Vampire

She gently swirls the glass, watching candlelight refract through crimson. She takes a sip.

Her hair is jet black, her skin is alabaster white. Cliché, yes, but it’s her choice, it’s a lifestyle.

At her feet a cringing wretch of a man, barely more than a boy, licks her boots. New boots, but she cut through the park on the way here to muddy their soles; he likes it like that.

She met a man in the park. She tries to remember his face but all she gets is shadow. She rubs her neck. The expensive wine seems thin, unsatisfying.




Halloween double bill: A curse catches up with Professor Hamilton in Beetles.

Beetles

Professor Hamilton pressed his back to the sandy wall. Scarab beetles scuttled up his bare legs. He grabbed them. Shovelled them into his mouth. Crunched down to a burst of viscous, rank ooze: shards of chitin in a musty soup. Swallowing grew harder and harder.

He woke sweating, heaving, his stomach convulsing. Every night since Egypt. No pharaoh’s treasure was worth this.

He swept the lank, wet hair from his forehead. His hands were trembling, they were thinner, he was sure. His fair skin looked unhealthy, translucent; something black bulged and crawled beneath it.

He grabbed for his monogrammed letter-opener.





Halloween double bill: She's a lifestyle Vampire.

(Beetles originally written for Lily Childs' Friday Prediction)

Eden

You can see all the world’s churches from here, every grand cathedral. All those phallic spires, thrusting impotently at heaven. Don’t they know it’s rude to point?

Besides, heaven is beyond, not above.

You can see the filthy humans, too. How they roam, pathetic grubs crawling through the fetid dirt of their lives. No use glossing over the truth, they have wasted what they were given. They have cut down, dug up, burnt and buried The Garden.

The Old Testament is prophecy, all that is to come. First things first: they will be driven from Eden, that they call Earth.






(Originally written for Lily Childs' Friday Prediction)

Doom

I have infiltrated the Darkling megaship.

They are powerfully single-minded creatures; once an idea strikes, they follow it to its fullest. They have no fleet, just this one mighty warship. And quite aptly, they have named it Doom.

It carries their army, their entire race. They come to invade Earth, they call this Operation Doom.

I have seen what the megaship carries, deep in its hold: their ultimate weapon. To be used only if they cannot have Earth for themselves. Its blast will crack the ground, ignite the atmosphere and boil away the seas.

This bomb, also, is codenamed Doom.