Dearest Clementine: Dark and Romantic Monstrous Tales (Letters Book 1)

by Candace Robinson

  “We?” Her new heart beat a happy rhythm at the words, and she wanted to shove it away because she could do the tasks alone. But … there was that but lingering within her.

  “Did you mean what you said back there?”

  “That I love you?” Something about saying those words felt easier now.

  “Yeah?” She didn’t want to deny how she felt any longer.

  “Well, we’re both in this too deep now, so I guess we’re in this together, right?” His arms were still splattered in dried blood as he pressed his palm to her cheek, but she didn’t care.

  “This is my problem, Jack. I can find the hearts I need without your help. I’ve been doing it alone for years...” Morgan paused, worrying her lip in between her teeth. “But if you insist...” She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his before softly kissing his lips. She had been alone in this for so long and now she wasn’t. It all felt so strange, but possibly right at the same time. She knew if she was fully human that all this murdering would be wrong, but she was something else. This was her survival, just as a vampire needed blood, and now she wanted more than anything to keep on living with Jack.

  “Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll tell you everything,” she said, letting her new heart fill up, for the first time, with love. “It’s been a month since I’ve seen you and I’m going to prove each and every day this month how much I missed you.”

  “If you insist,” he echoed her earlier words and smiled.

  Dearest Clementine,

  I haven’t gotten to the mountain yet, but I should be able to make it by tomorrow. If all goes well, I’ll have the blood to unlock the door, and I will find you. That is, if she gives it to me willingly. I’ve never been forceful, but I’ll do what I must for you, my dearest. I’m going to be honest here, this is the one time I’ve felt truly lost. My thoughts are starting to become “what ifs.” I’m holding onto the memory of that perfect moment when you put your hand against my cheek and asked me to marry you. Of course I said yes. While I hold onto the good times, this is the next tale I have for you.

  Always Yours,

  Dorin

  Sometimes We’re Not Hungry

  2032

  A pounding reverberated against the outside walls, repeating over and over. The screams grew more horrible with each passing second, as though they would never end. They tore at Siri’s nerves until she thought she would go mad with the suffering around her. Suffering she could neither stop nor run away from.

  In a stranger’s room, on the second floor of an abandoned apartment, Siri closed her eyes. She’d been there for three days, confined, waiting for Camille to return.

  She hadn’t.

  It should’ve only taken one day to go and check for an escape. One. Day.

  Siri moved the dusty curtains back from the sliding glass door. “Yep, there they are,” she said to herself as she gazed out. There were others—like her—hidden in rooms in the old building, remaining out of sight, yet the live ones outside had an uncanny ability to find them.

  She had waited long enough.

  Siri had promised Camille she wouldn’t try and go after her no matter what, but she wouldn’t listen this time.

  Alice released a soft purr from behind her. Siri turned around to face Camille’s kitten. “You know I only stayed here to watch you because she’s obsessed with having you not die.”

  Alice lifted a tiny paw to her mouth and gave it a soft lick, ignoring Siri.

  She hated that damn cat, but she loved Camille so she accepted the feline.

  Camille had been gone for three days. 892 days since Siri had been dead. 742 days since Camille had died. An outbreak had ripped the world to shreds. Her parents gone, her siblings gone, her dog gone, her old life—all of it—was gone.

  The thing was, Siri’s parents had been eccentric. One of those apocalyptic fanatics seen on the news. They’d had a basement filled with canned everything and also batteries, flashlights, inflatable mattresses, board games, you name it. Her life had been insanity growing up. But when the outbreak came, she was the only one in her family left.

  Infection, they called it. Movies always called it that, too.

  Yet, this infection didn’t spread through saliva or bites. It had been airborne. And then people died. Lots of people. But then the ones who died came back—pale and never hungry. And the ones who didn't die? Well, they became something else entirely. They became “The Ravenous” or “Ravs” for short.

  Siri stared at her pale hands—she was the once dead or now undead. Zombie could be considered the right term but she didn’t hunt down flesh to eat. No, that pastime was for the Ravs who preferred that adventurous activity.

  A howling scream echoed from outside, signaling the Ravs—who she preferred to think were more like vicious beasts—were increasing in number.

  “And guess what, Alice.” Siri looked at the cat—not an undead. “We may need to leave before I become their dinner. What do you say ol’ girl? Ready to head out?”

  Alice placed her paw down and stared up at Siri, unimpressed. The feline either didn’t understand Siri or just pretended. She would go with pretended.

  Siri never understood why the ones who died and came back weren’t the attackers. The Ravs had this addiction to wanting to eat undead flesh. Dead skin, muscle, and blood didn’t seem appetizing to her in the slightest. But since she’d died, eating anything wasn’t important anymore. She just roamed around with her pale skin, dark circles under her eyes, and constantly ran from Ravs. In this world, one would think the undead attacking humans would be the norm, but nope.

  As she parted the curtain again, a few of the Ravs, with hunger etched in their faces, charged at one of the doors. To her right, Siri caught something moving.

  “Oh, look, Alice, one already has something in its hand.” She turned to the cat and called her over. She didn’t come. “It looks like a leg.” Blood was sprayed all over the pavement. Seems more undead didn’t make it. She sighed and did a silent prayer, hoping the remainder of the body made it off somewhere.

  She missed the hunger at times. Missed the taste of food. Anything. But at that moment, she was ecstatic to be what she was. Having a leg in both her hands didn’t seem like the bee’s knees.

  Closing the curtains, she turned to Alice again. “Get ready, girl, we’re going out to find Camille.” At the sound of Siri’s girlfriend’s name, the cat perked up. “Figures.” She rolled her eyes and tore off the borrowed clothing.

  Siri pulled back on her plaid mini skirt, tank top, black leather jacket, and slid on her Doc Martens boots. She didn’t care that she was in some real-life apocalypse, she was still going to look good.

  “Where’s my baby at?” Siri said, looking around the room. “No, not you, Alice.” She finally spotted the machete strewn on the carpet on the other side of the room. “There it is.”

  Siri lifted the beautiful weapon from the stained floor and took a deep breath. She was going to go search for Camille. If something happened to her girlfriend, she’d kill everyone involved, no matter the headcount.

  She still missed the firearms, but she ran out of that a long time ago. But she still had her skills in hand-to-hand-combat training that her dad taught her during childhood.

  Scooping up her backpack from the floor, she opened it on the bed beside Alice. “Get in.”

  The cat didn’t move.

  “Get in or stay here.”

  Alice glanced away from her.

  “Fucking cat.” She picked up the feline and placed her in the backpack. The cat yowled, but Siri couldn’t carry her and use the machete if she needed to. This huge sacrifice of not leaving the cat behind was all for Camille. That was true love right there.

  As quietly as she could, Siri slid open the glass door. She looked back at the room, knowing it was better to do this than become a cat lady. A life alone with Alice, if Camille never returned, wasn’t her idea of a good time.

  When she stepped out, no hungry Ravs l
ooked her way. She hunched down, so the patio walls covered her body, and took several deep breaths. “Alice, you better stay quiet.” For the first time in her feline life, the cat listened.

  With steady hands, she placed her palms on the wall and peered over. The surrounding buildings were all crumbling with broken windows. And the Ravs seemed to be all gone. But then she spotted movement just as a scream ripped through the air. Oh no, wait, there they are, in all their murderous glory.

  Thankfully, they were farther back near the garbage bin. Despite knowing she could be eaten, Siri placed her hands on top of the wall and skillfully leaped over it. The descent was a short fall, and her shins rattled with the heavy landing, but she felt good.

  A Rav with dark spiky hair lunged after her. Instead of away, she ran after him and swung her weapon—the head landed on the ground with a sickening thump-thump. Siri smirked at her win and sprinted toward the empty street.

  Two Ravs hopped out of a car and barreled toward her, saliva streaming down their chins in hunger. As film had depicted, neither the undead nor the living moved at a too slow or too quick speed—that part of life remained happily the same. However, movies had it right about the extreme hunger—minus it being dead things doing the deed.

  Using the machete again with perfect precision, Siri struck one woman with red hair through the neck, and a gurgling sound erupted from her mouth as she plummeted to the ground. Pulling the weapon out of the corpse, she drove it through the other Rav’s heart, the way Camille loved to.

  Up ahead, the roar of an engine erupted through the air. Siri held the machete higher and got ready—Alice softly moved around in the backpack. Siri looked over her shoulder, not seeing anyone else on this side of the building, but she could hear stuff going down on the other side, judging by all the screaming and groaning.

  As the car drew closer, she could see bright pink hair through the windshield and she almost dropped the weapon. Almost.

  Camille rolled the car to a stop with the window down as if it was a normal day. “Sorry I’m late, but look what I found.” She held up a sheet of wrinkled paper with a bunch of mumbo jumbo written on it.

  “I thought you were dead!” Siri raced to the car, yanked open the door, and hopped inside. She turned the backpack around and unzipped it to let the little heathen get fresh air.

  When she got a closer look at her girlfriend’s face, she noticed it was covered in bruises, and a few bite marks decorated her neck and left arm. Even her skin appeared paler than usual.

  “You’re hurt!” Siri shouted, grabbing Camille’s arm.

  “My skin’s still intact so I’m okay. Just a little setback for a couple days that slowed me down.” Camille cocked her head and shrugged. Her eyebrows furrowed and she leaned closer to the steering wheel. “Looks like we’ve got company.” She slammed on the gas pedal, throwing Siri and Alice back against the seat.

  After Siri’s eyes adjusted, she glanced out the windshield. Three Ravs ran after them, their legs pumping, arms flailing. The car picked up speed. Camille smashed into them like they were nothing. Siri felt the bump as it ran over one’s skull.

  Siri let out a sigh of relief and picked up Alice, placing her in the backseat. “We were coming after you.”

  “Ah, my hero.” Camille chuckled. “But I told you to wait for me.”

  “Don’t change the subject.” Siri narrowed her eyes. “I would’ve been left with the cat if something happened to you.”

  “Well, it didn’t.” Camille smiled broader and pointed at the sheet of paper now on the dashboard. “This here is a map to some abandoned boats.”

  “Boats?”

  “You want to go for a ride?” Camille tapped the steering wheel. “We don’t have to worry about eating, so the sea life seems like the life for me.”

  “Like, become pirates?” The idea was perfect. She should’ve come up with it herself a long time ago. “I’m in. I may even chip in and gather fish for Alice.”

  “This is why I love you, darling.” Camille quickly jerked the car to the left, striking down another undead-flesh-hungry Rav. “Sorry, had to do it, reminds me of zombie video games. I miss those days.”

  “I’ll keep a lookout for more to strike on the way.” Siri rolled her eyes and grinned. Maybe for a while, she could find some peace in the middle of the ocean with the woman she loved, her shitty cat, and not having to truly die just yet. Let the rest of the world fight, she was ready for a damned vacation.

  Dearest Clementine,

  I did it! Dear heavenly stars, I did it! The bottle of blood is in my grasp, and I’m going to unlock the door now. The mountain fiend gave me the blood without me having to demand it, but I did have to give up a piece of myself. But we are all only a pile of broken pieces, are we not? My heart is beating faster and faster because I’ll see you soon, I swear. This story is my heart to you.

  Always Yours,

  Dorin

  Wrong is Possibly Right

  1742

  In a remote land, hidden deep within snowy-white woods, lived a girl who was not really a girl at all. She was a winter creature who tore and ripped apart any human life that entered her territory. Not because she hated them, but because her home could not be found. She would protect it—always.

  In those same snowy-white woods lived a boy who was not really a boy at all. He had long horns and pointy ears and when he went out of those woods to perform his macabre duty, he became a vicious beast and searched out naughty children who deserved what they got.

  The girl hated the boy, but the boy never once hated the girl.

  Marlena dangled from a thick branch by her knees, swinging back and forth, her long white hair swaying along with her. She let the dizziness consume her and only thought of happy things.

  Until a sound came from up the icy path behind the cluster of trees. She swooped back up and rested easily on her haunches. Inhaling, she took a deep whiff of the air and stilled—human.

  Why can’t they stop being so curious? she thought, shifting forward to press her fingertips to the cold branch.

  Her duty in the woods was to end the lives of anyone who entered her territory. It was to protect not only her, but those she loved. Those that were hidden deep below the surface and those that were out in the open.

  A male human, a few years older than Marlena, entered the snow-covered clearing beneath her. As his boots plowed and crunched through the snowy ground, he didn’t once look up at her. His thick black hair was tied back, and a tawny-colored cloak made from animal fur covered him fully. His eyes filled with wonder as he gazed around her home at the curving trees, the slivers of icicles, the icy flowers.

  Nothing was supposed to grow here—her world was too cold. However, there were trees created from ice and leaves made from snow. As Marlena breathed in the crisp air and watched the human peer around her woods in fascination, she imagined him spreading word of this magical place throughout his village.

  Marlena ran her tongue across her pointy teeth. She took a measured step across the branch, a low creaking coming from it as a crack erupted beneath her bare feet. The man’s head jerked toward hers, but he didn’t reach for his blade. They never did. He was possibly too entranced by her looks—which must have been strange to him—or perhaps he was a bit curious.

  “What are you?” he asked, searching her face, the two small horns on her forehead, and the fur she wore that didn’t cover her arms or legs.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” Marlena said, her voice condescending. “I’m sorry, but humans cannot hold secrets well.” With those words, she dove from the tree, the freezing air striking her face. Her feet struck the snow with a heavy thud. Right as the man’s hand went to his hip for his weapon, his throat was slashed by her ivory blade, and his body slumped to the ground. Liquid from the man’s torn neck turned the snow crimson.

  As she lowered her head, the metallic scent hit her nostrils. She pressed two long fingers to her lips and let out a low whistle, loud enough
for the creatures of the snowy woods to hear. From behind the pearlescent trees and buried beneath the snow, little round, naked creatures with loose, clear skin rose from their homes. Bones could be seen under their translucent selves, and their teeth clicked together as they came forward for the wondrous feast bestowed on them.

  Fur cloak and clothing from the man was ripped away and his skin eaten, followed by muscle, then bones, until nothing was left of the intruder. Even the blood that had scattered across the snow had been lapped up.

  Something touched Marlena’s bare foot, and she looked down to one of the bald creatures nudging her leg. She knelt and petted the top of its head, the creature’s pointy ears wiggling. “Thank you,” she said.

  To her left, another one pulled on the edge of her shirt. She turned around to see him holding up a kidney that she’d thought had already been consumed.

  “No.” She shooed the darling away. “Go on.”

  He shook his head, clicked his tongue, and held it up again. These small creatures of her woods meant everything to her, and Marlena would sacrifice for them over and over again.

  She gripped his small hands between hers, the blood from the organ already cool between them both. “I can’t.”

  After realizing that Marlena would not be taking his food as a gift, the creature nodded and waddled away.

  Marlena’s stomach stirred with hunger, but her food of choice was the snow leaves from the trees. She plucked several and listened to them crunch in between her teeth, before sliding down her tongue.

  The taste was almost euphoric.

  As she reached for another one, the loud sound of clinking bells echoed behind her. Without turning around to the new guest, she let out an annoyed and frustrated breath. He was back sooner than she thought he would be.

  It only took seconds, but a large shadow now hovered above her. She barely glanced over her shoulder to see the snow creature behind her. His fur was whiter than falling flurries, his horns a lightly tinted blue. He looked as if he could be destined for what the humans called the heavens, but he was not—he was a murderous beast.