-January 12, Los Angeles CA-

The bell rings, it’s deep, loud and shakes the entire building letting us know it’s six am.  I roll over in the bed and look at the thick wooden door at the end of the room.  Other girls are already shuffling in their beds at the noise.  The nun’s expects us to be up and fresh ten minutes after the bells or its no breakfast.

I moan and keep my eye on that door.  The damn thing is dead bolted from the other side and the two windows we get overlooking the courtyard have some serious steel bars over them.  They say it’s to protect us but I know that’s bullshit, this place is as good a as a prison.  “Sarah, you up?” a head pops down from above me.  Yes I’m up, who the hell could sleep through that noise?

Above is some girl called Arnie, she’s completely brainwashed by this place and seriously thinks that God will come save her ass from the nightmares, she prays all day and follows around the nuns like a duckling following its mother.  All I can do is plan my escape from this nightmare.  An escape which is proving difficult.  Not only do they lock us in at night but the courtyard is all fenced off and they only open it once or twice a day. 

Five minutes, most the girls have stumbled out of their beds and to the bathroom.  This is bullshit.  I can’t believe my mom would leave me here, I can’t believe she would even think of taking me here.  So the therapist didn’t go so well, lock me up in a church.  What the hell is that supposed to do?  Maybe God will teach me that what I saw was only my imagination?  Not going to buy it, I know what I saw.

I flip my feet over the bed just as the deadbolt opens.  The horrible woman known as Mother Orartha peels into the room, the entire room does this slide as I stand up slowly, rub my eyes and yawn.  When my yawn finishes and my vision clears I see every girl expect me standing straight up with their hands behind their backs.  Mother Orartha of course notices I’m not in form with the rest of the girls.  She glides over to me like a shark to its prey and lifts her palm over her head.  She draws her hand down with the speed of a lightning bolt and strikes across my face.

I hardly prevent myself from stumbling over and readjust my body into a straight stance.  Tears pool up in my eyes and I could feel my face turning pink.  I stare straight ahead refusing to make eye contact with the Nun or show any weakness.  I’m going to kill her.  I’m going to kill this bitch. “You will stand at attention when I enter,” the woman growls, “ladies!” She does a sharp spin and shows her back to me, “March.” 

Mother Orartha goes for the door and in a single file line ordered by how close our beds are to the front the twelve girls trapped in here march after.  This shit should be illegal, it probably is illegal, but who are we going to tell?  We have no access to the outside world and it’s our parents who put us in here.  No one watches the church.  The Mother marches us down a long narrow hall to the staircase at the end.  We go down the spiral stone stairs to the bottom floor. 

We aren’t allowed to go into the main hall of the church for fear we may be seen by visitors and instead turn down several staff access tunnels to get to a dingy dining hall.  This room, though they try to suit it up as old as possible, is merely a redesigned rectangular room with four long tables and a single lamp hanging over the center.  The lamp hardly gives enough light and most the light comes from the shadows of modern windows covered with drapes to hide us from the outside.  This most certainly isn’t legal.

Breakfast.  I look down at the dirty plate, suspecting that they’ve never really been cleaned; rather the church scrapes the food off and puts more on for the next meal.  On either side of the plate are a knife, spoon, and fork.  We get two forks during lunch and dinner and have to eat like proper ladies.  Whatever that means.

I watch the other girls take seats and fold their hands properly in front of them.  We have to wait like this until the Nun decides to put hardly enough food on each of our plates before she forces one of the girls to recite a prayer, which we better have memorized or she brings out the stick to whack us with.

Even now I see Mother Orartha retrieve her stick and twiddle with it in her hands, keeping a close eye on me.  She’s already figured out the trouble makers of the group and seems to exclusively hound over them.  Mother Yellda enters the room.  She’s dressed in all white and unlike Mother Orartha has yet to hit any of the girls.  A lot of the girls like this woman over the latter but I feel she’s just as dirty as the first, she just keeps her hands clean by ordering others to beat us.

I cross my fingers and look down at the silverware; the worn metal has seen better days and was probably donated to the church after years of use.  The knife fascinates me the most.  The ridges on it were once upon a time more defined but have been worn nearly smooth.  Yet the tip of it had this odd sharpness as if it was recently shaved into a fine blade.  This makes no sense since we have no use of sharp knives for whatever shitty porridge they are most certainly going to feed us. 

My focus leaves the Nuns and I reach out for the knife, sliding it slowly off the table.  I could get my revenge right now; I could probably do it with this weapon.  The knife doesn’t even glisten as I press it against my skin.  I look at my left wrist and see and a streak across it as if I had been cut.  But I don’t remember getting that cut, I don’t remember do thing.  I push the blade against my right arm harder and harder then slowly slide it.

The skin on my arm splits open and red covers it.  I crunch my teeth and slide the knife deeper and deeper until the blood runs off my arm and onto the gray dress I’m forced to wear here.  “Sarah!”  A voice snaps causing my eyes to shoot up.  Mother Orartha is standing right in front of me with her stick raised above her head.  I straighten my back and scoot my chair forward, keeping my hands and the knife under the table.  I feel the blood running down my arm and pooling up on my lap but I don’t show any sign of that to the Nun.

“Where are your hands Miss?” her voice is stern.  I know she wants me to put them out on the table so she can smack them with her stick.  I keep them under the table.  It hurts, but I smile as I feel the blood reach my leg and run down my stockings.  “Put them on the table!”

“Yes Ma’am.” I respond, slowly bringing one hand up.  After a few second I raise the other, bloody knife in my grasps and the mess running down to my elbow and off it.  Her stick lowers as she looks down at the large gash.  Other girls gasp while I smile and this time keep my eyes trained on hers.  I feel nausea and a bit of dizziness but don’t look at the wound. 

Her stick drops and she reaches over the table for me, “Oh my Lord!” She grabs the cloth napkin from under my fork and covers the wound, “Come here my child,” she pulls me around the table and directs me to hold the napkin over the wound.  Neither one of us realize I still have the knife tight in my hand as she leads me out of the dining room.  The cloth doesn’t appear to be enough as she pulls me outside and takes a phone out from under her garments.  She dials a number and puts it to her ear, “Yes, I have a young lady with a knife wound, yes, it’s pretty bad.  No, the bleeding has not stopped…  She’s still conscious…  We have pressure on it… Saint Gelbortars Holy Church, you know where it is?  Okay.  We’ll be outside.”

That easy.  It is really that easy to get out.  “What in the world were you thinking?  Was this an accident?  How did this happen?”

I look up at the Nun, who suddenly cares about me, “No.”

“No, what do you mean?” She asks while pulling me through the courtyard and to the front gate, which is currently opened.

“That’s what she did, the one that saved me.  See?”  I lift up my wrist.  I know she sees the scar on my palm from a week ago, but that’s not what I’m showing her.  I’m showing the healed gash across the wrist my savior must have created. 

She pulls me through the gates, outside are about half a dozen trees leading up to a street.  The trees hide the walls pretty well and shroud the church and its old structure from the modern world just half a block away.   I tighten the knife in my hand and point it at the Nun.  I do one quick jab at her.  I’m not sure what I hit but she buckles forward and lets go of my shoulder.  When she does I don’t even think, I drop the knife and run.  I run to the street and when I get to the street I look two directions, deciding the one towards the mountains and the wilderness is much better than the dense city closer to the ocean.

There is no plan, I just run.  I run until the blood dries.  I run until the napkin falls off and until my legs can’t carry me any further.  I run until the nausea is too much and I have to slip into someone’s front yard and hop the fence.  I look frantically around for some place to hide.  I see a screen door.  I press on the knob.  It’s unlocked.  I open the door and slip into the house, going quiet as I cross inside.

There’s noise in the distance.  I creep slowly forward until I find myself in a living room.  Brown shag carpet is below me and the walls are covered in photos of a family of four, mom dad, and two daughters—one black, obviously not part of the all-white family.  There’s a leather couch in front of me, but I see no one is on it.  The TV is just on, but no one seems to be home.  I look up at the old box, the news. 

I don’t have time and feel pretty sick; I need to find a place to lay down to recover.  I eye a door in the passage between the living room and white kitchen.  I head for it as the topic on the news changes, “More on the murders in Los Vegas yesterday morning, police have finally relinquished this statement.  At around six thirty am several men assaulted a motel room, two were butchered in the bathroom before approximately four more took off kidnapping a young child and a male from the room.  This lady was shown in handcuffs shortly after, but was proven to have no relation to the murders.” An image flashes across the screen of a woman with brown hair wrapped up in some kind of white blanket.  Even with the distant picture I can tell exactly who that is.  It is the woman that saved me.  It has to be her. 

I stop, wanting to see more, “the stolen vehicle was later found outside of Reno accounting for at least one more death, the girl was recovered, shot several times and currently being held at a hospital in Reno.  Her mother is said to be at the hospital with her and the man kidnapped was also seen entering the hospital with a police escort.  Who these men are is still unknown and why they choose this particular family is still a mystery.  More coming soon.”

Reno.  She’s in Reno. I turn no longer interested in that door to the garage and slip down a hall near the screen door I entered.  Three doors down I come to a bedroom, it has a single large bed in the center of the room with dressers on either side.  There’s a mirror across from the bed and clothes neatly folded and resting on shelves.  I go to one of the nightstands next to the bed and open the first drawer.  I scavenge through it before closing and opening the second one. Nothing.  Maybe not everyone is like the movies.

I go around to the other side and open the drawer.  Bingo.  Right on top of a stack of papers is a compact silver pistol.  I smile.  Looks like Hollywood hasn’t failed me this time.  I pick up the weapon.  It’s heavy, cold and the handle is not as soft as I expect.  The weapon is ridged and hurts to hold as I can hardly fit my fingers over the trigger.  I turn with the weapon in my hand like poison ivy aim it at my reflection in the mirror.

The girl in the mirror is covered in blood on one side.  Most of the blood has dried but there’s a decent amount still wet on her arm.  The right half of her dress is all wet and I can even see the mess on her stockings.  I take a deep slow breath, it hurts like hell and I have no idea how I’m still even standing.  In the corner of my eye I catch a woman.  I turn my entire body, gun in my hands, to see this tall woman in a large white shirt with a laundry basket in her hands.  She has glasses, shorts and jumps back when she sees me. 

“You.  Don’t move.”  I snap at the woman, “Do you have a car?”  What kind of question is that?  Of course she has a car.  I don’t let her answer, “You’re going to drive me to Reno, any funny business and I’m gonna shoot you.  Got it?”  My arms begin to shake and I become light headed.  I feel my face go pale as I side step to lean against the bed.

My arm stings more than ever as I try my best to not cough.  In the wave of sickness I lower the weapon but the lady stays in her spot.  The woman slowly lowers the laundry basket and repeats, “Reno?  Why?” 

“I, I just need to get there.”  I lift the gun up and start walking, “No phone, move.”  She turns and I follow her out of the bedroom, down the hall, and to the garage.

“You’re making a big mistake young lady.  Do you parents know you’re here?  Are you running away?”

“Shut up.”  I growl as she opens the door.  I look at the counter to see a flip phone resting at the edge and slide it off to slip into my pocket, for emergencies only.

When she enters the garage I see her reach up grab something off a shelf above the washer.  “What is that!”  I shout, shaking the weapon in my hands and aiming it at her head.  “Turn around or I swear to God I’ll blow your brains out, like, like I did with the last one!”  She turns slowly.  In one of her hands is a red box with a white cross in the center.  Above the cross are the words First Aid.   In the other is a black pair of keys.  She pushes a button on the key ring and the garage opens.

“I don’t care what happened with you, or why you are doing this, but that is a serious injury and you need to patch it up.”

“Get in,” I growl.

I walk around the vehicle with the gun pointed at her.  I lower the weapon to use my good hand to open the passenger door, but quickly lift it up when the door is opened.  I pull myself into the passenger seat and realize I’m unable to close the door while keeping the gun in my hand.  I glare at the woman for a while before I drop the weapon in my lap, slam the door as fast as I can and pick it up.  Good, I was fast enough and she didn’t take it from me.

The woman pulls her car out of the driveway, “Where in Reno?”

“The hospital,” I say.

“There’re closer hospitals.”

“I need that one.”

She pulls onto the road.  I can’t believe how well this woman is cooperating.  “What’s your name?” she asks.

I look over at her then back to the road.  I want to make sure she drives me to the right place and not somewhere bad like the police, “None of your damn business.”

“I’m Mary.  My husband will be worried when he sees I’m gone.”

“I don’t care.”

Mary sets the First Aid kit between the seats and puts both her hands on the wheel, “It’s a long drive, about six hours.”  She pulls onto a highway going easy and speeds up to the speed limit.

I nod my head and slowly reach for that kit.  I set it in my lap and open it up, inside is gauze, some kind of fluid, a few large bandages and other things.  I look at the stuff in confusion and have no idea where to start.  My arm hurts too much to even concentrate on the idea of cleaning it and putting something on top of it.

“This is ridiculous.” Mary says as she jerks the steering wheel to the right and pulls over to the side of the highway.

“Hey! Who said you could stop!” I shout, lifting the weapon up again.

“The damn thing doesn’t even have any bullets.” Mary says as she opens the driver door and walks around the front of the car.  She opens the passenger door before I even think of locking it and sticks her hand out, “Give me.”

I turn the weapon in my hand and point it up.  I close my eyes and pull the trigger, it clicks but nothing comes out.  Shit.  “Give me.”

“No.” I say.

“Give me your arm.” I look at Mary, hesitant, before deciding that without a weapon I no longer have control of the situation.  I slowly reach out my arm.  She takes the first aid out of my lap and sets it on the hood.  She pulls out gauze and what looks like a small bottle of water.  She sprays the water on my arm, it’s cool and washes away most the blood, “This is going to hurt,” she takes another bottle and puts some of the liquid of a piece of gauze.  The second she touches this gauze on my arm searing pain burns through the cut.  I try to pull my arm away but her grip on my wrist tightens as she rubs the fire across the cut.  She pulls the pad away and unrolls more of the gauze to wrap around my arm.  I squeeze my eyes shut as hard as possible just to prevent crying as she finishes wrapping my arm with half the roll and tapes the end. 

She slams the door, closes the first aid, and walks back around the front of the car to the driver side.  She then pulls the car into drive and merges back onto the highway.  After the pain resides I ask, “Where are you taking me?” 

Mary looks at me then back forward, “Reno.” 

“Why?”

“Buckle up… it’s not every day a bleeding child breaks into your house and demands you to take them a city away.  Whatever is in Reno must be really important to you for you to not be lost in dolls and stuck to your parents like glue.”

“I ruined my mom and Daniel’s relationship,” I look down at the bandage.  This woman did a pretty good job at cleaning it up, “They put me in the church because only God can save me now.”  I turn away from the woman and put my head on the door, “Fuck God…”

-January 12, Reno NV-

I sit in the chair at the far end of the room and look at my two women, both sleeping.  Lil looks to be comfortable in the bed and Clare has managed to curl up in the other chair with her head on the little table next to the bed.  She isn’t even using a pillow.  We were told that Lil will be released tomorrow morning, which is quite a surprise because just three days ago she was brought in dehydrated, sunburnt, and in critical condition with two gunshot wounds.  I guess letting someone in that condition out four days later isn’t normal.  But I know Lil isn’t normal, so I guess healing fast comes with the territory.

Clare and I still haven’t talked about what happened two nights ago, but we sure as hell let our bodies speak in the bathroom adjacent to the room more than once.  I just didn’t get it.  The more we screwed the more she wanted it.  I had this vibe she really doesn’t want it but that I have some power over her she’s not talking about.  I do admit I have this attraction too.  Just last week I was disgusted at the fact she lied to me and turned me into a werewolf, a day after the first full moon and that entire concept of that hate is gone.  I even tried to hate her and tried to hold back, but one look and I can’t help but wonder off to the bathroom with her to have some fun.

I haven’t gotten much sleep over the last two days but that lack of sleep hasn’t bothered me any.  I think it’s because I like to watch her sleep.  It’s weird and I never cared before, but now I’m slightly obsessed with watching her sleep.  I think it’s because when she wakes I know what will happen next and the thought of that makes me happy.  I hear a distant knocking, something I would have never heard before.  A door opens a closes, then that knocking comes a bit closer.  I ignore the sound and turn back to my women.  I know both of them hate each other but I wished they could just get along.

The knocking gets closer, I take my attention off my women and look at the door, who is banging on all the doors?  The knocking comes to my door, “What?” I shout.

The door handle goes down and a little girl pokes her head through the crack.  She has a yellow dress on and I can smell a woman hiding behind her and an open wound.  Clare snaps out of her sleep like when the doctor used the smelling salt on Lil.  She looks straight at the girl, “You.”  She scowls.

The girl pushes the door all the way open and steps inside, “Is this it?” the woman behind asks.

“Do you know her?” I ask to Clarine.

“What are you doing here?” Clarine asks, “How did you find me?”

“It’s you, it’s really you.”  The girl says as she takes a step into the room.  I can see she has a bandage over one arm while the other has a slit across the wrist and several scars on her palm, “I’ve been looking for you ever since you, you saved me.”

“No,” Clare nods her head, “I didn’t save you, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Who is this?” the woman behind the girl asks as she too steps into the room.

“But you did, you saved me from that monster,” the girl replies.

Clare stands up and walks around the bed, this movement causes Lil to turn her head to the intruders, who I suspect was never actually sleeping.

“You couldn’t just forget about it could you?”  says Clairne.

“My mom and Daniel broke up, they sent me away because they thought something was wrong.  I need you, you saw it, you saved me, you need to show everyone so they will know I’m not lying.”

I scowl and look at the woman behind the girl, she appears to also have no idea what’s going on.  At least I’m not alone in that, “You couldn’t have just thought it was a bad dream.  I regret stopping, I knew this would happen.”

“Stopping?”

Clare points at the girl’s slashed wrist, “He didn’t give that to you, I did.  I was supposed to kill you, I always kill them.  But I changed.  I didn’t kill because he taught me that I don’t have to,” she looks at me, “But I see I was wrong,” she looks back at the girl.

“No.  You’re lying.” The girl’s eyes begin to water and the water pools at the bottom of her eyelids.  She brings a hand out from her back.  In her hand is a steel pistol, but this revolver is missing something key to a weapon.  There’s no smell of gunpowder, there’s never been a smell.  Not only has this weapon never been fired, but it’s never even been in contact with a bullet since its creation.  I can tell Clare knows this too, it’s probably why she didn’t jump at the kid the second she entered. 

“We’re not good people kid.” Clare takes a step closer to the weapon.

“Back off or I’ll shoot, make the monster come or I’ll kill you all.”

“We’re not good people…” Clare repeats.

“You’re…” I mutter, too low for the kid and her guardian to hear, but enough for Clare and Lil. 

Clarine looks at me, then back to the kid asking, “Why are you here?”

“You ruined my life.”

“You’re just a kid, why are you really here?”

“You saved me.”

“I didn’t, why are you here?”

“I, I don’t know!”  The kid is crying now.

Clare turns her attention away from the girl and looks at the woman behind her.  The woman puts her hands up in the air like she has nothing to do with it.  She takes a step back as if she’s going to just leave right there.  Her eyes lock on Clare’s and she slowly lowers her hands and steps forward.  The woman grabs the handle without even looking at it and closes the door.  Once the door is closed she slowly lowers herself until she’s on her knees, “Clare… what are you doing?” I say.

“Making up for what I should have done, resetting the balance,” she replies.

“Clare…” I say as she walks around the girl who holds the gun on her, but doesn’t act upon it.

The girl sniffles and asks, “What are you doing?”

“Fixing a loose end,” Clare answers.  She moves up to the woman who looks forward without seeing anything and no longer even blinks.  This woman is completely under Clarine’s control.

“She doesn’t know anything, she didn’t do anything, leave her alone.  She helped me!” the kid sobs as she holds the gun on Clare, who is now standing over the woman.  Clare grabs a handful of the woman’s hair and pulls it back until her expressionless face is looking up.

“Clare, don’t do this.” I say, standing up and taking two steps.

“Don’t you dare, or I swear to God—” Clare looks at the hospital bed, then to me.  I freeze.

Clarine takes a knee and washes her fingers over the woman’s throat.  She closes her eyes and takes a deep inhale from her nose.  When she opens her eyes four large fangs protrude from her mouth and she lunges them at the woman’s throat.  The woman’s eyes go from brown to gray in seconds as the kid screams and pulls the trigger on her empty gun as many times as she can.  Clare brutally rips her teeth out of the woman’s throat and throws the body on the ground. 

Clare throws her eyes to the kid next, they have transformed into the deep hexagons. “Stop, you don’t have to kill anymore, you can stop,” I say.

Clare spits a mouthful of blood onto the body and says, “No.  I don’t.  Look at her, who’s going to believe her anyways… You should have never came looking for me.”  Clare reaches into her front pocket, “Here,” she hands a small folded piece of paper over to the girl, who takes it while dropping her useless weapon.  “Neel, Lil, we’re leaving.  Now.  Get your stuff.”

I look at Clare, then at Lil, who is already pulling herself out of the bed.  There’s a neat pile of clothing on the table on the door side and she picks it up to head for the bathroom.  Lil could sense it and I guess I can too; Clare is not in the mood to be messed with.  Lil comes out a minute later with a black t-shirt and jeans while using her hands to tie a red bow in her hair.  I understand that look and decide now’s not the time to argue.  I go for the door.  Clare kicks the body aside and I step out, as I do I hear Lil speak for the first time, “Don’t know what you expected, she’s like the definition of evil.”

“Why do you even stay with them?” the girl asks.

Lil replies, “Who else do I have?”  Lil leaves the room and takes the corner with me.  We walk a bit before she limps once and looks over to me, “Why are you still with her?  I mean, she just killed that woman in cold blood.”

She continues to limp as we reach the elevator.  “We need her.”

“Do we?” I look down at Lil, realizing that I really don’t know the answer to that.  I don’t think it’s her that needs Clare, but more me.  I’m not sure what I would do without her.  I’m just well, nothing.  She knows everything.  I bet she’s up in that room right now cleaning up the mess because she’s like that.  She’s always two steps ahead and has a plan.  I guess I’m just here for the wild sex and the ride.  Really, what is my point in being here?  Why have I gone this far and what role do I have in her world.  I mean really, am I just her pleasure and be a mediator to Aleniese for her?

The elevator hits the bottom and I step out.  The truck is parked near the middle of the lot.  Guess I’ll have to stay on this roller-coaster to find what I’m here for, but I know one thing’s for sure, as long as I’m here I’ll keep seeing bodies.

-January 13, Outside Reno NV-

Neel’s driving, I think he likes driving because then he knows he has some sort of control.  I think both of us know this moving around all the time is accomplishing nothing.  We’ve been on the road far too long and need to find a place to settle down.  I know that place has to be somewhere secluded, but I also know it has to be some place fortified.  What happened a few days ago is a perfect example of why we need the security.

Luckily I have two who I know for a fact would be working on that.  One or two phone calls and I bet we could have a place to live by the morning.  The little pest Lil reaches over the chair and pulls at my shirt.  “What?” I snarl, without even looking behind me.

“Don’t you know?” she says.

“Yes, we can smell her too.”  Neel says as he keeps his eyes on the road.

“Is she supposed to be back there?”

“No,” I say, “but no loose ends.  Open the back window,” Lil slides the window open.  “We can smell you back there.  I swear if you break anything…”  I guess my display had absolutely no effect on the kid.  I tell her to get lost and she little brat sneaks into the back of the truck.  I knew she was back there the second I finished cleaning up the body and went to the truck.  That kid got into the back before I was even down the elevator to say otherwise.  Persistent little one.

A head pokes up from under the tarp near one of the far sides and looks at the small opening.  Neel looks into the rearview mirror and says, “Why did you follow us?”

The girl is quick to reply, “Who else do I have?”

Lil smiles, “What’s so funny?” I snap.

“I like her.” Lil says.

“Well, okay then.” I say, turning back to the front, “Lil, you can close the window.”

“You’re not going to kick me out?” The girl says and Lil beings to slide the window.

“Nope,” I manage to get out before the window shuts. 

Not twenty seconds later there’s tapping on the window. Lil opens it just enough for the girl to poke part of her face into the cabin, “Can I come in?  It’s cold.”

“Should have brought a jacket,” I reply motioning Lil to slide the window closed again.  The girl taps on the window once it’s shut.  I just look at Lil and nod my head no, letting her know to keep it closed, “Little pest.”

“You really should let her in,” says Neel. 

“Little brat’s gonna follow us around she’s going to have to get used to it.”  I look into the mirror to see her sink back under the tarp where it is probably warmer.  I look around the truck to realize I have no phone.  I also know Neel lost his somewhere after the bar and Lil sure as hell has nothing.  Shit.

“Can you open the window again?” I ask Lil.  She does and I shout into the back, “Do you have a phone?”

The girl pokes her head back up, “What?”

“Do you have a phone?”

“Uh,” she goes back down and appears again with a pink flip phone

“Where’d you get this?” I ask as I reach out to take it from her hand.

“I took it from Mary.”

“Who?”

“The woman you killed.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Can I come in now?” she asks.

“Nope.” I say as I motion for Lil to close the window again.  This phone is literally perfect.  It’s low tech enough it will be much harder to track, if it all.  I dial a number. 

The phone rings one time before someone answers, “This is Gelburta, how can I be of service?”

“I need a permanent resident with security, fast,” I say.

“Mother… of course.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Of course My Lady,” that’s not much better, “you can use my place, top of the line security, spacious plot and just outside the City of Sin.  You’ll adore the gardens, pools, and twenty acres of spacious deserted land it comes with.  You know me… never can be too careful dealing with the sleazy.”

“How many?”

“Six.”

That’s not nearly enough; he knows it, “Finances?”

“More than taken care of.  You’re on the way to being a Queen, Mother...”

I cringe, but resist saying anything, instead saying, “David?”

“He works in mysterious ways, but its moving along without flaw.” David is like me, never has a phone and is hard to contact, but if you’re looking for him he knows and you’ll get that connection.

“We were attacked Gilbert.  A Witch.”

“When?”

“Five days ago,” I say, flat.

“Why are you telling me now? You should have called.”

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes Mother,” he says as he hangs up the phone.  I really hate him calling me that.  I’m not an old woman.  Hell, he’s older than me. 

“Where are we going?  Do I want to know who that was?” Neel questions.

“North Vegas, and no,” I answer.

We drive all night, making one stop at a gas station.  I don’t think the girl in the back noticed the stop because she didn’t get out when the truck parked, maybe she froze to death.  That would be a great misfortune.  As the sun just hits the horizon we approach a large fenced off building.  This structure is an oasis of green just north of Vegas which is entirely gated off.  The building is four stories tall and has at least twenty windows across at each level.  There’s a large arch entrance with a pair of wooden doors right in the center of the building.  Both the left and right corners have towers which reach a good story or two above the rest of the building. 

We pull up to the front gate and a man appears out of a small guard box near the gate and knocks on the window for us to roll it down.  He bends over and takes one look into the truck before nodding and stepping back.  We don’t even exchange a word as he radios someone and the gate slides open on its own.  Once the obstruction is gone there is neatly mowed grass, palm trees, and a winding cement driveway.  At the end of the driveway is a smooth roundabout with a fountain in the center that looks an awfully lot like the structure took its inspiration from the extravagant casinos in the city. 

Neel slowly drives the truck into the roundabout as Lil pokes her head between the seats; her eyes have grown twice their size as she stares at the monstrosity of white stone and glass with nearly every inch of it carved in such a manor to resemble ancient Greek buildings, “You live here?” Lil asks.

“Yeah…” I hear Neel ask as he slows the car to a neutral roll to ogle at the building.

“Uh, no…” I start.  Even I’m amazed at the unnecessary extravagance of the building.   When I was in bed with Gilbert this never came up.  Did he even have this building before? Where did he get it and why was I never told?  I smile.  Gilbert is mine now, if he’s mine that means everything he owns is also mine.  I guess this palace is mine, I guess everything we see is now mine, “But we do now.”

“Why do you have this piece of shit then?” Lil says, kicking the compartment between the front seats with her good leg.

“Uh, this… place… is a recent accusation.”

“What’s that?”

“I just got it.”

As Neel stops the truck in front of the entrance some butler of sort comes out to greet us, he opens my door first, “Ma’am we have been expecting you.”

I take a whiff, this man is undead.  I can smell it.  Neel scowls at the odd smell and Lil sinks behind the chairs, “Can we go?” she asks, “I don’t like it here.”

“What is that?” Neel asks, taking several deep inhales from his nose like a kid smelling a flower and trying to figure out what color it is.

“A Vampire,” I say, “Get out, we’re staying here now.”

“Vampire?”  I hear Neel start, “I thought they all were dead.”

“Were.”  I say.

“You—”

“I’m healed.  Did you think I’d just keep going on being the last of my kind?  Of course I’d make more,” I cut him off.

“I don’t know about this…” Neel says, clutching the steering wheel and looking at the butler and front door as it opens and a Hispanic man in a purple glossy shirt and gelled back hair steps out, “I don’t know if anything is true, but there’s never been anything good in the stories about… vampires.”

“It’s a hierarchy Neel. I made him,” I point at the Hispanic one walking down the three steps and to the truck, “he made him,” I point at the butler, “I’m the top and anyone below me is a creation of me thus entirely under my power, “Watch.”  I stare at the butler, who lowers his hand, steps over to the truck and slams his head down so fast it bounces once off the hood causing a loud crash.  His body rebounds back and hits the ground, twitching once before remaining still.

“You just seduced him like the woman in the hospital,” says Neel.

I smile, “You can’t seduce a vampire.” 

“Now, now,” The purple man says as he steps over the butler, “That’s no way to treat your guests, was that necessary?  Took me quite a while to find a man reserved and talented enough to fill that position.”

“Gilberto, no one touches me or my companions… got it?”

“Why of course Mother.”

The nerves in my forehead tense at that word, I really don’t like it, “The one in the back too.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted.  Let’s get you out of that… vehicle… and to the warmth inside,” he smiles and bows similar to the butler did before I made him knock himself out, he raises his brow, “we have cookies.” 

I feel Lil perk up at the mention of cookies.  I guess we haven’t eaten all night and hospital food isn’t something you crave.  I get out of the truck and Neel gets out on his side.  As Lil starts to slowly step through the center I walk around the back and open the truck bed, I put my head under the tarp and yell, “Get out.”  A head pops up behind the trunk.  Her lips are purple and she looks to be shivering.  It is really cold.  She stumbles over the trunk.  Her hands have been pulled into the dress and it looks like she was using whatever slack the tarp had as a blanket.  “What’s your name anyways?” I ask.

“S-S-Sarah.”  She steps out into the light created by the mansion.  She doesn’t even notice the grand structure and keeps her eyes on the ground as she rounds the truck.  The only thing she sees is that door and the possible warmth the interior must provide from the icy night. 

Lil hobbles ahead and enters first.  Neel follows then Gilbert lines up with me with Sarah staggering behind.  “You pick up every kid you drive past?” Gilbert asks.

“She’s a purebred,” I say, signaling to Lil inside, “she’s a leach,” I say, pointing at the one behind us.

“A purebred?  I thought they were all dead.”

“Me too.”

“Where’d you find her?”

“Alaska.”

“The final frontier…”

We enter the building.  The inside is as fantastic as the exterior.  The front is one massive hall from the floor to the ceiling four stories above.  To the left and right are staircases with golden railings and red carpet.  The stairs go right up to a massive balcony that overlooks the entrance.  Directly in the center is the largest chandelier I’ve ever seen, a crystal piece as large as an elephant that drops well under the balcony.  In front is a massive open hall which leads into an even larger room.  This large room would be used to host parties or other events. 

Lil stumbles right up until she’s under the chandelier, “Woah,” she gawks as she looks up at the hundred thousand glass pieces hanging in such a way it looks impossible to have ever been hung in the first place.  I look to the right to see two tall women wearing nothing but silk underwear.  Both have flawless skin, stomachs that indent, and tan skin.  One of the Latino whores, for lack of a better word, has white bunny ears on and the other has fuzzy handcuffs locked over one of her wrists.  With one whiff I could tell both these harlots were vampires.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I snap as Gilbert smiles and looks at his two pets.

“I can’t have a little fun?” He smiles and dips over to his toys, “Hannah and Irine.” He says, pointing at both the girls, failing to distinguish between the two, “They’re both very… talented…”

I frown, “Is this counted in your six?”

“It’s not easy finding those that know, especially since most don’t want to be found.  I guess it’s part of the business.  The public appearance of it all should help bring some of those back, the rest will come.  Soon we’ll be a great nation once more, but for now it’s one whore at a time.” He winks and looks at his women.

“We’ll need rooms.  One for me and Neel and one for… Lil.”

“What about her?”  Gilbert asks about the shivering girl who has entered and curled up against the wall while trying to warm herself up.

“What would you do with a stowaway that has nowhere left to go?”

“Eat it…”

I roll my eyes and say, “Put her in the room with Lil, I’ll deal with her later.”

“Yes Mother,” He bows and turns to go up the stairs.

One of the two whores approaches me and says in a seductive voice, “I’m Hannah, let me take you to your room.  I’m sure you’ll like to freshen up and get some rest after your hardships on the road.”

“Yeah,” I say, “and put some clothes on.”

“Yes Mother,” she smiles and walks across me to the staircase opposite of the one Gilbert begins to ascend with Irene and her handcuffs.  He’s not even fully out of sight before he’s unbuttoning his shirt to start whatever I must have interrupted.