There we were, neck and neck, well, more like neck and mouth, struggling. Her trying to suck more blood and I trying to get her off somehow, but no matter what I did I couldn’t. The room began to blur and my body had that heavy feeling.
You know I don’t understand this whole biting the neck thing being erotic. I found it to be a pain in the neck . . . literally! Unless, of course, you got some hunky vamp sucking on your neck, then I could possibly see it, but I have my doubts.
I became fainter with each minute that passed by. I thought that I couldn’t die like this. I was still young, good-looking and I had a boyfriend, Chester Bertie who I couldn’t see leaving him alone for someone else to grab, that’s when I decided that this chickie had enough of me.
Focusing I tried to see if anything was around for me to grab and I found something. Thank God it was close by. Inching my fingers around it, I held tight, raised my arm and plunged it into her back. The sucking stopped and Villodame reared her head and gasped before falling over—dead.
It worked, thank God Almighty. After today, I’ll never look at a pencil the same again. It had two things going for it, wood and lead. Wood is lethal to vampires, the lead, I’m not so sure if it has any effects, but it’s poisonous. After a few minutes of deep breaths it dawned on me that this vamp was my friend and I had just killed her. A tear ran down my cheek as I looked at her still body. The guilt of what I had just done immediately poured into my soul and I wept.
“Dear sweet Jesus, forgive me. I had no choice, she was sucking the life out of me!” Then everything went black.
As I laid there, I heard a voice. It was distant and undistinguishable and I thought, oh goody, it was my maker, come to take me home.
“Charlese, my God, what went on here? Charlese, baby please don’t die on me!”
I felt arms curl me into a strong, masculine chest, as he placed on the couch. Still thinking this was my maker still, I thought it a bit odd that God would put me on a couch.
“God I’m ready.” My voice all raspy and low. “Don’t put me on my couch.”
“Charlese, I ain’t God, it’s me, Chester! I’ve called for an ambulance they’re be here any minute.
My hand shook like I was an old woman, and grabbed God by the collar, pulled him in close so we could have a more up close and personal conversation.
“God . . . forgive me. I-I killed my friend there.” And pointed toward the floor.
Chester looked, then spoke, “Charlese, I don’t know who you’re pointing at, but there’s no one on the floor.”
Startled and a bit out of my mind from lack of blood, I rolled my head to have a look-see, and sure enough my floor was bare. I started to hyperventilate, where in the hell did she go? I know she was here, I have blood oozing from my neck to prove it, so it wasn’t a dream!
“Honey, you’ve lost a lot of blood, and you’re not making much sense right now.” He held me down, gently though and tried to sooth my soul, but wasn’t going to happen. I was bound and determined to figure this one out. Just then the EMT’s rushed in with a gurney. I was covered, belted and shot up with some cocktail shot that made me feel so unbelievably happy.
“I’ll follow you to the hospital, she’s a bit delirious, and so she might say some wild stuff.” Chester wiped his brow and blew out a deep breath.
They nodded as they shut the back end of the ambulance and got in up front and drove away. The sirens were blaring as they drove down the street. Lights flashing on top, lit the darkness as if they were swimming in a sea of black.
Meantime, Chester was cleaning up the mess when he heard footsteps. Turning around he saw Willodean in the doorway.
“Oh, Willodean am I glad to see you! Charlese had been attacked and almost died! Didn’t you hear her screaming or anything?”
“Yes, I heard.” She stood there, stiff as she spoke.
Chester looked appalled by her reply and like a volcano, was ready to explode. “Then why didn’t you come running or call 911?”
She stayed silent and then walked past him and into the kitchen. She took note of what was there, as if, she were taking inventory or something. As she continued to peruse the kitchen, Chester noticed something sticking out her back, a pencil.
Lord have mercy, Charlese was right! Softly, to himself so as to not alert Willodean, but then he had wondered if she even knew about it being there.
“Ah . . . “
“Yes, I know, the pencil right? It didn’t hurt, well, maybe a little, but it didn’t kill me neither.” She turned on her heels, blurred then refocused. “You’d think it would, right?” Her eyes stole into Chester, who now began to think he should get out and fast.
“Why so scared Chester? You and I have been friends for such a long time. I have to tell you, I thought I was a goner too, seeing how the pencil is wood and all, but the lead has properties similar like to blood. Seems the lead rejuvenated me to life or something like that. Anyway, now that you’re here, I think I need some more to drink. My mouth is so parched.” A big smiled spread across her face that didn’t look inviting, in fact, it was frightening.
Trying to figure out a way of this mess, Chester began to mumble out loud.
“I-I . . . , now Willodean . . . “
“Whatever, I’m already spoken for, you have to find your own . . . ah . . . your own dessert to snack on.”
Her mood, as well as, her look changed. “What is up with desserts in this town? Doesn’t anybody have any?”
Then he got an idea. Knowing Willodean loved desserts . . . this Villodame, who is a freakier version of his friend, must like it as well.
“Ah, yeah, well, Dry Prong isn’t noted for that, but just down the road a spell, about a mile or two, they have great pecan pie.” And motioned toward that direction from the kitchen.
Her eyes widened as the words pecan pie resounded, then, like a blur, she was gone.
Chester heaved a heavy sigh.
“Dang, if she ain’t Willodean, she sure ranks right up with her. I don’t know too many people with that mentality.” He chuckled a bit and shook his head, “Pecan pie, really?”
He went to the door, and stepped outside, locking it behind him and headed for his truck. As he walked down the driveway, with the buzz of the bugs in the air, he also heard a high pitch screech . . .”Pecan Pie, pecan pie!” Smiled, and drove toward the hospital, in the opposite direction, laughing.