Shattered Hope * Book 2, free, on going *

6. Late Night

Ricky

Year: 1984, 29th May, Tuesday, 11.27 pm, Spring.

Something I enjoy immensely is leaving a trail of destruction. This evening's body count was currently at a measly two. The first being that boy. The death had been too quick. Additionally it had lacked all those beautiful nuances that came from one of these humans knowing they were about to die. The second had been a little better. At least I’d been able to see the fear in his eyes. Smell the terror coating his skin. Taste it in his blood.

I’d waited until I’d driven a reasonable distance from the Brice farm to roll the body out onto the side of the road. Normally I wouldn’t fuss but it seemed prudent to keep the attention away from the property for now. The hunt was on and when you hunt it’s important to be stealthy right up to the last second.

Even when the prey was dumb, like Sally-Anne.

Bored of driving, the taste of blood on my tongue waning, it was time for a break. The car stank anyway. A putrid scent infused into the interior by the ridiculous ‘pine’ air freshener hanging from the rearview. Why humans insisted on these disgusting things I had no idea.

A house with a light on caught my attention. The building was new. Not important. It appeared that this quaint little suburb as a whole was only a few years old. Every hovel, almost identical. Yet this particular one had piqued my interest.

At the end of the block I turned the car around. Just a steady U-turn. Squealing tyres and revving engines brought humans rushing to peep out of their windows. Theater was one thing. Announcing my presence was another. Rolling to a stop at the curb of this particularly interesting home I cast my eye over it once more.

There was a tree out front, not much more than a sapling, bursting with a plethora of white blossoms. Made me think of Sally-Anne. She had wanted all that. White picket fences, a pristine home where she would raise a hoard of fat cheeked offspring and spend all day baking, cleaning, tittering with the neighbours about how wonderful her life - her husband is. She told me as much. Then she’d lower those big green eyes, black curls swinging across her face to cover the blush that I could smell.

Little w***e might have been gushing about perfect days but she was thinking about carnal nights; her soft glossy hair wrapped around her husband's fist as he took his fill. In her imagination I was that husband. Human females, boring and interesting at the same time. It bemused me that they all seemed to spend their youth idolising this idea of being a housewife. This idea of self imposed subjugation. They even held ceremonies to become the play things of their males.

Anger and excitement had been stirred in me. Made me thirsty.

For a moment I considered pulling onto the drive but humans, while inherently stupid, were easily spooked. Parking up like the husband home from work would have suited my intended roll play but it was unlikely to get me over the threshold. And there was some business to be taken care of first.

It didn’t irk me too much. Leaving the car on the street might get some tongues wagging at first but it would be a little while before it roused any true suspicion. Afterall it wasn’t reported stolen. A smile twisted my lips. The owner, a bloodless corpse, wouldn’t be tattling to the authorities.

What had been his was now mine. Why would I buy into the pathetic barter system of this realm when I could simply take what I wanted, when I wanted, to serve whatever purpose I saw fit?

Powerful.

That's what I was. A God unfettered by these insipid creatures. My will was divine.

Anticipation made me ravenous but the feast was only as good as the foreplay. From the passenger seat I retrieved the stetson that had come with my prior meal. Practical and fun. The extra shadow from the brim would hide my eyes. Stepping out of the car I pretended to inspect the wheel. Slowly I dug a finger into the rubber, enjoying the moment where it yielded to my strength. With the tyre satisfactorily flat it was time to find out what was behind door number one.

Lazy strides up the empty driveway were in total contradiction to the buzzing inside me. The television was on. I could hear it; the humming electrics and the dramatic music. My timing was so perfect. As if the universe had granted me my own introduction. Taking the simple brass knocker in hand I announced my presence. A throaty chuckle left me upon hearing the occupant become startled by my knock.

Hum, a woman by the timber of the small sound of surprise and the weight of the step. Perfect, I had a preference for the females. They were sweeter; more indulgent. Breasts. Breasts were delightful. Unlike humans, our offspring were not fed at a teat and so there were no breasts amongst my kind. Nor did we rely on one gender to feed our babes. Such an inefficient, precarious way to ensure an infant was fed. Though that aspect didn’t really interest me, I had noted it was such an uncertain endeavour they had taken to manufacturing a more reliable resource.

“Howdy there, li’le Miss.” My greeting an appreciative purr. As anticipated, it was a human woman who had opened the door. An inch gap gave me a narrow view of her body.

“What you want Mister?” In slippers and a frilly dressing gown she was wary. Her eyes were flecked with caution. Unfortunately they weren’t green, like a certain someones. The heartbeat was steady but not overly pronounced. I was eager to catch her scent but that would have to wait for the ward to drop. All she had to do was invite me in.

“So sorry t’ be disturbin’ at such an unsocial hour, Miss, only I’ve found myself with a flat and your house be the only one with a light still on.” My acting was charming the poor thing. A sweet southern accent along with a friendly tip of the hat. “I was hoping ya’ll might have a phone I could use? Call a tow, or a friend t’ help a fella out?”

“It’s awful late, Mister.” Was her reply, hesitantly closing the door a fraction.

“True, true. Tryin’ not t’ be making a nuisance of myself by disturbin’ any sleepin’ folks.” With a handsome smile, I took a little step back, gesturing toward the unlit houses on the street. “Wouldn’t be very Christian of me to be stirring good people from their slumber affore seein’ here.”

“Car trouble?” She peered around me, eyeing the car. It was close enough to a streetlight that she should be able to see it, although perhaps the flat tyre was too subtle of an issue to be seen by a human at this distance. Next time I’d put the hood up. It would be a better display for these dumb animals. “Ain’t there a spare?”

“Aye, but Lord bless me, that be flat an all.”

“Ain’t that just the way.” She tutted, shaking her head. The nightcap she wore covered her hair. “Ain’t no tow place I know of open this time of night, ‘fraid you gonna have to just wait it out ‘til first thing.”

“Weeell ain’t that just a kick in the teeth. What’s that saying? Things run in threes?”

“True, but the Lord will provide.”

“Indeed, a light in the darkness - a good christian woman, such as yourself, t’ help a fellow christian in need.”

“I wish I could do more, I really do but as I said, ain’t nowhere open ‘til mornin’.”

“I got a wife, one town over waitin’ on me. Be eternally grateful if I could give her a bell. She’ll be worried sick.” The look on her face said no. Imploring from the standpoint of religious value had not yielded the desired result. She had not been swayed by my imaginary wife either. Time for something else. “My apologies Miss, don’t be meaning t’ put ya’ll at such an imposition. Ya’ll have a good night now, I’ll try the neighbour across the street.” With a tip of my hat I moved away.

Her heartbeat spiked. Yes, the neighbours. What a thing to fear… judgement from another equally weak-willed, pathetic human.

“Mister?”

“Yes, Miss?” I had won. I could feel it. And the prize was better than I had thought. The woman had opened the door wider in those few seconds that my back was turned. This female was pregnant. Heavily. That second heartbeat had been hidden, too subtle when I hadn't been listening for it.

There was no doubt in my mind that she had been leaning over the threshold, fretting as she looked down the street to see that all the other windows were dark. Afterall why else would she have one foot on the front step? If tricking the ward were as simple as getting a human to extend any part of their body out of the doorway I would have flash stepped to grab her but as it was the protective ward had the ability to stretch a little. Even one finger curled around the inside of the door frame would keep them protected.

Wards on all human abodes. The Brices had done that when they sealed the keystone. Although I quite enjoyed it - added an interesting dimension to the hunt.

“You just need to call your wife?”

“Yes, indeed I do.”

“Alrigh’ then.” She held the door open, stepping to one side so I could pass. Only, I couldn’t just yet.

“Mighty kind of ya’ll…?”

“Bernice.” She supplied, a tight smile telling me that she didn’t trust this decision.

“Ricky.”

“Come on in Ricky, phones in the kitchen.”

Those pretty words stirred me. Bernice saw her mistake. Saw the flash of my eyes, the lick of my lips. She tried to close the door.

Too late.

The ward was broken.

With her heartbeat blaring in my ears and the intense scent of her hot skin making my mouth water I stepped into her home.