Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Bloodrite

Bloodrite
by Lisa McCourt Hollar

"Ed, don't you DARE do this to me! I don't care who you have to murder, but you will be here by five sharp, or there will be hell to pay."

Joan slammed the phone down, her temper beginning to boil. If Ed thought he could get out of dinner tonight, he had another think coming. They were his parents after all. God knew, his mother hated her, constantly harping on her inadequacies and inability to properly care for her son.

Ed's father wasn't much better. The last time he had been there, the bastard had cornered her in the kitchen and had a feel of her breasts. If she had to spend even one hour alone with those two soul suckers, she would slit her own throat.

Sabrina, her long haired Persian rubbed against her ankles, meowing her sympathy. Joan bent over and scratched the feline under the chin. "I suppose I should lock you in the bedroom before the harpie gets here. We all know how her allergies act up."

Sabrina purred, leaning into Joan's fingers. "I wish I could lock myself in there with you," Joan said, picking the cat up and heading for the back room. "The day I married Ed was the last day I truely lived. Of course that is going to change tonight. Tomorrow, you and I will both be free of our cages."

Her friends had been envious when Ed Carver asked Joan to marry him. Joan's family hadn't been the poorest in town, but they weren't far from it. It was more expected that Joan would serve as a waitress at Ed Carver's wedding, than the bride of the son of the wealthiest family in town.

Joan set Sabrina inside the bedroom, giving her fellow prisoner one last scratch beneath the chin, before shutting the door. In the kitchen, she began to prepare dinner. It was to be a special event. It was her in-laws anniversary. Officially, they had been married for 25 years, officially being what anyone that wasn't family knew. In truth, they had been married 250 years. Their youthful appearance was explained by their marrying young.

"My God, I was only a child myself when I had Ed," Fran Carver would often say. She had never given birth either. Ed was no more their son, than Joan was his wife. Contrary to recent films romanticising vampires, Ed's dick did not work. A penis required blood flowing through veins to achieve an erection. Joan was his wife in name only, chosen for her blood, which was headier than any of the other women in town.

Ed hadn't even bothered turning her on their wedding night, draining enough to weaken her will, but not enough to kill. He kept promising to turn her, one day, but after five years of being used as a chew toy, she realized someday was never going to come.

"Not unless I force his hand." Joan smiled as she prepared the anniversry dinner. The baby that lay on the counter screamed, but she barely noticed. The herbs she rubbed into the child's skin acted as an irritant, turning the pale flesh red. The herbs were meant to enhance the taste of the infant, who would be consumed alive. They also would disguise the taste of the one herb she hoped they wouldn't recognize. But Ed needed to be here, in order for this to work.

***
"Darling, you made it!" Joan smiled with genuine delight when her husband walked through the door. His mother was right behind him, fawning over him as usual. Brushing some imaginary dirt off of Ed's sleeve, she shot Joan a withering look. The implication was clear.

"Dinner is ready," Joan said, smiling at her mother-in-law.

It was an hour later, after the babe had been consumed, that they realized anything was wrong.

"Are you okay mother," Joan asked, her voice smug.

Fran Carver struggled to speak, her throat closing on her. "What did you do?"

"Juniper. I rubbed it on the baby."

"Juniper paralizes vampires. Why would you do this?"

"So I could do this." Joan then ran a stake through her father-in-law's heart. Pulling out another stake, she ran it through Fran's stomach. It didn't kill her, not like it had her husband, but it still caused Fran intense pain. Ed screamed, begging Joan to stop. "Turn me, or this will be the last meal any of you eat."

"But I can't move."

"True," Joan said, acting as though this hadn't occured to her. "But then, all I need is your blood. You have taken enough from me. Your blood is all that is needed to complete the cycle."

Ed's eyes widened at the implication.

"So I don't need to keep her alive after all." Joan shoved in another stake, this time in her side. Fran hissed and vowed she would kill her when her paralysis wore off.

"Then I suppose I should make sure to kill you first." Fran reached behind the couch and pulled out a sword. With one swing she sent Fran's head sailing through the air. She giggled maniacially when it landed on Ed's lap.

"Now it is my turn to feed." Punting her ex mother-in-law's head out of Ed's lap, Joan straddled her husband, slitting his jugular with the same sword she had decapitated Fran with. Locking her lips over the wound, she began drinking her husband's blood. She could feel herself becoming more powerful with each swallow. Then without warning, pain shot through her belly and the blood in her veins began to boil. Joan fell backwards, screaming. She hadn't expected it to be so painful. Then her skin began to blacken.

"Your blood," Ed said, "was sweet to us because you are of Carpathian decent. Unfortunately, Vampire blood is deadly to Carpathian's. That is why I refused to turn you. And now this seems to have been your last meal as well."

Word Count: 990

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