forever nocturne vol. i, iss. v

8/9/2019 Forever Nocturne Vol. I, Iss. V

1/46

Vol. I, Issue V

FEATUREDATUREDATURED STORYORYORY:CCAMPYAMPYBYCCARRIEARRIE CCLEVENGERLEVENGER

AALSOLSOININTHISTHISISSUEISSUE::

EEXTRAXTRAVVIRGINIRGINBBYY AANDREWNDREW JJACKACK

TTHEHEAASHESSHESBBYY CCHERYLHERYL TTRACYRACY

MMALAKHALAKHIVIVBYBY SSIOBHANIOBHAN MMACACIINTYRENTYRE

DDISCARDISCARD

BYBY AASHELYNSHELYN SSANFORDANFORD

GGEMINIEMINIRRISINGISINGBBYY NL GNL GERVASIOERVASIO

BBESTESTOFOFLLUCKUCKBBYY KKILIANILIAN CCONORONOR

TTIRIRNANANNOOGGBBYY NL GNL GERVASIOERVASIO

TTHEHETTELLIANELLIANLLAWAWBBYY EERICRIC J. KJ. KRAUSERAUSE


2/46

RUNNING INK PRESS

Forever Nocturne Magazineorever Nocturne Magazineorever Nocturne MagazineVolume I, Issue V

Herein are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the au-

thors imagination or were used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, busi-

ness establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Non-fiction: news articles were thoroughly researched before being accepted for submission, and links

are given for more information.

All rights reserved 2010 Running Ink Press

Edited by N. L. Gervasio

Co-Edited by Siobhan MacIntyre

Cover Design by N. L. Gervasio

Magazine Design by N.L. Gervasio and Siobhan MacIntyre

Published by Running Ink Press

PRINTING HISTORY

2010This magazine, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form, without the prior written permis-

sion of the publisher or individual author.

For information, address:

[email protected]

ISBN:

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

1st Edition

MATURE CONTENT: READER DISCRETION ADVISED


3/46

designstheHalloweenissue

andIdesigntheSt.Patricks

Dayissue,whichIcantfig

ureoutforthelifeofme

becauseshestheCelticone

andmyfavoriteholidayis

Halloween.Regardless,as

soonaswerebothfinished

withourdegrees,thezine

willbecomeavailablequar

terly.Untilthenclick

around.

Slinte!

Jinxie_GJinxie_G

Welcomeandthankyoufor

downloadingtheFNzine!

First,ifyourereading

this,youllhavenoticedthe

$1.00costtodownloadthe

zinethistimearound.

Chargingthisamountwill

enablemanythingsforusin

thefuture,thefirstofwhich

istheabilitytofinishlegaliz

ingimportantdetailswith

ourpress,andthesecond:

topayourwritersinthe

nearfuture.Whatthisand

thenextissuewilldoforus

isgiveenoughinformation

forustodeterminehow

muchthatpaywillbe.

ThisisForeverNocturnes

5thissueandImveryex

citedaboutsomeofthe

submissionswereceived

thislastround,especially

CarrieClevengersCampy,

assheisourfeaturedau

thorthisissue. Carriehas

beenwithusforawhile

nowasacontributing

writer,andwejustloveher

andherwork.Besureto

checkoutherwebsitesand

herstoryfeaturedinthelink

below.

Now,Siobhangenerally

Carrie Clevenger worships Maynard and

dreams of cephalopods on trains among

other oddities in Austin, Texas. She is

motivated by Stephen King, music, ex-

cessive amounts of coffee, and forks.

The hub of her evil network is found

at http://www.carrieclevenger.com/ and

on twitter

as @Carrie-

Clevenger.

Look for her in Lame Goat's Howl:

Tales of the Feral and the Infernalout

now on Amazon and in Chinese Whis-

peringsin October 2010.

Photo 2010 M. Hoffman

Forever Nocturne

VolumeI,IssueV

March2010

Inside this issue:

Campy 2Extra Virgin 4

The Ashes 13

Malakh 16

Best of Luck 21

Gemini Rising 23

The Tellian Law 31

Tir na nOg: Pt 1 34

Discard 39

Photo 2009 NL Gervasio

Photo 2009 C. Clevenger
http://twitter.com/Jinxie_Ghttp://twitter.com/Jinxie_Ghttp://twitter.com/CarrieClevengerhttp://twitter.com/CarrieClevengerhttp://twitter.com/CarrieClevengerhttp://twitter.com/CarrieClevengerhttp://twitter.com/CarrieClevengerhttp://twitter.com/Jinxie_G


4/46

It was the sound that got them. The eerie screech-ing, howl-thing that held their hands mid-air andtheir eyes bulging from the sockets. The sound ofbestial mockery, imitation and otherwise downrightfucking scaryshit out there in those woods.

Casey was the first to move; the rest watchedher carefully in order to determine whether or notthe health-risk was higher than acceptable.

What in God's nameIt sounded again, this time closer. The me-

thodical tick of the silly little pine-cut cuckoo clocktapped away at their courage. The hour struck andthe little carved birdie that popped out may as wellbeen laced with electricity, because everyonejumped.

The ivy trailing up the east wall reinforced thesign that this place was forgotten. Paid-for and justleft for whatever. Casey and Tom were seeing oneanother; Sheila and Brandon were not. They had

math together the year before, and since Shelia andCasey were best friends, and Tom was Brandon'sbuddy, it all sorta worked out.

Until nightfall.Are you sureyou've built a fire before? Ca-

sey asked, hands on hips watching Brandon fumblewith matches and kindling in the unused fireplace. They had to go out and cut wood for it. Tompicked mesquite and the room smoked up prettyfast.

The door provided a little relief, but Shelia ven-tured outside for a smoke while Casey and Bran-don argued about trees and wood and stuff andwas pretty much out of it. Until the sound.

It circled around the cabin,pulling the group together in themiddle of the one-room house; anoise like rushing through a fieldof grass, or a bunch of birds tak-

ing off. . Casey retreated under Tom's strong armwith a slight whimper, but Shelia refused to sub- ject herself to Brandon's smelly armpits. Jockstend to be more on the moist side.

What is that? Brandon whispered in theflickering light of the Coleman kerosene lamp. Itwas green, like color mattered in camping gear,and thankfully was included in the $99.95 dealdown at Price-Savrs for the Complete Woods-man Set. It'd also come with a fuzzy-flocked airmattress, queen size, and it was already assumedthat Casey and Tom would be fucking on it be-fore sunrise.

Close the windows, Tom said, his blueeyes uncommonly dark with huge pupils. Hisnostrils flared, and a trickle of sweat eased downhis cheek. But Tom smelled like that new mensdeodorant Axe, and not a chopping ax, becausethatwould have come in handy to cut the woodfor the fire. Casey kept stroking her hair, and

Brandon could hear the rough sound of auburncurls, a sort of scritch-scritch-scritch sound, ontop of the howls in the fucking forest, and ohshit he was just about to goddamn well lose itright there and then until Shelia scoffed and lit acigarette. Right there in Casey's dad's cabin.Right in front of everyone, who would havebitched about the smell except they all envied thedamn blond bitch, with her icy blue eyes andliquid eyeliner.

She hated her name, because she was namedafter her grandma, and who in the hell reallywanted to be named after some old dead lady?

Fuck this, she said and ducked out of Bran-don's grasp to walk to the opendoorway. A screen separated herfrom the pressing black outsidetheir little abode. The treesstood silent, unwilling to divulge

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Photo Gilbert Tremblay
http://www.chinesewhisperings.com/http://www.chinesewhisperings.com/http://www.chinesewhisperings.com/http://www.chinesewhisperings.com/http://www.chinesewhisperings.com/


5/46

any more secrets to their inhabitants. A bird cooed and Shelia smiled. Casey knew that same smile in gym,right before she decided to tear down some unsuspecting freshman chick for trying to get out of a showerafter running laps. Seniors showered. Seniors had fucking tits to show off, and since sex was overrated andhighly preached against in their sleepy town of Chase Nook, Colorado, someonehad to see those beau-ties.

Casey'd seen them up close, once. Shelia was thinking about getting piercings there and asked heropinion on whether gold or silver rings would look better. Then she asked her if she wanted to feel them.

Casey swallowed, remembering that feeling.She looked back to the doorway. Shelia wasn't there.Hey guys, where did Shelia goHer words were drowned out by Shelia's scream, somewhere behind the little house, but with the win-

dows all blank eyes to the outside, it could've been in the roof.Casey slapped Brandon's arm. Go outside and find her!Brandon nodded once and started for the door, but Shelia burst back inside, gripping her neck.Fucker bit me! Her eyes crossed for a moment before she wilted to the floor. Brandon dragged her

closer to the middle and slammed the door shut, following up with a swift locking of all three bolts.She's bleeding, Casey shouted, pulling her jacket off to stanch the flow. Shelia's features were

pinched, her lips bluish.We have to get her to a hospital, Casey said, pressing down on the wound while Tom picked up thephone. He wiped his hand on his jeans to clear away the dust, his face hopeful, then sinking into unmistak-able despair.

It's dead, he said, and let the phone drop to the floor.A solid thump at the door jerked the three's attention to it. Another. And another, like bricks hurled at

the thing, and Shelia was coming around.She's waking up, Tom said, squatting beside her.Greatdeduction, Casey snapped.How're you feeling? he said, his voice very light and high, which didn't sound like him at all.I think the bleeding's stopped, Casey said and winced at the next heavy thump against the door. Her

breath caught as she looked out the window over the massive floor-model television.Golden eyes glinted in the camp light. Dozens. Maybe even a hundred.Shelia vibrated under her hands.Shit, she's convulsing! Tom said, pinning her shoulders to the floor.The three pounced on her shaking form to hold her steady. Blood pooled in the blonde's mouth.She's biting her tongue, Tom snapped, Stick something hard in it. His eyes cut to Brandon.The fuck are all those out there? Brandon asked, almost dazed. His wonderment was cut short by

Shelia chomping into the meatiest part of his forearm.It was like a slow-motion scene: Shelia with hilted teeth, Brandon screaming, Casey falling backwards

and Tom? Well, Tom clocked the bitch, but it did little good. Her clothes tore all over, her breasts swelling

and receding beneath her already skimpy tank top, her arm going furred and that same golden gleam in hereyes.

Fuck! She's a were Brandon's words were cut off as three-inch claws tore the right side of his faceoff. The blood-soaked tank was nothing but a rag as her back arched, bones snapped and rows of wickedlysharp fangs filled the elongated snout her once-pretty face melted into.

Brandon fell on his back, gurgling on blood as Shelia turned her attention to Casey, screaming.Little bitch, the Shelia-thing snarled, charged the girl and swallowed her face. Casey's skull collapsed

under the crushing torque of those jaws, and the beast that was once Shelia licked her chops, slicing herown tongue on those crimson-stained points and looked straight at Tom.

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I want you, she growled and Tom backed up tothe door, his fingers seeking behind his back. Heturned the knob and in one smooth motion, openedthe door to flee into the night.

~*~Snow came and went, and eventually, the realtor'ssign at the road was uprooted and tossed into a truck

with shovels and pails. The yellow tape was longgone. The ivy was pulled from its precarious cling tothe cabin walls, and birds sang in those parts again.

This cabin was sold at an outstanding discount,George said with a grin to his fishing buddy, Earl.They unpacked the Jeep and tromped into the house.

Floor's a little scratched up, Earl harrumphedand George laughed.

Must've been some animals in here last winter.

In the bushes outside, twostately wolves watched. Theywatched, and they waited un-til nightfall.

~*~ 2010 Carrie Clevenger

March2010

VolumeI,

IssueV

SarahAlatasspentmostofherdaytryingtoavoidcommittingapublicindecency.Itdbeenhard;hercostumehadbeendesignedforawomanwithoutSarahshipsanditseemedlikeeverytimesheturned

aroundtheshortsweremakingadeterminedefforttodisappearupherass.

Toughgig,huh?Ayoungman,caramelcolouredskinbehindhisbeard,raisedhiseyebrowsather

frombehindhissetup.Hehadasketchpadinfrontofhim,pencilpoisedjustabovethepage.

Youhavenoidea.Sarahwalkedovertotheedgeoftheyoungmanstableandlookedathissketch.

Twofingers,shesaid.

What?

Twofingers.Ialwaysusetwofingerstodigtheshortsoutofmycrack,youveonlydrawnone.Other

wisepretty

good

though.

UmTheyoungmanwasstaring.Thanks.Hewassilentforamoment.Sorry.

Why?

Well,thewholedrawingyounearlynakedthingIguess.Evenasheapologisedheaddedanextra

linetothedrawingwithoutlookingatit.Behindhimwasafullsizedcartoondrawingofhimsittingathis

desk,drawingacartoon.ThetitleWileyComicsblazedunderneaththedrawing,alongwithawebad

dress.

Wiley?Shesaid,stilllookingatthedrawingofher.Hedgottenthesuggestionofhercurvesexactly

Photo Michael Lorenzo

Page 4
http://www.carrieclevenger.com/


7/46

right,theextralinehadsomehowtakenthedrawingfromnudechickintotherealmofclassynude.

Sarahlookedupattheartistintendingtofixhimwithasmileonlytoseethetopofhisheadashebent

overthesketchpad.

DeanWiley.Owner,artist,writer,marketerandwebdesignerofWileyComics.Pleasedtomeet

you.Deanlookedup,hiseyesstoppingonlyforahalfsecondastheypassedSarahsbreasts.Shed

neverconsideredherselfstacked,butthehaltertopthatwasapartoftheZulaColapromotionaluni

formmorethanmadeupforitbybeingtwosizestoosmall.Hepushedhisglassesbackontohisnose

with

one

hand

and

reached

out

a

handshake

with

the

other.

Sarah,shesaid,returningthehandshake.Hishandshakewasfirm,butshefeltthetensioninhis

tendonsasheshook.Toomuchdrawing,sheguessed.That,orachronicmasturbationproblem.Shefelt

thetinytwitchinherchestasthecoilinsideherrespondedtohiscondition.

Areyouokay?Sarahquicklyplasteredthesmilebackontoherface.

Imgood.Shesmiledwider.Howmuch?

Forwhat?Helookeddownatthesketch.Oh.Ifyoucanstandtowaituntilitsinkedyoucanhave

itforfree.

CmonDean,youcameheretomakeabuckright?Sarahlookedaroundher.Theconventionhall

wasalmostemptyofcomiclovers.Therewasasmallqueuebyonetablewhereaskinnymansketched

madlywhilehisbaldoffsidekeptthecongoersoccupied.Asshewatched,thebaldmangesticulated

wildlyand

the

word

delicious

floated

out

of

the

conversation

to

her

ears.

The

bald

man

handed

aplate

tothelargemaninfrontoftheirtable.Sarahcouldseeaplasticforkstickingstraightup.Thebigman

tooktheplateinonehandandthesketchandwalkedaway.

Yeah,thatllhappen.Yourethefirstpersontostopallday.

Toomuchcompetition?Shejuttedherchintowardsthequeue.Thebaldmanhandedoutanother

platewithaforkstickingoutofitalongwithaposter.Thegirlhedgiventhemkissedthebaldmanonthe

cheekandhandedhimagreennote.

Nah,thoseguysareinaleagueoftheirown.Imtoonewformostpeopletoknowabout.Dean

placedthepencilcarefullybesidethepaperandpickedupapen.

Andtheyregivingawaywaffles,saidSarah.Shecouldsmellthechocolateicecreamtheydputon

thehot

waffles

as

it

melted

on

the

plates.

IwishIdthoughtofthat.Deanbegancarefullyaddingtheinkintothepicture,choosingthebest

linethroughthesketch.Shewatchedherimagetakeonevenmorelife.

Youvegottoletmegiveyousomethingforthat,shesaid.Itwasglorious.Shedidnthaveanypho

tographsofherself,itwouldbetheclosestthingshehad.Sarahalwayskeptanemergencytwentyinone

ofhershoes.Withonehandshereacheddownandflickeditout,offeringittoChris.Please? Icant

doit,hesaid.YoureallthehumancontactIvehadallday.Hewavedahandattheemptytablesnext

tohim.Theothersgaveupyesterday.Twoseatsdown,anexceptionallyhairymansathunchedovera

comicbook.HelookedupatDeanandgrunted.Victordoesntcount.

Victorgruntedagainandturnedapage.SarahdecidedthatVictorhadbeenthefaintlyunpleasantun

dertonesmellthathadbeenirritatingherallweekend.

Letme

buy

you

lunch

at

least?

She

said.

She

gave

alittle

half

smile,

putting

all

the

warmth

she

had

leftintoit.Hergrandmotherhadalwayssaiditwasthewarmththatgotthem,andifyouknewtheright

tricks,youdidntneedanythingelse.

Deansmiledback.Sure.HeaddedanothertwolinestoSarahspicture,slowlytracingovertheline

ofhercalfmuscle.Vic,watchmystuffokay?

Hmph,saidVictor.

Thatmeansyes.Ithink,saidDean.HegentlyplacedtheunfinishedcartoonSarahunderhisdesk.

Therewasafoodcourtattheconvention,servingallkindsofnutritionallybankruptfood.Sarah

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8/46

pickedupabowlofIndonesianfoodthatatleasthadrecognisablevegetablesinit.Deanfollowedsuit

andpickedupabowlofcurrystraightafterher.Thetwomealscosthereighteenofhertwentydollars.

SheplacedtheremainingtwoonedollarnotesonDeansplateastheyfoundatable.

Gottogiveyousomething.IaskedforitsoIhavetopayyousomething,shesaid.Itsimportantto

me.

Umokay,saidDean,takingamouthfullofcurry.Gnnh.Sarahputahandofhermouthand

laughedasDeansturnedred.Twotearstrackeddownhisface.

Hah!

Thats

what

you

get

for

trying

to

impress

a

girl

in

a

food

court,

said

Sarah.

Dean

opened

his

mouthspeakbutnothingcameout.Hesnatchedupthetwodollarsfromhisfoodtrayandsprintedback

totheIndonesianfoodstallpointingfranticallyatthedrinksdispenser.Theelderlymanbehindthe

counterlaughedsohardhespilledhalfofDeansCokeontothebenchasDeanwaspracticallydancing

bytimehethrewthedrinkbackdownhisthroat.

Tenminutesandtwocomplementarybottlesofwaterlater,Deangothisvoiceback.Sarahfinished

hisplateoffoodasheaskedherwhathedjusttriedtoeat.

Chilli,mostly.

Howcanyoueatsomethingthathot?Deantookanotherswigofwaterandwipedhiseyes.

Mygrandmausedtomakeitforme.Sarahmissedhergrandmotherscooking;noonemadespicy

foodquitelikeGrandmaAtalas.Sarahfeltherselflickherlipsatthememory.

Didyour

grandmother

hate

you?

Sometimes,saidSarah.ShesmiledatDeanagain.Thecoilinherchesttwitchedasshemethiseyes.

Itwasgoingtohavetobesoon.Sheshouldneverhaveleftitsolong,butitwasgettinghardfindingthe

rightpeople.

Idbettergetbackandfinishtheinking,sinceyoupaidme.Deanseyeswereblueandclearand

stayedonhersdespitetheridiculousoutfitshedstuffedherselfinto.

Shefollowedhimbacktowardstheshowfloor,walkingbyasupplycloset.Thecoilinherchest

twitchedagain,hardthistime.

Cmereasecond,shesaidtoDean.

Weshouldgetback.Vicsnotreallygoodatwatchingthetable,saidDean.Sarahgrippedthefront

ofDeans

shirt

and

pulled

on

the

door

handle.

The

tinny

little

lock

in

the

handle

snapped

under

the

strain.

Thecoilstrainedandvibratedwiththeeffort.

Wow,saidDeanassheyankedhimintotheroomwithher.Sarahkissedhimhard,drawinghimfor

ward.Deanwasstilltryingtotalkasshepulledhimtightagainsther.Slowlyhebegantokissherback.

ImagesrolledlazilyacrosshermindasDeansenergyflowedintoher.Ablankpageflutteredacrossher

mind,thenadrawingofanoldmaninabed,asmileonhisface.Morepagesflippedacrosshermindas

thecoilsuckedDeansfutureintoitself.

ApagewithseveralsmallchildrenhangingontoDean,older,heavierbutstillwiththefussylittle

beardlingeredforamoment.ThecoilroaredinSarahsmind,demandingmore.Shefeltbetterthanshe

hadinmonths.Deanslipsburningagainsthers,hishandrunningupanddownherback.Shewonderedif

hecouldfeelhisfutureslippingaway.Heunlockedhislipsandbegankissingherneck,hislifestillflowed

againsther.

She

saw

him

sitting

at

adesk,

ahuge

crowd

flocking

around

him

all

holding

money

out.

A

stackofbookswithhisnameonitdancedinfronthereyes.

Deanbrokeawayfor,staringatSarah.Hislifestillflowedthroughherhands.Shecouldntseeany

thingbutthedrawingsofhislifeastheyflitteredthroughhermind.

Sarah,IThelastdrawingshesawwasher,stillnotinkedproperly.Halfsketchandhalfreal.

Deanfelltothefloor.Sarahfeltarushofjoy,sopureitflowedthroughhernerveendingslikeelectric

ity.Shefeltstrongagain.Powerful.

Guilty.

March2010

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9/46

ShelookeddownatDean,sawhispulsebeatingweaklyathisthroat,hishearttyingtopumpblood

aroundabodythatdidnthaveafuture.Sheknewwhathappenednext,knewshedhavetoleavetown

forawhile,moveontoanotherconventionsomewhere.Maybeshecouldgotoanunnery;surelythered

befoodthere?

ThememoriesofDeanslifelingered.Sherememberedherpicture,stillburningwiththelifeDeans

handshadimbuedinit.

Damnit.Sarahburstoutofthecloset.Sprintingdownthehallwaytotheconventionfloor,she

brushed

her

hands

past

two

men

as

she

ran

between

them.

The

coil

didnt

so

much

as

murmur.

Fuck,

shemutteredassheranon.

Sarahburstintothemainroom.Theafterlunchcrowdhadshownup.Menandwomen,butmostly

men,intootightsuperherooutfits.Little,bespectacledkids.Sarahsteeredherselfawayfromthekids,

grandmawouldhavekilledherifshedgonethere.

Shedeliberatelyranintotheonlylikelylookingsuspectwhodpaintedhimselfgreen,hisponderous

stomachhangingoverapairofpurpleshorts.Shecollidedwiththegreenbodypaint,pullingbackatthe

lastminutetokeepfromknockinghimover.Ashecursedandblunderedbackwards,thecoilstayedstill.

Somehow,hewasntedibleeither.

ShespottedVictorfromfiftyfeetaway.

VictorlookedupfromhisbooktoseeSarahbearingdownonhim,runningfullcliponbadhighheels

asthe

green

painted

man

yelled

after

her

to

watch

where

she

was

going.

Victor,shepantedathim.

Mmm?saidVictor.Sarahreachedoutahandandgrippedhiswrist.StillgluttedonDeanslife,the

coilgaveatiny,lazytwitch,butitwassomething.

Dean,heneedsyou.Shetriedtohaulhimup.

Alreadywatchinghisstuff,saidVictor.Hesmelledalotworseupclose,hiswristwasgreasyunder

herfingers.Sarahgrippedharder,lettingthecoiladditsstrengthtohers.ShefeltthebonesinVictors

wristrubagainsteachother.

Listenyougreasyfuck,yourfriendneedsyouandyouregoingtocomeandhelporImgoingtotell

everyonehereatthetopofmylungsthatyouvenevertouchedagirlwhowasntmadeoffuckingplas

tic.Mmph,saidVictor.Theyknow.HegotupanywayandSarahdraggedthroughthecrowdsofpeo

ple.Shewasdefinitelygoingtohavetoleavetown.Maybeevenchangehernameagain.Theimageof

Deansdrawingstillburnedinhermind.ShesilentlyprayedthatnoonehadfoundDeanyet,otherwise

therewouldbenothinganyonecoulddoforhim.

Sheyankedopenthedoortothecloset,seeingDeanstilllyingamongstthebrooms.Hishearthad

sloweddownevenmore,justthefaintestofbeatsvisibleinhisneck.

Shit,saidVictor.HestoodandstaredatDeansbody.Whatshouldwedo?HeturnedtoSarahas

shedrovethetipsofherfingersintohisabdomen.Thiswasntoneofhergrandmastricks.Sheremem

beredtheraspofhergreatgreatgrandmothersvoiceasittoldherintheoldtonguetodigintohisstom

ach.Sheletherfingersgrowlong,lettingthecoilsenergydrivethemthroughVictorsshirt,throughthe

layerof

fat

over

his

stomach.

Victor

opened

his

mouth

to

scream

as

Sarah

lunged

forward

and

sank

her

teethintohisthroat,crushinghiswindpipebeneathit.

AtinywheezecameoutofVictorsmouthashethrashedagainsther.

Grandmaneverdiditthisway.Shedalwayssaidtotakesoftly,leavethemwithagoodmemoryanda

pulse.Yougetmoretimethatway.

Therewereotherwaysthough,andSarahpressedherfingersindeeper.Feelingthesquichofhisin

testineunderthepadsofherfingers.Victorslammedameatyfistintothesideofherhead,butSarah

pressedherheadintotheblow,takingitonthetopofherhead.Shespoketothecoil,tellingittodrink.It

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10/46

tookamoment,stillfullofDeanslife,foritsresponse.Shescreamedatitinherhead,tellingittotake

everything.Victorspasmedtwice,jerkingbackandforwardandthencollapsedaroundherhands.She

drewonward,watchinghisskinstripawayanddisappearintotheholeinhisgut.Hismusclesfollowed,

andhishairandeyes;eachoneflowedintothehole,andthenoutintoherfingers.

Sheletgoofhisthroat.Victorhadnothingleftwithwhichtoscream.Ithadntbeenmorethanamin

utewhenshewasleftwithherfingersstillinhisintestinesasthecoilbrokedownVictorsbonesand

suckedtheminunderherclaws.Herarmsrippledandbulgedassheabsorbedhim.Shedidntseeany

images;

instead

she

felt

Victors

life

flow

into

her.

All

at

once,

she

felt

the

surge

of

so

much

power

in

her

thatshecouldseetheglowofhereyesagainstthebackwall.Sheblinkedandlookeddown.Rightatthe

end,astheintestinesthemselvesdisappearedintoher,shefeltonelongnoteofsadnessdrawnacross

hermind,andthenitwasgone.Therewasasmallpileofclothesonthefloor,apairofjeans,awornt

shirt,sneakers.

Thecoilwasburstingwithlife.

SarahleantdowntoDeanandshesawhisfacewaspaleanddrawninthelightofhereyes.Sheplaced

herlipsonhisforehead.Thecoilrebelled,butSarahwasmerciless,bearingherwilldownonituntilit

gaveupDeansdrawings.Hisfutureflowedbackintohim,shesawtheoldDeanonhisdeathbedflowin

reversethroughhermind.Ittookfarlongertogivethembackthanitdidtotakethem,andhereand

there,shegavehimanoteofVictor,shecouldnthelpit.

Thefinal

drawing

of

her

flowed

into

her

mind.

She

opened

her

eyes

and

saw

that

the

dimness

in

the

closethadreturned.Deansheartbeatwasfirmandflowingagain,beatinghisfuturearoundhisstillform.

Sarahplantedakissonhislips.

Imsorry,shesaid.SarahleftDeaninthecloset.Shefiguredshehadabouthalfanhourbeforehe

wokeuporsomeonefoundhim.ShewonderedifanyonewouldlookforVictor.Ittookherfifteenmin

utestogetclearoftheconventioncentreandintoataxi.Oneofherheelshadbroken.

Shesatdownintothebackofayellowcabwithasigh.MaybeshedmovetoWashingtonforaspell,

shedheardtheydidagoodcomicconventionthere.TherewasalwaysthatriskshedseeDeanthereof

course.Shedhavetocheckhiswebsiteandseeifhewasgoingtogo.

Roughgig?Sarahopenedhereyesandsawthetaxidriverhadturnedaroundinhisseat.Hewinked

ather

through

wire

rimmed

glasses.

Youhavenoidea.Sarahgavetheaddressofthemoteltothedriver,andastheypulledoutintotraf

fic,sheleanedherheadbackinherseatandtriedtorememberthenameofDeanswebsite.Sarah

smiled.Shedfindhim.

~*~2009AndrewJack

AndrewJacklivesinChristchurch,NewZealand,wherehesworkingonhisfirstfulllengthfictionnovel

TheDownsideofBeingDead.Hisprogresscanbefollowedonhisblog.*Backgroundimage2005GaborPalla

March2010

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IssueV

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2009 Full Moon Press Forever Nocturne

Volume I, Issue V

St op

Tiny splinters with angry heads quiet be-fore the sparkPleading falls on ears filled with liesYou swing your gavel, striking rotted woodYour kingdom splits as maggots mature to

flies

Running ahead blinded by justice provedfalseA dagger plunged straight into a true backYou snatch your hatchet to bury in moldedgroundYour reality crumbles as green spores attack

A forest for the trees is missedWaterfalls dry up from the heat of ireYou strike and ignore the roarYour bridge to me dissolves in the fire

2009 H. C. Zuerner

Poets CornerAging Reality

A long, hard life

Steeped in pain and excitement

Lifes erosionShows its effect

Cracks and crevicesMire my faade

Challenges and triumphsDraw a road map of experience

Scars and bruises

Paint a portrait of undying fortitude

Do I appear that different to you?Do I no longer appeal?

The core is the sameMy love unchanged

My shell reflects my experienceMy heart exudes my desire

Judge me not by my presentation

Judge my actions and my soul

Take no pitySympathy, I do not require

Remember who I am insideNot my worn appearance

2009 T. Hoffman

Photo 2008 NL Gervasio

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2010 Running Ink Press Forever Nocturne

Volume I, Issue V

TheRoadLessTraveled

Its old,overgrown,forgotten,or its new

and has never been used.

Dark and mysteriousits a path in our lives

we dont like to go downpretend its not there

the place where all the what ifs liveall the should of, could of, would ofs play

Dance around

calling out the namesof the people afraid to live

afraid to take a chance

Poets Corner

Its the place we dont talk about

as we go onacting as if nothing has happeneda road of mistakes we dont want to learn

fromwe guard it with caution signs

DoNotEnterBut for those brave few willing to change

to make amendsthis is nothing more than a fightto take back the nightto take back their lives

and to live the way they see fit

2010 E.M. Halvorson

Photo 2010NL Gervasio

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Alice in WonderlandPG for fantasy action/violence involving scary images and situations

and for a smoking caterpillar.

Running Time: 1 Hour 48 Minutes

Walt Disney Pictures tapped director Tim Burton for this re-imagining of the 3D fantasy

adventureAlice in Wonderland. This time around, it's a magical and imaginative twist on

one of the most beloved stories of all time. Johnny Depp stars as the Mad Hatter and

Mia Wasikowska stars as 19-year-old Alice who returns to the world she first encoun-

tered as a young girl. Of course, along the way she's reunited with her childhood

friendsthe White Rabbit, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, the Dormouse, Caterpillar,

The Cheshire Cat, and of course, the Mad Hatter.

With the duo of Burton and Depp together once again, it's obvious this will be one color-ful ride into Wonderland.

Why Is A Raven Like A Writing Desk?

This is not theAlice in Wonderland you grew up with as a kid. It's 13 years later and this

time around Alice embarks on a journey to find her true destiny and end the Red Queen's

reign of terror in Wonderland. Along the way, she tries to connect fantasy, dream and even reality as she interacts with a number of interesting

characters. Linda Woolverton wrote the screenplay for this updated twist on the old story. She does a wonderful job of recapturing and recasting

the wonder of Lewis Carroll's 1865 bookAlice in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass.

I went into the movie with an open mind. I like the duo of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp. But I must also admit, sometimes Burton's flicks are too

predictable. It's not quite like the old saying of - if you've seen one Burton movie you've seen them all - but it is close. The techniques are the same

and the twists and turns are as similar as your daily drive to and from work.

However, when all is said and done, I have to admit I really enjoyed Alice in Wonderland.

This is not the same old same old when it comes to the eclectic style of Burton and Depp. If anything, Burton has tapped into an incredible balance

of brilliant colors and drab grays. As for Johnny Depp, he seemed somewhat invigorated in his portrayal of the Mad Hatter. He makes the character

his own, while at the same time enables it to jump off the screen with creativity, fun, adventure and life. As for others involved inAlice in Wonder-

land, it truly is an all-star cast. Anne Hathaway, Helena Bonham Carter and Crispin Glover all add a sense of zest and excitement, truly making this

Movie poster 2010 Disney

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an adventure to remember.

An Attention to Detail

I love Tim Burton's attention to detail in all he does. Not only do the scenes come to life, but he leaves no dangling thoughts along the way either...

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

Even that somewhat odd and out of place phrase is connected by the end of the movie. When it comes to special effects and computer generatedgraphics, I believe Tim Burton does it better than James Cameron. The effects inAvatarseem flat compared to the 3D feel ofAlice in Wonder-

land, even on a normal screen.

The story and plot lines ofAlice in Wonderland could have been very complicated. Not only does it include the new twist to an old story, but it also

connects the old story with the new. This is where Burton's attention to detail really shines. Everything weaves together quite well. Alice in Wonder-

land reveals the storytelling brilliance of not only Burton as a director, but also of Johnny Depp as a character.

Disney Misses Rating 'Again'!

The only downside of Alice in Wonderland is the rating. Once again, Disney misses the mark when it comes to age appropriate.

With a PG rating, we have to sayAlice in Wonderland is not family-friendly. As a matter of fact, when I screened the movie, parents were taking

some of their younger children out of the theater. Perhaps the filmmakers should have taken a cue from inside their own movie. Alice is sufferingfrom nightmares as a result of her first trip to Wonderland when she was just 7 years old. The movie starts with her screaming as she awakes from

her nightmare. Then, even when she's older, she's still having bad flashbacks about her first trip to Wonderland. This is a very accurate depiction of

how the mind of a young child works.

Psychologically, children usually do not start distinguishing between fantasy and reality until about the age of 11 or 12. As a result, a PG-13 rating

would have been better forAlice in Wonderland. While this is in no way is a totally over-the-top violent movie, the content is still too much for the

really young. So, if you plan to take your kids to this movie, keep in mind that a more appropriate rating would have been PG-13.

This is far from the family-friendly Alice in Wonderland

original movie.

Overall, I really enjoyedAlice in Wonderland and believe it even tops the Burton/Depp combination in the 2005 hit Charlie and the Chocolate Fac-

tory. I have to admit I would see this movie for a second time and might actually visit a 3D IMAX theater to do just that.

Enjoy the show!

Dr. Rus

2010 Dr. Rus D. Jeffrey

For more information visit Frame by Frame online at: http://framebyframe.godlaughs.net

Dr. Rus gives this movie 4 Lloyds

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Sherri Collins stared down route 202, her large eyes nar-rowed to slits of chocolate and a deep furrow between her finebrows. Gary was supposed to have been here an hour ago. He

was late as usual.Damn it, she hissed and turned to look at the little

house as if it might agree with her.Gary knew she had to be to work at 9 and that it would

take them two hours to unload the truck his father had letthem borrow. It was six-thirty and the only way shed get to

work on time now was if she suddenly developed the ability toteleport herself back to Portland.

Shed arrived at 5:30 just like shed promised and didnt

appreciate having had to get up at four in order to do it just sohe could be late. Hell, she hadnt even had a coffee yet and

THERES WATER IN THE HOUSE.

Her brow unfurrowed. Thats right. Theyd had the waterturned on, hadnt they? And gas had been delivered and thatugly harvest gold stove that looked like it belonged in a restau-rant rather than in the kitchen of the little house Gary was buy-ing. There was a jar of coffee in the cupboard over the sinkbecause theyd bought groceries yesterday since they plannedon spending the weekend getting settled into the place.

Sherri started toward the house after shooting anotherchocolate dagger down Arundels route 202. It was a nice

house; only three years old and Gary would never have anotheropportunity like this to buy a house that sat on a two acres ofland at the ridiculously low price that this place was being of-fered at: thirty-six thousand and five hundred dollars.

When shed heard the price shed not only balked, sheddemanded to know what was wrong with it. The real estateagent, Mr. Bodkins, had assured her that the house was struc-turally sound, legally wired and plumbed, and then had reluc-tantly explained that the reason the price was so low on thelittle two bedroom place was because it had been built over

what had once been a large garbage dump. Of course, the firstthing shed thought then was that the house was sitting on athousand barrels of toxic waste. Bodkins had laughed and as-

sured her that was not the case; it would never have made itthrough the stringent building codes and inspections if thatwere true.

She paused and studied the place. It didnt look like a pigand there was no dock close by. So why did she feel like theplace was a distant relative of the Amityville Horror?

There wasnt anything visibly wrong with the place: theroof and white siding were new, the windows and doors sound.Nothing outside or inside looked wrong, and Bodkins wasright; it had passed every inspection thrown at it by the Townand Banks involved in its sale. The land around the house wasgorgeous. The oak trees spread over the yard were tall and

healthy, the weeping willow tree full and beautiful, the lawnlush and greener than any of the others on the road. Themarigolds, morning glories, and bachelor buttons were bril-liant and growing thickly. The land held some rises and falls,but that only added to its attractiveness. Sowhy did theplace give her such a severe case of the heebie-jeebies?

COME HAVE SOME COFFEE, SHERRI.

Coffee? She closed her eyes and rubbed her left templeidly.

THE COFFEE IS GOOD IN HERE, SHERRI. BESTYOU EVER HAD. I PROMISE.

The house keys dropped out of her hand and clatteredon the little cement walkway. Her eyes snapped open andsuddenly she wanted nothing more to do with this place. She

wanted Gary to get here fast and then shed tell him that theycouldnt buy it after all. Shed changed her mind. Something

was definitely wrong with it. Let someone else have thedamned thing. Let someone else drink its coffee.

BUT YOU WANT THE COFFEE, SHERRI. YOUNEED IT. YOURE JUST OVERREACTING BECAUSE

YOURE TIRED. THATS ALL. COME IN FOR SOMECOFFEE. YOULL FEEL BETTER.

Was she nuts or what? She snatched up the fallen keysand unlocked the door. What on earth was she thinking?

Thered never e another chance to get a house like this. Thisplace was perfect for them. They had saved enough moneyto fix it up and, after a year or so, theyd sell it for four orfive times as much as theyd paid for it. Then theyd use thatmoney to get another house and flip that one too. Theydkeep on doing that until they had the money to buy thehouse of their dreams, and theyd make a boatload of moneydoing it. That was their dream, wasnt it? And no case of thecreeps was going to steal that away from them.

Inside the kitchen the smell of fresh paint made hercrinkle her nose in distaste. She set her pocketbook on the

counter by the stainless steel sink and thought shed open afew windows to air the place out. First, shed put some wateron to boil. After filling the tea kettle with water she set it onone of the burners and turned the flame on beneath it, thenstepped back, frowning at the stove.

It really was hideous. It was too big and too old andtook up too much room in the kitchen. She didnt like gaseither; it made her nervous. Shed rather have one of thoseelectric stoves without burners that still somehow managedto cooked things. Shed seen one like that at Sears at theMaine Mall, and after the salesman had shown her all its fea-

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tures, shed decided shed get one of those to replace this oldclunker. It was her kitchen, after all.

The teakettle whistled and she jumped where she stood.She must have zoned out for a minute because it seemed likeshed just put the kettle on. She shut the flame off, found acup, spoon and the coffee and sugar, and made herself a steam-ing hot cup. As she lifted the cup to her lips an icy chill racedup her spine and she shivered, nearly spilling the dark fluid.

Someone just walked over my grave, she mumbled andtook a drink.

And the Lord sat back after hed created the universe andall that was in it, took a drink of coffee and said it was good,she grinned, looking down into the depths of the dark fluid.

Shed forgotten to put milk in but that was okay. It tastedwonderful. Sweet and soothing and, before she knew it, thecup was empty and an oddly pungent sense of utter loss filledher. The coffee was gone and she suddenly felt as if shed beendeprived of the right to breath. The coffee was gone and itshouldnt be. Couldnt be. She had to have more. A millioncups more. She

Sherri leaped to her feet and quickly made herself anothercup of the stuff. With her first sip she felt great relief and thenfrowned, wondering when shed sat down at the table. She

didnt remember having done it Suddenly she wanted toleave the house. She wanted to get the hell out of here andmake herself puke until all the coffee gurgled up out of her. It

was bad coffee. It did bad things and now it was inside her.The house had tricked her!

DRINK THE COFFEE, SHERRI. ITS GOOD STUFF,NOT BAD. DRINK IT.

Sherri lifted the cup and downed the contents in one longgulp.

HAVE SOME MORE.

She made another cup and left the sugar out this time butit didnt matter. It still tasted wonderful. Calming. Then shenoticed the ashes and blinked stupidly at them because sheshould have noticed them before but hadnt.

A trail of white ashes led from the stove, over to the sink,and back to the stove. There werent any footprints. No littlemousy footprints. She started to giggle then laugh and stag-gered back to lean against the counter to keep from falling.

YOU SEE? I TOLD YOU IT WAS GOOD STUFF,

DIDNT I?

Yes, she gasped between bouts of hysterical laughterthat shook her entire body until she collapsed onto the floor.

The cup of coffee dropped with her and spilled next to her,spreading into a glistening pool.

She tried to get up but her legs were rubber and shecouldnt stop laughing even though her eyes were wide withfright. She couldnt stop laughing and couldnt take her eyesoff of the little puddle of coffee.

It was movinggathering into itself and bubbling as if itwere being cooked at the rolling boil. It curled in on itselfand slowly, so slowly, washed over toward the broiler drawerof the stove. It flattened out then seemed to rise off the floorlike an ocean wave. It rose and little tornadoes began spin-ning and rising and then it wasnt just a pool of coffee any-more. It was a hand. A dark, liquid hand that turned its line-less palm away from her and then began curling its fingersbeckoning her forward.

No, she rasped, barely able to breath, she was laugh-ing so hard.

And the hand gracefully motioned for her to come to it.

COME ON, SHERRI. ITS NOT SO BAD. ITLL BEFUN. WOULD I LIE TO YOU?

Her body started to crawl forward and she wanted toscream, but all she could do was laugh. Her mind and bodyhad become separate entities and neither was listening to theother because of the coffee shed drank. No. Not the coffee,she realized, still trying to get her body to stop moving for-

ward. It had been the water that the coffee had been madewith. The water that came from somewhere under the house,in the land that had once been a garbage dump.

She was just inches from the glistening hand now and itturned, bent at its liquid wrist, and picked up the car keysshed dropped. Metal jingled against metal. The fingers

curled into a fist then popped open and the keys were gone.Poof! And what dropped to the floor from the coffee hand

was a little pile of white ashes.Sherri was hiccoughing now. If she didnt stop laughing

soon, shed die because she wasnt getting any air. She wasntgetting

The hand exploded and tiny drops of coffee splatteredher face and long hair, then the pool was back, dark and glis-tening like some black crystal. The fluid rolled and tossedtiny waves back and forth across itself. Two tentacles rose,swirled around each other then tipped onto their side andbounced gently. Lips, Sherri realized. They looked like lips.

More fluid rose up behind the black lips, stretching up

and up until egg shaped overall filled the space behind thelips. The oval bulged and bubbled. Four holes popped into it.A smooth, rippling nose pushed out from the oval. Abovethat, eyes began taking shape. Then cheeks and a chin and it

was Garys face. He smiled at her with eyes that had slits ofnothing where the pupils should have been. He smiled andfor a moment the fear left her; she was still laughing but nowit was real laughter. Everything was going to be all right now.Gary was here. He wouldnt let anything happen to her.

The smile faded from Garys face. The black lips openedwider and wider until she could see the black tongue and theblack teeth. The sound that filled her mind was not an audi-

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ble one yet it made her ear drums rattle and her teeth grindtogether. He was screaming. Silently screaming her name overand over. The face twisted into a mask of agonizing pain, rip-pled, then exploded in a rain of black coffee that felt like hail asit pelted her face and neck.

Sherri wasnt laughing anymore. She was squealingkeeningshrieking because the black drops were moving onher skin. The stuff ran down her face, into her eyes, nose, andmouth. Drops trickled down her neck and arms, burning angryred welts into her flesh. Tendrils of smoke rose from her jeansand t-shirt where the fiery fluid burned through the cloth, leav-ing perfectly round holes behind. The molten black fluid foundher flesh and seared into it as if a thousand cigarettes pressedon her skin all at once.

She staggered to her feet, pounding and swiping at themany pinpricks of fire, trying to put them out, to stop themburning. But they were everywhere now, all over her body. Inher hair and eyes, racing up and down her throat, burning herfrom the inside out even as she burned from the outsidein. She swiped at it, trying to pull off her t-shirt, whirling, spin-ning in the middle of the kitchen floor, jumping up and down,beating her body as little flames ate at it, spreading around toencompass her entirely. Her whole body was one five foot two

inch blue flame now, and the last thing she saw before her eyesexploded and collapsed into her charred face was the growingpile of white ashes at her feet.

The windows on the left side of the kitchen snapped open.The ceiling fan began to whirl, faster and faster until the ashesrose up and up, caught in a white tornado, spinning wildly. Theexhaust fan over the stove turned on. The ashes slowly seepedthrough it, out into the open air where a fresh breeze caughtand carried them across the yard and spread them over theland. For a moment the sound of a soft, whispering sighrushed across the curving land, through the leaves, grass, flow-ers and over to the house. Its friend, the house.

It had been angry when the men had closed the dump andhad come in with the dozers to turn the soil. It had liked the

things that that the men had brought it to eat. It had liked theflames and rats and birds and other small animals that some-times got near enough to become a meal. But the men hadclosed the dump, stopped feeding it, and then other men hadcome and built the house. It had been angry at first, so angrythat it had taken two of the construction workers. That was

when it had discovered that it could think and that it liked thetaste of the men.

It learned there were going to be long tubes called pipesput into the house, pipes that would reach well down into itsbelly so that the men things could drink the lands water. It

was water, though it didnt think it had always been water. Itthought that at one time it might have been some of the stuff

in those large green barrels that two men had buried in thedump one night while no one else had been around. One ofthose men had accidentally dunked his finger into the silveryfluid contained in one of the barrels. It remembered that theman had yanked his hand back missing that finger. It didntreally remember what had happened next and it didnt care.

The finger had been good. It had done something to thesilvery stuff, which in turn had done something to the waterthat the next group of men had tapped into. Then that youngman had broken into the house and had fallen asleep afterdrinking some of it. It had learned more inside the young man,and that meal had been very good.

It didnt get to eat as often as it wanted to, but the mealswere better now and each time it learned something morebefore it ashed them. It took things out of their heads the

way hed taken the mans face out of Sherris. Yes. It likedthis and it had fun. It just wished men came to the housemore often.

The exhaust fan shut off. The ceiling fan slowed to astop. The kitchen was now clear of the black smoke that hadfilled it while Sherri had been ashed. The sound of a truckrumbling up the driveway came. It turned on the fire underthe thing Sherri had called a teakettle, then withdrew a littlefrom the house. Maybe Gary would like a cup of coffee too;it chuckled, and the trees, grass and flowers danced with itslaughter.

Gary jumped out of the truck and sauntered up the littlewalkway smiling. The house was beautiful and the lawnseemed even greener than it had yesterday. He stepped intothe kitchen.

Sorry Im late, babe, he said but saw the kitchen wasempty.

He guessed that Sherri must be upstairs doing some-thing. The teakettle whistled; he shut it off, then decided hedmake a cup of coffee before he went up to face her. She

really hated that he was always late. He couldnt help it.Things justdistracted him easily; hed lose track of timeand theyd have a little argument and then theyd make up.Making love for the first time in the new house wouldnt be abad thing. He grinned.

He spotted a cup on the floor and picked it up. A dropof coffee fell onto his fingers and he instantly had a head-ache.

HAVE SOME COFFEE, GARY. IN A MINUTE, ITWONT MATTER IF SHERRIS MAD AT YOU. YOULLLIKE THE COFFEE. YOULL LIKE IT A LOT. IPROMISE.

Yeah, Gary nodded, headache forgotten. Hed like a cupof coffee. That would be just fine.

2010 Cheryl Tracy

In order to love youI must be able to watchAs you whither awayLeaving this now-beatingheartAlone

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I used to be able to run for miles without gettingtired or winded. My voice, pitched low, wasbarely audible over the crackle of the driftwoodfire, but I knew without looking that hed heardwith no trouble. I couldnt look at him as I talked;instead, I stared into the flames, watching themlick at the midnight sky with greedy tongues oforange and green.

Despair wasnt the only reason I avoided hisgaze; embarrassment kept my eyes averted. Howpitiful I must seem to his species; how unimagina-tive, how limited. No wonder Raum had left; his

disdain for my human frailty must have slid in-exorably into disgust.

And strongLord, was I strong. Heavyloads had seemed light as a feather, and my legshad been able to propel me to the roof of a one-story house. Id only needed four hours of sleepeach night and could eat anything, and as much asI wanted.

But beyond those things had been that feelingof being special, chosen. An angel had chosenmeme, Suzanne Harperover all the other hu-

mans on earth, and had shared with me some ofhis extraordinary abilities. Id come as close asanyone ever would to knowing what it was like tobe one of the malakh.

You said there was a man involved in yourrift with Zanna. Will you tell me about him?

Id rather not talk about him.Why not? It could be important. If Raum

killed your best friend, he could go after this man.He may need ourthe angelsprotection.

I dont think it

What dont you want me to know? His nar-rowed eyes seemed golden in the firelight, but itwas impossible to tell. Theyd changed colors sooften since Id met him that I couldnt rememberwhat theyd originally beennot that Id seentheir real color. His slip in the caf had been sounexpected and brief that I hadnt been able totake in all the details.

Nothing. It was just so long ago, I dontSuzanne, Russ said patiently. Zanna is

dead. Dead. The next person in line as far as im-portance to you is the man that came betweenyou.

Again I looked away, this time in shame.He was dating her first, I admitted reluctantly.She was certain he was The One, so she wantedme to meet him.

And oh, how excited Zanna had been tohave two of her favorite people meet and be-come friends. Had she noticed the instant elec-tricity between us, the force like two magnetspropelling us toward each other? No, I ratherdoubted she had. She had been too wrapped upin her own happiness to see the vibrant attrac-tion that had flared between Ian and me. Andhadnt there been a part of me that had justifiedthat attraction because I was the more beautifulof us two? Yes, there was no doubt that I had.

And you stole him, Russ surmised with hisusual uncomfortable bluntness.I closed my eyes, mortified at the turn our

conversation had taken since we sat down in thesand. I stole him.

Malakh IVMalakh IVSIOBHAN MACINTYRE

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So Zanna had every reason not to speak toyou all these years.

Yes. I justified it because I thought Zanna wasplain, and since I was more attractive I deserved aman like Ian Reid. She could go find someone elsewho fit her looks. I thought that and a lot more.Tears crept down my cheeks, but neither of usmentioned them. I had harbored this guilt in deep

in my heart for six yearsthe three years Id spentwith Ian, and the three years since Id left him forRaum. And now Zanna was dead; I would neverhave the chance to tell her how wrong Id been,how sorry I was for what Id done.

A sob escaped my clamped lips. I plastered ahand over my mouth, but nothing would holdback my grief. Too late, too lateId come to re-pentance too late to make any difference, and Iwould have to live with that for the rest of my life,however long that might be with a rogue angel

hunting me.His arm slid around me, and he pulled me

against him. His hand pressed my cheek to hischest; my tears flowed over it in an unrelentingstream. He offered no trite words of comfort, and Iwas glad for it. Zanna was dead because of me,and she had died with her heart broken by myactions. I deserved no comfort.

A long while later I sat hiccupping into Russssilent chest, my tears dried by the heat from thefire. His hand still cradled my face, and with fur-

tive guilt I took comfort from its warm pressure.Sleep, Suzanne, he murmured, and with re-

lief I let consciousness swirl away and sank grate-fully into oblivion.

The sun was wrong when I next opened my eyes.At first I couldnt place why, and then I realized ithung in the sky more to the west than the east. Idslept through the night and most of the day. Myhead was pillowed on a plastic shopping bagdraped over a mound of sand. Russ sat motionless

a few feet away, watching the surf crash onto theshore. Gulls wheeled overhead; the wind carriedtheir shrieks away from the sea, making themsound deceptively distant. I wondered vaguely iftheyd managed to crap on any part of my body asI lay here in the shade of a pile of driftwood.

No, the shielding protects you from bird craptoo, Russ said distractedly.

Howd you know I was thinking that?You were talking in your sleep a while ago.

He finally turned to look at me, offering a trou-bled smile. We should get going. I had plannedon going to Zannas yesterday, but apparently Ihave been driving you too hard. You needed thesleep.

Is something wrong, Russ?He shrugged. Ive been hunting him for so

long, I cant believe Im so close.

I sat up and stretched. Midway through ajaw-cracking yawn, I realized what hed said. Ithought you didnt know who was huntinghim?

Poor choice of words, he replied, frown-ing. He turned, scattering sand across my jeans.All angels have responsibilities. Some are sentto watch over the humans. Others watch overthe other angels. Yet others are fallen angelhuntersnot a pleasant job.

A fallen angel hunter is who was after

Raum? Hes fallen angel?Russ made an impatient sound. Hes mur-

dering people, Suzanne. Of course hes fallen,but not in the terms youre thinking of. Hes notone of the original rebellion. Ive been a watcher,over both humans and angels. Now Im called tobe a hunter because the last onewell, obvi-ously he failed. But Raums just His hand,resting on his thigh, clenched into a tight fist.always one step ahead of me.

My stomach growled, ending his introspec-

tion. He rummaged in the grocery bag besidehim and handed me the jar of cashews. Iscrewed off the top and dove in. His odd, dis-tracted demeanor faded into the background as Ichomped my way through a quarter of the nutsleft in the jar. When the hunger pangs hadabated, he silently handed me a bottle of juice.The juice barely touched my thirst.

Is there a bottle of water in there? Im reallythirsty.

No, but we can get some on our way to

Zannas.I bit my lip. Explain to me again why wehave to go there?

Im hoping he left some sort of clue that willlead me to him.

Hes been too smart for that so far.If he left a clue, it wouldnt be by mistake. It

would be a challenge to me to find him; I haveto take the risk of him laying a trap for me. Areyou ready? Have you rested enough?

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20/46

I nodded, gathering my trash. Wed spent thenight on a strip of beach with parking and otheramenities. I was amazed we hadnt been roustedand run off during the night. As we passed a trashreceptacle, I smiled hesitantly at the girl standingnext to it. She stared at my left eyebrow and thenturned away without a change in expression. Iraised a brow at Russ, but he only shrugged again

and tugged me toward the sidewalk.We walked with steadfast determination,

mostly silent. Russ held my hand in a loose grip,feeding me strength to keep exhaustion at bay. Westopped to rest on the edge of Rizal Park, and hewaited until we were lounging on the grassy edgeof the park to let go of my hand and withdrew hisstrengthhis way of making me rest. Wearinessflooded through me in an instant. I was onlyvaguely aware of leaning heavily against hisshoulder, and of him easing me down to pillow

my head in his lap.The sun was nearly set when I woke. It burned

the clouds in a glorious display of crimson, or-ange, and gold. I stretched and sat up, my stom-ach gurgling.

Russ glanced at me, amused. Hungry al-ready?

Unlike you, I replied tartly, I have to eatevery few hours.

Good point. He rummaged in the plasticgrocery sack and tossed me a bag of teriyaki jerky.

That should tide you over.Much more walking, Russ, and Im going to

need new jeans. In just the three days since Idmet him, my jeans had started to fit loosely.

Were almost done, I think.I paused midway through biting a thick piece

of jerky in half. Done? Is heis he close?Closer, he stressed. Were right to go to

Zannas; I think hes left me a clue. OtherwiseHe trailed into silence for a long time.

Otherwise? I prompted.

Otherwise I wouldnt sense him at all. I justcant pinpoint him. The edge of frustration in hissteely voice made me glad he was not hunting me.

And then what? Youre going to confront himafter hes murdered God knows how many peo-ple? Are you crazy?

He quirked a funny little smile in my direc-tion. Insanity is an affliction of your species butnever mine.

You cant call what hes doing the actions of a

sane being, I argued.Not sane as you define it. In human terms,

in other words, with our limited understandingand penchant for filing everyone away in tidylittle boxes with definitive labels.

ButSuzanne, he broke in with a trace of impa-

tience. Were good, or were bad. Its as simple

as that. Acts of depravity amongst the fallendont indicate a lack of sanity, just a lack of re-gard for morality.

I still thinkYou want some comfort in the face of what

hes done, and I can understand that. But youcant let that desire blind you to reality. Hescompletely cognizant of what hes doing, and hemade a deliberate decision to do it.

I subsided into silence, stung by his sharp-ness. Was I wrong to hope against all hope that

we were wrong, that it was some other angelmurdering humans and framing Raum for it?

Im sorry, he said finally, his tone concilia-tory. I didnt mean to be so harsh. Im justafraid that if you get your hopes too high thatIm wrong about him, youre going to be hurtexponentially when Im proven right.

Maybe you wont be.He favored me with a pitying look. I have it

on the highest authority. Hes the angel respon-sible. Finish your jerky. We still have another

hour or so of walking.I needed no further encouragement. I fell to

with gusto, and in short order had polished offthe jerky, leaving nothing to show for my mealbut slightly sticky fingers. He handed me an-other bottle of juice, and I was relieved to seethat this time it was grape.

Feeling better?Much.Onward, then.We started out again, and as we rounded the

corner onto Rainier Avenue, I slipped my handinto his. He looked down with a surprised smile,but offered no comment. He squeezed my fin-gers and we fell into a comfortable stride.

The walk was long, a straight shot downRainier Avenue to South Genesee. Zannalivedhad livedat the south end of the parkon the quiet, pleasant South Snoqualmie Street. Ipaused at the end of the back walk, unable tolook away from the blaring yellow crime scene

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tape that barred our way. Russ ducked under it.We cant go in there. Its still a crime scene.He arched a brow. Sure we can.Someones going to see us and call the police.

How will you explain that?No one will see us. Still I hesitated, skepti-

cal, and he retraced his steps. His hands came torest on my shoulders, and his eyes shifted from

cool blue to almost copper. Suzanne, havent youwondered why no one stopped while we weresitting for so long on the side of Dearborn Street?Or why no one bothered you on the beach when Iwent to get you food? No one can see us.

Really? I wasnt so sure I liked that idea.What if something happened to him? Would theshielding break, and Id become visible again? Orwould I be condemned to wander through aworld where no one could see me?

The marriage bond and the shielding will

break if anything happens to me, Russ said; hisfingers tightened a fraction. Dont worry. Now,do you want to stay out here while I look aroundinside?

Do you thinkis it very bad?His eyes darkened. Yes, I think its very bad.Ill stay out here, then. I dont think I can I

trailed off.His hands fell away and without another word

he pivoted and strode away from me. The door-knob was no match for otherworldly abilities. He

gained easy access, and he didnt look back as hestepped across the threshold. The house seemedto swallow him.

I sat in the grass beside the patio, ignoring thecomfortable deck chairs under the shade of theawning. Zanna had not welcomed me here whenshe had been alive; I wasnt going to make myselfat home just because she wasnt here to object. Thelawn needed to be mowed; my fingers cropped allthat was within reach in an effort to distract mymind from what was in the house.

The sun warmed my shoulders. I stared at myarms so I wouldnt have to look at the streak ofcrimson on the door trim. My skin had turned alovely shade of brown. I hadnt been this tan inyears, since Id had the timeand the inclina-tionto sunbathe. It generally took several weeksof dedicated sun worshipping to achieve thisshade.

I frowned, thinking back over the time sinceId met Russ. Had it only been three days? It

seemed like much longer. With my weight lossand tanned skin, it was almost easy to believe ithad been longer. And then there were stretches oftime that I couldnt remember passing, one mo-ment being aware of the sun burning down fromone angle, and the next it shone from a direction itshould have passed hours before.

I wondered if my jumbled memory had some-

thing to do with Russ feeding me his strength; Islept so deeply that upon waking I had severalmoments of complete amnesia.Angels, I grumbledsilently. Damn angels.

I glanced up, checking the back door to see ifhe was coming out yet. The door, open just acrack, beckoned to me, enticing me. Come see whathe did to her, the girl you learned to drive with; the girlyou first drank whiskey withand puked with; the girlwho followed you from California to Seattle to go to acollege she hated just to be your support system; the

girl whose man you stole and whose heart you broke.Come see the end of the heartbreak, splattered across thewhite walls Zanna so favored. Come see what waitsahead for you when Raum finally gets around to you.

I blinked the thought away, surprised to findmyself on the back porch, pushing the door open.

He had caught her in the kitchen. The Mexicanfloor tiles were stained with a large, sticky puddleof blood that had been left to dry. The walls werenot white, but a warm butter yellow with crimsonsplatters that might have been artful had they

been paint rather than blood. They were darkerthan Id expected, more russet than red. The scenthung thick and bitter in the air, closed up as thehouse had been. Zanna had no family, and sepa-rated from Ian and me, there was no one to call fora crime scene clean-up. Her house, paid for longago through an insurance settlement, would re-main empty until unpaid property taxes forcedthe county to sell the parcel at auction.

I dragged my eyes away from the bloody floor.A newspaper lay open on the table, sprinkledwith scarlet drops. I could just make out part of aheadline: Police call off search for missing

Suzanne, Russ said with concern. I hadntrealized I was headed toward the floor until hecaught me. He pressed my face to his chest andcarried me outside, where I lay with my cheekagainst the cool blades of grass for a long time.

An ant crawled up a long, broad blade, wa-vered at the tip, and lumbered back down. Iwatched it zigzag across the dead thatch under

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the green lawn until it disappeared. Still I stareduntil I realized something else was in the thatch. Atarnished circle of cheap metal with a heart die-cut into it, mashed into the dirt. Ian had worn onelike it when we were living together; wed boughta matching pair at some little stand at the fair afterindulging in too many funnel cakes. The heart onhis had been cut funny, a little lopsided.

I pushed my fingers through the thatch andpried the ring from the ground, brushing off thesoil. A lopsided heart.

My heart hammered against my ribs so hard Ithought it might burst from my chest. A weightsettled on my chest, making it nearly impossibleto breathe. I sat up slowly, a scream of anguishbuilding in my throat.

Suzanne? Russ queried sharply.I raised my face to the sun and screamed.

IIIIIIIAAAAAANNN! Again and again. And

again.Russ pressed his hand to my forehead, and I

knew no more.

2010 Siobhan MacIntyre

Siobhan MacIntyre writes paranor-mal and chick lit, both infused withcopious amounts of sarcasm. She is afull-time employee of the state

(Washington), full-time mother tothree kids, six cats and a dog, and afull-time wife. This means that Sio-bhan is a part-time writer. Somehow,she has managed to complete a novel-length manuscript titledThe

Wyckham House. Currently she is working on the secondbook, Gothic. This is the second in a planned series of threeor four books about "the devil's mansion." Indeed, becauseSiobhan is of Celtic descent and loves those tangly littleknots, she has even tied her short storyThe Stone Gardeninto the convoluted mess the devil's mansion creates, which

can be read in our first issue.

ItalianMeatloafIngredients:

1or2piecesofItalianbreaddried(Youcansubstitutebread

crumbsorcubedplainbreadstuffing)

2lbsofgroundbeef(youcansubstitutegroundturkey)

2eggs(youcansubstituteeggbeaters)

Parmesancheese(atleast1/2cuportotaste)

CannedBread

crumbs

(Italian

seasoned

or

plain)

Onionpowder(notfresh)

Garlicpowder(notfresh)

Basil(freshordried)

Parsley(freshordried)

*Iffreshthenchopandcutintosmallbits.Ifdriedthenthen

crushtheherbsinyourhandbeforedroppingintomix.This

bringsoutmoreoftheirflavor.

Additionalingredients:

229ozcansofHuntsunseasonedtomatosauce

12bagsofmacaroni.Regularmacaroni...Iusecorkscrewsor

shellsorelbows.Iwouldnotrecommendspaghetti.

Servesabout68

Preheatoven375

Beginyourmix:

Crumble/crushdriedbreadinalargebowl.Oncecrushedto

mostlycrumbsandpowderaddwatertosoftenthebread.

Youshouldaddenoughwatersothatthebreadisnowmushy

andislikeapaste.Youdon'twantittoomushysoaddmore

breadifyouaccidentallyusetoomuchwater.

Nowbegintoaddyourseasonings.ONEATATIME.Thisis

veryimportant.Idon'tknowwhyIjustknowthatmyNoni

wasvery

particular

about

this.

Pick

any

of

the

seasonings

Continuedonpage36

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23/46

"Bloody little sod," Sean said and returned tohis car. He pulled out of the car park and mergedinto traffic. Not very long after, a Lamborghinibegan trailing him. Black. Sean decided it was a

coincidence until he turned into his drive and theItalian sports car pulled in right after him.A man in a grey suede jacket got out, gun

aimed at Sean."What is this about?" Sean asked, and the man

gave him a frightening smile."I have to kill you now," he said and before he

pulled the trigger, he clutched at his heart. His facewent from stoic and quite deadly to blue. Seanstood there in shock as the gunman died in his

drive. The Lamborghini purred indifferently.The leprechaun materialized with an amusedsnicker. "I take it that this'll do ye, yes?"

"He was going to shoot me," Sean said, toeingthe body in his drive.

"He was a lil' how can I put this here, con-fused, yes. He was confused."

"But now I've a dead man in my drive.""That you do. You asked for a fancy sports car.

You didn't indicate how to get it to you. I used theeasiest method."

"There's a bloody dead man in my drive." Seansaid with a hint of annoyance.

"Aye and you still have two wishes that I knowof. Perhaps we can work out an arrangement."

"I'm not using my second wish on corpse dis-posal. This isyourdoing!"

"If you like," the leprechaun said with a smile."I'll be along now if you're not in need of wish-

Sean found a leprechaun once in the park. Hewas pale and thin with a large toddler's head andwore a green velvet coat and tails, along with a

very tall top hat. The little bugger perched atop hislittle pot of gold and concentrated on his pipe. Itdidn't much smell like cherry tobacco.

"So y'found me then, and here I offer you notone, not two but three wishes. You don't want mepot o' gold, take a look at your inflation!"

Sean of course opted for the wishing in orderto finally achieve his dream goals, as any manwould. Who'd take such a tiny kettle of gold? Hecould wish for an entire castlefilled with gold.

"Be quick about it," the leprechaun promptedwith a fierce gleam in his green eyes. He was anevil looking creature, and not at all cute or chubbyas leprechauns are often portrayed.

"I wish for an expensive sports car," Seanblurted. The leprechaun grinned.

"Any particular sort then, or should I surpriseyou?"

"Any'll do. Black," Sean said, scratching hischin. "Make it black."

"Of course, a very good choice you've made."

Sean stood there for a moment and lookedaround. "Well?"

"Well what?" the leprechaun said."Where's my car?""D'ye feel they should should just drop out of

the sky then?" the leprechaun snorted. "Well thenyou should've wished for one to do just that. Thiswill take time. Not much longer than a day." Be-fore Sean could retort, the leprechaun vanished.

Page
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24/46

"You called?" the leprechaun chirruped in hisear. Sean turned and the little bastard was floatingthere on his tiny pot of gold.

"Theseare beautiful women? These are worsethan what you took from my drive!"

"I did what I could to force a free-willed crea-ture to become obsessed with the likes of you," the

leprechaun said. "Ones with no free-will becamethe obvious only option. I might be magical, but Ican't work miracles."

He puffed on his little pipe and Sean swung athim, but the leprechaun merely materialized acrossthe room, near the reanimated dead. "You're out ofwishes, and our deal is done. I suppose I couldoffer you a bit of a trade though. To take you outof the situation?"

"Trade for what?"

"I'll make you gold. For luck.""That's not a trade!" The women were almostupon him. Their rotting skin was crawling withmaggots and all manner of slithery things. "Yes,"Sean said. "Yes! Make it stop, whatever you ask!"

"Glad you said that," said the leprechaun andSean shrank and hardened, the corpses falling togelatinous piles where he once stood. The lepre-chaun floated to the floor and picked through themess until he retrieved a gold coin.

"Mygood luck," he said, and put it in his potwith the others, the light evoking a low series ofscreams from the contents. The leprechaun van-ished for the last time.

2010 Kilian Conor

making."The gunman'd shat his pants. A pool of yellow

spread at his groin. Sean grimaced."Alright. Take him away.""What's that? I need the magic words y'know.""I wish for the dead man on my drive to be

taken far away from here. Canada is a good start."

"Splendid choice Sean. I do like the way yethink." The leprechaun grinned, and the corpsevanished.

Sean breathed a sigh of relief and turned hisattention to the Lamborghini. It smelled likemoney. Curious, Sean opened the bonnet androlled his eyes at the ammunition and gun stash. Atleast they didn't stink.

"And your third wish?" the leprechaun askedand giggled to himself. He lit his pipe from a tiny

match secreted away in his green velvet jacketpocket. When Sean dared look at him, he couldsee the green horns protruding from his furrowedlittle green brow.

"I need company. I wish to be wanted by beau-tiful women."

The leprechaun laughed outright. "Done.""A wait period again I suppose?""You could say just that. And now we are done

Sean."He vanished again, and Sean snorted. Good

riddance to the little shit. At least the Lamborghiniwas legitimately his. He took it for a ride, marvel-ing at the silken transmission and erection-worthyhorsepower in the thing. Once his day was over,he parked it by his little house and went inside tofind his bed.

The smell was revolting. He retched and pulledhis shirt up over his nose as he climbed the stairs,desperate to know what would cause such a stench.

In his bed, were four what-used-to-be people.

Women. They were in various stages of decay,jaws unhinged, eyes sunken in and liquid goo.Mottled skin. Fingernails stripped and scatteredover his pillow.

"Cor, what the hell is this? Leprechaun! Lepre-chaun! I demand you get your arse here now!" Heshouted. The sound attracted the dead women andthey climbed over one another to slide off the bedand come towards him.

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Fuckno,

Ididnt

kill

that

stupid

bitch,

Iyelled

at

my

identicaltwinbrotherTrent,myloudresponsenot

reallyhelpingmydefense,butwhatever.Iwasfucking

pissedbecausehewouldveseenmyinnocenceifhe

hadntbrokenthedamnlinkagain.Hejustdidntwant

mewatchinghimscrewhisgirl,whichIreallywouldnt

mindwatching.

Ohreally?Thenwhathappenedtoher?Shesbeen

missingforthreedays.Hefoldedhisarmsoverhis

chestandglaredatme,hisblueeyemeetingmine,

greendoingjustthesame.LastIsaw,shewaswith

you.

Lastyousaw,bro,butIleftherafterthat,Isaid,

crossingmyarms,whichmadeuslooklikeeithercould

bestandinginfrontofamirror.Trylookinwiththe

innereye,fucker.Itappedmyforeheadandadjusted

myhandbackintothecrookofmyelbow.Ihadto

meetsomeoneelse,ifyoumustknow.

Hisbrowhithisforehead.Who?

Inarrowedmyeyes.Thatdbenoneofyourdamn

businessifyoucantseeitanymore.

Trentreachedupandrubbedhisface.Damnit,

Shawn,Imtryinghere.Ireallyam,butIneedalittle

cooperation.

Forwhat,tosaveme?Isnapped.Letsfaceit,

man,yourethegoodlittleboyandImnot.Itsalways

beenlikethat,evenwhenwewerekids,beforeallthe

vampyrebullshit.

BeforeCiannturnedus,hemumbled,butIheard

himquiteclear.

Yeah,whatever,Ireplied.Imfuckinggladhedid,

youknow.

Trentnoddedslowlybecauseheknewdamnwell

shitwasbadrightbeforethathappened.Thegovern

menthad

trained

me

to

kill,

which

Ibecame

stellar

at,

andTrentcouldhackintoprettymuchanydatabasein

theworld.ItswhyheandSeth,videogamedesigner

extraordinaire,gotalongsowell.Butafterthat,right

aroundourtwentysecondbirthday,shitwentdownhill

fast,andwewentthroughtwoyearsofdrug andalco

holinducedhellbeforeCiannfoundus.Iconsidered

themastervampyreablessing;Trentfeltotherwise,but

hedidntcomplainabouthisimmortality.

WhydoyouthinkIdowhatIdo,Trent?

Becauseyou

have

no

fucking

conscience,

he

replied.AndIdo.

Thatsright,youdothatforme,bro,soIdont

havetodealwithit,Isaidandslappedahandonhis

shoulder.Idothekillin,youdofeelinbad.

Trentsighedheavily.Justbemorecarefulabout

whoyoukill.

Ipulledhimcloseandlookedhimdeadinthe

eye.Ididntkillher,Ipromiseyouthat.

Westaredatoneanotherforafewseconds,and

thenhenoddedagain.Ibelieveyou.Youvenever

lied

to

me.

Andthatsthetruthtoo.Iveneveronceliedto

mytwin.Ihavenoreasonto.DontthinkIcouldget

awaywithitanyway.Trentshalfofme,forfucks

sake.HemaynotunderstandwhyIthinkthewayI

do,buthegotalltheothershit.Otherpeople,Idid

ntgiveashitaboutonewayoranother.Trentwas

theonlyliabilityinmylife,andthatboycouldtake

careofhimselfwhenheneededto.

Onlyproblemwashelookedjustlikeme,so

whenIdidajobIhadtobeinvisible.Thevampshit

helpedwiththatimmensely.

Maybeyou

should

take

those

piercings

out

and

dyeyourhair,Isuggested.

Why,yougetseenorsomething?heasked

andgrabbedmywrist,twistingmyarmback.

No,Imjustsayinitmightbebetter,Ireplied,

turnedmyarmandcaughthiswristupinmyhand.

Knockthatshitoff.YouknowIlltakeyoudown.

Trentlaughed.Thefucker.Alright,soifyoudid

ntkillher,whointhehelldid?

Dontknow,bigbrother,butImgonnafind

out.

Herolled

his

eyes

because

he

was

only

two

min

utesolder.Letmeknowifyouneedanyhelp.Im

sureSethcouldfindsomeshitforyouorsome

thing.

Willdo.

Idlovetohavestayedandchattedwithhimbe

causeIrarelysawhimanymore,butIhadtofindout

whopossiblykilledthatgirlandmadeitlooklikeI

diditifTrentwasquestioningme.Shedgonemiss

ingthatnightandIneededtofindher.Andboy,if

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26/46

shewasdead,thatfuckerwasgoingtopaywhenI

foundhim.

~~

LeavingTrentshouseandheadingoutintothe

night,Iwasntsurewheretogo,butIfiguredstart

ingatthelastplaceIsawthegirlwouldbeagood

spot.IphasedintothealleynexttoInferno,aclubin

oneofthehistoricdistrictsinPortland.Thescentof

seaand

pine

hit

my

nose

in

arush,

and

damn

did

thatsmellgoodafterleavingtheseafoodandsmog

chokedairoftheBayarea.Ifuckinghatedseafood.

Hatedsmogevenmore.

IcroucheddownwhereIdlasttalkedtoherand

scoopedupsomegravel,bringingittomynoseto

seeifherscentstilllingered.Itdid.Ihadher.NowI

justneededtofigureoutwhereshewent,andpossi

blywhowith.

Iinhaleddeeplytosearchtheotherscentswhen

auniqueonehitmynose.Whatsthat?Imumbled

and

stood

up,

still

holding

a

few

rocks

in

my

hand.

Now,Ivesmelledjustabouteveryscentknownto

man,whichwasntimpossiblebecauseofmyheight

enedsenseofsmell,butthisonehadmeperplexed.

Therewasahumantypescentthere,butunderlying

wascanine.Someonewithadog,perhaps?Orfuck,

itcouldbeawerewolf.Idroppedtherocksand

scannedthealley.Iknewwhatwerewolvessmelled

like,andthisscentwassimilar,yetsomehowdiffer

ent.

Thereweretwodifferenttypesofwerewolvesin

theworld.Ofonetype,onlytwoexistedandlivedin

Italy.Theyre

both

somewhere

around

two

thousand

yearsold.Thegirlmaybeabityounger,butdamn,

shewashotinaScarlettJohanssonsortofway.The

othertypewasyourtypicalhorrormoviewolfman.

ImtalkinUnderworldhere,notLonChaney.The

firsttypecanactuallyturnintoawolf.Itlookslikea

wolf,actslikeawolf,huntslikeawolf.Thesecond

typelooksandactslikewell,awolfmanhalfhu

man,halfwolf.

Isniffedtheairagain.Apparently,anewtype

hadrisen.Fuckinggreat.

Quietfootsteps,

those

of

the

sneaking

variety,

hitmyeardrums.Iturnedtowardthemandflashed

fang,tryinghardnottolaugh.

Dude,couldyoubeanylouder?Icanhearyoua

mileaway,Isaid.Nowonderyoucannevercatch

me.

Thebaldheadedmancomingtowardmeflashed

fangrightback,excepthiswerefalse.Icameclose

thatonetime.

Yeah,andyouhadtohaveahostageoryou

knowwedhavebeengoneinasnap,Irepliedwith

asnapofmyfingers.Ofcourse,Trentwouldve

killedyouifyoudhurther.Itookafewstepsto

wardhim.Showingthisslayeranyremotesenseof

fearwasabadidea.NotthatIwasafraidofhimor

anything,buttheguyhadanastyrep.SupFang?

Whyreyouhere?

Whydoyouthink?hesaid,scopingthealley

whilereaching

into

his

long

black

leather

trench.

Justincasehewaspullingaweapon,Ireadied

myselftophasethefuckoutofthere.Instead,he

pulledoutapackofsmokes,hittheenduntilone

poppedup,andraisedthepacktohismouth,taking

onebetweenhisteeth.Thenhestuffedthepack

backintohisinnerpocketandpulledouthistrusty

Zippo.Theflamesparkedtolifeandhemoveditto

theendofhiscigarette.

Youhuntinmetonight?Iasked,wantinga

damnsmokemyself,soIreachedintomyleather

jacket

pocket,

searching

for

my

own.

Fangshookhisheadtwice,andthengavemea

chinup.Ihearagirlsgonemissing.

Isnortedbeforelightingmysmoke.Yeah,andI

supposeyouthinkIdidit,right?Isaidaroundthe

endofthecigaretteandremoveditfrommymouth,

apuffofwhitefollowingit.Ihaveanalibi.

Hesmirked.Ohyeah?Whatshername?

Ohno,werenotgoingthere,Isaidwitha

shakeofmyhead.Youllgoaftertheperson,andI

cantallowthat.

Fangsteethgleamedinthemoonlight,along

withhis

bald

head.

Must

be

special

to

you.

Idhaverepliedwithnotjusttome,butthat

wouldvegivenawaysomethingtheentirerace

wouldhuntmedownforandtakemyheadoffover.

Hegotwithinafewfeetofmeandstopped.He

knewbetterthantogetanycloser.Webothdid.

So,yougotanyideawhatthefuckhappenedthat

night?

Yeah,Italkedtothegirlrighthereinthealley,

Isaid,pointingtotheground.ThenIlefttomeet

someoneelse.Endofstory.

Whatreyou

doing

here

now

then?

he

asked,

takingalongdragfromhiscigarette.

Tryingtofindoutwhathappenedbecausewho

everthefuckdiditismakingitlooklikeIdidit,and

Imsonotcoolwiththat.

Henodded.Yeah,didntthinkyouwouldbe.

Whatveyoufoundsofar?

Istudiedhimasecondbecauseitwasntlike

Fangtohelpavampyre.Igotascent,Isaidand

toldhimaboutit.Yougotanything?

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27/46

Hislipsdrewintoathinline.Justpeoplesaying

theysawherlastwithyou.

Dude,ifIdkilledher,itjustwouldvebeenout

ofannoyance,andIdontkillforstupidshitlike

that,Ireplied,wavingmyhandintheair.Icant

runaroundkillingpeopleatrandom.Itsnotgood

forbusiness.WhatthefuckdoyouthinkIam,ase

rialkiller?

Aburst

of

laughter

exploded

from

his

mouth.

Fuck,man.ThatsthefunniestdamnthingIveever

heardyousay.

Thatsgreat,Isaid.CanIgoaboutmybusi

nessnowsearchingforthisfucker,ordoyouwanna

help?

Ahandandfingerpoppedup.Actually,Imay

havesomethingelseforyou.Oneofherfriendssaid

shesawaguyleeringatherintheclub.Kindof

freakedherout.Infact,shethinksshesawhimbe

forethatnightfollowingthem.

Color

me

surprised.

You

g

forever nocturne vol. i, iss. v

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