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Authors: Olivia D'Abo
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dripped from her: only dead flesh which seemed to creep into the wound like melted butter.
Camilla threw Cedric against the stairs, knocking Trixie down. The succubus beast menaced towards them, dragging her pale nails across the wood railing every inch she walked.
Trixie yelled to Cedric “Cmon god dammit! Get up!”
She pulled him up by the collar and dragged him up a couple of steps while Camilla seemingly enjoyed their efforts to escape. The gamier, the tastier, she thought.
Trixie and Cedric bashed open the door with all her might, slamming it shut behind them.
Cedric looked around and yelled, “Here help me get this in front of the door!”
Both of them pushed the fridge up against the door for all the good it would do for them.
“Let’s get out of here already”, Trixie stated.
She yanked Cedric towards the front door.
Down below, Camilla regretted waiting too long to make her move. In her lust to get a more gamy-tasting meal she now not only might miss her meal, but dawn would be creeping over the horizon rather swiftly. She walked back to the body of Gilchrist with the aim of using the poker to pry the door ajar.
A gleam of light caught her eye. From her standing position it looked like a watch of some sort on the inside of his black jacket. She leaned down to inspect him more personally. A dozen fleas jumped out of his woodwork and onto her arm. She hastily swatted them away, likening her dark immortality to angelic status and unyielding to the tenets of dogs and ruffians. But there was something else. A faint murmur of voice perhaps, or of something mechanized, like a mechanical bird with broken gears. She heard a “tick…tick” sound emanating from the rotting body of Gilchrist. She pulled the jacket off completely, hurling it to one side. Beneath the jacket’s exterior was a tattooed ogre of an individual with the express purpose of murder and mayhem. Her own purposes were much more deific, she thought, and light years beyond this dog of a man. She turned him over. Wrapped around a ticking watch was a coiled, beige cord that spiraled repeatedly around his waist like a phone cord, along with two tightly packed sticks of what looked like rolled up…nickels, she thought. A note fell out of the inside pocket of the jacket and onto the floor. Camilla picked it up, unfolded it and read it.
“
Meet us tomorrow at the agreed spot. Bring the goods. We should only need one stick but bring more just in case. Make sure the timer works this time or we’ve fucked it up again
”.
It wasn’t hard for Camilla to immediately put it together; however the timer had been prematurely set as soon as the she had speared the leather beast, inadvertently setting the timer for AM in lieu of PM.
Her black heart seemed to immediately turn to stone as the timer ticked down: “five…four…three…”
In a flurry of panic and regret she dashed towards the window, sending battered boxes flying everywhere as she crudely shifted forms from a hot-tempered debt collector into a winged succubus of plague and disease. Time slowed down as she leapt towards the window, sending shards of smoked glass to the ground. The basement exploded in a vortex of splinted timber, dried paint and melted lunchboxes with No.2 pencils launched in seemingly contradictory directions as Camilla flapped her dark wings to escape the maelstrom of light and heat. On the front yard lie satchels, thermoses and wrapped pastries that were decades-old, given by overzealous mothers who wished solitude from their boisterous children. Small clusters of fire pelted the lawn like meteorites. The smell of burnt, plastic lunchboxes permeated the air.
Camilla flew faster and faster, not looking back.
“Safe” she thought.
Her secret was now out in the open, broadcasted by a circus of fire and light…with Trixie as ringmaster. She would eventually repay, no matter the cost.
No sooner that she thought of what she would say to her husband about her
Camilla threw Cedric against the stairs, knocking Trixie down. The succubus beast menaced towards them, dragging her pale nails across the wood railing every inch she walked.
Trixie yelled to Cedric “Cmon god dammit! Get up!”
She pulled him up by the collar and dragged him up a couple of steps while Camilla seemingly enjoyed their efforts to escape. The gamier, the tastier, she thought.
Trixie and Cedric bashed open the door with all her might, slamming it shut behind them.
Cedric looked around and yelled, “Here help me get this in front of the door!”
Both of them pushed the fridge up against the door for all the good it would do for them.
“Let’s get out of here already”, Trixie stated.
She yanked Cedric towards the front door.
Down below, Camilla regretted waiting too long to make her move. In her lust to get a more gamy-tasting meal she now not only might miss her meal, but dawn would be creeping over the horizon rather swiftly. She walked back to the body of Gilchrist with the aim of using the poker to pry the door ajar.
A gleam of light caught her eye. From her standing position it looked like a watch of some sort on the inside of his black jacket. She leaned down to inspect him more personally. A dozen fleas jumped out of his woodwork and onto her arm. She hastily swatted them away, likening her dark immortality to angelic status and unyielding to the tenets of dogs and ruffians. But there was something else. A faint murmur of voice perhaps, or of something mechanized, like a mechanical bird with broken gears. She heard a “tick…tick” sound emanating from the rotting body of Gilchrist. She pulled the jacket off completely, hurling it to one side. Beneath the jacket’s exterior was a tattooed ogre of an individual with the express purpose of murder and mayhem. Her own purposes were much more deific, she thought, and light years beyond this dog of a man. She turned him over. Wrapped around a ticking watch was a coiled, beige cord that spiraled repeatedly around his waist like a phone cord, along with two tightly packed sticks of what looked like rolled up…nickels, she thought. A note fell out of the inside pocket of the jacket and onto the floor. Camilla picked it up, unfolded it and read it.
“
Meet us tomorrow at the agreed spot. Bring the goods. We should only need one stick but bring more just in case. Make sure the timer works this time or we’ve fucked it up again
”.
It wasn’t hard for Camilla to immediately put it together; however the timer had been prematurely set as soon as the she had speared the leather beast, inadvertently setting the timer for AM in lieu of PM.
Her black heart seemed to immediately turn to stone as the timer ticked down: “five…four…three…”
In a flurry of panic and regret she dashed towards the window, sending battered boxes flying everywhere as she crudely shifted forms from a hot-tempered debt collector into a winged succubus of plague and disease. Time slowed down as she leapt towards the window, sending shards of smoked glass to the ground. The basement exploded in a vortex of splinted timber, dried paint and melted lunchboxes with No.2 pencils launched in seemingly contradictory directions as Camilla flapped her dark wings to escape the maelstrom of light and heat. On the front yard lie satchels, thermoses and wrapped pastries that were decades-old, given by overzealous mothers who wished solitude from their boisterous children. Small clusters of fire pelted the lawn like meteorites. The smell of burnt, plastic lunchboxes permeated the air.
Camilla flew faster and faster, not looking back.
“Safe” she thought.
Her secret was now out in the open, broadcasted by a circus of fire and light…with Trixie as ringmaster. She would eventually repay, no matter the cost.
No sooner that she thought of what she would say to her husband about her
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