shadows and stones - an original fiction series of gothic, horror, dark fantasy

Hand written on a torn piece of brown paper, the invitation was simple: In front of The Club, 10:30 tomorrow. Romany stuffed it into the waistband of her leather miniskirt before casting a final glance in the mirror. Tonight, she was going out in full makeup: shocking white base color, black eyeliner, dark blue eye shadow rising to merge with painted black eyebrows. A touch of blood red lipstick, and a single black teardrop on her right cheek completed the look. With a little more spray to hold her black hair spiked in place, Romany was ready to party.

As she descended the stairs, a silver chain hanging from the ring in her left ear to a ring in the side of her nose jingled lightly in time with her stride. No one in the crowded flat heard the slight sound, or noticed as Romany slipped out the door; not that they would have cared if they had. Her father lay comatose in his chair, mesmerized by the endless drone of the television, while her younger siblings fought over who had succeeded getting more jam.

“Good riddance to them all,” Romany thought, jogging to the nearest Underground station. The time was already 9:40, she didn’t have long to reach The Club.

Julian, a blonde Adonis in chains and leather, and Mala, pirate clothes accentuating her ebony skin, were waiting on the curb by The Club when Romany ran up in her stiletto heeled boots. Each of them held an identical piece of torn brown paper: a special invitation only a select few received each month – and none ever spoke of. Romany had always believed the invitations were a myth, until an unseen hand slipped one into her bustier, and the hands of her friends, the previous night.

“Scrumptious top, darling,” Julian said, pulling Romany close and kissing her deeply.

Romany tweaked the fishhook piercing his nose, laughing at his howl of pain. “You ask for it, Jules, or you wouldn’t wear that thing.” Avoiding his grab for her own nose ring, she backed a few steps away, spinning to show off the admired top and sending the charms sewn to its ragged edge swinging. “Da wouldn’t give me brass for a new one, so I made it out of old fishnet tights.” The snug webbing accentuated Romany’s pale skin, particularly as she wore nothing beneath.

Mala tweaked one bright pink nipple where it peeked between the netting, her ebony fingers warm and soft. Laughter shook Romany again as she in turn rubbed her friend’s shaven head, admiring the patterns painted there. A cluster of matronly women, clearly out of place in The Club neighborhood wearing their flowered hats and shawls, hurried past the young people, muttering ominously about shocking behavior.

“They’ll have no good end,” Romany heard one oldster mutter.

“Better a bad end than your face,” she shouted at their retreating backs. Julian and Mala chortled in approval.

At precisely 10:30, a long, black car slid to a halt by the curb. One tinted window lowered smoothly, and from it a young man extended his hand. Eagerly, Romany pulled the invitation from her waistband, presenting it to him. With a cursory glance, the young man verified it’s authenticity, then gestured for her to enter the car. Julian and Mala quickly followed after their invitations were taken and checked, filling the back seat to capacity. Mala ran her fingers through Julian’s disheveled hair, while Romany traced invisible patterns on his crotch with a light touch of her nails, both women taking advantage of his position between them.

Accelerating, the car moved back out into the London streets, maneuvering smoothly through the traffic to yet another club district. Three more young people stood by a curb, waiting. Making room for the new arrivals, Romany lifted herself, allowing Julian to slide beneath her. Settling on his lap, Romany wriggled seductively before leaning back into his arms. Mala, meanwhile, moved to the center and gave lap space to a girl with long, neon green hair. The final two, solemn teens in gothic regalia, packed themselves in the remaining empty spot.

In the front seat, the young man nodded to the driver. The car sped forward into the night, leaving London behind as it traveled to the party’s secret location. Romany, Mala and the green haired girl flirted, fondling one another with eager hands, while Julian gave encouragement and assistance as it was wanted. The goth couple shared a joint, uninterested in the sexual pastimes of their companions. None of the young people paid attention to the passage of time; the party would be waiting for them when they got there. In the meantime, pleasure was to be sought wherever it could be had.

Eventually, far from the lights and humanity of London, the car slowed, turning onto a disused side road. Twenty minutes of bumpy road later, the vehicle stopped. Romany trembled in anticipation, fumbling at the door handle. Eagerly, she spilled out into the night, followed closely by Julian and the others. Before them lay the ruins of what may have been an old castle, or what may have been an old church. Regardless of the structure’s past purpose, nothing more than crumbling stone walls and doorways remained. Romany trembled again; it was perfect, better than she had ever imagined.

Light from the clear moon danced across the ruins like beckoning fingers. Chill night air flowed around Romany’s body like a sensuous caress. When music drifted towards her and the others from some unseen source, she reacted to its call, drifting to a clear patch of earth and beginning to dance. Partnerless, Romany let the sounds flow through her, her body moving instinctively to the beat.

Julian, Mala, and the others, meanwhile, responded to a whisper of voices from within the ruins, running to join what they believed to be the main party. Oblivious to their departure, Romany remained, performing her solitary dance in the moonlight. Only when one spike heel caught in a patch of twisted grass, nearly tripping her, did she pause, carefully removing both boots. For twenty minutes, for an hour, for half of the evening she remained alone, dancing barefoot among the stones.

Once, as she swayed to a slow, quiet piece of music, Romany thought she heard moans and soft cries of anguish from the ruins beyond. Pausing, she moved a few steps to investigate, then a new tune began, loud and raucous, driving every other sound away. The call of the music was stronger than her concern, sending her dancing once more. Besides, she thought, on a beautiful night, with beautiful people sex was bound to happen, and it was seldom silent.

It took the touch of a man’s hand on her bare thigh to bring Romany back from the sensations of her dance. Annoyed, she glared at the intruder.

Distinctly average in appearance and dress, even the smile he made in response to her look was nothing to remark upon. Had they met in the street, or stood beside one another in the Underground, Romany would never have noticed this man at all.

Continuing to glare, she waited for him to explain his unwelcome advance.

Having brought himself to her attention and her dancing to an end, the man moved confidently to her side, resting one hand on her leather clad hip and the other on the nape of her neck. Despite his lack of physical attractiveness, the proximity of the man’s body to hers sent electric charges through Romany. She found herself suddenly wanting him, without knowing why.

As his hand stroked her side, ending in a firm grip upon her waist, Romany arched her spine, exposing her throat and breast to him. Accepting the offering, he pressed hungry lips against the skin of her chest. Where his mouth touched, the flesh seemed to burn, as though this man had sat too close to a fire, absorbing its warmth, only to release it through his kiss. The heat inflamed every nerve in her body and left her wanting more.

Hooking her leg behind his, Romany sought to bring the man down onto the grass so they could consummate the passion he aroused in her. Stronger than he seemed, he resisted her pull, and she succeeded only in tearing open his shirt to expose smooth alabaster skin. Urgently, she changed tactics, pressing forward, trying to insert her leg between his.

“I want all of you,” she murmured, running her tongue from his navel to his neck.

“Not yet, hungry one,” he responded, laughing softly in her ear. As Romany worked her mouth insistently on his skin, she heard him whisper, “All that I hoped for, and more…”

Then, from the dark ruins, drowning the music, a scream of intense agony arose, holding the apex of its volume for several seconds before abruptly ending.

Romany’s passion washed away as though icy water had been poured onto her soul. She knew who had uttered the scream. Pulling away from the man, she leapt across the rock strewn ground, running into the heart of the ruins. What she saw stopped her cold.

Julian hung in the embrace of a pale blonde woman. She supported him from behind, her seemingly fragile arms clasped tightly about his chest, her mouth buried at the back of his neck. Two narrow rivulets of blood trickled from where her lips made contact, to where her hands blocked the red stream’s progress down his body. The blood pooled a little before dripping over her wrists to the ground below. Meanwhile, eyes wide, pupils contracted in fear and pain, Julian stretched his arms towards Romany, wordlessly begging for help.

Moving to aid him, Romany managed only one step forward, falling hard to the ground. Looking back to find the cause of her fall, she discovered the green haired girl’s body, twisted like a rag doll, on a pile of fallen stones. The girl’s hazel eyes stared blankly into the night out of a face frozen in a final look of fear. Multiple pairs of puncture marks ringed her neck and shoulders. The girl’s bare leg, jutting sharply into the air, had tripped Romany. Tentatively she touched the foot – it was still warm.

Frantically, Romany backed away from the corpse, scraping her hands and feet on stones hidden in the grass. A moan from Julian reminded Romany of his plight. Tearing her gaze from the lifeless eyes, she rose, starting towards her friend; then the vise–like grip of a hand on her arm stopped her short. Enraged, she turned. The man she had been seducing only moments earlier held her, preventing her from going to Julian’s aid. Kicking towards his groin and clawing at his face, she fought to break loose. He easily caught her free arm, pinning both hands behind her back as he turned her to face Julian.

“It is already too late. Once Zaria begins, there is no turning back. Besides, your friend accepted willingly, he is not being forced. They all panic at first – it will pass.”

“And did it ’pass’ for her?” Romany shouted, gesturing to the twisted corpse.

His head shook. “No. She was willing, but weak. Sometimes a being cannot bear the weight of our gift. We do not believe in waste, however; she fed us well.” Romany’s heart pounded at the casualness of his tone when he spoke of death. Searching the dark ruins with frantic eyes she sought any glimpse of the other three, Mala and the goth pair, but no sign or sound of them reached her. Wishing she had not removed the stiletto heeled boots, Romany fought to free herself from the man’s grip, kicking backwards and stomping on his feet. He only laughed at her efforts.

“Where’s Mala?”

“Hmmm, the beautiful black woman? Such a pity. She and the other two declined our offer. They are being returned to London. A pity the dark one did not accept, she would have made an exquisite vampire.”

Romany shuddered at the final word. Vampire. She had always thought vampires were just a game played by some of the more extreme club goers. But the icy hands of the man who held her, and the puncture marks on the dead girl implied they were only too real. Then an animalistic moan caused her to look at Julian and Zaria again.

Eyes closed, Julian’s head rested on Zaria’s shoulder now, allowing her complete access to his throat. Romany trembled as she watched the woman’s tongue stroke the skin around the bite wound, licking away the trickles of blood. No longer outstretched, Julian’s hands slipped down to clutch his captor’s bare legs. Excitement rocketed through Romany as she drank in the sight of the crotch of his leather pants strained to bursting with his erection, as he responded with passion to the woman’s mouth at his neck.

A soft exhalation of breath against her ear pulled Romany back to her own situation. This time, when the man’s mouth pressed against her shoulder, there was no warmth. Instead, Romany felt the prick of needle–like canines scraping along her skin. She tensed, waiting for the penetration of teeth, but they never came. His tongue traced the line of her collarbone as he laughed softly. Poking through the gaps of the fishnet top, her nipples tightened in response to the sensuous touch. Releasing one of her arms, the man reached around, tweaking one taut nipple. Just as Mala had earlier that night, in front of The Club.

“You let them go?” With an effort Romany returned her thoughts to those who were missing.

“Of course. Oh, they donated a little blood to our cause,” she could almost hear the smile in his tones, “A bite which does not kill, and does not infect, brings unconsciousness and slight memory loss. In the morning, they will all awake, alive, healthy and wondering about the unusual love bites on their necks.”

“Liar.” Romany had been in the club scene long enough to know, no one ever appeared with bite marks like those on the green haired girl’s body, just as no one ever had details on what happened at the secret parties. Now she understood: The invitations were legendary because no one ever returned to share the truth.

“I know they’re dead,” she whispered.

“Maybe. Maybe not. You can easily find out.” Again, she felt the needle–sharp fangs press against her skin without breaking it. “Join us. Join me. Have it all.”

“All?”

“Eternal life. Eternal youth.”

“Eternal…” Romany thought of her father, drunk and bloated on his chair at the flat, lifeless since the death of her mother five years ago. She remembered the wasted, shriveled husk that had been her mother, remembered the sound of soft earth striking the coffin lid.

“No disease?” she asked softly.

“Vampirism is a disease, beautiful one,” he laughed. “A disease for which there is no cure and can be no prevention, but the rewards are endless.”

Each time the woman’s tongue touched Julian’s skin, a tremor shook Romany. The colors of blood and skin, tinted blue by the moon, were more erotic than anything she had ever seen before. Ashamed at the strength of her reactions, she tried to tear her eyes away, but, cradled in the woman’s arms, convulsions began rocking Julian’s body. Romany’s sexual craving was driven away as concern filled her once more. Again, she tried to break free to reach her friend, only to be held back.

“What’s happening?” she screamed.

“The infection is spreading, and his body is trying to fight it off.”

“How long ‘til it’s over?” Romany reached with her free hand towards Julian as he shook violently.

“The full transformation? A few days while the infection transforms his body, taking it over. To see if he will react badly to this first stage? I would say three or four more minutes.”

“React badly?”

“Some, like the green haired one, are not strong enough to bear the alterations, the sensations brought on by the rapid change. Their minds snap.” Pausing, he moved his lips close to her ear. “They go mad,” he whispered.

“So you kill them.”

“Yes. In the first few days, an infected individual can be killed by traditional means. It would be dangerous to allow an insane vampire to live.”

Suddenly, Julian’s spasms stopped. His eyes opened slowly. Confusion crossed his features momentarily, then he reached up, pulling Zaria’s face to his own, kissing her hard and deep. Still connected mouth-to-mouth, they sank to the ground. Julian rolled her body beneath his, tearing away her dress to expose the naked body beneath while she, in turn, undid the leather to release his straining cock. In moments, the two were violently joined.

Romany found herself struggling to retain her composure, as she watched the couple’s frenetic motions. Though intimately familiar with Julian’s stamina, she was amazed by his new enthusiasm.

“I thought vampires couldn’t get it up,” she whispered.

“A vampire can do anything a living man can, except breed. We just need to feed before doing it.” Releasing her other arm, the man reached beneath the fishnet top, cupping her breasts and tweaking the still erect nipples. “Join us, beautiful one, and I will prove it to you again, and again, and again.”

Become a vampire. Could she do it? Could she subsist upon the blood of others, just to gain eternal life and youth? She watched the woman sink her teeth in Julian’s sweaty chest as he thrust into her body. Dark blood trickled down the woman’s cheek and neck; Romany found herself breathing heavily, flushing at the sight. How did it feel, to drink the warm liquor of life?

No one would miss her, if she never returned. Julian and Mala were all the friends she had, and the vampires had taken them both. Despite the man’s words, Romany was certain Mala was as dead as the green haired girl. And Romany’s family – they would probably never notice. Eventually one of the brats would take over her room, and her lifestyle. Maybe her father would be so drunk he would call the child by her name, never realizing it wasn’t her any longer. No. If declining the vampire’s offer meant dying, then there really wasn’t a choice at all.

Behind her the man waited, silently allowing her to make the decision. Leaning back, Romany ran her hand up the length of his leg until she found what she was seeking. He was hard and ready for her.

Tearing her eyes away from Julian and Zaria rutting like animals on the grass, Romany turned to face the vampire. He still was not handsome. His smile was still nothing to remark upon, but he made her feel electric when he touched her body. Surprising him, Romany grabbed his face urgently and, pressing her mouth on his, forced her tongue deep inside. Slowly she withdrew, caressing his fangs, tasting the salty traces of blood which clung to them. A taste she discovered she wanted.

“Prove it to me now,” she purred, “I want you inside me when your teeth bite. I want you drinking in my sweat along with my blood.” Her hand slipped back down to his pants, tugging at the zipper. “If I’m going to run the risk of madness and death, I want my last moments to be an orgasm.”

Smiling, showing his pearlescent fangs for the first time, he reached behind her, unhooking the leather skirt, and pulling it down past her softly curved hips. It slipped to the ground at her feet and she kicked it away, luxuriating in the feel of the cool night air against her skin.

“I shall accept that invitation,” the vampire said, taking Romany into his arms, and lowering them both to the ground.

Enrapt in their own pounding music, Julian and his partner did not react when Romany uttered a piercing scream as the vampire penetrated her.

As music and the noises of sex merged with the normal sounds of the night, the eyes of the green haired girl continued staring sightlessly, fearfully into the darkness. Beyond her body, hidden by its twisted form and the fallen pile of stones, Mala and the goth couple also stared at nothing with distorted features, patterns of dried blood and puncture wounds decorating their dead skin.

�

episode i: journey into darkness - episode ii: tea party - episode iii: awakening
episode iv: the book of grief - episode v: paterfamilias - episode vi: breaking points
episode vii: the dark of the mind - episode viii: decisions
episode ix: momentary distractions - episode x: exorcising demons i
episode xi: porcelain visions - episode xii: the nature of jackals
episode xiii: exorcising demons ii - episode xiv: the invitation
episode xv: body & soul - episode xvi: mothering sunday
episode xvii: imbalance of power - episode xviii: interlude
episode xix: between life and death

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