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Ziggy Stardust
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« Reply #150 on: December 09, 2008, 02:27:12 PM » |
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Those sound tasteless, twisted and pointless.
I mean, really, mine's just twisted and pointless. Ker-written!
To a casual observer, it would have looked as if someone was simply going to visit her. However, Estrella Goodwell was no casual observer. Her years of experience, showing clearly in the network of lines on her face, had made her suspicious, and her nature was one of caution. She pushed the curtain back and went to stand in front of the door, waiting for the doorbell to sound its ‘bing-bong’, announcing the arrival of her one and only niece.
Soon enough, the doorbell did sound, and Estrella opened to door to find a tan-faced girl of about fifteen, a sour expression on her face, wearing a studded belt, a t-shirt promoting Paramore, and some very tight-looking jeans. She was holding by the handle a huge suitcase on wheels and carrying a gargantuan tote bag on each arm, and, by the looks of it, a burning resentment for being in her current predicament. Estrella, for her part, smiled wanly at the girl and said “I suppose you’re Harriet.”
The girl, scowling at the use of her full name, snapped, “Who else?”
Inwardly, Mrs. Goodwell felt an irrevocable and utter revulsion for the girl who stood on her crisp, orderly porch. As it was, Estrella only narrowed her eyes slightly and said coldly, “Won’t you come in?”
As the girl did so, her great-aunt bustled out of the hallway and called from the living room, “I suppose we’ve got something in common, you and I.”
“What?” asked the girl tonelessly, almost without interest.
The old woman came again into the line of sight of the girl. “We’re both alone in the world.”
This, if anything, made the girl scowl even more; the loss of her parents had clearly taken its toll, thought Estrella sarcastically. For herself, she was horrified to think that this wretch of a girl was the only one left in the bloodline. Oh well; that would be rectified soon enough.
After a period of stiff silence had intervened, the aunt continued, “You’ll be sleeping upstairs, in the guest room.” She started up the stairs slowly, with the aid of a thick walking stick she always carried with her. The girl, after what she had judged to be a period of time sufficient to express her disdain, followed, banging her rolling suitcase noisily after her. Estrella frowned at this.
When they reached a landing consisting of a square patch of sensible cream carpet and a brown-colored wall, they turned right and found themselves in a small room furnished only with a bed, a hope chest and a small desk. There was a window in one corner, looking out onto the suburban street before the house and on the trim grass in front of Estrella’s house. The girl looked down at the picturesque scene, showing no emotion whatsoever.
Estrella extracted from the girl one of her tote bags and placed it on the chest. “I’m sure you’ll find it comfortable in here.”
Harri, as she was known by her friends, turned from the window to her aunt. She looked at the room and she looked back to the sensibly dressed, slightly rotund woman that was now all the family she had left. She nodded once, then added, “Yeah.”
Estrella sat on the small chair adjacent to the desk. “I trust you had a nice trip down here?”
The girl nodded; she now seemed preoccupied with her electric-blue fingernails. She clearly felt uncomfortable with her aunt and the silence in the house; it was not at all what she was used to.
Estrella summoned up memories of what she was used to; a chaotic city, full of gutters and street scum, and literally everyone and their dog prancing about at all hours of the day and night. She fair shuddered to remember it. Beastly place, she thought.
Suddenly, Estrella rose from the chair; she seemed to have reached a decision. She abruptly strode over to Harri’s position by the window and embraced the orphaned girl. Harri was startled; by reflex she awkwardly placed her arms around the old woman, and for a timeless moment they stood still, alone in an empty world.
Harri was even more startled when the aunt opened her sallow wedge of a mouth and with gleaming fangs dug into the jugular vein of her niece.
As the young girl recoiled in horror, then began thrashing uncontrollably, Estrella guided her over to the queen bed and laid her upon the flowered bedspread.
“Don’t you worry,” Estrella Goodwell, ancient vampire assured her terrified, soon-to-be-undead niece. “You’ll be a lot better off with me.”
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