The vampire had a car. An old blood red Bolt, something Henri only recognized through his older brother’s automotive enthusiasm. “Is that still a green car?”
“So I hear,” the vampire said, sliding into the driver’s seat. Henri sat down in the passenger’s seat, closing the door. It was smaller than he thought it would be. Fit the vampire perfectly though, somehow. “Where do you want to be dropped off?”
Right, he hadn’t just stepped into the car to be driven away and fed upon. “Nuevo García.”
The vampire knew where that was it seemed, because he didn’t ask for more than that. The car started out, as quiet as these vehicles ever were.
“You know, there are people who think that you won’t say anything because you were chased off from trespassing.” Henri shot him a look. The vampire continued to stare out at the road, unaffected.
Henri turned his eyes out the front, watching the car going in the correct direction to take him homeward. “It doesn’t really matter.” No one was ever going to do anything about Bloody Bones. Too much effort, he guessed.
As long as Henri never went down that way again, he should have been fine.
Yet suddenly the city seemed terrifying.
“I always eat my vegetables first.”
Her friend looked at her with a disgusted face. “Ew, why would you do that?”
“Because it leaves so much room for improvement.” The girl opened her lunch box and took out her carrots. “Anything I eat next is the best. Even if my mother didn’t use the best jelly after. Apricot is okay after carrots.”
“I don’t think apricot and carrots work together at all.”
Her friend could say whatever she wanted, but the seven year old knew she was right. She ate her carrots.
The green dress was made up of winter. The coat that had once been attached was somewhere else. She had never put it back on after leaving, it had been found in the “coat closet” of the school. It hadn’t mattered. Now it was July and freezing. The ground was full of snow and the ground was full of the dress.
Carine swept the frost off of the top of it. There was the blood, just as she remembered it. Though from a different perspective, when she had been looking down upon it. When she couldn’t feel anything. There was her dress, the one she had thought was perfect for everything she had wanted.
She reached down for the dress.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Stopping in her tracks, Carine tried to recall if it was that voice. The one she couldn’t mistaken. No, it wasn’t. But something about the intonation was the same. She straightened her back and turned.
It was that girl she had danced with. The eighteen year old with the black afro and the beautiful grey eyes.
She wasn’t so beautiful now.
Damnable waste, fell remnants, useful of naught
Interred, inferred, one heard where particles caught
Reeking, foul, smearing things
Trouble, bubble, that rubble which continuously sings
Yesterday you didn’t vacuum, jerk
Feature length films leave me feeling quite
ragged, when the time goes on and I haven’t moved
and my mind is taken up by the world of another.
Guide me to understand why
I could do the same with a book, but always refuse to
leave the confines of the pages after so many hours which
explore my mind in ways those moving images refuse?
They all asked how it had happened, but he didn’t respond. He couldn’t tell them exactly what had happened to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what had happened. Henri knew exactly what had happened to him. There was just little point in mentioning that he had been nearly ripped apart when heading into the alleyways of the Bloody Bones.
Anyone would call him an idiot. It wasn’t like he hadn’t lived here for his entire life.
Henri stood outside of the hospital and the entire city seemed like it was going to open up in front of him and drag him down. His heart hurt against his chest. He could feel every single rib.
Bloody Bones had wanted those ribs.
Henri looked up. The vampire stood, nearly in front of him. “You look like the mascot of that old candy apple company.”
Oh, he hadn’t meant to say that. The vampire smiled though.
“I was. Come on now, mortal. Before you hyperventilate, let’s drive you home.”
Low battery. This was the last phrase that he wanted to read right now.
“Come on, come on.” He muttered, holding his phone out. The only thing on was the light, it was the only thing he had needed. He remembered when he was younger that his mother had always told him to have a pocket flashlight nearby, maybe stashed in his car. He thought having a phone with a light was good enough. Well, she would be laughing at him now. Too long a conversation before this. Now he needed a flashlight. He also needed a working phone when he got out of these tunnels, so as to get out of this mess. Which should he give up?
Reluctantly, he turned off his phone to save the rest of the power. Standing still, he tried to adjust his eyes to the dark of the tunnel. But that only worked when there was light coming from somewhere. And there wasn’t, there wouldn’t be, it was the dark of the underground.
Hand to the side, he walked forward.