Deceased Dora

by Claire Chilton

  “Correct, Stella. We only wage war with werewolves.”

  Melanie sighed. “You guys should just make out already, and then the rest of us could enjoy some hot wolf ass.”

  Fredward gripped Melanie by the shoulders and shook her. “Don’t be a fool! You know it will kill you.”

  Then he hugged her to his chest and stroked her hair. “Silly Melanie, don’t let your big, vampire heart lead you into destruction.”

  “Or your overactive vampire hormones,” Stella added. Her dark eyes flared with jealousy as she stared at the other two vampires. She glanced around as if looking for a target for her frustration. Her eyes settled upon Dora.

  “You! What are you doing?” Stella snarled at Dora.

  Dora glanced up from the rock she was sitting on and paused filing her nails.

  “Watching a Twilight fan-fiction and getting bored,” she said.

  Fredward gasped. He released Melanie as his eyes widened in shock. “She used the sacred name.”

  Melanie held her hand to her mouth and trembled.

  “What, Twilight?” Dora asked.

  Stella paled in terror, which was hard to notice given how pale she already was.

  “Ah ha!” A young man interrupted as he jumped out from behind a bush wearing only some jeans.

  “Now you die, vampire scum.”

  “Carob!” Melanie cried, and then stopped herself.

  “I mean. What brings you to our territory, deceptively hot wolfscum?”

  Carob brushed back his auburn hair and stared at Melanie with longing. “Run, Melanie. You can’t be part of this.”

  Fredward shot a dramatic stare at Melanie. “Traitor!” he cried.

  Melanie glanced around panic-stricken before she turned and fled into the forest.

  “Find me, my love,” she cried in the distance.

  Dora shook her head and carried on filing her nails. They were a mess after climbing out of her grave.

  “For that wolf, you shall die.” Fredward threatened Carob and bared his fangs.

  “You first,” Carob replied. “Burn under the blaze of a full moon,” he said as he spun around, dropped his trousers and flashed his ass at the vampires.

  Fredward and Stella both shrank back in fear, hissing at the glowing white ass of the werewolf.

  They seemed to glow too as their glitter makeup sparkled in the light.

  “It burns, my love!” Stella cried, clinging to Fredward.

  Dora glanced at them and frowned when she noticed that there was smoke coming off both vampires.

  Fredward scooped Stella into his arms before leaping out of the trench and fleeing into the forest.

  “Are you shitting me?” Dora asked, feeling no effect from Carob’s naked ass other than a mild discomfort from staring at it for so long.

  Carob straightened up and pulled up his pants. He turned to face her while fastening them.

  “What are you?” he asked her.

  “I dunno,” she said with a shrug.

  “If you’re with the vampires, then you are an enemy of mine,” he said. His shiny chest muscles rippled as he tensed them.

  “Yeah? I’m not with anyone, I don’t think. So, you’re a werewolf?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And your special power is flashing your ass at people?”

  “Have you never heard that werewolves are most powerful during a full moon?” he asked her.

  “I didn’t think it meant their ass.”

  He shrugged. “It’s open to interpretation.”

  “What your ass is?” She shook her head as the idea of a talking ass jumped into her mind.

  “Some people cannot handle the true nature of what it is to be supernatural.” He scowled at her.

  “I wish my power was unseeing your ass,” she said.

  “What do you mean? I have a nice ass.” He glanced back at his pert backside.

  “Dude, it’s seriously hairy!”

  “I’m not waxing my ass.” He pouted. “Real men have hair!”

  “Real men don’t scamper around the woods and flash their asses at strangers.”

  “I didn’t know you were here.” He flushed with embarrassment.

  After a moment, he glanced up and studied her. “Why are you here?”

  “The vampires think I’m a vampire, and I guess this is their initiation or something.” She didn’t really know why she was here. She’d come to find out more about the supernatural world, but so far all she’d discovered was that there were a lot of supernatural creatures, and most of them appeared to be a bit fucked in the head.

  “You’re not a vampire. You’d have burned up if you’d been exposed to a full moon for that long.”

  “I wonder what I am then.”

  “I dunno.” He shook his head. “Do you want to come with me on a spirit ride to find out?”

  “A what?”

  He sniffed the air, and then glanced at her. “No time for stupid questions, yes, or no?”

  She considered her options. The vampires were pissing her off, and this guy might know something she didn’t. She needed to find out what she was, then she could use whatever dumbass powers she had to find Kieron.

  “Yes.”

  “Come with me.” He offered his hand.

  She took it and stood beside him.

  “The vampires are coming back.” He pulled her after him as they ran through the forest. “I’ll see if I can help you while we hide from them.”

  “Thanks, I think?” She gasped as her pulled her into a dark cave.

  Kieron paused outside the gates of the gothic church that had once been Dora’s home. The old stone was chipped and dirty with moss growing in the cracks. He could see holes in the roof where broken tiles had fallen away.

  He stared up at the window in the spire, which had once been the window to Dora’s room. The glass was dusty and dark, and one of the wooden shutters was broken and hanging off.

  They’ve really let this place go since I was last here.

  He glanced at Carissa. She was staring down the road and appeared deep in thought. She’d been distracted since the dead letter office, and still hadn’t explained who her mother was.

  He contemplated the gates again, considering his options.

  If I want to find Dora, this is the best place to start looking. But last time I was here, we got attacked by a deranged holy man.

  “What are we waiting for?” Carissa interrupted his thoughts.

  “I’m not sure the people we find here will be very friendly,” he said.

  She shrugged. “We’re not looking for friends. We just need information.”

  He nodded.

  What’s the worst that could happen?

  He pushed open the gate, gritting his teeth at the menacing creak it made. He walked up the path towards the double doors of the church. The wooden doors were old and cracked with rusty handles. A pale, beam of light shone through the opening.

  He silently pushed the door open wide, staring into the silent chapel. In the dim candlelight, he could just make out the rows of empty pews down the deserted aisle.

  He intended to call out a greeting, but the gloomy feeling of the place silenced him. He glanced at Carissa and placed a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to be quiet. Something felt very wrong.

  Peering down at the worn welcome mat of the church, he shuddered. He knew that as a demon, he was not supposed to enter a church, but he was also aware that he’d been in this place before with no problems.

  With a sense of foreboding, he crossed the threshold and stepped into the gloomy building. Instinctively, he waited a moment for lightning to strike. When nothing happened, he continued walking down the aisle towards the pulpit.

  Shadows moved around the chapel as the breeze caused the candle flames to shiver. His footsteps echoed around the room as he walked on the cold stone.

  His senses were on full alert. There was a feeling of impending doom in the old church and something wholl
y rotten here.

  How has it become run down so quickly?

  He paused when he heard a small sob. It was faint. He wouldn’t have heard it at all if the room hadn’t been so quiet. He turned his head to the left. The sound appeared to be coming from inside the confessional boxes.

  He glanced at Carissa. She looked paler than usual. He motioned towards the confessional box that he had heard the sound coming from. She nodded in understanding. She must have heard it too.

  They silently walked towards the curtained entrance, standing on either side of it. Another tiny sob echoed through the curtain.

  Someone is in there crying.

  He shot a look Carissa, and she nodded while she unsheathed her knife.

  The air was alive with dark tension. Whatever was inside this booth was not good. There was a dark, ominous feeling radiating from it.

  His hand hovered over the curtain for a moment. He dreaded what he would find inside this box. Even hell spawn didn’t freak him out this much. There was a stench in the chapel that he couldn’t place, but it reminded him of something dark. Being from Hell, he’d seen a lot of darkness in his time.

  He shook off the feeling as he ripped open the curtain to see what was contained within the wooden box, freezing in shock as his eyes drank in the visage before him.

  The sobbing abruptly ceased, and he heard Carissa gasp beside him.

  Slumped inside the box was a drunk and sobbing Theodore Carridine. Several days’ growth of dark stubble marred his whiskey face. Food stains and sweat marks dirtied his once white vest that bulged out where his potbelly poked against it. His white hair stuck out at crazy angles, and his eyes shone with tears of sadness.

  Kieron watched his hand as he raised the bottle of whiskey he nursed to his lips and took long a swig.

  “Er, Mr. Carridine?” Kieron asked. He wasn’t even sure it was the same man. This guy was a wreck.

  “Thas Reverent Carridine to yous.” The drunk snapped in response. “I’s a reverent.”

  “Sure you are,” Carissa muttered while she sheathed her knife.

  Theodore peered at Carissa. He jerked back in his seat and dropped the bottle of whiskey onto the floor. His eyes widened in terror.

  “A ghost.” He gasped. “No! Make her go away.” He rocked back and forth while holding his head. “No more ghosts, no more haunting. I can’t vanquish anymore demons. Oh God, please save me. Forgive me for my sins …”

  Kieron frowned.

  Does he think she’s Dora?

  “What the fuck?” Carissa peered at Kieron. “Is everyone in this town insane?”

  He shrugged. In his experience of Berkville, the only answer he had to that was ‘yes’. Although, this situation was new. Dora’s father appeared to be suffering from guilt and remorse.

  About bloody time.

  He frowned.

  But why now?

  What had made him fall now when he’d been happily burning his daughter alive not so long ago?

  Vanquish demons…

  He felt a shiver of fear shoot down his spine. Had Theodore found Dora when she came back from Hell? Had he vanquished her?

  “Where is Dora?” He demanded as sparks of anger shot through his body.

  If he’s hurt her…

  Theodore peeked through the fingers he held over his eyes.

  “What are you dense? She’s there!” He removed one hand and pointed at Carissa. “Back from the dead again, and again … always haunting me. Why Lord, why?” Theodore cried.

  Kieron felt anger burn in his throat as it became clear that they’d hurt his Dora again.

  He growled, feeling his demon form fight its way to the surface. His wings flashed out of his back and flapped at Theodore, threatening retribution.

  “Where is Dora?” His voice seemed deeper, even to him, as he coldly stared at the broken preacher.

  Theodore must have heard the threat in his voice because he looked up at him. His eyes widened even more.

  The preacher slid off the pew and fell to his knees before him with awe in his expression. “Thank you Lord, thank you!” He bowed his head to him. “Save me angel.”

  Kieron frowned.

  What the hell? He isn’t supposed to like this.

  “Where is Dora?” Kieron repeated.

  “Dude, you’re glowing,” Carissa said.

  He glanced around the church, which was illuminated by a holy light emitting from his wings as if the church itself had juiced him up.

  That’s kinda weird.

  “She’s been taken. I t-t-tried to save her, but the demons have her. Command me angel, and let me serve you.” Theodore begged.

  He realised that Theodore thought he was an angel, which was kind of amusing. He worried because it sounded as if Dora was in danger. He needed to find her.

  “You need to take me to Dora, pathetic human,” he said. “And er, have a shower and some coffee before we go to her.

  “Yes! Theodore got to his feet. “I’ll cleanse my body and soul.”

  “Yep, and put on a clean shirt because you stink, dude,” he added for good measure.

  “Oh, right. Sorry about that.” Theodore glanced down at his shirt. “After Josie left, I had some problems with the washing machine.”

  “And lay off the whiskey,” he said.

  “The devil’s drug!” Theodore kicked the bottle in agreement.

  “Actually I hear he’s more into bee—”

  A shot rang out, interrupting him, and a bullet whizzed past his face.

  He spun around to see two men wearing dark suits and sunglasses. They were shooting at him from the far end of the chapel.

  He grabbed Carissa and launched into the air, on instinct, flying up high to avoid being shot.

  “No! Wait.” Theodore shouted at the men. “He’s an angel of the Lord. Stop shooting. The Vatican will want him alive.”

  “The Vatican, again?” Kieron heard Carissa mutter.

  “Wait, Great Angelic Being. What do you want from me?” Theodore shouted up to Kieron as he rose towards the roof of the church.

  Kieron darted left and right to avoid the flying bullets.

  “Find Dora, and save her!” he shouted back. “You must save Dora.” On that final command, he quickly ascended, bursting through the roof of the church and taking Carissa into the sky with him. He kept going until the men below were just dots beneath them.

  “What do we do now?” Carissa asked.

  “I dunno. Follow him, I guess? He knows where Dora is.”

  “If they think she’s a demon, he might not be the only one who knows where she is,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Berkville has a lot of supernatural creatures in it, or it used to. If there was a new demon in town, they would know.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “I’ve been here before.” She shrugged. “It was a very long time ago.”

  “With your mother?”

  She nodded. “It’s a long story.”

  He glanced down at the men who were now outside the church. They were handcuffing Theodore and taking him away.

  “It doesn’t look like I’ll be following him for a while. Okay, let’s try it your way. Where to?”

  “Head for the brightest neon lights you can find,” she said.

  He raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “Eighties bars attract the freaks,” she muttered.

  Dora tried to push away the sweaty werewolf she was crushed against.

  “Dude, get the fuck off me!”

  “Shh,” Carob said as he covered her mouth with his hand. “They might hear us.”

  She bit his hand, and he yelped. “There’s no one here.” She narrowed her eyes at him while trying to get past him in the narrow passage of the cave.

  “We might have been followed.” He brushed back his auburn bangs and narrowed his eyes at her.

  She pushed him back against the rough stone of the cave before stepping back and brush
ing herself off.

  “Eww, do you oil your chest?” She glanced down at her black jacket, which was now shiny with either sweat or oil.

  “It’s for protection against the cold.” He appeared embarrassed.

  “Very manly,” she muttered.

  “My skin chaps easily!”

  She shook her head. “Great, a metrosexual werewolf.”

  He leaned over her. “I’m all man, and I like my women silent,” he said with a growl.

  “I thought you were half wolf?”

  “I am!” He proudly beat his chest. “But I still like women.”

  “Clearly not if you like them silent. Great, a misogynist,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “I’m not whatever that is, and I’m not gay!” he cried.

  “Metrosexual, not homosexual, you idiot.”

  “I’m not any sexual!” He folded his arms, and his biceps bulged angrily at her.

  “Asexual?” she asked with a grin. It was kind of fun seeing the confused expression appear on his face.

  Are all werewolves this stupid?

  “Do you want my help or not?” He growled.

  “Only if you promise not to rub your baby oil all over me again, and no humping my leg either.”

  He narrowed his eyes and snarled at her.

  She hissed back like an angry kitten. It seemed appropriate.

  A confused expression crossed his face again. “You’re a weird girl,” he said.

  “It has been mentioned before.” She nodded. “So, which way to the spirit ride thing?”

  He paused, appearing deep in thought for a moment.

  “Fine, but I’m starting to wonder if this is a bad idea,” he muttered. “Follow me.” He walked past her, down the narrow passage inside the cave.

  She followed him, unable to see much as they went deeper into the cave. She stumbled on the uneven floor a few times before reaching for the rough, stone wall to steady herself. Her fingers brushed against spongy moss and cold granite.

  “I can’t see shit,” she hissed.

  “You will soon. We’re nearly there.” He called out over his shoulder.

  “What is a spirit ride anyway?”

  “What do you think it is?”

  She considered the words for a moment. “Is it some kind of soul ritual?”

  “Some people say it is a spiritual experience.”