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Hunting Evangeline - A short story

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Zachariah

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Post January 12th, 2007, 8:35 pm

Hunting Evangeline - A short story

Part 1

I’ve been hunting Evangeline for seven months now.

My clothes are filthy, tattered and torn. I’ve been too intent on my pursuit to care about the finer things in life, like cleanliness. There was a time when things like a fresh pair of jeans straight out of the dryer mattered to me, when dirt didn’t stick to me like an intimate lover. According to the weather guy on the tv station I saw this evening, it’s January 8th. I didn’t see much more than that. The store owner came out and pushed me away from his window with a broom. I guess he agrees with my assessment. I stink.

Hard to believe I’ve been on the road for seven months.

I hardly sleep. I can’t sleep, have to keep moving. I have to keep on Evangelines trail. It’s been a long journey, from Florida up to New York, and then west. I nearly had the bitch in Chicago, but that was two weeks ago.

I don’t know where she’s headed, but she knows I’m coming for her. She was always able to feel me and Wren, no matter how far apart we were. ‘The ties that bind us together’, she used to call them. I don’t think she ever guessed that they would work both ways. I’m using them to track her. If she’d known I could do that, I would be dead too, like Wren.

**************

Back when I first met her, Evangeline was ever the socialite. She drew people to her like moths to a flame, and didn’t care in the slightest when they got burned. She’d had a hundred lovers before, and intended to have a hundred more.

I don’t think she knew what she was getting in to when she saw Wren at a party, and pulled my sister closer to her flame. She certainly didn’t expect that where there was Wren, I would soon follow. She had wanted my sister, who shone at all the important gatherings like a glorious star. But when Evangeline followed Wren home and she saw me, fresh back from collage with a head full of crap, fast asleep on the couch, she realised Wren and I were a matched pair. How could she resist us? We were the perfect little twin-set to add to her collection.

She courted us both, complimented us and spoiled us. She treated us like queens and we swallowed up the attention like starving children. It was enevitable that she would take us. First Wren, and then I joined Evangeline in her bed as lovers, seperately at first. After a time, she convinced us that it was so much simpler for all three of us to be together. We were so far under her spell now, we could see nothing wrong with her logic. Her ‘little birds’, she called us, as she lay between us in the bed, twirling her fingers through our long dark hair. Her little Jaye and Wren. She told us that she loved us, and we thrilled to hear the words.

We were a pair of orphans, who had found someone to take care of us. Wren and I loved her with everything we were. Anything she asked of us we would give willingly, and so when she asked us to open our legs for her when our blood flowed, we did so without a thought. If it was the price we paid to be with her, then she was welcome to it. It only happened one week every month, and it wasn’t as if we had a use for it, so what did it matter.

We were in her spell, and she held us tight to her.

Then one night, I awoke to feel her nuzzling against my crotch. I was so used to this by now, I parted my thighs for her, pushing her against me without opening my eyes. I tensed as I expected her kiss, but instead of sweet pleasure, there came absolute agony. She drew my essence into her with a force I had never felt before, and I screamed. With all the strength I had, I wrenched her face from me.

Evangeline stood against one wall, watching me with fire lit eyes, her once white gown now crimson. She was soaked in blood. My blood. I looked for my sister, and found her pale, the sheets between her legs dark with blood. Wren gasped, and her arms sought mine. We writhed on the bed, clutching at each other, frightened and in agony. Evangeline came to us then, her breath tainted by the copper scent of our life which stained her lips, and ran soft fingers through our hair, soothing us then as she had done so often before. When she lifted first one wrist, and then another to her mouth and bit down hard, we were too close to death to see it. But when she pressed those bloody wounds to our lips, and we felt the fire of her blood flood into our mouths, we found the strength to hold fast to her, and suckle like new born babes.

************

Even now, as I hunt her, I wonder why she brought us over. We would have willingly satisfied her hunger for many years to come, but instead she turned us into things which could give her no comfort and no sustinance.

************

With our new life came new rules. That was the first thing that she laid on us when we awoke that next evening. Evangeline had become our teacher, and the first lesson she taught us was that the V word was absolutely forbidden. Of course, when Wren and I realised what we had become, ‘Vampire’ was our first name for it, and when we said it to Evangeline, she flew into a fury. We had never seen such rage in her before, and didn't expect the blows which rained down upon us as we cowered in a corner. She beat us and kicked us, screaming at the top of her lungs. Wren and I were too weak from the change to fight back, not that we would have even if we could.

When I was a child I could never understand why battered wives often stayed with their husbands. Now I understand. We were afraid of Evangeline, but we loved her. We never even contemplated leaving her.

When her fury had abated, Evangeline drew us into her arms, soothing us, and appologising for the harm she had caused. Even as she spoke, our wounds healed. She told us that we were to never use that word, although she never gave us a reason why.

It became clear to us that our perfect Evangeline had a few imperfect kinks. One of them was her preferred source of sustenance. It is not necessary for those of our kind to feed every day, but small amounts at regular intervals seemed to be the way to go, and was the way that Evangeline taught us. She did not practice what she preached however. Evangeline preferred to starve herself, and then binge on blood once a month. For us, blood could come in any shape or form. We took blood from men, women, children and animals in those first few weeks, learning the different tastes each gave us, cultivating our palettes. For Evangeline however, blood came from only one source. We did not know why, but she refused to feed on anything but menstrual blood, and she went to great lengths to get it.

Other rules swiftly followed. We were never to go out during the day, for sunlight was death to us. We must never kill our victims, for their death would bring destruction to our doorstep. We were better than humans, for they were cattle to us now, but we must be careful not to reveal ourselves to them. As Evangeline put it, 'even cattle can be dangerous when they stampede.' But the most important rule we learned was that to disobey Evangeline would bring down her fury upon us, and above all else, we feared this the most.
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Zachariah

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Post January 15th, 2007, 4:26 pm

Part 2

My stomach is turning somersaults. When was the last time I fed? I remember a girl outside a Mickey D’s in Madison. Or was it a guy. Shit, why do I care? They’re just rest stops to keep me going. I’ll have to find something soon though. Unlike Evangeline, I can’t go much more than three or four days without feeding. Although, I’m not as picky as she is.

***************

Evangeline may have loved us, but she could no longer feed from us. Wren and I soon discovered that our bodies didn’t work that way any more. At first, we looked on it as a blessed relief from the cramps, and the hassle of tampons. Perhaps it was a twin thing. We started at the same time, and came on within an hour or two of each other every month. We must have provided a banquet for Evangeline each month, but now that was over and she needed a new cow to milk.

She moved us east, heading for the party town of New Orleans. I guess Austin, Texas had started to cramp her style. We traveled first class of course, using some of the money from the trust fund Wren and I had been given when our parents passed away.

New Orleans was a different world to us. I had traveled a little. College was out of state for me, so I’d seen a little bit of the U.S. Even so, the color, the sheer vibrancy of New Orleans took my breath away. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for Wren, who had never been out of Austin.

We quickly became the toast of the town. Miss Evangeline and her two dazzling nieces. We were nothing but tools for Evangeline. I realise that now. She had us trawling the clubs and bars every night, looking for just the right type of girl for her needs. It wasn’t enough that our beloved mistress had cast us aside now that we could not serve her. She had us looking for our replacement. And yet, even though we knew in some way what was happening, we still loved our Evangeline.

She grew frantic after the first week there. Despite our efforts, whomever we brought to our hotel was not good enough for Evangeline. She would find flaws in all of our choices, sending each girl away from her without even tasting her. Evangeline’s ire turned into fury at us. Were we so useless that we could not find what she needed? Again we felt Evangeline’s rage, and again, we cowered in the corner, holding tightly to one another as blow after blow rained down upon us. We were petrified of her rage. But again, she soothed us afterwards, clutching us to her breasts like children, stroking our hair till the injuries she had caused faded away. She continuously whispered in our ears that she loved us, and we took heart in that fact. We never wanted her to stop loving us. We were sorry for failing her. We would try harder. We would do anything to keep her with us. We would do anything to keep her rage from us.

The three of us made love together that night, frantic, desperate to be a part of each other, as we had before. With Evangeline's head between my legs, I prayed for just a little blood to flow, just enough to keep her satiated, but my prayers were not answered. Wrens hand grasped mine, between us on the bed, and when I looked into my sisters eyes, I could see that she too wished for the blood to come.

*************

Where the hell am I? There’s a sinuously moving sign over the freeway, if I can get across it without getting nailed by a big-rig.

Blaring horns deafen me as the dumb shmucks swerve at 70 miles an hour to avoid me. They’d be doing their entire race a favour if they just plowed me down, but somehow, nobody dies, not even me. I reach the other side like the proverbial chicken and head towards pink neon.

Breasts as big as my head blink on and off. God Bless America! Where would this country be without a titty bar out on the edge of every town. Since all I’ve passed in the last hour was an Amish village, I’m guessing the next town is a way on ahead of me. Can’t see many Menonites flinging dollars at these girls.

I don’t know why I didn’t stop and feed on the Amish. I get kind of uncomfortable around religeous types. Not that I’ve stopped long enough to spend any time with them. Maybe it’s something to do with what Evangeline's blood left in my system. Maybe deep down, underneath all the sin I’ve committed, there’s a little purity left in me. If that’s the case, I should give up and chow down. I don’t have enough digits to count up my list of crimes unless I take my socks off, if you know what I mean. Somehow, I don’t think I’m going to heaven, even if I leave every god botherer alive from now till the day I die. Again.

A smell of sweat and lust pours from the place like a wave, and it draws me towards the black doors. The handles are shaped like bunny heads. I shake my head as I reach for one. Bunnies and sex. I guess in a man’s mind, things like that connect. Even before Evangeline, I’d never understood what went on in a guys brain. I sometimes doubt if they even have one.

An example in point is this bozo. A big gorilla stuffed into a monkey suit. Greeter-come-bouncer, he takes one look and agrees with me and the store owner from last night. He doesn’t want me anywhere near the girls.

One thing I like about most guys. They see a woman, even one as shit covered as I am right now, and they don’t know how to handle us. They’re so afraid of touching boobs and getting a stiffy, that they try not to touch us at all. This one is making a double effort cause I smell so bad. Hands behind his back, he’s trying to use his bulk to block my way in.

I’m so glad he took his hands out of the equasion. A kick between his legs has him doubled over, a downward sweep with my heel slams his face into the ground. A stamp on the back of his neck, a snap, and he’s gone. Now he’s just another sin blocking my way into heaven, but at least he’s not blocking my way into the club anymore. I push through another set of doors and I’m in the bar.

It’s quiet tonight, and that suits me fine. Just a few guys up by the stage drooling over a cute blond, working the pole for all she’s got. I get the feeling she’s one of those struggling dancer types, because she moves too damn well for a place like this. I’ve seen her type before. They always taste good.



NB for the British: In America, the Macdonalds fast food chain is nicknamed Micky D's. Those crazy Colonials!!! *grin*
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Zachariah

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Post January 17th, 2007, 3:18 am

Part 3

When Wren and I walked into the club, all eyes turned to look at us. It wasn’t every day two identical women walk into a strip club, hand in hand, and looking as innocent as the day they were born. Men flocked to us, and we enjoyed the attention, but we could not enjoy it for long, for we knew Evangeline was starving back at the hotel.

She had gone almost two months without feeding now. We could not believe how strong she was. Even though she was now a pale gaunt shadow of her former self, she still commanded our every emotion. We had been sent out tonight with an imperative. We must find what she needed, or she would perish, and with her death would come our own. Evangeline was our maker. She told us that as it was her blood that flowed through our veins, if she died, then so would we.

We sat at a table beside the stage, aware of every eye that gazed longingly at us in our identical white silk and lace gowns. Evangeline chose our clothes for us, as she directed almost every aspect of our lives. She loved to dress us in gowns that would have not been out of place in a sixteenth century French court. In any other place but New Orleans, we would have been regarded as freaks, but in that shining city, we were royalty. It was also Evangeline's habit to make us mirrors for each other. If Wrens hair was pinned up to the left, then mine would be up to the right.

The girl on stage danced on, her eyes almost glazed over as she sent her mind to another place. She did not care that we held her audience enthralled. For her, there was no audience. She was beautiful, with skin the color of caramel and hair that surrounded her like an auburn halo as she moved. She was a gifted dancer, each movement graceful and elegant. Each stitch of clothing that left her body was removed in such a way as to not interrupt the flow of her movement. She was not one of those girls who squashed her breasts together to titillate her audience, or bent coquettishly to reveal her glistening sex to them. She was not here to strip. She was here to dance.

I felt Wren lean closer to me. She whispered that she wanted her, but I cautioned my sister that there were too many eyes upon us. We would wait patiently, and take her later.

When the girl finished her set, Wren and I shared a moment of grief. She was a truly gifted artist. Leaving our table, we made our way to the roped off section, and asked to be allowed to speak with her. A message was taken to the young woman and we were granted admittance. If we had been men, I don’t think we would have gotten our wish. An advantage of being female.

We were led backstage to the dressing room shared by all the dancers, and there she was, our dazzling artiste, swathed in a flannel dressing gown, and cuddled up on a couch with a beautiful child version of herself. Our choice was named Collette, and the child she held tight in her arms was her thirteen year old daughter Renee. Even from this distance, our strong senses could tell that Renee was at the right point in her monthly cycle. Wren and I shared a glance. We had found the perfect gift for Evangeline.

***************

So many sins in my past, and I’m about to commit one more. Jumping onto the stage, I pull that pretty blond into my arms. The morons by the stage think it’s part of the act. Even though I’m covered in crap they think that I’ll peel my clothes off for them and show them a good time. I’ll show them a good time, but my clothes are staying on.

The blond knows it’s not an act. She struggles against me, shouting out a name. Probably the monkey suited gorilla I left by the door. Her struggles excite me. Sick, but true. I like it when they fight back. Adrenaline makes them taste so much better.

I start to tell her that I won’t hurt her, but who am I kidding. I hope they have en-suite bathrooms in hell.

If I had met this girl eight months ago, we might have been lovers, but not anymore. I rear back and do my Christopher Lee impression. My teeth press against her skin, and I feel her flesh snap, giving way to the pressure of my canines. Her life flows into my mouth. I knew she would taste sweet, and she does. I can’t believe that I’m actually stroking her hair as she starts to sag against me. I follow her to the floor pulling every last drop of her inside.

We don’t have to kill our food, but when you don’t care about the rules anymore, does it really matter who live and who dies?

When I look up, I expect to find the place empty, but can you believe that the dumb bastards are still sitting there. One guy’s even got his coat in his lap, and only one hand is on the table.

Then it registers on their faces that somethings wrong. I’m covered in blood, and the blond isn’t moving. That’s right you dumb shits. She’s dead. This wasn’t some weird lesbian beauty and the beast set.

Finally they start to leave their seats and back away. Coat guy is fumbling with his piece, trying to stuff it back in his pants, and he’s the first to go down. I dive off the stage and barrel him to the ground.

*************

We took our new found friends back to the hotel. We told Collette that we could pay well for a private show. At first, she did not want to come. She did not want to go anywhere and leave Renee behind. We promised her the Renee would be safe if she came with us. We had an aunt who would take care of her precious daughter.

We had learned the trick of making them love us by now. Collettes eyes glazed, and we led her and Renee back to the hotel like lambs to the slaughter.

As we had known she would, Evangeline fell for little Renee as soon as she saw her. Without a word, she led the precious young girl to our bedroom, leaving Wren and I alone with our Collette.

We had our fill of the mother, leaving her asleep on the couch, and went to check on Evangeline. She was tenderly tucking the sheets up around Renee’s sleeping form. No longer was our mistress pale and gaunt, but hale, and full of life. We had done well, she told us.

We left the girl sleep and went back into the lounge, where Evangeline fell upon us, her passion aroused by the blood of Renee coursing through her. As if our lovemaking wasn’t enough for Evangeline, she told us to wake Collette, and she was brought into our passionate tryst.

**************

Have you ever seen a fox in a chicken run? The word you’re looking for is frenzy. If it moves, it dies. When I come out of it, there are pieces lying all around me. Don’t ask me to say what bit goes where, I was never any good at jigsaws.

I grab a chair leg and jump the bar. Wood meets glass as I take the top shelf out. Alcohol hits my nose, and for just a moment masks the stench of all that blood. A match book provides the spark and I haul ass through the back rooms to the back door. There’s always a back door.

And then I realize that I’m covered in blood. Okay, so it’s pretty damned obvious, but I’m not exactly thinking straight. I remember passing a lake a mile or so back. Looks like I’m gonna get that bath I needed.

Except that the lake is frozen when I get there. January in Wisconsin. Of course the frigging lake is frozen. But there’s one thing I’ve learned as I’ve come west. Where there is a frozen lake, there’s a hole in the ice with some guy holding a pole over it. And sure enough as I look out over the lake in the moonlight, I can see several shacks on the ice. I head to the nearest one, and push the thing over, exposing the hole. There’s a crust of ice blocking my way to the water but it’s not thick enough that I can’t get through it if I really want to. And I really want to.

I pull off my clothes and slip into the water. Thank god I’m already dead. If I wasn’t, this water is so cold that I soon would be. I duck my head under the water, and run my hands through my hair a few times. Looking up from here, I can see the moon shining down on the ice, illuminating the white ceiling of this under water world. Odd that in my worst moments, I can notice such beauty. Shit, I’m messed up.
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Zachariah

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Post January 17th, 2007, 11:30 pm

Part 4

Evangeline treated our guests to the finest things they could possibly wish for, using our trust fund to pay for it. Collette and Renee were to have beautiful gowns, and fine food. Collette was made to quit her job at the strip club, and mother and child came to live with us at the hotel. They loved us completely, and without reservation. I think it was this unconditional love, more than anything, that set my sisters thoughts in motion, and from these thoughts grew the seed of doubt.

Evangeline never joined us when we fed, and we had quickly grown bored with Collette’s taste. Evangeline would not share Renee with us, and so, once Evangeline had taken a few moments to dress us in identical gowns, Wren and I went out into the night to find more palatable meals. We sought a variety of life to satisfy our needs, and one donor was just not enough for us. We walked along Bourbon Street, soaking up the Louisiana air, the music, the very soul of the city. After a time, I became aware that my sister’s eyes were fixed on my face as we walked. I turned to her, asking her why she stared at me.

Without any warning, she posed a question that I could never have expected. She asked me if I still loved Evangeline.

I was confused. Evangeline was our maker, our lover, and our entire reason for being. I told Wren that I loved Evangeline with all my heart, as I knew she did also. Wren smiled softly, becoming almost unnaturally quiet as she walked beside me. Wren was often silent, whilst I could chatter until my jaw hurt, but that night her silence bothered me. Her question rattled around in my mind. It was true that Evangeline was our creator, and it was true that she was still our lover, despite the fact we had not made love since the first night we had brought Collette and Renee to stay with us. I began to think of all the things that had happened to Wren and myself, before and after the change had been made to our lives. The more I thought about it, the more I came to realise that there was a distance growing between ourselves and our dark mistress. The night Evangeline had given us her blood, she broke the one tie that truly held us all together. She could no longer feed from us, and was now forming that connection with little Renee. If she was truly casting us aside, then why did we remain with her.

I could not bring myself to admit that Evangeline did not love us. I still loved her, and I still longed for her touch on my skin. I would not allow these thoughts to ruin our beautiful family. But no matter how I denied it, Wrens question had opened a door in my mind that I found difficult to shut now it had been thrown wide.

This had been Wren’s intent, I am sure. Although I was the educated one, although Wren had never gone to college as I had, she was by far more intelligent than I, and more insightful as well. I think she must have begun to see what lay beneath our once unquestioning devotion to Evangeline the moment we had brought Collette and Renee to the hotel, but had not said anything, brooding as she had often done in mortal life, until she was certain of her conclusion. Once she had reached that point, she had shared her thoughts with me. She was dealing with things that we could never have imagined would come between us, and so she had posed her doubts in the most innocent of questions. To think that she feared what I might have done to her if I didn’t agree with her still causes me grief and pain. It causes me more to know that she was right to fear.

*************

I regain consciousness on the edge of the lake, naked and crying for my sister. Lines of pale blood trail from my eyes, and my lamentations echo across the silent, moonlit ice. I wipe my tears away hastily, not wanting to admit to myself that without Wren, I am lost, but knowing that it’s completely true. It is her memory that has driven me onward for the past seven months, and I’m not about to give up now. Pulling myself to my feet, I take a deep breath and throw out my senses to find Evangeline's trail. I have no idea how long I’ve been out of it, or even how I got out from under the ice, but I couldn’t have lost too much time. There’s the faintest tug at my awareness, off to my right, to the west. I turn to face that direction, and an involuntary cry of fear escapes my lips.

A haze of red light illuminates the horizon. If dawn finds me, it will end me. I have to hide. Have to find somewhere underground, or shut off from the light to save myself from it’s killing rays.

And then it hits me. The sun doesn’t rise in the west, and it doesn’t rise when the moon is still high overhead. So what can that light be? Then I realise what it is.

As I draw close to the blaze, images of my victims dance accusingly in the flames like a macabre cabaret. Monkey Suit, The Blond Girl, Coat Guy, and all the other occupents of the strip joint. Faces that will follow me to hell, a procession of victims in my own little parade.

Crap. I really shouldn’t be standing here watching the place burn down. Fire fighters swarm all around what’s left of the club, trying to control the inferno. The fire is warm and is bringing a much needed heat to my freezing skin, but if I intend to go any further tonight, I’m going to need some clothes. A naked woman running around in below zero temeratures tends to attract more than a little attention.

****************

Evangeline had found what she was looking for in New Orleans, and we moved once more. This time, our now enlarged family settled on the outskirts of Miami. She had organised an apartment for us, again using our trust fund money to pay the first three months rent.

At the rate Evangeline was spending our trust fund, we would soon dry up. A lot had already gone to paying my college tuition, but there had been sufficient funds for Wren also. Somehow, I don’t think our parents were expecting us to be staying in hotels, or buying expensive attire. I was sure Wren had come to the same conclusion that I had, but she said nothing of it.

We went out our first night in Miami to sample the Florida cuisine, leaving Colette, Renee and Evangeline to organise our new home. As we walked, we spoke of mundane things, and I tried to steer the conversation in the direction I wanted it to take. Finally, I was able to bring the matter of our finances into the conversation. Wren laughed, but there was no hapiness in the sound, and asked me when I had realised that we would soon be bled dry. I looked at her, stunned. It was not Wren's habit to speak so harshly to me.

Finally, Wren confided in me all of her fears. She had come to realise that we were no longer Evangeline's favourites. She was not certain we had ever been anything more than a convenient meal and a bank roll for sweet Evangeline. Wren told me that we had to break free from Evangeline's hold on us. She was convinced that Evangeline had lied to us when she told us that her death would mean our own. She confided in me that she had a plan that would set us free from our mistress.

I could not believe what I was hearing. Despite everything I had been thinking, I still loved Evangeline. I still regarded her as my lover, and the one who had gifted me with this eternal life. I argued with my sister. I spoke for Evangeline. I defended her with my every breath.

Wren grew angry. Her face grew flushed as she shouted at me to not be stupid. Could I not see that Evangeline was a leech, draining us of first our blood and then our money. I shook my head, denying her, denying the accusations she flung at Evangeline.

Wren flew at me then, coming out of nowhere and landing a solid blow to my jaw. Her strength, magnified by our vampiric blood was unbelievable. I fell to the floor, and she rode me down, taking my face between her hands and bashing my head against the ground. The world went black, and the last thing I heard was my beautiful, clever, wonderful sister Wren telling me that she was sorry.

************

I just love truckers. I’ve been standing at the side of the road with my thumb held out for no more than thirty seconds when a small truck slows down and pulls onto the shoulder. The passenger side door opens invitingly. I’m not sure whether it’s the Fire Fighters jacket, or the vast amount of leg he can see under it that’s convinced the driver to stop, but what do I care. I hobble over to the open door and as I expect, the guy looks me up and down before asking me where I’m going.

I climb in and he gets a flash of what’s underneath the jacket as I tell him that I’m headed west. He looks at the road, and I start to think he might actually start driving, but no, my expectations are fulfilled as he puts a hand on my knee and slides it upwards.

Ah well, might as well play along. I smile at him, and put my hands on either side of his face, pulling him to my lips. His mouth presses over mine, and he stuffs his tongue half way down my throat. I don’t like things in my mouth unless I invite them there, so I remove it. With my teeth.

I spit out the still writhing purple mass of muscle as he gurgles out what I think is a scream. I press my lips to his again, jumping into his lap and wedging myself against the steering wheel so he cant move. His blood is laced with alcohol. I’m doing the world a favour taking this bastard out of it. Drinking and driving don’t mix. Hasn’t anyone told him that?

His death comes quickly, and I notice a loud, annoying sound, which I finally realise is the trucks horn. My bare ass is pressed against te button on the steering wheel, and the plastic is cold against my skin. Once I slide out of Mr. Tongueless’ lap, the sound stops.

The cabin of the truck is a little cramped, but I manage to get him out of his clothes, and I pull them on, wishing I had a pair of panties to separate me and the crotch of his pants. Strabge that up untill an hour ago, I couldn't give a shit how filthy I was, but now I'm clean, I don't want his crud next to my pussy.

Dragging Mr. Tongueless across my lap, I throw him onto the shoulder, and pull the door shut. Thankfully the freeway has quietened some since I had to cross it earlier. I don’t think anyone saw or heard anything, but just to make sure no one will be able to tell who my benefactor was, I disguise the evidence. Several tonnes of truck passing back and forth over a corpse has the effect of disguising it as a pinkish-red smear of indetermined flesh on the side of the road.

The whole effort takes about a couple of minutes, and so far, I still havn't seen any traffic on the freeway, but I start to think that I’m beginning to push my luck a little. I start the truck forward and keep on going, building up speed on my journey west.

I’m coming for you Evangeline.

A mile or so down the road, I pull over and hang out of the window as I throw up. A mass of red liquid coats the tarmac. I guess even a vampire can drink too much. At least, I tell myself that's what it is, and that I'm not sickened by how souless I've become.
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Post January 20th, 2007, 4:40 pm

Part 5

Waking, I did not know where I was. As I blinked my eyes groggily, I experienced an extremely odd sensation. My skull healed from the crack it had been dealt by Wren’s powerful insistence that it meet the pavement, and I could literally feel the bone knitting together. But my attention did not spend long focusing on the healing of my body. I was more concerned about my sister. What had she done whilst I had been disabled? I know that she had not expected me to wake so soon, as she had carried me to what appeared to be a storage garage. Boxes were piled up all around me. Two of them had tipped over, I assume when Wren had deposited me on the ground, and there were several teddy bears littering the floor. Some paper had fallen partly across one, bringing the image to my mind of a homeless man I had once seen, who had made his bed on a park bench, using a newspaper as a blanket.

I managed to get to my unsteady feet, and made my way to the door, pulling it up just a crack. To my relief, no light shone under the door, and I was convinced that it was still a while till dawn. It seemed my sister had misjudged the time it took for our vampiric bodies to heal. If it was still night, perhaps I could make it back to our new house and stop the madness which was consuming Wren.

Wrenching the garage door open, I ran out into the night. It took only a few minutes to find a street I recognised from my walk with Wren earlier, and I knew the direction to take back to our apartment.

***************

It seems I didn’t need to hurry with Mr. Tongueless. The freeway is virtually dead, and I’ve seen maybe a handful of cars and trucks heading in either direction. The clock on the dashboard of my truck tells me it’s 4:30 a.m. Not a lot of traffic going to Minnesota at this time in the morning I guess. Judging by the little numbers on the freeway signs that are counting down to the border, I’ve got maybe ten miles till I cross over the state line. I’ll be glad to put Wisconsin behind me.

Something tell me this whole journey is drawing to an end. The further I go along this freeway, the stronger my sense of Evangeline’s presence gets.

Dawn will be coming soon. The truck has one of those metal box trailers, not a canvas one, so it should be safe to wait out the sun in there. I really want to keep going, but Evangeline won’t be going anywhere during the day. At least I don’t think she will. It’s not the first time she’s gotten away from me when I got close to her.

The Saint Croix river winds in a serpentine fashion across the landscape, marking the border between the two states, and as I drive out onto the bridge which spans it, I breath a sigh of relief.

The first exit comes up not long after, and I take it off the freeway. I find a quiet piece of woodland not too far off, and convince the truck that it will fit between the trees. Getting it out might be a bit tricky, but I should be able to manage. I climb out of the cab, and go round to the trailer. There’s a lock on the door, but with a little work I manage to pop it open. To my amazement, I find the contents of someones life stored in the back. I didn’t pay attention to the side of the truck when I jacked it, but it seems that I scored a removal truck. It can’t be Tongueless’ stuff. It’s too tasteful. I pull myself into the back and pull the door down behind me, then turn to investigate the stash.

Most of it is the normal stuff you expect to find in someones house. There’s a couch against one side of the trailer, with a single box-frame bed purched on top of it. A washing machine stands in front of me, along with a stove and several other large appliances, but I manage to climb over them to investigate further. Just behind a huge dresser, I find a big fourposter bed which sits against the back wall.

Looking at the bed, I think I must have died and somehow managed to get past those sins, and I’m in heaven. I’ve been sleeping in cow sheds, barns and garages for the past seven months. That bed looks too soft to be real! Climbing past the dresser, I land on the mattress and almost faint with joy. It is real.

There are several boxes piled up on the bed, all neatly labled. I pull open one that says 'Jenny’s Stuff' on the side in magic marker, and find it full of clothes, which smell wonderful and clean. There’s even some underwear. I instantly discard Tongueless’ over sized jeans and sweatshirt, and pull on a pair of panties which just about fit without falling off my painfully narrow hips. Comfortable jeans and a t-shirt which bares the slogan ‘IMPEACH THE PRESIDENT’ get pulled on too.

Judging from Jenny’s tastes, she’s about fourteen, and opening a few more of her boxes, I find a photo album which shows a young teenage girl and her friends hanging out at the mall, getting ready for prom, all the things Wren and I did when we were kids.

The last box I pull open holds amongst other things, a large down comforter, and I pull it over myself thankfully. It’s been so long since I was warm and clean, that I can’t believe it’s really me feeling this good. Instantly, I feel guilty for enjoying myself. I have a mission to complete. I have to find Evangeline.

I can feel the first rays of the sun as it crests the horizon, deep down in my gut. Pulling the comforter over my head, I feel myself slowly drift into unconsciousness.

****************

I found Collette in the kitchen. The back door had been torn off it’s hinges, making it obvious that my sister had come in this way. She must have surprised Collette in the middle of mopping the linolium floor for the woman was impailed upon the mop handle which had been driven through her body until stopped by the ragged string head. She had fallen to her knees, and sagged backwards against the shaft, which keapt her from falling over. Blood pooled around her knees, like a dark lake. The sight of it excited me and sickened me at the same time.

Even before I opened the door to the den, I knew that there was more death contained within. The copper taint of blood was stronger in this room, and as I pushed through the door, I discovered why.

One wall had literally been coated with blood. Furniture which had been here when we arrived lay broken and in tatters, strewn across the room, and also stained with the dark liquid which squelched audibly as I pushed my way through the carnage into the den. As I moved an armchair out of my way, I caught sight of a small hand, it’s fingers curled inward slightly, protruding from underneath the upturned couch, and moving it aside, my blood froze as I uncovered the body of Renee.

Her small frame had been torn open at the shoulder, and the arm which had allowed me to discover her had been nearly severed from her body. Judging by her position, it was her blood which coated the wall. The muscles around Renee’s arm were torn, as though her arm had been wrenched from her body. Forcing myself to investigate further, I found bruises on both of her wrists. A suspicion came to my mind and I clasped Renee’s wrist gently over the bruises. My hand matched the size of the marks identically, whilst the other set were a little bigger. I swallowed back the blood which came to my throat as I gagged involuntarily. Wren and Evangeline had fought over Renee, and their vampiric strength had literally torn the girl asunder. Renee’s pretty face was twisted in an expression of agony. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in a silent scream.

From the den, two sets of bloody footprints led to the bedroom. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go further, but I had to know what had happened. I had to know if my sister had managed to kill Evangeline.

*****************

Night falls and I wake up like magic, in a bed. For a moment I think I’m still asleep, but then I remember the trove of goodies I found in the trailer last night, and I realise where I am.

I’m soon back behind the wheel, glad that no-one found the truck during the day. The sense of Evangeline is stronger still, and I know that I am drawing close to her.

As I enter downtown Saint Paul, I get a strong tug upwards, and casting my glance at the skyline, I know where she is. True to form, Evangeline is staying in a swanky looking hotel. What worries me is that she knows I’m coming. She can feel me as strongly as I can feel her, so why is she not moving. When I found her in Chicago, she couldn’t haul ass faster to get away from me. The bitch waved bye bye at me just before she mowed me down in a boosted sports car. This time, there’s no sense of movement. She’s staying put, and that’s not like her.

I dump the truck a few blocks away, and get to the hotel on foot. I walk into the building and the guy at the front desk tries to stop me. I tell him my aunt Evangeline is in town and she’s asked me to visit her, and he nods as though he expected this. It’s too f****** easy. I don’t like this.

I get into the elevator and press thirty buttons. The guy next to me starts to bitch about that, but I snarl at him, and he catches a glimpse of my pearly whites. He turns pale and gets out on the next floor. Bet he’s glad I pushed all those buttons now!

As the elevator stops at each floor, I try to sense whether Evangeline is there. As I get higher, I feel her getting closer, until I cant distinguish direction from her any more. At floor twenty-five, I get out of the lift. This is the right floor.

My god, I can smell her perfume. She’s so close I can taste her on my tongue. I feel her fingers slide across my skin, leaving little trails of fire on my flesh, and it’s everything I remembered. My head fills with the sense of her, sliding down my body to place a kiss against first one, and then the other of my nipples, bringing a gasp from me as she teases them to stiffness between her lips. I fall against the wall of the corridor, moaning in pleasure as she kisses her way down, her tongue flicking at my navel. I sink to my knees, gasping as an orgasm rocks through my body. She slips her tongue between my lips and explores beyond, and my body bows in pleasure.

And then I hear her voice, velvet softness against my mind. “I love you, my little Jaye-bird.
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Post January 26th, 2007, 6:02 pm

Part 6 - The Finale

I called out for my sister, and my voice was ragged, filled with the worry and the shock that assaulted me in rapid succession. I’d never seen such cruelty as the fate which had befallen Collette and Renee. Even when I fed, I had always been gentle with those I took, and when I was done, the worst they could have felt was a slight weakness. As I had almost always fed with Wren, I had been fairly certain she had been as caring as I to her victims. Until I had seen the mangled body of that little girl in the living room, and her impaled mother in the kitchen, I had never have thought my sister capable of such cruelty.

I called out to Wren again, and as before, I was answered by silence. I spoke Evangeline’s name softly, as though to evoke her name any louder would be a betrayal to Wren, but for a third time, I received no answer. I could no longer put off the inevitable. I knew that I would have to enter the bedroom and face whatever waited for me.

I prayed that I would find the room empty, but as I pushed open the door, I knew it would not be so. Light from the living room flooded through the doorway, and lying as though framed by the electric glow was the body of my sister. Crimson tears flooding from my eyes, I dropped to my knees beside her, lifting her lifeless form into my arms and holding her to my breast as anguished sobs erupted from my body.

How long I held her like that, I do not know, but eventually, I calmed myself enough to take stock of what had happened. I looked at the room first. I could not bring myself to examine my sisters corpse yet, which I still held tightly in my arms. Wren must have put up an enormous struggle, for this room, like the living room before it, was an illustration of chaos. In the center of the room, the huge, king-size bed frame that was to have held Evangeline, Wren and I as we slept during the day was broken in two, and the mattress which had rested on top of it had been torn apart. Stuffing and springs from the mattress lay with the shattered remains of two end tables, covering the floor as though a miniature hurricane had swept through the room.

Finally, I made myself look at Wren. I shuddered as I took in the hole at her chest, which I knew without a doubt would be the size of Evangeline’s fist. Examining the wound, I found that Wren’s sternum had been snapped and thrust aside, and that her heart had been removed. Looking around, I couldn’t see the missing organ anywhere. Had Evangeline taken it with her, and more to the point, where was she now.

A gentle, warm June breeze ruffled the curtains as I knelt there, contemplating the whereabouts of my sisters heart. The ruffled curtains settled back against the frame, now revealing the shattered window which had been mostly hidden behind them. Evangeline’s escape route no doubt.

Standing, I lifted Wren’s body up with me, and I knew what I must do. Exiting the building the same way Evangeline had, I ran out into the night, carrying Wrens body cradled in my arms.

Wren was wrapped in a piece of plastic sheeting, and burried in a shallow, unmarked grave in a nearby park, beneath a lilac bush. I discovered that night how strong and fast a vampire can truly be as I dug her grave. Once she was safely interred, I threw out my senses, instinctively feeling for Evangeline. I had never done it before, I had no idea I could do it, but when I touched her, I knew she was fleeing north.

An hour before the first rays of sunlight touched the grave of my sister, I was hot on Evangeline’s trail.

***************

I need her so badly. I need to be with her. I crawl on my belly along the corridor towards the room she is in. I can feel Evangeline pulling at me, drawing me into her as she did when she first made me what I am.

‘She made you her slave, Jaye! Get up off the ground.’

I stop, and look around. My head clears a little. I shake it, and my brain unfogs some more. Wren? No, it couldn’t be. She’s dead and buried. It is my own mind trying to protect me.

Now that my heads clear, I can feel what Evangeline is trying to do. It’s powerful mojo, but as long as I stay focussed on something other than what she’s doing, I can fight it. God, I can still feel her trying to worm around inside my head, trying to draw me back into her sick little fantasy. I once thought her beautiful, but now I’ve felt her mind, and I’m not so sure.

Evangeline’s made one mistake, and that was telling me which room she’s in. She might have bought herself some escape time if she hadn’t tried to f*** my grey cells. I head straight for the room, and open it. I know I’m not going to get sprayed with bullets, so I don’t need to duck out of the way. Guns aren’t Evangeline’s style.

As I see Evangeline for the first time since Chicago, a small smile creeps across my lips. This is definitely more her style! Evangeline is reclining on a couch, facing the door. She’s wearing a smile, and nothing else. One arm is draped elegantly across her thigh, her fingers brushing the neatly trimmed mound of hair between her legs almost absent-mindedly.

“Hello my little Jaye-Bird. You look ravishing,” she drawls, her voice somewhere between a purr and a sigh.

I close the door to give us a little privacy. Despite everything she’s done, I can still appreciate how attractive she is, and she knows it.

“Evangeline.” I acknowledge her, my voice tight, clipped. I want to scream at her, to tear out her heart and eat it in front of her, but I know I’m not strong enough. Wren made that mistake, and if I make the same one, I doubt Evangeline will take the time to bury me.

She slowly sits up, moving languidly, making sure I get a good look between her legs before she stands up and starts to pull on her dressing gown. The arrogant bitch has the balls to turn her back to me as she fastens it up with a chord at her waist. “I must say, I’m impressed Jaye. You’ve been remarkably persistent in your pursuit of me these past seven months.”

“I had good motivation,” I tell her. “Did you really think I’d give up after a while. You killed my sister.”

Evangeline turns around to face me once more. She pulls her hair free from where it has gotten caught in her dressing gown, and it falls loosely around her porceline white face, and over her silk clad shoulders. Digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands, I manage to fight her as she tried to take me again.

Her lips quiver slightly, and her eyes widen just a little. “I simply gave her another lesson Jaye.” she says, and a little of the sensuality has gone from her voice. “Wren took something from me, and I could not allow her to do that.”

I step forward. My hands are balled into fists, and my finger nails are digging deep gouges in the flesh of my palms. The pain keeps me focussed. I can feel Evangeline, still fluttering against my mind, still trying to envelope me in her fantasy. I use her thoughts as a guide, flinging my anger at her in a solid wave of hatred.

Evangeline stumbles backwards, as though I’d physically pushed her. A gasp escapes her lips, and I know I’ve surprised her. She pulls back from my mind, and I feel her defenses go up. I won’t be able to do that again.

“You’ve grown strong Jaye, just as I knew you would.”

I laugh. “Don’t try it bitch. If you had thought I’d pose any kind of threat to you, you would have killed me like you did Wren.”

“She tried to kill me Jaye.” Evangeline shoots back. “What was I supposed to do?”

I smile, but I’m not amused. “You should have let her.” I tell Evangeline. “We loved you and you used us. If you had not made us Vampires...”

“Don’t you dare use that word.” she screams, cutting me off. Her hands ball into fists, and I feel her fury wash over me.

For just a moment, I’m a new born vampire once more, and my legs tremble, threatening to give way to the fear, but I fight it. I will never cower before her again. “Why not Evangeline. It’s what we are. I never understood why you hated the word so much.”

She snarls, and I catch an image from her mind. People on horseback, with drawn swords glinting in the moonlight ride past the bushes where Evangeline is hiding. Her simple dress is ragged and mud-stained, her hair is wild and littered with twigs and leaves, and I can feel her fear of these men, and her loathing for the ones who hired them to kill her.

Another image, this time of people, driving her from a village. They speak in a language I don’t understand, but somehow know is Hungarian. I’m in Evangeline’s past. She was taken by one of our kind, and he turned her. I cant see how she did it, but I know Evangeline killed him and returned to her village. But now of course, she had to feed. She crept into young girls beds, and drank from them when the blood flowed. She would never leave a mark this way. But Evangeline's secret was discovered. Found with one of them, her mouth coated in the girls blood, she could not hide the truth any longer. The villagers drove her from her home. They hurled rocks at her head and call her vámpír. They hired mercenaries to hunt her down and kill her.

I break the contact between us, and I’m laughing.”You’re nothing Evangeline. A pretty peasant who drank from innocent girls to keep your village from finding out that you were really a monster.”

Evangeline’s face contorts with rage and she flies at me. She closes the distance between us in the blink of an eye, but I react just in time. I catch hold of her wrists as she claws for my chest, desperately trying to tear my heart out. I know I’m not strong enough to hold her so I sweep her arms on past me as I step out of the way, and send her careening into a wall. For all her grace and beauty, she fights like a savage, purely instinctual. I send a prayer of thanks to my college judo instructor before Evangeline spins, and dives at me again. I bring my foot to her chest, falling backwards and using her momentum to send her flying over my head.

She’s more graceful than I thought though. In the air, she twists her body and lands on her feet, crouched down, one hand supporting her weight, the other held high, her fingers bent like claws once more. She snarls, her face monstrous now as her true nature is revealed.

Snarling back, I prepare to catch her as she springs for me, but she surprises me again with her agility as she brings her legs forward and kicks me solidly in the solar plexus, driving me to the ground and riding me down like a surf board.

She holds me to the ground, her hands round my wrists like a pair of flesh covered vices, her strong knees pinning my hips. “You should have come to me Jaye.” she snarls around her enlarged canines. “We could have loved each other forever.”

“I don’t know how I could ever have loved a foul, ugly, souless bitch of a vampire like you.” I spit at her. If these are going to be my last words, I really want to get the insults in. “Do it, you whore!” I scream at her.

Evangeline smiles, and her face is once more the beautiful mask she wears to hide her true self. The effect would fascinate me, if I wasn’t about to die. “I’m going to rip your heart out, impudent child.” she tells me sweetly, her face inches from mine, her voice that soft purr once more. “And once I do, you’ll join your sister in hell.”

“If you say so.” I shoot back, and bring my forehead up sharply, aiming her delicate nose. I catch it off a little and the main force of my attack hits her in the cheek. Blood splatteres my face, and I feel her let go of my hands as she sits up, screaming in agony and clutching the bloody mass of her broken nose and cheekbone. It’s the only chance I’m going to get. Summoning all my strength, I drive my left hand at her chest where it’s framed by the V of her night gown. Flesh rips as I claw it away and bone cracks as I tear away her sternum. Her heart beats in rapid rhythm inches above me. I reach for it, and feel the slick muscle between my fingers as the sudden weight of Evangeline's hands thud solidly against my forearms, driving them down away from her chest.

I scream in agony as I feel the radius and ulna of both arms give way, snapping under the force of her blow. My arms fall uselessly to my sides and I close my eyes, waiting for Evangeline's final blow. As I feel her move forward, I cry out Wrens name one last time.

Evangeline lands heavily on me, and she does not move. I lie there, gasping in pain, afraid to open my eyes. Finally, I pluck up the courage to do so, and all I see is a mass of Evangeline’s hair. Twisting my hips, I manage to roll her off me and gasp in pain as her lifeless corpse rolls over one of my broken arms. Lifting my head up, I look at my other hand, and realise for the first time that my fingers are curled around one torn and bloody half of Evangeline’s heart.

**************

The night is wonderfully calm as I stand before the lilac bush. Kneeling, I place a bouquet of roses on the ground, a tear sliding down my cheek.

“Hello Wren.” I begin. “Evangeline’s dead. I killed her for you, and fed her heart to a dog. Story of our lives huh, one bitch eating another! I hope that gave you a good laugh, wherever you are.”

Reaching into my jacket, I pull a zippered plastic bag free and set it down on the ground next to me. “I have something for you Wren. Evangeline had it in a box in that hotel room.” I begin to dig, using my hands, and soon, I reach the plastic covered remains of my sister. I tear the plastic open, just above the hole in her chest, and I’m surprised to see she hasn’t rotted. Perhaps the plastic has kept her preserved. Then again, I muse, as I pull her whole and complete heart from the bag, this looks fine too, so why shouldn’t her body. With utmost reverence, I place her heart in the hole of her chest.

“There you go Wren. Now you’re complete.” I tell her. I’m just about to re-cover her with the plastic when I realise she’s not complete. She never will be, just as I am not complete any more. We were twins. Without one another. neither of us would ever be whole again. I bring my muddy finger to my mouth, and graze it on one of my sharp canines, allowing a drop of blood to fall on her heart. “That’ll have to tide you over till I make it to heaven Wren. A bit of me to stay with you till I die. See you soon.”

I cover her once more, and fill in the hole in the mud. Standing, I turn, and slowly walk away.
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Zachariah

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Post February 6th, 2007, 4:06 am

Epilogue



I’m sitting in the living room of a familiar apartment. The Realtor was only too happy to let me see it at night. I think he's so desperate to sell this place he'd have shown it to me wearing a clown suit if I'd asked him. No one wants to buy this place. Everyone knows its history, and so do I. A little girl and her mother were killed in this house, but unlike the Realtor, and the rest of the folks around here, I know the true history, and not the pale reflection of it reported on the state news channel.

In the kitchen, a mop handle was driven through the chest of the girls mother. A foot from where I sit, two vampires, Evangeline and her dark child Wren, tore the little girl almost in half. Wren had come to kill her mistress in an effort to secure freedom for herself and her sister Jaye. She did not succeed.

The two vampires fought, and eventually, Evangeline won, tearing out Wren's heart and killing her.

I rub at my chest, and feel the bone of my sternum solid and whole beneath the skin reassuring myself that my heart beats under it. I grimace. Not a pleasant way to go.

And I would know.

Someone put my heart back in my chest and gave me blood. It could only have been my sister. I don’t know how long I’ve been gone, or when she returned my heart to me. I only remember waking in the dark with plastic wrapped around me. I clawed my way out of the earth, but Jaye wasn't there.

I’m going to find her.

Jaye. Wherever you are, wait for me. I’m coming home.




*Note from the author...this is the last part of Hunting Evangeline...untill I write the planned prequel and sequel that is...If you have enjoyed Hunting evangeline, don't hesitate to comment in the comments box provided.

Zack
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"Frustration is understandable.
Anger is unacceptable."

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