Dark Gardens

by Erb, Thom

  The palatial library-office of Dante’ Santiago, the New York Times Best Selling author was chock full of over-the-top vampire paraphernalia. From large posters of his previous hit novels to fan art paintings and drawings to busts made in the likeness of his forlorn protagonists: Roslyn and her unattainable brooding vampire, Sebastian. He laughed each day as he sashayed passed them and gave them a gentle pat on his way to his iMac to work on the current work-in-progress. His vampire novels, or the ‘Moneymakers’ as he so facetiously dubbed them, had kept him fat and very, very happy.

  It was at this obnoxiously immense oak writing desk he now sat- downing his second bottle of Robert Mondavi Private Select wine. Oh sure, he could afford far more expensive wines and if he were entertaining the hordes of hangers on, he would have but, in his office, when he was working, he preferred this delicious California varietal. He had threatened to kill or at the very least, fire his long-time assistant Bridget if she ever spilt the beans on his one guilty pleasure. He downed the last drop from the Waterford crystal glass and pressed a button on the desk. Soon, Bridget would come rushing in with a chilled bottle of inspiration and he’d be able to finish the last chapter of The Crimson Darkness; the last in the series of vampire- romance novels that made him so embarrassingly rich and the darling of all prepubescent girls all over the gullible globe.

  Dante’ tilted his head and smiled as Bridget whisked in and delivered the perfectly chilled bottle. He thrust is his frail arms out in his usual, over dramatic fashion. The night air found its way through the slightly open windows- causing the frilly cuffs of his white, silk shirt to sway in its cold wake.

  “Ahhhh nectar of the gods!” Dante’ cooed, reaching for the bottle.

  “How goes the writing?” Bridget knew better than to ask, but she always did love to push his hypersensitive buttons.

  “Dear heavens B. I’m about to put the icing on the cake my,” He winked his lazy eye at her took and sipped from the bottle.

  “Very nice.” She smiled and leaned against the desk. “Do you think they will like the final book?”

  “Hush your lonely lips bitch,” He hissed and shot her a teasing wink. “Final book? Oh no girlfriend. These characters are my meal ticket. And there isn’t any way that I will let them get out of my tender little grip. Oh no Bridget. I am going to milk these pathetic emo-manic depressive sods until those gullible, ‘I’m so misunderstood teens’, stop laying down their parent’s twenty-five bucks,” He let out a laugh, and his rotund belly jiggled as he leaned back in the Corinthian leather office chair.

  “Those adorable emo-brats are going to keep us in Donna Karen and Dolce’ Cabana until your ovaries have dried and collected enough spider webs to knit a sweater that could cover Kim Kardashian’s bulbous ass.” Dante’ said and flapped a wrist at his assistant, who never could get over his cold, fiscal approach to writing. However, she never said much considering he was the one signing her rather generous paychecks. She accepted her role as the obedient, yes woman a long time ago. Her brand new forty-thousand dollar Cadillac parked outside the mansion stood testament to her resolution.

  “Well, your highness, I will leave you to your masterpiece,” sarcasm dripped from her words as she closed and locked the thick maple doors, just as her prissy boss had ordered. She smiled as she stole a bottle of vino from the wine cellar and was humming along to Rob Zombie’s Dragula as she pulled out of the driveway. She never heard the glass shattering and wood splintering from the office behind her.

  The large bay window shattered into a million shards of glass and thousands of wooden splinters pierced the frail author as he screamed, flinging himself on the floor. Shock white lightening flashed, exposing six mammoth figures standing in the shattered window opening. Glass crunched under the large paw-like feet as the creatures fanned out in the circle shaped office.

  The largest creature stepped forward. Dante’ could make out few details. The lightening and moon behind them blotted out most of the light. It stood slightly hunched over, wide shoulder overshadowing its thin waist. Loose blood stained trousers covered its thick lower body. A thick coat of rain slick fur covered its barrel chest. It heaved up and down as its nose twitched in the night air.

  “We can smell you, human. There’s no use in hiding,” A guttural growl drowned out the emo tones of Coldplay. Dante’ could feel warm urine soak his trousers.

  Dante’ flailed on hands and knees behind his large wooden desk. His face, arms and chest burned with pain from several glass shards. Blood ran from the multiple wounds and he saw the creatures turned their elongated nose in unison into the cold air- sniffing.

  My blood! Dante’s frantic mind raced. He looked for a way out. The creatures tossed his six thousand dollar leather sofa in front the door. He had nowhere to go.

  The harsh fall wind and rain filled the office. Growls of anger filled the office. It drowned out Dante’s pathetic whimper as he scrambled toward the huge desk.

  “Ohh, nooo...do—don’t h—urt.” Dante’ cried out, on all fours looking for an escape.

  The large creature peered down over the opulent desk, its drool splattered on the keyboard. “We won’t hurt you, meat,” Its deep voice sounded as if its throat were filled with gravel and mud. It squatted down and smiled wide- lightening flashed, exposing its face.

  Dante’ squirmed against the wall. The creatures face was something out of a horror movie. He could see human features, but something made it different, bestial. Its nose jutted out like a German Sheppard or even a wolf. Its large fang-like teeth, stained with blood glinted in the moonlight. Its eyes were deep set under a wide forehead. The eye were red pinholes that peered deep into Dante’ as he screamed and threw pens, paper, and empty wine bottles at the slowly encroaching creature.

  “For centuries we have endured. Let you live, while you spread your lies. We have had enough,” Dante’s eyes flashed wide and the creature lunged at him. Its jaws hyper-extending, exposing a wide maw and the serrated teeth burrowed deep and harsh into his face. Hot white pain exploded and all went black. He could feel rows of razor-sharp teeth tear into his skull, as blood gushed as if a water balloon filled beyond its limit.

  An artillery burst of thunderclaps drowned out Dante’s feeble cries for help. He could barely form a thought, much less discernable words. He collapsed under the weight of his attacker and felt something in his neck snap. He heard the sickly wet crack and now, the only sense left was that of sound. All he could hear was the sound of crunching, slurping, and chewing. He was grateful he could feel an

  His last cries for mercy were lost amongst the raging fall storm and soul wrenching growls and howls from the blood soaked hairy monsters standing in the bloody remnants of the bestselling author.

  Perfect Purgatory Bar

  Carrigan Springs, NY

  The walk from the college to the small bar took longer than Melissa wanted. She made it there on autopilot. For a split second, she thought she was being followed and then just let the silly thought go and focused on more important things: Shots, shots and more shots and the image of hottie from class. Where did he come from? She could feel her face flush and squirmed from her damp panties.

  The old neon sign swung in the fall breeze. It read- “Perfect Purgatory Bar & Grille” and it was a sight for dry throat as she tried to shake the quivers the strange guy gave her back in class. It didn’t work. He moved something. She liked it and hated it all at the same time. She opened the heavy doors of the bar and smiled at her friend Paulie, waving her in.

  “’bout time bitch,” hissed a short, pudgy well-dressed young man purred from a stool near the door. “I was getting lonely.” His pursed lips, turned to a smile as she approached and slapped his soft shoulder. He faked a wince and handed her a shot glass.

  “Oh bite me homo,” Melissa slapped him again, downing the shot. He laughed and flipped a wrist at the woman bartender down the way.

  “Took you long enough,” He slid more money on the bar as the woman poured vodk
a into the shot glasses and went to make more Svedka Cherry Poppers.

  “That old man is gonna be the death of me I swear Paulie,” Melissa wiped her mouth and gave her friend a kiss on his pale cheek. He blushed and shooed her away.

  “Oh heavens, you poor thing. Another poor victim of statistics has been claimed. I bet if I asked you do add up all the guys you’ve banged and then divide them by how many made less than $20,000 a year you wouldn’t have a problem, whatsoever,” Paulie teased and downed his shot and blew her a kiss.

  She spit her shot out onto the bar laughing, nodding her head in agreement, yet still smacking her effeminate friend.

  Melissa thought the whole bar smelled of stale beer, cheap Wal-Mart cologne and desperation. It was filled with college frat boys, frat boy wannabes, and desperate guys looking to get laid. She prodded Paulie for another round, excused herself to the ladies’ room, and made her way through the swaying crowd.

  Paulie had an hour’s head start with drinks and she needed to catch up. She tried to push that hottie out of her mind. Somehow, she knew she wouldn’t be able too, as she rubbed her damp crotch. She slammed the ladies’ room door open, found and open stall and finished her business quickly. She washed up, checked, and rechecked herself in the fingerprint smudged mirror. She never used make up so she wasn’t sure what the hell she was checking but she felt the need to make sure she look good. Just in case, that hottie from class came in tonight.

  “Wow, how can you see yourself in the mirror Hellbitch?” A gaggle of blondes barged into the small bathroom room and filled it with high-pitched giggles and the smell of Paris Hilton perfume. They were all pointing at her with their highly manicured fake nails and gave her death stares as their mocking laughter filled the small bathroom.

  Outside The Perfect Purgatory Bar

  Carrigan Springs, NY

  11:45pm

  The crowded bar makes my skin tingle. The flashing lights and pounding music act as an annoying doorman as I enter the college meat market. Inside, the beautiful young men and women laugh, dance and drink, all the while acting out their primitive mating rituals. I used to find it amusing and at one point even partook in the frivolity. However, I have since grown tired of the ages old ritual and just eek out my dark and solitary existence, such as it is. Over and over again, pretending to be a troubled teenager has become droll. It is a self-imposed fate, truth be told. To seek to do no harm, my father always told me. That was before the Holy Church back in England discovered who, or what he truly was. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t comprehend the harsh reality that not all vampires feed on human blood.

  I never know how to talk to them. I try and it always comes out stiff and cold. Just like everything else in this blasted world- cold, unfeeling and detached. Still, I must try. I cannot be like the others. No. I must keep trying, despite the searing pain. I must stave off the hunger.

  She has been imprinted on my mind. I’ve been watching her for weeks now. Ever since the semester started, I have resisted approaching her, knowing that nothing good could come of it. My will was once strong, but now it fails me.

  I head to the bar. Maybe a drink will help me forget the yearning I just experienced back at the college. It had been a long while since I felt that strong of a pull, the urge that makes my thin veins pulsate. A young man offers me a drink and I accept it with a slight nod. He seems harmless and I don’t understand why he is so affectionate toward me.

  I tolerate his conversation.

  Deep in the Northern Catskill Mountains,

  Somewhere in New York

  Rain and coagulated blood and other bodily fluids covered the six large humanoid creatures’ thick fur. It had been a long run from the pig-authors house to the deep wood, and they had many more miles to go before reaching their next target. The next kill on The Cleansing List: Kieran McClellan. Carrigan Springs, New York.

  They started out forty in number and through each incident; their ranks had been reduced slightly. Who would have imagined the soft, pampered vampires would put up such a fight? Despite futile attempts to retaliate, the remaining Six ran headstrong on their blood cleansing crusade. The Blood Crescent Council had appointed them their charge and they would die, if need be to fulfill such an honorable and righteous duty.

  “Keep moving. There are miles to go before we feed,” Daxion barked as he tore a large maple limbs out of his way. He was their leader and his fate hung on their success or failure. The world’s perception of the vampire had been distorted and destroyed for decades. The Council unwavering goal was to put the fear back into the Vampire mythos and the privilege for fulfilling this honor fell on Daxion and his cohort were assigned to cleanse the world of such insidious thinking. The oneness of mind and bloodlust drove them northward.

  Perfect Purgatory Bar

  Carrigan Springs, NY

  “Clever. Glad you read The Complete Idiots Guide to humor for bitches?” was all Melissa could muster and felt her pale face blush as she shoved her way through the brainless blondes. Melissa was ready for another shot and then a smoke. Her half-buzzed mind was twisting with creative ways to dissect the Paris Clones back in the ladies’ room. She made her way through the drunken dance crowd as they did their best zombie impersonations.

  Paulie was waving her over with a drink in his hand. He was leaning against a tall, slender guy with a black leather jacket. He looked slightly familiar but too many shots made remembering difficult. She giggled as she wormed her way through the throbbing crowd. She laughed aloud at Paulie’s flamboyant wave over, that was when she felt the firm grip on her ass.

  Paulie ran his thick finger around the rim of his glass, gave the tall, dark and brooding hottie in front of him a wide smile, and pushed the other drink toward him. The Tall figure in the leather trench coat curtly nodded, accepted. “Thank you. It’s very kind,” The hottie offered, sipping the drink, but his attention seemed to be focused toward the dance floor.

  “Oh, ‘tis my pleasure. Trust me handsome, there is plenty more where that came from,” Paulie winked and patted the hottie on the hand. It felt cold and clammy, it is cold outside you daft bitch, he mentally chastised himself.

  “So, I haven’t seen yo---,” Paulie’s words hung in the air, as the hottie turned and rushed toward the thrashing dance floor. Paulie blushed and felt his face grow red and his head shake with indignation, it changed to concern as he saw the commotion that caused his hottie to depart so quickly. A bunch of drunken college “woodchucks” were grabbing Melissa as the more literate members of the college so lovingly dubbed them.

  Paulie felt his groin ache and rise as he watched the testosterone-filled scene play out in front of him. The hottie rushed through the throng of onlookers like a torpedo through water. He sipped his drink and licked his lips as the Hottie tossed the first drunk across the dance floor with the ease of tossing a piece of paper into the garbage. Paulie’s eyes grew wide. The other drunks charged the Hottie and the lithe figure dispatched them as if he were swatting flies away from his food, Paulie needed to know more about this fine specimen.

  The fight only lasted of few seconds and the cries of pain drowned out the music blasting from the speakers. The Hottie moved with the elegance and speed of a cheetah and the fighting efficiency of a lightweight prizefighter. He made short work of the woodchucks and they ran from the dancefloor with their bloodied tails between their legs.

  Only two figures remained standing; Melissa and the Hottie. Paulie found it hard to hid his burgeoning lust for the Hottie as he ran through the stunned crowd toward the dance floor

  The music stopped as the Hottie helped Melissa off the dance floor.

  “You okay?” Kieran asked softly as he held Melissa in his arms. She gazed up at the same angelic face that had captivated her since she left class.

  “I…I’m okay, “Melissa caught herself as her eyes found themselves on the Hottie from class. She blushed and smiled up at the runway model in front of her. He just smiled down at her.
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  The bar seemed to darken and the light piano strains of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep pumped through the DJ’s speakers. It was there, in the flashing of the dance floor lights that the tall stranger and Melissa’s gaze locked. The intense muted guitar strums, mixed with the tortured lyrics cemented their stares and for one second, the universe stood frozen. As if the moment was so powerful it drained all of the energy and focused on this one monumental moment.

  They felt it too.

  “Hi. I...I’m Melissa,” The words flew out before she knew it.

  After a long moment, the tall stranger’s cold face broke into a small smile.

  “Kieran,” He cautiously offered her his thin, pale hand.

  Somewhere the god’s wept.

  “Take the love connection shit outside, now” A burly monster of a bouncer, pointed his thick arm towards the door.

  They nodded and hurried out of the loud bar.

  Seeing his friend was safe, Paulie tossed his stir stick on the floor and quickly turned his attention to a shock-white blonde with spiky hair wearing a long, black leather trench coat and doing shots at the bar. Next, he murmured and smiled.

  DeRuyter’s Farm

  Arcadia Falls, NY

  Her name was Dianne, she had no idea what names where or what they meant. All her small nugget of a brain could comprehend was that she was hungry and the paper tag pinned through her right ear meant something to the two-leggers who fed her, but she could care less. Darkness surrounded her and the others and the field was full of tasty grass, and she needed to eat.