The Summer is drawing to a close. The days dawn a second later and the sunsets arrive earlier each evening. There is a slight gleam of hope arising that maybe, just maybe the old owners will not return to collect the Magnolia. With each day the hope strengthens, it could be that they have forgotten or that they have replaced all efforts of claiming their past love with the simplicity of buying another.

No one knows of the untamed roots ploughing down into the dark, damp earth. No one except the Magnolia that is. For there must be no opportunity of uprootal. No danger of being torn from it’s territory and revealing the secret. Buried in the ground below the transfixing beauty, who would think such sinister things would lie in wait.

The house had come alive with cosy charm and comfort. Soft lights fused the air with a sleepish glow when the sun slept and the stars spied. A sweet aroma of cooking and Magnolia blossoms filled the atmosphere with joy. While stirring in the timeless gloom was an evil like no other. Distraught in it’s prolonged imprisonment, writhing, clawing, screaming at the cage of natural talons that ensnared it. The Magnolia being the only defence against an immortal spirit of the night. A tree protecting ignorant humans from the razor sharp fangs of a vampire.  

First there was a phone call. Polite words were exchanged about such fickle matters as the weather. Then the arrangements were made, the previous owners would collect the Magnolia in the morning. Though much fretting, moaning and whining was endured there was no other option. They rightfully wanted the tree, it was decided in a legal document. Who cared whether the tree would reject the new soil and fade into nothingness? Who could say if it would never bloom again? All that was required was a spade , not a dispute. Resistance became worthless. They hacked at the bonds between life and death, tearing the tree away from its cause for their own selfish wishes. Freeing the horror rigid below.

It couldn’t rise yet, not until dusk settled upon the suburban landscape. Then it would be time. Time to rip off the perishing bondage and escape from the power of unwilling defeat. Tonight the streets would glimmer under a veil of terror. Roads to be stained crimson after a thrilling romance. So long it had been since a victim, eons since the pounding of blood lust took over every sense. Tonight was the moment. The rebirth of a demon like a phoenix arising from the ashes of renewal. The moon shone down serenely, almost mockingly as if it knew what would befall the clueless residents of just another lifeless town.

Intermittently patches of Earth began to grow darker as some unseen force bled upwards…out of the ground. Spots of the liquid presently joined with other spots, pooling on the surface. The final droplet was absorbed against the bounds of gravity and the deep scarlet elixir began to swirl, swirl and elevate into the now fog clouded air. It twisted and rippled elegantly intertwining around the bones that had been conjured by the mist. A human form took shape, tall, lean and delicate looking with skin glowing like opals, almost heavenly in appearance with raven black hair and soulful grey eyes. These eyes were rimmed with faint rings caused by years of sorrow and torment, flickering upwards to at long last admire the starlit sky.  

***

His attire was ragged, him being indeed male. A torn and dirty shirt hung loosely around a half starved torso while again looser black trousers adorned his lower body. The shirt was untucked and even stained a little with blood, he wore nothing upon his feet but wasn’t bothered by rough ground. Sired at the age of twenty one he retained a pristine youthful essence and unaging physique. He was the ultimate being, ultimate predator and the ultimate prey. To live he must kill others but that itself was enough to warrant him being killed himself. The very fact that he was ‘alive’ ment that others had the right to destroy him.

He scoped the area to better acquaint himself with present times. Street lamps bathed the dilapidated pathways in a sickly orange flush, the air was clear of fog now and the only sounds to be heard were those of muffled television sets and the conversation of materially dimmed minds. So much had changed…so much remained unresolved. His finely tuned senses expeditiously alerted him to his situation. There was a man of about fifty years approaching with a dog, terrier it seemed by the smell. A woman and her daughter were about to leave a house three doors down from where he stood, a cat had just ran through some fencing in order to peruse a rat and a gang of youths were gathering at the far end of the road. There was nothing to fear from any of these mere mortals but his presence was best left undiscovered.

Although it was bitterly cold, he couldn’t feel it. All that was felt was hunger, desperation and angst. He crossed his arms over his chest and indifferently shook the hair from his eyes. Reaching a decision he walked from the house out into the unknown. Swiftly yet composedly he proceeded towards what sounded like the town centre, houses swished past and an occasional car dived by. Though only a few hours had departed since freedom had been bestowed upon him, already he was tired of surviving. So empty this existence was. The only purpose of his life being to stay alive. Forsaken, exiled, incessantly hated.

There was once an age filled with thrill during a hunt. Raw passion throbbing into every blood vessel. Others, like himself could feast on the pleasures of humanity. They were the children of the dark, blessed with supernatural power and endless energy. It had been so many years since those times, times when he had not thrived alone.

He became engrossed in the memory…long ebony coloured hair formed careless ringlets that framed a pale face with glistening emerald eyes. Merciless fangs lay hidden beneath full lips, her form not to tall or perfect but strong and agile. Clothed in a knee length dress, corset like at the top and somewhat tattered around the edges. Faded red underneath black crisscrossing lace. A rip in one of the arms which were made from lace also, the rip caused by never ending escapades. Outspoken, sinister, perceptive and observant. She was beautiful. Cursed to be beautiful until either she ended it herself or was sacrificed for her sins.

Soul mates are rarely found, rarer still when you are destined to never die. Yet he found his, dancing alone around a moon shadowed graveyard. The leafless trees themselves seeming to follow the stimulating movements. Bare footed she performed her personal ballet, her mind so consumed with creativity that she was unaware of her watcher. A crow cawed thoughtlessly and broke this spell of concentration. Noiselessly she sank to the grass blanketed floor, her eyes staring off into the distant dawn.

Their first chance encounter, their first rush of emotion, their first vow never to be parted all occurred within the same space of twilight. Now he stalked in twilight alone. That vow shattered by cruel fate and his punishment unceasing.

Houses steadily morphed into destitute little shops, inaudible music blared from a bar nearby. Rubbish accumulated in certain drab corners and crude graffiti graced the walls. Vermin scurried amongst various buildings as an unshaved, bloodshot eyed man emptied his stomach contents down an alley way. Repulsed by the filth of the world the predator moved onwards. After maybe an hour of wandering the grime soaked city landscape he came to a equally depressing structure. Paint had peeled from the shop sign, leaving it barely readable and unappealing. The window display showing black, red, purple and dark blue coloured apparel. Chains hanging from black denim, studs affixed to leather belts, heavily buckled boots and long dark trench coats. Gothic styled skirts enhanced with rips, lace, netting. T-shirts printed with motifs concerning humour and irony.

Pressing his fingers to the chilled glass he leant forwards, gazing curiously at the garments exhibited. Strange how they bore resemblance to the clothes he had once worn, deep shades and morbid design. He retreated from his stance of interest and placed his pale hand against the shop door. Pushing effortlessly it obediently swung inwards. Lock already open though it hadn’t been before.

Discarding the soiled clothing he had previously worn, newly clad in plain black jeans, a short sleeved black t-shirt and equally black belt he stared unbelieving at his reflection. In the gloom of the lightless shop he appeared almost human. His skin taking on a less radiant glow, his eyes devoid of the urge to feed and filled instead with quiet contemplation. His lips raised into a slight smile, at once bearing the pristinely white points that he had for a moment forgotten.

It is a false myth that those like him could not gaze into a mirrored surface and look upon what they had become. What would be the pain of a cursed existence if the damned couldn’t see, hear and taste every second of their fate? A cars headlamps illuminated the truth, light glancing off the exposed reality. Where did he belong in this torn and cracked system? Dead yet waltzing with the living. No breath entering his lungs but a certainty that if it could then it would choke him. There was no purpose in existing any longer. Again memories consumed him, dangerously probing at the parts of him he’d always longed to lock away.

***

The bonds around his wrists and ankles would never have kept him tied down for long. So also he was chained around the waist, held down by four strong men and gagged with anything they could shove down his throat. Thrashing at his restraints didn’t loosen them, his distress mounting as they took hold of her. Last words streaming time and time again through his brain.

“Some call it hell, but I know that can’t be true. Wait for me sugar” her last whispered words, plaguing his conscience as once more he thrashed around. Tearing up the ground around him, lashing out in hopeless anger. His surroundings swirling and becoming unclear. Eyes clouded with rage and heartbreak. Throwing back his head and screaming for release, for some undeserved miracle.

Her body was tossed into the flames, wails echoing in his ears as she burned. The jeering crowd so self satisfied and proud. In their eyes they were the Lords people, righteous disciples. In his eyes they were the slaughters of his only love and the jury of his own execution.

“Let him join that wretch! Send them both back to Hell! There shall be no mercy upon their kind, the beasts who snatch our children from their beds and drain the soul out of them”  women shrieked. Smoke plumed heavenwards. The mortals excitement swelled as the agonising cries of torture softly died down. A priest stepped forwards, twisted smile placed on his face.

“May the fires of hell devour her, as our fires have done here. May the souls of those she murdered pick at her flesh and may forgiveness never cross her mind. Let her suffer for the crimes she has brought upon us” he boomed, cheers bringing a finale to this speech.

Tears fell forlornly from the other beasts eyes, sinking deep into the soil were he lay. All effort of escape abandoned. Sobbing out at last he raised his head, piercing the joyous celebration.

“Send me to your hell and let the fire eat me! My body which was born from a mortal woman like so many standing here to become nought but charred remains. My eyes which seek no child to kill but instead the scum which haunt your towns. My heart that doesn’t beat but instead halts to splinter, there is no more you can do to break me. For I lie at your feet already broken…” trailing off he slipped back into silent grief, grey clouds bearing forth a rumble of approval as blessed drops of silver fell from the skies.

***


The rusted gate hung precariously on its hinges, creaking when the breeze brushed against it. Foliage crept across the expanse of public parkland. Neglect leaving it to run wild, obscuring pathways and crawling over low walls with missing stones. Leaves drifted from autumnal trees. Moonlight filtering in between bare branches and casting patterns on the damp grass. He wandered about the oaks and beeches, receiving tiny scratches from rose thorns as he explored. Knocking the dew from its resting place as he created a path through the greenery. The silence didn’t seem so imposing any more, instead he found himself welcoming its tranquil calm. Stopping for a moment, he quietly took note of the throbbing sensation in his limbs. The veins in his hands had taken on a bluish tinge and suddenly every nerve in his body began to ache. He needed to feed, yet the very thought of taking another life repulsed him. However there was no other solution and in such places as this it didn’t take long for him to find a victim.

It was a filthy man passed out on a bench. Cradled numbly in a strangers arms he didn’t even notice the slight prick of fangs on the soft skin of his neck The blood streamed warm and thick. He felt the slowing pulse of the homeless mans heart beneath his lips. A flood of heat beginning to rush through his own cold flesh. Like liquid fire it flowed through his body and soul, igniting every emotion into a frenzy. As the living being he was feasting from took a final shuddering breath, the beast that was feeding from him sought one last draught of fluid. The body grew still and limp. He lay back on the grass, the blood pumping through him making him feel as if he was ablaze.

Rolling his head back he saw that  towering over him was a stone statue. The greying marble shaped into the peaceful figure of a kneeling angel. Two expertly carved wings spread gracefully, an expression of concentration chiselled permanently onto a rounded face. He mimicked the guardians pose and knelt in front of the memorial. Tilting his head upwards he stared into the unblinking eyes.  

Birdsong hailed the arrival of the paling dawn. Sky painted with yellows and oranges, washing away the umbrage that obscured the hours between night and day. The sun rose majestically like a flaming disk of truth chasing the nightmares back into their tombs. This shinning orb of life shone through the outstretched arms of an unblemished obelisk. It depicted an angel in all her glory, face turned upwards towards the heavens and fingers stretched in gentle longing. A swirling breath swept past the park, taking with it a scatter of ivory ashes. This breath passed through the untamed plant life, along the depressed and rotten streets, lingering at moments to see what the night had accomplished.

The body of an aged man lay crumpled with black plastic bags and moulding refuse, a mud sodden dog snuffling at his masters jacket and whining to be taken home. Sirens shrieking the road awake as the bodies of a mother and daughter lay mangled in their crushed car. A boy trudging home to his drunken father, dreading what the new day would bring.