November 2008
Something to Do With Sebastian by Douglas Lind
A Rainy Night of Density with a Reckless Neurotic by Richey Piiparinen
Comet Press open for submissions
Our print division, Comet Press, is currently accepting submissions for horror, suspense, and dark crime novels and novellas. Visit www.cometpress.us for details.
Available for order from Comet Press
DEADLINES: AN ANTHOLOGY OF HORROR AND DARK FICTION, will be released in November of 2008! Visit www.cometpress.us
Jagged Star
by Sarah Ann Watts
Sarah Ann Watts lives in Hull, England. Her work has appeared in Bewildering Stories, Apollo's Lyre, Flashshots, the Hiss Quarterly, MYTHOLOG and the University of Hull short story anthology, Liquorice Ice Cream and Other Just Desserts.
Further information at www.writewords.org.uk/sarah_ann_watts/
There was something moving in the shadows, something small, something furry. The wall was lined with skulls, packed densely, floor to ceiling. So many, there were hundreds, maybe a thousand. Plague victims? No one knew for sure.
The boy slid his fingers through eye sockets, reaching for the mouse, flinching at the touch of bone. Sharp teeth fastened on his fingertips. Needle points like pain. He jerked his hand away, feeling skin tear as the rodent clung on, and sucked at the blood. He was starving. The dislodged skull fell on the flagstones and cracked open. An inverted grin, broken teeth and then a scurrying in the dark.
The figure lying on the tomb opened his eyes, stretched like a cat and yawned. "Now you've gone and done it." Without appearing to move he slashed his hand across the boy's face. Claw marks opened and bled. The boy shrank away from him. Beyond the wall there was a slow rustling. Something that had lost the habit of breathing was waking up.
Felix smiled, "I told you to keep quiet and still, Mouse boy. Not to touch anything." Then as the boy blinked in the flickering candlelight, Felix was standing at the other side of the crypt, one foot on the rung of the ladder that led to the world above. "I'm out of here."
The rustlings grew louder.
The boy was shivering. It's only the mice. What do they feed on? What do you think? His voice came out as a muted squeak. "You can't leave me!"
Felix purred, "I can do anything I like." His eyes glowed green. "You were born under the wrong star. I should never have taken you. I would have given you everything."
Sunlight shafted into the gloom. The boy covered his face and heard the stone fall back into place. The draft caught the candle flame and it went out.
The boy lay in the dark curling his arms around his head. A curious rat crawled over his leg. He reached for it, bit the head off and let the blood run back over his tongue and slide down his throat. That felt good. Fragile bones crunched and he threw the corpse at the shattered skull. The rustlings subsided petulantly.
Time passed. It felt like a hundred years. He had no way of telling, waiting for the crypt to open in darkness again. The rats grew wary of him, learned to keep their distance. He heard them skittering in the shadows, mocking him, forever beyond his reach. Soon he knew, as his strength faded, they would feed. His thirst was a torment. It didn't take long before he knew he would agree to anything, give Felix what he wanted. He prayed he would come back. Mostly he slept. Once daylight shone in on his skeletal form but he did not stir. He was too weak and the chains held him. Dust gathered and spiders spun their webs over empty eye sockets. Lost in his sleep the boy dreamed to wake again, to be alive, clothed in flesh, feel the blood pulsing through his veins.
Time passed until the night he opened his eyes to be blinded by the flare of a match in the dark. As he curled in his foetal burial position rough hands took him and a flask was forced between his lips,
"Drink." The liquid ran down his parched throat leaving his mouth stained crimson as he drank. Felix pulled the flask away and lit the candles, forcing back the shadows. He smiled at the wraithlike figure before him. "You're not looking too good."
The boy would have cursed him but he had no voice. He tried to shape words but nothing came. "More?" The boy was still too weak to hold the flask and he choked as he tried to swallow. Again, Felix took it from him. "Are you going to be reasonable now or should I come back later?"
"How long-"
"Has it been? Time has no meaning in the crypt. I need your answer now or I leave you to starve again. Next time I may not be so kind. I'll let the rats gnaw your bones!"
"Let me out."
"If you give me what I want."
The boy looked round listlessly through sunken eyes. "You can take that as given. You know I'll do anything now. I'm not strong enough to hunt."
Felix lifted him like a child. "You will be. You're young. You'll get over it." He sighed in irritation. "There was no need for any of this. You brought it on yourself. Why do you always have to be so stubborn?"
Moving quicker than the eye could follow; he rose out of the crypt, crossed the chancel and slid through the side door on the far side of the chapel. He deposited his frail burden among the graves and, taking a knife from his belt, slit the vein in his wrist and let the blood drip into the boy's mouth. He fed avidly until Felix wrenched his wrist away.
"Enough!" He tied a silk cloth to staunch the blood. "Better now?"
The boy looked up at him; there was hectic colour in his cheeks. "Why did you bring me back? You said no one ever gets a second chance."
"Except you, Mouse Boy. You were born lucky. Someone up there must really like you."
The boy spat scarlet froth from his lungs. "Are you trying to be funny? And my name is Leo."
"Once upon a time. So, Mouse Boy, can you fly?"
The boy who called himself Leo pulled himself to his knees. "You have got to be joking."
"Then you're in my hands. Better be polite. It's a long way to fall." He spread his wings and soared out over the valley, Leo clinging round his neck, senses reeling at the speed of their passage through the air.
Leo waited under phantom banners in the ruins of the keep. Felix had left him alone; the silver chain trailing from his wrist meant he wasn't going anywhere. The sun was rising; he could feel it and knew if he left the shadows, he would burn. He considered it, testing the length of the chain. They had left him that option, knowing they were safe.
Feeling the dawn breeze stir against his cheek, watching the stars fade, he was too newly revived to seek that way out. He guessed this was part of the ritual - he must choose the life they'd given him and live by their laws. As the sun hung low over the horizon he slipped into a dreamless sleep and knew nothing until darkness fell.
As he woke he heard a tumult of many voices and opened his eyes on a scene of splendour. By night the castle lived again, restored beyond its former glory and the court was waiting for him. Wraiths clothed in silks and rich brocades, jewels set in circlets in their silvered hair, their shadowed eyes enormous in their pale faces, all looking at him with an intensity that screamed, hunger.
He blinked in the candlelight, conscious of his stained rags as they surrounded him, their voices a rising susurration. Cold hands helped him rise, pushed him forwards as they stood back to leave his path clear. He walked unsteadily between them as they closed in behind them until finally there was nowhere left to go.
He climbed the steps to the dais, stumbling over his feet and collapsed into the velvet cushion of the throne. Felix materialised at his side and raised his voice in triumph.
"Gentlefolk, I greet you on this hallowed eve. The prodigal returns. The one I chose to be our king. He fled from us but I brought him back to greet his destiny. As I promised you, after time for reflection, his change of heart has surpassed my expectation!"
Leo shrank back as their cries assaulted him. He glanced down at the spreading purple blotches on his hand. Plague marks, the rats had taken their revenge. Yellow pus oozed from a festering sore where the silver chafed his wrist. Felix brought his lips close to his ear. "You know, there's only one certain cure. Virgin blood."
Leo cast his eyes over the shimmering court, stared into the beautiful tainted faces. He shrugged. "Then I'm dead."
Felix laughed softly. "You won't escape so easily. Aren't you forgetting something? I made you immortal. You can't die of a disease. You'll become a lost voice crying for its soul." He handed a silver chalice. The boy seized it, flinching, drained the fluid it contained, threw it to the floor like it burned. His lips bled and he tasted salt on his tongue.
"What is that poison you gave me?"
"Stale blood, a vagrant's corpse. I slit her throat for you; let it cool over several days. You deserve no better. The wraiths won't follow a king who's afraid to kill."
"I'm not afraid. I'd kill you cheerfully, Felix. I won't feed on innocent blood to stay alive."
"Then you are doomed. You will be cast out. None of us will lift a hand to save you. You'll go your own way. You'll be alone forever. Is that truly what you want?"
The boy looked round at the corruption surrounding him. "It has to be better than this!"
Felix laid a hand on his shoulder as the voices faltered and died into silence. He was alone in the ruins and the moon shone cold on the grass beneath his bare feet.
Felix sighed and his voice was a fading echo drifting away on the night breeze. "You will remember us one day."
Leo waited in the alley. The first kill had been the hardest. Now it was almost routine. He liked to think he could choose only the broken lives, those who should be grateful to be released from the squalid prisons they inhabited.
He soon learned his mistake. He hadn't counted on their dreams, on the secret beauty that lurked in the most unpromising minds. Evil hurt him like a physical blow to the soul but love was worse and the memories made him weep for everything he'd never had.
In time he grew cruel in self-defence. He learned to discriminate, to select his victims, became an indifferent predator, spitting out anything that tasted of redemption and feeding only on guilt. Then as he matured he enjoyed the pleasures of the hunt and sated himself on innocence, taking revenge on the world for his pain.
Tonight he was looking forward to a rare prize, a young girl fleeing to her lover's arms, Romeo and Juliet. Leo had scaled the balcony already. The fair-haired boy lay bleeding in his bed, beautiful and pale. Leo would finish him later; savour his death like an urchin at a feast. He smiled at the picture in his thoughts. Now he was waiting for her to come and find him, listening to her light footsteps, several streets away yet, coming closer.
A black cat emerged from the shelter of the house and ran across his path, flicking its tail. It halted under the gas lamp and began to wash itself, cleaning its claws. Then its form flowed as it began to change, elongate, and its shadow darkened. Leo stood frozen, his image reflected back at him through the blank mirror of cats' eyes. He stared, hating what he saw, gave a muffled cry and fled.
Felix caught up with him by the bridge. Leo leaned over the delicate tracery of iron railing, retching into the river below.
"I see you learned to play with your food. That was some feast you prepared. I didn't expect you to go to so much trouble."
Leo was shivering. "I didn't expect you at all."
Felix laughed. "Your manners are execrable as ever. I cleaned up for you, kissed the boy goodnight. No need to thank me. It was a pleasure."
"And the girl?" Leo wouldn't look at him.
"I left her for you." Felix inspected his nails. "She saw what I did. She knows she's lucky to be alive. I read her soul. She's not like you. She would kill to be immortal. If you save her from death she will love you forever. You can make all her dreams come true."
Leo stood staring into the water. Felix spoke softly, "Listen to me, I lied. You don't have to be alone. I know you never wanted what I gave you. I don't always play fair, it's in my nature to win, but I learn from my mistakes. Call it a gift, an apology, what you will. Take this in return and we call it quits? From now on I'll let you go. Something to remember me by?"
Leo raised his head and Felix flinched away from him. "I'll never forget you," he whispered.
"I wouldn't take it as a gift."
Leo looked at the girl, waiting for the flicker of doubt in her eyes. It never came.
They were standing together in the night beside a window looking in. Candles shed light over scented flesh and dark red wines, reflected the secret glow of jewels against clear skin, velvets and silk, smooth like a caress.
"Life," she said softly through crimsoned lips, "They can keep it." The snow fell like kisses on her skin. She didn't feel it, fuelled by the warmth within.
"Are you sure?"
"Sure as I'll ever be." She glanced up at him and smiled. "Will you show me how to fly?"
In the shadows a fair-haired youth watched and waited. His pale eyes lingered on the girl. He was shaking. He drew up the collar of his coat, hiding the mark on his neck. He was weak, newborn. Soon he would need to feed again.
Later Leo told her he had to go away, that he had an old score to settle. He said that he might be some time, that he loved her, didn't want to leave her but if they were going to be safe, to be together, there was something he had to do. He said that he would come back and asked her to wait for him. She gave him her promise. By then he would believe anything she told him, anything at all.
He didn't understand that she might see things differently - that for her, with only a brief life behind her, the concept of time might be difficult and strange. She was still afraid to grow old.
He couldn't know that in the century he spent away from her, when he challenged and destroyed the power of the wraiths and sent their last king into exile, that she would forget. He was unaware as the years passed like days how the world changed and moved on. Time left their love behind, dried out like a ripple on the shore. He staked everything on the memory of her smile and survived, waiting on the promise of a lie.
"So you'll wait for me?"
"Always."
When he found her she was terrified. "I thought you were never coming back. They told me you were dead."
"And you hoped that I was?" he said.
She didn't meet his eyes and a slow tear curved over her cheek to fall on the face of the sleeping child. "I'm sorry," she said. "You stayed away too long."
He saw how she held the child close, cradling it against her breasts. Once he might have killed her, killed them both, but taking revenge had altered him too. He could still hear the screams of the young wraiths as they perished in the flames.
"Madonna and child," he said.
She flushed red and he could see the veins beneath her skin, taunting him with what he knew he couldn't do. "The mother died."
"But you kept the father?"
She shook her head. Her fingers brushed against the silver crucifix she'd placed around the child's neck and he saw the pain in her face. "Were you always unkind?"
"I was always a fool."
She smiled but said nothing.
"You're like a child, playing at happy families in the dark. You said you wouldn't take life as a gift!"
"That was before--" she stopped suddenly as if she was afraid.
"Before what? You might as well tell me. We both know I can't hurt you. You owe me something, that at least."
"Before I saw him again. He reminded me of someone I knew once, long ago. He died the night I met you."
Leo remembered. Blood on the sheets. The corpse no longer there and the girl crying for her dead lover. He should have guessed then.
"You left me and then it was like he came back to me. I saw you taking life every night, not as a gift but as your right. I knew there had to be something else; something more and I found it."
"I could have given you anything you ever wanted."
In that moment the last piece of the pattern fell into place and he saw how completely Felix was avenged, that he had won the game. He looked at her for the last time and saw the fear seeping like blood into her eyes before he turned away and went back into the night.
Felix closed the door and walked out into the snow. He turned away from the lights and followed the well-worn path down to the river. He was treading in his own footsteps, going over old ground. He knew he wasn't going anywhere, this road led only to the river. The bridge arched a delicate tracery in the night, leading nowhere.
Leo was waiting for him. He came to a halt on the frozen bank waiting, afraid to go on. Too many had tried to go that way, shed their souls in the water. Now no one could cross the wire, get to the other side. Leo took out the heavy coins he'd brought with him and threw one into the depths. It skittered on the surface, a small reflection of the moon, resting on thin ice. One of the rat-like wraiths following him had seen the glint of gold in his hand and breaking free, plunged after it with a triumphant cry, crashing through the fragile barrier and dropping like an anchor to the depths.
A crowd of them surrounded Leo now, muttering, fingering the silver fur on his coat. He held out his coin like an offering, looking up to catch a shadow of the stars, waiting to see what Felix might say.
"I'm sorry about the girl and the child."
Leo remembered the flames. "I'm sorry too. I was stupid, I know. Did you ever love someone, Felix? Love them so much you'd give them anything they ever wanted, anything at all?"
A flicker of emotion crossed his face. Felix was old and grey now. He sighed, "No, I never loved anyone like that or if I did, I don't remember."
Leo laid his hand on his sleeve and they waited together, shivering a little in the chill.
Tonight would make no difference. After a while, when he could no longer pretend that anything was going to happen, Leo gave up hoping and turned his gaze on the still waters. All that was left was the fracture in the ice; a jagged star scrawled by a child's crayon and in the centre a dark reflection like an eye.
Felix blinked and turned away; weary now and empty, tasting death on his tongue. Soft flakes fell on his eyelids, melting like tears as slowly he retraced his steps.
He knew that one day the boat would come with the ferryman, come for them both, but he had lost count of the nights, waiting, long ago.
Jagged Star is copyrighted 2007 by Sarah Ann Watts and may not be reproduced under any circumstances without her permission.