Lucy Emerson shuddered a little as she picked up what was possibly once a piece of arm and tossed it into a plastic bin liner. Her two sons were upstairs scrubbing blood off the walls of the bathroom and her father was outside trying to restart the engine on the truck so he could pull it out of the wall.
To say that the evening had been unusual was a bit like saying that Hitler was a bit of a mean guy or that the Sahara desert was a tad on the dry side. In the space of a few hours she had discovered and been forced to accept that vampires existed, that her father new about this, that she had been dating their chief and that her eldest son had been temporarily transformed into a half human half vampire hybrid.
And to think, before I came to Santa Carla my main concerns were the mortgage repayments and whether or not Sammy was flunking math.
She had also discovered that of all the different bodily substances, brain goo was the hardest to get out of carpeting. That was something she really could have done without knowing. She looked at the bottle of stain remover on the floor beside her, at the garish pink label which said ‘Gets out over 500 of the toughest stains in a flash!’
Including blood, cranial fluid and liquidised flesh, she thought, a kind of mirthless hysterical laugh rising up in her throat. This was just far too surreal.
Once she was fairly satisfied that she had cleared up as much of the corpse by the stereo as possible (the girl, Star, had informed her that it had been called Dwayne, but for the sake of her sanity she let it remain nameless in her mind), she rose to her feet, her back aching slightly from having been bent double for so long, and made her way over to her father’s taxidermy workshop.
As she drew nearer she felt a sharp pang of sorrow in her chest. There was no way she could convince herself that this one was just another mess to be cleared up. She couldn’t force herself to think of this one as an ‘it’ rather than a ‘him’ the way she had done with the other one.
That was what Star had called him, and he was the only one Max had called by name. Evidently he had been the leader of the little band of un-dead monsters, but looking at him Lucy found it hard to imagine him being leader of anything except maybe a high school football team.
Where did it all go wrong honey?
As she looked at him she became vaguely aware that she would not be able to lift him on her own, that she’d need some help remove the lethal antlers which had skewered his torso…
Like a butterfly stuck with a pin to hold it down
…but she found herself not really wanting to move him yet. He almost looked peaceful lying there, his eyes closed…
They had been blue though, bright and glittering, that evening in Max’s store
…and his face reverted back to that of a mortal boy, all soft lines and pouty lips. He looked damn near angelic.
I bet you were once, she thought, sitting down on the edge of the workbench. Back before all of this happened. Did you have a family back then? Is there a mother out there somewhere still looking for her lost son?
Something, maybe woman’s intuition…
Ha, could have used some more of that a few nights ago
…told her that there was, and her heart went out to that poor woman. Max had been right about one thing, her maternal instincts were very strong, and she could imagine how heartbreaking it must be to loose a child.
I almost lost my own today
She suppressed that thought with a shudder. Her children were safe now and that was all that mattered, they could get on with their lives and put all this horror behind them. But she could not shake the thought that it could have just as easily gone the other way. Her own boy, her beloved Michael, could just as easily have ended up lying there lifeless, like a broken doll, or could have become a fully fledged creature of the night, stalking the shadows and feeding upon the innocent. The same went for Sam, her baby, who she still thought of as a child even though he was rapidly growing up into a capable young man. Thankfully they would both have the chance to live on and follow their dreams. They had been lucky.
More lucky than you huh baby?
She reached out a hand and brushed a stray lock of hair out of David’s face. His skin was already cold, and she wondered whether that had happened before or after he had been impaled on the antlers.
With a deep sigh and another yell of complaint from the nerve endings in her back, she stood back up and headed for the kitchen where Star was comforting her little boy companion and the two Frog brothers…
What else could two boys named after Edgar Allen Poe be but vampire hunters, ha! What were their parents thinking? Must be something about this town, makes people morbid
…were busy cleaning blood spatter off the walls.
She would ask Star to help her, the sweet doe eyed girl who despite having aided in the destruction of the vampire gang seemed to have some lingering affection for the boys. Especially David, her voice had almost cracked with sadness when she had mentioned him. Together, they would see about a proper burial for what was left of the boys.
After all, I would hate to think that if my own sons were killed far from home that they’d just be thrown out like garbage.
Again her thoughts went out to David’s mother.
I can’t give you back your son, but in death I can at least treat him as I would want my own sons treated had they been so unfortunate.
It was at that point that Sam came thundering down the stairs, forehead gleaming with sweat, clothes stained with various varieties of grime and faithful Nanook in tow.
“Mom, Mike and I have finished the bathroom, you need any help down here?”
She did not answer him, but instead pulled him close and held him tight, vowing never to let him come to harm
I wont let your life get ruined the way David’s was.