The wind blew softly against the darkened windows. One remained, toiling away in an effort to prove something. It was a long day; they always were. But it was worth it. With every passing month, Pokle knew that her nest egg only grew. A vital component in the family she so craved, and the only one easily within her grasp. Though life was fickle, a single, glowing exclamation point always guided her to the one source of true stability. It gave her a home, and it gave her a functioning family, even if it was not the one of her dreams.
And so she persisted, working into the late hours at her desk, balancing books, updating schedules, planning for the future. More and more had made its way onto her desk in recent times, and she knew it was not Dennis being lazy. At least, not entirely. Deep down, she felt it was a test. Without a word uttered to her, he had posed a most pivotal question.
Can you do it? Can you weather the storm on your own two legs?
Yes, yes I can, Pokle repeated to herself.
Papers slid by, her eyelids begging to droop, though she refused them outright. There always was just… one… more… page. Her head nodded forward abruptly, forcing her to shake it. With a sigh, Pokle brushed back a lock of her sunny golden hair and conceded that she too needed rest. She set her desk straight, then stood from her chair.
And when her eyes rose, she saw the latest face in the house of Golden Point. That pale complexion, perfect skin, shining brown hair, and those cold, empty blue eyes. Pokle jumped.
“AHH! What are you doing here, Matti? How did you get in?”
Matti raised her arm with calculated grace. “I came here… to speak with you about something.”
Pokle lowered her defensive stance, subtly reaching for her waistline and pretending it was to put her hands on her belt, rather than the knife in her pocket. Her heart began to race.
“It’s… a bit late. You really shouldn’t be back here unaccompanied, especially at this hour,” she explained in a cautious tone.
A little smile sprung up on the intruder’s face, betraying an air of superiority. “But it is such a private matter. Something best not overheard or spread.”
A pit formed in Pokle’s stomach as her hand slowly crept closer to the hilt of the blade. “I… see. Well, I’m not much of a confidante. We barely even know each other.”
The smile vanished. Matti took a small step forward, narrowing the gap between them. “Oh, on the contrary. While I know little about you, I believe you know plenty about me.”
As one crept forward, another retreated, swiftly spending every inch between herself and the wall. Matti continued, her tone growing menacing.
“You are subtle in the ways that normally count. It has served you well for the average folk. But you cannot help it. Every time you see me, your heart quickens, your blood runs cold… you reek of fear.” The gap had all but gone as Matti backed her against the wall. “You remembered my name. You went and stuck your nose where it does not belong, and I know what you saw. I find that… concerning.”
Pokle drew her knife with haste and raised it. “Stay b–”
In a blur, one hand slammed her wrist against the wall, knocking the knife free. Simultaneously, a forearm slipped under her chin and pinned her in place. Matti’s glowing-red eyes came into focus, supplanting all else. They had a luster to them, like they were the only thing Pokle could see. The world began to slowly spin as her body relaxed and ceased all resistance. The pressure against her neck and hand reduced, but when she tried to escape in response, her body did nothing.
“Good. Now, Pokle, I want you to understand something.” Matti’s face disappeared from view as she moved to whisper in Pokle’s ear. “I very much enjoy what I have with Dennis, it is relaxing, freeing, even. I am eager to see where it could lead. However, the peace I have found myself in is predicated on my secrets being kept. If I were to be discovered… well, I would put my survival over Dennis’ best interests, wellbeing, and safety, let alone yours. Now, who have you told?”
“N– nobody.”
The eyes came into view again, boring holes into Pokle’s mind. “Is that so? Not a word spoken to a soul? Not a letter drafted? Not a single note left in contingency?”
“Th– there’s nothing, I swear… not one word.”
Matti smiled, earnestly, dangerously. “Good, good,” she cooed, laying a soft kiss on Pokle’s cheek. “You will tell no one. If you have concerns, you will bring them to me, or to Dennis. You will safeguard my secrets with all you have. Else… Dennis would surely hate to lose his star employee.”
The arm against Pokle’s neck slid right, allowing the hand to grasp her chin and turn her head aside. Matti leaned in close, brushing sharp fangs against Pokle’s soft neck and dragging a cold tongue upward in a show of dominance. She whimpered in fear as her hands quaked.
But then… it stopped.
There was… hesitation. The hypnosis faded and Pokle regained enough control to look. She turned her head, only to have it pressed against the wall once more.
“No… that can’t be right,” Matti murmured.
The lick returned, more forceful, probing the neck. The hand securing her wrist relinquished its grasp, only to pull the skin taut for inspection.
The fear returned, crashing over Pokle and sending her tumbling into panic. “What do you want with me? I won’t tell anyone, I swear! Let me go!”
Matti withdrew suddenly and grasped Pokle’s chin. Their eyes met again, and though she tried to fight it, she could not.
“Calm… calm,” the vampire whispered in a dark, musical tone. “I know you will tell none, but something new has piqued my interest. For there are two… little… scars. Hidden so well that any mere mortal would never find them. But to one such as I? They are so… deeply… familiar.”
Matti leaned in close, the swirling feeling emanating from her eyes once more. “You will go home and attempt to calm yourself. And when I come to knock… you will invite me inside.”
……
A bead of cold sweat dripped down Pokle’s calf. When did I get here? she wondered. It was home. Her table, her favorite clay mug, filled with her favorite tea. It’s late, why am I drinking this? posed her mind. On instinct, she raised the cup to her lips. It had gone cold. How long… have I been here?
It was all wrong. Her eyes wandered to the stove, devoid of embers. The pot was hanging up where she left it. Did I… make tea with cold water? What is going on?
As she grasped at answers to her questions, a knock fell on the door. Before it even registered in her mind, she had stood bolt upright and turned to answer it. Who could it be at this hour? she asked herself. But as she stepped, her heart began to race. No, no this is wrong. It’s HER, NO, STOP! Her right hand reached for the latch, her left moved to grasp the uncooperative limb.
She fought it, fought herself, but not. Her body acted in another’s stead, and she rejected it with all she could. But it was not enough. With every moment, her movements slowed but never stopped. Inches from the door, she reached closer and closer to darkness, but the seed of control fought back, and she grasped the cold steel. With each degree it turned, she felt the impending doom draw closer. And then, with a clunk, the door opened.
In that dark, moonless night, stood Mattirina. Silent, waiting. Pokle felt herself inhale involuntarily, and immediately she knew. Her obedient hand shot up to cover her mouth, and the traitorous one seized it en route.
“Well? Don’t you have something to say?” the vampire asked with supreme confidence.
“P– p– p…” Pokle gritted her teeth as her jaw quivered. “P– please… c– come in.”
It was like an iron grip lifted from her entire body, only to be supplanted by a torrent of fear as Matti stepped in. The menacing form approached her, wearing a subtle smirk.
“You see? That wasn’t so hard,” she cooed smugly.
Rage built up in Pokle, an indignance mixing with her fight-or-flight. “Fuck… you,” she mustered quietly.
Matti raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. Her eyes went red again. “Go sit on your bed.”
And at that exact moment, Pokle understood just how gently she had been treated before. The memories of her office vaguely swirled in her mind. She could fight, then, even if she did lose. But now? Her eyes were like long pinholes, through which she could only watch as her body cooperated instantly, and precisely.
They sat on her bed, and Matti wore a strangely dignified expression. “Now, I will be direct with you. A vampire has fed upon you. It is semi-recent, within a few months perhaps. The scars on your neck are as subtle as they are unmistakable. So tell me, when do you think it may have happened?”
The mental bindings loosened, and Pokle was thrust into partial control once more. Confusion reigned supreme as she tried to comprehend what was happening. “Wh– what? What do you mean? I’ve never… had anything like that happen.”
Matti leaned over. “Of course you do not remember the incident itself. Be it a trail of corpses or witnesses, it matters not; the result of complacency is a dead or chased vampire. But were you assaulted, accosted and lost consciousness? Is there a gap in your memory where you felt awful shortly thereafter?” She produced a case and pulled a little cloth and needle from it. “Think on it for me. There is always something.”
While Pokle felt the desire to recall this event actively forced on her, she did not fight it. A modicum of genuine curiosity had appeared. She thought and thought, cutting through the dense fog of fear, panic, and hypnotic disruption. She thought through the wiping of the cloth against her neck, and the prick of the needle. And then, it struck her.
“I… I was mugged. It was 6 weeks ago. I was on my way home. They knocked me out in a punch to the nose. When I woke, my money was gone. I had lost blood, but… that was because of my nose, wasn’t it? They'd broken it. There was a puddle when I woke up…”
Matti inserted the needle into a little glass ball. “A broken nose, yes. That is a classic cover. You never know how long you were unconscious, nor how much of your blood seeped away into the ground.” The orb turned red, then purple, then black, causing a hungry look to cross Matti’s visage. “But it was no mugging, and you were not punched. At least, not first. A memory was planted in your mind, burying the truth. But how well, I wonder?”
A hand turned Pokle’s head, forcing her gaze once more into the swirling red eyes. “Show me, Pokle. Show me that night. Show me my prey.”
Again the tide moved, and again, Pokle elected to follow it. That night, that terrible night. So vividly she remembered the flinch, the tiniest action taken in self-preservation as she failed to dodge the fist careening toward her head. She had relived it a thousand times, and yet… this time was different. The mere memory made her skin crawl; something was wrong.
The process was mysterious, alien, even, but another consciousness had bored its way into her mind, and it too knew the falsity. But it did not simply observe, it attacked. It tore into the image, revealing it to be as paper. And behind that loomed a face. A face with hungry eyes, and terrible fangs. His hair long, his beard short. And then, Pokle blinked. She was staring into Matti’s own ruby eyes.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“Good. A face is all I need. Thank you, Pokle,” she uttered softly. Then the glow returned, the swirling, all of it. “Sleep now, o quaking sheep. This wolf goes to prowl… on your behalf.”
…
A limp form plopped onto the bed. Matti cocked her head at the completeness of Pokle’s sleep. It normally took much longer. Poor girl must have been very tired, she surmised. Her feelings on Pokle were… mixed. On the one hand, she was a diligent worker, and valued friend to Dennis. Polite, capable, caring. On the other hand, she was a snoop and had found a very sensitive little detail. One that could not simply be removed, not after having so long to root in her psyche.
Matti glanced once more at the sleeping young woman. With a sigh, she decided that the situation was sufficiently handled for the moment. She rose, then straightened Pokle on her bed and pulled a blanket over the girl. After a cursory sniff of the home, Matti determined it was devoid of threats and would not burn down in her absence; so she locked the door and turned to mist, seeping out the keyhole and reforming in a deserted alley nearby.
The dim, dark tones of the moonless night kissed her pale skin, enlivening her senses and setting her instincts ablaze for the hunt. With a deep breath, she murmured to herself a statement, an affirmation of what she would soon accomplish unquestionably.
“Wolf goes to prowl… yes, I have a dog to put down.”
……
A moonless sky,
a dark joy for you.
In this we share,
the thrill of the emptiness.
But a joy not matching.
You revel in the hunt once more.
I salivate, I crave, knowing what you do not.
A hunter is being hunted.
So long it had been since Matti felt the formless freedom of mist for hours on end. It was a comfort, a sense of liberation, and it needed to be fought. For to give in was to dissipate into the skies, never again to reform. But on this night, her focus was a razor’s edge, for there was prey in her territory, and it was time to stake her claim. It was the perfect night for a hunt; so little light that the living were nearly blind, a softly howling wind to obscure the hopeless cries of the doomed. No creature of the night could resist. It is why she chose to confront Pokle, and it is why she knew the dog would be on the prowl.
The blackened moon was on high, casting its pitiful lack of light on a thousand alleyways. Each she searched, then moved on. Her mind turned to routes, hiding places, dens, and even where the grave would be. She almost pitied them, having to return to the earth with such frequency. Almost. Sympathy was reserved for ones less… appetizing.
She reformed on a roof, feeling the weight of corporeality tug on her after so long suspended in weightlessness. A moment to sniff the air, plucking strands of scent from it, searching for blood. There was none, only sex, excrement, and bread, like any other city. And so, once more, she turned to mist and moved on.
It was an endeavor of hours, but she did not tire, for the feeding awaiting her at the end only grew sweeter with each minute it eluded her. Half the town she checked, finding little. Soon, she found herself drawn to the obnoxious stench of sex, emanating from a brothel airing itself out with open windows as it closed for the night. She watched from a rooftop as the ladies went their separate ways, allowing her mind to wander a moment.
Brunettes, ravens, a redhead, and even a perky little blonde thing. They were all quite cute. The sort of girls she dreamed about stuffing a kingly bed with and fooling around debaucherously for hours, sipping a little blood from whoever, whenever. A fantasy that would have to go unfulfilled for a while. She eyed the blonde. You remind me of Pokle… I wonder if he has a type? With a sly raise of the eyebrow, Matti decided that she had found her bait.
Thus, as the sun rose, 2 shadows returned to their sanctuaries. The first, sated, and ready to rest, the second hungrier still, poring over a map of town, taking notes, plotting. All the while, Pokle rose with the morning sun, not entirely sure how much of the night before had been a dream.
……
Alone, they always walked alone. The Lands of Light breed such complacency, Matti groaned inwardly. Although it was most convenient, it still irked her. As the courtesan stepped homeward, blissfully unaware of her surroundings, a dark form coalesced just out of sight. In a swift, graceful motion, Matti swooped over and dragged her out of sight from an oncoming guard. She placed a hand on the woman’s mouth and stared deeply into her eyes, and beyond.
“Would you please help me with something important?” she asked, uncovering the mouth.
“Yes, my lady.”
……
Mortals never could handle Blackland Reserve. One sip and they could hardly stand, slurring every word. It merely buzzed Matti, but that night, it was perfect. The woman reeked of sex and brandy, stumbling through a dingy, poorly guarded corner of town, smelling of the grimy waterways. Even the common men preyed on her, one attempting to mug the lady. A simply psychic command to her thrall and the would-be attacker was struck in the nose, sending him scurrying for the shadows. It was almost a cruel imitation, a parody of the dog she hunted that night.
It was a matter of mathematics. Population density, wealth, distance from guardhouses, acoustics of the alleyways. The theorem had taken more than a month to study, but it had spat out a 73% chance of attracting a vampire to that locale, far higher than the other districts. And further still, she narrowed it down. A daytime visit served to single out each detail. She had observed it like it was her own hunting ground, plotting where was best to strike, where to take prey to feed safely, and how to escape, should things go awry. This narrowed things ever further.
8 places, an octet of locations from which she would be willing to prey on passers by. Of course, a lesser being would surely accept worse circumstances, but if she deigned them acceptable, they would surely have been his favorites. And what wonderful bait she had found. A most salaciously curvy blonde, with the right attire not to stick out, and so thoroughly boozed that anyone would believe her hopelessly lost at a glance, and a smell of her breath. It was a careful balancing act, keeping her away from human threats, slowing down or speeding up to evade those with intentions too far from indifference.
A pang of hunger struck Matti. Joyous as the hunt was, the experience was marred by its impromptu nature. It would have been nice to plot away on a full belly, to stalk the city with a clear mind. It led her focus astray, nearly routing the courtesan into some goody-two-shoed fellow who would likely escort the woman home.
It was near the end of the route she'd planned, passing most of the spots as believable as possible. Matti's mind began to wander again as she pondered the value of warming up a bottle of preserves to refresh herself. In her mental wanderings, she almost missed the little jolt coming through the psychic connection to her bait. But it set her alight, initially with rage. Who dares meddle?
The sunny-headed woman had gone from view, leaving Matti to follow the psychic link directly. After so many human interruptions, she expected it to be the same. However, as she drifted down, above the man dragging the bait off into an alley, hand covering her mouth, Matti paused.
His hair was long and dark, his beard short. And there was a hunger in his eyes. There was a bite on the hook.
She was so close, but her plan was destroyed by an inconvenient fact: His back was to the wall. A more brazen approach was required if she wished to prevent the bite, and she did; the addition of fresh blood diluted that lovely gamey flavor. Thus, she coalesced with confidence, right in front of them.
Instantly, he froze. His fangs bared, ready to strike into the warm flesh of the courtesan. And yet his hunger was forgotten. A mouse does not care for its next meal when it stares into the eyes of a swooping owl. He dropped his meal and bolted, but his boon of a back against a wall came at the cost of cornering himself. Such confidence, such reliance on a status quo. And when it broke, he was not ready.
Three paces he fled, three final steps before the predator at his heel placed a spike of oak through his heart. His body froze under the assault of life and earth that was wood. He could only watch as a dark young lass rolled him onto his back and straddled his chest with a sickeningly gleeful smile, and fangs far sharper than his own.
As she leaned forward, narrowing in on his neck, Matti found herself reciting vampire poetry. “Pity upon those who take only the pig. They know the fullness of flesh, not the thrill of chase. A dark boar for me, the ultimate prize. A razor’s edge dividing continuance and the end. Kill to live, live to die. You are mine, as I could have been yours,” she finished, by the end, whispering into his hear.
With her gloating complete, it was time to dine. And dine she did. Matti sunk her fangs into his neck and began to drink. A flood of ruin, disease, and toxins flowed forth, setting her body alight as all was assailed, purified. It was enlivening, invigorating, filling! Empowering! She felt his strength flow into her drop-by-drop! His dark power becoming hers by the moment. His every memory slipped through her consciousness. Each like a portrait, offering for her to pluck at souvenirs before they were thrown onto an uncaring flame.
She cared not for his plight, but there was one sick little desire he could fulfill. How did little Pokle taste? He knew, and soon, so did she. "Mmm," she moaned, pleased by the stolen memory, experiencing the brief euphoria of 2 feedings simultaneously. What a shame that Pokle was so well protected.
Every face, every feeding, she felt their memories flow into her mind. The ecstasy of every last drop of blood he ever imbibed coursed through Matti’s very soul. And with the last drop passing her lips, she released her bite and flung her head skyward, arching her back rearward and spreading her clawed hands wide. Were it the Lands of Darkness, she would have howled in victory.
Alas, it was not.
The rush passed, and she allowed herself a moment to breathe and focus. She glanced down and saw he was naught but a shriveled husk. She rose from the corpse and brushed her legs off, then turned to her lure. The woman was sitting, a blank expression on her face. Matti crouched by her side and stroked her cheek.
“You have done so well for me tonight, my dear. Why don’t we find a nice fellow to help you home?”
Her blank expression showed a glint of happiness. “Yes, my lady.”
At that, the bait rose and Matti grasped her shoulders from behind. “Do me a favor and forget about tonight, my dear. You were out drinking late into the morning hours, and such excessive things always rob us of our memories.” Matti laid a kiss on her neck and sent her along with a playful spank and a chuckle.
Alone with the remains of her kill, she straddled the form once more and made to claim her prize. 4 fangs, fresh from their former owner. A dip in the right brews and they would gain a polished shine, even in the sun. Trophy in hand, she dumped the body where it belonged; in the street to be seen by anyone who cared. It would be dust by morning, and if nobody found it, that would make an excellent gauge of complacency.
And so she vanished into mist once more, victorious, satisfied, slaked.
……
The early morning sun beat down. Its oppressive rays made Matti tired, driving her inside, or at least for shade. But she persisted on foot, like the commoners around her. The sun was the great equalizer, reducing her to the talents and discomforts of a mortal. That is why she kept such lethal armaments within her cloak. There was but one thing to do before she could hide away in Dennis’ abode. One little errand before she could rest.
A familiar door approached. She stepped onto the front deck and knocked.
The delay was long, the moments passing like the molasses she smelled in the nearby confectionery. Only after it became awkward did an answer seep through the door.
“Who is it?”
“Matti. May I come in?”
“NO!”
She grinned. “I think that shows that you are yourself again. I have come with a peace offering.”
There was a pause before Pokle responded. “What is it?” she inquired, frustrated.
“A token. If you care not to face me, I can pass it through the door.”
Another pause came and went before the lock was undone and the door cracked slightly open. Pokle was unseen, wisely if overcautiously avoiding eye contact. Unfazed, Matti stuck her hand through the opening and dropped the gift into Pokle’s.
“This is…” she trailed off. “Are these… his?”
“Indeed they are. Never again will he prey on the denizens of this burg.”
Pokle returned the necklace of fangs. “Umm… thank you, but please take this away. I’m still reeling from the night before last and I don’t want any reminders.”
Matti accepted it. “Very well, I shall remove them from sight. Now, concerning our… recent interactions. How about we let sleeping dogs lie until Dennis returns. It really is something that concerns him.”
“Yes, please. I won’t tell a soul, just… stay away from me until he gets back… and keep staying away after that.”
She chuckled. “As you wish. Have a nice day, my sunny, daywalking friend.”
“I’m not your friend, fuck off.”
……
Dennis munched his cereal and milk with a miffed expression. “You could’ve just… talked to her like a rational adult…”
“I… did? We had a rational, adult conversation.”
He cradled his head by the temple. “Okayyy… I guess that’s how you were raised and all, but generally a rational conversation involves no threats of any kind, or the use of hypnosis to force your perspective on other people.”
She turned her nose up snootily. “She had acquired sensitive information, and that method sounds terribly inefficient.”
“Look, Matti, I appreciate that it’s a bombshell, and that you have every right to protect yourself from the spread of information that could get you hunted down. At the same time, I really don’t appreciate when someone—especially a former client—harrasses, assaults, and… well, violates my employees. I pay them to put up with a lot of crap, but not that.”
Matti lowered her head, grasping his points rather fast. “I do… believe I understand your point.”
He took a swig of apple juice, stamping the cup down with purpose. “Good. I’m going to do you a favor and reserve judgment until after I hear how genuine your apology to Pokle is.”
Her head rolled back, as her eyes alone were insufficient rolling energy. “UGH. Do I have to?”
“Yeah… you did a crime on my right-hand-woman. I think we’ll have her over for dinner, and socialize for an hour or two as well. You can tell her about yourself and open up about some insecurities or whatever. All you have to do is treat her as an equal for that time, and hopefully in perpetuity.”
She pouted cutely, leaning her elbows on the table. “Sometimes I miss when I just told everyone and everything exactly what to do,” she sighed.
Dennis finished chugging the remaining milk in the bowl. “Buy yourself another evil lair and some minions, then.”
“Would you follow me there?”
“Nope. Multi-decade CEO career… or multi-week relationship with low-single-digit dates? We’re both smart here.”
She smiled, despite a small mix of emotions clashing on her face. “I suppose I cannot have my cake and eat it too.”
“A real shame, it’d be quite a world if everyone always got their way.” He looked up for a moment. “Speaking of eating stuff, I think I know what to make. Do you want to wash the dishes, or write the shopping list?”
“My, my, quick to business as usual once more, are we?”
He stood from his chair. “No answer means you’re volunteering for the dishes.”
“Hold on, I’ll get my quill,” she quickly replied.