Again, this stems from pure logic. Vampires feed on human blood. Therefore, the more humans alive in the world, the more blood there is, the more food there is. You don't go killing the only source of your food. You don't milk a cow, then murder it. Do humans eat all the apples off an apple tree, then chop the tree down? Of course not. That would be stupid. You keep the tree alive in order to produce more apples. Vampires keep humans alive to produce more blood. They rarely kill people.

14. Vampires don't need to breathe to survive, but they must breathe in order to speak. Again, simple logic. The vocal chords must still vibrate in order to produce sound - therefore breathing is required to talk, even though they can't “die” from lack of air.

15. To create a vampire, a mortal must first be drained of all their blood. When this happens, they will not die immediately. Since their blood was drained by a supernatural being, the human will remain in a coma-like state of suspended-animation for a few minutes. If left alone, they will die very quickly. If the vampire cuts himself and thereby gives the mortal a taste of vampiric blood, the mortal will begin to involuntarily drink. When the vampire sire is nearly drained of all their blood, the mortal becomes a vampire too. If a mortal ever drinks vampire blood without being drained first, they become a “revenant” and possess immortality, but none of the other strengths or weaknesses of vampires. This is why revenants are often used as servants, to care for and guard vampires during the day. Again, this story idea stemmed from simple logic - vampires are exceptionally vulnerable during the day, so it stands to reason they would need servants to do their bidding. Although they have no other powers, promising people immortality is a pretty good incentive to encourage some devoted servants. As implied in the story, some revenants know what they are, while others are tricked into thinking they are full vampires and have no clue.

16. Vampires can read minds and enter dreams and change their physical form. Mostly they appear as smoke, or shadow, or wolves, or dark faerie beings. Some vampires are stronger than others and are thereby better able to perform various magical feats than others. Their ability to shapeshift goes back to the idea of humans “mislabeling” supernatural creatures and never fully understanding the powers such beings possess. Since my vampires are also tied in close to faerie mythology, the idea is that the otherworldy denizens of faerie are also linked to the vampires strength and abilities. For example, this is why Shamus reveals so much information to Helle in Los Angeles. Back at the Unseelie Estate, because of all the powers Camillia was connected with, such a conversation would have been sensed by Camillia. Out in California, where it is established that there is little faerie-presence, Camillia couldn't detect such a conversation as easily. Thus, in Los Angeles, Shamus was able to be more forthcoming without fear of retribution.

17. Vampires don't exactly “control the world” although they could if they wanted to. Like I said, I wanted to make this story realistic, if vampires were real. That concept got me to start thinking about their influence over humanity and all the conspiracy theorists who believe in secret societies. After all, wouldn't vampires be the ultimate “secret society” if they were real? Then I realized, that's kind of a stupid pile of bullshit. Vampires regard themselves as Gods. Vampires would never seek to rule mankind. They don't need to. Only human beings are primitive and petty enough to have any desire for the power which comes from political or financial superiority. Vampires can alter memories and change the perceptions of reality in human beings. Why would immortal creatures of such immense power waste their time with anything as trivial as mortal wealth? Vampires exist on a plane far beyond the laughable and worthless power struggles of mankind. Vampires perceive themselves so superior to man, they would never bother with human concerns. They would never waste their time “dominating” or “ruling” or “enslaving” humanity anymore than humans would yearn to enslave fleas. Humans simply aren't worth the effort, even for passing entertainment.

18. Vampires can't eat normal food. Again, they can change mortal minds into thinking they see a vampire eating at the local diner, but they aren't really eating. Vampires can chew ordinary food, but if they attempt to swallow it, the result is almost like an allergic reaction - their throat just swells closed and swallowing becomes impossible. Some stronger vampires can swallow normal food, but they pretty much vomit it right back up as soon as it hits the stomach. The vomit contains a lot of blood too, naturally. Again, vampires have no stomach acid.

19. To reiterate, vampires see themselves as Gods. For all intents and purposes, they are right. They are superior to humans in every way. They view humans as lower lifeforms. That is why all the pronouns for vampires are capitalized. When the vampires make reference to their human past, the pronouns are still lowercase, because they were among the mortals and thereby inferior. Once they “evolved” to immortality, they become worthy of capitalizing the pronouns. When writing of oneself, the pronoun “I” is always capitalized and most religions (especially the Messianic ones) always capitalize the pronouns of their gods. Why wouldn't vampires do the same? When in a group which is a mix of mortals and vampires, the pronouns remain lowercase, because humans are never worthy of being elevated to a vampiric status. I'm explaining this rule because I thought the “We are better than humans” attitude was quite self-evident, but some critics of the first novel were actually confused by the pronoun thing. The funniest aspect was people who complained that it was confusing. These are godlike vampires - they don't care if you're confused!

20. Teen vampires don't attend highschool. Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of mindless bullshit is that? Why the hell would an immortal creature of darkness need to go to school? Fucking retarded.

Okay, I've rambled on far too long.

Let me wrap this up.

Finishing this novel is an enormous milestone for me.

As I said at the beginning, The Vampire Noctuaries were always intended to be a single book. Consequently, I never felt The Gothic Rainbow was a true “accomplishment” because in my heart, the story was never complete. I never felt like I had truly “finished” writing a novel. Deep inside, I felt I had only written half of one.

With the completion of Annwn's Maelstrom Festival, I sincerely feel I've achieved something. Now I feel justified in wearing the mantle of “storyteller” and entitled to truly call myself a novelist.

There were times when I truly worried that I'd never write it.

My life had become much more bright and positive and joyous. I mean, heck, eventually I was living in California, skateboarding everyday, living with a 20-year-old fashion-model girlfriend, and working for Walt Disney! Life truly couldn't get much more cheerful and fulfilling. Things were sweet! All my dreams come true. Could I return to that world of darkness and vampires? Why would I want to? Why spend all those hours with Helle and Elric and the midnight dreary of the Unseelie Estate?

Life was puppydogs and rainbows.

Why go back to the dark forest?

All it took was losing the girl and the job.

Suddenly, going back to the dark DuBois gardens and sitting by the fountains for awhile didn't seem so hard after all.

There was a familiar and comforting warmth to these shadows.

They weren't so bleak after all.

Helle started whispering to me.

Next thing I knew, I had some more story to tell and enough time on my hands to tell it.

Even though I was spending more time in kneepads and skateparks than in ruffle shirts and goth clubs, there was no denying that the shadows are still a part of me. There's still a dark side in there. Sometimes the shadows just slumber dormant for awhile.

Until the right moment...

Much like in Lord Of The Rings, “The Ring Of Power perceived, it's time had come...”

So arose this tale of wooded darkness and bleak winters, whilst my life evolved into a realm of sunshine and ocean mists and palm trees. Los Angeles is a great place to write though. As the characters say in this story, the land is very old and very quiet here. There are no voices on the wind. This is where you come for solitude and silence.

Within that, I found the voice of this story.

Nevertheless, telling tales with no audience is a useless waste of time.

Therefore, I want to end this epilogue just as I began - by reiterating once again how sincerely grateful I am to you for reading this story. Like I said before, I write for me, but I publish for you.

I must therefore reserve my deepest gratitude to you.

Thank you for reading my book.

I truly hope you enjoyed reading it.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, my dear reader.

Novel Written From: 31 May 1996 until 27 January 2013

Epilogue Written On: 29 January 2013

Biography

Although born in 1971, Eric Muss-Barnes was raised by the 1940's swingkid generation. His maternal grandparents, with their youth spent during the era of WWII, brought Eric up in Cleveland, Ohio - the Rock 'N' Roll Capital of the World.

Eric has worked as a stand-in (for the stunt coordinator of The Crow) on a martial arts film, and as a freelance artist for the toy design division of American Greetings. He has crewed on an Academy Award nominated feature (look for him in the credits of American Splendor), and written, directed and produced an award-nominated, critically-acclaimed short-film entitled The Unseelie Court, which was screened in numerous film festivals across the country and is available on DVD. His writing has been published in numerous magazines around the world, such as Outburn and IndustrialnatioN, and within multiple anthologies, such as Tales From The Dark Tower and The Skateboarder's Journal - Lives on Board, while his professional photography has been exhibited and sold in art galleries from Ohio to Hollywood. His second book, entitled Schooling Your Boss To Not Suck, regales amusing tales of unfortunate managers at various jobs he's held over the years. Originally entitled In This Harsh World... Draw Thy Breath In Pain, he has composed and published a tongue-in-cheek book of poetry retitled Forever Loving You. Other career highlights are featured in his vocational autobiography How You Can Get a Job at Walt Disney Studios Without a College Degree, which outlines his entire professional life until being hired at Disney, where he developed Internet technology for over half-a-dozen years.

Beyond his artistic endeavors, Eric has been an avid freestyle BMX rider, snowboarder, mountain biker, equestrian and bodyboarder. With dozens of solo hours of flight time, he is a certified Hang 2 pilot with an aerotow rating in the United States Hang Gliding Association, and involved in medieval martial arts with the Society for Creative Anachronism. He is also a passionate motorcyclist (Eric doesn't even own a car - he prefers a bike) having organized multiple grouprides in the mountains of Southern California. Eric has remained a fairly diehard skateboarder for decades, riding skateparks and pools all around Los Angeles, creating the revolutionary educational video DVD entitled Learn To Ride A Skateboard with Holly Lyons, who was, at the time, ranked the top woman skater in the world. His various skateboarding videos have accumulated well over 1.5 million viewers on the Internet. Combining two passions, Eric also released a successful line of skateboard decks featuring his photography of bikini models, called California Girls Skateboards.

Eric lives and works in Hollywood where, now and then, he still finds the time to dance for hours on end at alternative and underground nightclubs, just like he did when writing his first novel, The Gothic Rainbow: Beginning Volume of the Vampire Noctuaries.

Annwn's Maelstrom Festival is Eric's fifth book and second novel.

Colophon

Printed Edition Colophon

• HP Pavilion dm3t Notebook PC (3GB RAM / 160GB SSD)

• Windows 7 Professional 64-Bit OS

The original manuscript was composed entirely on a solid-state laptop computer system, unlike The Gothic Rainbow, which was first written by hand, with pen and paper, then retyped. Took a bit of self-discipline to become comfortable with writing a novel on a computer, but I grew used to it.

• EmEditor Professional 4.13

• Open Office 3.2.0

Plain text was edited using EmEditor. Main text was composed in the format of the final layout in Open Office. Once I became acclimated to authoring on a computer, this was a much easier process than retyping.

• Macromedia FreeHand 10

• Adobe Photoshop CS2

This edition of the book used FreeHand for the title page logo. The cover was designed in Photoshop, from photographs I took of an antique 1820 book cover, which I purchased in a used bookstore in Los Angeles.

• Apple Mac Mini 2.26GHz Intel Core 2 Duo

• Macintosh OS 10.6.2

• Font Lab 4.5

• Fonts: Palatino Roman, Caslon Antique, Noctuary

With the conclusion of The Vampire Noctuaries, I found myself unsatisfied with the Palatino font used in the original print-run of The Gothic Rainbow. Preferring the aesthetics of curled punctuation in Times New Roman, I used Font Lab 4.5 to change the standard Palatino font to use the comma (,) apostrophe (') and quotes (“”) from Times New Roman - this new font variation, I named Palatino Roman. Caslon Antique is used on the headers and Noctuary is used on the cover for the title.

eBook Editions Colophon

• HP Vostro 400 Desktop PC

• Windows XP Professional OS

The eBook editions were created on a desktop computer, converted from the original Open Office .ODT files.

• EmEditor Professional 4.13

• WinZip 9.0

In order to make the book available to readers digitally, the original Open Office .ODT files were rebuilt as an .EPUB file. Being a programmer, I engineered and constructed the .EPUB files by hand - coding all of the CSS, XHTML, OPF and NCX files in a plain text editor. Once that was complete, I used WinZip to package my .EPUB file which was then quadruple-validated against the four test programs epubcheck 3.0, epubpreflight 0.1.0, Sigil 0.6.2, and Flight Crew 0.7.2.

• Kindlegen 2.7

Using the command-line utility KindleGen, I converted my .EPUB file into .MOBI format for sale and distribution on Amazon and other .MOBI-based eReader systems.

Poster Catalog

Photography & Digital Manipulation Copyright © 1996-2013 Eric Muss-Barnes
All Rights Reserved

Books authored by novelist
Eric Muss-Barnes
www.EricMuss-Barnes.com

Voodoo & Loveshadow
by Eric Muss-Barnes

Ever since he was a little boy, Rusty Stratford always believed he was destined for great things. Now, with his 40th birthday fast approaching, Rusty is starting to suspect he might only be destined for mediocre things. A bachelor with few family members and fewer friends, life hasn’t quite panned out the way Rusty hoped it would, and he’s beginning to resign himself to being alone and unimportant.

All that changes the night he meets the precocious ghosts of his unborn twin daughters, Isabeau and Oona. Quickly, he comes to discover the universe is a strange brew of fate and happenstance wherein Isabeau and Oona only have a small window of time during which their spirits can be born. Can the little girls help their father find the woman destined to become their mom? Or will Isabeau and Oona miss their chance to exist?

If you squandered decades of your life awaiting “one true love” who never arrived, if dreaming of an idyllic “soulmate” kept you alive through your darkest hours and they didn’t show up, this magical tale will comfort your heartache of missed chances and abandonment with an empathy like you’ve never known. Voodoo & Loveshadow kindles hope in the loneliest of hearts, assuring when the world has given you up for dead, you may still conjure reasons for life, love and laughter to prevail...

The Gothic Rainbow: Beginning Volume of The Vampire Noctuaries
by Eric Muss-Barnes

Helle Tompkins has reached the end of her days as an outcast, suburban teenager. Ever since her beloved father killed himself, and they released Helle from the mental hospital for trying to join him, she’s been in a place where her pain is far deeper than high school melodrama.

No more hiding behind black lipstick and a mohawk. Now she’s playing with pagan charms, Wiccan rites, and the scrying sorcery of her Ouija board. It’s the perfect distraction until she summons the attention of a charming and sinister faerie prince. A seductive spirit lurking in the shadows of treebranches shimmering upon her walls, he may be something much more horrible than he claims.

Will she succumb to bewitching promises and find salvation in his cruel embrace, or will his own agonizing secrets draw Helle into even deeper heartbreak?

“...The Gothic Rainbow by Eric Muss-Barnes is, frankly, one of the most absorbing novels that I have read in quite some time. ... I’ve found the book well worth my time, and I hope you will give it a shot. ... At the end, I think you will agree that Eric Muss-Barnes will be a name to watch...”
- Christopher T. Miller, Book Stacks Unlimited

“... The Gothic Rainbow gives solace and escape for those who feel trapped in a messed-up world full of heartaches and misunderstandings. There is plenty of sex and violence to stimulate, but it’s the delicate beauty and passionate writing of this novel that will touch your soul ...”
- Octavia, Outburn Magazine

“... if you’ve ever listened to The Cure in the dark, danced to The Dead Milkmen, lost a loved one, hung out with skaters, hated your parents or hated preppies, or if anyone’s ever called you a “freak,” I think you’ll find a little of yourself in this book. Its honest representation of this subculture - from the music to the fashion - is spun throughout the web of fantasy ...”
- Cynthia Conlin, Implosion Magazine

“... it’s quite a page-turner, with lots of shocking vampiric escapades. This book, on the whole, is extremely well-written with a wonderful poetic style. I’m glad I didn’t let the slow start scare me off ...”
-Susan Moon, The Nocturnal Lyric

“... One aspect of the writing that I appreciated is that the author uses different styles of writing throughout this novel. Muss-Barnes excels in his literary descriptions of buildings, character dress, and dreams. ... the choice of words and inflection of mood hit dead on at what I anticipated I would find when I first picked up the book ...”
-Dan O., IndustrialnatioN

“... Eric effectively blends elements from different genres and literary styles in a duet between mortals and Fey. Highly unique, believable characters, and a musical playlist to boot! I found the book compelling and charming (in a twisted way), and would gladly read the book again ...”
- Chelsea, Thistle Magazine

“... I’m utterly mystified that this book worked as well as it did for me. It’s written for readers with a firm grasp of the Goth subculture (I don’t qualify); it doesn’t attempt to have a plot as such; and the vampires are hopelessly larger-than-life, with their expensive cars, outrageous acts of violence, and nonstop scorn for mortals. (In fact, the vampires consider themselves so godlike that pronouns referring to them are capitalized, a typographical idiosyncrasy that I found rather disconcerting.) Perhaps the book’s appeal lies in the sheer honesty of the narrative. ... Self-serving but sincere, The Gothic Rainbow is definitely worth checking out ... I know that’s a strange kind of thumbs-up, but The Gothic Rainbow is a strange kind of book. It’s certainly not for everyone. ... It is a book of dreams and fantasies, power and pain, and bittersweet Goth-flavored wish fulfillment ...”
- Catherine B. Krusberg, Sphere Fantasy Online

Annwn’s Maelstrom Festival: Concluding Volume of The Vampire Noctuaries
by Eric Muss-Barnes

Fetishes claw inside of you. Ones you dare never admit. Desires you could never reveal. Claims of being free of all their taboos has never made you stop fearing your own carnal wants... For none could ever endure your passions and live.

Whips and chains are for prudes.

Fangs. Talons. Blood of full moons. The darkest hungers never die. Tell us the tale of your lusts. Succumb to the story of your deviance.

Or pretend this isn’t you at all. Wonder how far burns the flame, but fear to melt the wax. No matter. We have you eternal. Wondering. Wanting. Trapped with no escape from the blackest scenarios you envision.

Know no remorse. Submit to this dread sensuality.

Mock my every word, for still, this is you.

There is a vampire legend within us all. You have felt it for years. Yearned to hear of it. To read of it. See it in a tangible form. Live it. Hungered. And yet no one has ever even spoken of it. No one has ever given that saga a voice... Until now...

This is the myth of the vampire as you have always dreamed it should be told. The one we have all secretly shared, but never expressed.

Hear how she wants every boy and girl?

The dawn of eternal night has come.

More than 17 years in the making, Annwn’s Maelstrom Festival is the long-awaited conclusion to The Gothic Rainbow. When you thought the shadows could become no darker, Annwn’s Maelstrom Festival: Concluding Volume Of The Vampire Noctuaries takes you further into the tale of Elric and Helle DuBois. Told from Helle’s perspective, the story picks up where The Gothic Rainbow: Beginning Volume of The Vampire Noctuaries ended. We learn the true motives of Camillia, and the mystery of mortals played as Pawns, in centuries-old Killing Games, by the insidious DuBois sisters.

The secrets grow deeper. The passion becomes stronger. The fury knows no limits. There is far more to Elric and Helle than they have ever dreamed. Welcome to Annwn’s Obsidian Sideshow & Maelstrom Festival, where the love of Elric and Helle will cause dominions to fall and tragedy and death be left in their wake.

How You Can Get a Job at Walt Disney Studios Without a College Degree
by Eric Muss-Barnes

Working for Walt Disney is a childhood dream, shared by millions of people, from all across the world. Since the founding of the studios in 1923, only a small fraction of individuals have ever experienced the bliss of making that dream coming true.

After working at the illustrious Studio for more than 6 years, author Eric Muss-Barnes shares his story of how that wish-upon-a-star came true for him, starting from humble beginnings in a bluecollar family in Ohio.

Told with warmth and humor, you learn every job, every experience, every career move he made. Starting from his childhood paper route during Cleveland blizzards, he explains how he journeyed all the way to sitting with Minnie Mouse, as a Cast Member, at the Disney Studio lot, on a warm Summer day.

How You Can Get a Job at Walt Disney Studios Without a College Degree is not merely about landing a job at Disney. Rather, it’s a tale regaling every trial and tribulation which lead Eric to Los Angeles, told in the hopes of inspiring you to continue the pursuit of your own dreams, whatever they may be.

You still have time to make your dream come true too. It’s never too late.

As Jiminy Cricket promised, if your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme...

The Page of Wands
by Eric Muss-Barnes

Legend has it, an ancient walking staff, known as “The Wand”, first presented itself to old widow McCreadle, along with The Three Rules.

1. You may use the magic wand for 3 days.
2. You may only use it in your profession.
3. You must secretly bequeath it to an anonymous stranger.

As the power of The Wand is entrusted from one Los Angeles resident to the next, randomly falling into the hands of noble and corrupt citizens alike, the city is brought to both bliss and ruin. But, when things finally spiral out of control in neighborhoods infested with aliens, dragons, dinosaurs, and superheroes, can a misfit group of townspeople set the world right again, before The Wand must be passed on once more?

Grandpa Steiner Saves the World (from Illegal Aliens (from Space))
by Eric Muss-Barnes

Grandpa Steiner offends everyone. He doesn’t mean to. It just happens. During his youth, his attitudes were commonplace and perfectly acceptable. As the conventions of society change around him, and more and more of his opinions become derided as obsolete, Grandpa Steiner decides to start a blog, to vent his frustrations upon the Internet.

Little does Grandpa Steiner know, when a race of space aliens secretly decide to obliterate mankind, they regard his blog as the only redeeming quality of humanity. Grandpa Steiner inadvertently causes the aliens to reconsider, thereby sparing the world from annihilation.

But when his popular essays cause a media backlash and his family convinces Grandpa Steiner to stop his politically incorrect rants, will the prevailing “culture of damn sissies” spell doom for the Earth?

Schooling Your Boss To Not Suck
by Eric Muss-Barnes

Schooling Your Boss to not Suck takes a fun and sarcastic journey into tales of horrible bosses. There are countless books on improving the workplace, but nothing quite like this.

Is your boss a supervillain? Need a superhero to straighten him out? Instead of being written by another stuffy “expert”, author Eric Muss-Barnes (who barely squeaked out of high school, let alone finished college), offers a lighthearted slant on leadership from the viewpoint of the common worker.

True stories. Real experiences. No silly parables here, folks. No “puppydogs and rainbows” like those other motivational books. Just genuine events of piss and vinegar from the American middleclass workplace.

Eric is just an Average Joe, like yourself, telling it like it is. If your boss sincerely wants to learn how to motivate and inspire the people, it’s time the boss stopped listening to other leaders and started listening to what regular people like you have to say. It’s time someone stood tall, whipped off those mild-mannered glasses, and schooled your boss on how to not suck!

Forever Loving You
by Eric Muss-Barnes

Years ago, after author Eric Muss-Barnes had the cover photo for this book taken, a friend ridiculed him and said, “Who do you think you are, Michael Bolton? This looks like a cover for an album of rock ballads. ’Eric Muss-Barnes, Forever Loving You!’” Twenty years later, instead of an album cover, it became a book cover for a compilation of cheesy lovepoems.