1Bellbird, a town partway between Sydney and Wollongong, separated from the cliffs and white sand beaches of the Australian coast by a ridge, a valley, and a thick belt of rainforest.
Jacarandas dropped petals and leaves with each swish of their long branches. Blue, green and rotting brown litter carpeted cracked footpaths and choked gutters. A week had strolled by since the last broom-wielding resident had attempted the task of clearing the seasonal debris. In 1988, Bellbird had reached the finals of the Bicentennial Tidy Town Challenge. A gleaming brass plaque hung behind the counter of the local post office-newsagent-general store commemorating the fact. Things had gone downhill from there.
Flo Winthorpe was the first to notice something was not quite right, sitting in the front parlour, windows open to catch any trace of breeze that might happen past. She dozed in her rocker with her walking stick resting on her lap and her floral-print dress unbuttoned to catch the humid air circulated by the fan beside her. Flo had drifted off to the creak of the fan as it rotated back and forth, not quite easing the heat but enough that she could pretend she was somewhere far cooler than another dripping summer in Bellbird. Dreams of younger days filled her head: splashing around at the beach, a winter honeymoon in Katoomba, a family trek down to the snow … aged lips smiled and she opened her eyes.
The curtains billowed around her, their edges gliding over her face, coming dangerously close to the old fan. She started up, panicked and not quite awake, to turn the switch on the fan.
Her hand didn’t make it anywhere near the little side table or the fan; trapped like a frail bird in the grip of a hungry cat’s mouth, it flexed, fingers clawing, then stilled to hang over the rocker’s armrest. The stench of urine and blood and flesh whirled around her body, vanishing in a greedy groan of hunger and satisfaction. The chair rocked forward and the walking stick slid to the floor, fell back and Flo’s head rolled to the side, her face pale and peaceful.
A shift in the light; shadows moving across the room, horrendous and distorted, and then settling into a more recognisable form as they reached the windows. The curtains dropped as the window closed. The back door opened with a creak and the shadows left. Only the fan kept moving, blowing warm air and a trail of dust around the room, back and forth, back and forth …
‘Sweets for my sweet?’ The man’s cheeks were as rosy as the woman’s. ‘I’ve saved the last for you.’
‘My darling, you are too good to me,’ the woman purred. ‘And such a pretty little thing.’ She stroked the hair of the teenager between them, who was trembling in the grip that held her prisoner.
A whimper of fear gurgled in the girl’s throat. ‘Please let me go. I won’t tell, I promise.’
‘Hear that, Moriah? She won’t tell.’
‘Oh, honey-child.’ Moriah’s hand cupped the girl’s face, long fingers caressing the tear-stained cheeks. ‘You’d do that for us?’
The girl nodded. ‘P … promise.’
Moriah smiled and the girl started to relax. Hope lit her eyes, the last of the day’s sunshine reflecting gold in their sparkling depths.
The woman leaned down close, ruby lips brushing the girl’s ear as she spoke. ‘I believe you,’ she said. ‘But we don’t care if you tell or not. Your promise holds no value.’
Wet sniffling sobs blubbered from the girl’s mouth. ‘Pleeeease.’
‘What does hold value, my love,’ Moriah continued, ‘is the fact that you actually mean it. So honest, so true. I like that. Close your eyes, love, and sleep. Think happy thoughts. Everything will turn out just fine.’
Moriah straightened and fixed a hard glare on her partner. ‘Hold her.’
He nodded, still grinning, and adjusted his grip under the girl’s arms. Her head bobbed down as sleep took her. Her body sagged in the man’s tight embrace. ‘Are you considering her plea?’
The look he received in reply was enough to make his smile widen in terrible pleasure. ‘I didn’t think so.’ He changed his stance and lowered himself to the ground, the dreaming girl on top of him. ‘Whenever you’re ready.’
Red hair glowed in the fading light, Moriah’s face cast into shadows by its perfect frame. Jedidiah’s body responded to her beauty and the hunger that leaked from every pore of her being. He was hungry too, famished, but Moriah would feed and then share, and Jedidiah needed the Sharing more than the limp body in his arms. Every nerve tingled with longing as he watched Moriah descend to lay, full-bodied, the girl sandwiched between them. Her mouth, so passionate and fiery, opened wide until it gaped, hovering over the girl’s face, breathing in the scent of fear and happiness, revelling in the taste of what was to come. He felt her desire as if it were his own and strained to watch both their faces.
The girl twitched and an innocent smile turned her lips up, a soft sigh of satisfaction escaping to invade Moriah’s senses, taunting the ever-present hunger that had led the couple to this isolated town. Moriah caressed the soft lips, teasing them open, then dropped to cover slack lips and nose with yawing mouth and pull in the human essence she needed to survive.
The girl bucked, her dreams suddenly not so pleasant, as her soul fought the attack. But there was no recompense, no way to stop the consummation. Moriah ran a hand over the girl’s brow and the struggle was over; pale wisps of mist curled from mouth and nose as she was released, face peaceful in the end when most were not. Perfect in death.
Jedidiah moaned, hunger filling him as the last traces of the girl’s soul left her body. He let go his grip and reached for Moriah.
‘Time to Share,’ he said, voice husky. The dried-out form of the girl between them began to crumble, powder into fine white dust, no essence remained to sustain her shape.
The couple writhed in ecstasy. Moriah opened her mouth for Jedidiah to plunder, wrapping her dusty legs around him, mounting him, back arched, hands clinging. Their bodies entwined, shimmered, lost their human shape, vanishing into shadow as they reached the pinnacle of their Sharing. They rode their union into the dark of night, lust fuelled by the souls of Bellbird, all gone now, all theirs. Then they parted, took human shape once more and stood to dust themselves off.
‘And now to finish the Alffürian Guardian?’
Taking an Alffürian by surprise was not easy, yet they had done it. He and Moriah, together, seeping into the landscape, had contained their hunger though starvation riddled their every thought, and laid the trap that enabled free reign over the human population in this one small town.
‘Yes, my love, and now the Guardian. But we must hurry. I feel the ghost of another. She will be here soon.’
‘We are strong …’
Moriah put her fingers to Jedidiah ‘s lips. ‘This one is stronger. She is not yet near, but I can feel her presence.’
Jedidiah acquiesced, as he always did and opened his mouth to suck on the tips of the fingers that sought to still his words. He couldn’t bear to lose Moriah.
The couple walked through the dead town, arms embraced. Past the blank storefronts with their useless notices and into an alley as dark as the night itself. Only a single light left on to guide their way.