Christopher C. Newman “The Truth About Vampires” Excerpt

“The Truth About Vampires”

Morigana sobbed heavily as the tears coursed down her face.  She still clung to the lamppost like an injuried child to its mother’s leg.  Her knees gave out and she quickly found herself slumped on the cold, hard ground.  The betrayal was still a very fresh wound and her heart bled with every little reminder of how much Renee had hurt her.

“There she is,” a female voice softly said off to her right. Morigana looked up, her sight clouded by tears. She saw a woman of small height and build dressed in a black leather jacket with purple trim. She had an oval face, pretty blue eyes, and short blonde hair. Her leather pants were tucked into a pair of biker boots that sparkled with shiny buckles. Beside her was a pair of very large men dressed all in black and wearing ski masks. Fear rose up in Morigana and she tried to scramble to her feet, only to rip and tear the fishnet stockings, nearly pulling them from the clasps of her garter belt. The outfit that she had worn was being ruined as she tried to scurry off and run from the three figures before her. Marci’s high heeled half-boots rasped and scuffed themselves on the rough concrete of the sidewalk, but the men moved quickly forward. Wordlessly they snatched her up despite her screams, punches, and kicks. One of them covered her mouth with a black leather gloved hand and they followed the woman into a nearby alleyway. The light from the streetlamp failed to illuminate this dangerous looking place and soon Morigana found herself pinned against the side of the nightclub, held in place by the two massive men. She heard a ripping sound, one that elevated her fear, and with as quick a movement as she had ever seen the woman slapped a torn piece of duct tape across the terrified woman’s black painted lips.

“Morigana, I presume?” the woman said in a sweet voice tinged with sarcasm. “Or should I just call you Marci?”

Morigana’s eyes widened at the fact this strange woman knew her real name! She tried to say something in return but the duct tape hid all semblances of human speech from her voice. She only managed to mumble something unintelligently.

“You and I have met before. Well, I’m sure that your attention was completely focused on the man in the room, so I’ll be polite and introduce myself,” the woman continued in her amused tone. “My name is Mistress Fatima, and I am accustomed to being addressed as such.”

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