Here Be Monsters - By M T Murphy Page 0,37
Ketel remained where he’d left it, and I reached for it now, lifting the glass in hand, giving it an experimental sniff. I’d never tried vodka before; had felt neither the urge nor desire to drink myself into a stupor.
If you can see them, they’ll leave you alone. No sport in it for them then.
Bracing myself, I drew the glass to my lips, tossed my head back and swallowed. Having drained it dry, I leaned forward, poured another and downed it. Then a third. Then a fourth. And after the fifth, as my mind started to grow murky, and the shadows in every corner of the room seemed to grow elongated and sinister somehow before my eyes—becoming nearly human in shape, creeping closer to me, slowly but surely—I took a seat on the bar stool.
And waited to see.
Spider Bag
M.T. Murphy
©2011
All rights reserved.
Edited by Erin Stropes
“Are you ready to become food for the immortals, Lindsey?” he asked.
She stared at the vampire’s glistening fangs and nodded. Her friend hesitated for a moment, also regarding the protruding teeth that had suddenly appeared. Then she nodded as well.
The other vampire groaned. “Doug, did you just rip off that line from a movie?”
“I don’t know. Shut up. We’re doing a thing.” Doug knelt in front of where Lindsey sat on the couch and caressed her cheek. “Don’t mind my friend. He’s a young one.”
The other vampire fiddled with the buttons of his silk shirt and avoided looking at the woman who awaited him.
“Chad,” snapped Doug, “Susan is waiting.”
“My name is Britney,” said the woman sitting on the couch. If being called the wrong name bothered her, she hid it remarkably well with a beaming smile.
“Whatever,” Doug replied. “These women are placing their immortal souls in our hands. They have waited long enough. Let’s give them the dark gift.”
With a marked lack of enthusiasm, Chad knelt in front of Britney and placed his hand on her cheek. He was a mirror image of the other vampire, with one hand on the victim and the other hand by his side.
Both women were wearing black dresses and heavy white makeup. If they were to be transformed into vampires, they already looked the part.
“Did you wear what we instructed?” Doug asked.
Lindsey nodded breathlessly. “Yes. I’m wearing the black lacy kind.”
“And I’m wearing the same thing, only white,” Britney said.
“Good.” Doug brushed a few stray blonde hairs out of Lindsey’s face. “Close your eyes and we can begin.”
Both women did as he instructed.
The two vampires looked at each other and took identical straight razor blades out of their back pockets. They slowly positioned the blades over the women’s throats.
Doug nodded. It was time.
A thunderous knocking shattered the silence.
Lindsey and Britney jumped and looked toward the front door. Their hosts jumped as well, narrowly avoiding slicing them open prematurely.
“Holy heart attack,” cried Chad as he quickly hid the razor from view by holding it against his leg.
“I thought your brother and his wife were gone all weekend,” Doug said, palming his own razor.
“They are,” Chad replied.
The knocking sounded again, this time louder. The walls shook, and a large, ornate painting of a sad clown fell to the floor, cracking the glass of the frame.
“My brother’s going to kill me,” Chad groaned.
“Just see who’s at the door and get rid of them,” Doug said.
Chad opened the door as far as the security chain would allow and peered outside.
A man with dark, shaggy hair stood outside, sniffing the door frame and mumbling to himself. With his faded Rolling Stones shirt, leather jacket, and jeans he would have easily blended into a crowd, save for the ridiculous sideburns that dangled past the edge of his jaw line.
“Can I help you?” Chad asked as insincerely as he could manage.
“This is the place,” the man said with a hint of an Irish brogue. “It has to be. But the scent is all wrong. I don’t smell death. I only smell…” His eyes drifted away from the door frame and settled on Chad’s open mouth. “Ah, there we go. What big fangs you have.”
He shoved the door open, ripping the chain out of the wall and sending Chad tumbling to the floor.
Doug brandished his razor, but did not make a move towards the intruder. “Who the hell are you?”
“Name’s Mickey,” the man said. “But that’s not important.” He ignored the vampires and glared at the women on the couch. His already red irises took on an eerie glow. He smiled, revealing his own abnormally large canine teeth.
The